#i kept her hearing aide that she aged up with

[nihilismtrcit]

she’s on the move

happy birthday marnie🎉

[adragonprinceswhore]

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)wife

Chapter I: The Chain 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Three months after leaving him, your inevitable reunion with your soon-to-be ex-husband Aemond isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, toxic relationship dynamic, possessive Aemond, depictions of anxiety, allusions to smut

Word count: 3000

A/N: Edited and done, please enjoy 🩵 Thank you my love @theoneeyedprince for giving this a look-through for me 🫶

Breathe.

In. Hold three seconds. Out. Hold three seconds. In. Hold three seconds. Out.

You haven’t been able to eat anything all morning, far too nauseous to keep even a piece of toast down.

The breathing exercise your therapist had taught you does little to help you calm down.

You’ve felt anxious before, but rarely this intense.

It’s so physical.

You feel it in your stomach turning, chest contracting, hands tingling, head spinning.

You knew you’d have to meet him sooner or later.

Afterall, you’d both decided to stay in the band. You’d just started to gain traction, embarking on your first ever tour across the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.

A once in a lifetime opportunity for an up-and-coming band.

Still, knowing that didn’t make it easier to turn the handle of the door and walk into the studio.

Knowing he’ll be there.

You hadn’t seen your husband, Aemond, in over three months now.

Soon to be ex-husband.

You’d honestly expected the process to be speedier; you hadn’t demanded anything from him, the only thing important to you was that you kept all legal rights you had in relation to the band; the rights to your songs. And he hadn’t really given any conditions himself, yet his solicitors took ages contacting yours.

That’s all you’d heard from him over the summer. Updates from your legal advisers about his.

You’d blocked his number after leaving the divorce papers at your shared flat and moved out, tired of your phone overheating from the amount of times he’d tried calling you.

In the end, Alicent, your mother-in-law, had phoned you, begging you to please meet with her son and talk it out. You told her that you’d already talked plenty and there was no point in continuing indulging in pointless discussion. You’d always gotten along well with Alicent, so having her call you to do her son’s bidding felt so unbelievably awkward. He’d always been such a mama’s boy.

With one final, shaky exhale, you turn the handle of the door and push it open, stepping into the hallway.

With the door ajar, you can hear chatter from the studio.

Everyone’s already here.

Good, then you’d just have to suck it up and face them. Like ripping off a band-aid; only painful for a second.

You spot Helaena first. She gives you a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and straightens up slightly.

You’d met her a few times in the last months; brainstorming song ideas and recording vocals together in the studio.

Besides playing the piano, she wrote songs and sang for the band, just like you and Aemond. She hadn’t asked you anything about him, which you were thankful for. You know she’s anxious about how the dynamic in the band will shift now that the two of you have separated. And her anxiety materialises in the way she starts picking at her nail beds as soon as she sees you emerge through the door.

Next to Helaena sits Jace, who plays bass for the band. He gives you a half-hearted smile, accompanied by tense shoulders and a murmured greeting.

Across the table from him is Erryk, drummer and the newest addition to the band. He seems to not sense the tension that hangs heavy in the room and smiles at you until his eyes crinkle.

His obliviousness almost makes you laugh. It nearly manages to cut through the uncomfortable tension, until your eyes travel to lock with the last person in the room.

You knew that Aemond wouldn’t cause a scene and act infuriatingly indifferent towards you.

You knew that he’d give you a nod and get straight down to business.

Still, you feel a sliver of satisfaction when your predictions turn out to be true.

“So, everyone’s done with recording their parts?”, he asks the room.

He’s already pulled out his laptop, quick fingers typing as he waits for confirmation.

Though the tense atmosphere never really leaves the room, you all collectively try to power through as you discuss how recording went and what else needs to be fixed before the album is ready.

Due to your and Aemond’s separation, and the tumultuous events leading up to it, the band had agreed that everyone would record their vocals and instruments separately; putting everything together in production later. This had slowed down the process significantly, resulting in you being far from done with the album your label wanted you to release at the end of the month.

“As you know, the label isn’t too pleased with the fact that we haven’t finished the album yet-”, Aemond says, eyes still on the screen of his laptop; both his seeing eye and the unmoving one covered by a layer of white mist,

“-But they’ve asked us if we’d be willing to perform some new songs during the tour, to boost sales and get the hype up”

His voice is stoic, every utterance straight to the point. You sit on his blind side, with Helaena between your chair and his, and you take the opportunity of knowing he can’t clearly see you to examine him, searching for any changes since you last laid eyes on him, when his knuckles were bloody and panic reflected in his lilac eye.

He looks exactly like he always does; infuriatingly handsome.

His long, silvery hair hangs loose over his shoulders. His long eyelashes cast down as he inspects the screen of his laptop. His aquiline nose slopes beautifully to meet his perfectly pouty lips, begging to be kissed-

Fuck, stop!

Truth be told, you’d put extra effort into looking your best today, spending an hour on doing your makeup and picking out the perfect outfit. Hopefully you’d succeeded in making it appear much less intentional than it was, suddenly feeling a flash of embarrassment wash over you.

Why do you care what he thinks anymore?

The meeting goes on for another hour. The band’s manager, Tyland Lannister, joins in after 20 minutes, briefing the band members on the upcoming tour. Opening night’s in one week, on Dragonstone, and you’ll all fly out the morning of the show.

As the members of the band prepare to leave the studio, the tension that had previously felt so crushing is now only lingering in the periphery.

Jace and Erryk talk excitedly about all the places they’ll visit during the tour; what they wanted to eat and what they wanted to see. For a second it almost feels like things are back to normal, like the last three months never happened.

As everyone makes their separate ways home, you spot Aemond walk up to a black car and quickly jump in the passenger seat.

Your stomach turns.

You only see a flash of her black hair before the car drives away. The mask of indifference you’d put on cracks slightly at the sight of them together.

You wanted the divorce, idiot.

It still hurts seeing him move on though. He’d done it so quickly; uncharacteristically so.

The first week after you’d left, he blew up your phone trying to get a hold of you.

Despite his inexcusable behaviour, there had been times when you felt guilty for leaving him so abruptly. Even though you knew he deserved it, you also knew that leaving him and refusing to talk to him would drive him insane. What you hadn’t expected was that he’d go and get a new girl a mere week after Alicent had called you.

Seeing them together in real life made you feel exactly as you did when your friend Alysanne had sent you the link to the 30 second video two and a half months ago.

Nauseous.

The video showed Aemond getting out of a taxi in front of a new and chic Braavosi bistro downtown. It was opening night and a few local news sources were there to report. One of the journalists had recognised Aemond, clearly intrigued by the fact that the still-married bandman rounded the taxi and offered his hand to a beautiful dark-haired woman stepping out. As they walked towards the entrance, the reporter chased them down, microphone in hand and cameraman in tow.

“Aemond Targaryen? Already moving on after the separation I see?”, the reporter half-shouts behind Aemond to get his attention.

His date turns around in response to the comment, smiling as her emerald gaze observes the reporter. The news of your separation had been speculated on a few minor fansites after someone leaked an email from your solicitor's office, but neither you nor Aemond had made any statement about it.

He wasn’t planning on giving one now either, unimpressed eye giving the reporter a once-over before huffing in amusement and gesturing for his date to follow him inside.

The reporter, set on getting an answer from the rising star, chuckles before forcefully shoving the microphone in Aemond’s face,

“Women come and go, is that the case?”, he presses with a cheeky wink.

Aemond huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, something like that”, he says, wrapping his arm around his date’s shoulders as he leads her into the restaurant.

You’d later learn that the date from that night was his new manager, Alys Rivers.

Funny how he’d gotten a manager to handle his possible solo work.

Six months prior, when you’d been approached by a talent scout asking if you’d ever thought of doing solo stuff on the side, Aemond had been absolutely livid. After giving the agent a few well-chosen words, he had stormed off, leaving you upset and confused.

It was ultimately his jealousy and possessiveness that broke your marriage, getting to a point where you felt like you couldn’t be with him any longer. Neither as a lover nor a friend.

Now, the only place he can take in your life is as your bandmate; business partner, and nothing more.

You’d seriously considered leaving the band when you decided on leaving him. Still, somewhere deep inside you can’t shake this feeling that what your band has is something unique; something you won’t find anywhere else.

You and Aemond had started the band with Helaena right around the time you’d first met.

The three of you quickly bonded over your shared vision of what kind of music you’d like to make. On top of that, your voices sounded so good together, Aemond providing structure with his precision while you focused on conveying raw emotions.

So you decided to stick it out, work with your ex-husband in order to make the music that you wanted.

You’re an artist. All artists suffered for their art, right? You’d just have to suck this up and get on with it; continue to create art. And the pain would be worth it.

Besides, truth be told, you’d never met anyone quite as talented as Aemond. You’d never met anyone else who understood the music you wanted to create quite like he did.

When it came to music, you two almost had a telepathic connection. As someone who relies a lot on intuition and ‘that feeling in your gut’, you found it hard to describe music and your visions for it in general. But with Aemond you never needed to; he understood. Two minds wired the same.

Unfortunately, that wordless communication only stretched as far as music.

You think back to one of the last conversations you had before you left him.

You’d tried to confront him about his temper and inability to keep his jealousy in check, and he’d promptly ignored you; defaulting into shutting you out.

Exhausted, you resorted to the only solution you could come up with.

“Maybe we should spend some time apart, let things cool down a bit”, you try, purposefully making your voice as gentle as possible.

Aemond, who’d been staring out the window of your apartment in contemplative rage, quickly turns to face you, expression impassive but one eye furious.

“If you want some ‘time apart’ you might as well get on with it and leave”, he says, voice chilly. Sometimes when he’s angry, he sounds so hateful it hurts your heart.

“What do you want me to do Aemond?”, you reply, patience running thin as anger overcomes you, “You don’t allow me to live my life, you hinder any chance of growth I have-”,

“Growth!? What else do you need?”, he spits back. “Do you understand what it means to be married to someone? I do fucking everything for you, you’re my wife!”

“Sure, chain me to our marriage. Keep me shackled to you forever, that’s what you want, isn’t it? While you fuck around town, relishing in the freedom you never allow me”

Your agitated voice matches his. You know your words will hurt him.

Aemond exhales loudly. His jaw’s shut tight and misty gaze piercing. He has a tendency to shut down during fights, especially when he doesn't have a snide remark waiting at the back of his mind.

Aemond’s eyes, locking yours in a death stare, narrow,

“So you want out?”

The flight to Dragonstone goes by in a flash, and after a quick soundcheck at the venue, the five members of Dragon Dreamers start getting ready for the show. 

You and Helaena do your usual routine of getting ready together, checking each other’s makeup and hair.

As the venue starts to fill up, the band gathers backstage, quickly running through your set one last time. You try to shoot a covert glance at Aemond, but he immediately finds your eyes. As always, he looks impeccable.

“Since we’ve finished ‘The Chain’ in production, I suggest we play that as our opening number tonight. It’s fast-paced and will get the crowd moving”, Aemond states, looking at his bandmates for approval.

They all nod knowingly, catching you by surprise.

“I’m not sure I’m familiar with ‘The Chain’”, you say, trying to sound neutral though you suspect he chose a song you don’t know on purpose.

“It’s the one you did some backup vocals on in the studio”, Aemond replies, throwing you a quick look, “Me and Helaena can sing the verses and you can join in during the chorus”, he offers, moving to pick up his guitar, signalling that he’s done with the conversation.

Great, first song on opening night and you’ll stand there like a deer in headlights.

You sigh quietly and grab your tambourine. If you’re not going to sing you’ll at least try to join in by jamming a bit to the beat. Only one thing echoes in your mind,

Don’t let him get to you!

‘The Chain’ starts playing. Steady drums beat in a slow rhythm as Aemond plays a bluesy melody on his guitar, and you realise that it is one of the songs that you and he had worked on when you were still together.

Last time you heard it, you had worked out the melody, but not really pinned down the lyrics. Aemond must’ve taken it upon himself to finish it, completely steering away from the direction you thought the song would take.

‘Listen to the wind blow, watch the sun rise’

Why haven't you heard anything about this new edit?

A chill runs down your spine.

Has he re-written it to be about you?

‘Run in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies’

Yes he has.

You and Aemond got married at sunrise by the Hightower summer house in Highgarden in June two years ago.

Aemond had proposed to you only five weeks prior, and being so in love that you couldn’t possibly imagine being separated for more than 15 minutes, you decided to tie the knot as quickly as possible.

You just wanted to be his.

That had been one of your fondest memories together; a small ceremony that was only yours.

Now, it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

Memories rotting from within.

You hate it. You don’t want to think about that now.

Damn him. Damn his love. Damn his lies.

‘And if you don’t love me now, you will never love me again’

‘I can still hear you saying, “you would never break the chain”’

As he sings, he sounds so angry, his voice is almost foreign to you.

He usually tries to keep his emotions in check, even when performing. Probably too scared to be vulnerable enough to let people know he actually has feelings, you reckon.

You remember the song and the rapid pace it picks up. Trying to ignore what you think is Aemond staring at you from the side of the stage, you dance and sing to the song about your heartbreak.

You let the music consume you as you work the tambourine, dancing and spinning, trying to relish in the feeling of knowing your band had made a killer song.

The audience is loving it. You have never heard them this rowdy before, and you can see the entire venue dancing.

You keep going, trying to distract yourself so your gaze won’t travel to Aemond.

He had played a rough first version of the guitar solo he wanted to incorporate in the song for you when you were still together. It really was phenomenal, fitting perfectly with the climax of the song.

He’s an insanely skilled guitarist, never missing a note and always instinctively knowing exactly what melody will match the feel of a song.

The audience is loving it, screaming and dancing with you.

Feeling braver and with the adrenaline from the performance running through your veins, you come up to your mic and sing along with Aemond and Helaena, chanting in unison.

The three of you sound good, like you always do.

The realisation gives you comfort; there’s still hope for your band.

‘Chain, keep us together’

‘Running in the shadows’

You can do this.

A/N: Thank you for reading! 🫶

[angeliicheartt]

Hii I love your writing, it's so good! Can I request a fic for shoto in which they're kids and the reader's parents had a quirk marriage too and she's worried her parents will force her to marry someone so she asks shoto to marry her and they have a fake kid wedding where they get fuyumi to "officiate" it and natsuo is the flower girl(lol I'm dying just thinking about kid natsuo throwing flowers in a dress) but they act like a married couple even when they're both in UA(she's also in 1a). Please please please I would really appreciate it! But it's completely fine if it's something you're not comfortable with! <333

ɪ ᴅᴏ!

includes: shoto todoroki

fem!reader

a/n: finished right before i had to leave for therapy 😚 i thought this was so cute but i didn't know how to end it but i hope u like it <3

you still remember the warm, summer day you went over to the todoroki household for the first time. you were 5, your parents had been arguing and your nanny thought it’d be good to get you out of the house. you remember holding tightly onto your nanny’s hand, the skin made soft by the lotion she always kept on her.

you watched as she shook a white-haired woman’s hand, her expression timid but welcoming. your eyes drift down to see 3 other children, your eyes lighting up at the sight. a girl and a boy, both with primarily white hair watch you from a few feet behind their mother, their expressions curious, and in front of them, clinging to his mother’s pant leg was a boy with half white and half red hair. you felt your nanny’s hand on the back of your head as you looked up at her.

“go play, i’ll be with mrs. todoroki,” her hand slides down to your back before gently nudging you towards the children before following mrs. todoroki out of the room. suddenly all eyes are on you and you want to shrink. your little hands fiddle with each other before the girl walks up to you. she has an eager smile on her face and you can tell she’s older than the other two, as you have to slightly crane your neck to see her before she crouches down.

“i'm fuyumi,” she says, her hand gesturing to herself, “i'm twelve.” 

she then points towards the white haired boy, “that's natsuo, he’s eight,” her finger moves to point at the smaller boy, “and that’s shoto, he’s five. there’s also touya, but he’s out in the forest right now.”

her head turns back to you and her lips form a soft smile once again, slowly warming you up. “i’m (y/n), i'm five too,” you say shyly, keeping your focus on fuyumi. her smile widens as she turns to shoto, “you hear that, sho? she’s your age.” 

you watch him nod shyly, his cheeks pink as he breaks eye contact, tilting his head to look at the ground. “he's just a little shy, nothing to worry about!” fuyumi states, smiling once again.

“can we go play again?” natsuo groans, crossing his arms as he raises an eyebrow at fuyumi. she sighs, her hand moving to her hip as she stands up again, “yes, let’s go.”

she begins walking, brushing past natsuo as he turns to follow her into the courtyard. you watched her go, unsure if you’re permitted to follow, but before you can question any longer, shoto’s chubby little hand grabbed yours and began trailing after his siblings. the hand holding yours is cool to the touch, a good aid for the sticky summer air. 

you and shoto sit on the stairs as natsuo grabs a ball, kicking it to fuyumi. she laughs as she returns it, the two of them kicking the ball back and forth. you turn your head towards shoto, gazing at him through your hair, “you’re not gonna play?”

he shakes his head, “i don’t get to play a lot, and i don’t really feel like playing,” he murmurs and you hum in response, burying your chin in your arms as they rest atop your knees. 

“do you get to play?” he asks, his two-toned head turning towards you. you shrug before lifting your chin from the juncture of your arms, “i'm allowed to, i just don’t have anyone to play with.” you say, watching as natsuo and fuyumi laugh and run around, “my parents argue a lot, s’cause they married for quirks ‘nd not love,'' you say, your five-year-old mind not having any idea of a filter.

“same with mine,” shoto says, his eyes still trained on you.

“mine might make me get a quirk marriage,” you say, looking over at shoto once again before your eyes widen at him.

“what?” he mutters, his cheeks flushing once more as you smile and grab onto his arm. “we could get married, that way you and me don’t get pushed into a quirk marriage,” you exclaim, your lip getting caught between your teeth as you wait for shoto’s response. 

“okay,” he mutters, his focus on the way you're holding onto his arm. you get up, grabbing his cool hand once more to pull him up before hurrying over to fuyumi and natsuo, “me and shoto are getting married.” you say as fuyumi looks down at the two of you.

“oh, you are now?” she asks with a grin as shoto and you both nod.

“alright then,” she says cheekily before grabbing natsuo and telling him to grab a dress from her closet and flowers from the garden.

after a few minutes, natsuo comes back and fuyumi bullies him into being the flower girl as she proclaims herself the officiant, with the reasoning that, “she actually knows what to say.”

during that time, shoto had run into the house to his mother before shyly saying he was marrying you and needed a ring. rei chuckled before getting up from her seat, muttering a small, “be right back,” to shoto and your nanny.

she comes back a few minutes later, a small, dainty, ring in hand. She crouches down, holding it out in front of shoto.

“will this work?” she asks and he nods, thanking his mother shyly before running back out to the courtyard. 

once everyone’s back in the courtyard, fuyumi began to orchestrate everything. she calls shoto over to her, where she’s set up a small arch made of ice. she stands under it as she guides shoto to the little ‘x’ she drew in the ground. she tells natsuo to “just throw the flowers on the ground while you walk,” before walking back to you, crouching before you.

“and all you gotta do is walk behind natsuo, got it?” she smiles as you nod. she pats the top of your head affectionately before walking back to her officiant spot.

natuso begins walking as he hums the wedding march, tossing bits of flowers across the ground. you follow behind him a few feet, your hands fiddling with themselves once again, almost as nervous as when you first got here. natsuo makes it to the arch before moving to stand behind shoto, and as he moves out of your view, you make eye contact with shoto. your shoulders relax and you let out the breath you were holding as you walk to the ‘x’ fuyumi drew out. 

