#i'm planning on writing more for it after that for future events (and maybe just for fun too)

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

not really that important, but i was able to find a favorite song that i sort of lost for a little while and now the actual story of the bio portal au has a name

yay :]

[ckret2]

@marsupials-of-mars submitted:

I was planning to do maybe a fic and more doodles of this but now I'm busy with school so I might as well show what I did do!

Based on how the goldilocks fic seems to posit that Bill at his best is a silly professor who loves to teach his own way

Introducing Professor Locke!

Things about this idea:

-post redemption, however that will go. I'm calling it an AU because I imagine it is not your plan for what happens after lol, but currently canon-compliant.

-Bill is at first not very on board with the idea of working in the higher education system. It's a scam and it's dumb that they tell adult people how to think.

-He's eventually convinced to bless Backupsmore with his tutelage, on the grounds that they're less stuck up there, they seem to care about giving their students opportunities despite their backgrounds, and the kids there care about learning rather than going to college just because their parents said they should.

-Ford uses his academic connections to vouch for Bill even though he is very mysterious and has no academic records. This is another reason why they picked Backupsmore: i's a little more lax when presented with a shockingly smart mystery professor. Bill gets an interview and charms the pants off the university president.

-He teaches "astrophysics" in theory (that's the job description) but he ends up teaching a little bit of everything.

-He's one of those professors you either adore or despise. He's very loud, often outright mean, and if you're too shy to speak up in class he does not give a SHIT about you. You gotta want it!

-However, his class is notoriously easy. He thinks homework and tests are facist, but he's required to have a curriculum, so his "quizzes" are like a few true or false questions and then a short answer where he asks something he thinks would be funny or wants to hear about, like "what's the dumbest thing another student has said in class since the last test and why was it dumb" or "fashion advice: what's the coolest thing I wore this last week? Extra credit: draw something cooler I SHOULD wear."

-as a result, students who have completely unrelated majors will take his class. If they end up being interested, he deems them worthy. If they're just there to be lazy, he will bully them into dropping out.

-Mabel buys him stickers to put on people's tests when they pass, or to just hand out when they something he likes. He gets along most with the college kids who know how to appreciate a classic gold star.

-He really wanted a big pretty lecture hall, where his voice would echo and he could point at a big chalkboard. But all Backupsmore could provide was a cinderblock and linoleum basement classroom. The lights buzz very loudly and it smells musty. They have stools and folding tables. Bill finds he enjoys the more intimate environment where he can walk between the tables and also sneak up on people.

-He's broken multiple folding tables by trying to do the cool professor thing where you hop up onto your desk and cross your legs and talk all casual. He is able to do this on his own desk thankfully. It's aluminum.

-Ford gets a bit nervous if he did the right thing when bill tells his school stories at the dinner table, so he finds an excuse to accompany Bill to a campus event where he can meet some of his students.

-His fears are quickly assuaged when he sees how beloved Bill is and how well he gets along with the kids. When he eventually joins in on one of these conversations, one of the students asks if he's Sixer. The students are excited by this. Bill tries to shut them up, to partial success.

OK I guess I just ended up writing the fic more or less so enjoy I guess lol.

Aww, this is adorable! Thank you! (And the fact that you're imagining a future for Bill makes me so happy.) He's absolutely be the weirdest professor in the school and he'd ADORE having a crowd full of trusting impressional minds whose parents are paying him to change the way they think. Talk about playing to his strengths.

Your idea is so wholesome, meanwhile the moment I saw "Professor Bill" I went,

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Dad!Hwang Hyunjin x F!Reader TW : lots of arguing ; reader insecurities and self doubts ; depressed Hyunjin ; Hyunjin is also kind of an asshole ; still very angsty ; Word Count : 2.3k Request : I'm not sure if you guys will request for part 2... I'm writing from the future! A/N : I'm writing this prior to part 1 even being released so, I'm hoping this is what you guys want to happen with part 2! (Writing this after I finished writing this part and you all are definitely going to get a part 3... After I write 2 parts for the rest of the guys. I'll let this one simmer)

Hyunjin sat alone in the once shared apartment, canceling all plans and events that had priorly scheduled for him to attend. How was he supposed to go out and pretend to have fun when everything that he loved and would want to come home to had left him? He had never felt so alone, and even still, he knew that the way he was feeling right now wasn’t even close to the way he had made you feel for so long. 

He couldn’t even go to the dorms to try to find some kind of comfort there, not just because he knew that all of the guys would inevitably agree that he was in the wrong, but because he felt that he didn’t deserve that kind of comfort. He didn’t deserve to be made to feel better, not after what he had done to you and put you through. Even though his phone rang and vibrated constantly, he refused to answer for only one reason, and that reason is that none of the calls or texts were from you. 

You were avoiding him, rightfully so, but it broke his heart to know that this was his fault, and to not know what was going on with you and his baby. You had a lot of friends in America, friends that he never looked at as threats before, but now he was nervous, he was terrified. You were one of the most beautiful girls in the world, without a doubt, any guy would be lucky to have you… He didn’t want anyone else to have you though. What if he had just pushed you into the arms of another guy? Not only would he lose the love of his life, but he would lose his baby too… He couldn’t lose the both of you… He didn’t want to lose either of you. 

It had been a whole month since you left Korea… It had been your home for so long that going back home felt weird to you. Nothing felt the same as it did before, everything looked different. It hadn’t seemed like that long that you had been gone, but now that you were back, it felt like it had been forever. 

For the first 2 weeks you waited for Hyunjins phone call, laying awake at night wondering if he had read your note yet. You wondered how he would react to it, how he would feel… Maybe you had gone too far running back home and taking the baby with you. Maybe you should have just talked to him about it. 

Then the next week passed and the week after that, and you came to the conclusion that he either never came back to the house, forgetting about you and the baby entirely, or he just read the note and didn’t care that you were gone. You were leaning more towards the one where he didn’t care though, it was obvious to you that he never cared. That’s when you allowed yourself to really start living. With the help of your family, it was easier to get settled in. You had a job now, you’d be starting it soon while your parents watched your daughter for you. You had even started looking at apartments so that you wouldn’t have to stay with your family forever. 

Everything seemed to be falling into place perfectly, at least until your phone started vibrating on your nightstand at 7 in the morning. It was the worst hour, especially since your daughter hadn’t even gone to sleep until 4. You were exhausted and disoriented, and while you didn’t want to answer the call, the constant vibrating made it quite clear that whoever it was wasn’t going to stop calling until you picked up. 

“What?” Your voice exuded your anger, even though it was no louder than a whisper, you were pissed at whoever it was for keeping you awake and potentially waking up your daughter as well. You didn’t even know who was on the other end, but whoever it was had better have a damn good reason for calling at this hour. 

“H-Hey…” A shaky voice croaked out, shaky breaths following the stammered out word. “Is it a bad time? I… I’m not very good with time differences and… I just wanted to hear your voice… And I… I want to know how the baby is doing? How… How is my girl?” It was obviously Hyunjin, you didn’t even need to fully listen to what he was saying to know that it was him, you knew his voice better than anyone else’s. 

And that’s why you were even more irritated. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s 7 in the goddamn morning, of course it’s a bad time!” You seethed, although quietly, still aware that your daughter was sleeping and hoping that you’d be able to end this call fast enough to get back to the warmth of your bed and fall back asleep. “She’s sleeping. I should be sleeping. You pick a fine time to finally learn how to pick up the damn phone and get in touch though. I’m going back to bed. Goodnight.” 

“You stole my daughter… You practically kidnapped her… I could have gone to the police, I could have done a lot of things and… And all I wanted to do was hear from you… I wanted to know how she was doing.” Even though he was still crying as he said it, his words absolutely infuriated you. Your hands were trembling with anger, your entire body was shaking, it felt like you would completely collapse if you kept standing, so you made your way to the couch and dropped down onto it. All semblance of tiredness was gone now, completely replaced by such an irate fury you couldn’t even explain. 

