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whimsyfinny · 3 months ago

Text

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader, eventual smut

Warnings: language, mention of drugs

Chapter Word Count: 2330

—-MDNI—-

A/N: wooooop new series! I'm trying something new with this one! As a mom myself I loooove reading mom!reader fics, so I wanted to write my own. It's a slightly shorter first chapter, but the following ones should be longer. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, reading your comments makes my day ❤️ and of course, this is proofread only by myself so pls pls let me know of any errors! I really hope you enjoy it. I also didn’t write this at 2am for once so brownie points to me hahaha

Photos from Pinterest

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Chapter 1

“Come on, (Y/n)! You have to tell me all about it! What was he like? Did you kiss? Hold hands? Where did he take you?”

I couldn’t help but smile at the rapidfire questions spewing from Kats mouth. Kat, the stunner sat opposite me with perfect dark skin and the inability to have a bad hair day, was my closest friend. We lived on the same street, drank at the same bar and both hated this small, slightly judgemental town equally. We bonded over the similarities in our lives - like both of us having fallen pregnant at a young age and being dealt the hand of having to raise our kids as single parents. Life was fucking hard sometimes (well, nearly all the time), but my son, Levi, and Kat, made this life worth living.

“Jesus Christ, ok! The date was ok.”

“Uh oh. ‘Ok’? That means it was awful, right?” she raised an eyebrow.

I took a gulp of my coffee.

“The date was ok. But he was…. Seriously not my type. He was too…perfect?” I winced as the words left my mouth, fully aware of how utterly ridiculous that sounded.

“Girl, ‘too perfect’? What the fuck kind of excuse is that?” Kat snorted slightly into her latte.

“I know, I know. But he reminded me of a Ken doll, ya’know? With his white jeans and his Armani sweater over his shoulders - that’s not really… me. The dude gets more manicures than I do. Plus he drives a Fiat Panda. Levi wouldn’t be caught dead getting in and out of one of those.”

“You can’t use your sons taste in cars to dictate the men in your life. That’s a low blow and you know it.”

“Ok then, you go out with Robert and tell me about all the kale facts that you never wanted to learn.” I leant back on the couch, clutching my coffee with both hands to bring some warmth to my fingertips. Kat did the same opposite me, leaning back in the plush armchair as we both took a second to glance out of the large café windows. This was our happy place, right here. It was the place we would come to when we first met and the boys were still in diapers. It was our happy place for the last nine years, and we would come here for every situation: be it a breakup, a catch-up, to discuss terrible sexual encounters or dire situations that need insane back-up plans. But we mostly came here to people-watch. Being the young, single moms that we were, we were constantly under the scrutiny of the small town, having every decision judged by the perfect Jeep-driving soccer moms and the old ladies from church. When we came here, to sit by this window in these comfy-as-fuck couches, it was our turn to do a little judging.

“Vicki Priestley isn't fooling anyone with those sunglasses,” I said, taking another sip of coffee as I watched the thin peroxide blonde across the street repeatedly wipe her nose with the back of her hand.

“Right? We get shunned for…well… fuck all, yet that Paris wannabe can snort coke on a Tuesday school run and everyone turns a blind eye? What a joke.”

“Amen to that,” we watched her for a few more seconds as she climbed behind the wheel of some monstrous four by four and sped off down the road.

“Did you hear that Mrs. Harris caught Mr. Harris with a young mistress? Apparently she works at the bank.”

“Oh my GOD yes I heard!” Kat exclaimed, leaning forward, “and as revenge she put Nair in his shampoo - he's completely hairless, even his eyebrows are gone.”

We both snickered as we raised our mugs.

“To Mrs. H for taking no shit.”

Conversation flowed as topics ranged from the new dessert parlour that opened last week down the road to the extortionate price of kids' Motocross gear.

“I mean the bikes are so tiny, why do they have to cost that much?”

“You're preaching to the choir babes, Toby just outgrew his boots for the third time this year,” Kat grimaced at the thought of how much money she'd spent already.

“Ouch, they're like what? Eighty bucks a pair?”

“Yup.”

“Yeah well, I had to get Levi a new helmet after that little dickhead from the tournament last month crashed into the side of him. That boy was more upset about the stickers he lost than the bruises he got,” I shook my head with a smile on my lips. Kat did the same.

“That's a tough kid you've got there.”

I sighed.

“Yeah I know. Despite never having met him, he's so much like his dad. It's a little concerning actually,” I laughed nervously, instantly regretting bringing up Levi’s father in front of Kat. I glanced up at her, taking a sip of my coffee in an attempt to hide behind the mug. The wiggling of her eyebrows being an indicator of her impending wrath.

“That man is the reason why you’re never satisfied with your dates. He set that bar waaaay too high.”

I scoffed. “He did not. We were young and he just swept me off my feet a bit, that’s all; with that ‘give ‘em Hell’ attitude and handsome face. Plus he had a great car.”

“Last time you said his face was ‘gorgeous’,” Kat cupped her face and fluttered her eyelashes, puckering her lips. I threw a sugar packet at her which she batted right back at me.

There was a moment of quiet as we both looked out the window again, my mind unable to stop itself from racing through old memories.

“Do you think he’ll ever come calling?” Kat asked, some sincerity to her tone. I sighed and slumped back further on the couch.

“I highly doubt it. He doesn’t even know that Levi exists. I tried calling him a few years back but some guy John W. had that number instead. I gave up after that. Plus, he had this kinda dangerous job, and normally if he showed up it was because something was going to go down,” I paused, looking into the dark liquid in my cup, “It’s probably a good thing that he hasn’t just shown up.”

“You say that, but you still have that photo you took together on your vanity.”

I shot her a look, pursing my lips and pinching my brows as she laughed, knowing she'd stumped me there. I quickly downed my coffee and checked my watch before standing and grabbing my bag.

“Come on, let's stop interrogating me and go pick up the boys before all Hell breaks loose at the track.”

“Mom it wasn't my fault, I swear.”

I slammed the car door closed and turned to the boy who stood close enough to be my shadow.

I turned around to face him with a stern expression, “so you did do it? After I called that boys mom a liar? LEVI.”

Levi, my son, looked close to tears, his bottom lip trembling.

“Mom, I'm so sorry! I'll never do it again!”

I narrowed my eyes at him before sighing, already exasperated, throwing the car keys into my bag.

“Did you at least stick to the golden rule?”

His answer was a vigorous nod, the tremble in his lip disappearing.

“‘Never throw the first punch; throw the second and finish the fight,’” he recited the words like a prayer.

“And…?”

“‘Always claim self defence.’”

I smiled and ruffled his soft brown hair.

“Good boy. What started the fight anyway?” I asked, guiding him to walk through the parking lot towards that new dessert parlour.

“He said I was weird for not having a dad.”

I looked down at him, eyes softening and I lifted a hand to rub his shoulder. It wasn't the first time he'd had this argument, and it likely won't be the last. Kids can be assholes. “And then he hit me when I said ‘at least my mom's boobs are real.’”

“Levi!” I stopped in my tracks and looked at him, mortified. I didn't even know where to start with that one. “Where-”

“Jamie from math class told me what ‘implants’ were… and he said that Brad's mom had them.”

He looked up at me innocently, and I knew then that he didn't fully grasp what he'd said to Brad - the kid he'd just punched between the eyes. I sighed for the umpteenth time and started walking again.

“Whatever, just… don't say that to anyone again, ok? You're gonna make me look like a terrible parent.”

“Ok mo- whoa! Look at that car!” It was Levi's turn to stop dead in his tracks as he stood in awe of the sleek black car parked by the sidewalk.

A black Chevy Impala.

“Oh wow,” my words came out slightly breathless, my mind suddenly racing to him and the conversation I'd had with Kat earlier that afternoon.

“So cool!” Levi gushed, walking up close to it but not close enough to touch.

“Yes, very cool. Now let's go inside before they run out of ice cream,” I ushered him to the door, reflexively looking over my shoulder, not knowing if I even wanted to see who could possibly be in the area.

The bell jingled as we walked in and Levi ran up to the counter, pressing his forehead to the glass. My eyes scanned the menu and I was pleasantly surprised to see they served coffee.

“What do you fancy kiddo?” I ruffled his hair again and waited for him to decide, and it wasn't long before he'd made up his mind. After ordering, we headed towards a small table-for-two at the edge of the room, and as Levi slumped down in his chair something familiar caught my attention.

A voice.

My heart quickly became erratic in my chest and my palms grew sweaty. I looked in the direction the voice had come from and was met with a slap in the face from memory lane.

There he was; the same wicked grin and mischievous eyes that had burned themselves into my memory. He dressed the same as he did nine years ago - right down to the necklace and leather jacket. He was engrossed in a conversation with another man, who looked slightly younger than himself, all whilst digging into a stack of waffles.

“Mom?”

The sound of Levi's voice snapped me out of the stunned fog I was caught up in and I quickly sat down, trying my best to focus on my son and not the man who was sitting only a few feet behind him. Levi looked like he was about to ask another question when a giant chocolate sundae and a coffee appeared at the table. I heard the waitress challenge Levi to finish the whole thing, but it was like I was listening to the world through water. My mind wouldn't stop racing. He's here. Do I talk to him? Will he remember me? Do I tell him about Levi? I hurriedly pulled my phone from my bag and sent her a hasty message before turning back to the boy in front of me, convincing a smile to appear on my lips.

“If you have room in that black-hole stomach of yours then you definitely could've finished your veggies earlier at dinner.”

He smirked slightly, like he always did when he knew he was getting away with murder, and it almost took my breath away. I saw the same smirk grace the lips of the man in the booth behind him. The mans gaze shifted to the side and when his eyes met mine - the same vibrant twists of green and gold that I have tattooed on my memory - I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart leaping in my chest as I tore my eyes away. I clutched my coffee cup, staring intently at the dark swirling liquid, praying to anyone or anything that I'd find the answers to my troubles in the bottom of this mug. The prickling on my skin was unshakable, like his eyes were on me and I was trapped under his intense observation, unable to breath. Minutes felt like hours, and eventually he and his companion stood before heading to the door. The moment they were gone with the bell signalling their departure, the air gushed from my lungs as I dropped my head into my hands, earning myself a confused look from my son. I offered him a reassuring smile which he accepted before returning to shovelling ice-cream into his face.

Just when I thought I was safe, I looked up and locked eyes with him. Our eyes locked through the window just as he opened the car door, leaning on it. It was like time froze, and for a few moments, despite my earlier urgency to not make eye contact, I was now unable to look away. My breath caught in my throat as a smirk pulled at his lips before he ducked down into the driver's seat, slamming the car door closed. I found myself chewing on my bottom lip as he tore out of the parking lol, that familiar rumble of the engine practically rattling the windows and, despite the noise, it was a comforting sound.

Once they were out of sight and the impala could no longer be heard, I sighed, pushing my hair off my face and running my hands through my hair. As Levi polished off the last of his ice-cream, my phone buzzed on the table. Opening it and reading the message, a small wave of relief washed over me as Kat confirmed that Toby would be at his dad's for once so she could come over to drink wine and discuss very important topics. She hasn't got a clue what I need to vent about yet, but I feel like tonight is going to be a very long night.

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Next Chapter: Chapter 2

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x female!reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you smut

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freyito · 9 months ago

Note

hiii first of all i just love your drabbles 🫶🫶🫶 Can i request mk1 characters reactions when their partner is hurt? yk when they found out that their s/o is in the hospital or sth. You can write for whoever you want but I would love if you include Raiden, Johnny Cage, Kenshi and Syzoth in this ❤️❤️

✭ pairing(s): liu kang, bi-han [sub zero], kuai liang [scorpion], johnny cage, kenshi takahashi, kung lao, raiden, zeffeero [rain], tomas vrbada [smoke], baraka, syztoh [reptile], havik, general shao, shang tsung, reiko (seperate) x gn reader

✧ a/n: thank u smmmmmm anon!!! i hope this doesnt sound egotistical or anything, but i really cant get enough of people telling me they love my writing, it's really affirming and i will always appreciate it ! it's always like... woah.... really......

this is the perfect request, but i am gonna put my own little spin on this and make it pretty angsty, whoops :P super sorry this one took so long too.... ough i put my heart and soul into it. i hope i am not only tumblr user freyito to you, but an angst writer too... well most of these are angst. some are a little more fluffy and less dire... also just could not for the life of me figure out what to write for geras' so no geras in this one :(

🗒 cw: gn reader, certain character's deaths, gore/blood, depiction of death, angst, in some you are close to death, stitching without painkillers in havik's, kidnapping in shang tsung's/mention of kidnapping in rain's, not proofread

✎ wc: 6.3k

ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏꜱ + ᴀ ʜᴜʀᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⎯Liu Kang

Not much evokes emotion in him. He is a god, he must been even with his feelings, and any shift in the balance could set so many things wrong. On the battlefield, there is no room for failure. With you, he's always been relatively neutral, he makes sure you know he loves you, and he's gentle with you. Yet, he keeps a distance. Liu Kang harbors a fear deep down, that his actions, his status, will bring you to your end. He's a sought out target, after all.

So, when those fears come true, Liu Kang can't help but feel his rage consume him. To watch Shang Tsung's claws dig deep into you, festering, plaguing your own strength. Ripping into you, decorating his hands in your warm blood. Shang Tsung had done this because of Liu Kang, he was so sure. Flames engulfed him, near incinerating the foot soldier he had been fighting. He approaches Shang Tsung, as you lay at his feet, struggling to breathe. Unforgivable. To do this to his starlight, Liu Kang will not make this mans death slow and savory, no. Within an instant, he pushes Shang Tsung's head through his own body, splitting the man in half, as well. Death is too merciful, but alas, that is not important, now.

Once the initial wave of anger washes off, adrenaline and logic set in. Liu Kang picks you up, he treats you as if you're porcelain. Just barely, as you struggle to stay conscious, you can hear him assuring you it's okay. That nothing else will happen. It is unclear whether he is saying this to you, or himself. Regardless, he leaves the battlefield quickly. He knows his comrades can handle the rest. But knowing that he is so close to losing you, as you bleed out within his arms, it is haunting. Every second counts, and he knows it. He entrusts your care to the medics at the Wu Shi academy, as much as he trusts them, he cannot bring himself to leave your side. For hours, he is still covered in your blood. His eyes do not leave your face, resting and peaceful, even with death knocking on your door.

Liu Kang is there every step of the way. When you are in recovery, he makes sure to attend every session. He brings you books, something to keep you occupied on the days where you are stuck in bed. Regrettably, he can't enjoy a lot of alone time with you, because duty calls. He'd love nothing more than to spend every waking moment with you, but he still has stuff to attend to. However, when you are cleared to leave the academy, he keeps you close. Liu Kang is afraid it will happen, the image of you bloodied and ripped up still fresh in his mind. He's only a little protective, the thought of you going back into Kombat a little rattling. But he does not stop you. Because it makes him feel better knowing that you are back on your feet.

⎯ Bi-Han

As the grandmaster's partner, Bi-Han knows that you could be caught in danger. But he does not lament this. He does not celebrate it, either. He admires that you can fight, and he loves fighting by your side. He always looks out for you, of course he does. But he cannot be by your side in a large fight, he knows you can hold your own.

It is a sharp cry that draws his attention towards you. That is all he needs. Bi-Han prides himself on being an even and logical man, but the minute he sees A Tengu assassin's knife dug deep into your ribs, he snaps. Within an instant the battlefield grows colder, and the second you blink, the assassin already has his spine ripped out and shattered. A little bit of a flashy display for a man like him, but he wastes no time in bathing in the glory of his kill. He was lucky enough that the fight was nearing an end, the last of the Tengu clan that was sent out were either retreating or being taken care of.

Off you go to the medics of the Lin Kuei, and he insists you are priority. The one thing Bi-Han was unfair with was you, near fighting with the medics to tend to your wounds. Your blood paints his hands and upper torso, and he refuses to wash it off. Not until he knows that you have priority. When the medics relent, he finally disappears to wash off. He cannot stay by your side as much as he'd like, but he's not only restricted by his title, but his emotions. He takes a couple minutes outside, to calm down his own nerves. Bi-Han does not cry, but a few shaky breaths escape him as he tries to calm himself down. His mind races with every possible outcome, ultimately landing on the worst.

But, Bi-Han's thoughts do not come to fruition. The medics have worked their magic, and you are on the path to recovery. As much as he'd love to be with you, he cannot. But, he does send you a bunch of gifts. Letters, mainly. Small incentives for you to recover quickly, but he sends in flowers frequently, as well. The days he does visit you, he is a softer man. He's especially gentle with you around your ribs. He keeps a very close eye on you during missions once you are out of recovery. He doesn't mean to seem overbearing, but his position alone paints a big ol' target on your head. This attack was the first that brought that to his attention.

⎯ Kuai Liang

Fighting alongside a pyromancer is tricky, to say the least. There's a lot of variables to account for, and aside from that, Kuai Liang can't really keep an eye on you in certain instances. This was one of them, a rather messy battle, one where he couldn't keep track of you. Not that it mattered, he knew you were strong enough to hold your own.

However, it is a stray spark that leads you to stumble back. You flinch, which drives you back into the sword of the enemy. When Kuai sees this… the world goes silent. Water stills, flame fizzle out, swords clash and the dull clang of steel against steel quiets. Only for the water to suddenly form a raging tide, the flames to burn brighter, and the steel fades against the sound of a brilliant flame. In your fading vision, you see your partner's kusarigama impale your attacker's jaw, and pull it clean off. It is a sight he will regret later.

When the battle is over and the medics have taken you away, all Kuai Liang finds himself doing is worry. Pacing constantly, he messes up the mission report and has to have Tomas or someone else from the Shirai Ryu. He can recount things normally without a hitch, but knowing that it was him and his own ‘reckless’ use of his pyromancy with you in such close proximity makes him trip over his words, and even his thoughts. With what little free time he has, he’s pacing outside your cot, frequently checking in on the medics and the progress, until they ultimately have to push him away. Which calms him down, somewhat.