“now, hold hands,” fuyumi directs and you and shoto obey, both of his hands moving to grab your fidgeting ones. 

she begins reading out the officiant script, cutting out the longer parts in the middle, before she finally gets to the end, “shoto, do you take (y/n) to be your wife?” she bends down slightly as she asks, watching as he nods.

“you have to say ‘i do’” she says and he repeats it, muttering out a small “i do,”

“and do you, (y/n), take shoto to be your husband?” she turns to you, as you nod and say “i do,”

fuyumi straightens up, a grin on her face as she proclaims, “then, by the power not vested in me, i pronounce you husband and wife!” her hands move to her hips as she rests her weight on one leg, “now give the bride a little kiss on the cheek.” 

shoto leans forward, gently planting a soft kiss on your chubby cheek, and the two of you hear a camera shutter, before turning to see shoto’s mom and your nanny watching the two of you, a camera in rei’s hand. 

“we've got to go now, (y/n), we’ll come back another day, hm?” your nanny reaches out her hand for you to grab. you almost run over to her before shoto grabs your little hand.

“you almost forgot the ring,” he murmurs as he slides the slightly-too-big ring onto your ring finger. you grin as you kiss his little cheek in thanks.

“i’ll see you soon,” you murmur before running off to your nanny, her soft hand taking hold of yours, commenting on the little ring you received.

and that was the beginning of you and shoto’s relationship. the two of you have never explicitly stated that you two are together, but you’ve always been with shoto. you've been ‘married’ to him since you were five, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

your head turns as you look at shoto, sitting on one of the dorm couches, your hand in his as he plays with the little wedding ring he gave you over a decade ago. you smile at him as he glances over, and you lean your head in to give him a small kiss on his cheek.

“i'm glad you asked me to marry you,” shoto mutters, his eyes flickering down to the ring his fingers continue to fidget with. 

“i'm glad you agreed,” you giggle before mina stops dead in front of you, “did i hear the word marry?? you two are married??”

you laugh at her reaction, patting the seat next to you for her to sit so you can explain how you’re ‘married’ to shoto.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @satelitis

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Okay this fic idea has been in my head for weeks...

Imagine reader being Percy's (full) sister and secretly dating Clarisse. And Percy's rambling about not liking "hating" Clarisse and reader is just doing whatever and doing that thing where someone's pretending to be interested just hums and agrees absentmindedly and then he just says "Fuck Clarisse" and reader is like "GIRL I'M TRYING, BUT SHE'S BUSY" (this is not an actual smut request for her tho), but reader accidentally said it out loud (ik it's cliche to 'accidentally say stuff out loud but I like it in this context). And Percy is like "Excuse me what da fok" and then he storms off to yell at Clarisse and reader hears him yell "REALLY?! MY SISTER?!" and everyone who's watching is just scared for Percy and the consequenses of yelling at Clarisse.

I imagine the "Look here comes the consequence of my actions chasing me right now" audio during this scene

- I’ve been trying -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Reader

Synopsis - your secret relationship with clarisse quickly becomes not so secret

An - I BURNT MY FUCKING FINGER

Palestine aid links

It was a few hours before capture the flag. Most kids spent their time preparing for the game as it was the last one for summer; you however were pressed up against a tree with your favorite girl trailing sweet kisses down your neck.

“Fuck” you gasped as clarisse found your sweet spot. Bringing your hands to her hair you slightly tugged it, almost like an attempt to bring her closer of you could.

Clarisse flattened her tongue against the red mark she had began to leave. Her grip tightened on your hips and her leg pushing slightly between your thighs. The moment would of gone further only if clarisses brother hadn’t started yelling for hee.

Hitting her arm clarisse eventually came to, pulling away only slightly. “What-“ she panted heavily.

“Mm your brother he’s calling for you” you complained with a deep breath. Annoyed clarisse rolled her eyes. Taking a look around she returned her gaze back down at you, taking a notice of your pupil blown eyes. A giddy grin crossed her lips, finding her cocky attitude amusing you pushed off the tree to kiss her sweetly.

Shaking her head some clarisse squeezed your hip one last time. “You have no idea what you do to me… we’ll have to finish this later I’ll be busy for the rest of today and probably tomorrow” she sighed.

“Really” you complained making clarisse chuckle. “Yeah really, don’t get to bitchy it’s just two days”

Hitting her arm again you chuckled again. “Shut up I don’t get bitchy”

“Uh huh whatever you say babe” she teased drunkly walking backwards. Grabbing her spear she blew you a kiss before jogging towards the sound of her sibling calling.

——

“Then she has the AUDACITY! The fucking—“

“Language” you sighed giving Percy an authoritarian look. Shrugging you off he continued his ramble on about how he hated clarisse.

Shaking your head some you smiled finding it amusing your little brother hates your girlfriend. Though no body knew she was your girlfriend. You both agreeing on keeping it a secrete as it kept people off clarisses back and Percy off yours.

Your relationship with Percy had always been a little strained. Finding out you were a demigod let alone a daughter of Poseidon you had left home at an early age; causing you to never really know your brother. Growing up at camp it seemed like Percy was more like your friend than sibling. You still came home however, every holiday you were back in the same shitty apart with the same shitty step father.

When Percy finally came to camp it was easier to build a relationship with him. And for once… it felt like you really did have a brother.

“…also her blaming me for her spear breaking like it isn’t HER FAULT for attacking me! And I swear to the gods if I hear one more person say she isn’t that bad I’ll scream” Percy groaned holding his head in his hands while he paced in mad circles. Finally tuning back into the conversation the first thing you had heard — “UGH fuck clarisse!” He huffed.

“Girl I’m trying but she won’t be free until Sunday” you groaned holding your head back. It took only a moment for you to realize what you had said.

Looking at you then a door he quickly ran out, following his lead you chased after him. “Percy wait!” You yelled half laughing.

Instantly finding clarisse Percy stood before the cocky girl who was sitting with her siblings on the porch of their cabin; waiting for the final hour before the games.

Clarisse turned her attention from her brothers to Percy before scoffing. “What do You want beanstalk” her instult causing a small fit of laughter around her.

“MY SISTER OUT OF EVERYONE YOUR SLEEPING WITH MY SISTER!!” He shouted causing his face to go red.

The people around went quiet. For what seemed like minutes lasted only a few seconds before Percy began yelling again.

Clarisse who was stunned just sat there and let the boy yell at her. Standing right beside him was an embarrassed version of yourself.

At a certain point she had gotten tired of the small boy shouting at Her. His breaking voice annoying her. Standing up clarisse walked over to you, placing her hands on your waist and kissing you sweetly.

A slightly laugh leaving her lips as she knew your brother was watching in astonishment. Breaking the kiss she smiled at you before turning her shit eating grin to Percy. “Mind your business. What your sister does with me I’m sure you don’t wanna know” she chuckled, hitting your ass before walking away with her siblings following quickly.

Percy looked at you once again shocked. “Isn’t she dreamy” she smiled giddily. Your brother sighed, grabbing your shirt and dragging you away.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + one

authors note: hi! this is a complete rework from another roman story i wrote but needed to redo. it's a mafia au, so understandably super dark. a 'blink and you'll miss it' bit of a beauty and the beast retelling. not meant to be anything groundbreaking or unlike most mafia stories.

i've found that my writing is best when 2nd person pov, so i wanted to challenge myself to make this third person to better my writing, thus, bear with me, ya'll. :)

if any cw/tw's are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: language, violence against women, mention of parental death, vague hinting at past sexual trauma

song inspo: 'looking through your eyes' by leann rimes

words: 5.2k

Through trial and error, mostly error, a lot of error, Solana Miller has learned and mastered most of the things that upset her father. 

Speaking out of turn. Meals not being ready on time. The house being a “mess.” The actual list is a living breathing thing that grows with each day and every unfortunate occurrence, but always at the very top of this list is lack of punctuality. 

There’s nothing Xavier Miller hates more than lateness. 

And that’s exactly what she is. 

Solana nearly faceplants into the three steps leading into the house with how fast she’s running. Her shaking hand and sweaty palm make it take longer than usual to unlock the front door, and the force in which she slams it shut behind her should be enough to knock the nearby family photo off the wall.

The photo that she is not included in, of course. 

She’s brushing off invisible lent as she rushes into her father’s office. “I’m sorry, there was an—” Her panting mouth snaps shut when she reaches the doorway, hand holding onto the frame of the door. “—accident.”

The minute Solana saw the flashing police lights and array of red brake lights was the moment she realized that she was in for a brutal punishment. She’d started to mentally prepare for such, trying to recall if she’s restocked the first aid kit kept in her bathroom and frequently retrieved. But, it’s not until she’s standing in the doorway of her father’s office, an office that’s filled with not only him and her brother, Wes, but other men that she realizes the ferocity of this punishment may be unlike any she’s received in some time.

Not only is she late, but she’s now interrupted some sort of meeting that he wanted her present for. 

Xavier’s eyes land on Solana with faux happiness that conceals flames she recognizes as a precursor for what’s to come. Naturally, like he’s not imagining all the cruel ways he can hurt her, in a way that only he can do, he slaps on a tight smile. “Ahh, there she is.”

Solana also realizes how almost everyone’s gaze is on her, and that doesn't make for a good response because she finds herself asking, “what’s going o—”

Xavier’s smile is very much unlike the ice in his voice. “Silence, child.” 

The sharpness of his command evokes an immediate response. Her shoulders slump and head drops. The displeasure just keeps growing. Solana can already feel the bruises forming, the sting of the ice on her busted lip. 

One of the men, an oversized, middle aged white man with a sharp gaze speaks. “I take it, this is your daughter?”

“It is,” her father confirms. If she didn’t know any better, Solana could almost swear she hears a hint of proudness. “Please forgive her lateness. She knows the importance of obedience.”

And the repercussions of obedience. Repercussions Solana knows await her once this meeting ends.

“I hope she does.” The same white man clears his throat. Solana hears the ruffling of papers but refuses to look up. Her gaze is better served focused on the ground, her silence and submissiveness certainly music to her father’s ears. “We received the requested medical report, and it appears you weren’t lying, Miller. The girl is still a virgin.”

That….that is the moment where it takes all willpower for Solana’s head not to snap up, eyes wide with both confusion and partial recognition. She’d wondered why her father asked her to schedule her yearly check-up with her GYN when she wasn’t due for another couple of months but knew better than to question, so she went ahead and did it. 

And she wondered why this checkup was so….different. Labs were taken, more questions asked, and a vaginal exam that had her leaving more uncomfortable than she’d ever been with Dr. Boyd. Not that seeing the woman was ever an enjoyable time in the first place. She's cold, stoic, an obvious doctor on the mafia payroll, but she's still a woman. 

Solana can't have a male GYN. She can't have a male doctor in any sort of specialty.

The confusion, however, comes into play at this man’s words.

“The girl is still a virgin.” 

That couldn’t be farthest from the truth.

“Her blood work also indicates she should have no problems conceiving a child.”

Emotions overpower reason as Solana breaks her silence and lifts her head. “What?” One furious glance from Xavier, and immediately, she knows that she’s fucked up.

She also realizes that she’s failed to notice one very important member whose sheer size takes up almost the entirety of her father’s onyx black loveseat.

Solana has heard the name Roman Reigns more times than she can keep track of over the years. It’s inescapable to live in this life and not know of the brutal ruler of the Bloodline, one of the most notorious mafia bosses in the underworld. But never in any of her 28 years has she seen him in person. Maybe somewhat in the same vicinity but never in close proximity, not like now where he’s sitting mere feet away from her.

He’s reclined back into the seat, thick legs spread, a blank expression on his handsome, bearded face. His features are sharp and predatory, yet there’s something about his eyes, a beautiful, light shade of brown that’s such a contrast to the cold blooded killer he is. Bulging, rippling muscles seem to be at battle with the plain black shirt he wears, and she notices his silky black hair is pulled back into a surprisingly neat bun of sorts. 

Solana knows that she shouldn't stare, but it’s hard not to. The man is objectively beautiful. He’s also staring directly at her. 

Panicked, her head drops down, eyes returning to continue counting the amount of beige swirls in her father’s persian rug. 

“Shut up…. ”Wes speaks from the other side of the room. He’s leaned up against the column near the bookshelf, lazily spinning around the pocketknife he never goes anywhere without. 

It’s the same knife that’s cut into her skin at least more than a couple of times over the years, drawing various amounts of blood depending on the extent of his anger.

Wes is always angry.

“I’m a man of my word, Mr. Heyman.” Solana doesn’t even need to be looking up to know her father has his hand over his chest, that faux sense of honor painting his harsh features. “I would never disrespect the Tribal Chief by wasting his time.” Solana’s throat goes tight. “My daughter is a worthy candidate.”

Candidate. Heir. Virgin.

It doesn’t take long with these major clues for Solana to piece together what they’re discussing, why her presence was required when never before has her father wanted her anywhere near one of his meetings.

Arranged marriage.

They’re discussing a possible arranged marriage between Solana and Roman Reigns. 

Her fingers flex and suddenly start to rub nervously against the soft material of her dress. Any appetite she had prior to entering the home is no longer present, vacated, replaced by a thick, heaping layer of anxiety.

Arranged marriages are far too common in this life. There’s not a week that’s gone by since she became of age that she doesn't hear about some union between two members of rivaling or partnering families. It's just how these things are done.

However, at 28, much past the typical timeline that daughters are married off, she’d accepted that that was not her fate. And she was okay with that, more than okay. Is okay with that.

Solana has a……complicated relationship with men, anyway. With people in general, but especially men.

The thought of her being paired off to Roman is so bad that it’s almost laughable. Their compatibility is in the negative range. He would never give her a second look, not even a first. A man like him needs someone who matches his prowess. She isn’t even on the radar.

And yet…..

And yet her father has somehow garnered interest, provided his counsel with her medical information “proving” her worthiness, and secured a meeting.

Circling back around to the medical report has her chest feeling tight and heavy. Lies. Her father has clearly paid off Dr. Boyd to write up whatever he believed needed to be said to increase his chances of locking in this deal.

She doesn’t know about the fertility portion, never really bothering or concerning herself with that part of her health. Someone has to have to have sex to conceive a child, and as far as Solana is concerned, that's never going to happen.

Not....not again.

But the virgin part is most definitely a lie. The physical exam certainly would have confirmed that.

And yet, the exact opposite was stated. 

Chills instantly move down her spine. Her father is perpetuating a fraud. Even more, he’s perpetuating fraud to a man who’s rumored to have a body count in the thousands. The same man he’s trying to pawn her off to.

This….this is not good.

It’s not good at all.

—----------

“She’s weak.”

That’s the first thing to leave Roman's mouth since they entered the Miller Manor, and it’s not announced until they're back in the SUV and on their way back to his estate.

Checking emails and clearing notifications that piled during the time his phone was tucked away, he continues. “Too young. Has no backbone. It’s embarrassing.” Roman’s tone, much like everything else about that pointless meeting, reeks of boredom. 

“Her father clearly has her on a tight leash,” Rikishi adds. He brings the handkerchief he keeps in his shirt pocket and swipes it across his forehead, dapping up the light sheen of sweat that’s already formed in the walk from the house to the SUV. “But, a very pretty girl.”

Roman cannot and will not disagree on that. She’s undeniably beautiful, but everything else about her is unappealing. And saying Miller has her on a tight leash is an understatement. She’s terrified of him. The brother too,  and Roman would take a solid guess that one of the two is responsible for the slightly faded but still visible bruise he noticed on Solana’s upper forearm. 

There’s some conflicted emotion present at that piece of information, though he mostly leans in one direction.

Women and children should be off limits. Specifically, women and children who aren’t already indoctrinated into the life to the point of training. Roman knows plenty of kids who completed their first kill while still in single digits and women who fight better than some of his men. For them, it’s free game. They’ve proven they can handle themselves.

Solana doesn’t fall in any of those categories, and he’d be shocked if she even knows how to hold a gun.

Thus, in his mind, she’s off-limits.

Nonetheless, his family is full of fighters, regardless of sex.

So there's the other part of him that can't understand her passivity, that believes she's just weak. 

The thought process generates a list of other, much more adequate options. “What about Belair?”

“Engaged to be married in the Montez family.” Roman rolls his eyes. That fucker is an irritating prick. Seems like a desperate match. 

“Cargill?”

“She….” It’s slightly comical for Roman, watching the older man work his hardest to explain what was inarguably a disrespectful rejection. “---is not interested.” 

A dark chuckle leaves his throat. “She said fuck off, didn’t she?”

“More or less.” 

Roman smiles. He would expect nothing less. Cargill is a beast of a woman, a sure fun time in the sheets if she would ever remove the stick from up her ass.

“If I may, my Tribal Chief….” When Roman remains quiet, he takes that as his cue to continue. “The girl may be young and docile, but that also makes her moldable. She will do whatever you want with no protest. Is that not a possible advantage?” Roman continues to look out the window, allowing Paul to add on, “and she will have no problem giving you an heir, which is inarguably the most important thing at this point in your life.”

“He brings up a good point, uce,” Rikishi chimes. “With your temper, it’s probably best for you to take a wife who is more passive than dominant.”

Logically, it makes sense, but the idea of a stuttering, stammering wife who can’t even maintain eye contact for more than a minute doesn’t appeal to him in the slightest. 

“And as far as age, she’s closer to 30 than anything. You go for any older, and you might run into fertility struggles. This is the perfect age.” Rikishi’s crooked smile is followed by a small chuckle. “You ain’t so young yourself anymore, uce. Gotta have an even balance.”

There’s a difference between a balance and a child. Roman is prepared to say as such when Jimmy speaks, deciding to add his two cents from the passenger's seat.

“Look, Big Dog. All you need is for her to give you a kid, and you heard Paul. She can do that. Ain’t no need in making this bigger than what it is.” His insertion and contribution to the conversation ends up being valid. Granted, if he was anyone else, the delivery would have resulted in a maiming. But, this is Jimmy. He’s like a brother to Roman. Him and Jey. Hence their privilege with speaking so bluntly. “Shit, and did you see that body? Mannn, I’d never pull out of that.”

Also a valid point. Her dress was fitted around the chest area, accentuating heavy breast he could most definitely see himself palming as he fucked her from behind. The rest of the dress wasn’t as contoured, but it flowed against her shape when she walked in, and he could make out the curves he was certain she preferred to keep hidden. It’d been a while since he’d taken a woman to bed with a body like hers, a preference, but also not as easy to find in his world of fit assassins and killers who spend more time in the gym than anywhere else.

His latest set of women were on the slimmer side, moderate thickness, nothing like this girl.

But sexual desirability aside, her passivity indicates she’d be….that kind of woman. The woman who expects words of affirmation and quality time. A “gentle” kind of woman who’d want him to be sweet and patient in the bedroom, to make love to her. Roman is neither and none of those things.

He fucks, and he fucks hard. Subsequently, his wife should be cut from the same cloth. 

“Just….think about it, my Tribal Chief, hmmm?” Paul’s voice is tentative, laced with that tone that indicates he believes the decision should be made sooner rather than later. Granted, he values his life and standing in the bloodline, so he opts to not implement time constraints. 

A wise decision. 

“The scars.” Roman counted eight of them total, the one most pronounced on her face, slashing across her right eye and into the top of her cheek. The type of scar that’s embedded into the skin. And the soul. With a few of his own, it’s one of the first things he noticed. “What’s the story there?”

Paul quickly pulls out the portfolio from his briefcase, hurriedly flipping through papers when he settles on the one he’s looking for. “Ahhh….” Paul clears his throat, a telltale sign that’s he uncomfortable with what he’s about to say. “2005. It was a hit. Her mother was killed in the attack. Knifing. Solana survived, clearly.”