“Don’t you dare try to pull that shit with me. Your daughter this, your daughter that, why is she only your daughter when I finally get fed up with your shit and leave? You could have heard from me at any point in the last 13 fucking months. You could have seen her and saw how she was doing for the last 13 fucking months, Hyunjin. You didn’t care for how we were doing before, so don’t you try to say that you care now.” 

“I was working!” He shouted into his phone, the high pitch of it causing the speaker on your end to ring in your ear. “You could have called me at any time though and I would have picked up! Why are you putting all of the blame on me?! You didn’t even call or text to check up on me or see how I was doing? Why am I always the one who has to call?!” 

“You’re such a piece of shit!” You shouted, wanting nothing more than to throw your phone across the room, but you also wanted to let him have it. You wanted to go off on him, you wanted to scream at him and tell him how awful he was. “I was working too! I was raising your daughter while trying to be a fucking home maker and keep the fucking house clean and cook dinner. I couldn’t even leave the fucking house because of the attention that you brought onto me and her when you announced that she was here and you just get to come and go as you please while I was trapped in the fucking house. I didn’t have to call you or text you to see how you were doing though because all I had to do was open the internet or Youtube and see all of the wonderful things that you were out doing while I was trapped in those four walls. You should have called because it would have let me know that at least you were thinking about us… But obviously you weren’t.” 

Hyunjin sighed loudly, and there was a short period of silence before he started talking again, quieter once more like he had been at the beginning of the call. “That’s not true… I thought about you all the time. You can ask Felix, you can ask any of the guys. You and the baby are all I talked about when I was away from home.” He sounded like he was pleading, but you were pissed, an entire year of pent up frustration was bound to be let loose at some point, you were just happy that you were able to let it all out on the one who had been the cause of all of it in the first place. 

“It would be easy to believe you if there was even a single time that you texted me, called me, video called, literally anything. But there wasn’t… You never did any of that. I gave up everything to be with you, to create this family with you, and you gave up nothing at all. You can think about us, you can talk about us all you want… But you made me feel like I was nothing, you made me feel like I was forgettable… And you’re really lucky that she’s only a year and a half and she’s too young to understand what’s going on… And I guess I’m really lucky that you were never around so she doesn’t have to miss you and I don’t have to answer any questions about where dad is.” Your words were sharp, they were meant to cause damage, and the trembling breath that you heard from his end was sign enough that you had hit him where it hurt. It was about damn time that he felt even some of the pain that he had caused you. 

“I know… I know that I’m an awful boyfriend. I know that I’m even worse as a father… I never claimed that I would be good at those things… But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t love you and her…” He whimpered, sniffling loudly. “I still do love you and her… You both are… You’re my world and… I know that I blew my chances. I messed up… And there’s nothing I can do… But I want to be able to see her. I can’t do that if you’re so far away… I need to be able to see her…” 

It took everything in you not to let out the loud groan that was building in your chest. It took everything for you to not cut him off and start going off on him again. Instead, you let out a loud sigh, your leg bouncing now with your agitation. “You had an entire year to see her. You only stopped by for an hour every month if we were lucky. Don’t use her as leverage, I’m not going to let you do that. I already have a job set up here, and my parents and I are going to start looking at places soon. The life that I thought that I’d have in Korea with you was clearly just a pipe dream, and it turned out to be everything but a dream for me. I’ve been living a life separated from you for over a year now… And you were fine with it since you thought you had me trapped over there with you. That’s over… It’s over now. If you want to see her, you can see her during one of your multiple tours or business trips. It’ll be just like before.” 

“So that’s it?” The sadness that had once laced his voice was gone now, his words were now almost eerily void of any emotion at all. “I guess you’ll just go to one of your little friends… One of the guys that you used to hang out with in school. Maybe he can play daddy to my daughter. I’m sure you’d like that though, just getting rid of me completely.” The assumptions had completely caught you off guard, not just because of how wrong they were, but because of how ridiculous they sounded coming from someone like him. 

“You’re kidding me… right?” You asked, in a state of absolute disbelief. “There’s no way that you’re being serious… You couldn’t be. I legitimately can’t fucking believe you right now. Of all things that you’re going to accuse me of… This is it?” He huffed in response, but he didn’t speak. Maybe he too realized just how ridiculous of an accusation it was, but now it was too late, he had already said it. “I was home all the fucking time. I finally get the fucking backbone it took to leave your ass, and you’re going to say that I’m the one doing some shady shit like that?! Do you know how many nights I laid awake in bed wondering what you were doing, who you were doing? You had multiple opportunities to cheat on me, to shack up with a multitude of famous people… And I still never accused you of doing it. I constantly compared myself to the women you would stand next to at award shows or modeling… things and… And I never said shit! I felt like fucking trash! And you’re gonna sit here… you’re gonna say that I’m gonna do shit like that… When I have been nothing but loyal to you and this family that you claimed you wanted… Just waiting to be loved by you… Hell.. I would have been fine even being noticed by you… So you know what, Hyunjin. Fuck you. I’m done with this conversation. I’m done with you. Goodbye.” 

You didn’t give him the chance to talk, you quickly hung up your phone and tossed it to the end of the couch. Not just because of how pissed you were… No… You were devastated. You were a mess. It was nice to let it all out, but those emotions were raw, you were still hurt by what he had done, and he had just layered more pain on top. 

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[loudclan-clangen]

(I thought of something funny)

Whenever Owlstar comes back to camp from solo walks, there's just this giant banner at the entrance reading "Welcome Back, Cheater."

Slitsplash swears they didn't put it up, but appreciates whoever did it.

Meanwhile, Fiercestripe is smirking in the background. (She did it)

They’re throwing him a party!

(˃̣̣̥▽˂̣̣̥) These asks all flow together so well I genuinely cannot tell if they are multiple people or just one person who is SO PISSED. Made my night to see these all come in at about 2am. If Owlstar has 100 haters im one of them, if Owlstar has 1 hater it's me, if Owlstar has no haters im dead.

I do! It was actually incredibly comical from my perspective because Eklutna showed up, did fuck all for 5 moons, got pregnant, then promptly died giving birth, to which i went "aw, that sucks" clicked on her kits, and SAW THAT THIER DAD WAS THE LEADER, SOMETHING THAT I DID NOT KNOW COULD HAPPEN. Eklutna didn't even have any romantic like for him, to my recollection, and Owlstar had like maybe a single tick for her? It was really just lucky rng I guess. Owl and Silt actually didn't break up in the game at all, in my original draft for the story, when i was just writing notes as i played, Siltsplash was a lot more... okay with it? Like they were pissed but their personality was a lot more demure so they didn't act on anything really. The exact quote from the draft was: "I won’t lie to you. I’m angry. Starclan, I’m more than angry, I’m furious. I have half the mind to tell you to leave and never come back.” They paused, seeing Owlstar deflate and taking some slight, bitter satisfaction in it before continuing, “But that wouldn’t be fair to those kits. They didn’t ask to be born, much less to you. They deserve to have a family, or as much of it as they are able to have, and starclan help me we’re in this together." It certainly fit with what I knew about them then, but given my ability to look forward and see future events, I decided that a break up made more sense.

Don't be sorry! I am not currently in artfight, I'm considering it but I wouldn't be able to be very active due to school, and I don't want to take another break from this blog so soon after my last, so it's not very high up on my list of priorities. I'm kinda casually working on refs for the more popular characters, so there's a chance I'll get those done and join a team, especially if it's something you guys want me to do. If that happens I'll be sure to let you guys know! I am now in art fight! I gave into peer pressure again. (In a good way).

I don't think even Silt knew. Siltsplash was OUT of it after their conversation with Owlstar, (see: the Eklutna hallucination), and they probably didn't even know where they were headed until they reached the nursery. But after setting eyes on the kits, Siltslpash knew that there was only one option. Yes, they "took the kids in the divorce" but truly they weren't thinking about revenge. They just saw kids who needed something that they could provide.