When the medics assure him that everything is fine, and that you are on the path to recovery, he’s much more relieved. He’s a lot less tense, and he’s a lot more coherent. He’s able to compose himself. Granted, he tends to sneak off (when appropriate) to check on you. He really just loves talking with you afterwards, he doesn’t want to bring up any unpleasant memories or thoughts (particularly what you saw before you blacked out), but there will always be a point where you have to talk about it. He’ll also ramp up his affection. The entire ordeal (while he knew what would come with forming the Shirai Ryu) made him realize that maybe he takes you for granted. Kuai Liang has been surrounded by death, sure, but for some reason, when it comes to those he loves… it is hard to understand that life is fleeting.

⎯ Johnny Cage

Johnny is used to deaths and his partner being hurt… on screen. He’s so used to the dramatized version, where his stage partner dies in his arms, and he wails real loud. He’s blissfully unaware that it could, in fact, happen to you in real life. He likes to think of himself as a great source of protection, believes no harm will come your way, not when you’ve got just a big, strong, handsome hunk around. And one of Earthrealm’s Defenders. As much as he’s grown, he still needs to learn a few lessons from the world.

And he’s in for a reality check. There are some unsavory characters out there, ones that aren’t too happy about his status as a whole. All he gets is a call from the hospital and a nice little greeting from officers. The only things he can make out in his newfound panic is ‘attempted murder’, and he’s REELING. He wasn’t there, he reminds himself. He doesn’t know what went down. Officers are still trying to figure it out. In his hazy and reckless state, he goes to his best friend.

Kenshi helps ease his nerves, and gives him a couple of LOGICAL ideas. Considering Shang Tsung had wormed his way into Kenshi’s life to steal Sento (and ultimately got his ass beat), he brings it up. Which leads to a whole meeting with Liu Kang, Raiden, and Kung Lao. To discuss the possible threats, and the future. Johnny cannot sit still that meeting, he’s practically bouncing off the walls, asking what this means for you. Every single question is about you, and you alone. Liu Kang dismisses him, and he practically speeds off to the hospital.

Johnny relaxes when he’s able to finally enter your room,– after a lot of arguing with the doctors about visiting hours– but his mind still spins. How could he let this slide? He should’ve been there, right? Regardless of how much blame he puts on himself, (which it was never his fault to begin with) he’s sat by your bed, sulking. From the police report, it’s clear that it was AT LEAST linked to Shang Tsung, but that’s no longer his problem. He gets you anything from the cafeteria if you ask, and he brings you flowers every. damn. day. He’s got so many gifts coming your way, that when you get discharged, you’re practically smothered by all the gifts he got you as an ‘apology’. When you ask him what he means by an apology, he doesn’t say a single word. Johnny’s very on top of your medication, he’s soooo very delicate with you, he almost condemns you to bedrest. But with enough pushback, you’re able to be up and about; but that doesn’t mean he won’t be worrying over you for quite a while. Even if Liu Kang assures him that it won’t happen again.

⎯ Kenshi Takahashi

Kenshi is aware of the danger that surrounds him and his existence in general. He’s protective of you, of course. And he knows full well that you could be swept up into the mix of the Yakuza, and his work with Liu Kang and the OIA. But, you yourself had fought hard for the relationship and made it clear that you could care less about the potential dangers; even if he felt a little frazzled at all the dangers out there. All the hands that could be grabbing at you, the guns, the knives, the weapons that would be pointed at you the minute you were spotted next to him. You didn’t care.

Yet, when he gets the call that you were involved in some crime, landing you in the hospital, his mind omits all the other details. Aside from the hospital you’re at. He even skips over the fact that it was Jax calling him. Part of him wants to cry. And he probably would, if he could. But he tries to keep himself composed. Whatever he’s been occupied with is now a distant memory, other agents can take over. As calm as he looks on the outside, there’s a war raging within him. He knew this would happen. Ever since he felt feelings for you, he knew.

When he finds you at the hospital, Sento left behind, he’s scared. He doesn’t know if he should be grateful that he can’t see you, or if he should lament over it. While the doctors had described your injuries as non-fatal, and that you’d recover in no time, Kenshi’s mind has already spun a horrifying image, but once the doctors have left, he can hear your soft breathing underneath all the bustle of the machines. And it soothes him. Only then does he find some peace of mind, you are safe, and the danger has passed. Somewhat. When his worry starts to dissipate, he remembers that Jax had actually called him first, not the hospital. When he calls Jax back, the first thing he says is that he’s taking time off, and Jax doesn’t protest. They discuss what happened and that it is now a government matter, and something that expands past OIA boundaries. The short version of the conversation is that someone from a different timeline had managed to worm their way into this one, and harm you. Someone with striking similarity to himself.

Now that Kenshi has calmed down and knows you’re safe, he understands why the nurses and the law enforcement seemed tense around him. It unnerves him, to say the least. That another version of himself would hurt you. His heart, his guiding light. It’s also an entirely new threat that he hadn’t accounted for. Once discharged from the hospital, you have all of his attention. He’s oh so gentle with you, like any little touch and you’ll crack. He does every chore around the house for weeks, until you’ve fully healed. He cooks a lot (with the help of Sento), even bathes you (despite your protests). It’s his way of an apology for what happened, and not just that, but an apology for being with him. He holds immense regret over this, knowing that– even if it was another him from another timeline– he did this.

⎯ Kung Lao

Kung Lao is… protective, alright. And that often gets swept up within his cockiness. Of course, you do feel pretty safe with him. Maybe not around the hat, but you do feel safe around him. Aside from his interesting choice of weapon, he’s a great martial artist. And also just someone who’s really nice to cuddle with. He’s a Shaolin Master, of course he’s going to be a horrifying opponent.

And, there would be hell to pay if anyone hurt his love. He isn’t just all bark. Even the thought of you being hurt has him seething, he tends to overthink. There’s a lot of things that have made him realize that he may be a high value target– even if he can’t help but think he’s done nothing to get to that point. But, under Liu Kang, and just the title ‘Defender of Earthrealm’, there’s some sort of pride that lingers. Something that makes him want to challenge anyone and everyone he can, tell them to ‘bring it on’.

But not at the expense of you. The one thing bigger than his ego? His heart. So, when you stride into Wu Shi Academy,– though, limp is the better term– all cut up and bruised, barely able to speak or see, there’s a rage that burns within Lao. One that even Raiden hasn’t seen. He can’t help but run his mouth about how he’ll teach whoever the hell got to you a lesson. But he’s also despondent, he barely touches his food, he barely shows up to Madame Bo’s… and that makes her worried, until she learns about what happened to you from Raiden. Now not only does the culprit have a bastard with a really sharp hat after them, but the most badass little old lady after them, too. Madame Bo loves you like one of her own, really. She dotes on you, where she’ll normally scold the boys. You are her golden child.

Ultimately, their shared hunt leads to a dead end. Your mind is too hazy to remember anything aside from a silhouette, before getting beaten senseless. As much as Lao seems hellbent on tracking the culprit down, he ultimately gives up when you ask him. But, as you recover, he seems to be in much better spirits. He likes to curl up next to you at night (despite the monks telling him not to), just to reassure him that you’re safe. And Madame Bo arguably puts on more of a show than Lao does. She treats you with free food every day of your recovery, and when you’ve got clearance to be walking around without supervision again, she’s made a FEAST for you. While it feels all sunshine and rainbows once you’ve recovered, Kung Lao works tirelessly to get better. He blames himself, mainly for the fact that no matter what he did, he couldn’t find the one who did this to you. Even if you tell him outright that it is okay. It’s another mark on his list of failures, to him.

⎯ Raiden

When he got the amulet, Raiden didn’t exactly have it down. It took a great deal of focus and strength to hone it, more than he’s known. Sure, there have been some points where it feels like he’s got it down, like he can actually control the lightning. But before the tournament, he had a hard time controlling it, and spent many days doing his best to hone this new power. It was exhausting, and took a toll on him, both physically and mentally. He might have been trained nearly his whole life in martial arts, but that doesn’t necessarily correlate to any sort of magic.

However, it is his connections that ground him. Kung Lao, yes. But you, mainly. Normally, his training sessions with the amulet consist of him trying not to fry Lao, while you sit by and encourage him. A positive environment encourages progress, right? That’s what Raiden thinks, anyway. And all things considered, he’s doing well today. The lightning had been easily tamed, Lao hadn’t been zapped, and all was well.

While training with a staff, however, one wrong move sends a strike horrifyingly close to you. You barely register what happened, the loud bang by your right is followed by a popping feeling, like you’ve been in high altitude, a sharp pain through your eardrum, and then a dull ringing in your right ear. Raiden comes running up to you near immediately, checking over you. Your mind spins at how fast things happened, so you can’t necessarily explain clearly to him what you felt. Before you can collect yourself, Raiden is suddenly set on high-alert, and hauling you away to the medics at Wu Shi. Even Lao is a little confused as he follows after the two of you.

At the medics, you’re able to piece everything together. Ruptured eardrum, and Raiden can’t help but blame himself for it. When you’re getting checked over, Raiden is pacing outside, and Lao is trying desperately to calm him down. It had been a fear of his since the very start of his training. But as time went on and you went unharmed… it started to slip into the back of his mind. He feels horrible for letting go of that worry, for letting it happen. And when the medics let you go and tell you that it’ll heal in a couple weeks, you do your best to comfort him next to Lao. When it’s just you two, however, Raiden is a lot more calm. The adrenaline of the moment got to him earlier. Still, all he feels he can do is apologize, as much as you assure him it’s fine. Over the next couple of weeks, he’s very, very mindful of himself. He’s practically banned you from his training sessions, he makes sure to approach you from your left side or make his presence known if he’s coming up from behind you.

⎯ Zeffeero

There’s not much Rain has to worry about in his day-to-day life, even with his status as High Mage. He knows his title holds weight, but he believes that if he spends all his time worrying, something will happen sooner or later, and he’ll be more of a mess if it comes true. He’s more worried about his actual duties, coming home to you (almost) every night, and what books he will read on his days off.

That being said, he isn’t able to spend all his time with you. Which is a bummer, really. His job isn’t necessarily ‘remote’. He doesn’t worry over you too much, he knows you’re strong enough to cover for yourself. And those who are against him and the royalty should be smarter and focus their attention towards him and Sindel. Keyword, should.

So, when Zeffeero is met by the couriers during his duties, he’s confused. The only words he can make out in their frantic speech is your name, and hostage. Which snaps him out of his normally calm demeanor. But, regardless, he does his best to stay collected. He gets the couriers to explain the situation clearly, that Sindel’s detractors had chosen you out of all people to make an example. The good news is that it was dealt with just as quickly as you had been taken away, criminals don’t really get their way so easily in Sun Do, especially.

But that doesn’t mean they didn’t do a number on you. Rain immediately puts his work to the side and meets you at the infirmary. You’re pretty beat up, a couple bruises on your arms and a gash on your forehead, and the medics inform him that you’ll need to stay here for at least another week, you’ve gotten a couple of bruised ribs, as well. For the next couple of days, he is by your bedside, perfectly on time when the medics open up visiting hours. He’ll even do his work by your side, filling countless journals and going through way too many reports as he does.

⎯ Tomas Vrbada

Stealth missions require the utmost focus, especially ones of this caliber. Tomas is confident in your ability, so he doesn’t worry unnecessarily over you. But his mind can tend to wander sometimes. Still, he does his best to remain on track, stalking through the rampart. It was a simple recon mission, keep an eye on the territory. It had been left abandoned after the events of Armageddon, but there had been indications that Bi-Han was looking to start something there again. Considering the cyberization of the Lin Kuei, Kuai Liang and Tomas agreed to simply check it out, make sure nothing was being done.

And they were right to be suspicious. Either out of paranoia, or a hunch, Bi-Han had sent scouts as well. This makes the operation a lot more high-risk, both parties may be aware of each other, but have no idea where the other is. It looks as if there’s a rather hefty amount of spies in the rampart as well. As Tomas stalks through the tops of the wall, searching for anything slightly out of place, he gets the sudden feeling that he’s being watched.

Just as he raises his head, he hears the thwip of a bow string, causing him to jerk away from his position. An arrow flies past his head, a few centimeters from it, and as he follows it’s trajectory, he sees you, across the rampart. Fighting with two ninjas, doing your best to, well, stay alive. Realizing that you two are horribly outnumbered, he completely ignores the archer behind him. Utilizing his practical magic, he wastes no time disappearing and taking off. It’s not as easy as it sounds, practically throwing himself off the wall and doing what he can to make it across the rampart. As adrenaline rushes through him, his actions are near mindless, reckless, jumping over stray ballistas and rubble. Does he know that this could put his life at risk? That it puts the mission at risk? Yes. But there’s a tiny voice inside of him that screams at him, tells him you are much more important than the mission. He got the intel anyways.

Things blur together for Tomas after that. He can’t remember exactly how he reached you, he can’t remember what he did with the two ninjas, the only thing that brings him back to the present moment is the pained breaths of yours and heaved gasps. He’d been singing some lullaby that he couldn’t remember the name of, his voice cracking here and there. His throat is raw, blood pouring from a head wound, and he can’t tell if the blood coating his arms is from you, who lay motionless (but thankfully breathing) in his arms, the ninjas, or his own. He’s barely noticed that he’s made his way to Harumi’s house. Not to Kuai Liang– to Harumi. Which, eventually, the knowledge that you’ve been hurt and that the Lin Kuei are pushing to claim territory over the Rampart. When Harumi guides the two of you to a room while she calls for the medics, all Tomas can do is blame himself. He’s spaced out the entire time, the only thing that snaps him out of his catatonic state is when they try to separate the two of you. He doesn’t let them. He doesn’t let anyone separate you from him. He’s too scared that he will lose you.

⎯ Baraka

While the restrictions on those inflicted with Tarkat have been lifted slightly, there is still some public animosity towards Tarkattens. And some of those people tend to direct their anger at those who support this decision, or those close to those afflicted with Tarkat. And unfortunately, you just so happen to be one of those people.

You aren’t entirely vocal about your relationship with Baraka, but you aren’t entirely quiet about it, either. The only reason Baraka doesn’t talk about you two is because he is afraid of what could happen to you. It doesn’t matter if the public’s opinion will turn, if there will ever be a cure, he has always been distant. He loves you, and good god, he’d do anything to even hold your hand. But he is afraid. He can’t help but be afraid of what will happen to you.

And rightfully so, when you are visiting Sun Do with Baraka. It’s a routine visit, to talk about how to integrate precautions for those with Tarkat, and how the vaccine progress is coming along. It feels like hours in a stuffy room, talking with Mileena. Eventually, you step out for a moment, to get some fresh air, and to clear your head. Unfortunately, one of the people against the aid for Tarkattens takes this as an opportunity to attack you in broad daylight.

Luckily, you don’t have to suffer much. A couple of kicks and hits that have left a couple of bruises, but the Constabulary was able to pull them off you quickly. The commotion brings Mileena and Baraka out, which leaves you feeling a little flustered. Needless to say, the talks for that day are cut short, and Baraka spends his time worrying about you. He asks you to stay in Sun Do for a while, that he can handle the talks himself now.

⎯ Syzoth

Syzoth’s biggest fear is Shang Tsung. Even after all is said and done, the fear still lingers. With his past, he can’t help but worry, especially about you. He wants to imagine a future with you, and he’s more than content with the days you two spend together, but he will never be able to shake the idea of his happiness being ripped from him again. While he is still all cuddly with you, there is something always gnawing at him. An eternal dread.

And his fears come true, in some way. He had to leave home for a couple of days, out on official business. It was nothing major, nothing that would pull him from you for longer than a week. Integrating yourself along with Zatterans was a challenge alright, something you didn’t mind facing. Syzoth had said it was a good way to get them used to humans, to earthrealmers.

However, when he comes back home, he is greeted by you, with a black eye, and multiple, bandaged, gashes down your arms. You smile at him warmly, despite your injuries, which have had at least two days to heal. He’s stunned, and after a moment of silence, he’s all over you, asking question after question. Despite what he asks, he knows what the Zatterans have done to you.

He tells himself he should’ve known, as they had killed those with his mutation, he should’ve known that they would’ve treated you the same. You can’t give him exact details, you can’t even give him a description. It happened all too fast, and you were helpless in the moment. He spends the next week by your side, never leaving, unless it was for food, or necessities. When you two are out, he’s very diligent about his surroundings, and those around them. Most of the Zaterrans express their apologies to you, even if it wasn’t them, which makes Syzoth even more wary about who he should be keeping an eye on.

⎯ Havik

Danger comes with the territory of dating Havik. Yeah, he keeps you close, but he’s wanted. And he’s well aware, he tends to get himself in fights quite often. If you wanna participate? Hells yeah, he’s all in. But if you’d rather sit back, hide away, anything like that, he doesn’t mind. Even if he prefers a more active partner on the battlefield. Just because he’s got his anarchic ways and enjoys a little bloodbath every now and then, doesn’t mean he’s thrown care and (at least) sympathy into the wind. Granted, it’s hard to coax that reaction out of him.

But, it’s different with you. His heart; quite literally. He’d do anything for you, he’s (almost) as obedient as a dog. But when he gets to watch you in kombat… it’s a treat. He’s like actually drooling. He’s got a twisted sort of smile on his face when you slash through enemies. Sometimes just the thought of it makes him blush. He’s a little fucked up, actually! But for a being who thrives on chaos, that’s the norm.

When it comes to you being injured, if it’s just a little nick, (which is categorized very loosely; can be deep cuts, slashes, not just a scrape) he doesn’t find any reason to retaliate against your assailant. Havik is proud to have a lover that can take care of things themselves, but that doesn’t mean he won’t leap at the chance to tear someone limb from limb. Especially if you’re wounded near fatally. That’s when any semblance of humanity leaves him. He’s brutal, horribly so, and for once, you have to turn your head away.