Roman turns his attention from the passing cars to look at his Wise Man. For the first time since this whole interview process began, Roman is intrigued. “She was there?” Paul confirms as such and says something else, but Roman’s attention is out the window again, haphazardly watching the flow of traffic, assimilating and accommodating this new piece of information. 

This may be the one and only thing he can understand about this girl. Something…something he can relate to. 

Survival

One doesn’t go through something like that without coming out on top or letting it bury you. Unlike him, she’d clearly gone the latter route. Granted, just making it out alive, physically, he knows better than anyone, is a feat in and of itself.

“Give me her file.”

—-------------

Dear Mom,

I’m sorry I didn’t write yesterday. It was…..a day.

I’m not even sure where to begin, because I’m not sure what to even feel at this moment to be honest. Dad is trying to marry me off to a mafia head, which would be fine, except….except that head is Roman Reigns. He’s….he’s a monster, mama. Has no soul. Not that many men in this life do, but there’s something about him that’s even more terrifying than the others. To make matters worse, dad had Dr. Boyd lie in my medical report. She wrote that I’m still a virgin, I guess something about my hymen still being intact. Mama, that’s a lie. There’s no way that’s possible. 

Not.....with what they did to me.

I’m trying hard not to panic, because there’s no way Roman would go for me. He’s a monster, yes, but even Lucifer was God’s most beautiful angel. He’s a very handsome man. He would never want someone like me.

I don’t know any man who would.

“Solana.”

Solana quickly snaps her journal closed, using the pen in her hand to mark her spot. She’s met with the gentle smile of 73–year–old Meryl Jensen, a widow who’s worked at this library for almost forty years.

Solana still remembers the first day she met Mrs. Jensen. She was 6-years-old, and her mom was looking for a certain book she’d read about in the newspaper. A book that she hoped would further and better her English speaking skills. A native of Mexico, Nina Miller taught herself English by immersing herself into American literature, film, and music. 

Similarly, Nina taught her Solana Spanish by immersing her daughter in Spanish literature, film, and music. A secret among the two as an always hostile, paranoid Xavier “banned” Nina from teaching their daughter a language he couldn’t understand.

If he couldn’t control it, it was a no-go.

But it was when Mrs. Jensen was helping Nina locate her book, Solana noticed another book sitting near a kids display. Goodnight Moon.

If Solana tries hard enough, she can still remember the warm smile her mother gave her as she allowed her to check out the book, her very first "purchase" from the library. It started a love of books, aided by Mrs. Jensen who always provided appropriate recommendations to Solana and her mom.

Not that Solana tries to think too much about memories with her mother. They’re almost always ruined and replaced with the sounds of the butcher knife slicing into her mother’s body as Nina used the last of her strength to shield and protect her daughter from the violent assault that would end up taking her life.

Solana’s smile, however, does dim and her stomach drops when she realizes that Ms. Jensen isn’t alone. 

“This girl is always writing, I swear.” It’s only when the older woman refers to her book that Solana quickly closes up her journal, shoving it to the side.

Her eyes never leave Roman though.

And his certainly aren’t leaving her, even as Mrs. Jensen places a hand on his arm, laughing at her own joke.

Mrs. Jensen then squints her eyes and leans over the counter. “Child, did you fall again?” It takes a second for recognition to dawn. She’s then hit with the memory of her father backhanding her across the room, the force sending her to the floor after the dispersion of yesterday’s meeting. A truly pale punishment compared to some of his prior assaults. “My goodness.” Mrs. Meryl laughs, shaking her head. “An everyday klutz I tell you. I can’t think of one day she hasn’t come in here without some kind of mark from her clumsiness.”

Roman’s staring directly at Solana while acknowledging the older woman’s casual observation. “Interesting.” He then darts his eyes, offering a smile that, if one didn’t know any better, could be considered genuine. But Solana does know better. She knows much better. “Could you give us a moment?”

Of course, Mrs. Jensen obliges, saying something about hushing up some boisterous high school students on the first level before it’s just Solana and Roman. 

She has a million and one questions, starting with why the hell Roman Reigns is at her job. Whatever the reason, it can’t be good. A man like him only brings about chaos and mayhem.

And death.

Swallowing and powering through the onslaught of anxiety, she starts off in an unsurprisingly soft voice, “if you’re looking for my father, he’s—”

“If I wanted your father, I would be speaking to him right now.” Roman’s interruption is dangerously calm, but Solana detects a hint of irritation. “You’re the one I want.”

Oh.

What in the world this man could want with Solana is beyond her. To make matters worse, Solana catches his gaze on her bruised cheek again. Makeup could only do much, but she's really starting to wish she went for heavier coverage. She drops her head, focusing on the denim of her jeans to avoid his burning stare. “I—umm.”

Solana’s body registers before her head does that Roman is lifting his hand to touch her. She responds accordingly, jumping back and away from the interaction. He chuckles, darkly, lowering his hand to his side. “That was some fall.”

Solana unconsciously brings her hand to hover over her cheek. “I’m—clumsy.”

“No, you’re not.” It takes a second for Solana to register his blunt comment and another for her to digest that he’s calling her bluff. “But, you are a terrible liar.”

He’s not wrong on either note, but she’s unsure just how to respond. “What—what do you want from me?”

Roman straightens up, and just the sheer size of him makes her swallow in fear. He’s a beast of a man, more beast though than anything else. “To make sure you understand what this is. It’s obvious Miller didn’t inform you about the meeting, and I won’t go into anything with anyone unless they’re fully aware of what they’re signing up for.”

If he’s waiting for Solana to acknowledge the first part of his reason for showing up at her job, he does a poor job waiting because he goes straight into his disclaimer. 

“I have no desire to be with you or any other woman for anything more than a sexual release. We’ll ensure my bloodline continues, but that’s it. Financially, you’ll want for nothing, and I can assure you, your clumsiness won’t be an issue. But, I will never love you, never see you as anything more than a business arrangement because that’s what you are.” He’s studying her facial expressions, reading all of the emotions oscillating around. “Do you understand?”

There’s a couple of different thoughts racing through her mind at this moment, but the dominant thought is wondering just what in the hell would possess someone like him to ever even consider someone like her? He is the definition of brute strength in all areas. She is beyond broken. There can’t be anything appealing about that.

But then….maybe there is. Roman knows she will not cause him any trouble, can recognize this brokenness and sees it as an easy way to get what he needs while still having the freedom to do whatever, and whoever he wants. It’s a bit of a win-win. 

And as far as the love aspect…..

Solana learned a long time ago that all of the fairytales lied. There is no prince that rides in and saves the damsel in distress. No one to swoop in and save you from the monster. It’s either killed or be killed, and her death already occurred on August 7th, 2005.

As ironic and fucked up as it is, Solana recognizes this is the best deal she’ll ever get in her life. 

With quite literally nothing to lose, she acknowledges him.

“I understand.”

—---------

The minute Solana steps into the house, she’s immediately shoved into the freshly painted wall behind her. A strong hand is on her throat, restricting her breathing.

“What did you say to him!”

Fingers foolishly grasping at the hand suffocating her, Solana tries to speak even with knowing that it’s impossible when she can’t even breathe. This only pisses her brother off even more. He bangs her head into the wall, causing the nearby pictures to shake. “Answer me, you stupid bitch!”

“Let her go, Wes.”

Xavier’s command is followed with a delayed acquiescence. Solana falls to the floor, coughing and gasping violently. She brings her hand to the back of her head to check for any blood, but her gaze is soon on the black leather shoes her blurred version is able to make out.

Solana cries out when her father grips her hair, yanking her head back and forcing her to look at him.

“We know Reigns came to see you at your job today.”

At some point in her life, Solana would be stunned and partially disturbed this, by how her father is aware of this piece of information.  But, this is no longer that time in her life. That time when she was naive enough to think that she could ever escape this life, ever leave and never look back.

She’d tried once. Foolishly. And it landed her in the hospital for two weeks. 

Solana can still remember her father’s dry, cracked lips pressing an insincere kiss against her temple as he said in the calmest yet coldest voice. “You ever try to leave this place again, and I’ll make sure to finish the job.” 

That was the last time she ever fooled herself into believing better waited for her.

“Now, what did you say to him?”

“I—I—nothing.” It’s not a lie but not the entire truth. She didn’t say anything that should have pissed him off. Then again, with a man as temperamental as Roman, anything and everyone could piss him off. Look at her dad and brother. “What did he—”

A phone ringing possibly saves, or just delays, the next set of hits. And even better, it’s Xavier’s phone.

He pulls it out of the back pocket of his pants, eyes lighting up. With a mischievous smile, he taps the screen twice, answering, “my Tribal Chief.” Solana’s eyes widen. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Cut the bullshit, Miller.” Roman’s deep, baritone voice is powerful and authoritative, even when he’s not even in the room. “You know why I’m calling.” And before her father can further upset him, Roman jumps straight to the point. “We have a deal.”

It’s been some time since Solana has been so thoroughly surprised by something she’s heard that she briefly loses awareness of where she is. But this….this is one of those moments. 

He can’t…..he can’t have said what she thinks he just said. Her acknowledging understanding was just a formality. She didn’t think he was actually considering marrying her.

Xavier’s smile is broad, signs of a man who just got exactly what he wanted. “Wonderful. We shall start planning.”

“Two weeks. The wedding will be two weeks from today.”

The tightening in her chest has returned. Solana is certain she’s about to start hyperventilating. This….this can’t be happening. 

Xavier and Wes share a look as he stammers with a response. “Uhh, yes, of course—whatever you wa—”

“Oh, and Miller?”

Irritation flashes in Xavier’s eyes, but he shoves it back for a polite acknowledgment. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“You or your boy lay a single fucking finger on her again, and I’ll gut you both where there’s nothing left to bury.”

Solana is almost certain there’s not a single one of them that’s not taken back by Roman’s icy warning. However, she swallows when her father’s fire gaze lands on her. She knows immediately she’s in for a matching bruise on the other side of her face.

Xavier laughs quietly. “That girl has always been so clumsy. I assure you—”

“One.”

Xavier is understandably confused by Roman’s single-word response. “Pardon?”

“Everyone gets one chance to lie to me. You’ve just used yours.” For the briefest hint of a second, Solana believes she sees fear flash in her father’s eyes. “Consider yourself warned.”

The phone disconnects. 

Silence settles over the three of them, but it doesn’t last. 

“I–I don’t understand.” Solana finds her voice, unable to stay quiet in a moment that’s completely just changed the course of her life. “I–I can’t marry Roman.”

For a lot of reasons. Many reasons that she can list out and defend if given the chance.

Solana is consumed by her thoughts and pending mental breakdown, so much so that she misses when her brother stalks across the room. He throws her back up against the wall, and the minute her eyes land on the silver, she’s frozen in place.

His grin is predatory and satisfactory as he murmurs, floating the knife in front of her. “It seems you’ve finally made your existence have some type of purpose.” Solana has to close her eyes. Just seeing knives sometimes brings her back to that night, and having one pressed against her….

Wes knows exactly how agonizing that is to her, hence his favorite method of torture. 

Swallowing, she weakly protests, “you—you told them I’m a virgin.”

That’s a major reason why. Her father has made her out to be some chaste, pure woman when she’s anything but. And to lie to Roman, of all people, about something like that.

They’ve more or less signed her death decree.

“No. Dr. Boyd’s medical reports confirmed you’re still untouched, and you’ll go along with it for however long is necessary.” Xavier’s rebuttal is smooth and to the point, like he doesn’t see the issue with his actions.

He never does. 

“Don’t you understand?” Wes lazily slides the knife up and down her skin, smiling at the terror in her face. It’s his greatest motivation, witnessing the extent of her fear toward him. “We’d let Reigns and his entire bloodline fuck you if that’s what it took to get what we want.”

Solana has no shock value at his words. Wes stopped caring anything for her the minute she got their mother killed, and it’s not as if she can entirely blame him. 

Nina would still be alive if not for Solana. It’s something she accepted ages ago, an undeniable truth. 

However, she does have to ask in a pained voice, “what do you want?”

Xavier supplies, taking a hit of his cigar she didn’t realize he was holding this whole time. “We want and will have control of the bloodline.”

If not for her current situation, she’d laugh. Control of the bloodline. That’s….that’s not even a dream. That’s a delusion. Still, there’s an undertone to his voice and words that alarm her. In a quiet voice, she protests. “That’s—that’s impossible.”

Solana hisses as Wes presses the knife deeper into her throat, nicking her skin and drawing blood. “No, it isn’t, not anymore. Because we have a way in.”

And it’s with widened eyes and a constricted throat that Solana finally understands what’s happening, what they plan to have happen. 

Her voice is barely above a whisper. “No….”

Xavier answers with a cruel, wicked smile. “You’re going to kill Roman Reigns for us.”

[firelordsfirelady]

IV. Outburst

Author: @firelordsfirelady

Imagine: When Y/N—a princess of one of the Water Tribes—is told she’s leaving her tribe, she never expects that she’s to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son, nor was she prepared to be exiled the very day she arrived at the Fire Nation. With her life in the hands of her new fiancée, how will life change for the princess? 

Pairing: Zuko x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of fear, banishment, mentions of burns/abuse, frustration, violence, betrayal

Word Count: 1167

Destined to be Yin and Yang

I own no rights to Avatar the Last Airbender or any of the characters/story.

Author’s Notes

The characters as all aged up so Zuko’s banishment happens when he’s 16 

Keep in mind I am bringing a unique world with inspiration from ATLA in their characters, some of the events that happen, bending, etc. Not many things may align or occur with what happened in the show. It’s intended that way, so I hope you enjoy it regardless.

See Y/N’s inspiration here. 

Destined to be Yin and Yang Soundtrack (YouTube)

Zuko made no mention of the cookies the next morning, but I anticipated as much from the Prince. The crew, however, raved about my cookies and were quite happy to hear that I would make them plenty of cookies during our time together. I kept my promise because every full moon I would make the crew a batch of cookies and then practice my water bending on the deck before heading to bed. Of course, I never let Zuko or Iroh be out of the cookie receiving as I would deliver their plates before going to bed. 

Thus began my new daily routine of lending a hand in the kitchen or helping with the dishes. I often found myself aiding in other chores around the ship, which only served to aggravate Zuko more. Zuko always made sure to make remarks about how informal of a princess I was, so I made it my mission to find ways to annoy the Prince further. Let’s just say that I was very good at it. 

The first time Zuko saw me mopping the deck, he made a snide comment that earned him an accidental flick of some water from the mop bucket. 

“Forgive me, Prince Zuko,” I had teased him that day. “I am merely just a princess who doesn’t know how to handle the mop.” Iroh hid his small chuckle at my comment, knowing all too well that I was more than capable of handling the simple mop. I think he found it mildly amusing that I teased the Prince often, and this served to agitate the Fire Lord’s son further.

Despite the banter from Zuko,  I had grown to enjoy life traveling around on a ship. As a young girl, I had dreamed of what it would be like to see the world outside of the Tribe, but I quickly realized that as the princess I would never have those opportunities. Especially since after the Avatar disappeared from the world a century ago, the nations decided to sequester away from each other to protect themselves.

With Zuko on the quest to find the Avatar, he has been researching the previous avatars. We have been to several Avatar shrines across the nations and have been frequenting the other Water Tribes. Zuko was sure that the next avatar would be a Waterbender, and so we stayed near in case the Avatar made his appearance. Each time Zuko got a hint or a tip that there was a chance of the Avatar appearing, the ship would speed to the new destination. Disappointment met Zuko at every new stop, and I felt my heart break more as I watched the hope slowly die from his eyes. Yet, at the next whisper of a sign from the Avatar, Zuko would begin the cycle all over again.

The months slowly turned into years, and Iroh and I met regularly to drink tea together. During our tea visits, Iroh would tell me stories of dragons and the origin stories of Firebending, and, in return, I shared the stories of the Water Nation and our origin. I enjoyed listening to Iroh’s great accomplishments and was glad that I had found a friend in Iroh.

While my friendship with Iroh grew, I could not say the same about my relationship with Zuko. Three years of the same routine with Zuko had begun to wear the hope in me down. I tried my best to make an effort with Zuko in hopes that we might be able to at least tolerate each other. I gave him cookies every full moon, and I offered information that I read at the shrines regarding the avatar that might help Zuko. I did get a small glimmer of hope when he stopped calling me an informal princess after the first six months of life on the ship. After two years, there was light banter between us that was somewhat jovial, but the banter was more teasing than anything else.

That all changed today when Zuko had met another dead end in his search for the Avatar. Once we arrived back at the boat, Zuko’s anger was palpable as he stalked on to the deck. Iroh’s face was a look of concern as he watched Zuko clench and unclench his fists. I chewed my bottom lip as I slowly walked onto the deck behind Iroh, who shared a concerned look with me. My heart increased its pace in my chest as I opened my mouth to say something to the Prince.

“Zuko—“ I started, but Zuko whipped around on his heel and his golden eyes were bright with rage.

“You don’t get the right to call me Zuko.” He snapped in anger. “You’re a good-for-nothing princess who doesn’t understand her place.” My breath hitched as I prepared myself for whatever else he was about to say. “I can understand why my father wants me to find the Avatar, but I can’t begin to wrap my head around why the hell he wants me to marry you.”

“You’re prancing around this ship like it’s a vacation home. Cooking with the crew, cleaning the decks, and not to mention you’re waterbending during the full moon.“ Keeping my face straight, I felt hurt cloud my heart as Zuko spoke his next words with so much hate. “You make cookies to compensate for what you lack as a person. You’re a pathetic excuse for a princess, and I hate that you’re my betrothed.”

Zuko was breathing heavily as he finished his rant, and I swallowed the lump in my throat in a pathetic excuse to calm the tears forming in my eyes. Silence fell upon the entire boat as I composed myself. Part of me wanted to scream at him that he wasn’t the only one suffering here. A tiny part of me wanted to wrap him in a cocoon of ice and then walk away. Another part of me wanted to hug him because I could see he was frustrated, and I was the only person who he was set on taking his anger upon.

I did none of those things as I shook my head and walked away. His words cut me deep, but I refused to let him see the tears that silently fell from my eyes as I made haste to my bedroom. Once behind the security of the closed door, I let the tsunami wave of tears flow as I cried into my pillow.

After a few hours of crying, I lay in bed and I stared at the ceiling. My eyes were no doubt red and puffy from the amount of crying I had done. Though my eyes burned, I could not tempt my body into a thoughtless slumber. So, instead of sleeping, I got up from bed and lit the oil lamp on my desk. I grabbed some blank pieces of paper and a pencil then began doing the one thing that would distract me the most right now: draw.

Tag List @chevysstuffs @puttyly @ginger24880 @night-fall-moon @hypnoticbeing

[turnaboutfix]

Oh yes of course!!!

I meant specifically like her very early concept art (blue haired) and like, one of the first ones where she has short hair (but still with those 2 loose locks at the front)? I hope you know which one I'm talking about lolol

BUT if you wanna speak your thoughts on like. All of them. I want to hear 👂❓️

( @ellivcca asked what I thought about Maya's concept art and I replied in priv if they could be more specific)

Let's talk about Maya's designs! ✨

I will skip the blue-haired art for now, since I have more to say about her other early designs. They're in a few Japanese AA Guidebooks, but "逆転裁判2 真相解明マニュアル", or "Gyakuten Saiban 2: Fact-Finding Manual" has the most in one place. There are blurbs that discuss the designs, and I'll do my best to summarize them. My Japanese isn't amazing and I had to mostly rely on machine translation + cross referencing dictionaries, so it's possible I may be inaccurate. Also, I'm a novice at Japanese culture, so if I'm misrepresenting anything please bring this to my attention and I'll correct things accordingly!