In terms of writing, though, since I have hundreds of moons of foresight, it was a total bait and switch. I needed to make sure that people had a reason to come back after the break and any comic with kittens in it usually gets a lot of attention, so it was a "marketing" decision to split up the moon the way that I did, in order to make sure that there wasn't too bad of a fall off in interaction for the blog.

In game Eklutna had an affair with Owlstar, died giving birth, and the "died giving birth" event overwrote the "reveal affair" event so technically, in game Owlstar didn't reveal the affair... ever? (Though I had written in my notes that he told Siltsplash who took them as their own). Story wise, Owlstar hadn't planned to tell anyone until the kits started asking about who their father was. Then he would tell them, and would probably reveal it to the clan when they earned their names and were able to become deputy. But, when Eklutna died all that went out the window. For all his faults, Owlstar is not a bad dad, and he would never leave his kits orphaned, even if it would get him in a lot of trouble to do so. He really does care for them, and he feels terrible about how much he's screwed up their lives so far.

He did bad, deitycrows, he did bad. He cheated on his mate and then his affair partner died in childbirth so he's not very popular rn, I've got to be honest.

I don't think it helps at all but, Owlstar did really genuinely like Eklutna! Now, was that because she never opposed him on anything and flattered him with adoring compliments at every opportunity? Possibly. But the "Starclan said" thing was honestly just more of an excuse for him. He woulda had an affair anyway, he just wouldn't have intentionally had kits with her.

:) Eklutna liked... the power that Owlstar held. She liked that he was chosen by Starclan to lead the clan, she liked that his kits are meant to inherit the position of leadership, and she liked that as the mother of his kits she would have a lot of control over both him and the leader after him. As far as his personality... he's kinda a clown but she could live with that.

To be frank: The order of inheritance is ABSOLUTELY FUCKED. If Eklutna had lived, it would be easy. She would take over as deputy until one of the kits was old enough to hold the position. But, since she's dead and Owlstar's only heirs are literal infants, as their adoptive parent Siltsplash is still the deputy for now. What happens when the kits reach adulthood is kinda up for debate. As Owlstar's closest descendant, Songkit should be deputy upon earning his warrior name, BUT Siltsplash is very much against that plan, and the kits might not want to go against their most attentive parent. So the very unhelpful answer is: We have to wait and see what the characters decide.

Thank you so much! I love to hear from first time viewers and see what you guys think of the characters! I'm glad that the dialogue worked so well and Eklutna definitely has Sol vibes! You look at both of them and go "in what world would this plan work the way you wanted it to???"

[yanderes-galore]

Oooh can I please request platonic yandere brother Luffy hcs please who’s sister came a marine unlike her brother(s) 🙏 love to hear your thoughts 

Sure! Bear with me as I'm not that far into the story yet but I watched some of a video to help me understand more of the world :) So this doesn't focus on an specific plot point. It's a general idea. (I want to write One Piece and I'm impatient-)

Yandere! Platonic! Luffy with Marine Sister! Darling

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Delusional behavior, Kidnapping, Jealousy, Violence, Forced companionship.

You were already quite different from your fellow foster brothers.

First of all, you were the only foster sister of them.

While you were fostered in the same family as Luffy, Ace, and Sabo... you didn't have the same goals.

Unlike them you didn't want to be a pirate.

At least, not after your experience with the Bluejam Pirates.

Before you all went your separate ways, Luffy was probably the closest with you.

He often spoke to you about becoming "King of The Pirates", often wanting you to join him.

You'd simply nod and smile, not having the heart to tell him that you didn't want to be a pirate after your experiences.

Secretly you hoped he would give up the goal as you loathed the idea of harming him in the future.

Pirate or not, you still saw him and Ace primarily as your brothers.

However, even if you hated the thought of being a pirate, you played and cared for Luffy + Ace all the same.

You still felt you should be supportive of your brothers, even comforting Luffy as Sabo's supposed "death" and Ace's departure.

For a while it was just you and Luffy, your younger brother still just as excited to be a pirate.

Luffy respected you when you were younger, often coming to you for adventure.

When you four were together you often loved to cause trouble on the island.

Although, Luffy noticed you weren't as into it when you were older.

The thought upset him.

Luffy would always ask why you don't want to hang out anymore.

You would brush him off, but Luffy is known to be stubborn.

Eventually you know you can't keep him in the dark for much longer.

You want to leave this island, it's about time you did.

Sabo's gone, Ace is off to be a pirate, the only one you have now is Luffy.

Luffy was 16 almost 17 by the time you decided to leave the island, you were 19.

He had grown attached to you, even though you no longer wished to partake in your pirate games.

When Luffy confronted you, you admitted you were planning to leave the island.

Luffy protests, saying how he wanted to start a pirate crew with you.

However, you shut him down, ignoring how your brother clung to you.

"Maybe we'll meet again in the future?" You bring up, making Luffy pause for a moment.

"You want to explore those vast seas and become the Pirate King, don't you?" You push a melancholy smile on your face.

"Yeah!" Luffy chirps in an excited tone. "But... I wanted to do it with you, sis...."

"I have my own journey to take..." You sigh, giving him one last hug. "But I'm sure we'll meet again in those waters."

Luffy was reluctant to let you leave, but with some convincing, he let his sister go.

About half a year later Luffy sets off on his own journey, starting the events of One Piece.

While your brothers had roles against the government... you had managed to find your place in the Marines/Navy.

You had been pardoned for past crimes and were given a recommendation to enlist due to your knowledge in firearms and tactics.

Throughout the years you even managed to rank as an officer, often being considered a useful asset within the Marines.

You never forgot about your brothers.

No, how could you when you often saw wanted posters and heard rumors?

You heard of Ace and internally smiled to know he was doing well.

You heard rumors of Sabo but were skeptical on the legitimacy of the claims.

Then you heard of Luffy... the rumors making your heart clench.

It was definitely your Luffy... you could see that in the posters.

It seemed like he put together a crew of his own, which impressed you.

Although... you hated the idea of being enemies.

As Luffy's journey progresses, you keep more of an eye on him than the usual pirates.

Other Marines, including a fellow officer you're partnered with, would occasionally notice you looking over a wanted poster of Luffy.

They think it's because he's garnering a reputation... which is partially true.

But you have different reasons.

You silently hope you never have to confront your old brothers.

You can deal with other pirates, that's no issue.

Yet you have too much of an attachment to Luffy and Ace.

Unfortunately, fate was just as cruel as the waters you sailed on.

Eventually you encountered Luffy since he managed to catch the eye of the Marines once again.

Reluctantly you're put on the field, sat right in front of Luffy.

Luffy paused his fighting once your presence was announced, your name still familiar in his mind.

Then he saw you.

You looked similar to how you once looked back on the island... yet were dressed completely in Marine gear.

Not the usual stuff, either.

You were high in rank.

Luffy felt... betrayed yet also... excited to see you again.

It's been, what, two years later?

You're both adults now yet with such different paths.

You two most likely fight, even though you're both not into it.

You keep trying to say you'll leave him alone if he turns back, if he just stops this.

Meanwhile Luffy keeps trying to convince you to join his crew even now.

Imagine if by the end of your confrontation Luffy does everything in his power to capture you.

He plays it off as wanting to take you as a hostage.

His crew goes along with it, but they can tell Luffy has a past with you.

You fight him the best you can but eventually are forced to surrender.

Imagine if Luffy kept you tied on the ship, still trying to play off the role of kidnapping a hostage until you're out at sea with his crew.

After that, Luffy becomes overly friendly.

He's excitedly rambling to you about how much he's missed you, not quite believing that you'd willingly join the Marines.

He just thinks maybe his sister was captured and forced into the role!

Yes, you must just be misguided.

After all, you two were meant to be pirates together!

I can see him excitedly rambling about Ace and maybe even Sabo to you, saying he's seen them again on his journey and now he's finally found you...!

He's too delusional to consider you an enemy.