When the fight’s done, Havik returns to you, covered in blood and viscera. He made it quick, as much as he would’ve enjoyed making it slow and painful, he knows that time is of the essence. Given his situation, he can’t really take you anywhere. So a little impromptu ‘healing’ session is underway. Some alcohol (that’s 100% not stolen) and some pressure to make sure the bleeding stops and that you don’t get an infection. After, he’s got to stitch up the wound. As he does so, he’s murmuring praises,– a rare thing from him, really– doing his best to make this as painless as possible.

⎯ General Shao

There is no greater place than the battlefield to Shao. It is something he grew up on, and to be fighting side by side with his beloved, it fills him with pride. Of course, he knows the dangers, he knows there’s a target on his back, but he could care less. He almost revels in it. Yes, he’ll worry about you, but he also knows that you can handle yourself.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t above teaching those who choose to hurt you a lesson. He’s sensible, he’s strong, and he’s just a little, teensy weensy bit protective of you. Of course, you can handle fights on your own. But it’s when the enemies got you in a tough spot, managed to daze you, anything like that. That’s when Shao lets hell break loose.

A sword pierces through your arm, and while it’s not fatal, the minute Shao sees it, he’s raging. A bloody warpath follows him as he marches towards the assailant, the opponent he had been fighting long forgotten. He can’t gloss over an injury like that, he is unsure if they had cut through the brachial artery. So he makes it quick, practically splitting them in two as you watch. The battle continues to rage on, but all Shao can do is huff and encourage you to make an escape,– mainly because he’s afraid you might bleed to death– even if you don’t want to.

At the end of it all, you oblige, retreating and making it to the field medics. You are glad to hear that they did not cut through your brachial artery, and that you won’t bleed to death. But the gash in your arm still needs treatment. You’re stuck in that tent for quite a bit, mourning the loss of a good fight. That is, until Shao interrupts. He’s barely pulled back the tarp of the entrance, and he’s already looking for you. And when he spots you, lying down with a defeated look, bored as hell, he’s at your side within an instant. He needs to know the damage, if it’ll take you out of combat, etc etc. He quietly worries over you, which is quite charming in its own way.

⎯ Shang Tsung

Shang Tsung is no pushover. He may be despised, he may have been outcast, but that doesn’t mean he’ll stand there and take it. Especially when it comes to you. He’s a bit of a drama queen, sure, but he’s charming. Even after everything, it seems like people won’t forgive him. They aren’t wrong to leave him unforgiven, either.

But, their anger should be pointed towards him. So when he receives a letter for ransom via courier, he’s rightfully pissed. How dare they take his sunshine away from him, all because of what he’s done. What he’s done. And to try and rip him off, as well. You aren’t worth a mere 50,000 koins! You’re worth at least 5mil! Needless to say, he’s fuming.

What’s he going to do? Ask the Constabulary to help? No! He’s more than capable of handling it himself. A little dirt on his hands never hurt anybody. Time is short, so he rushes over the details. A couple sleepless nights spent scouting, collecting any sort of information, and he’s off to a shabby little shack in the wastes. The audacity of these people to not only take you from him, demand 50k koins, but also keep you in some run-down place! As much as he’s nitpicking what they’ve done to you, he’s doing it to calm himself down. Yeah, he’s got this in the bag, but any one taking his love from him, especially with malicious intent, makes him scarier than his most evil counterparts.

It is there where Shang Tsung finds out the kidnappers haven’t necessarily… prepared. Only two captors, and they’re dealt with easily. Torn into like meat, left to rot. He disregards their state, food for the vultures and whichever desperate soul wanders past. You’re a mess, head down, mind hazy, legs weak. He treats you like a knight saving his darling, picking you up bridal style. He coos at you, whispering things like ‘you’re alright’, and ‘I’m here now’ as he takes you away.

⎯ Reiko

It’s a calm evening, paired with a little sparring. As Reiko watches you train an over-ambitious rookie, he seems lost in thought. Why? It’s unsure. It feels like he’s simply lost his grip lately, he feels that he hasn’t been doing well in combat, and has actually regressed with his progress. Seeing you humble the soldier over and over again somehow reminds him of this, telling himself he needs to catch up on his training, build on his weaknesses.

It’s a subtle snap that brings him back to reality. It seems the trainee had enough of your teaching, and didn’t quite enjoy the lessons you were drilling– punching– into them. They’ve managed to pin you down, thanks to a very direct, very heated punch to the face. They’ve got you in a headlock, spouting nonsense at you like you’ve greatly offended them. You groan, so close to yelling out uncle. But, you’ve gotta admit, you like their fire. Even if it severely clouds their judgment.

Reiko is quick to pull them off of you, grabbing them by the nape as if they were a dog. It’s a little bit of a struggle, mainly the trainee squirming and protesting like a child who’s been denied candy. It’s shameful for him, but the very thought of the runt taking advantage of the moment to hurt you makes him believe they are unbefitting of a soldier. And it makes him a little pissed. He’s lecturing them, doing his best to hold back some very choice words. All the while you’re nursing your possibly broken nose, trying to get Reiko to let up on them. Eventually, you just shoo them away, and then give Reiko his own lecture. They’re your student, so they’ll get your discipline.

He’s not the best at consoling you, especially over something that he’s deemed ‘minor’. A quick ‘are you okay?’ and a nod is all he really gives you. But, after you’ve ended the training session early, and confirmed that your nose isn’t broken, Reiko picks up the opportunity to hone in his skills. Given the fact that you still had time left in your schedule, you take up his offer.

DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

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angelpuns · 1 month ago

Text

“ GET BACK!” Leo gripped his katanas tightly, backing into the corner. The lumbering, spiky creature before him grimaced, holding his claws out like Leo was some sort of spoiler animal.

“ Leo, hey, what's goin' on, buddy?” The creature asked, voice softer than expected. It made Leo hesitant, if only for a second.

But it must have been a ploy. A trick to trap him and-and do god knows what!

“ I'M NOT YOUR BUDDY,” Leo hissed, keeping his eyes open for any movement from the hulking creature. If there was an opening, he'd have to take it, otherwise he'd have to portal away. It didn't feel right to leave this creature in his room, though, so that would be a last resort, “TELL ME WHO- WHAT YOU ARE! NOW!”

The creature blinked in mock surprise and took a step back. Good. Maybe Leo could stun it and then go out the back way to his room. It wasn't a great plan, but it was all he had right now. Hell, maybe he could scare the thing all the way out the door and fight it in the lobby. Sure, it was a lot bigger than him, but he had two swords and it has nothing.

“Wh- it's me! It's Raph!” The creature raised its voice a little, then immediately softened it again, “it’s- you're safe, Leo, its just me. You're in the lair. We're all safe…”

It was holding its hands out again and took two steps forward. Leo backed further into the corner and cursed under his breath. This was the opposite of what he wanted.

“HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME!? WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM!?” He bit out, cycling through several more half-baked plans where he didn't have to portal and didn't mess up his room. He didn't want to leave this guy here to mess it up either if he could.

“ We're- we're brothers, remember? We explained it yesterday…. You were cursed by a witch and-”

Leo scoffed, “ that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! You've got 3 seconds to leave before I cut you to pieces!”

He’d always been more of a playful banter guy than a ‘threaten to literally kill you’ guy, but this was dire. There was literally a random, dangerous looking creature-guy in his home. He wasn't gonna rake any chances to be funny, not right now.

“Okay, okay. Let's just calm down, Leo….I really need you to take a deep breath and-and uh…name five things you see?” the guy - Raph, he'd said - was speaking even quieter, and getting even closer.

He took another step forward and Leo couldn't think- there was nowhere to run, he was trapped.

The creature reached forward slowly, mimicking slow breathing and Leo lashed out with his sword, barely nicking the guy’s arm with it. He either had tough scales or Leo was still too far to do any damage.

He hissed in pain, and Leo saw a bit of red there, but he couldn't wait to find out if he'd finally pissed this guy off.

He cut a portal beneath him and fell into it, heartbeat pounding his ears and electricity thrumming through his body. He heard a cut off “ LEO, WAIT-” before the portal closed and all he heard was the sounds if the city below him.

When he landed he was on a rooftop, somewhere far from his room and far from the creature. The sun was peeking above the horizon, a sudden chill making him shiver. Of course he couldn't have thought to put on a hoodie. Then again, he had been unexpectedly ambushed.

At least he'd gotten away without a scrape.

And not a moment too soon, because for a split second he'd seen two more guys in his doorway, each with shocked and then angry expressions. If he'd stayed even a second he'd be a goner, he just knew it.

For now, he was safe. Now to think of a plan.

----

Here's a blurb of that idea! I've written a chapter outline but writing has been hard lately, so I'm just gonna keep it in my docs for now. It might become a fic and it might become a comic, who knows. For now thus is what I've got. I just really wanted to write this bit :)

Part 1 | Part 3

#rottmnt #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt leo #rottmnt fanfic #rottmnt comic #rottmnt au #au

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froggiewrites · 1 month ago

Note

May I request some Luffy smut? Maybe including some aphrodisiac of some kind or influence from a devil fruit- I don't mind! I'd just love to see your ideas

I am SO sorry this has taken so long, thank you to everyone who's sent in requests for being so patient. Life has been kicking my ass this month so badly I haven't even been able to read any fanfic, let alone write it. Fingers crossed that the end of November is kinder than the beginning!

I'm really excited to have finally finished this request, I'm a big sucker for sex pollen/aphrodisiac stuff so this was really fun for me! Also, this was my first time writing for Luffy, so I hope I did him justice!

Need

Pairing: Luffy x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You find your Captain in dire need of a little help. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't provide? Warnings: Smut, Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac, Oral Sex (Reader receiving), Vaginal Sex Word Count: 1.8k

You should have known something was wrong when the ship was quiet. The Thousand Sunny is never quiet. There’s always the sound of clashing metal, of excited voices, of a song dancing its way across the deck. But you don’t hear a single noise outside of your door, nor do you see anyone as you pad your way outside.

You knew that you were docking soon, that your crew would leave to explore the island, but you didn’t expect them to leave without waking you up. You had been on night watch last night, so you certainly needed the rest, but you’re not used to them not at least momentarily waking you to let you know where everyone’s going.

Your surprise and confusion only grows as you hear someone crashing through the brush, and you see your Captain emerge, sprinting precariously toward the ship as though he’s being chased.

“Luffy?”

He doesn’t answer as he continues to rush forward, launching himself up onto the Sunny. Luffy stumbles onto the deck, teetering dangerously towards the railing. Before you can rush to catch him, his back hits the wood, and he lowers himself to the ground, legs splayed out. You can’t even tell if he can see you until he murmurs your name. He’s dripping with sweat, his face red.

You kneel down between his legs, leaning forward to try to get a good look at him. You can’t see any visible injuries, but clearly something is horribly wrong. “Are you okay, Luff?”

“No.” His voice is nothing but a whine, his eyes glassy and unfocused. “Need…something.”

“Something?”

Luffy glances around, pout on his face. “Something. Dunno what.”

You reach out to rest your hand on his forehead, which is burning so hot you almost pull it back in shock. He leans into your touch, giving off a soft hum. “You have a fever. Do you know what happened to you?”

“Nothing happened. We were all exploring, and we split into groups, and then…hm…I ate that fruit Zoro picked.”

Oh god. Zoro’s not exactly a botanist, or a survivalist, and for a single moment you believe with every fiber of your being that your dear friend has accidentally poisoned your captain. “What kind of fruit was it?”

“I dunno. It was sweet. And red.”

You sigh. “That doesn’t narrow it down at all. God, you would think that eating one mystery fruit in your life would be enough for you.”

His indignation beats out his discomfort for just a moment. “The first one went really well.”

You guess you can’t argue with that. “Can you remember anything else about it? We can rule out any devil fruit since you haven’t…exploded.”

“It was warm. And it made me wanna come find you.”

That makes you pause. “It…made you want to find me? Like specifically me?”

“Yeah.”

You have a bad feeling about this. “Do you know why you wanted me?”

He squints in concentration. “To…make it better.”

“How?”

He grabs your hand and places it back on his face. The sound he makes is borderline erotic. “Like this. This helps.”

The warmth against your hand, the moan that escapes your captain, the tent you can see growing in his pants, it all starts painting a very troubling picture. A very tempting one, but troubling nonetheless. “Luffy, are you warm anywhere in particular?”

“My stomach. And lower.” He pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around you and burying his face in your neck. His nose nuzzles against you, and he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent and sighing. His hands gently massage against your hips, reveling in the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips. “You’re soft,” he murmurs, lips brushing lightly against you. You clench your thighs involuntarily, a move you hope he doesn’t notice.

“You’re—ahh!” One of his hands moves up to your breast, squeezing your breast through your shirt, and he moans again at your squeak. “You’re not in your right mind, Luffy! I think that fruit was—ah!” His hand slides beneath your shirt, then your bra, and finally he pinches your nipple.

“Come closer.” His voice is thick as he pulls you onto his lap. “I think this is fixing it. Feels nice.” He jerks his hips, and you can feel his hardness rub against you. You try to keep your moan inside of your mouth, but when you do, he huffs, and ruts into you harder.

“Luffy!”

He grins. “That’s better.” As his hand begins to slide down the front of your pants you finally come to your senses and grab it, stopping him in his tracks. He blinks at you, a little clarity coming back to his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“You–you’re clearly under the influence of something, and I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want–”

“I want it.” The hand slides slowly down further. His voice grows hungrier, more desperate. “I need it.”

With the way he’s looking at you, pupils blown out and cheeks flushed, you believe him.

“Well if you really need it, I’d hate to deprive you, Captain.”

He grins, and before you know it, you’re pinned to the deck, your shirt and bra removed, Luffy’s teeth pressing insistently against your chest. He shoves his hand unceremoniously between your legs, making a small noise of satisfaction against you when you squeal. His fingers slide against your clothed clit, sending a shiver up your spine and slowly building the heat in your gut. He hums quietly, “It’s wet.” He looks up at you. “For me?”

You flush, before nodding quickly. You can’t bring yourself to look at him out of fear you’ll combust. You can see the sweat sliding down the muscles in his arms and chest, his tongue peeking out of his mouth as he pants. He looks even better than you’d ever dreamed, his eyes radiating a hunger than you never expected to be directed at you.

He quickly slides down your pants and underwear in a single motion, and in your surprise you press your thighs together, shielding yourself from him. He practically growls, “Stop that. Wanna taste.”

He pries your thighs apart, diving into you with the same enthusiasm he does everything else. His tongue laps at you with reckless abandon as he sloppily takes everything you’ll give him. His hands pull you impossibly closer, his nose brushing against your clit as his mouth explores. When you moan, he laughs against you, the rumble of it spreading across your sensitive skin and making your thighs tense around his head. You worry you’ll suffocate him, drown him, but he doesn’t seem to mind losing to you.

You can feel the tension building in your body, your legs shaking as you come closer and closer to your peak. Your hands grip the grass beneath you, one second away from ripping it out of the deck entirely. Some part of you is hyper aware of the fact you are out in the open, where anybody could see or hear, but the rest of you is lost in the pleasure of the moment, in the feeling of your Captain’s tongue against you. So you don’t try to stop your back from arching as your climax grows nearer, nor do you make any attempt to hold back your cry as you cum on your Captain’s face.

He pulls away from you, his face dripping, his pupils blown out, and his lips upturned into a dazed smile. You can’t bring yourself to look away as he slowly licks his lips, savoring every drop of you. Without a word, his mouth crashes into yours, and you can taste yourself on his lips. His hands roughly force down his pants, exposing his weeping cock to the cold air. He lets out a borderline whimper of relief against your lips, before pulling back just long enough to whisper, “Get ready.”

“Lu–ah!” He thrusts into you in one smooth stroke as his lips once again insistently press against yours, stealing your breath away. You can feel every inch of him as your body welcomes him in, clenching around his length. He moans into your mouth, the sound deep and wanton. He gives both of you little time to adjust before his hips are rocking, chasing the release he’s been so desperate for. He’s moving so quickly you’re surprised he was patient enough to even wait this long. His hands are borderline bruising on your hips, his teeth clacking against yours as your kiss grows rougher and rougher, as your dear friend and Captain pounds into you with the fervor of an animal in heat.

You can feel his muscles tense under your fingers as you pull him tighter. His breaths grow more ragged with every moment, and as he finally pulls away from your kiss you get to see the beautiful sight of the dam breaking as Luffy finally cums. His face is filled with a mix of relief, exhaustion, and affection as he gives a final few thrusts, your own climax coming not soon after. He collapses on top of you, and the weight is more comforting than crushing, though it steals your breath away anyway.

“I was right.” His voice is sleepy and slow, and you can’t help but picture the faces of your friends as they find you stripped bare and pinned to the deck below your Captain. Sanji might have a breakdown.

“Right about what?”

“I needed you. You fixed it.” His hand comes to rest on the back of your head affectionately, and he places a comically loud smooch on your forehead.

“So you’re all cured?”

“Ye–” He hums, and you can see an idea take him as his face scrunches up and his eyes shift away. “No. I think we’ll need to do this again.”

You can’t keep the smile out of your voice as you respond. “Oh yeah? How many more times, do you think?”

“I dunno. A lot. It could take a while.”

You laugh. “You know, I think we can do this as many times as it takes.”

He lets out an overjoyed laugh. “Awesome!”

“But first we should get inside before anyone else gets back. I don’t really want them to see me like this.”

He nods, quickly scooping you up and carrying you in the direction of his cabin. Before you can say anything else, you hear the voices of your crew coming closer, and you quietly urge him to rush.

You only get a moment of relief before you hear Zoro’s confused voice.

“Whose clothes are these?”