The book acknowledges that Maya was intended to be of high-school age, hence the the sailor suit artwork. They seem to suggest that the loose socks was a hint at Maya's spunky personality.

When they began to explore her as a spirit medium (1), they wanted her to come from a wealthy, noble family. It looks like a lot of these explorations made it to Franziska's design, with some of the shapes of the shoulders and the jabot-looking neck wear, which is interesting!

As they kept exploring in the second round of sketches (2), they stressed traditional/folk dress as being an important part of her design. They noted they had her carrying something on her back at the time, which I think hints more to her "folksy" feel.

The beaded necklace she's wearing in (2) are drawn from Mala bead necklaces, which are prayer beads rooted in Hinduism and Buddhism and are said to help focus the mind during meditation. They seem present in a lot of spiritual figures in Japan.

Later (3), they explicitly comment drawing inspiration from the Matagi, a group of hunting clans in the northern Japanese mountains (be careful looking them up, they do bear hunting and there's a lot of explicit imagery, even on the wikipedia).

They comment on that this version of her early character might be very athletic. She also seems to be more stoic in these explorations.

Then, for (4) and (5), they evolved the design to make it look appear more feminine, giving her long hair, but making a note that her look isn't typical of modern people. The large orbs in (3), (4) and (5) I think are supposed be drawn from "Yuigesa"(結袈裟), or harnesses decorated with pom-poms worn by Shugendō practitioners, hermits who live in the mountains and practice asceticism.

Then in (6), they added the magatama and committed to her having black hair. They note shortening the hem of her costume from design (5).

The magatama addition is pretty significant! Magatama necklaces are used by noro priestesses of the Ryukyu Kingdom from the islands in the very south of Japan.

Their religion broadly speaking, involves ancestor worship and the relationships between the living and dead, gods and spirits. It seems to me like the culture in Kurain Village draws a lot from the Ryukyuan people--and you can even see this with the beads along with the magatamas.

But there seems to be a lot of generic imagery of Spirit Mediums that I've been able to find in Japanese media which have shared elements of design in Maya's final design. The most interesting of these to me is "ほんとにあった!霊媒先生", or "It Really Happened! Spirit Medium Teacher". The design similarities are striking (and make me wonder if Maya was an inspiration?)

So, to summarize it all up, it seems like the early designers (and there were only two! Kumiko Suekane and Tatsuro Iwamoto) wanted a character who was different, folksy, feminine and spunky that displayed unique spiritual power to aid in the narrative/game mechanics of the games, and they explored the different facets of their own culture--from the northern Matagi clans to the southern Ryukyuan people--Japanese iconography, and tastes into Maya's final design.

And I think that's Real Neat. :)

Thoughts about other designs (Blue-Haired/SoJ Maya) under the cut cuz oh my gosh this post is already huge.

Blue haired Maya!

What's interesting to me is that a lot of the design language on this early Maya art seems to have been carried over to Ema's design (glasses, boots, coat/skirt). She also has similar vibes to Lynne from Ghost Trick.

I definitely enjoy Maya's final design a lot better, but I like the triadic color harmony and spunk here!

And then her design update in Spirit of Justice! These concepts are from "逆転裁判6 公式ビジュアルブック", or "Gyakuten Saiban 6: Official Visual Book". :)

Takuro Fuse (the character designer) comments that he never drew Maya before when he took a stab at updating her, so he wanted to get that down first before tackling the designs. He wondered how she would change over the course of 11 years, and first experimented with a design, thinking about how Mia would look like as a spirit medium. He thought it would be interesting if Phoenix wouldn't be able to tell if Maya channeled Mia. (Me too tbh.)

I feel like this design has a bit too much going on, but I do like the longer cream colored sleeves!

Takuro talks more about how he was exploring all sorts of designs before landing on something more simple. He wanted her to have what he called a "traveling costume" and was very fond of the hat. These designs seem to pull from similar places I've discussed with Maya's early designs, as well as Japanese pilgrims.

As fun as the additions and changes to her design are, I think it was very smart to just add subtle changes: the longer robes, jacket, and the additional beads to her necklace. The shawl is a nice touch, too. This reflects how post-7yg Phoenix and Edgeworth also have subtle changes to their designs as well, which I love and I think were very smart moves from a design-perspective as well as personal taste. Their designs are very iconic and I think it was a service to maintain that iconography.

This was a very fun thing to explore! Thank you kindly @ellivcca for the ask!

[smallpwbbles]

She didn’t get that sketch book back

Quick fic for my Biolizard shadow au taking place pre Ark incident, just some nice fluff between Maria and Shadow

Feel free to criticise the fuck outta this, haven’t written a fic since I was like 13, did feel nice to write this though, hopefully I can turn write a longer fic for the au like I said I wanted to do

Maria was beginning to get restless, it had been a long week full of tests, resting, recovering and just a general sense of stagnation. The days were beginning to phase into a repetitive cycle and while she could manage with it, she couldn’t say it wasn’t beginning to get boring.

Her studies were just finishing up, she had once again been bested by her least favourite subject, math. Maria was quite smart for her age, a symptom of being a Robotnik no doubt, however math had such a way with turning her brain to mush. She was sick enough as it was, she didn’t need the subject doing away with her mind too.

Her notebook and sticky notes were packed away in a cute little cubby adorably stuck with a tag with her name on it, next to hers was an empty cubby addressed with the name Shadow, it was unfortunate that with the monstrous hedgehogs seemingly unending growth spurts came the ability to not fit almost anywhere on the Ark, apart for his enclosure of course.

Maria put a hand to the unused cubby, she very much missed studying in the classroom with Shadow, but her grandfather did allow for studies to be taught with Shadow in the enclosure when they were both on best behaviour, the old man may be a stickler but was an absolute softie at heart.

Gerald was erasing the algebra on the blackboard with a content smile, Maria could see he was in quite a good mood today which was especially great as the week of tests wasn’t just unfortunate to her. As Shadow was due for many tests to check on the state of his growth, Gerald and his team spent many weeks trying to get it under control right after Shadow had begun to increase in size rapidly.

The scientists had all done their best but to an ailing Shadow, who had to be okay with needles and diagrams shoved in and around him, he was at best irate and at worst, down right hostile. One of the testing scientists was still recovering in the first aid section of the Ark after a particularly vexed Shadow struck out. He was “grounded” after such an incident, which doesn’t mean much when you’re 35 feet and can kill a person with minimal effort, but it meant Maria couldn’t see him at the moment.

That wasn’t gonna stop her from trying.

“Grandfather! Studies were absolutely wonderful today, I feel maths gets easier and easier each time you teach it to me” Maria lied. Her plan was to butter him up, get him in an even better mood, maybe then he would feel lenient enough to let her stay in the enclosure with Shadow.

“It makes me glad to hear that Maria my dear, maths has always been an essential subject matter in the world of education, why I’ve loved maths ever since I was a young tot, you know I solved my first problem when I was just 3 years old-“ Gerald kept on. Oh no, she got him rambling, maybe she could shoot her shot and just ask outright. The last time he rambled it put her right to sleep on her desk, it hurt his feelings but the second she started hearing percentages her brain shut it down.

“May I see Shadow today!?” She hadn’t meant to blurt it out so outright but she felt the ramble was about to edge towards fractions and decimals and she quite had enough of those today

Gerald’s animated ramblings stopped in an instant and he faced his granddaughter who was doing her best to charm him with her childish adorable appeal

He hummed and hawed for a moment before shaking his head “Now Maria I know you miss Shadow very much but he is in trouble at the moment”

A wave of defensiveness washed over Maria as she recounted Shadow was currently punished due to actions he did in a moment of stress and anger, she felt in the same position she would have struck out or at the very least gave that scientist a good old raspberry, she was still proud she taught Shadow that, Gerald didn’t need to know that though.

“Oh but Grandfather, it’s been more than a week, I’m sure Shadow has learned his lesson” Maria begged.

“He growled at one of our scientists who came for a check up this morning, one he particularly likes mind you” he retorted

“I mean it could be a bit of that teenage rebellion you’re always claiming me to have when I’m not happy to see you in the morning” She countered.

“I-“ Gerald stopped himself and put a finger to his lip, honestly he couldn’t dismiss that. As Shadow continued to grow he picked up more behaviours Gerald could attribute to the traditional development of adolescence. It still had him flabbergasted as he recalled Shadow sticking his tongue right at Gerald one time during studies.

“None the matter, I don’t want you getting hurt in there because of the irritation he’s at right now” Gerald commanded. Maria deflated, this definitely wasn’t going out the way she has planned.

“He would never! Shadow absolutely adores us, he wouldn’t hurt us” Maria argued, she trusted this 100%. Although around most people some could say Shadow could be careless, Maria and Gerald were of a select few that Shadow handled with the upmost care and caution. Maria could just about get away with doing anything around Shadow, if not for her sickness she would most definitely use the gigantic hedgehog as a playground.

At quiet times before lights were out, when allowed she would curl up in Shadows large claws, it amazed her how still and gentle he could be, she felt like a glass doll in his hands as she deducted he was so still in fear of jostling her. It saddened her that Shadow was at such a state he felt even the slightest movements would hurt her.

Gerald put a palm to his head, “I know he wouldn’t hurt you on purpose Maria, but Shadow can forget himself sometimes, need I remind you of Steven, who is in the infirmary because of Shadows actions?” He scolded. Maria didn’t have a retort for that, she could defend shadow as much as she liked but it didn’t change that he had indeed hurt someone.

She looked down to her dress skirt and gripped the fabric of it, she knew better than to act like a brat not getting their way but she was getting irate, one more plea, and if no results she would would back down, lest she get into an argument with her grandfather and end up in trouble herself.

“I’ve just felt absolutely restless. I understand he’s in trouble grandfather but he always behaves around me, I could even go in there and get him to apologise! He’s usually nicer after I give him a good talking to” Maria gripped her skirt harder, she was honest about getting him to apologise, she didn’t want him thinking what he had done to that scientist was okay.

Gerald studied her for a moment before letting out a defeated sign, the softie in him had won, he hated seeing Maria as desperate as she was, and she was not wrong. Maria’s presence seemed to greatly improve Shadows mood the most

“Fine, you can see him” Maria almost jumped up in excitement but steeled herself, it didn’t stop her from looking absolutely giddy “but you are not to rile him up in any way, and if I feel you are in danger you are to come out, understand” Gerald instructed.

Maria gave a silly salute, she couldn’t help it knowing her plan came around “loud and clear!”

——————————————————————

He was clearly pouting when she got to the viewing windows of Shadows enclosure, he was lying on his side and had his back to the large reinforced windows, so nobody could see his face. It was cute to Maria, he always did this getting in trouble.

He was also very still, she actually couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not in that position, a second later when he turned his head slightly to notice her presence confirmed he was indeed awake. Shadow had quite the ability to sense the people around him without anyone else knowing they were there. He glared at her before immediately curling in on himself, she had no idea how someone that big could make themselves look smaller but he was managing quite well.

She put her hands to the window, the glare he just gave her hadn’t put her off, he clearly wasn’t as happy to see her as she thought he would be but that was her gigantic, hedgehog, lizard buddy in need and she hadn’t almost got on her knees and begged to see him for nothing.

3 little taps to the glass, Maria did this just to give him a warning whenever she was coming in, in response Shadow seemed to curl further in on himself, he almost looked like a gigantic spiky ball.

Maria made a small trek down a compact set of Stairs to some steel doors that led into the enclosure, there was a code box right next to the doors that needed an input only Maria, Gerald and some trusted scientists knew. Quickly putting in 4 digits, her birthday as predictably done by her grandfather, Maria bounced in excitement as the doors painstakingly opened.

The chamber was quiet and smelled of lavender, Maria had recommended a calming smell might tide over Shadow to act nicer during testing, while it hadn’t, he still very much enjoyed the smell.

Maria encountered the big ball of black and red quills and scales, he was very much still pouting and didn’t seem to want to acknowledge her. She gave a couple pats to what she could assume was his tail but it was quite hard to tell as curled up as he was.

Shadow gave no response to indicate he felt the pats so she grabbed a few quills and gave a small tug, she didn’t want to tug hard as she’d definitely get cut if he bristled his quills in response, yet he still gave no reaction.

Oh he was really having quite the tantrum today. She put her hands to her hips and gave the giant wall of quills a tired look

“Shadow it’s me! Are you not happy to see me?” Maria yelled up at him.

If he was, he gave no reciprocation. It humbled her quite intensely as it was a first for Shadow to completely ignore her.

She looked down at her shoes and decided if he was gonna be the Debbie of downers she would use other means of entertainment. She pulled out her small sketch pad that conveniently fit in her skirt pockets. It was a great source of distraction when she had nothing to do or nobody to talk to.

She walked over to some worn down chairs that were placed carefully far to one end of the enclosure, they were initially placed there for observation of Shadow but it was an overestimated idea as most scientists didn’t have the nerve to be in the same room as Shadow for more than 5 minutes. Maria abused this section of the enclosure to benefit her creative devices and made Shadow the subject of most of her sketches.

It was about 5 minutes into drawing when she had stopped drawing Shadow as doodling a curled up spiky ball hadn’t been as fun as she thought. She looked up from her sketch pad as Shadow began to unfurl, as he stretched out she heard some of his bones crack back into place, bones cracking was already an unnerving sound to her, hearing it at Shadows size was something entirely else so she couldn’t help the look that came on her face.

Shadow stopped his stretching to study her, he smirked at the unsettled face Maria made as it was quite an amusing expression for her to pull, the smirked made her a little irate considering how rudely he was to ignore her just before.

“I see you got tired of pouting” Maria huffed, Shadow simply stuck her tongue at her, she gasped in shock and stook up immediately, absolutely aghast he would use such a move on her of all people, she kind of wish she hadn’t taught him that now.

“That’s absolutely- why I never- you are such a rude-“ she couldn’t make up her mind what to say in response. Shadow sat on his hind legs and looked at her in amusement, to anyone who could have been outside the enclosure, the sight of a young blond girl yelling and scolding the near 40 foot giant beast was bewildering.

“It’s no wonder grandfather didn’t want me to see you, with you acting like such a brat I have half a mind to walk out of here, are you even sorry for what you did?!” Maria furiously turned her back to him and folded her arms, if she looked back she would have seen Shadow flinch at the question. “The scientists are doing the best to help you and you had someone sent into first aid!” She grumbled.

Maria heard some loud shuffling then the room shook for a moment, she steadied herself and looked back to see Shadow had repositioned himself with his back to her. She didn’t know why the sight infuriated her more but it just seemed like he wanted to be insanely difficult today.

She began to march over to him, about to give him a peace of her mind. However when she traversed enough to get a even look at what she assumed would be a unremorseful smug smirk, she was met with a regretful furrowed brow, his red crimson irises met her blue azure ones and he instantly looked away and brought his arms up to hold himself. He wouldn’t look back at her.

Maria began to calm herself, one look at him told her what she knew, of course he felt bad for what he did. She wanted to give herself a right slap for forgetting herself, he obviously found it hard to talk about what happened, she shouldn’t have expected him to be right and ready to talk as soon as she walked through those doors.

She slowly came closer and put a hand to his ankle, that was as much as she could reach at his current sat up stance. He dared a glance down at her tiny form and again looked away, she could feel the giant begin to tremble, she then heard as an unmistakable voice rasped out “…didn’t mean to”.

His voice rumbled throughout her body as her heart wrenched at that statement. She believed it without question, he was gentle and caring, she was tired after the week long tests. Maria could only imagine what it was like for him after being poked and prodded for hours on end.

“I know” she comforted. She really did wish he was at least a little smaller, it was really hard to comfort someone who has a hand as big as your entire body.

She could attempt to climb up his leg but she really didn’t want to risk getting Gerald upset with her if she was to exacerbate her already strained lungs. She motioned at shadow with her hand and got his attention “Shadow your hand please” she gently commanded

He knew what she was asking and took a hand off his person to reach her, only seeing his claws near her had him stop for a moment which Maria noticed. “You would never hurt me” she assured. He gently scooped her up and cupped his other hand to the one holding her.

Shadow brought up a safely secured Maria up to his face in which she at once assaulted him with a full face hug, it surprised him for a moment but he instantly melted into it. She did this when she knew he was even a bit upset. He did find the gesture embarrassing but appreciated it all the same.

Maria nuzzled into his muzzle harder, she’d be finding fur in her dress for ages but she didn’t mind, the priority was Shadow. She was glad he was remorseful, it would have been alarming if she had to explain why it’s wrong to send someone into the infirmary but Shadow seemed to grasp the consequences of the event that transpired.

“You are going to apologise once Steven is out of the infirmary aren’t you?” She left his muzzle alone finally and looked up at him, he seemed embarrassed at such a request but knew he couldn’t argue with something that was the least he could do. He nodded firmly and hoped it would be enough to satisfy Maria.

It definitely was as she once again came full force with a hug to his muzzle, he did wish he could return such a gesture properly but he’d definitely crush the poor girl with such a return, instead he just leaned his face into her arms, she was such a tiny thing to him but the action warmed his heart so immensely he’d almost forgotten why he was mad in the first place.

Maria plopped back into his palm, content with her job as “the Shadow whisperer”, as she had oddly dubbed herself in her mind. She wished she could converse with him about all the events that transpired while he had been “grounded” but it mostly included tests which was the furthest thing she was sure both of them wanted to talk about. In that moment she remembered the little notepad she was doodling in earlier.

Shadow watched as she fought to relieve her pocket of the sketch pad and as she flicked through a few pages of quite nice and detailed drawings of him and a few familiar faces he’d seen on the Ark, his interested peaked as he watched her turn to her recent pages and she chortled, Maria shakily stood up on Shadows surprisingly soft palm and held the sketch pad to Shadow, who’s interested promptly died when he saw a drawing of a spiky ball which had been nicely detailed with an annotate to tell whoever was reading the ball was a “grumpy pouty shadow”.

Maria watched Shadows face fall flat and couldn’t help that roar of laughter that immediately escaped her, this only continued to irritate the humongous hedgehog. He brought over his other hand that didn’t have a laughing Maria in it and swiftly brought it over his palm, Maria yelled out a panicked “NO WAIT-“ as he did so. He didn’t hurt her, he just gave her a quick squish to shut her up. That seemed to do the job as he opened his palms to a silence Maria who had her hair adorably scruffy from the attack “I hate it when you do that, I totally deserved it though” she concluded

He snickered at that and she gave him a quick punch to his pinkie finger

——————————————————————

Maria had lost track of the time she had been in the enclosure after 2 hours. She wasn’t worried she’d been in too long as her Grandfather had cameras in the chamber and would have called her out if he wanted her out.

She had returned to her drawings while she was cradled in Shadows palms. She was absolutely engrossed in her current drawing and hadn’t noticed Shadow wasn’t giving input or feedback on her drawings anymore.

The palm she was in suddenly jerked and she had to grab one of his fingers to keep from losing balance, her sketch pad had fallen to the ground when the motion happened. She looked up when she was steadied and saw Shadow, he seemed to have not noticed what he had done. Honestly he seemed quite out of it, she quickly realised the poor thing was fighting sleep and must have accidentally jerked back to being half awake.

“Shadow” Maria called, his eyes opened fully to address her but immediately went back to being half lidded. “Are you tired? I can leave so you can get some rest” she offered.

He stubbornly shook his head and cupped his other hand under her, normally he would have let her go off when she wanted and went back to doing as he did alone in the enclosure but she was sure it was his sleepy brain not wanting her to leave and he was acting upon that.