Zoro and Usopp keep saying how you're a prominent Marine officer, obviously confused on how he knows you.

Only for Luffy to chime in that you're brother and sister.

You correct him by saying you were foster siblings, but Luffy brushes that off.

It becomes clear to the others and you that Luffy didn't take you as a hostage.

He took you onto the ship in an attempt to change your mind again.

Luffy's dragging you around the ship in your ropes to meet his crew, never keeping an arm off you.

You clearly look annoyed... but part of you is happy to see him again.

Although you know he'll never understand you....

Luffy holds you on his ship in an attempt to convert you into being a pirate.

Which you're forced to be put through.

Even if you tell Luffy you hate pirates, he doesn't believe you.

You can't hate pirates... all your siblings are pirates...!

Luffy is definitely just ignoring the facts.

Even his crew can see your irritation when Luffy clings to you like some affectionate child scared to lose you again.

The Marines no doubt want his sister back, but Luffy is definitely prepared to use violence to prevent that.

When the Marines try to take you back, Luffy taunts them by saying you don't want to be a Marine anymore.

Which is a lie, you do, but it's not like Luffy will acknowledge that.

Luffy would probably ask Nami to get you new clothes that aren't Marine clothes.

You're reluctantly forced to change into different attire to make you more "pirate-like".

You love your brother, you really do...

You just wish this wasn't the thing he decided to pull.

Would Luffy kill to keep you? I can see it happening.

He's determined to have you part of his crew, both pirates looking for adventure.

His charisma and persistence may wear you down.

Plus, you dread the sight of blood on his clothes...

It usually isn't his, based on the cold look in his gaze.

Perhaps you give in, accepting your fate.

Your acceptance makes him ecstatic, clinging to you as he recounts fantasies he's had since he was young.

Seeing a glimpse of the young boy Luffy used to be with you makes you smile...

Although your eyes water when you realize just what you've gotten yourself into.

Now you're forced to be on the run... yet Luffy doesn't care...

Now you two can finally be pirates together as you were always meant to be...!

"I can't wait for you to meet Ace and Sabo with me again...! It's been so long!"

[w4w4lycsss]

ok i just had an idea from morgie x reader

Maybe where Morgie and Reader's children travel to the past with Chloe and Red, where they try to get to know them more since in the future their Morgie and Reader separated just like Hades and Maleficent I don't know xd

I clarify that if there is something wrong with the writing, it is that I do not speak English and I am using the translator.

ANNOYING CHILDREN | MORGIE LE FAY

summary: You and Morrie meet your twin children without yet knowing that they are your children, looking more like two annoying twins wanting to know everything about your relationship. Pairing: Morgie Le Fay x male!VK!reader a/n: It's like one in the morning in my country, it's not my best work in terms of narrative

You were proud to have earned the respect of Uliana and the VKs, you were one of the calmest and most collected, you thought before speaking, and you were quite different from Morgie, which made you a dynamic couple. You planned the pranks and he executed them, in short, that's how you fell in love.

It was a day like any other, you were sitting on Morgie's lap while he talked to his friends and planned his next group disaster, trying to include you and get your opinion. Maleficent, Hades, Hook and the two of you were taking a break from Uliana after she had turned into a flamingo, the whole scandal of her giving you a headache.

You played with your hands in his hair as you talked about how you could hide from getting caught when you heard two kids arguing as they approached you; a girl with long, straight hair wearing a sweater with drawings in the center next to a boy with short hair of the same color and style as her wearing a blue jacket over a white shirt.

"Speak you!"

“No, you speak!”

"Because I?"

“It was your idea, Red trusts you.” The girl frowned at him, who rolled his eyes in response and shyly approached you, being followed by the girl steps away.

“Um, Y/N?”

You looked away from your group of friends, looking at the kids (a year or two younger than you) with a raised eyebrow. Morgie placed his hands gently on your waist as he leaned in to see what was happening. 

“I'm Mason and this is my sister Harriet, we're new and we wanted to know if you could give us a tour of the school because we heard you're a prefect.”

You raised an eyebrow and looked the brothers up and down before giving a quick glance to Morgie for his opinion, who gave a casual shrug.

“Okay, but make it quick. Follow me.” You climbed off his lap, giving him a kiss on the forehead before beginning to lead the children.

It was much more awkward than they expected, Harriet was trying to ask you about your relationship quite directly while Mason tried to shut her up and ask about school to cover it up. At the end of the day the twins walked into Red and Chloe's room frustrated.

"How did it go?" The one with blue hair asked.

"A disaster."

“I'm sure he hates us.”

“Whoa, what happened?”

“It seems like he hates children.”

“No matter what we do, we don't know what happened to make them break up!”

“We cannot prevent an event that we do not know about.” Her brother concluded.

“What is your parents' relationship like now?” Chloe asked carefully.

The twins turned to look before Mason let out a sigh. “We grew up in Auradon, we don't know much about Morgie because Y/N…”

“He never tells us anything about him.” Harriet continued. "It's not…" “A good father, neither of them.”

“We also want to get along with our parents.”

Red suddenly jumped out of his bed, having an idea. "I just thought of something! Do you know the reason for your separation?”

“Father always mentions betrayal, but he has denied many times that it is infidelity.”

“Do you remember the story of the chains?”

“Do you think that's it?” He turned to see his sister.

“Wait, what chain story?”

“Father told us of a ‘legend’ of a man who was tied underwater with chains by his lover to ‘protect’ him from worse harm.”

“We never really gave it any importance, but what if that 'worst damage' that he told us so much about was the barrier?”

“Has Y/N misinterpreted Morgie's act?” The redhead asked.

“No, he must have pretended that he felt hatred! Their separation was not for lack of love!” The younger sister let out an excited squeal.

“That does not mean that it is still difficult to avoid their separation, it was not in adolescence.”

“Wait, Mason, I have an idea!” His sister screamed again, grabbing him by the shoulders.

Morgie laid his head on your lap like he was a dog seeking attention, watching you read your book of sorcery and trying to memorize as much as possible.

“Are you going to go to class?”

“No.”

“Then put the book down and pay attention to me. I’m definitely more interesting than an old book.”

You put the book down with a sigh, setting it aside on the grass where you were sitting. They were both under a tree skipping classes; Maleficent and Hades were somewhere together while Uliana and Hook are probably strutting around looking for a victim.

“Morgie, you know I need to perfect my spells…”

He took your now free hand and placed it in his hair as a sign of wanting affection. “You are already very good at magic.”

“I'll use you as a lab rat.”

He swallowed, even though he knew it was an exaggeration. A cheeky smile traced his lips. “If I can stay by your side longer, I would be delighted.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your smile. "It's ok, you win. We should do something more fun.”

“How about bothering Maleficent and Hades?”

“You're like a little child.”

“I appreciate it.”

You ruffled his hair. “Accompany me to leave the book in my locker and you have me at your complete disposal.”

They both got up, linked their hands and walked through the school hallways.

“Do you really use your locker?”

“Only for books that really serve as jokes, you don't?”

“It's like a warehouse for the gifts you give me.” He gave your hand a squeeze, a gesture that made you look away with a blushing smile.

You opened your locker, which had several magic books as you had said, what stood out the most were the photographs of you and Morgie stuck on the walls, along with some roses or letters that he sent you between classes. On top of your usual pile of books you found a letter that didn't look like the ones Morgie gave you.

You extended your hand to take it, looking at the back:

by: M. y H. L.F. to: Morgie and Y/N. “To save your future together, we love you.”

[joaniscruzing]

sailor song - part 1 - e.w.

I am so glad to be writing a series again you guys! Heads up though, I am in school now, so I do need to focus on my studies, which means I can't crank out chapters once a day like I used to!

Y'all. I love Jackson Ellie. I legit have a Halloween costume of this on standby.

Summary: Mostly exposition, reader meets Ellie after a lot of staring from afar.