Your panic is quickly overshadowed by Luffy’s booming laugh rumbling through his chest, spreading the same infectious joy that he always does. The embarrassment is worth it, just to hear such a wonderful sound.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

#luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #one piece luffy #monkey d luffy #x reader #op

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nanaslutt · 1 year ago

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you are a god fr, I love everything you write, i owe you my life. pitching two ideas because i believe in you:

nanami getting sucked off under his desk while in a conference call

bossy dom gojo getting carried away and apologetically pampering afterwards

HEELLLOOOWWW???? the nanami one has me sweating

therefore we’re gonna start w that one >:)

tysm for the ask beb ily<3

contains: fem reader, oral(m!receiving), deepthroating, kinda exhibitionism (he’s on a call w/ his coworkers), voyeurism mentioned, dirty talk, degradation, hair pulling, choking, manhandling, established relationship, nanami is in love w reader, brat tamer!nanami, 1 spank & spanking mentioned

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

The balding mans unpleasent voice seeps through nanami's laptop speakers, saying something about project needing to be completed in the near future.

These completely unnessicary meetings--to quote nanami himself--never failed to give him the worst migraines. He wasted away enough of his precious life at the office listening to the graveling voice of his headache of a boss during the week, why should he be forced to spend his day off in a conference call with coworkers who's faces he barely regognizes?

Nanami was stressed beyond belief, which is exactly why you; being the sweet and thoughtful partner you are; were currently supporting him.

With your mouth.

Around his cock.

Under his desk.

Luckily for the blonde-haired man, he was only required to have his camera on. Nanami had an amazing poker face, but there would be no covering up the loud slurps and squelches emitting from your mouth that was currently stuffed full of his girthy cock.

He knew he should probably be listening to what his coworkers were conversing about, but although his face failed to show it, his brain wasn't exactly working in the most pristine condition at the moment.

His lashes fluttered, eyes drooping slightly when you took him deeper into your throat, cock jumping against the roof of your mouth when you gagged and hummed around him.

Grip tightened around his coffee mug as he brought it up to his face, faux taking a sip so he could hide his mouth behind the mug to let out a groan.

"Feel good Kento?" you ask sweetly. You were always so concerned for him. Not wasting any time when offering to get on your knees for your man after he remembered only ten minutes before, that he even had a meeting scheduled today. He was planning to stay in bed with you and cuddle all morning, dreams being shattered in real-time when his digital watch reminder chimed.

Groaning into your chest and apologizing profusely, he started to roll out of bed and make himself presentable as quick as possible. That's when you caught his larger hand in your own, and proposed your offer. Surprised when he actually accepted your proposal. Kento wasn't really one for risk, but he was in dire need of your company on this day.

You took any opportunity you got to spend time with Kento, him working a 9-5 and all. You did see a message on his phone the other day from a "gojo satoru", saying something about talking to "yaga" about coming back to work at a school? You didnt know if that meant you would see him more frequently or not. Maybe you would finally have time to go on that trip to Malaysia you always talked about together, but that was a discussion for another time.

Voices of his coworkers muffling more and more, their words sounding foreign to him as he focused on the warmth your mouth provided, already feeling his headache start to dissipate.

Your moans vibrating around his cock made him feel dizzy, but he looked totally put together. You were slightly irritated that he looked so unaffected. Wanting to see his facade crack, craving his deep moans to resound in your ears while fucked your throat with reckless abandon in front of his pervy coworkers, giving them a show. Imagining their surprised reactions to seeing the usually stoic and put-together Nanami Kento, crumble under your hands was making you aroused.

You understood how important this meeting was, and for the both of you to not get caught, but from the message you saw it sounded like he was in the middle of changing his profession anyways, so did it really matter?

All reason being thrown out the window as your hand comes down to knead and massage his balls between your fingers, using your saliva that had dripped from the base of his cock to ease the slide against his sensitive sack.

You saw his abs clench under his shirt, the only change in demeanor being the deep breath he took, grunting softly when he let it out.

He looked down at you for a beat, if you weren't so focused on his chiseled face, searching for the reactions you craved, you would've missed the warning look he gave you. One that said, watch yourself.

Smirk tugging at your lips, occupied with his girth, you pulled back almost completely off him, continuing to massage his balls with one hand, the other coming up to stroke the part of his cock that wasn't in your mouth anymore.

You pointed the tip of your tongue, teasing it into the slit of his cock, he made the mistake of actually taking a sip of his coffee at the same time, covering his mouth with his arm and choking on the liquid when he felt you flick your tongue into the entrance of his urethra.

Alarms going off in his head when his boss called attention to his little coughing fit, "Nanami? Are you alright?" he knew that everyone in the meeting now had their attention on him, you knew that too.

And still you didn't stop

He spoke your name darkly, a verbal warning now, before raising his head from the crook of his arm to switch himself off mute. Coughing a bit; not at the coffee anymore; when you kept your ministrations going strong. "Y-yes, sorry, wrong pipe," he struggled out.

Satisfaction filling your chest, finally seeing more of a reaction from him like you wanted. Going back to throating his cock in one swift motion, hand that was stroking him coming to rest on top of his veiny one that was sitting against his thigh, bouncing with his knee.

Squeezing your hand around his, he returned the action, fingers curling into yours when he felt your palm come into contact with his skin. Moved his curser back to mute himself once more as he felt himself inching closer and closer to his orgasm caused by your expert technique.

Nanami's thick fingers stalled against the mousepad when his boss spoke up again, "Good to hear you're alright then! Since you have your mic on, and we haven't heard from you yet, how about you tell us your input regarding the project and your thoughts on what has been said so far?"

fuuuuuuuuck you've got to be kidding

If he had a button that he could press right now that would kill him, he would press it a heartbeat, zero hesitation.

Nanami never has been the universe's favorite.

It wasn't so much that he didn't know what had already been said or what the project was about, but moreso that he was quite literally on the precipice of his orgasm, and was about to be thrown off the edge.

Worst fucking timing ever.

Tapping his heavy fingers against the desk next to the speaker on his laptop to cover the slurping sounds that were now barely audible thanks to your softer sucking. Maybe you did have a conscious he thought briefly. well..just maybe, considering you didnt stop.

The feeling of your mouth being no less intense even with softer technique, arguably more arousing as it felt like you were teasing him, slowly building him up to his orgasm with kittle licks on his tip, hunching down to lap at his balls, sticking your tongue out flat and letting his heavy sack come into contact with the warm appendage.

He squeezed your hand tight as he started to talk, lots of uncharacteristic 'ums', stuttering, and well-timed coughs filling in his sentences as he tried to get out his input as quickly as possible so he could fucking cum already. Then he could deal with you.

He tried to stave off his orgasm by untensing the muscles in his pelvis. This technique was just enough for him to make it to the end of his speech, quickly muting himself and bringing the back of his hand to his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

Jaw dropping behind his fingers as his deep voice groaned out unabashedly, clenching his jaw as rope after rope spurted out the slit of his cock, dirting your hair.

Unaware of how close he really was from his inability to warn you beforehand, you quickly brought your face into place, sucking his cock back into your mouth as you bobbed your head back and forth on the length of him. Sucking and swallowing what was left of his warm cum as he dropped his hand back onto the desk in a fist, clenching it hard, making the veins on his wrist pop out while he rode out the aftershocks.

Face straightening out once more, chest still heaving through his mouth, cracked open slightly. Continuing to dart your tongue out around his dick. His hard cock twitched against your face when you leaned down to lick and against the rough material of his pants, cleaning the cum he spilled there, while his boss wrapped up the meeting.

He shut his laptop with such speed and force the second the chime signaling the end of the meeting commenced, making you worry about the state of the screen before his hand was in your hair.

He yanked on it hard, crouching slightly to meet your face halfway as he pulled you up by his harsh grip, "You're fucking done." he spat. Dragging you to his feet he threw you over his shoulder in one swift motion, leaving a loud smack against your ass, yelping when you felt the impact. He was making quick strides towards the bedroom, "So fucking lucky we didn't get caught." he growled, throwing you down on the bed, watching you bounce slightly against the mattress. "how many." he asked impatiently, eyes staring darkly into yours.

"w-what?" you questioned, watching him stand in front of you, hastily taking off his spotted tie as you tried to scoot away from him on the bed. Not letting you get far, he reached out, gripping the entirety of your neck in his big palm and growling his next statement against your mouth, "How many times do you deserve to get spanked?" you gulped hard.

yeahhh, you fucked up.

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bones4thecats · 11 months ago

Text

What If Their S/O Visited Them At Work?

Type of Writing: #3 - Poll Result Characters: Dire Crowley, Divus Crewel, Mozus Trein, and Ashton Vargas Name: What If Their S/O Visited Them At Work? Original Poll Link: Here

A/N: Alright, since the only thing I could find about the MC's name being is just Yuu, so I gave them a surname. It's 'Sei', which translates to 'Surname' from Japanese. That just made sense to me, I don't know why, but, whatever. Have fun reading this!

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🪶 Nobody was believing the rumor that the headmaster was walking around with someone he was claiming to be his S/O of many years, instead, they believed he was paying someone to act in that role

🪶 Yuu was one of the few that had a hunch that this rumor was, in fact, true and that the headmaster they grew to had decent boundaries with did have an S/O

🪶 When the many words from the dorm leaders died down, the Prefect looked up and noticed that the doors were slowly opening, signalling the arrival of the headmaster

🪶 Normally, he didn't observe meetings, though, after the last few incidents in regards to overblots, he needed some background information so he knew what to tell the council

🪶 Just without, y'know, the overblots and all...

🪶 The housewardens sat straight as the headmaster's cheery tone entered their ears, alongside with the light chuckles of someone else

🪶 Yuu smiled and watched as Crowley walked inside alongside his apparent S/O, and they watched as Riddle politely rose his hand in order to ask a question the other dorm heads certainly were thinking

" Headmaster, many have been saying you were, in fact, paying this person to act in place of your fictional S/O. In order to... uhm... hide your loneliness? I suppose. Is that true? "

🪶 You smiled and covered your mouth to laugh, before walking over and behind your husband, grabbing his shoulders and kissing his head, as his hat was laying on his lap

" Allow me to answer for him, Rosehearts. I am his S/O, of around {#} years now, if I'm recalling correctly. And, with that information, I do hope you inform your students in your respective dorms that I am his real S/O and not some person he paid. "

🪶 Crowley could feel the agitation at the audacity the small beings had for claiming yourself to be a weird form of prostitute, he grabbed your hand and kissed it before welcoming the main topic of the meeting in the meeting

🐾 You knew your husband's thoughts of the students he's been teaching for years, and most of them were how annoying they were getting

🐾 But, they had seemingly been getting better as the year continued, and, due to this, you wanted to meet some of those he deemed 'far less annoying and ignorant than others', such as this magic-less human

🐾 And what time was better than Winter Break?

🐾 Wrapping your long overcoat tighter to your body, you sighed as the sound of the bell ringing entered your ears, making you sit straighter on the bench you were sat upon

🐾 Looking as the students flowed out of the doors to their respective ways home, you smiled gently as the sight of your husband's white and black hair entered your eyes

🐾 You noticed that a human was walking alongside him, they were smiling as they spoke, before looking up at you and pointing, grabbing Crewel's attention

🐾 The human ran up to you and held out a hand to you as your spouse walked in appose to their sprint

" I'm Yuu Sei! I'm gonna guess that you're Y/N Crewel! Professor's spouse, right? "

🐾 Smiling down at the young teen, you shook their hand, exchanging your name and looked up as your husband called your name before patting the prefect's head

" Yuu here came from another world, apparently, so, in order to do the 'nice thing of the year' you've got me hooked on, I have invited them to our home for Winter Break. I hope that is alright with you, my beloved. "

🐾 Nodding your head, you held your hand out to them, chuckling as the took it with such happiness, the poor thing cannot be left along for so long, right?

" Of course! They can meet our dogs, I hope you're alright with some dog hair, because the pups can get quite rambunctious at the sight of a new person. "

🐾 Crewel smiled and kissed your head, maybe this wasn't such a bad choice as he thought

🐈‍⬛ None of his students believed that their history teacher, Mozus Trein, was married once, nonetheless married a second time!

🐈‍⬛ When it was announced by the council and Crowley that they were releasing a 'Family Day' to help out the many students who were feeling quite homesick for being away from their families for so many months

🐈‍⬛ You and his daughters decided to come by and visit him, after all, he must have been missing you guys to some capacity

🐈‍⬛ Smiling at the young girls, you pulled your coat's hood down and strolled inside the school, heading straight for the older man's office, and, at the sight of two women and an older-appearing person walking as a group, students began to whisper

🐈‍⬛ Who were you guys? Were you family members of some new first year or what?

🐈‍⬛ Tapping on the door, the sound of your husband's words stopped and his cat's squeaky-sounding meow made him excuse himself and walk to the door

🐈‍⬛ The girls hugged your arms as Trein opened the door, asking who it was and what they wanted

" Happy Family Day, Father! "

🐈‍⬛ You smiled lightly and hugged the man with his two girls, only stopping at the sound of a young male yelling out with a confused expression

" The rumors are true?! Professor, you have an S/O and two daughters?! " " Yes, Trappola. Now, sit down and be quiet as I speak to them out in the hallway. "

🐈‍⬛ The ginger-haired boy sat down, lightly rocking back and fourth as another young student held out their hand as a cat chuckled at his reaction

🏆 Nobody, and I mean nobody expected the Ashton Vargas would become a boyfriend to anybody, nonetheless marry someone

🏆 When the news of how a new assistant to the P.E. teacher's was going to come by and was to start working with him, the many students of Night Raven College were shocked

🏆 You watched as your husband spoke to the students, saying how they were having a new teacher coming in to help out

" I heard that the teacher is your spouse, is that true, Mr. Vargas? "

🏆 Smirking, Vargas laughed, assuring the boys that the question's whole premise was true and that the new professor was, in fact, his spouse of a few years

" Y/N! You can come on out now! "

🏆 Walking out from behind the doors of the school, you stood in front of the boys in an outfit quite similar to your S/O, with a matching white shirt and a black and f/c striped jacket with long black pants and a nice pair of tennis shoes

🏆 He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and gave you a light side-hug, making the students chuckle at a young blue-haired, ginger-haired, and a young cat while one student just held the cat in their arms

🏆 Grabbing his whistle from his neck, he furrowed his eyebrows and blew air into the piece of metal and yelled at the boys to run 10 laps

🏆 You sighed and smiled, wrapping your left arm around his midsection as he gripped you tighter, the hug was sending a message to you, he understood how they were thinking

🏆 Or, at least a couple were thinking that he would allow them to gawk at you as if you were an open-grab... as if!

" My love, you don't have to be so hard on them. " " Tch. This is a part of my job, My Beauty. Besides, I've been going easy on them. They need some sort of boost in activity. "

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writingwisterias · 2 months ago

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Hello! Can you write a little drabble of Leon saving his best friend(crush) from her crazy ex? Protective Leon for the winnn

I sure can! I hope you enjoy it, thank you for the request- it's a little bit longer than a drabble because I got carried away :)

Leon Kennedy x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Toxic relationship, Crazy Ex, Friends - Lovers, Abusive relationships, Wounds, light violence, Protective Leon, Abuse (Not from Leon), (Partner is a Boyfriend) Please take warning when reading Under the cut! My Dms are open if there's a tag you think I've missed or need someone to talk to :)

Leon grumbled as he opened the door to his apartment, his muscles aching from his last mission. He almost gave up and chose to sleep on the couch but after deciding to give his back some release, he stumbled to the bedroom, allowing the soft comfort of his bed to envelope him as he flopped on it. He groaned in relief, finally shutting his eyes to let the jet lag catch up and fall into a long sleep. Only for his phone to ring in his pocket. The vibrations were angry against his leg, a constant reminder that duty calls. He pried the thing from where it was trapped against his thigh and the bed. He flipped it open bringing the speaker to his ear before grumbling out "Agent Kennedy?"

If you were in dire need of his help you would have laughed or made a joke at how formal he sounded; instead, a whimper left your lips. You brought your hand over your mouth stifling the noise in case you woke up your Ex who had now passed out on the sofa. Broken glass and furniture littered the room, your arm having small scraps where some had caught you in the ordeal. You didn't mean to anger him, you were just asking what he wanted for dinner which distracted him and caused him to lose focus on his game. Apparently that resulted in a full-blown tantrum, he threw anything he could at you whilst spitting insults in your face. You cleared your throat before speaking again, your voice barely above a whisper - half worried that the phone wouldn't even pick it up. "Leon, can you come and get me, please? I need help"

Leon shot up immediately, any weariness that lingered on his body gone at the sound of your voice. "Hey, where are you? I'm on my way" He said, checking his pockets for his keys before leaving his house. He opted for the bike, choosing speed to get there faster. "I'm at his house, he just...I don't know Leon, he just got mad. I need to leave whilst he's asleep" You whimpered. The fear in your voice broke his heart, his brain already raking through all the roads to get there faster. "Wait for me outside okay? I'm on the bike so I'll be there as fast as I can"

You tried to go outside, but the creaking of the front room woke him. Leon could hear the arguments when he pulled up outside, the front door cracked open ever so slightly. Without hesitation he barged in, his footsteps noisy as the glass crunched beneath his boots. You couldn't tell if the sight of him terrified you or gave you relief. You knew he would come, he always did your Leon. Perhaps this time he would stay, chose you to talk about everything he went through instead of pushing you away. You got tired of waiting. Waiting for him to decide what to do, what he wanted. The two of you got into an argument a few months ago, he was drunk and begging for your forgiveness. Perhaps you should have accepted his offer, his promises of self-improvement. Then maybe you wouldn't be trapped here, against the wall with the breath of your supposed lover on your neck as his dirty hands pinned you against the wall. Did he not notice the tears that trickled down your cheeks? The way your frame was shaking?