“Alright alright, don’t have a fuss I’m not going anywhere, even if I could” he had brought his hand close enough that she could reach a particular spot under his muzzle, she gave it a few scritches and had to steel herself when he began purring, it was an intense and loud sound that she feel sending waves through her entire body but she bared it.

He leaned into it, and began to literally lean his entire body’s forward when the feeling of the scratches began to calm his already tired mind, Maria had to stop and immediately grabbed onto anything she could, which was his ring finger as Shadow fell forward, the enclosure shook from the weight of him falling and Maria waited for the vibrations to die down, she hoped her grandfather was not watching the cameras at that moment as she could of accidentally been hurt, she could hear and feel the vibrations of Shadows quiet snores as it confirmed he has simply fallen asleep.

She hopped off his palm to trek to his face, give him a quick hug. Her mission was to now find her sketch pad, that last drawing she was engrossed with had come along really well and she wanted to show her grandfather how her art skills were coming out. Her face turned grief stricken when she realised her sketch pad had fallen where Shadow lay asleep right now, if he rolled over which she knew he was guaranteed to do, it was completely over for that drawing as well as her entire sketch pad.

Maria inhaled and then exhaled. The stories of the superheroes her grandfather read to her had to go through sacrifice, and right now as the shadow whisperer, she could definitely say she was going through sacrifice right now.

[ms0milk]

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WIPS

sparks x fly | bkg x winged!reader

recent graduate and new rookie agency owner, Dynamight, is anxious to get into the field and bloody new gear, but a moving-day collision with some shitty winged civilian turns into his own feathery nightmare when she shows up at an established agency– as their new chart-topping rookie no less. fist fights, shoujo manga, bathroom surgery, hawks as your terrible boss, hyperhidrosis, wings are kind of a hassle, fire escapes, hearing aids, drunken rescues, feather care, a hero ball, and secrets kept under oath of death. (rivals > lovers)

cw varies by chapter, in general: violence/injuries, inevitable smut, kats has mellowed out some but isn't a peach, reader has dapple brown wings but is otherwise not described in detail. i love personality hire x grouch w too much in common

3,100/30,000 words sponsored !

a simple show of treason | sanemi x reader

sanemi's tsuguko no more, your hashira promotion is just over the horizon! one more untimely death and you'll have the job security you've longed for. nightmares, injuries and lost time, a lost life safe at home, unrequited love– soon it'll all be worth it. your mentor doesn't share your optimism however, and you find him near at all hours of the day. no more or less moody than usual but overbearing and always on the precipice of saying something.

cw nsfw, mdni. part three of my sanemi/tsuguko series, ie the smut™. long-waited confessions, starving love. reader w vagina, teasing, banter, penetration, oral (reader receiving), clingy nems.

700/6,000 words sponsored !

we're so bad at our jobs | mechanic!choso x writer!reader

writing is a famously lucrative career field, it's why you're only $30 short for the oil change that cost $35. the quiet mechanic shrugs at your short change and tells you not to worry– not that you hear him. not when he shakes his hair out of its messy bun and wipes at the grease on his cheek with the back of a big fist. you find yourself at the car shop a lot suddenly, never stopping once to think why a mechanic would be so blood-spattered.

cw nsfw, mdni. down bad reader, deer in headlights choso. car sex, reader w vagina, penetration, fingering, oral (giving/receiving), moisture on all conceivable surfaces. i just think choso is weak for strong-willed women.

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Hymn to Black Water: Annexes | prince!bkg x royal gaurd!reader

what happens after Takoba? What do Aldera and the world have in store for our royal captain and her prince? dragon nests, oaths, a promotion of sorts, and the need to always be near.

cw: varies by chapter, in general: violence/injuries, periodic smut, two idiots in love & situations. a continuation of Hymn to Black Water (+80k) which is coming to a close soon (hardly acquainted > begrudging teammates > enemies > bewildered friends > lovers > soulmates)

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in general, $1=100 words

nsfw alphabets $10 (these are roughly 20~30k)

the rest is up to you! get creative my loves >:)

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chain boarders by the inimitable @cafekitsune !!

[s0ulm8s]

irrational fears & sweet confessions — nanami kento x reader

ೃ⁀➷ genre : fluff, comfort

*ೃ༄ words: 2k

⋆.ೃ࿔* warnings & a/n : fluff/comfort, reader is sacred of storms, age gap (nanami is a trainer, reader is of course of age), considering a pt. 2 (smut) for this as well so lmk !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ read more works here ➼ masterlist

a loud crack of thunder and a following flash of lighting had you jumping into an upright position in your bed. this one wasn't the one that had woken you up, no, you'd been up for at least two hours now. as the storm outside raged on you were convincing yourself that it was progressively getting worse and worse and soon, the jujutsu tech building would be whipped away — with you inside.

it was irrational and you knew that, but you still couldn't help the way your hands trembled and heart pounded in your chest. another loud rumble of thunder sounded and you swore the glass in your windows shook.

fuck this you thought to yourself, swinging the blankets off of your legs. you grab the novel you were working on and exit your dorm. there was no way you were falling back to sleep, especially with the constant reminder of the menacing weather outside your windows.

you quickly pad your way down the hallway, not bothering to change out of your sleep shorts and the oversized sweater that had somehow found it's way into your laundry. no one ever claimed the garment, and it was warm and it's smell was comforting — oddly familiar even.

you kept it. finders keepers, right?

you find your way into the small kitchen, searching the cabinets for something that might distract you and calm your erratic nerves. you finally land on a box of herbal tea that hasn't been touched. perfect.

as you pull the box down a small piece of paper falls to the counter in front of you.

to help you all sleep.

— nanami

the note is simple and to the point, just like kento. your cheeks burn a bit at the thought of him, and you find yourself wishing he was with you. despite how shy he made you, his presence was exceptionally comforting. during your time as a sorcerer, you had been paired to train with him a lot. your personalities complemented each other flawlessly, and as much as you adored gojo-sensei and his antics, you had to admit nanami was your favorite.

you turn the box and read that it's a specific mix meant to aid in sleep and audibly rejoice as you make yourself a cup. as quiet as possible, you slide the doors open to the small common area in the center of the building. no windows here, only the faint rumble of the downpour and thunder outside.

you find yourself cozying into the corner of the large couch, sipping on your tea and opening your book to read. not ten minutes later you hear footsteps outside and you wonder who it might be.

megumi typically enjoyed storms, and on nights where you'd pad into his room for comfort he'd be dead asleep. you thought the pounding of the rain might be comforting to him and frankly you were jealous.

nobara and yuji could also sleep through just about anything. maki wouldn't bother to leave her room even if she was awake. panda was probably still up with inumaki playing video game regardless. perhaps it was yuta? he'd returned recently from a long mission, you figured he'd be exhausted but the possibility still remained.

kento had heard your trip to the kitchen and the common room long before, he too had been kept up by the storm. he could tell it was you as soon as you stepped out of you dorm. and despite knowing he should probably leave you be, he couldn't stop his body from pulling him out of the spare bed and following your energy.

as the door slid open, you were shocked to see nanami's tall frame step inside. his blonde hair was a bit disheveled and he was dressed so casually — a black t-shirt and sweats and you immediately grew a bit flustered at the sight.

"oh, sensei! i didn't know you were still at the school.. s-sorry was i loud?" you asked, setting your book down on the small table in front of you.

kento steps further into the room, sucking in a sharp breath as he sees the brown sweater with abstract patterns swallowing you whole. how had it somehow fallen into your possession? he gulped at the sight.

oh, he was going to hell.

"the storm hindered me from heading back to my place in the city," nanami explains, "but don't worry the storm was keeping me awake... what are you doing out here? don't tell me you're drinking coffee in the middle of the night." his voice is low, and kind. his tone always shifted a bit when he spoke to you, but you never noticed. or at least you told yourself it was all in your head.

you giggle softly, and kento thinks he might swoon at the sound. your gaze is sleepy and sweet as you urge him to join you on the sofa with a nod of your head. "definitely not, i'm drinking the herbal tea you bought.. thank you, by the way." you inform him as he saunters over, sitting down a good foot away.

"oh, you found it.. i recall you mentioning you didn't sleep much on a mission together — nightmares from the curses you intake, right?" kento asks, getting comfortable as you look up at him with big eyes. he hesitates for a moment, his sleep deprived state was making him too talkative.

you blush, before your gaze turns into a genuine smile full of gratitude. you can't believe he remembered that from over a month ago, and the realization that the tea was for you made your stomach do flips.

"y-yes, thank you, sensei. that's.. very thoughtful of you." you say quietly, he can see the blush on your face even in the dim light. he decides then and there that you are so beautiful, and right now you are no longer his pupil and he your mentor — it's just you and him. jujutsu sorcery be damned. at least for tonight.

"it's just us, please call me kento.. plus you know i hate sensei." kento corrects, actually letting out a deep chuckle and you relish at the foreign sound. "was that it? more nightmares?"

you blush and grow a bit sheepish before answering, "uhm, actually the storm. i've alway been quite frightened by them… i had to get out of my room." you admit, scratching your neck bashfully and kento momentarily looks taken aback.

"jujutsu tech's newest special grade sorcerer is afraid of storms?" is his next question. it isn't teasing or even sarcastic. his voice is laced in curiosity, and perhaps even concern.

you laugh to yourself, "i know it' stupid," you begin and before you can even explain yourself kento is cutting in.

"no - no it isn't.. guess i just wasn't really expecting it. you're allowed to have fears.. even if they seem irrational, and even if you're considered the strongest." kento drawls, body leaning onto the couch as he rests his long arm on the back of it. he subtly scoots a bit closer, and his hand is almost grazing your shoulder. "you are human after all."

you hum at his explanation and feel exceptionally comforted by his words and his presence. and maybe it's your sleepy state, or the atmosphere that surrounds the two of you but you suddenly gain bit of confidence.

"you know," you start, completely turning your body to face him as you pull your legs all the way up on the couch and cross them. your knees barely rest atop his thigh and your exposed skin burns at the contact. "earlier i was actually wishing you were here."

he turns to look into your eyes at that admission, and you think maybe now you've made the older man blush. though his responses sounds collected, his heart is pounding wildly. "really? why is that?"

you giggle, "you're just.. comforting to be around, kento. you found me and after all of ten minutes i've stopped thinking about the storm outside." you tell him, and his head tilts at your words. did you truly take that much pleasure in his presence? "i like our conversations and the moments i get to spend with you, 's all."

he sucks in a short breath as his name rolls off of your tongue with fondness and ease. he doesn't think anyone has ever said it so sweetly. it’s precious. romantic, even.

he hums, "i suppose i'm quite lucky i got stuck here then." he's looking into your eyes now, and chooses to test his limits. even if from an outside perspective it might seem wrong, as he lays a comforting hand on your exposed thigh — he think nothing has ever felt more right.

you're suddenly nervous for a different reason as butterflies swirl in your stomach. his large hands swallows almost the entire expanse of your thigh. you play it off well. like this is a normal, everyday occurrence.

"where'd you get this sweater?" kento asks next, changing the subject as his hand on the couch grabs the fabric on your shoulder and tugs slightly.

"oh - well - to be honest i don't really know, i found it in my laundry one weekend. i tried to find the owner but no one ever claimed it.. plus it's cozy to sleep in and it smells -" you speak, pulling the material up to your nose as the fading smell comes rushing back to you. now you know why it's so familiar. you look up at kento and now you are blushing wildly, completely flustered and you think a small smirk is growing on his face. you realize now he's teasing you. nanami kento is teasing you. "oh."

kento laughs now as you immediately begin to stand, "i'm sorry, kento.. i'll go change now and return it to you!" you muster, but before you can get too far his hand is catching your much smaller one and pulling you back down. you’re suddenly much closer, completely invading the other ones space.

"no, no.. you keep it. i think it looks better on you than it did me, anyways." he admits, and you giggle now leaning completely into his open side and hiding your face into his chest.

"ugh! the teasing is meant to be gojo-sensei’s thing, kento! not yours!" you exclaim, voice muffled as you feel his chest rumble in deep laughter. his arm that was laid on the back of the couch wraps around your back and his other free hand pets your head.

"i'm sorry, love.. i couldn't help myself." his fingers card lazily through you hair and now you look up at him. completely aware of your position now — legs draped over his lap and body tucked into his side as he holds you close.

your big eyes meet his and his smile is dropping slowly. the next events seem to play out in slow motions. his hand in your hair moves to trace your jaw, then your cheekbone, trailing slowly down the bridge of you nose before he cups you face, reaching a thumb out to delicately brush your bottom lip.

your hand splays across his chest and you breath heavily, fingers nervously tracing small patterns as you two hesitate briefly — sinking into the tension surrounding you.

"can i kiss you, angel?" he asks, voice almost completely hushed and gravelly. your stomach turns at the pet name. "would that be okay?"

you are instantly nodding, breathing out a low yes and he leans down the minute he has permission — instantly connecting your lips in a sweet kiss.

you kiss him back with fervor, both of your repressed feelings come rushing to the surface as your mouths move together in what you can only describe as harmony.

his lips are soft and pillowy, which isn’t entirely what you expected. and everything feels seamless, like he can predict what you do before you even do it. which way your head will turn. when you’ll take another breath. you’ve never had anyone kiss you like this, and it leaves you breathless.

it's ending way too soon, and your chasing after his lips as he chuckles at you. hands stroking your body lovingly as he rests his forehead atop yours, trying to catch his breath.

he grabs the hand on you have laid on his chest, trying to find the words to say. you beat him to it.

“i've waited so long for that."

he smiles down at you and nods in agreement, leaning down to peck your lips again. both of you are in awe, lovestruck and not sure what to do next.

then your giggling, nuzzling into him bashfully, "will you stay with me tonight, kento?" you ask and he hum instantly in agreement, grinning at your bashful state.

storms be damned when you’re wrapped up completely in him.

[lulubelle814]

One for the Ages

Loki looked on as Astri danced with Fandral and it made his chest burn with rage.  He knew he had no right to feel as such, but jealousy was a caddy bitch.

They’d met as children.  Astri was the daughter to one of Frigga’s servants, Marta.  Although servants were usually treated poorly, Frigga took as much care for her servants as they did of her, often becoming friends.  When her mother went to work one day, Astri followed in the shadows, curious as to what Frigga was like as she’d heard so many great things about the queen.

As she was skulking through the gardens towards her goal, she suddenly tripped, falling on her face.  Looking around, only one person could be spotted: a young boy about her age, tall, pale, and laughing.  Now?  Now he was standing over her.  “What do you think you’re doing in the royal gardens?  Who are you?”

Before she could answer, a voice came from not far away, one she recognized.  “Astri!  What are you doing here?  You’re supposed to be at home.”  Astri sighed.  “You’ve said so many wonderful things about the queen.  I was hoping to just get a glance for myself.”

Loki looked on as Marta gave her daughter a stern look.  “Young lady, you march yourself right back home before anyone else catches you.”

“That’s quite alright, Marta.  She’s welcome to stay.”  Astri looked to see where the voice came only to see a beautiful woman in a flowing blue dress with long golden hair in a beautiful series of braids.  She turned to her own son.  “Loki, have you been up to your tricks again?”

Before he could speak, Astri interjected.  “No, your majesty.  I tripped, and he was coming to help me up.”  Loki was impressed with her lie, especially with how quickly she spoke and how believable it sounded.  “She’s correct, mother.  I was coming to her aid.”

Frigga knew better but could see the sparks of friendship already starting between the two, and Loki needed his own friends.  She’d tried to encourage Thor to have him and his friends include Loki, but it never worked out well, with his friends typically picking on the young dark haired prince.  Perhaps this was the better solution, and she found herself proved correct many times over the years.

Loki and Astri became inseparable, causing mischief together; however, Astri managed to keep him from anything too dangerous most of the time.  In return, Loki taught her bits of magic.  She didn’t have the skill for this, but she was able to learn how to create illusions of stars and flowers, and for that she was very happy.

While Loki grew to be a great sorcerer, Astri grew to be both beautiful and compassionate.  As she was not royalty nor a goddess, there was not much she was allowed to do; however, Frigga employed her to help with the gardens, teaching Astri all she knew, the only person Frigga ever shared her gardening secrets with, even using her patience to teach Astri a little magic to help with flowers, plants, and other things growing on the palace grounds.  In the evenings, Loki taught her about the stars and constellations when they were laying on the grass in the gardens and gazing at the night sky.

As they grew up together, Loki found he’d developed feelings for his friend.  He never mentioned it to her.  Their friendship meant too much to him to tempt the fates and ruin things.  If he only knew his friend had also developed feelings along with the same fear.  So each kept their thoughts about the subject to themselves.

Well, until that night that is.

Watching the famously flirty Fandral dance with his Astri, jealousy raged in his heart hearing her laugh at something Fandral said.  “Absolutely not,” he mumbled to himself.  “This will not do.”  

Astri was having a grand time.  She’d received a special invitation from Frigga herself, and her mother helped her make a nice dress so that she may attend.  It was the first time in her life that she felt like a princess, that for one night she could dance with everyone else and feel like she belonged in the palace.

“I’m a bit parched.  If you’ll pardon me, I need to get something to drink.”  She smiled and left for the refreshment table for some lemonade while Fandral made his way out of the ballroom for a moment in search of something.  This is when Loki saw an opportunity and used his magic to transform himself to look like Fandral.  ‘I’ll probably regret this, but I can’t let Fandral keep her all to himself,’ he thought and approached his dear friend.

“Fandral!  That was quick.”  She smiled at the fake Fandral.  Fandral Loki smiled.  Astri continued.  “You are quite the dancer.”

“I could say the same of you, darling Astri.”  Fandral Loki kept up the fake smile.  “Come, let us dance some more.”  He gently took her arm and escorted her out to the dance floor.

“I thought you were going to dance with….”  He cut her off.  “I’d much rather dance with you.  Besides, she’s boring and not nearly as pretty as you.”  He pulled her a bit closer as the music slowed down.

“Fandral, we’ve talked about this before.  You’re very nice, but I just want to be friends.”  She was confused by the change in his attitude.

“Come, darling.  That’s not fair.  I know you feel the same.”  He looked down at her, trying to keep his composure and brushed his fingers down her hair.

Astri tried to gently push him away.  “Please, stop.”

“I don’t think so, dear.  You know you want this.”  Without any further thought, she slapped him.  The sound of it could be heard all across the ballroom.  “I asked you to stop.”

Fake Fandral looked stunned for a second, grabbing his cheek that’s now bright red from the force of the slap. Yet he kept his eyes on her.  “Owww! My dear sweet darling, do you know how much that hurt?  That was very unnecessary.”

He could see the fury igniting in her eyes.  “I think that was very necessary.  When a lady says no, you stop.  What’s gotten into you?”

Fake Fandral saw the true Fandral coming their way and started to panic.  “We were merely dancing.”  She scoffed at his response.  “That was accosting me.”  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a second Fandral, making her realize what was going on.

“Loki!  You ass!”

He dropped the illusion and gave his ‘you caught me’ grin.  “I thought you’d catch on much sooner.”

Astri was fuming.  “I ought to slap you again.”

“I know you won’t though.”  

Before he could flinch, she slapped him again.  Loki groaned, rubbing his cheek.  “Are you trying to make my face as red as a tomato?”  He spoke with fake dramatics, rubbing his face. 

“You were a complete jerk and had it coming.  Don’t deny it.”  Her accusations hurt but were true.  “Why?  Why would you act like that?”