Warnings: Talks of religion

A/N: I'm trying to set this on after the events of TLOU II. In my head, I always feel like Ellie went back to Jackson and tried to start over and forget everything. I feel like she'd try to better herself, especially after literally losing everything. Also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter.

⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰

In Jackson, you normally went on about your day. You would wake up, pray, have the occasional outing, go on patrol, and then go back to your abode, where you would sleep. You always noticed Ellie though. Her presence, full of light, darkening as time passed, always penetrated your carelessness towards any outside happenings–or people.

You liked how Ellie carried herself, confident, and taking no shit from nobody. However, you also knew of Ellie’s sexuality, which, in your books, was a sin. While you would typically disregard sinners, there was just something about Ellie that drew you in. You didn’t know if it was the two pools of green mystery that were her eyes, or her low, but enchanting voice. Sometimes you would look from afar, watching her laugh as she smoked her joint and coughed, wondering if you and her would ever cross paths in the future. You presumed that she was too cool for you, too rebellious. In fact, you thought that in a normal world, she’d be a celebrity, as famous as Anne Hathaway, an actress from a movie you had loved watching during the movie nights in Jackson as a little kid, The Princess Diaries.

You didn’t know why you were religious, you supposed that it was a way for you to make some sense of the situation around you. After all, you could sum up this apocalypse as just part of God’s plan; and you wouldn’t have to overthink about the issues that came from it and the harshness of the situation. That aside, you wore the cross necklace you found one day while exploring some abandoned building out of boredom proudly and constantly. You read your bible every night, in hopes that maybe it would help you understand your circumstances, and in hopes that there would be a heaven for you to go to in the future.

One day though, after a rather sleepless night, you found yourself heading into town for coffee, looking rather disheveled. You were so tired, in fact, that you didn’t realize that your coffee was sloshing all around in its cup, and getting all over you.

“Hey!” Ellie called, running behind you.

“Huh?” you replied wearily, snapping out of it immediately when you realized who it was. Crap. It’s Ellie Williams.

“Hey, uh, you seem like you shouldn’t be running back to your house with burning hot coffee. Why don’t you come over here for a bit and drink it?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that the coffee had gotten all over me. Please excuse my appearance,” you reply embarrassedly, “I’m fine though, thank you for the offer.”

“Then I’ll go with you to your house then.”

“Okay, didn’t realize you’re into stalking.”

“I’m into a lot more than just stalking” 

Your cheeks burn like hot coals. “I suppose I can drink some coffee with you.”

“Alright then. Should we go back to your house?”

“No, no, we can drink some coffee at that table over there.”

“Are you hiding something?” You look her in the eyes. You sense a twinge of skeptical energy coming from her, which, per the rumors you heard, was never a good sign.

“No! My house just isn’t clean right now.”

With that, you and Ellie sit down and you drink your coffee.

“Do you want me to get you some?”

“Oh fuck no, I’ve always hated coffee.”

[meaningofaeons]

Hi!! I just started reading your stuff and I really like it!! I was wondering if I could request some headcanons with the HSR boys (your choice but I would appreciate one with Jing Yuan) with a reader who is part of the Stelleron hunters and their role is to clear up any clues they may have left behind not on purpose, the boys caught them in the act and they made a break for it, but after the event the reader finds themself to be looking after the boys more (you can decide whether they know or if they find out due to a coincidence) and they confront the reader about it.

- 🌙 Anon

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ stellaron spy

⊹ character(s) - dan heng, jing yuan ⊹ word count - 1.7k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, stellaron hunter!reader, a bit of angst, fluff, mystery, intrigue, oh my!

hi 🌙 anon!!!! omy my first named anon (₌♥ᆽ♥₌) I'm so glad to hear you enjoy my writing!!! I was very tempted to add sampo to the mix here but as the stellaron hunters were not involved much with anyone in belobog I decided against it. but who knows?! maybe a p2 for this will come out! anyways, thank you for the request my lovely!!! I had fun with it! (๑✪ᆺ✪๑)

post editing katze here - I'm so sorry these read more like scenarios than hcs but all my hcs kinda do </3 I hope you enjoy nonetheless!

⊹ Dan Heng

Your assignment was simple: Clean up the Stellaron Hunters' presence in the Herta Space Station, and leave no trace of your own visit.

As a member of the highly skilled group, you were more than prepared and qualified.

And of course, Kafka and Silver Wolf saw fit to leave a mess behind for you as always.

They never did anything beyond Elio's allowance in order to guide the universe to the correct future, and it's not as if they had anything against you, but you still somehow ended up with a large workload each time.

A stray piece of Silver Wolf's code here, a bullet with Kafka's insignia on it there.

Nothing out of the ordinary, and all seemingly meaningless in the pursuit of the ideal future. Things that would be cast aside by the average person, if not missed entirely.

And yet, that's why you were here—those very "meaningless" pieces of evidence were specific items ordered by Elio that could cause the single tip of a domino should they be found and investigated. The most insignificant things could completely restructure the path you were on, and by extension, Elio's plans.

Of course, Destiny's Slave didn't tell you everything.

Specifically, he neglected to mention you literally bumping into a member of the Astral Express Crew.

On the way into a restricted section full of monsters.

Just perfect.

"Ah, I'm terribly sorry!" You were flustered, yes, but it served as a good cover considering your disguise as a researcher.

The man before you looked indifferent by nature, but something about you caught his eye, and he put his arms out to steady you.

"It's fine. Why are you heading into a restricted zone?"

"Ahh, I'm okay! Just grabbing some of my research materials! If you'll excuse me..."

He didn't seem content to leave you to do as you wished considering your disguise, but then he caught sight of the bullet you held. Kafka's bullet, signature carved into the side and all.

He put two and two together, his blue eyes widening.

"You—"

Before he could say anything further, you had vanished, hearing his footsteps chasing after you after ducking into an alcove. He came and went, and you found yourself alone again.

Well, there goes a smooth mission... He's surely off to alert security.

As the days passed, you continued your task. Of course, Kafka had given you a predictable answer when you confronted her about the run-in with the black-haired man.

"That would be Dan Heng of the Astral Express Crew. Don't worry. You were fated to meet. As I'm sure you know, your foresight on meeting him would have ruined the future."

Of course.

However, the young man intrigued you, and you eventually found yourself watching over him more and more.

He went to get lunch? You would subtly switch your disguise and be in line right behind him.

He took a walk around the station? You weren't far behind.

He entered a restricted zone to assist? You cleared out a couple of monsters ahead of him to make his job easier.

It's all for the mission, you'd justify. Just monitoring him to ensure he doesn't throw a wrench into Elio's plans.

Eventually, your little side-mission caught up to you.

"I really should just turn you in."

A pale hand had reached over your head, grabbing the information tablet above you, and you paused.

Compared to your previous meeting, you were a lot more calm. After all, as Kafka had said, you only needed trust in Elio and his future.

"Then why haven't you?"

The dark-haired man couldn't provide an answer.

"Are you here to stir up trouble again... Stellaron Hunter?"

"Just the opposite, really."

Dan Heng was perplexed, yet intrigued—two feelings he didn't experience often.

"I really should...—ugh. Never mind. For now, I won't do a thing. But I'll be keeping an eye on you."

"I will do the same for you."

"I've noticed."

"Then I'm sure you've noticed the gift I left in your pocket."

As soon as he looked down, you were gone. Still, you weren't lying—there in his pocket lay a piece of paper with your contact information... along with an alias.

Dan Heng didn't know what to feel, but a strange warmth filled his cheeks, and he ran a hand over his face.

What... just happened?

You, meanwhile, having completed your mission, met back up with Kafka in only a few hours' time.

"Your number, hm? Smooth, Y/N. I didn't think you had it in you. Should I consider this a betrayal?"

"Hush up, Kafka. You know this was bound to happen."

"Astute as always."

You had to hold back your groan along with your own reddened cheeks.

⊹ Jing Yuan

Being a Stellaron Hunter meant trusting Elio no matter what, even if it seemed to be at your own peril.