Leon acted before he thought it through, dragging him away by the collar of his shirt. He stumbled to the ground with a loud thud, his body a heap against the couch. "Back off" Leon growled, his body stiff as he stood in front of you daring the man you claimed to love to fight. His eyes were piercing, and his brows lowered as he stared. It was almost terrifying but in a beautiful way. You looked at the small wrinkles on his face, the slight stubble that had grown in over his time away. He smelled of gunpowder, you could feel the heat from him as he moved back shielding you as the dickhead rose again. His steps were swayed as he moved towards Leon, his fist clenched as he prepared to swing but Leon was faster. One hit and he thumped to the floor again now unconscious and with a black eye.

Leon turned to you, his hands gentle as they landed on your biceps. His eyes softened as he looked you over, taking into account all the small cuts and bruises that now littered your skin. Instead of speaking, he pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around you holding you close. Your body slumped against him as you began to cry, your hands desperately clutching at him. You could hear his coos as he tried to calm you down. "I've got you"

"He won't hurt you anymore, I've got you now"

Upon returning to his place, he sat you on the sofa before leaving to find a medical kit. You scanned the room spotting the duffle bag abandoned at the door along with all of his other gear. Guilt ate at your chest as you realised he had just returned from another grueling mission. Leon walked back in, his browns pinched together in concentration and concern...the two looked so similar you often found it hard to tell the difference. "I'm sorry I called you..you look like you just got back" you mumbled looking at your hands instead of him. You felt the sofa dip as he sat down, the medical supplies laid out on the table. His touch was feather like as he gently grasped your hand, pulling it into his lap forcing you to look at him. "How long has he been like this?"

His voice cracked as he spoke the words, his own guilt at letting a petty argument get in the way. He should have checked on you, messaged you, begged you to talk to him but then maybe that would have made things worse, for that was why your ex was angry in the first place. The two of you had always been close, meeting in the mess of Raccoon City you shared trauma allowing you to rely on each other. Everything Leon went through was so you and Sherry didn't have to, and you turned him away after Spain because your partner was jealous.

"A few months, I thought he would change...this was the worst"

The tears threatened to spill from your waterline as you held his gaze. Apologies ready to spill from your lips the more you looked at him. Leon was angry you didn't call him, angry you were going through all of this to add onto the shit the world had already thrown at you. Yet your kindness never wavered, never changed. "You don't have to worry about him anymore, you can stay here"

He returned his attention to the small cuts, making sure they were clean or putting witch hazel on the bruises to help them heal. His touch was never firm, only showing how caring he was. Leon looked at you when he finished, unspoken words and emotions held in his gaze again. You felt your heart flutter as you looked at him. "Leon..."

He silenced the rest of your sentence with a kiss, a quick one, almost as if he hadn't meant to do it. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean...I mean I did...but-"

You cut him off with another kiss, this time your fingers weaved into his blond strands. The events of the day melted into passion as he forced his love, promises of devotion into the kiss. Promises of a better future

#resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil fanfiction #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x you

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thebomb-thebird-andtheburntbitch · 2 months ago

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HiHIHI HOPE YOU'RE HAVING A GOOD DAY JUST WANTED TO SAY I LOVE YOUR WORKS

I just binge read every single one of your Boothill fics and they all got me kicking my feet and everything!! I love how you write him and Ore is so cute I could actually explode 💥💥💥

Take your time or you can choose to ignore but can I have a request of Ore going missing (it's very small if I recall, so I kinda imagine it getting stuck under the couch or something) and just Boothill helping to look for it? TYSM IF YOU DO!

thank you so much for reading and enjoying my content!! I honestly dont know if i'll ever be able to write a boothill fic without making the reader some sort of mechanic. i may just stop breathing if i try- you can pry mechanic reader out of my cold dead hands

[1k w.count]

but just imagine, boothill isn't even on planet. he's off somewhere else when his phone starts pinging like nuts. back to back messages and before his text-to-voice can kick in, it starts blaring with phone calls.

"dadgummit..! who in the-" boothill huffs and puff as he fishes his phone from the space beside him where he had left it charging. his irritation all but simmered down when he saw your contact name flash across his screen.

...sugar is calling...

one his brows quirk up and he almost frowns at the incoming call. the hell is this? you never call him. like ever. you dont really call anyone really- more of a messaging kindof person. not to say he wasn't thrilled to hear from you though.

"is blowin' up my phone a new hobby of yours or somethin'?" boothill doesn't bother with a hello when he answers. neither do you.

"i can't find it!" you screech into the receiver. the feedback from the call's inital pick up and your yelling has the cowboy pulling his phone from his ear with a wince. beside the feedback shot into his eardrum, the sound of something metal being... knocked over...? also enters his head.

"sugar, you know i aint got a clue what you're talkin' about. i'm not in your star system right now," boothill tries to reason. you sound pretty distressed all things considered. so, he should at least hear you out. if all else, he can turn this ship around and speed it back to you.

he hears you whine; a whine that soon escalates into a full-on frustrated groan. oh. you were definitely upset about something. the only other times he's heard you like this is when a project isn't working out at any angle at all and you're one step away from throwing it out the window.

"it's ore." your voice is muffled behind your hand as you speak. "i lost it." you sound so pitiful as you confess your shame in losing the small robot companion boothill had brought back for you a while ago now. "i took my eyes off it for two seconds- and it was just... gone!" ore was so small; it should be common knowledge that the robot can hide just about anywhere it can squeeze itself into- but it usually trails around after you like a lost puppy! so, you've gotten sloppy at keeping an eye on it.

"you're blowin' up my phone because you lost track of your lil' assistant robot?" on one hand, boothill feels a little flattered that you feel like you can call him for stuff like this. the stuff that isn't really life threatening or to only deliver horribly, dire news. just something that's more or less inconvenient. on the other? he's almost annoyed because what if he was in the middle of a bounty? he isn't... but what if.

eh, whatever, he wouldn't be mad even if that were the case.

"look," boothill swallows back a chuckle and forces out a sigh, "i'm sure it ain't far. lil' guy never wanders off too far from you. just sit tight and it'll right back come to you."

"but what if it doesn't? what if ore's like lost-lost. like super lost? i can't just-"

"sugar," boothill interrupts you. "remind me again who programmed it?"

theres a beat of silence. "me."

"uh-huh, that's right. and didn't that very same you also program him with the maps of locations you frequent, like your shop?"

"i did."

"and why's that, sugar?" boothill has taken to plopping himself down in one of the chairs in his ship. luckily the spacecraft has an auto-pilot function as well as a cruise function when he was preoccupied- like now- or when he wasn't on an active job. there's a smirk on his face. he wonders if you can hear it through your slight panic.

"so that if it got lost... it'd know the way back."

"bingo," boothill snaps his free fingers together. "so, just calm down."

the phone call lasts not too much longer. a few more worried words from you, as well as a slight pout that you had lost what he had given you which almost made his systems overheat. with a few more reassurances that ore would make its way back to your loving palms sooner than you'd think, the call ends.

the galaxy ranger laughs when he finally see's just how many messages you spammed him with before deciding to just call him. there was wayyy too many. he wishes he was more tech-smart so he could screenshot the damage and send it to you as a tease.

still, despite the absurdity of it all, boothill was glad you called. even though you were frantic, he was happy to hear your voice. then he huffs and deflates in his chair, knees spread apart and back slouched low against the back. if he still had human bones, his spine would surley disapprove of such a position.

now he just misses you. dammit.

two system hours later, his phone pings. another message from you with a picture attatched.

[sugar]: he crawled up under the workshop sofa and got stuck in a spring. i finally heard him beeping after i stopped tossing things around [image attached] [sugar]: might install a tracking program

boothill chuckles softly as he looks at the photo of you. soot and oil splotch on your nose and cheeks from whatever you were tinkering with that day. your googles were around your neck and he was glad to see you were still using them as you should be. on your shoulder was ore. hooked into its safety carabiner and using its little, metal arms to hug to your cheek. its digital expression was scrunched up with fake, pixeled tears.

damn. boothill really wishes he was more tech-savvy now. i mean come one! what kind of cyborg can be nearly all robot, know how to steer and command a spaceship and still not know how to change a phone's background!

next time he's by the express, he'll have to ask dan heng.

#alternatively: imagine if ore snuck onto boothills ship???#the way you'd be calling and yeLLING at him to bring it back unharmed or else #boothill #boothill hsr #honkai star rail #boothill x reader #boothill x y/n #boothill x you #boothill fluff #boothill scenarios #boothill headcanons #boothill honkai star rail #hsr boothill #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 2 months ago

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In The Gloomy Depths [Chapter 4: Emerald]

Series summary: Five years ago, jewel mining tycoon Daemon Targaryen made a promise in order to win your hand in marriage. Now he has broken it and forced you into a voyage across the Atlantic, betraying you in increasingly horrifying ways and using your son as leverage to ensure your cooperation. You have no friends and no allies, except a destitute viola player you can’t seem to get away from…

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), parenthood, dolphins, death and peril, violence (including domestic violence), drinking, smoking, freezing temperatures, murder, if you don’t like Titanic you won’t like this fic!!! 😉

Word count: 5.1k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @arcielee @nightvyre @mrs-starkgaryen @gemini-mama @ecstaticactus, more in comments 🥰

💎 Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 💎

Back into the sitting room, fleeing like a hare from hounds, but Rush is here trying to grab you. You careen to the door to the private promenade deck and dive out into the bitter starlit cold, your breath fog, your shoes slipping on the yellow pine planks that overlay the steel skeleton of the ship, weight that could drag you down to the ocean floor. Rush is in pursuit; he swipes at your arm and gets ahold of your coat sleeve, soft pink wool. You wrench yourself free, twisting out of the coat and dropping your handbag, colliding with the barrier, Tudor-style timber paneling beneath vast windows the frigid night air pours in through. Your hip bruises against the wood, you can hear black waves crashing below; then you collapse to the deck, your spine pressed to the wall, trying to back away when there’s nowhere left to run to. You realize you are still clutching Aegon’s small aluminum lighter and shove it beneath the skirt of your gown. Rush draws his pistol.

“No no no!” you plead, showing him your palms, cowering beneath one of the windows.

They could throw me out of it. They could say it was an accident or a suicide.

The deck is lined with potted plants and lightweight wicker furniture. Inside, you can hear Rhaenyra saying something, though her words are muffled; it’s a tone you wouldn’t have thought she was capable of. She sounds afraid. Draco and Dagmar must be asleep, Fern tucked away in the tiny maid’s room. There are no witnesses to what will happen next. Your heart thuds in your chest, swollen and sickly. Cold North Atlantic wind washes over your bare skin and leaves you freckled with goosebumps.

Like a lightning storm, like a hurricane, Daemon surges out onto the deck. He is still tying his robe shut. His hair hangs in dark, damp strands over his forehead. You picture it again, though you don’t want to: Daemon with Rhaenyra like he’s never been with you, the impulsive desire, the dire necessity.

Why not in Rhaenyra’s bed? Why would he bring her here?

Because he thought you wouldn’t be back until midnight…and to prove he can get away with it. To succeed where he failed with you this morning. To feel like a man again.

“I didn’t see anything,” you tell him, but you cannot keep the shock and disgust from your face, intractable like a wild animal.

Daemon kicks one of the wicker chairs at you. You bat it away with a scream and press yourself harder against the barrier, trying to disappear, trying to become somebody else, a girl who didn’t agree to marry a renegade of a man who showed up smirking and cavalier at her father’s Connemara marble quarry.

I want to go home, you think with helplessness like a child’s.

“I didn’t see anything,” you say again, sobbing now. With one hand, you claw at the windowsill above you so you have something to hold onto if he tries to drag you away. The wind, sweeping down from the Arctic, burns like blue fire in your lungs. “I don’t know anything.”

Daemon dives to the floor, hooks his fingers into your hair, yanks you closer as you cry out and flinch away from him. “One word, one fucking word, and you’re gone,” he is threatening, a blade-sharp hiss, and you can smell Rhaenyra’s perfume on him, marking his flushed skin like a bloodstain; but Daemon’s deep-set green eyes—emerald, malachite, jade, serpentine, Connemara marble—are fearful. This is strange; this is unlike him, this is a foreign language.

He loves her, you realize. He’s terrified to harm her, to lose her.

“I would never—”

“Over the railing,” Daemon snarls, jerking your head to the side as you whimper. “Your bones at the bottom of the ocean, your name forgotten.”

“I won’t tell, please, Daemon, please, don’t hurt me.” You look at Rush. He’s staring indifferently down at you, his pistol still in his hand. You turn back to Daemon. “I’ve never told anyone.” About the bruises, about the man you really are. “Not my parents, not a soul. I don’t want to tell. I just want to stay with you and Draco. I won’t jeopardize that. Please, Daemon, please—”

“No one would believe you,” he says; but if that was true, he wouldn’t be so frantic. “You’d be a madwoman. They’d lock you up in an asylum, put you in a straightjacket, cut the pieces off of you that made you so hysterical.”

“Yes,” you agree, yielding, toothless.

He rips at your hair again, pulling you away from the barrier and to the center of the floor. Rush steps out of the way to make room. You don’t fight Daemon. You have to convince him your fighting days are over.

Why doesn’t he kill me now? A dagger to the jugular, a body splashing into opaque waves?

Because he needs his perfect family in order to march triumphantly into the skyscrapers-and-streetlights labyrinth of Manhattan. Because he can’t eclipse Viserys if people are whispering that his wife is dead under peculiar circumstances, fallen overboard on Titanic’s famed maiden voyage, insane or drunk or maybe—just maybe—murdered by a man’s rough rageful hands.

“What did you see?” Daemon says, testing you.

“Nothing.”

His palm cracks across your face. You yelp, more startled than in pain. Your skin is going numb from the cold; he’s hit you harder before. Now he doesn’t want to bloody or bruise you, he doesn’t want to leave evidence others could notice. He wants his threats imprinted irrevocably into you like scars. He wants you to listen. “What did you see?!”

“Nothing,” you moan, and then the door to the sitting room opens. You, Daemon, and Rush all whirl towards the noise.

In the doorway stands Fern with a silver-plated tray of tea and biscuits. Her black dress and white apron appear hastily thrown on, rumpled fabric and some buttons left undone. She blinks a few times, but she seems more nervous than shocked. Her eyes flit to you and then settle benignly on a wicker table. She ignores the chair that Daemon kicked earlier, lying overturned at the edge of the deck.

She knew what was happening, you think, grateful, a little awed. She’s here to try to stop it.

“It’s so cold out tonight,” Fern says at last. “I thought I’d make tea.”

Daemon doesn’t know how to respond. He’s never cruel to the staff, that’s one of his charms. His miners worship him, his valets believe him to be their true friend, his housekeepers fret over him as if he’s their husband or their son. Daemon rarely acknowledges Fern directly, as if she doesn’t quite exist to him, a ghost whose silhouette appears on eerie nights, squeaks of door hinges and objects nudged a few mysterious centimeters. He chooses his enemies with great care, like a gardener pruning diseased leaves. Daemon understands that the ones who toil beneath his feet are in the best position to rise up and devour him.

Fern sets the tray down on the wicker table and waits, her hands clasped decorously in front of her. “Will you be requiring anything else, sir?”

There are several electrified seconds—waves thrashing against the ship, wind howling as it tears through your hair—and then Daemon laughs and releases you, as if this has all been a comical misunderstanding. He stands and goes to the tray, picks up a cup of tea, and slurps on it as steam billows up into his face. “How kind of you.”

Fern bows her head in a nod, not leaving. Rush glances between them, then slides his pistol back into its holster.

“Draco should have a mother,” Daemon tells you, looking down from a great height. It sounds like it is meant to be a compromise.

“He should,” you reply. Even if I cannot touch him, cannot be alone with him, cannot teach him to love me.

“It’s not good for boys. When their mothers up and die on them while they’re still so young.” Daemon is reflective for a moment—an unusual skin for him to wear—and then slinks towards the doorway. “Fern, darling, change the bedsheets, will you?”

“Yes, sir. Right away.” She follows him back inside, a brief glimpse at you over one shoulder. Rush glowers at you and disappears with them. You are left alone on the private promenade deck.

Your head spinning, your bones freezing, you struggle to your feet: palms flat on the pine planks, black opal ring glimmering in the moonlight, knees groaning as you lift them. Slowly—stunned, aching—you pull on your pink wool coat. You find Aegon’s lighter and hide it in your handbag, then stand there clutching it like you’re on your way to some glittering social engagement, a tea party, a dinner, a gala, a Christmas party. But what you’re on your way to is purgatory, like the one Dante wrote of, a prison where you will sweat out your sins over and over again.

Why did I believe him? Why did I marry him? Why can’t I find a way out?

You leave the deck like an autumn frosting into winter, bleak, hushed, listless. You do not return to your staterooms but pass through the doorway that leads to the B-Deck hallways. The corridors are quiet and still, occasional stewards running the last errands of the night, a few men in black suits puffing on pipes and cigars, swirling clinking glasses of brandy, ruing all the blights that have incumbered their earnings: foolish wives, Democratic politicians, dissolute immigrants.

You flee towards the stern of the ship, far from the first-class sections. Outside there is a greenish hue to the sky—dim echoes of northern lights—and stars that sparkle like jewels. There is no one lingering by the back railing of Titanic, and for good reason; the air is so cold it bites like fangs, and the roar of the propellers is terrible, so loud and so guttural, sea monsters like the ones early explorers drew into the margins of their maps clawing up from the depths. You fall to the deck and sit with your knees to your chest at the end of a pair of benches—hiding in the shadows where you will not be seen by wandering passengers or lookouts scanning for icebergs—and gaze into the east as Titanic chugs westward, away from Ireland, away from everything your life could have been.