Loki noticed more and more people beginning to stare at them.  “Let's go somewhere private, somewhere without an audience.”  He reached out for her arm to which she pulled back and crossed her arms, continuing to look at him with a look that could turn him to stone.

“Give me one good reason I should go with you and not just slap you again.”  Her face was turning red from all the anger she felt in that moment.

He held his hands out in front of him as a sign of surrender.  “Because I will explain why I disguised myself.  Please?”  He implored, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible so people don’t overhear.  “I’m sorry I’ve acted like a child.  I promise to explain if you come with me.  Please.”

“Fine, but I’ll only give you 1 minute to explain yourself.”  Loki seized his chance and led her to an empty hallway, far from listening ears.  Astri kept her distance when he stopped and turned to explain, taking a breath.  “I just….Seeing you dance with Fandral, seeing him with his hands on you…..I became jealous.  I was rash.”  For once, he spoke truthfully.  There was more, and he was trying to gather his courage to tell her how he felt. 

“I have to confess.  I cannot hold it in any longer.”  Taking a deep breath, he continued.  “I love you.  I’m in love with you and have been for a very long time.  I want to be the one to dance with you, to hold you.”

The shock of it was evident on her face.  “Please, I beg you to tell me you feel the same.  If you do not, we will never speak of this again.”

“Loki…..you’re to be betrothed to a princess or a goddess!”  She tried to protest.

“I don’t give a damn about them.”

“But you don't get to do that. You have obligations. And me? I have to....”

“Have to what?”  Confusion covered his face.

“I don't know! That's just it. I don't get too much of a choice, do I? I have to hope that whoever I marry is kind and decent while you get to flounce around with princesses. I'm barely allowed to come to this ball.”  Even though he’d confessed his feelings, she was still afraid to confess hers.

His heart started to break, hating the sound of so-called obligations, the separate natural paths their lives would take.  “I don’t want those harpies.  All they want is the title and social standing.  No, darling.  You’re the one I want, the only one I want.”

Astri stepped closer, not realizing it.  “That’s not how this world works.”

“I don’t give a DAMN about how this world works.  I would tear it down brick by brick if it meant you would be mine.”

She was stunned.  “What?”  In one last act of bravery, he took a step forward and gently held her hands in his.  “I want you to be mine.  I want you to be my wife, the one I hold, the one I dance with, the one I kiss.”

Astri gazed into his eyes and could not see any hint of lies or mischief.  “Y…..you do?”

Loki gazed back into her eyes, full of hope.  “Yes, I do.  You……you’re the love of my life, the one I want to laugh and cry with, the one I want to have children with, the one I want to live with until we are old and nothing more than skin and bones.”

“I…….Loki……I…..” She couldn’t seem to string words together.  

“I love you.  I always have.  Since we were children, when I caught you in the garden and you covered for me, lying to my mother.  I love you, all of you.  And I want nothing more than to be yours, and for you to be mine.”

Words continued to fail her, but he could see the emotions stirring in her eyes.  “Please, say you’ll be mine.”  

The most she could manage was a nod, and his heart burst with joy.  He closed the gap between them, cupping her face in his hands.  “May I?”  All she could do was nod yet again.  With that, he gently placed his lips against hers, giving her a sweet and tender kiss to which she reciprocated.  

She pulled away for a moment, finally finding the words to speak.  “I’ve loved you for a very long time.”

Loki gently stroked his fingers against her cheek.  “You are and always have been the best part of my life.”  He could see her hesitance rising, and her words confirmed it.  “Odin would never allow this.”

“I don’t give a damn about what Odin would allow.  I will not let him dictate our lives.  You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

Smiling softly, she stunned him.  “Loki, it’s always been you.”  His jaw dropped.  “Who do you think I was talking to him about?  Who he was talking to me about?  I was giving him advice about this lady he was interested in, and he did the same with me…..about you…..”

Loki felt completely stupid.  “For months now, I’ve been going mad thinking you were flirting with the foolish blonde every time you were near him, all this time… you were talking about me?”  Astri giggled and nodded, relief flooding her that she could finally tell him.

However, there was a big question looming over them.  “What do we do now?”  There was no way to really avoid answering that question, but Loki had a response.  She listened intently.  

“We could hide this.  We could skulk around and keep this just to ourselves, or….”

“Or?”

“Or we tell Odin.”  Loki knew which one he wanted, but he’d do whatever she wanted if it meant they could be together.

Astri knew without a doubt what she wanted, or perhaps what she didn’t want.  “I don’t want to be anyone’s secret.”  There was nothing but relief felt in his chest.  “Then let us go find Odin.”

She was shocked.  “Now?”

He was determined.  “Yes, now.  I don’t want to wait longer than necessary to make you my wife.”  Those words made her heart flutter.  Taking her hand in his, they went in search of his father, catching him as he entered his chambers, his father’s hand on the ornate handle of the door.

“Father, I must speak with you.”

Odin turned, not happy about being prevented from getting rest at this moment.  “Can this not wait until the morn?”

Standing his ground, Loki wasn’t giving up.  He didn’t want to wait until the morning.  “No, this cannot wait.”

“This had better be important.”  He invited Loki into the study of his chambers so that he could sit down as he was very tired.  Loki and Astri sat on the small sofa while Odin sat in his favorite, overstuffed chair, the complete opposite of the hard, uncomfortable throne.  “Speak.”

Astri remained silent, both afraid of being in the king's presence but also embarrassed that they caught him as he was trying to go to bed.  Thankfully Loki had the skills and words to speak.  “Father, you’ve heard me talk of Astri, the beautiful lady sitting with me who has been my faithful friend and companion since we were small.”  Odin frowned, not happy with where this was going; however, Loki continued.

“As time has passed our friendship has deepened into something greater, and I have fallen deeply in love with her, as she has fallen in love with me. We’ve come to ask for your blessing and permission to enter a courtship with each other, to get married.”

An audible groan could be heard from Odin followed by a scoff as he gestured to her.  “You want to marry her, this girl?  This servant?  With my blessing?”  He glared at the two of them.

Anger filled him, hearing the tone with which Odin spoke of his beloved.  Before he could retort, the venom read to fly from his mouth, Astri found her voice.  “Yes, sir.  Please.”

There was nothing but silence for a moment.  Both Loki and Astri sat with baited breath, waiting for his response before Odin spoke, his voice ringing through the study.

“I will allow this and give you my blessing,” he said, “on one condition.”

Astri exercised patience and understanding she learned by observing Frigga over the years.  “What might that condition be, your majesty?”  

Odin stood and walked over to his shelves of books, pulling out a burnt wooden box and bringing it back to his seat.  Loki could feel the malice coming from the box, moreso as it came closer to them.  “Your so-called ‘beloved’ must succeed in a simple trial.”  He opened the box, displaying a simple necklace with a red, almost black gem hanging from it.  “She is to wear this necklace and survive the curse it bears.”

There was no difficulty discerning that the object was cursed.  “What will afflict her once that damned necklace is on her neck?”

Odin gave a small smile.  “This necklace was procured long before I was born.  Upon it lays a curse that whomever wears it shall feel all the sorrows of this realm.”

Astri spoke before Loki could say anything.  “How long will this trial be?”  Odin addressed her.  “You are to wear this until the next full moon.”  Thinking quickly, she recalled the last full moon was only a day ago, meaning she would have to wear the accursed object for 30 days.

Loki felt his stomach twist.  While the trial itself was technically simple, it was also massively difficult.  “You cannot be serious.”  Astri placed a hand on his thigh as a gesture to hush before she spoke again.  “I accept this trial.”  Before he could protest, she took the necklace out of the box and placed it around her neck, feeling the effects the moment the clasp clicked shut.

Loki watched as she put the necklace on, his heart sinking and chest tightening from seeing her place it on as the curse took effect.  He gently stroked your cheek with his thumb, smiling softly, trying to help her keep calm.  “It’s okay, Loki.  I’m okay.”

There was one last piece of information from Odin.  “I warn you, do not attempt to remove the necklace.  For whomever does so without my permission will bear a much worse fate.”

Loki pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face into the crook of her neck. Tears of sorrow and worry built up, knowing she would suffer  from the necklace and also the pain of knowing that his father wouldn’t just allow them to be together.”

Astri stood and bowed to him.  “Thank you, All Father.”

“It’s settled then. You two can have my blessing and be allowed a courtship.”  Odin looked upon Loki, his eyes cold and unforgiving.  “Now go, and let me dress in peace.”

Astri took Loki’s hand and led him out of his father’s chambers before he could protest.  “Let’s go.  We’ve made our request, and he’s agreed.”  Suddenly, she stumbled as she felt her energy begin to drain.  Catching her before she fell, Loki picked her up and carried her to his chambers.  He took her directly into his room and placed her on his bed.  “If you are to suffer this trial, you will not do so alone.”  She attempted to protest, but he wouldn’t hear of it.  “No, I will not leave your side, not even for a moment.”

“My mother, she’ll worry when I do not return home.”  His heart softened that she was more worried about her mother than for herself.

“Do not worry, my love.  I will write to her about what's happened and that I shall take care of you.”

While Loki consoled her, Frigga stormed into her shared chambers with Odin, having felt the curse of what happened and seeing in her mind’s eye what caused it.  “How DARE you put her through such a trial!  The audacity!”

Her anger did not affect Odin.  “Calm down, my dear.  She is not worthy of Loki, to become a princess.”

“NOT WORTHY?  She’s more worthy on her worst day than you are on your best.”

Odin remained calm.  Only his wife was allowed to talk to him in such a manner, and only in private.  “Loki is a prince.  You know as well as I that according to law, he can only marry someone of status, whether that’s a prince, princess, god, or goddess.  This is the only acceptable solution to that law.  She must prove herself.”

If looks could kill, Odin would be a pile of ash at this very moment.  “If she does not survive your ridiculous trial, I will force you to wear that necklace myself.”  Before he could respond, she stormed out, slamming the door shut behind her and went directly to Loki’s chambers, knowing that’s exactly where he would take her.  She’d waited so long for them to realize their love, and she’d be damned if she stood by and did nothing while the poor girl suffered.

When Loki heard a knock on his door, he ignored it until the door opened itself to reveal his mother.  “I just spoke with Odin about what happened.”

“Mother…” Astri placed a hand on his arm.  “Your majesty.  I know Odin must have his reasons, but I will endure this trial.  Loki is worth this and much, much more.”

This touched Frigga who had to hold back tears.  She moved to sit by Astri and held her hands.  “You are stronger than any warrier I’ve known.  The path you’ve chosen is one of the most difficult, but I have no doubt you will survive.  It will be extremely difficult, but I see the strength you have.”  She used her free hand to grasp Loki’s.  “You will get through this together.  There is not much I can do; however, I relieve you of all your palace duties and obligations until this trial is over.  You will need all your strength.  You will stay here with us, and I will inform your mother directly about this.  Should you wish it and should Loki allow it, she is welcome to come visit you whenever she wants and whenever you need her.”

There was nothing more heartwarming than the love of a mother.  “Thank you, All Mother.  I want her to know that I will not be home for a while, but I do not want her to have to bear this burden as well.”

Frigga nodded.  “If that’s what you wish, I will tell her I’ve sent you to Vanaheim to study under the caretaker of their gardens and to help share the skills you’ve learned.  And I will ensure only the most discrete servants tend to you and Loki throughout this.  They will have to face me should they speak of this.”

Astri tried to hold back a yawn, not wanting to be impertinent in front of the queen.  “Don’t worry about decorum, my dear.  You are going through an exhausting trial that will take much from you.”  She smiled at who she now considered a daughter before taking her leave.  Loki turned his full attention back to his beloved.  “Rest now, darling.  I can see this is already weighing on you.  I will be right by your side.”

Each day when she woke up, she felt less and less like herself as the cursed necklace affected her more and more, draining her energy and happiness.  Dark circles appeared under her eyes, and she slowly lost her appetite.  Loki became increasingly worried, watching the curse take a greater hold over Astri. Loki worries and wants to help, but there’s not much he can do as he watches the dark magic slowly consume her.  “How are you feeling today, darling?”

Astri gave a low hum in response.  Although she did not do much, she felt exhausted, depressed.

His heart breaks seeing her in such a state, seeing how broken and hollow she feels and the almost vacant look in her eyes. He gently pulls her close, stroking her cheek.  “My love, what can I do to help with the pain? Is there anything I can do for you to make this easier somehow?”

She gave a light shake of her head.  He takes her hand and holds it to his chest, just above his heart.  “Darling, I hate to see you suffer like this.  We should not have….”

She uses a bit of her energy to squeeze his hand.  “I have no regrets.  We are halfway through this.”

Loki could only nod, knowing that even in this state, she was not to be trifled with.  “How about a trip to the gardens?  Perhaps some fresh air would help.”

A small smile formed on her face.  “That sounds nice.”  He tenderly helped her out of bed and out to the gardens, finding a stone bench for them to sit.  It was mid-afternoon, and the sun was shining bright, flowers in full bloom, and birds flew overhead. Leaning against Loki, she smiled as the breeze kissed her face.  Loki wrapped his arms protectively around her.  “You are the strongest person I’ve ever known, my darling.”

She gave a small laugh in response.  “I’m pretty sure Thor wins that, especially with that hammer he’s so fond of.”

Loki snorted.  “That buffoon would fold after wearing that cursed object for 2 days.  You have a strength and determination I’ve only seen in one other person, my mother.”  He slid his other arm around her waist and pulled her close as she placed her head on his shoulder, his heart aching from the dullness in her expression.  

“The one thing I refuse to let this curse take, what's tiring me more is that I refuse to let go that I love you. You keep me going, like a candle in the darkness, like a guiding star.”

Loki had never felt so touched, so loved in his entire existence.  His heart tugged, mournful at her current state but proud of how she refuses to let the curse completely consume her.   “You are one of the most loving, passionate people I’ve ever met.  You’ve given me so much through all of our ups and downs.  No one possesses a more beautiful nor brighter heart than yours.  I love you more than life itself.”

“I love you, my strong, handsome Loki.”

As the days continue to pass, Astri ate and drank less, partly from energy, partly from lack of hunger.  Loki took it upon himself to help her eat, feeding her whatever he could get her to eat.  She bathed less, but he would bring a warm cloth and some soap to help lightly bathe her in bed when she could not find it in herself to get in the bath.  Her need to use the toilet became less, but Loki never hesitated to help her to and from the bathroom anytime she needed it.  He kept a watchful eye over her, doing anything she would allow him to do.

Finally, one day, she refused to eat.  “Not hungry.”  He understood her words, but her health said otherwise.  “Please, you need to eat something.  Anything.  You need sustenance.  I beg of you.”  His pleas were full of heartbreak and sorrow but not one ounce of pity.  He was greatly relieved when she leaned against him, saying “okay.”

He pressed a soft kiss to her check before sending a servant to bring her favorite soup along with some buttered bread.  “Thank you, darling.”  He turned towards her, cupping her check with one hand as he used the other to slowly feed her some soup.  “There we go.  That’s it.”  Every bite feels like a victory, and he was immensely  proud when he was able to help her finish the bowl, even though it was less than a half serving.  It was more than she’d eaten in the past 2 days.  He could start to see her bones due to her weight loss.

“If there’s anything you want to eat, anything at all at any time, let me know and I will make it happen: fruit from Alfheim, french fries from Midgard, anything.”

The tears start to fall,the weight of the necklace getting harder to bear, but Loki does everything he can to comfort her.  “It’s okay, love.  I’m right here.”

The last few days felt like both forever and simultaneously like they’re passing by like nothing, but finally the last day arrives.  The depression has gotten much worse, and Astri continues to drop weight, eating less and less every day.  

Astri feels particularly poorly today, more than any previous day since the trial started.  The need to bathe is there, but there’s no energy and not enough desire to actually attempt the task.  Loki looks on, eyes full of pain and sorry, heart twisting in his chest.  He wants to help, unsure what to do but finally gains the courage to ask.

“Darling, if you trust me, perhaps I could help you to bathe?  A bath will help you feel better.  I know we’ve stopped using the servants for more than bringing food, but if you’re okay with it, I’d be glad to help you.”

“You really don’t have to, Loki.  I don’t even know why you’d offer.  You should find someone worth your time and attention.”

Anger surged in his eyes.  “Don’t speak like that. Don’t EVER say that about yourself. Who are you to say that you’re not worth it? Who are you to tell me to leave and find someone new? Who are you to tell me how to spend my time and my love?  You are worth more than all the gold in Asgard, beyond invaluable to me.”

“I’m such a mess,” she said as she started to cry.

“You’re not a mess.  You’ve taken on an incredibly different trial that most people wouldn’t be able to do.  You are the strongest person I’ve ever known, and I will continue to remind you of that fact.”  He hoped his words were getting through to her.  “No matter what, I will always stay by your side.  I love you more than the stars themselves.”

There we go, my love.  Just relax and let me do all the work. Shhh…. It’s okay my sweet darling….

Astri didn’t want to fight him on this, and his words helped to brighten her aching heart, conceding to his request to help her bathe.  He went into the bathroom to start filling the giant tub, making sure the water was just the right temperature before coming back out to gently help her undress.  “Just relax.  I’ll do all of the work, my beautiful girl.”  

Once undressed, he then carried her to the bathroom, delicately placing her in the water.  The heat of the bath felt nice on her aching body.  He used great care to gently wash her, trying to help her preserve as much of her modesty where he could.

After he finished cleaning her body, he washed her hair, rinsing it out and avoiding getting soap in her eyes and giving her a gentle but loving scalp massage.  When the bath was complete, he fetched a large, soft, fluffy towel and helped her out of the tub.  After she was dried, he carried her back into the bedroom and aided her into the most comfortable clothes before laying her down in the bed.

“So good to me,” she said, her voice sounding grateful but still full of so much sorrow.  This caused a sad but loving smile to grow on his face.  Going to the other side of the bed, he crawled in and pulled the covers over them, moving close to her so he could hold her close to his chest.  “You’ve been going through hell.  This is the very least I can do.”

Listening to the beat of his heart, she fell asleep.  He was glad she was able to get some rest, but over the past few days, she’s been sleeping more than being awake; however, he refused to leave her to do other things even while she slumbered, wanting to be there in case she woke up and needed or wanted anything.

The next day finally arrived, the trial having finally concluded, and the two were summoned to the throne room.  Loki carried her there where a servant brought out a chair so that she could sit, not having the energy to be able to stand on her own anymore, but Loki declined, preferring to have her in his arms.  Loki looked upon Odin with nothing but anger, his actions leading to his beloved’s current state, forcing her to suffer the curse of this necklace.

“I see Loki has taken very good care of you.”  Odin’s voice sounded like poison to their ears.  Loki couldn’t help but retort in a spiteful tone.  “This is entirely your fault, forcing her to do this instead of just giving us your blessing.  If you dare say anything, it should be an apology to this dear girl in my arms.”

Odin glared at him, his son daring to speak to him in such a tone.  Standing up and approaching them, Odin spoke once more.  “Careful how you speak to me, boy.”  Loki took a step back, his body stiffening, not wanting his vindictive father near his darling girl.  “You will not come any closer, or I will…..”

“You made a promise.”  Astri interrupted him, using the very little energy she had to address the All Father, surprising both men.  Loki’s expression softened.  “You must save your strength, darling.”  

Making him put her down, she used what little strength she had to confront the king.  “We had a bargain. Will you hold up your end? Or have you lost your honor?”  The accusation startled Odin, but Frigga stopped her husband before he could say anything.  “You made a bargain, and she has completed her side.  It is your responsibility to fulfill your side.”

Losing the last of her strength, she fell back against Loki who caught her before she hit the ground and held her steady.  “Please, don’t push yourself too hard, my love.”  His eyes went back to his father, glaring at him, waiting for him to end this horrid trial.