Even with his indifference towards his own and your lives in the face of the necessary future, Destiny's Slave had assured you and the rest of the Stellaron Hunters that you were not to be expended for the cause.

At least, not for a very, very long time.

So why is the General of the Xianzhou Luofu in front of you right now?

This wasn't in the plan! Only Kafka and Blade were meant to be arrested!

Your momentary panic caused you to forget the obvious—

You're not on any wanted lists, you have not been seen associating with either detained Stellaron Hunter on the Luofu, and you're posed as a completely ordinary Xianzhou Outworlder.

On top of that... Kafka had secured you a (fake) position somewhat close to the General for intel-gathering. For all intents and purposes, you were meant to be here.

But that handsome face honestly made your brain run on empty at the most crucial moment. And besides, your false position wasn't that high up!

Unless it was, and the information was withheld in case you got captured...

You wondered if Elio could laugh, and if he could, whether he was amused by your current blunder. Surely, all according to the plan of destiny.

"Goodness. I knew I had some level of charm somehow, but to think I'd evoke such a reaction."

You froze up upon General Jing Yuan moving his face even closer to yours, inspecting you carefully.

"Or perhaps you're just intimidated by me?"

Focus, Y/N, focus!

"Not at all, General," you were quick to respond, impressing even yourself at the steadiness in your voice. "I was simply stunned that the General would greet me, a mere advisor, personally."

"Well, mere advisor, I find you enthralling. Please report to work tomorrow directly to my desk. I'll have you assist me with my paperwork."

...Huh?

That's how you found yourself roped into being Jing Yuan's personal assistant.

The incident with Kafka and Blade progressed naturally, but you found yourself with more and more work.

All to keep up the cover of a simple employee trying to earn your daily wages, you supposed. Not to mention, the closeness of it all allowed you intel on Jing Yuan that you never would have acquired otherwise.

It made sense that this was Elio's plan all along, but you were still a bit bittersweet about your circumstances.

The sweet part being... Well, the General was nice to look at, and he wasn't a bad conversationalist, either.

And of course, the intel. The intel was good. You were certainly still focused on it.

When he ate, when he took walks (casual ones, he assured you when you were forced to join him, but you knew it was a guise for patrolling the Luofu), and when he trained with Yanqing, the Cloud Knight Lieutenant.

Everything went straight to Elio's ear.

The bitter part... Everything else.

Every day, you wondered if the General knew your identity and purpose. Yet he never spoke a word of it.

And his requests were getting more ridiculous by the day!

"Y/N, would you be so kind as to keep me company while I finish my paperwork?"

"That would be highly unprofessional... I must clock out for the night."

Another night, it was something else.

"Y/N, how about a game of chess?"

"We're working, General."

"Call me Jing Yuan, would you? 'General' is far too uptight."

"That would also be unprofessional!"

"Isn't it more unprofessional to deny your superior's request?"

Now you were sure of it. Elio, along with Kafka, Blade, and Silver Wolf, and every single one of the other Stellaron Hunters...

They were watching this all like a horrendous, slow-burn, romantic sitcom, and they were laughing their heads off at you running yourself ragged. That had to be it.

However, all good? things come to an end. It was only a few months in that you were called to clean up yet another Stellaron Hunter operation.

And with that, your resignation was plopped on Jing Yuan's desk in the dead of night, with you and him being the only two souls in the entirety of the Seat of Divine Foresight.

"...So, that's it?"

"I'm afraid so."

That smile of his made you want to stay, though you'd never say it aloud.

"Well, I suppose Stellarons are present in many different worlds."

Your jaw could've dropped. It was a miracle your face remained stoic.

"Do come back and visit me, though? Or better yet, desert them entirely and stay by my side?"

The tone was teasing, but the longing was still buried beneath it all.

When your face hardened, his smile softened.

"Of course not. I understand the feeling of being unable to abandon your comrades, your cause. Still, I do hope we meet again."

With a laugh at your silence, he unclasped one of the blue tassels from his uniform and put it right into your expectant hand—instinct on your part at his gesture.

"Return that to me soon. Don't make me wait too long. After all, without it, my coat is asymmetrical. Not a great look for the General of the Luofu, is it, my dear?"

"...No. I suppose it isn't."

It took you less than the space of a breath to vanish from his office, and you knew you likely wouldn't be back—not for a long time, that is—but Jing Yuan's tassel remained in your belongings nonetheless.

[lamoobsessions]

Fortune for the Fools

Hazel Callahan x FemReader

Synopsis: After an underwhelming proverb from an underwhelming fortune teller at the county fair, you have an unexpected run-in with Hazel. When time passes and feelings prosper, you finally begin to believe that maybe that fortune was right after all.

A/N: Enjoy this prologue to a fic i'm working on, while I slowly hoist myself out of this writing slump. Each chapter will have a lyric from a song by a queer artist, so I hope you enjoy :)

Prologue: "My heart's out. My guard's down." - Body and Mind, Girl in Red

────────────

To you, everything about the ‘End of Summer Carnival’ was enchanting. The pop-up canopies glowing in the night like lamps. The game booths sounding obnoxious buzzers as the kids played them for cheap toys. The tall, flashing lights welcoming onlookers to their sketchy rides, which, to your dislike, capriciously shook as they sat in the dirt -They weren’t safe, anyone with half of a mind knew that, but anyone with a sliver of fun would ride them anyway. Even the smell of the event was kind of charming. Sure, there’s the frequent whiffs of vomit and B.O., but usually those smells drown in the overwhelming scent of funnel cake and sugar. All in all, there was a lot to love about the carnival. 

Like every year, you attend with Sylvie, whom you’ve known since… forever you think. You and her clicked. Maybe it was your reserved demeanor and her gregarious attitude that made things so easy. Many people found it shocking when they found out how close the two of you are, simply because you’re polar opposites. Either way, the two of you made quite the pair. 

However, at the moment you stand alone among the carnival’s rapture.

All is well though, you have a routine for this sort of thing. You start out with the games, then the rides, then get food, and finish the night off with a ride on the Ferris wheel. It’s a perfect system you discovered a couple of years ago, and it hasn’t failed you yet. The only downfall of this plan is that Sylvie isn’t big on the carnival games, so you’re often left on your own for the first half. Which, you don’t mind, it’s less competition for the prizes anyway. 

That’s how you’ve found yourself here, standing in front of an old vintage fortune-teller named ‘ZOLTAR.’

To your understanding, this is the first year the local carnival has had a fortune teller machine. The thing doesn’t even ask for one of your tickets, it only asks for a dollar. So, thinking it must be fate, you decide to try out your luck.

Inserting the money into the slot, a suspiciously long moment passes, a moment long enough for you to begin to think the thing must be broken, and you dollar just went to a waste. Yet, just as you were about to shake some life into the machine, a whimsical harp plays from the speaker, “Cheer up my friend, and listen to the proverb from Zoltar.”

The sudden, and unreasonably loud, audio makes you flinch.

“From small beginnings come great things.” The machine suggests. “Ah yes, and lucky for you the great Zoltar sees much happiness for you in the future. Go out and find it, but don’t run off too quickly, Zoltar has more to say for you.” 

A shuttering emanates from the ticket dispenser, as it pushes out a small yellow ticket. Pulling it from the slot you read the back of the card. 

It's all the same mumbo jumbo you'd expect from a fortune. 'Things are going to change soon… blah, blah, blah… Be brave in your choices… yadda, yadda, yadda.'

You huff a laugh looking down at the card. “great…” you mutter.

It’s truly is the same fortune-teller crap most people get, but you can’t help but to hope it’s true. What’s the harm in hoping, right?

However, after a few carnival games, this hope started to feel like bullshit. Firstly, your favorite game that’s here every year is gone, then you lose half your tickets gambling them away on some guessing game, then, at the time your supposed to meet Sylvie by the Ferris wheel, she’s a no show.  

‘Great happiness in your future, my ass’ you thought. 