Tears bleed down your cheeks and turn from magma to ice there. You wipe them off your face with the sleeve of your pink wool coat. You ignite a cigarette with Aegon’s aluminum lighter and smoke it all the way down. You light another, and another, poisoning your blood with each breath, polishing the barbs off reality. It’s not enough. You need a drink. How long until you’re just another languishing housewife addicted to laudanum or cocaine? How long until you’re a drunk like Aegon once was?

I want to go home. I want to go home.

There are footsteps, sluggish and clumsy. An intoxicated man. You are about to scramble to your feet and escape when you see who it is. Aegon flops down beside you in a stolen black coat, the pungent miasma of Guinness wafting off of him and his face splotchy and red, looking away from you, ashamed of himself.

You say: “I thought you didn’t drink anymore.”

“And obviously there’s a reason for that,” Aegon slurs. He rubs his eyes, watery and unfocused, bloodshot and despondent. “I’m having a bad night.”

Me too. “Did you know?” you ask, a hoarse voice, a cigarette smoldering between two fingers.

Aegon is confused. “Know what?”

“That Daemon can’t get hard for me because he’d rather be sleeping with his niece.”

“What?” Aegon gapes at you, incredulous, revolted. “Daemon is fucking Rhaenyra?”

You nod, taking a drag. There is a faint orange glow, a warm hit of nicotine to your blood.

“I can’t believe that.”

“I can. I saw it.”

“Jesus,” Aegon mutters, staring out into the endless ink spill of the Atlantic Ocean. Then, more sympathetically: “No, I didn’t know.”

“You never heard anything?”

“Not like that,” he says. “I mean, I remember when I was a kid and people were talking about Daemon being a bad influence on her. But they said he was teaching Rhaenyra to go to parties and stay out too late and swear and smoke, not…you know. Not that he was committing incest with her. That’s some Richard III mischief.”

“Now I understand why you know so much Shakespeare.”

“My parents couldn’t send me to boarding school fast enough. I was shipped off the same week I turned five. Cake and presents one day, shoved on a train the next.”

“I’m afraid Daemon will do that to Draco.” You can’t keep the quiver from your words. “I’m afraid he’ll kill me now that I know the worst of his secrets.”

Aegon turns to you, and through the haze of dark bitter Guinness that’s still sloshing from his stomach into his bloodstream you can see he fears the same thing.

“I want to go home,” you sob, breaking down. Ashes build on your cigarette until you toss it away. Tears spill from your eyes, the River Shannon, the River Clare. “Nobody here cares about me.”

“I do,” Aegon insists, touching your face, trying to make you listen. His sand-colored hair lashes in the wind. “I care about you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I’m trying to.”

“Why do you care? Why can’t you leave me alone? Did you go to O’Connell’s Bar to spy on me, was all of this to spite Daemon and—?”

“No,” Aegon says, a truthful boyish confession. “No. I didn’t know you’d be there. I didn’t know anything about you except that Daemon had married some quarry heiress. I heard he’d be there for an interview, and I was curious, and I kind of thought it’d be fun to fuck with him if he ended up recognizing me, and so I got a job at O’Connell’s and made sure I’d be playing the night Daemon showed up. That’s all there was to it. And then I saw you in that bar in Galway and you were…” He shakes his head. His voice drops to a whisper, aching and reverent. “You were so sad, and so beautiful, and I…I’ve never done anything important in my entire life. I’ve never helped anyone. But I looked at you and I felt like…I thought…I could save her. And maybe that would make all the rest of my mistakes worth it, the wasted years of drinking myself to sleep every night, the aimlessness, the emptiness, the way I abandoned my mother and Helaena, Aemond, Daeron. I followed you onto Titanic because I had to try to help you. But by leading me home, by bringing me back to my family in New York…maybe you’re helping me too.”

I wish I was yours, you think, so vividly you almost tell him. I wish I was a stone in your mine to be found in the darkness, chiseled from the wall, studied and cut down and polished, set in gold or silver to be worn on your ring finger, your blood pulsing beneath my ageless gleam.

“Please stay away from me,” you beg him. “Please, Aegon. I don’t want you to die.”

He says as his thumbprints clean tears from your cheeks: “What if Daemon was gone?”

“You mean what if I pushed him over a railing and into the Atlantic Ocean?” you ask, sniffling. “Assuming I could get him alone, and he didn’t stab me first or drag me overboard with him, they would know it was me. Rush, Dagmar, Rhaenyra. And they would make me pay. If I lived, I’d spend the rest of my life in a prison or an asylum. I wouldn’t get to go home. I wouldn’t get to keep Draco.”

Aegon doesn’t know what to say, and this is because there are no answers. You aren’t overlooking anything. Sometimes reality is cold and unfeeling and lethal, primordial, reptilian, mindless black eyes like a shark’s.

You smile miserably at him. “I’m going to miss you when the ship docks in New York Harbor.”

“Daemon wanting to fuck Rhaenyra doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you.”

“Stop,” you say, wincing, standing to leave him. Aegon reaches for your hands, but you hide them in the pockets of your pink wool coat. He gazes up at you, drunk desperate heartbreak. You wonder how clearly he’ll remember this tomorrow.

“If you were my wife, I’d never look away.”

“You have no idea who I am. You’ve never really seen me.” Never held me, never uncovered me, never opened me and filled the void with your own rushing blood. Then you depart before someone can come searching for you and discover Aegon, rip away his disguise, toss him into the roiling frigid surf stirred up by the propellers.

In your staterooms, the lamplit air is silent and warmed by the ship’s furnaces, shoveled full of coal at all hours of the day and night. Fern is waiting on the sofa when you enter. She looks at you as if she is relieved, then vanishes into her tiny maid’s room without a word. Your bedroom has been tidied, the linens changed; but the mineral ether of sex still hangs in the space like tapestries from a wall. You try not to notice your reflection in the mirror.

Daemon never touched me like he touched Rhaenyra. He never wanted me, I never satisfied him.

Daemon doesn’t come back all night. You sleep on the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~

On the morning of Sunday April 14th, you dress in green, the color of the Emerald Isle, the color of deep poisonous envy. You affix small emeralds to your ears and one massive stone around your throat, found in Madagascar in one of Daemon’s Grandidierite mines, a lush verdant glint in a nest of cold blue like deep water, like ice.

Heavy enough to drown me, you think wryly, a swift glance at the mirror, turning away again almost immediately. I’d go straight to the bottom.

Before you leave the bedroom, you slide open the top drawer of Dameon’s writing desk, presently abandoned. His dagger is there, gold hilt and spherical gemstones like miniature planets, all fatefully aligned: amethyst, tiger’s eye, black opal, emerald, ruby, bloodstone, sapphire. You lift up the dagger and study it, circling the tiny emerald world with your index finger. You are jealous of Rhaenyra getting everything she’s ever wanted. You are jealous of any woman who’s ever touched Aegon, who knows what it feels like to lie beneath him, to be known by him.

You place the dagger back in the drawer and slam it shut; the whole desk rattles. Then you go out into the sitting room, where Fern is attempting to wrestle Draco into his black wool coat, a small version of Daemon’s.

“No!” Draco is bellowing. “I don’t want to wear it, I don’t want to, let me go!”

“You’ll freeze to death out there, lad,” Fern says, strands of her long copper-colored hair escaping from her bonnet and a sheen of perspiration on her forehead, looking like she’s been to war.

Draco is stomping on the toes of her shoes to little effect. “No I won’t!”

You peer around, searching for your geriatric nemesis, a banshee, a vampire. She is nowhere to be found. “Where’s Dagmar?”

“She’s feeling seasick,” Fern replies, still struggling with Draco. “So she’s lying down in Draco’s bedroom. I’m sure she’ll be up and around again before you know it. She’s a tough old Cailleach.” And there’s no danger in being overheard; Dagmar wouldn’t know what that means, just like you don’t understand her when she mutters her strange Scandinavian curses.

You immediately scoop up Draco and run with him out of the staterooms, Draco giggling shrilly, you beaming as you fly down the corridors and ascend the Grand Staircase two steps at a time, your green shoes slipping on the English oak wood as you zoom past the bronze cherub statue and the ticking clock. All around you are first-class passengers watching with startled looks, a little baffled, a little amused. High above is the dome of glass and wrought iron, brisk white-gold sunlight streaming through. You carry Draco out onto the Boat Deck, the highest level of the ship, and take him to an unoccupied portion of the railing beside one of the lifeboats. You hold him so he can see over the barrier and out into the calm murky blue of the North Atlantic Ocean, hundreds of miles southeast of Newfoundland. The breeze is icy, the sky infinite and cloudless.

You spot slate grey fins cutting up through the water in arches, a whole pod of them. “Look, look! Dolphins!”

“Dolphins?” Draco says doubtfully. “Dolphins are real? Not just in books?”

“Of course they’re real. And they’re friendly, too. Back in Galway, sometimes they swim right up to the pier hoping the fishermen will share the catch of the day.”

“Neat!” Draco shouts. “Can I throw things at them?”

You pause, unsure how to reply. You resist the urge to shake him and say: Do you crave violence like Daemon, are you burning up inside with his fire? Do you want to be a monster like your father? One day will you paint amethyst bruises on your wife? “Why would you want to do that?”

Draco shrugs. “I like throwing things.”

“Well, throwing things can be fun, but if you throw something at a dolphin you might hurt it. Do you want to hurt the dolphin? It’s a living creature just like you. They have friends and families, and blood in their veins. They can feel it if you cut them.”

“No,” Draco decides. “I don’t really want to hurt the dolphins.”

“You can throw things in other situations, like if you play cricket or hurling or Gaelic football. Or baseball, I guess. Now that we’ll be living in America.”

“Okay,” Draco says, gazing at the ocean. Fern trots over to you, breathing heavily from trying to keep up, but she’s grinning. She has brought the coat Draco refused to put on, and this is fortunate, because now as you hold him on your hip you can feel your son is shivering.

“Do you want to put on your coat now?” you ask him.

“Yeah,” Draco says reluctantly, and you lower him down to the deck and help him tug the sleeves over his tiny arms. You suddenly remember when he was born and being so fascinated by his hands—so small and wrinkled, so powerless, always grasping—and Dagmar forever clawing him out of your arms, bundling him up in blankets and whisking him away to other corners of the castle.

“Fern was trying to help you when she told you to wear your coat. She knew you would be cold, and now you are, aren’t you? When adults tell you to do things, it’s not for no reason. They just want what’s best for you.”

“But I don’t like to do what other people say. I like to do what I want.”

“And that’s totally understandable,” you say. “Sometimes you will get to make your own decisions, especially as you get older. But right now you’re very, very young, and there are just a lot of things you don’t know yet, so you need adults more. Please be kind when Fern is trying to help you with your coat or your shoes. She doesn’t mean to upset you. She wants you to be safe and healthy.”

Fern gives you a modest, thankful smile. Draco is mulling this over. “The older someone is, the more they know?”

“I suppose you could put it that way,” you say.

“So Dagmar knows a lot more than you.”

He’s not trying to be cruel; he’s trying to figure things out. The world is so new to him. You wish you could recall what that feels like, to see everything with vast light wonder. “Well…” you begin delicately. He loves her; you cannot win by bludgeoning her into a mess of bloodstains and bone shards. “Yes, she probably knows more about certain things.”

You pick Draco up again to distract him, and he is captivated by the seagulls swooping through the air, laughing and tracking them with his wide eyes, a sunlit green beneath pale blonde hair that is disheveled from the wind. There is a figure lurking on the periphery of your vision, a man in black, a coat and a hat, hands in his pockets. You turn to see it’s Aegon, perhaps ten feet away and pretending to survey the horizon. Your heartbeat quickens; you stomach drops.

What on earth is he doing here? Why can’t he leave me alone?

But of course, you don’t want him to. You stare at him and instinctively touch the emerald that hangs from your throat, Madagascar, Ireland, treasure, envy. You think of how your bedroom smelled when you returned to it late last night.

Fern seems oblivious to Aegon. “I feel so much better knowing there are lifeboats aboard,” she says, looking at the vessel you are standing beside.

“There aren’t enough of them,” you tell her, a low murmur that Draco pays no attention to.

Fern is alarmed. “No?”

“They can fit about half the passengers, no more. So if anything happens, make sure you don’t waste any time finding yourself a seat.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, ma’am,” Fern says, troubled.

“Have you seen Lord Targaryen today?”

“No, ma’am,” Fern answers, trying to keep her tone neutral. She isn’t sure if it will be a relief to you or a knife to the heart. “He moved some of his things to Rhaenyra’s rooms before he departed last night. I suspect he will spend the rest of Titanic’s journey there.”

“He’s so fond of his niece,” you say flatly.

“Yes.”

“And she is in need of company, as her own husband is always fraternizing with the Parisians.”

Fern isn’t sure what she’s allowed to say. She smirks and bows her head to hide it. Now Aegon is strolling closer, ostensibly casual. “Good morning, ladies!”

Fern curtsies politely. “Good morning, sir.”

He casts Draco a glance—Aegon seems puzzled by him, maybe a little wary, certainly not accustomed to being around children—then extends an open hand to you. “What an engagement ring! Might I trouble you for a quick look?”

You set Draco down and he is promptly enamored by an orange-sized rubber ball someone has left here. “Of course.” You try to act indifferent, but when Aegon takes your left hand in his own you feel a jolt of warmth travel like a wave up the length of your arm.

Aegon turns your hand one way and then the other, inspecting it. Underneath, his fingertips stroke the lines of your palm. A tremor cascades down the rungs of your spine, helpless hypnotic longing. “What is that, onyx? Obsidian? Jet?”

“Black opal. From Australia.”

“A prison colony,” Aegon says, grinning at you from under the brim of his hat. “A place for villains and beasts.” Swiftly, he takes his right hand from his coat pocket and presses something into your palm: a folded piece of paper, a note, a message in a bottle from a castaway. Then he steps back from you as if it takes great effort.

“There you are!” a craggy voice cries out, and Dagmar is crossing the deck. She seems restored, if a bit wan. She swishes over in her charcoal-colored gown, her white hair twisted into a severe bun, and when Draco bolts to her she kneels down and catches him in a fierce, territorial embrace, her gnarled hands encircling his diminutive body. “Out and about without me? And I wager you haven’t even had breakfast yet, have you, my love?” She glares over his little shoulder at you. “You must be famished. How terribly irresponsible to let you suffer.”

“He ate some tea and biscuits when he woke up to tide him over,” Fern offers meekly.

“I was having fun with Mam,” Draco tells Dagmar, and you see the calculations on her cunning ancient face. She can’t scold him, she can’t correct him. She can’t defeat you with naked wrath any more than you can demand he stop loving Dagmar. You have sailed into new waters, a subtle silent war.

Aegon is receding, disappearing into the crowds of first-class passengers strolling the Boat Deck. Dagmar glances at him and then looks again, her jaw dropping open, her attention captured like a jewel in the pocket of a thief.

“What is it?” Fern asks, peeking bewilderedly at the stranger. Draco is chasing the rubber ball around again. Your pulse thuds hot and hectic in your ears.

Dagmar’s sharp blue eyes are uncharacteristically dazed; she shakes her head as if she’s just seen something impossible, an angel or a ghost. “He looks just like Viserys when he was young.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Dagmar spirits Draco off to breakfast, Fern returns to the staterooms to complete her chores for the day. You take the Grand Staircase down to A-Deck and slip into the Reading and Writing Room, mostly unoccupied this early in the day, to read Aegon’s note. Outside on the Promenade Deck, you can hear Daemon and Rhaenyra strolling by with a number of companions, chuckling and chatting away in a world where all their wishes are granted.

Daemon is saying: “There is an Armenian legend about a so-called Queen of the Serpents, who carries in her fanged mouth a stone made of light. Some nights she tosses it up into the air, where it becomes the moon, full and shining, until it inevitably drops back down to the earth. And as the proverb goes, happy is the man who shall catch the stone where it falls…”

You know that story. It was in one of the books you gifted Daemon for your first anniversary.

With trembling hands, you unfold Aegon’s note. He has written in black ink:

Petra,

One last painting?

Don’t go to dinner tonight. Meet me at the stern.

- Picasso

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x oc #aegon x y/n #hotd fic #hotd fanfic

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clerc16 · 1 year ago

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✯ music? date? both ; charles leclerc

a/n: based on a tiktok i saw earlier, by teilhard_ :)

summary: she listens to music when getting ready. he loves it. she sends him a note - he asks her out.

warnings: none.

── ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

You were a major music lover.

Getting ready? Listen to music. Reading? Listen to music. Driving? Listen to music. Bored? You guessed it.

Everyone knew that about you - you were unbelievably passionate about music. Any type of music.

“Y/NNNN, can we hang out today? iʼm bored” said a text from your friend. Naturally, you agreed - why not? It was a Saturday night and you had no plans whatsoever.

Like always, you turned on your regular playlist, making sure the volume is suitable only for your ears to hear, not to disturb any of your neighbors. Unbeknownst to you, your next door neighbor could listen to every sound coming out of your speakers. He was a nice guy - you interacted a few times, little “hello”s and “how are you”s every time you would randomly bump into each other. Despite being famous worldwide, he was extremely humble.

He was also devilishly handsome. But you never actually admitted that.

As you swiftly moved around your apartment to grab little bits and bobs needed to get ready, occasionally humming or singing along with the music, Charles Leclerc was sitting in the apartment right next to yours, attempting to read.

If he was bothered by your music, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell you - but he wasnʼt. It gave his currently dull and dead apartment a lively feel to it. Plus, your music taste was unmatchable.

As you put on some final touches, you paused your music and turned off your speakers. You grabbed your purse, phone and keys and left your apartment, shutting your door with a soft thud.

It wasn’t the first time Charles heard your music - in fact, ever since he moved in, he’d be hearing various music genres at various times of the day. This almost seemed like his final straw; he wanted to get to know you more.