Silence fell upon the room, everyone watching and waiting with baited breath until finally Odin had the box brought to him.  Using gungnir, he removed the necklace and placed it back in its rightful place in the wooden container.  Astri saw the guilt in Odin’s eyes.  “The trial is now completed.  I am proud of you.  You have great strength and fortitude, more than most and am proud to soon call you daughter.”

Loki scoffed.  “Do not speak of her strength.  You have no idea the toll this has taken on her mind and body.”

Odin sighed.  “You are right.  I do not; however, this trial was necessary.”

Loki’s face turned red, his eyes full of fire and rage.  “This was not necessary!  You are a cruel man who just wanted her to suffer, knowing that most cannot survive that curse.”

His father glared back at him.  “You think I wanted this?  I did not.  Per the law, a prince may only marry a royal or a god/goddess.  Completing this trial, Astri has shown the strength not only to become a princess, it also completes the transition to make her a goddess.  Astri, I know this was no easy feat., but I can now declare you the goddess of compassion and hereby am able to now grant my blessing for you and Loki to marry.”

Applause erupted throughout the throne room.  Astri felt the beginnings of her strength returning, quickly able to tell it would take a while to fully recover, but she didn’t have a single regret.  Looking at her Loki, it gladdened her heart to have such an incredible man by her side.  “The only reason I survived is you, my dearest love.  I could not have done this without you.”  

Her words made him smile, but he could not let go of the anger he held for Odin.  “You should not have had to bear this terrible burden.  You are strong, brave, and so much more.  I thank all the gods for bringing you into my life that fateful day.  I could not imagine not having you in my life.  Now, let's focus on your recovery.  I think some rest is in order.”

She yawned a bit.  “I think you are right.  Some rest and, perhaps, a bit of food.”  This made her beloved incredibly happy.  Carrying her back to his room, he had the servants bring food, helping her to eat as it would take some time for her full strength to come back to her.  

There was a knock on the door.  Loki went to answer it, finding it was Astri’s mother, Marta who then rushed to her daughter’s side.  “My daughter!  It pains me to see you in such a state.  I wish you had told me about this, about the trial.  I would have been here to help take care of you.”

Astri was so happy to see her mother.  “I know, but I did not want to worry you.  That’s why I asked the All Mother not to tell you.  You already have so much between your palace duties and taking care of everything at home.”

Marta was touched but still a bit upset.  “I’ve always known you to be stubborn, but I’ve also seen the strength you have inside, and I am overjoyed to call you my daughter.”  She then gave her daughter a hug and a kiss on the cheek.  “I will leave you to rest, but I will come back to check on you.”

Over the following days, Astri continued to recover, regaining her strength.  One evening, she and Loki went for a stroll to enjoy the gardens.  Seeing the flora and fauna made her smile.  Going up to smell the flowers, she enjoyed it immensely.  Turning around, she gasped, surprised to find Loki down on one knee, holding the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen.

 “You are the bravest, most loving, compassionate, beautiful woman.  We’ve known each other since we were children.  There is no one like you in all the nine realms, and I cannot imagine my life without you.  I would be most honored if you would agree to be my wife and one day, hopefully, the mother of my children.”  Loki was filled with a mixture of emotion: fear, desire, anxiety, hope, and anticipation.  Although Astri went through this trial so they could be together, he was still afraid she might say no.

She nodded furiously.  “Yes!  Yes, I will marry you!”  He arose, placing the ring on her finger.  It was a perfect fit.  Cupping his face, she kissed him.  Loki wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss.  

The wedding was a fortnight later, set in the very gardens where they’d met as children.  The air was full of fireflies and butterflies, sometimes landing on her veil and Loki’s shoulders.  Only those closest to them were invited, unusual for a royal wedding.  In addition to the unusual location, Loki wore a suit made specifically for the occasion as she wore a dress to match his colors, a dress fit for a queen. 

It was a wedding celebration that surpassed all expectations - destined to be remembered for centuries. Their love story would be told in tales for generations to come.

Dividers by @jiyascepter

taglist: @vbecker10

[rubydracogirl]

I’m gonna ramble about one of my favorite Gravity Falls headcanons because I haven’t seen anyone mention or bring it up.

So, I’m curious, does anyone think that maybe the reason why Stan has such big ears that stick out so much is due to his experience with boxing? It’s true that he could just genetically have big ears, but from what I’ve observed, Ford’s ears don’t seem to stick out with the same prominence.

I’m not a medical professional and I don’t have a background with boxing/wrestling myself, but I know someone who did MMA and Krav Maga training for a few years. She developed a very mild case of cauliflower ear; the cartilage of her ear is calloused and curls in slightly. (It’s only noticeable if you really look for it.)

I think Stan has a pretty severe case of cauliflower ear that caused both enlargement and for the cartilage to roll forward, so his ears stick out. It’s undeniable that any fight training or participation is extremely hard on your body, especially if you don’t have access to medical attention, and I can’t help but think that a lot of his health problems are due to his experience with boxing, such as the fact that he wears dentures and hearing aids even though he’s allegedly in his early 60’s.

Now, I know that during the montage in ATOTS, you can see the progression of his age and his ears get bigger as he ages, which is something that naturally occurs without outside influence, but again, Ford’s ears don’t seem to stick out as much as Stan’s do even though they’re the same age.

I think this implies that Stan kept boxing while he was in Gravity Falls, (the boxing paraphernalia in his room seems to support this). Regular trauma to your body will have a physical effect the longer you expose yourself to it, and I think that’s what happened to Stan.

Anyways, I don’t know, maybe I’m overanalyzing, or maybe this just isn’t that remarkable, but I haven’t seen any mention of this, and I just wanted to bring it up because I think that, even if I’m incorrect, Stan’s exaggerated prominent ears, hearing aids and dentures are interesting details since Stan is the twin that took more to boxing/close combat training.

[appleflavoredkitkats]

do you have any headcanons on what russell went through during his time with the utopians?

HELLO ISSY!! im in the middle of plotting my version of ivywood so i have SOME things... but not everything is fully fleshed out! here r some of them (under the cut!)

since it's sort of implied that russell's been raised there since birth/childhood, i feel like his parents only joined because they were struggling financially, which the utopians would have aided

i do think russell would have HATED the strict regulations at a young age. like obviously, he would still grow to adapt to some things (ie. desperate need to prove himself worthy, because the utopians would have deprived that of their followers) but to me, russell is just too much of a curious child. he wouldn't have kept his curiosities at bay, especially since he loved learning about more mind-boggling things like cryptic codes, linguistics, the human brain, etc. at a young age

i think this guy! would have been a very lonely child! esp since he's austistic and trans! since he's afab, i feel like his autism diagnosis would have come in late (like maybe 10 years old?) and that's the same time he would have realized he was trans. so he basically became a disappointment amongst the utopians. like parents would tell their kids that russell would be the child NOT to imitate u get me

but i feel like as much as i think russell would come out of this with insecurities, i think his pride is one of the reasons that got him out of there in the first place? and i mean, call him egotistical all you want, but the last thing russell would want to do is doubt his capabilities because that's EXACTLY what the utopians would have wanted.

in my version of ivywood, i made "once upon a crime" happen AFTER "wild wild death" because i hc that trevor neuman was responsible for russell's interest in psychology. but don't get it twisted, he doesn't rlly like the kid- rather, the higher-ups in utopia saw potential in his intelligence and wanted to profit off of that. to me, russell might have possibly made the foundations for their brainwashing mechanism, but russell himself doesn't realize that it actually works

i do think russell was genuinely close to his parents, although they don't get along all the time because the two are depressed servants of the cult. i do think russell would have had a closer bond to his mother though. i'd like to think she actually helped russell escape at 16. the only reason she didn't go with him was because she wanted to convince jupiter to go with her, but he adamantly refused out of fear.

the higher-ups definitely knew that caroline (russell's mom) assisted his escape and so they would have murdered her and framed it as an accident. when this happened, they utilized jupiter's grief to make him stay in utopia even longer.

after hearing news about his mom's death, russell would have sneakily watched the funeral from afar. that's when he received the note that says he has nowhere to hide.

i need to flesh this out even more, but i definitely think russell reached out to the pbpd after he escaped. i think it would be funny if andrea assigned frank to look after him, at least up until russell finds a secure job to move out lol. there is a reason these two are at each other's throats all the time !

to return to the utopians though, i genuinely think that the fact russell was raised in a cult fucked up his sense of identity and vulnerability, in a sense that. this mfker HATES showing his true self to anyone in fear of it being used against him. his flirty, manipulative mask is definitely just. a mask. because it's a survival skill he developed after escaping !

moreover i do think he gets impostor syndrome sometimes because as much as he's a genuinely prideful person, sometimes he thinks he feels the need to grab everyone's attention because he was so deprived of it when he was young. so sometimes he does have to grapple with that, because he HATES thinking that a part of him is still disgustingly utopian

[turtleduckscribbles]

Close to Home

“No matter where I go to offer aid, Link remains at my side…”

~A brief exploration of Zelda’s personal journey toward home, and how she finds it in Link.

Read on AO3 or continue below.

<< Chap 5 <<

~o~o~o~o~o~

Chapter 6: "These Fine Lines"

The light from the overhanging lanterns cast soft, swaying shadows upon the walls, illuminating the dining table below. Candlesticks running the tabletop guttered and dripped pools of wax onto the cracked wood. Empty bowls with remnants of carrot stew sat forgotten, the delicious aroma still lingering in the air. Frosting daubed the dessert plates in swirly white streaks. Zelda finished her last bite of fruitcake and set down her fork with a gentle clink, bringing the napkin to her lips to conceal a poorly disguised giggle.

“Your description is wholly on the mark,” she said, dabbing at the corners of her mouth. “She’s certainly maintained her spark, Purah, hasn’t she? Or perhaps ‘spunk’ is a better term. The child persona fits her remarkably well, given her wild bursts of energy.”

Across the table, Link casually sat back in his chair, having properly gorged himself on multiple rounds of homemade stew and dessert, the latter of which he had surprised her with after dinner. She had swelled at the sight: a beautifully made fruitcake topped with decorative piping and freshly picked berries. Her favorite. He watched her attentively as she talked, his lips slightly turned up. “She’s a spitfire,” he added.

“Yes! Exactly that. Though she seems to be in good company in this village, judging by your builder friend.”

Link’s smile grew. “Bolson likes his songs.”

“And putting on a show?”

“That too.”

Zelda gave up all hope of pretense and let out a chuckle. “I figured as much. Granted, he and his colleague both seem delightful. As does Symin—he seems the perfect counterbalance to Purah’s spunk. Though in Purah’s defense, she’s always been that way, even before her age reversal… But it just highlights the eccentricity of her genius, you know? I can’t fault her for it, really. She’s quite brilliant—implausibly so. Oh, which reminds me! Did you know she used to randomly douse herself in ice water?” Smiling fondly, she plucked another stray blueberry off her plate and popped it into her mouth. “Back when we’d collaborate, she’d often break away mid-experimentation and dunk herself in a bucket she kept in one of the laboratory’s back rooms. She claimed it would get the inspiration flowing, and surely it must have… but—well, mostly it resulted in water flowing down her head for the rest of the night.”

Smirking, Link leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. “I’ve got something even weirder for you.”

“Please, do tell.”

“Robbie fell for an ancient oven and named it after his first love.”

“Oh my…” Zelda’s nostalgia morphed into consternation. “Well. I suppose that rings true, doesn’t it? He used to exhibit unconventional mannerisms as well. It may just be part and parcel of researching ancient technology. They are cut from the same cloth after all, he and Purah.”

“I’m not sure which of them would be more thrilled to hear that.”

“Yes,” Zelda laughed. “I can imagine the idea would cause a stir. Both have quite the competitive streak. Perhaps I’ll keep quiet on that one.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thank you. I knew you were dependable.”

They exchanged identical grins. The fond, unguarded look in Link’s eyes was equally as familiar as it was novel to her; so open and unassuming. But she found she couldn’t hold his gaze. Her eyes dropped to the napkin in her hands, her thoughts fluctuating rapidly in the fickle current of her mind.

“Though it wasn’t always a season of splendor.” She rolled the linen between her fingers. “With all our successes, a countless number of setbacks followed. There were so many unknowns, so much uncertainty… A host of variables to navigate. So much on our shoulders. We all experienced hardships, even then.” She paused; then, more quietly: “Especially then.”

Link listened silently as she spoke. He too had lowered his gaze, which rested on the salt shaker between them. The glimmer of candlelight reflected back in his eyes, distant and meditative.

“It does relieve me to know they’re still here,” Zelda went on. “Purah and Robbie and Impa.” Her lips tightened. She shouldn’t go down this path. She knew she was toeing that dangerous line in the sand she had drawn for herself. Still, she pressed on. “It was almost too much to hope for, after all this time… and yet here they are. It really is incredible, all the work they’ve done in the interim. Because truly, they’ve done so much, and I… I’m so grateful.”

Link’s eyes remained on the shaker, his fingertips slowly spinning it in place. When he spoke, his voice was subdued.

“You’re very dear to them, Princess.”

His words hung in the air. Zelda fidgeted with the napkin.

“They’d definitely claim you as part of their cloth.”

His attempt at levity was a needed release. She shifted in her seat, taking a deep, deliberate breath. “Yes, well… I can’t pretend I’m any more sensible. Impa was always the sensible one among us—she’d insist otherwise, but I was too often strung along by Purah’s antics. And Robbie’s too, of course… Their passion for research was always infectious. It’s really an honor to be considered one of them, even in the smallest part. They’re brilliant, each of them, and… and I feel quite privileged to have studied under their tutelage…”

She trailed off, her wandering eyes coming to a standstill. The sleeves of Link’s undershirt were rolled up from his time in the kitchen, exposing fit, well-defined arms, outstretched before him as he thumbed the salt shaker—and Zelda couldn’t look away. It was as though she were seeing them for the first time: an uncovered history, a century-old secret brought to light after years of being shrouded in darkness. An incrimination. She eyed a point on his wrist, noting the pink discoloration…

Enough, scolded the rational part of her brain. You don’t want to go down this route. Look away.

She shouldn’t. She knew she shouldn’t, this was absolutely treacherous territory, this flouting of unspoken boundaries that tested the thin glass between them. But suddenly, as if possessed by an unseen power, Zelda was reaching out, her hand closing over his own. His calloused skin was firm, warm to the touch, and his eyes were on her now, watching as she gingerly pulled his arm towards her. And before she could hold her breath and take the plunge, it was there, the evidence laid bare in stark reality. Zelda traced the edge of an angry red welt at the base of Link’s wrist. The mark was leathery with age, branching upwards in spidery tendrils that wrapped around his arm. Fine, silvery lines of varying lengths intersected the red ribbons, crossing and criss-crossing to form numberless striations along his forearm. These too Zelda skimmed with careful fingertips, detailing the grooves and ridges: a rough topography of scars mapping the surface of his skin.

Link was still as stone as she committed his scars to memory. Etched on his skin was the story of their shared heartache, of past torments that had never fully healed. Unnatural hills and valleys bearing witness to seismic shifts. Zelda swallowed, her eyes following the trail of burns until they disappeared into his sleeve. For all the devastation inflicted upon his arm, she knew it was trivial compared to what lay beneath his shirt, invisible to the world. And that was to say nothing of the hidden hurts beneath his skin…

Years of hurts. Lifetimes of hurts. For her.

Zelda’s throat constricted. She couldn’t bring herself to look at his face. An indescribable feeling washed over her. She could feel it building within, rising up beyond her control. If she was not careful, it would certainly overwhelm her. She gazed down at their joined hands with unseeing eyes, her voice barely a whisper.

“I’m so sorry, Link.”

Without warning, Link’s free hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, causing her heart to skip a beat. Her head jerked up in alarm. 

Link’s grip was gentle but sure, and a fire was in his eyes, looking at her dead-on with a startling intensity. He shook his head in a clear sign of dissent; then, with his gaze still locked onto hers, he began pulling her hand back toward him, bringing it up to his chest. Not to where she knew lay the rough terrain of scars—but to his heart. Zelda sat motionless as she felt its strong and steady rhythm beneath her palm: a testament of his vitality. His electric blue eyes held her fast, and even without words, she could easily divine his meaning:

This. You did this.

“You saved me.”

The tipping point.

Zelda’s vision blurred, distorting Link’s image, until finally, she couldn’t take it anymore, this outpouring of undeserved kindness, and she dropped her gaze. Their clasped hands followed, coming to rest between them on the table. And there, in the dim seclusion of the house, Zelda breathed through her grief, numb to everything except the feeling of Link’s thumb rubbing soothing circles into her hand, cupped so tenderly in his own as they rode out the silence and the accompanying relentless memories.

END OF PART TWO

~o~o~o~o~o~

>> Chap 7 >>

[diorblusher]

‘The caring touch of an CEO.’

ღ —— > Ashley Barrett x fem reader. Readers name isn’t Y/N, instead Sara.

ღ —— > fluff, with intimacy.

ღ —— > small age gap.

As the fashion designer of Vought, Sara had quite a handful of work to do. With the childish hero’s of the Seven being so nagging and your co-workers being just as bad, she had quite a full time table.

While sketching an outfit, Sara would often admire her boss, Ashley. She’s literally stress as a person. But so damn beautiful. I mean, look at her outfits. Instead of making them for her, she wants to rip them off her instead.. wait, what? This small crush continues, from watching her, to even making outfits for her. Sara wasn’t sure if it was okay to feel like this. I mean, once during a meeting, Cameron exposed that they had sex in the bathroom. He also told sara about how kinky and controlling Ashley actually is, which was so unexpected to her. Even less that he’s petty enough to spread that around about Ashley. And Ashley being older doesn’t make it much better. But Sara didn’t mind it. Just draw, admire, sew and admire, and create and admire and-..

“Sara..” A voice is in the background of your thoughts. Absolute silence. Then suddenly..

“Sara!”

You get snapped out of your thoughts and look up at Ashley.

“I’m sorry miss, I didn’t hear you.”

“While you’re so busy daydreaming, fucking look while you’re sewing at least!”

“Huh?”

Sara looks down at her hand and sees her hand covered in blood. While being lost in her thoughts, she didn’t even focus on what she was using the sewing Maschine for or how. The entire table and workspace is covered in blood, as well as the design that Sara was working on.

“Oh.. I uh-“

To say she’s embarrassed is an understatement. Sara turns off the sewing Maschine while her hand bleeds still, using the bloodied design and putting it over her bloody hand.

Ashley quickly goes to Sara’s side and grabs her hand, looking at it.

“Fuck. Are you okay?”

“It hurts but uh, it is not that bad, don’t worry!.”

The tears in Sara’s eyes say otherwise.

Ashley scoffs and grabs a first aid kit.

She cleans up Sara’s wound with alcohol, while Sara tries not to hiss out of pain. Her wounds get tied with bandages.

“I can’t have the only co-worker who’s somewhat manageable to be injured. Who else is gonna stare at me the entire time then?”

Wait, whaaat?

Sara blushed, feeling like her cheeks are about to explode. She can’t even tell if it’s from crying or being flustered. She isn’t even looking up at Ashley but she can practically hear her grin.

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Hey, look at me.”

Sara looks up at Ashley. Ashley’s grin falters and she holds Sara’s face, looking at her and noticing her tears, probably from the pain of the sewing Maschine.

Ashley hugs Sara. And oh my gosh. Sara hugs her back so quickly and so hard.

Sara thought to herself, ‘fuck, I didn’t know Ashley is soft like this, especially not after what Cameron said about Ashley being a freak.’