At least you had enough cash left in your pocket to buy back the tickets you lost. But first, there was a fried Oreo stand practically calling your name with it's infectiously sweet aroma. 

Deciding to ditch Sylvie's meeting spot, you make your way to the concession stand and join the endless line.

Minutes pass and you’re finally close to the front, with the delicious smells of chocolate and sugar getting stronger and stronger with each step. Although, another minute passes, then another, then another, and the line has yet to move. Peering to the front, you see a girl fumbling in her wallet, a look of panic evident of her face. 

Even from a short distance, you’re sure you know who it is. Though, curious to see what’s going on, you listen in closer. 

“Ma’am you can’t pay with tickets, we only accept cash.” The woman behind the counter argues. 

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry. It’s just that I promised some friends-”

“If you don’t have any cash, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the line.”

Looking into your wallet for extra cash, you notice you only have cash for your own fried Oreo and some more tickets. If you were to buy more from the concession stand, you'd have to give up on the possibility of buying extra tickets later.

But, being that it's the last night of the summer and your 'lucky fortune' can't seem to come true, you at least have the chance to bring happiness to someone else's future.

“Excuse me!” 

Both the woman behind the counter and Hazel turn to you. 

“I have extra cash if you…” you suggest. 

“Oh no, it’s…” Hazel dismisses, “You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem, really. What were you going to get?” You ask, taking the money from your wallet, while making your way to the counter. 

Hazel stares at you, dumbfounded, seemingly unsure if she should accept the offer.

“She was getting two churros and a stick of cotton candy.” The cashier speaks up.

You nod and count the cash before handing it to her. “Can you add a fried Oreo to that order?”

The woman bobs her head while counting the cash and shoves it into the register. “We’ll have that right out for you.”

“Thanks,” You smile and make your way to the pick-up bar for the food. Hazel follows you hesitantly, presumably taken back by the interaction. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” she comments.

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

As embarrassing as it may be to admit, there was always this fondness with her, an insatiable desire to be her friend. But, making friends wasn’t always your strong suit. You mostly kept to yourself, sat in the back of the class with your nose in a book. Sylvie’s told you countless times how unapproachable you look, but you never got around to fixing that detail. 

Hazel wears a confused expression, as if she couldn't quite piece together something in her head. 

“I’m y/n, by the way.” You begin, figuring she's probably trying to pin a name to your face. “Hazel, right?”

“Um- yeah. You know my name?”

“Yeah I mean, we’ve been going to the same school since like freshman year. Of course I know who you are.”

Truthfully, it wasn’t normal to know random people’s names in your school. It’s a big school, filled with a lot of people. Many students graduate not knowing half of their class. But, you knew Hazel’s name because, like anyone you find interesting, you learned it.

“Oh yeah, right.” She laughs awkwardly. “I knew your name too, by the way.”

You smile, letting out an amused huff at her insistence before looking to the Ferris wheel, where Sylvie has yet to show up. You'd be worried if it weren't Sylvie being her usual self. She either got caught in some atrociously long line, or is currently talking some poor souls head off somewhere. 

“I-um,” Hazel begins. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for the food, so… thanks.”

“Yeah, of course. Don't mention it." You chirp. 

“No really, I owe you one. Usually they accept tickets at these things, but I guess they don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, they stopped doing that last year after some kid, like, figured out how to forge the concession tickets or something.”

Suddenly, her expression turns into one of clarity. “I was wondering why they didn’t offer concession tickets this year.” She pauses, then lowering her voice to a near whisper. “How did they find out about the fakes though?”

“Wait- was that you?” 

Suddenly, she lights up, as if she'd been waiting her whole life for someone to ask. “Yeah, I just bought some customizable raffle tickets online and printed all the same stuff on them. It was pretty easy, considering most tickets, like the one for the rides, have special codes on them so they can’t be replicated, but not the concession ones. There wasn’t anything fancy like that on them.” 

After seconds of staring in complete bafflement, you can’t help but to laugh. She was the last person you’d expect to pull such thing off, but maybe that’s because you didn’t know her as much as you wish you did.  “That’s honestly genius. I mean,  it’s a shame you got caught.”

“I don’t even know how they found out! I was super inconspicuous about it.”

At this, you only laugh harder. It wasn’t even that funny of a situation but for some reason, maybe because it was her, you felt lighter. 

“Two churros, a cotton candy, and a fried Oreo!” The woman calls from the counter. 

The two of you turn your attention towards the tray of food under the pick-up window. Hazel grabs her share of food, though not before handing you your portion. 

“Well,” you begin, while unwrapping the treat in your hands. “Maybe next time you can learn to forge actual money.”

“That would be so cool,” She beams, evidently not catching your sarcasm. 

“Cool, but also a federal crime.”

“It’s only a crime if you get caught.”

“Thats a terrible philosophy.” you remark. Glancing at the ferris wheel, Sylvie had finally showed. She waited patiently under beaming lights. “Oh, I gotta go. I’ll see you at school, I guess?”

Something flashes in hazel’s demeanor, something you couldn't quite identify before it was gone and replaced by a smile “Yeah -uh, I’ll see you then.” She waves. “Thanks again.”

“no problem,” you wave off, before taking off towards Sylvie, who quickly spots you walking over, and begins to wave frantically, as if you couldn’t already see her under the blinding light. 

“Y/n!” She calls, “You’ll never guess what I saw!” 

You smile, rolling your eyes playfully. “It better be the reason you were a whole thirty minutes late to meeting me.”

“Uh-huh,” She answers quickly. “I saw someone get hit by a car.”

A pit of shock and concern fills you. “Oh my god are they okay? Are- Are you okay? How the hell did-”

“No it’s fine, it was just Jeff.”

Immediately that pit of shock dissolves, and your mind begins to wonder how the whole town hasn’t already erupted into a riot simply because it was Jeff.  “Okay, so…is he okay?”

“Well, you know, of course he’s taking it way too far and acting like the car hit him at ninety miles per hour, when in reality it was probably one, but yeah, he’s fine.” 

That part was believable. For football players who are the size of grown men, they were about as fragile as a china doll. But, the fact that you hadn’t heard about it the moment it happened… that part was a little hard to grasp. “So, you’re telling me, the Jeff -Jeff the star player of the Rockbridge football team, got hit by a car and the town hasn’t turned to pitchforks and torches yet?”

“Yes!” She exclaims excitingly. “I mean, the whole team is devastated, but the people are handling it pretty good if you ask me.”

You huff, taking a bite into your food. “Well, I guess that’s a good enough excuse for you being late.”

“I’m sorry,” She exaggerates, dragging out the apology. “To make it up to you, I’ll let you choose the first ride we go on together.”

“Oh, how generous,” You tease. “But I blew all my tickets on the carnie games.”

“You serious? Why don’t you just buy more?”

“All the cash I brought was spent on food.”

She gives you a curious look, likely surprised that you, for once, came to something unprepared. For some reason you have yet to uncover, a part of you didn’t feel like telling Sylvie about the run-in with Hazel. 

“Well, lucky for you, I stole some of my stepdad’s money for tonight. So we can just buy more.”

you laugh, “I don’t think I feel comfortable using stolen step-dad money."

“Then don’t think of it like that. Think of it like I’m your super rich sugar momma, and I’m treating you to a night out.” She shoves a wad of tickets into your hands forcefully. 

“Right,” you deadpan, accepting the tickets. ”Step-dad’s money it is.”

“Great,” She cheers, playfully putting an arm around your shoulder.  

The rest of the night was spent using all of Sylvie's remaining tickets for eating overtly sweet foods, riding unnecessarily fast rides, and throwing up in grotesque smelling trash cans. Or in other words, the night was spent perfectly. You and Sylvie stuck around til closing and ended the night sleeping over at your place, which is always the go-to spot for the both of you since Sylvie absolutely despises her stepdad. Come to think of it, you’ve probably only been to her house once, way back when her parents were still together. These days, it’s your house and your house only. You never minded the company.