He didn’t know how to approach you - he didn’t have your number, your social media, not even an email. So he channeled his inner creativity and decided to talk to you in a special way.

The special way was by leaving you a note by your doorstep. Not very original, eh?

As you were out with your friend enjoying your night, Charles was tapping his pen on the desk trying to think of what to write. After a few long hours, Charles had written the perfect note and placed it by your doorstep, hoping to see a response in the morning.

You stumbled back into your apartment complex, trying not to make a noise. You werenʼt drunk, just tired, your body begging you to fall asleep. You paid little to no attention as to what you were stepping on as you approached your door, keys in hand. As you were about to walk in, something felt stiff underneath your shoes. Looking down, you saw a small cream envelope with your name written on it in fancy cursive writing.

You bent down to pick it up and walked inside your apartment, your eyes still on the envelope. What is this?

You sit down on your couch and carefully open the letter, not wanting to rip the envelope.

“Bonjour -

Je voulais juste dire que tu écoutes de la très bonne musique, jʼadore ça!

PS: écoute “This Charming Man” de The Smiths, tu devrais aimer...

- Charles (ton voisin, n°28)”

[ Hello -

I just wanted to say that you listen to really good music, I love it!

PS: listen to “This Charming Man” by The Smiths, you should like it...

- Charles (your neighbor, n°28) ]

You immediately smiled at the note, your heart bursting with pride. If someone compliments your music taste and recommends a song, they are immediately very dear to you.

You placed the note back into its envelope and got up to change and refresh. Youʼll make sure to write back - you just donʼt really know how.

The next day, the first thing Charles did when he got up was to check for a note. He didn’t find anything. Nothing.

He sighed and decided to get on with his day. He shouldnʼt have expected a lot, really. As he left his apartment, he checked for one last time - still, nothing.

Little did he know you were just writing his name on an envelope to place on his doorstep.

The day passed, both of you anxiously waiting for a reply from each other. When Charles finally came home and saw a pink envelope on his doorstep, he smiled so hard his cheeks must have been screaming. He grabbed the envelope and rushed inside, the smile never leaving his face.

“Bonjour!

Merci beaucoup! Cela signifie beaucoup. La chanson est incroyable, The Smiths ne déçoivent jamais.

PS: écoute de “Good Looking” de Suki Waterhouse :)

- Y/N”

[ Hello!

Thank you so much! It means a lot! The song is amazing, The Smiths never disappoint.

PS: listen to “Good Looking” by Suki Waterhouse :) ]

Charles immediately opens the song on his phone, listening to it. Your music taste never disappoints, either.

It was like that for a few days - notes filled with song suggestions being passed back and forth. Every time you played music, you made sure to turn it up just a notch so he can listen to it with you.

Eventually, phone numbers were exchanged too, so notes on doorsteps were replaced by texts. Despite all this, you two didn’t actually talk in real life - even though you were literally next door neighbors.

One day, you were doing your usual, listening to music while cooking dinner. Your doorbell rang, and you walked over to the door to see who it was. Funnily enough, no one was there - but a small envelope on the doorstep was. You were confused; you and Charles text now, so why another envelope?

You brought it inside and sat down, opening it swiftly. Your hands grasped at the paper and pulled it out, curiously reading.

“Bonjour!

I feel like itʼs appropriate to ask to see you in real life now. Talking to you has been lovely. What do you say, coming by my house tomorrow at 6PM for dinner?

☐ Oui

☐ Non

- One last letter from Charles :)”

You grinned from ear to ear as you grabbed a pen and ticket the oui box, placing the note back in its envelope and by his doorstep.

Hopefully he lets you play your music on that dinner.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 #scuderia ferrari #charles leclerc x you #fanfics

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chaeyoei · 5 months ago

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Could I request jing yuan x fem_zhongli!reader? I think it would be fun to incorporate how much older she is and maybe spar with jing yuan and yanqing teaching them new moves? You could also add a bit of angst if you want with the fact that zhongli has admitted that with time, his memories do start to erode.

This is actually fuelling my brainrot. I'll incorporate the dragon part too. And other requests are coming out soon.

I kept her as a friend because the age gap bothered me alot. Warning: bad writing.

The situation was dire, the Denizens were wreaking havoc upon the ship. The Cloud Knights who remained strong, felt fear for the first time. What kind of tragedy would this bring?

All they could do was hold faith in their General and keep fighting with hopes high. Jing Yuan could the hope entrusted upon him by his subordinates but all seemed to be in vain. He was gravelly injured and his life was draining out of his body.

But with unknown fortune, appeared a figure that launched ginormous spears accompanied by meteors all raining on the enemy finishing it quickly.

Relief and suspicion overshadowed all his former emotions. Who was this figure? Most importantly, the motive behind their help. However he saw this same silhouette fall. He rushed forward to catch this unknown saviour, as he inched closer, he saw it was a woman who seemed to be half conscious. He held out his hands in time to catch this mysterious lady.

————

"She's fine." The Dragon Lady assured, her doe eyes darting from the unconscious woman on the bed to the General infront. "But, she's also a dragon and similar but different from us. I believe she's a sicon of Qilopoth(Preservation) as we are Long's(Premembrance) Sicons."

"A sicon of Preservation?" He titled his head. From what he witnessed in the battlefield, it looked more like you followed the path of the Hunt or Destruction rather than Preservation. But protecting also serves a form of Preservation.

A grumble came from the lady's mouth drawing both of their attention. "Looks like she's waking up, I'll leave you both to talk, General." Bailu took her leave.

"Where?" The lady mummered getting up. "You're in the Alchemy commision." Jing Yuan answered.

"I'm here to question you." He added.

"First question, what is your name?"

"Zhongli."

"Where do you hail from?"

"From Liyue."

That response made him speechless. Liyue as in the place where the Xianzhou Empire's origin were.

"Explain."

"Huh? I hail from Liyue.. that's it."

"How old are you?"

The lady fell silent. "600.."

"Don't lie. Liyue is a place where the Xianzhou Empire arrived and that was 5000 years ago. The planet of Teyvat was abandoned." He narrowed his and his tone only got stern.

"..6000."

"hmm.." He wasn't questioning the age but it felt like you were hiding something.

But all would come to light because you'd still have to attend the trail between the alliance and take responsibility. Your deeds may be good but they still need to know your intentions. A person who can showcase such power can also stab them in the back.

"That concludes as what the suspect had told." Jing Yuan finished his report.

"Very well. Lady Zhongli.. You admit that your home place is the Loufu. If you're as old as you admit, would mind telling the ruler of that period?" Marshal Hua started her questioning.

"Jade lady, Ningguang." You answered calmly.

"I believe you know what happened in that timeline as well?"

"Yes, the lord of Geo, Morax died in that period." You hoped she wouldn't catch you.

"Are you perhaps a descendant or successor of Morax?

"..Yes." You knew well that your lie would be caught soon enough.

"Let me revise history, the lord Morax, had no descendants or successors. It was later found that his death was just a masquerade as he stepped down from his position. What statment can you give to prove that you're him?" The Marshal's statement may sound rash but she wasn't wrong in the slightest. History states that Morax can change forms.

"..I have nothing to say in regard to that."

"Tell me your age again."

"11,000.."

And with some other questions, you were revealed to be the Ancient lord of money, Morax. But Mora really didn't have a value in this economy of credits.

"That concludes are trial. You are free to go."

————

"Phew." You could handle intense questioning very well but your age caught up to loads of time.

However, instead of a foreign traveler's recognition, you were given citizenship. You know the Alliance was making use of you but you always had the option to leave. Coming to basic needs, you'd be living in the Cloud Knights Quaters.

————

"hmmh.." The kid grumbled not being able to get his stance right.

"Your footing is wrong, you need to have a firm balance on the ground to get your strike correct." You fixed the young man's position.

"Do you also work the Cloud Knights?" The kid was interested in knowing your identity.

"So not only are you excelled in ancient literature but also weapon handling, though that doesn't come as a surprise, you did invent the methods of swordsmanship and pole arm handling that are used till this day." Jing Yuan appeared randomly.

"General!, You mean this lady?" The kid turned to you. "Greetings lord.. Lady of Geo." The kid bowed formally.

"You don't have to bow kid, I've long stepped down from that position."

"And humble as well."

This small interaction really sparked Yanqing's curiosity. He could ask as much questions as why even the trivial things mattered. As for Jing Yuan, his moves only got more perfect with your guidance. If Jingliu would've been here, she would've taken a liking to you even Dan Feng..

He sighed, these thoughts would never be possible. He looked at you who was looking at his weapon, commenting on it's quality and full of details quality.

"General! a mara wave is coming through." A knight informed.

"Advise the civilians to stay in their homes and form a stance around the creatures, don't let them escape." Jing Yuan ordered quickly.

A blade came through the formation, it's aim to lodge into the General's chest but it disseminated into the area when it met with impenetrable shield.

"General are you okay?" You asked.

Now he understood why you were form the path of preservation. "Yes."

You were old.. Ancient would be a better them. But your stories where better that those pesky writers in the Alying Sanctum.

You could be considered a role model and a person to go to. You had advice, were calm and just had that social butterfly effect.

But being old has it's downsides often. As your age increases, erosion casts it's effect. You forget trivial things and even names unless they were in your daily interactions.

"..." You groaned walking through the corridors.

"Do you need help, lady of Geo?" A passing Cloud Knight asked.

"..Do you remember where my room is?"

".. It's on the east wing close to the General's chamber. You're in the west wing."

"..oh. where is the east wing again?"

"Let me guide you."

Although the situation of you forgetting your wallet was funny, as it was also saddening that you would succumbed to life where you would forget everyone and everything.

In the Xianzhou terms, Mara wouldn't have an effect on you but at the cost that you would be forgetting bits of yourself and there's nothing you can do about it.

I tried my best to crossover elements from both games and something has happened to my english. Thos fancy words don't come out anymore. And it's so short...

#hsr x reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan #genshin x you #blade x reader #genshin x reader #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader

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moirasdolly · 5 months ago

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˚ ⋆ﾟ୨୧ Vampire Heart ୨୧ ˚ ⋆ﾟ Arlecchino x Fem Reader

Synopsis: Running away from an arranged marriage seemed like it was the only option for you, so you set out in the middle of the night only to stumble across a mansion deep in the woods. A beautiful stranger opens the door for you before you plead your case to seek shelter in her home. You faint as the harsh conditions from the night catch up to you and you awaken in a bed that ain’t yours with the same beautiful stranger tending to you. There’s something off about her though…

Contains: NSFW (men and minors dni), graphic depictions of blood sucking, hurt/comfort (only slight angst).

Listening to ♪ ིྀ: Minerva - Deftones

Notes: I’ve been wanting to write a vamp!arle fic since FOREVERRRR and i’m finally getting to it!! This is just a quick intro so that I could get some ideas flowing ^_^ I don’t have exact plot points for what I want to happen, butttt i have a few ideas. There will definitely be a sexy blood sucking chapter though… so be prepared

❤︎ Chapter 1: Feverish

Shivers racked your body as you stumbled through the deep forest. A thick fog was beginning to settle, and it was just your luck that rain started to pour down as well. “S-Shit…” You mumble out, raising your hands above your head in a futile attempt to shield yourself from the drizzles of rain rolling down your body. By now you were soaked straight to the bone and it was getting harder and harder to trek through the foliage. Your limbs felt heavy and your limbs grew tired as you pushed on the best you could.

You were beginning to think that maybe running away from home was not the greatest idea in the world. Sure your parents wanted to marry you off to some guy twice your age just for riches and status, but in your delirious state, you thought to yourself that you would have taken that situation over what you were going through now. Your fingers were numb from carrying heavy bags full of clothes, other necessities, and a small amount of food and water to make it on your own. You weren’t quite sure where you were going when you left in the middle of the night, and you definitely didn’t have any sort of plan, but in the moment you just couldn’t take it anymore.

The hope of finding a place to rest for the night dwindled down by the second. That is until you stumbled into a large clearing, revealing a huge mansion. It was breathtaking… Black bricks made up the facade and gold accents were sprinkled throughout the building. The rooftop came into steep gables, signaling the different rooms in the house. There were few windows though, most of them dark, but a few of them emanated a soft yellow glow. You assumed someone must be home, but you wondered what they were doing awake this late at night.

The dark architecture filled your vision, and you knew it was shady, but you were willing to take the risk. You just missed the feeling of being warm, cozy, and most of all, dry. You were willing to stay in a place like this even just for the night, as long as you had shelter from the harsh outside conditions.

As you approached the intimidating structure you could have sworn you saw a figure in the window of the highest floor. The figure disappeared just as quickly as you saw it though. A sickening feeling was beginning to settle into your stomach as you made your way up to the door and wrapped your frozen fingers around the large, intricate door knocker. You knocked three times, the sound of rough iron clanging against the door echoed into the cold night. Moments later, you heard shuffling behind the door and the sound of heels approaching. The door creaked open, revealing a tall woman with a slender figure dressed in a grey, black, and red suit. You found it odd considering it was the middle of the night and she was still fully dressed, but you pushed that thought away before opening your blue-tinged lips to speak.

“I know, it’s the middle of the night, and I’m a stranger…” you started, “but I’m in dire need of somewhere to stay and-“ You couldn’t even stay upright any longer. You fell to the floor with a loud thud before you could even finish explaining yourself, and the last thing your fuzzy brain could remember was being lifted into the arms of the beautiful stranger.

Your eyes fluttered open groggily as you looked around the dark room you had been situated in. It was clear this wasn’t your own room, but you couldn’t remember anything that had happened. The last thing you remembered was fainting at the doorstep of the large castle-like home you had encountered.

Soft, cloud-like pillows were placed beneath your head and you were enveloped in silky blankets that cascaded over your body. Somehow you had been changed into dry clothes as well. The soft scent of roses wafted through the air and you almost felt like you were in heaven. At least that’s what you would have thought if a headache wasn’t brewing from the rough night you had. You tried to lift your tired body up with shaky arms before falling back into the bed again.

“Ah, you’ve awoken.” A deep voice calls to you from the shadows. Too tired to move your head in the direction of the voice, your eyes scan the room before landing on the woman whose home you were in. “What time is it?” Your voice was raspy and sore, you knew it would turn into a full blown fever in no time. “A little past 4 in the morning, you were out for some time.” The woman answered before swiftly moving to the bedside.

She pressed a cold, gloved hand to your forehead and it almost offered a bit of relief to your growing fever. She clicked her tongue before standing up straight again, “This is no good. You’ll have to stay here until you’re better.” You felt guilt bubbling up in your stomach as she offered you a place to stay, you had originally not even planned to stay past the morning, but she insisted. Your protests just fell upon deaf ears because she was not listening to a single word you said.

You gave up a while ago once your words had just become babbles of incoherent thoughts. Your feverish state began to catch up to you and you were weaving in and out of consciousness. The whole time, the woman beside you hadn’t budged though. She stayed glued to the bedside in a big comfortable chair she moved to be closer to you. If you asked her why she was seemingly so attached to you she’d brush it off and say she couldn’t watch someone be so sickly in her presence without doing anything about it, but in the back of her mind it was because she felt a flutter in her heart every time she looked at your sleeping figure. She couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was though. Perhaps it was your full, blushing cheeks, or your pouty lips, or your soft hands that tugged at the blankets to pull them closer as you tossed and turned in your sleep.

She snapped out of her thoughts as she heard you shuffling around, you were growing restless due to the fever that had worsened in just an hour. She retrieved a cool wash cloth and placed it over your forehead in an attempt to cool you off before soothing your hair down gently. “At least try to sleep soundly, dear.” She spoke in a low voice, not wanting to wake you up fully. You weren’t sure if you were hallucinating or not, but when she spoke you saw the glint of sharp fangs in her mouth. And if you looked closely, you could see the soft glowing of red whenever your eyes met hers.

Everything was a bit weird to you, but you didn’t question it due to your feverish state. The last thing you could recall before falling back asleep for the rest of the morning were the two little dots that resembled a bite mark on the right side of her neck. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought she was a blood-sucking creature that you had only heard about in folk tales.

“Sleep well, dear.” The beautiful stranger hummed before standing from her seat and making her way out of the room. She vanished from the room swiftly and you were left with nothing but sleep to consume you in no time.

#arlecchino x reader #arleccino genshin #arlecchino #arlecchino x fem reader #vampire heart ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚 #dulcet fics ♡

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twstfanblog · 5 months ago

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~Manhwa AU- A Fairytale Do-Over~ Pt 2

A/N: GUESS WHAT I FINISHED~? It's been hot as fuck over here recently and our house doesn't have central air. So writing has been hard, but I managed! Enjoy Malleus's huberous trying to hit him but he's still too short to get the lesson. Next part will be when Yuu meets Leona! Word Count: 3.9K Pairings: Yuu & Malleus (Their friendship has ended and he doesn't even know it), Sibling Malleus & Silver, Parental Lilia & Silver Prev / Next

The royal palace was massive, the size rivaling that of an urban village. And that didn't include the gardens, the patios, the woods attached to the grounds; the area was so large that there were even hidden places Lilia didn't know about. It was grand and it was lavished, all that an empirical bloodline could want. But it was empty, halls filled with priceless artwork and historical artifacts echoed with every footstep you took.

It was a sound Lilia had heard twice and never wished to hear a third time. First was when he was brought to the palace to be Maleanor’s playmate, second was the day after her and her husband's funeral.

And now, as he stared down a twitching servant, he was sure the palace had started to prep itself to return to such a state. He massaged his temples, taking a long and slow breath in, “Forgive me…I must have grown hard of hearing in my age…what did you say?”

The servant shook in terror, the silver tray he held in his hands jostling the letter on it. Lilia Vanrouge was retired as a general, but no one in the fleet of servants or guards dared to upset him. Even delivering bad news was seen as foolish and asking to be punished, “Yu-…The young miss Crowley’s invite was returned…unopened…We called their residence to ask…but the servants are stating that…she is ill and unwilling to attend…”

“…”

Lilia felt…flabbergasted. Yuu had attended Malleus's birthdays sick before, the adoration the young girl held for his charge gave her the will to suffer through hours of discomfort. No illness or annoyingly loud guests could deter her from spending time with her friend.