“It’s okay, calm down. You’re okay. I’ll get the blood cleaned up.”

Sara nods into Ashley’s shoulder, the clothing there getting a tiny bit soaked with tears.

“Please don’t let this happen again. And go to the nurse later, yeah? No need to overwork yourself, that’s my job already.”

They both chuckle softly at the joke and kept holding each other. When Sara began calming down, it was only thanks to Ashley. She kept her in an embrace and kissed her cheek or forehead every now and then, running her hands through Sara’s hair or over her cheek.

When Sara pulls out of the hug and looks at Ashley, Ashley began talking.

“You know shift is over, right? I was also still writing so much shit for the next days, that I didn’t even notice that the job was done. Thanks for being so clumsy, otherwise I would’ve been here all day.”

Sara smiles and wipes the tears away from Ashley’s tears. Then she noticed something.

“Hey. You’re wearing the outfit I made for you!”

“Why wouldn’t I? You know, as much as I do for this company, I just feel like.. I dunno, a fucking puppet. A dog, with homelander being on the end of my leash, you know? It’s nice to be appreciated. It’s nice to be noticed and stared at every now and then.”

“I’m.. so sorry that you feel that way. I seriously think you’re beautiful. I think you should be in a damn magazine or runway instead of a shitty job like this, but then again, the girlboss role suits you.”

When all of that slips out, Sara feels like she’s been newborn. She has been wanting to say this.

Ashley smirks a bit and when Sara least expects it, she pecks her lips.

“Woah-“

“Come to my office tomorrow. Right when work begins.”

And with that, Ashley leaves a blushing Sara alone.

Bonus: After Ashley leaves, Sara says

“FUCK YEAH!” loudly. Outside of the door, Ashley heard it and smiled to herself.

[rmoonstoner]

***

Poisoned Empanadas

***

Pairing:

Moon Knight (Jake Lockley) x Spider!fem!reader

Spider-Man 2099 (Miguel O'Hara) x Spider!fem!reader

***

18+

Warnings:

Violence, strong language, mentions of death, mentions of depression, sexual themes, someone gets hurt

***

Summary:

A wild Miguel appears once again!

***

Chapter 5 - Pizza Rolls

Yes. I said it. Pizza rolls to me are just little pizza filled Empanadas. My favorite kind are the big Great Value bag of them. Let me tell you about the homemade pizza rolls I made recently. I got puff pastry, then filled them with cream cheese and extra old aged cheddar, diced dry aged salami, diced habaneros, diced onions, homemade garlic pizza sauce, and then close them up, cover in garlic butter, sprinkle with parmesan, and bake on parchment paper for 15-25 min on 350.

***

Another week had rolled on by since that very explicit dream and you hadn't run into Miguel at all. Even when you outright asked the criminals on whether or not they had seen a jacked up Spider-Man, they genuinely looked confused and terrified that there was yet another Spider-Man, and this one was bigger than any of the others. It almost made you question his existence, had the wizard not kept asking if you had seen him again?

Every.

Damned.

Night.

You nearly lost hope on running into him. Maybe he found his way back to where he came from? Maybe he had to leave the city to find the thing he needed in order to do so?

Either way, you managed to get out to patrol for an entire seven days without seeing any sign of him. Perhaps he was busy, which was good. It was getting old being asked the same question every night. At least Peter had the decency to not ask about Miguel while in Stephen's presence. That would just trigger the doctor into playfully teasing you about it.

Thankfully, he hadn't asked about Miguel at all for today, come to think of it. Stephen had said Peter was there when he opened up a viewing orb to see where you were. Maybe Peter's little magic caffeine fit made him forget? Oh, who were you kidding, he aced his finals, so of course he'd remember seeing Miguel in the orb.

"Hey! Nice to see you!" Peter called out as you flipped yourself over the ledge to see only him at the meeting point. He was just packing up Gwen's bag that she had left the previous night.

"Hi! How are you?" You greeted him as he handed you a protein bar.

"Doing good. Since I did so well on my reports, I got a few recommendations from some of the professors. I showed them to Stephen, and told him I want to get my engineering and chemistry certification."

"So you plan on getting a doctorate?"

"Yes! I hope it makes Stephen proud. It's not the same kind of doctor, and it's more what Tony would have wanted-" Peter rambled a bit and you placed a hand to his shoulder.

"Stephen is proud of you. He'd be proud of you no matter what subject you pick. He would be proud even if you failed, because you tried so hard. You don't give up when it gets rough. He knows how much Tony meant to you and Tony wasn't one to stop achieving his dreams when he failed at something. You and Stephen share that drive, and it'll take you far." You said with a bright smile.

It wasn't a lie, because Strange talked about the boy a lot. He always asked how he was doing after a patrol, and he would be the one to do most of the first aid on the team. If he ever had to help Peter with an injury, the man would fuss while patching the boy up. Stephen would even be constantly mentioning how proud Tony would have been, had he been around to see Peter's achievements. The doctor almost sounded like a sweet old grandmother affectionately referring to her grandchild when he spoke of Peter.

"Thank you. That feels good hearing that from you." Peter replied as he cracked a grin.

"So… Does this mean I have to call you Doctor Parker? Or Doctor Spider-Man? Oooh! I know! How about Spider-Doctor?" You gently teased him. Peter burst out laughing while shaking his head.

"Absolutely not! It will be Doctor Parker, and then just the same old, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man." He chuckled with a wink.

"Ah, good. Though… What about Doctor Webs?!" You gave a laugh back as you tried to picture it. He laughed and shook his head. The both of you got ready to head out, suiting up fully and slinging away into the night as you kept roasting Peter on the names he could use.

***

Most of the night was pretty calm. There was a fender bender pretty early on and a guy needed to be pulled from the wreckage, so Peter had helped. You didn't have much to offer in assistance, so you sat perched up on a shopping market roof to watch him while you called an ambulance. When all was said and done, you left to go seek out other problem areas that might need some help. The small police scanner Peter had built into his wrist watch sure did help a lot, and it reminded you of Miguel's watch.

Another occurrence was a man being held at knife point by a local drunk. Peter and you managed to talk the guy down and check him into a local drop-in center for outreach help. From there, everything was good. Nothing was off, which was great. It was so great that you and Peter stopped for a bite to eat on top of Stark Tower. About half way through your sandwich, Peter's watch and phone went off. He picked it up to check and his face fell.

"What's wrong, Peter?"

"There's been a breach in the Stark Tower security systems." He grumbled as he jammed the rest of his food into his mouth and chewed vigorously. You huffed and opened your sandwich and hurriedly removed the good bits, shoving them into your mouth and discarding the bread and other bits you didn't enjoy much. You both chewed in silence as you wiped your faces and hands.

"What? But we are sitting on the building..?" You asked with a confused face as you opened a soda to wash your mouth out, then handed it over to Peter so he could do the same.

"Yeah… I suppose we should go check it out, then?" He suggested. How could you say no?

Since Peter already had official security clearance, it was easy to get inside. You followed him in and down to the lower levels. He didn't bother to creep about. He acted like he owned the place, which he kind of did now that Tony was gone. Peter glanced at his watch a few times.

"Looks like the disturbance is in the vaults." Peter announced as he pointed to another stairwell. His tech was telling him the breach was in the power core reactor vault on the main floor. It was separated from the one that powered the building, and that was underground.

Peter directed you to the stairwell and down the center of the spiral stairs. He chose to use a web rope, while you descended with a disk of light. Once at the main floor, Peter quietly peeked down a hallway and motioned for you to follow. You darkened your suit and dimmed the lights in the hallway slowly, while Peter made his way towards the vault room.

There was a clatter of sorts the closer you got. Peter was a bit nervous, his spider senses no doubt going insane as he twitched at any noise. Yours, however, wasn't going off at all. You thought that was odd, considering the threatening nature of the noises that you were hearing. Scraping and clanking to be specific could be heard, followed by what sounded like drawers and doors opening and closing rapidly. The occasional crash of glass tinking against glass could be heard as well.

Peter stopped at the door, a weak light coming from inside. You could hear someone grumbling to someone. A man, talking to a woman. Peter was opening the door as you realized the voices sounded familiar, and before you could tell him to wait, Peter was zipping inside to confront the individuals.

"I'd stop that if I were you. Mr. Stark might be gone, but this building is still owned by his associates." Peter said as he clung to the roof in front of a large storage room door. The noises suddenly stopped and a growl erupted from the room.

"Spidey, uh, maybe we should be careful-" You started to say, when a large metal box was hurled at him. Thankfully, Peter managed to smack it away in time.

"Not one for talking, huh? Are you the strong silent type?" Peter said as he fired off a warning shot into the storage room. A small crash could be heard as a bunch of things fell to the ground and scattered all over the floor and out the door. You hid in the shadows and got closer to the door as Peter dropped down and darted into the room after the noise.

"Friday! Spidey needs the rest of the backup lights off!" You called out. The noises suddenly stopped as that familiar voice went 'huh?' And a second later, and the lights went out.

A scuffle occurred. You could hear Peter get hit and grunt as he came flying out of the room and hit the wall on the other side of the room. You gasped when it registered. You heard the distinct sound of bone breaking and Peter hissing in pain.

There was another crash, so you turned and stepped into the storage room, seeing a dark figure smash a window and climb up into it. The moon light hit his form just right, and you could tell immediately that it was Miguel. He turned to look back at you, tilted his head, then jumped. You looked back at Peter, seeing he was getting up and rubbing his neck.

You had a choice. Stay and help Peter, or chase Miguel.

"Get that jerk, Galaxy-Spider!" Peter shouted as he huffed while leaning against the wall. His arm looked like it was bent the wrong way, and his voice was dripping with pain.

That fucking dick broke your friend's arm!

You saw red, and then in an instant, you were across the room, handing Peter your bag for anything he would need, before running to and jumping from the window that Miguel had escaped from.

As you hit the night air, you looked around, catching a glimpse of Miguel zipping up a web to the roof of the building you just left. You scowled and hissed as you summoned a circle of light and stepped on it. You braced yourself and sent it straight upwards towards Miguel.

When he turned his head to check if he had gotten away, he recoiled in surprise when he saw that you were only meters behind him.

He reached out and shot a web to the next building over and kicked away from the tower. He used the momentum of the sudden change in trajectory to rocket himself away. He was fast, like ridiculously fast for a large hulking mass of muscle. It made sense, Jake was slightly smaller, but the cabbie was pretty fucking fast. So, of course Miguel, with the same setup, would be faster since he was a Spider.

Right?

"Get your ass back here!" You demanded as you aimed at him and shot off a web. He managed to twist himself out of the way. In doing so, he landed against the building and sprang away from it to go to another across the street.

"Fucker! I swear to the Gods, if you make me chase you, I am not going to be a happy girl!" You called out while making a series of glowing lights appear to get to him. He had gained a fair distance, now being three blocks away.

You could do this. You had chased far worse things than Miguel. This should be easy for you.

One blob at time, but surprisingly quickly as you hopped, skipped, and jumped your way to the fleeing Spider. You gave chase for over ten minutes, drawing you far away from the Stark Tower and the Sanctum. You hauled ass and pushed yourself to catch up with him, each breath coming out in a rush.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer…

Your lungs were burning and your muscles were aching with the effort to get to him. You were angry and upset that he had hurt your friend, and had the audacity to break and enter the building that belonged to said friend. You had an idea of what he was looking for, and you even offered to help him, yet here you were, chasing a potential thief that refused any help.

When Miguel looked back, you were almost able to grab at his ankle. The panic was evident in his body language, and in that split second, he shot you in the face with his webs.

Everything went dark and you stumbled while trying to pull the web from your face. You lost your footing, slipping and falling off the light. A strangled squeak came from you as your head smacked against another gob of light. Dizziness filled you as you kept falling. The ground would soon meet you and you were sure it would hurt and do some major damage.

A whoosh of air hit your ears as you were suddenly grabbed and sent flying. It took a moment to realize you weren't falling, but now were being carried while swinging in the air. Large muscular arms held you tightly against a well sculpted torso. The heat from the man was radiating nicely and it felt safe and warm, even though a few moments ago you wanted to punch him in his stupid face. A few moments later, and Miguel was setting you down gently, but he didn't let go. He was holding on in an effort to avoid you lashing out at him as he removed the webs from your face.

Well, you didn't lash out. You stayed still while trying to control your breathing. Your mask was taken off and when you looked up, Miguel had already discarded his on roof you were on. He held a look of concern as he inspected your head, finding a bump, but otherwise everything was fine.

"You gave me a scare, there. You weren't supposed to fall."

"Well you weren't supposed to commit a felony by breaking and entering Stark Tower, then I am pretty sure you broke my friend's arm!" You snapped at him and Miguel let go of you and took a step back.

"I broke his shocking arm!?" He seemed surprised and his face melted into remorse.

"I am sorry. He was trying to stop me from getting the information I needed, and he shot a web at Lyla. She's all I have left. I didn't mean to hurt him. I'm still getting used to these powers." He stammered as he showed you the lack of pockets and anything on his person, but the watch. You sighed, but still had to ask.

"Did you steal anything?"

"No! Well, uh, just the information I needed. I swear, I didn't take any of those glowing core things." He said and turned around.

"See? And no, I didn't put anything up there." He indicated to his rear, and it drew a small laugh from you. You cleared your throat and stood up.

"Well, you need to come back with me. Tell P- Tell Spidey that you're sorry and that you didn't mean to cause any harm, though you clearly did, you big brute. If you don't, the wizard will make your life really fucking hard." You scolded him and pointed back towards the tower. Miguel frowned as he looked down and sighed.

"Fine. I'm sorry I ran."

"Good! Now I'll just shoot him a text and let him know I am on the way back with you." You muttered while going for your pack. You froze when you remembered handing it to Peter.

"Ah, shit. I can't. I forgot I left my bag with him. Well, you're gonna just have to watch your back while we go."

***

By the time you got back to the tower, Peter had already called Stephen in. You could tell they were there because there was a warm orange glow of the portals he was so fond of. You had to check and make sure Miguel didn't just fuck off, which, thankfully, he didn't.

As you approached, you could see Stephen bent over Peter. He was fixing up his arm with magic and making sure Peter was alright when the lad sat up and pointed at you and Miguel.

"That's the guy!" Peter said as he jostled forward a bit and winced. Stephen smacked him lightly on the shoulder.

"Stay still. The last thing we need is you distracting me while I am trying to set the bone back into place!"

"But, Stephen, the guy that broke my arm is right there!" Peter argued with a whine.

"Settle down. I know he's there. I can clearly see him." Stephen said as he twisted Peter's arm suddenly. A loud crack was heard, and Peter gasped and almost threw up.

"But you're not even facing him…" Peter protested quietly. Stephen huffed and pointed up to his forehead and Peter went quiet. He didn't bother asking how he could still see Miguel, when that eye wasn't even facing him. He knew it was magic and left it at that.

"Heya, doc. I found the guy. Brought him back. He's willing to apologize and explain himself." You said as you motioned to Miguel, then to Peter.

"Good. I look forward to hearing about why he's caused such a fuss." Stephen stood there looking at everyone with his arms crossed. He looked mad and annoyed. Of course he'd be.

Miguel was nervous. He was shifting from one foot to the other as he looked at Peter.

"I, uh… I am sorry for breaking your arm. I… I am also sorry for breaking into this building." He glanced at Peter, then at Stephen, before his eyes landed on you.

"Okay. Cool. Apology accepted. Now, please enlighten me as to why you broke into my building?" Peter asked while Stephen started using magic to speed up the healing process.

"Your building?"

"Yes. This is my building."

"So that makes you Peter Parker, then." Miguel said as he motioned to the room around him.

"The man that Tony Stark left all his technology and businesses to. Wow. That's wild. You're so young." Miguel looked at you and huffed.

"You could have told me that, you know. I wouldn't have broken in here if I knew that this place belonged to your friend." Miguel complained and rubbed his face.

"You're a dick. I offered to ask my friends for help, but nooo, you said you wanted to do it all by yourself!" You said and threw both hands over to Peter. Peter was perfectly fine by now, Stephen's spell having worked its magic and fixed what Miguel had broken.

"I said I could have asked, and yet, you declined and ended up hurting my friend. I think you owe me an apology as well Miguel!"

"You're right. I'm sorry. I should have asked for help. I should have accepted your offer."

"Okay. Enough of this garbage. Can we go back to the Sanctum? I really need to finish this book I borrowed from Wong." Stephen spoke up and started walking through the portal.

"You're not going to punish me?" Miguel had a look of surprise on his face.

"No. That's for Peter and her to decide. I have enough shit to deal with already. Besides, you're a Spider-Folk. That's their jurisdiction." Stephen announced and then he went straight to sit at his desk with his book.

"Let's get going. You know how much he hates waiting." Peter whispered to you.

You nodded and looked at Miguel, curling your finger in a silent command to follow. Miguel hung his head in frustration as he followed on through. Once inside the library, the portal closed up behind you. Peter was the first to fling his mask off and flop into one of the arm chairs by the fireplace. You took yours off as you sat in the love seat and laid across it.

Miguel awkwardly looked at the other leather chair and sat down. From this angle he could see everyone, and he noticed the wizard's third eye was staring at him through the reflection of the mirror up on the wall beside him. That was unnerving, so he turned to look at Peter. The boy gave him an obnoxious smile as he looked Miguel over.

"That's a weird choice in a suit. You look like you're wearing a child's costume. I can see some of the seams are ripping." Peter quipped and you giggled.

"Look, my outfit was poorly planned in the time that I had." Miguel huffed and rolled his eyes as he relaxed into the chair.

He was spread eagle with the way he sat, and your eyes wandered down. Just a peek, right? What could it hurt?

"Hey, doc! Can ya fix up his ugly suit?" Peter glanced at you as he called out to Stephen.

You looked away as you blushed, Miguel eyeing you carefully as he crossed one leg over the other. Stephen grumbled and flicked his hands towards Miguel, and his suit resized and darkened with textures that weren't there before. Strange went right back to reading, but he was eavesdropping, ready to spring into action should Miguel blow his top.

Miguel's reaction was an undignified squeak and a grunt as the new suit formed around him. He stared at the gloves, noting the rubber like pads on the fingertips and the slits at the tips of the fingers for his claws. He got up and went over to the mirror and gawked at himself, twisting right and left as he looked at the professional fine detailing of the fabric patterns. Miguel looked like he was wearing boot shaped socks.

He didn't know what to say as he looked at you in the reflection of the mirror. You had been staring at him, eyes looking right at his impressive looking legs, looking up to his nice tight ass, then up his back to his shoulders, and finally to his eyes. You blushed and bit your inner cheek as you smiled at him. He winked at you and then turned to thank the doctor.

Miguel explained who he was, where he was from, and when. Stephen quietly listened, while Peter kept interrupting him to make a joke or a remark about something, like if he really fell into a dumpster, or if you had pushed him. It took about an hour to explain himself in what only took ten minutes to you privately. Stephen decided Miguel wasn't a threat, and offered to let him stay, but Miguel was very adamant about having a hotel room and that he didn't wish to be a burden.

Stephen wasn't having any of it. He refused Miguel's excuses and he showed him to a room, claiming he owed his son at least one day and night of his time for the inconvenience of temporarily breaking his arm. Miguel relented and followed Stephen to the room, and you didn't hear from him all night.

***

Series Masterlist

***

Note:

Sorry Peter. Miguel is really sorry.

Please like it if you enjoyed it, leave a comment, and share! ❤️ 💙

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Special thanks to:

Beta reader:

@einno-arko @theaussiedragon

Proof reader:

@iceclaw101

Ideas:

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