But even thinking that made him flinch. Malleus was not…receptive to Yuu's kindness or shows of friendship. The young fae lord had found the girl to be clingy, annoying, downright a pain. But no matter how he protested their playdates, Lilia kept scheduling them because Malleus needed someone to see as his equal.

Though he was the crowned prince, a marvel to the fae and kingdom, Yuu was by marriage his cousin and closest of equal royal standing. Malleus’s father was not of noble blood, a fact that kept his and Maleanor’s love from truly being accepted by the council. Luckily, Levan had cut a deal with Dire, being formally adopted into the Crowley line in exchange for more loyal ties with the empire's crown once Levan and Maleanor had married.

A promise that was kept with playdates to the two houses’ heirs.

Lilia bit his lip. Though both of Malleus's parents had passed and such a promise meant nothing now, the Crowley line was all Malleus had in terms of extended family. The old fae wanted them to be close should misfortune fall upon him and leave Malleus without a proper guardian.

But Malleus was his mother's son…

Haughty, arrogant, and beautiful. He looked down on nearly everyone around him, deeming them weak and powerless against his steadily growing might. He skipped his lessons; half from his naturally absent-minded nature, mostly because he felt too good to listen to weaker fae try to teach him.

So introducing a magicless girl nearly five years younger as his equal did not go well…

Since their first playdate and Malleus had stomped back into the palace covered in mud, furious, he had simply despised the Crowley child. Yuu had merely giggled and asked to play with Malleus again, saying he was funny and she liked him. To this day, Lilia wasn't sure why Malleus had been covered in mud nor why he seemed to detest Yuu so much so quickly…He refused to repeat what happened and it only sent Yuu into a fit of laughter whenever asked. He wondered if he should have used his magic to see what had caused the issue when he still had the chance…

He sighed, picking the letter up and ignoring the servant's flinching when his hand drew near. Studying it, he marveled, it really was unopened. A part of him felt the claws of dread slowly wrap around his heart, his fears becoming realized before his eyes. Had Yuu finally had enough? Were two years of verbal abuse what caused the young girl to open her eyes to Malleus’s mistreatment and simply not return.

Turning away, he dismissed the servant and bit his lip again. Malleus didn't have other playmates. Malleus, like his mother, was feared by his subjects. A fact that made companionship more difficult than Lilia wished it would be. He wondered if he should visit the Crowley duchy, slip a tonic from the royal infirmary to have the girl healed in time for the party-

“Lilia, Silver's fallen asleep again.”

Lilia looked to the doorway, his worries melting off his shoulders at the heartwarming scene.

While Malleus had created a type of feud with the Crowley girl, he completely adored Silver; claiming the boy as his brother since he first saw him sleeping in his bassinet. They stood in the opened doorway, Malleus in a more informal attire and cradling Silver to his front. The silver-haired nine-year-old fast asleep in the prince's arms releasing angelic snores.

Sighing, Lilia held his free arm out with a small smile, “Bring him here, I will watch him while you finish your studies.”

Passing the sleeping child over, Malleus scoffed under his breath and rolled his eyes, “Studies. I have no need…” His eyes catch the glint of silver in Lilia’s hand, “What is that?”

Lilia didn’t have a chance to answer, Malleus reaching up and snatching the letter out of his guardian’s hands. Huffing, Lilia used his now free hand to properly hold Silver, “We’ve been over this; don’t snatch things from people-”

“Is this…Yuu’s invitation?” Malleus stares at the envelope, turning it over in his hands and becoming bewildered as he notices it wasn’t even opened, “Have you…Not sent this to the Crowley’s Duchy yet…?” His party was only a week away and the grand duchy was at least half a day’s journey away.

“…” Sighing, Lilia turned away from Malleus’s inquisitive eyes, “The invitation was returned unopened. Word is that the young lady Crowley is ill and unable to attend…”

Malleus stood in silence, staring at Lilia’s back before looking down at the letter in his hand, “Oh…” With a smile, he flicked the letter past Lilia and sent it directly into the lit fireplace.

“Malleus!” Lilia watched the letter burn, flaring green in a flash as the wax melted into the flames. Turning around he tried to pin a glare at the giddy preteen, “Why would you do that!?”

With a shrug, Malleus turned around with a smile. Wiping his hands of the situation as though he had easily solved all his problems, “There’s no need for it. She’s ill, isn’t she? Plus, they returned the invite. It’s within my right to do with it as I will.” He clapped his hands together as his thoughts ran wild, the very promise of Yuu not attending his party making him more and more excited for the event, “This shall be my most wonderful birthday yet! Maybe I will be just as lucky next year and she’ll still be ill.”

Lilia could only frown as Malleus laughed, walking out of the room. While Lilia hoped the young prince would go to his lessons, he knew he was more than likely heading toward the gardens or to his growing horde room. Sighing, the bi-colored fae looks down to his sleeping child. It would all be much easier if he just placed Silver as the prince’s playmate. Malleus adored Silver, but Silver was quiet. Silver was so quiet. A fact that would only echo in this massive palace as the years go on. Lilia could only hope that he’d find a cure for whatever sleep curse affected his boy. Maybe Silver could be the bridge between the two; a thesaurus for two similar yet wildly different languages.

He hoped that Malleus wouldn’t be too upset on the day of his party.

The servants would say the day of Malleus's party was divine. Not a tantrum, eye-roll, nor threat of permanent dismissal in sight. He allowed himself to be dressed easily in his outfit, black silks and furs, precious gems stitched to mimic the night sky their lands were famous for and a winding silver banded crown. Malleus looked like a prince of the infamous Noctorn Empire and he was excited.

He had talked Lilia and Silver's ears off at breakfast; his plans to speak to everyone for once since Yuu wouldn't be attached to his side and babbling nonstop. He didn't notice the concerned look in Lilia's eyes when he'd excused himself to use the emergency phone. Lilia called the Crowley duchy directly to ask if they were truly not attending the party. Crewel merely stating they had sent their gifts and wished Malleus a happy birthday in their absence. Yuu hadn't even been heard over the call.

As the beginning of the event drew closer, Lilia felt his nerves worsen, as if a looming threat was breathing down his neck and waiting to strike. A feeling that only grew stronger as Silver lost his fight with wakefulness, falling asleep a little after the first few guests started to populate the entry hall. Lilia had gathered the deadweight child into his arms, tasking Malleus to greet the guests alone while he placed Silver in a more docile environment until he woke up.

Malleus tried, he truly did. He spoke aloud and clearly as Lilia had always instructed him, head held high so that his chin and the ground were two parallel lines. He tried to shake people's hands, growing frustrated as they refused to release the brightly wrapped gifts to do such a thing. After the 6th awkward shuffle away from his outstretched hands he simply elected to not shake anymore of the lord's hands. After the 15th nervous and stuttered hello, he stopped greeting them too.

He huffed, mildly pouting as he left the entry hall, walking toward the guarded room that held his mountain of presents; gifts to be opened and cataloged once all the guests had left. Greeting people alone wasn't as fun as he imagined it would be. It would have been easier if Lilia hadn't left to tend to Silver. Lilia was a social creature in such a way that Malleus never understood, neither him nor Yuu made sense to him as to how they got people to respond so easily to them. But then again, the very thought of Yuu beside him and greeting everyone in his place made him more frustrated. The sight of her gift, as always wrapped in black and white with a bright green bow, only worsened his mood.

Slamming his hand into the brick, leaving behind Cracks and a medium-sized indent he made the choice to enter the banquet hall. (Unaware of the few cowering party guests slowly backing away from him).

The room was filled with people, fine fabrics swishing around the room in elegant dances. Looking around his enthusiasm dipped again. There were so many adults more than children his age, adults that would only give him a half glance and a respectful bow. Malleus walked along the edges of crowds, trying to see if any conversation piqued his interest or if any of the adults would glance his way to wish him a happy birthday. He received plenty of quick bows, long-winded birthday blessings with his full title. A few had even tried to start a conversation, beginning with a comment on their relation to his mother or father. Only to suck their mouths in like they had tasted the worst type of lemon flavor, remembering he never meant his mother nor his father. From there they would bow again and turn to scamper away into a crowd, leaving him alone again.

Just as he began to wonder just where Lilia was placing Silver, he saw someone who made his hopes relight. Another child his age was standing by a window, looking out the large stained glass with an air of boredom around him. They were a noble of origin from outside the empire, their clothing was brightly colored and heavily patterned. A crown of beads and braids kept dark brown hair neat yet wild, a pair of small, round lion ears peaking through. The hint of brown skin visible from the edge of their loose sleeves and crossed arms.

Gathering a bit of courage, swallowing to wet his mouth, Malleus walked forward. He smiled and tilted his head, tapping the other on the shoulder to gain his attention, “Hello. Are you enjoying the party?”

The other boy seemed to startle, almost as if he had planned on being invisible for hours more and Malleus's acknowledgement broke his trance. The boy turned to him, showing his face was marred over one eye with a long thin scar, the bright emerald green slightly duller than the other.

Once he saw who was speaking to him, he frowned. Turning away and looking at Malleus from the corner of his brighter eye as though he was a bug, “Go away.” Short, simple, and sour.

Malleus startled himself. No one had…ever dismissed him in such a way. Even when Lilia sent him away to his own devices, He said as such with an air of teasing, jovial. This…this was just rude. Narrowing his eyes, he stepped into the other boy's line of sight when he fully turned away, “Why should I? You are aware this is my birthday party, aren’t you? You should feel honored that I'm speaking to you.”

The boy scoffs, facing him directly and placing his hands on his hips. Smug, arrogant; he wasn't taller by any means but it felt as though he was looking down his nose at him, “Why would I feel honored being spoken to by a lizard?”

“…” Lightning flashed outside, bringing the already soft ambiance into a fearful silence, “A LIZARD!?” YOU DARE CALL ME A LIZARD!?”

“A lizard who throws tantrums at that.”

“Leona!” Two older men quickly rush over, looking similar to ‘Leona’ with their attire, ears, and, face yet more alike each other with their matching bold red hair. The shorter, younger man had gripped Leona by the shoulders, trying to force the boy into a bow, “Apologize! You promised you'd behave tonight!”

The older man, his red hair streaked with thin yet vivid lines of grey bowed, “A thousand apologies, Your Highness. Please forgive my youngest son. He is still recovering from an injury you see-”

“I don't care about excuses!” Malleus glared, stomping his foot as the lightning flashing again and sent the room into spasms of eerie green light. He pointed toward the scowling Leona, “He called me a lizard!”

“Malleus, lower your tone. You are among company.” Lilia walked over, placing a hand onto his charge’s shoulder and pulling him back as a physical reminder to calm down, “What's happened here?”

“It seems my son-”

Scoffing loudly, Leona rolled his head back and spoke aloud, “I called the stupid lizard, a lizard and he threw a fit over it.”

“Leona.” The younger man strained, shaking Leona by his shoulders in an effort to physically shake the sense into him.

Lilia frowned, looking down his nose at the defiant child with lidded eyes, “That's rather rude don't you think?” He looked from the corner of his eye, catching the eldest man's gaze, “Duke Kingscholar. I wasn't aware you were raising such…brazen children...”

The duke's bow seemed to deepen, “Truly, I offer apologies for every star in the sky. My youngest is recovering from an injury and fever. He isn't thinking clearly-”

The eldest brother leaned down, whispering to the sour-faced child while their father tried to save face with Lilia, “Leona, apologize. Dad's gonna make you sit in the carriage again if you don't-”

“Fine then! I didn't want to come to this dumb party anyway!”

The duke sprang up, his face furious as he rounded on his youngest son, “LEONA!”

Malleus could feel the lightning crackle outside, the bolts dancing along the sealed windows in eagerness to strike Leona down, “How…dare you!? My birthday party is the highest honor any could hope to attend, and you stand here, wasting it and calling my wrath!”

Leona scoffed, rolling his eyes before leveling Malleus with an almost arctic glare, “Who'd consider it an honor to attend a party of someone they don't even like?”

The eldest boy tried to pull his brother back, worry on his face as the lights along the wall started to flash and flicker with the green electricity struggling to breach the walls, “Leona. Enough.”

Malleus glared back, eyes almost glowing from his rage, “I don't care if you like me or not. I am your prince and you will respect me!”

Leona lets out a loud and sharp laugh, shaking himself free of his brother's hands to step closer to Malleus, “I don't respect you and I don't like you. No one does.”

“That's…That's A lie! People like me!”

“Oh, look around!” Leona gestures his arms out, only continuing when Malleus makes small cautious glances around the room, “No one here likes you, they're all afraid of you! And you're too stupid to see it, you pompous motherfuc-”

Leona was all but snatched into the air, his older brother holding his body in one arm while the other pressed tightly to his mouth. He bowed, a mumble of his brother not feeling well before he quickly absconded from the area.

Duke Kingscholar sighed, offering one last apology and a birthday blessing before he followed his sons out.

Malleus watched them leave along with everyone else. And once the Kingscholars had left he looked around the room once more, a new feeling of a sinking stone growing heavier and heavier. No one would meet his eyes, nothing past an accidental glance before quickly bowing. No one other than Lilia came to his defense, every last guest letting him be berated and mocked by a spare. And for what? To stand at the edge of their tif and cower? To…to look at him with fearful eyes?

Only once the Kingscholars left did he realize just how far away everyone else was in that moment. How even as the lightning cleared, the storm calming, no one dared approach him. No one dared look him in the eyes.

The party continued, the Kingscholars did not return and Malleus was happy for that at least. Leona was…a form of abrasive that he didn't care to deal with ever again.

He thought this birthday would be amazing, the best of his short eleven years of life. Instead, he spent the night beside Lilia, holding onto his hand and refusing to look up. Not out of any true nervousness or shame. He just…didn't want to see how no one looked his way.

They danced, they had a meal, they had cake. Everyone left after another hour of standing and talking. Were birthday parties always so…boring? Or was it just because it was his 11th birthday? Was it because Silver didn't wake midway through for cake cutting like he normally did? Was it…was it because Yuu wasn't there?

The thought annoyed him. Yuu would have never left him alone if she was there, she never had any other celebration. Clinging onto him to greet guests, chasing him through the halls while the adults spoke and networked. A leeching shadow that no matter where he went, she would worm her way into the same place at some point.

“Malleus?”

The horned fae looked up, a half-asleep Silver holding the signature black and white present out to him, “Do you want me to have Yuu's present again this year? Father said she didn't come…”

“…” Sighing, Malleus took the gift from Silver's hands, ripping the paper with an annoyed air to the act, “No. I'll keep it. She's ill; there's no telling what kind of human illness you'll catch from whatever she's coughed on in here.”

Lilia sighed, but didn't speak more. Gathering the wrapping paper of the other gifts Malleus had opened and quickly discarded for not holding his interest. He watched his son yawn, smiling as he pointed to the small table with tea and two thin slices of cake, “Silver, have some tea and cake; it'll wake you up a bit.”

“But, you said I can't have sweets past 9pm?”

“Well, I decided you can today. You normally are awake to have a slice of cake during the party…”

“I know…I'm sorry.”

“Silly boy. There's nothing to apologize for…”

As Malleus looked into the gift box in his hands, the sounds of his guardian and brother faded into the background, equally muffled by the crackling of the fireplace. Inside the present was a pair of oddly knitted tubes. To anyone else, they'd be a pair of hideous mittens for someone who didn't even have hands, but Malleus knew what they really were.

Yuu had asked him, earlier that season when he was again forced to have tea with her, if his horns ever got cold in the Winter. He had glared, telling her to not ask such stupid questions, having no time nor the knowledge to explain that his horns never felt cold in Winter nor hot in Summer and he didn't know why. An answer that seemed to have not satisfied the annoying girl, since she had made and gifted him a pair of unseemly horn warmers.

He held them in his hands, the knots sloppy yet tight. The pattern was off and he's certain there were two different shades of green in the same area. They were ugly, plain and simple. But they were something other than a grotesque or a gargoyle cruelly ripped from their post. Useless, priceless gems he had no need for or the rare foolish gift of iron weapons and accessories. The black yarn was too thick, almost swallowing the designs made with the green yarn. Both colors pressed so close that the black seemed greenish in the right light.

Just as Yuu's eyes would.

He knew the Crowley girl's eyes were black, a brown so dark and deep that they mimicked a starless new moon sky mixed with the dying breath of a sunset. But when…when she looked him in the eyes…they almost seemed to leech the green from his own.

“…Lilia.” A beat of silence before the older fae gave a questioning hum, “Yuu's been sick before right?”

“…” Lilia perks up, turning to face Malleus directly as he notices he had opened Yuu’s present, “…Um…yes, a few times before. Why do you ask?”

“…Does…does she feel better soon? She isn’t sick for long, right?”

“…” Lilia smiles, stepping closer and ruffling the hair in the space between Malleus’s horns with a giggle, “I'm sure she will better quicker than you expect! Your little friend will be right as rain and back in the palace for playdates before you know it!”

Malleus pouts, slapping his guardian’s hands away and trying to smooth his ruffled hair. The woolen tubes in his hands not helping in the slightest as they only made his hair more frizzy, “I don’t want her back here! I just don’t want to hear about the bothersome thing dying!” He stands, forgoing his other presents but keeping the ugly warmers locked in his grasp unknowingly, “I’m going to bed! Even when she isn’t around, she manages to ruin everything…”

Floating, Lilia flipped himself upside down, pinching at a furious Malleus’s cheek, “Aw~! You do like her!”

“NO! I DON’T!”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #yuu oc #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #silver vanrouge #malleus & yuu #malleus x yuu #manhwa au

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