But, as the early morning came and the first day of school had arrived, you began to regret this decision.

Body aching, stomach wrenching, and head sagging like a block of cement, all the decisions of last night finally caught up to you. You felt like shit, and you weren’t the only one. Next to you, Sylvie groaned, dragging her hands down her face as she sat up from the air mattress on the floor. 

“I think I’m dying,” She complains.

You hum in agreement, pulling yourself from under the covers and throwing your legs off the bedside. “Do we have to go? It’s our last year, it doesn't really matter if we skip anymore, right?"

“I mean… I’d be down to skip if you are. We can rot in bed and watch movies all day and pretend it’s still summer and that school never started.” 

Staring at her with a stoic expression, you hop off the bed and begin to make your way towards the closet. “You’re supposed to convince me to go, not enable me.”

She shrugs, putting her hands up in surrender. “I never said I was a good influence. You decided that on your own.”

You huff, pulling off random pieces of clothing from the drawers and off the hook. “Yeah, well,” You sigh, throwing the clothes on the bed. “I’m going to need all the influence I can get to leave this house before eight. And by influence, I mean caffeine and ibuprofen.”

“Oh!” She exclaims shooting up from the bed. “I’ll get the ibuprofen.”

“Please don’t grab the wrong thing like you did last time.”

A wide grin plasters on her face. “You mean the laxative incident? That was hilarious.”

“No, no it wasn’t.” The last time Sylvie was in charge of grabbing ibuprofen was the night of the Junior and Senior prom. You developed a monster headache from all the cologne clouding the gymnasium air, and when Sylvie somehow came back with laxatives instead of a pain reliever, you were too absorbed in the pain to notice any difference. “I had to leave prom early because all the fucking bathrooms were full with orgies and stoners.” 

“Yeah, that was awesome,” She giggles. 

“Just please grab the right stuff this time.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I can handle it.” And with that, she walks out the room and towards the kitchen where the pharmaceuticals are stored. This time, hopefully, she will come back with the right medicine. You dind't want this sudden luck of yours to continue any longer.  

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Hi Frosty!!!! I just saw you had requests open! Is this true?

If so.... could I please have a brief....Hunter reaction to an accidental seeing reader in a wedding dress? I'm a sucker for this and will reread this trope over and over redone.

Thank you ❤️ and it's ok if not, just discard this then! Love your writing!

Alignment Events [Hunter x Fem!Reader]

Warnings and Information: You and the tattooed sergeant of Clone Force 99 have caught unexpected feelings for one another towards the end of the Clone Wars following a chance meeting in the middle of a friend’s special night. Following the end of the war, your friend has chosen to get married to her soldier sweetheart on her adoptive home world of Naboo. You and Hunter are attending as part of the happy couple’s wedding party right around the time your feelings have gotten a little more serious for each other. While being involved in the preparation means there could be a fair amount of rumination on the future of your relationship, what you don’t expect is how much a fun bit of playful dress-up could end up changing your life.  Second Person POV, undescribed Fem!Reader. Republic Victory AU (so no Order 66). Limited Mando’a (pet names and familial terms). Minimal Star Wars and real-world swearing. Reference/allusion to alcoholic beverages. Iler Ci is an OC who serves as Reader’s friend for the story. Narrative and stylistic use of italics.

Word count: 4,926

Call it what you like - the Force, an alignment of the planets and stars, maybe fate - the galaxy had a funny way of bringing people together. 

Meeting someone special in the middle of the Clone Wars had been an unexpected but pleasant happenstance. It hadn’t been in your immediate plans to make any changes to your dating status, but the first time you crossed paths with Sergeant Hunter of Clone Force 99 amidst what would later become a celebratory night out with some friends, there was something about him you simply couldn’t resist. 

A busier night than most, clumsy encounters and a spilt strong drink were to be expected. Trying to cross from one end of the cantina to the other, one did a fair bit of running into happy couples and hopeful romantics.

Hunter had been neither. 

There had always been the fleeting flirts and flings, but never anything serious and steady for either of you. There were no qualms about dating statuses, feelings of loneliness or even the emeralds of envy while in the company of partnered people. 

Not until the night you met. 

It would be a chance meeting. You and several friends were meant to be working, but the soldier sweetheart to a mutual friend had reached out and asked for help planning a special surprise earlier that morning. It would mean losing shifts and owing favors due to the last-minute nature, but hearing what he had in mind, you and your friends were willing to do anything.

Lane was a pilot in the Grand Army of the Republic, and had been in a long-distance yet serious relationship for some time now with your friend, Cici. They met while Lane had been on an assignment near Naboo almost a year ago. Emboldened by some of his brothers, he’d tried asking her out after a helping or two of liquid courage, but it must have been stronger than he anticipated. Lane maintains that while he recalls her politely declining the first request, he has no memory of her agreeing to get some food instead, or how she had apparently “helped” him back to the barracks. 

In the morning, he would find a note, and only then in his sobered state would he realize the Pantoran woman he had been trying to charm all night was none other than Iler Ci. For all her humility and generosity, many would not suspect that she was the heiress to a well-known family of artists on Naboo, by whom she was adopted and raised after her birth on Pantora. 

Thanks for a nice dinner and lovely company, Lane. Perhaps, if you ever remember where to find it while you’re still here, we can go to that Pantoran place you recommended? :) - Iler “Cici” Ci (PS: Don’t forget to take something for the headache.)

Though he would be reassigned before they could have a more proper date, Cici and Lane have been smitten with each other since. 

It would be in front of a full house at 79’s that you and your friends helped Lane propose to his sweetheart, mere months before the end of the Clone Wars. It had never been so loud within the bar as the moment the pilot dropped down on one knee in front of his brothers and other patrons to present Cici with a ring someone had fashioned for him that very morning. 

Soldiers in deployments of every color cheered for their brother when she agreed to marry him, and had drawn in from every corner to congratulate them. Marriages among Clones were less of an officially recognized thing, at the time, but Lane had been too eager, too deeply in love to care. The same could be said for Cici; it would not matter that it would only be another few months before the war was inexplicably over. 

Among the last to offer congratulations were five men, each of them clad in grayscale, non-standard armor accented in red. 

Standing ahead of the rest, a man somewhat shorter than Lane approached and put his hand forward. “Good to see you again, Lane. I came to offer our congratulations on behalf of the Bad Batch.” His handshake seemed quite firm. The four men behind him offered their respective greetings after that - two waved (one half-heartedly) while another merely nodded, and the fourth offered the only other handshake, even firmer than the first’s. 

In spite of having most of the feeling squeezed out of his hand mere moments ago, Lane was almost excited, arguably starstruck, by who had come to offer their congratulations to him and Cici. He would make eager introductions to everyone. 

“This is Sergeant Hunter, Tech, Echo, Wrecker and Crosshair of Clone Force 99. They’re the ones who helped us pull off that crazy rescue mission two months ago!”

Quite honestly you missed most of the short conversation between Lane and the sergeant as the other four went down the line and got everyone’s name; exchanging nice to meet you!-s with varying degrees of enthusiasm and politeness, shaking hands as they went. At the other end of the line, you were the last to personally greet each member of the squadron. 

Introductions had been going smoothly until it came time to shake Hunter’s hand. Feeling somewhat caught under umber brown eyes, you inexplicably tripped while taking that half-step forward to better shake his hand. To your great fortune, Hunter’s reflexes were sharp; though it proved to be a slightly embarrassing method—strong arms laced across your back that brought the two of you chest-to-chest—you were caught before you would have been seriously hurt. 

You could only offer a stammering apology, your composure rather rattled as you all but gawked up into the skull-tattooed face of the sergeant. There was a gentleness to the way he eased you off his chest only once he’s certain you’re unharmed, a softness in the way his aquiline nose bunched as the corners of his mouth turned up in a warm smile. 

In a voice smokier than the alleyway behind 79’s, he made a small joke in hopes of lightening the mood. “So long as you’re alright, there’s no need to be sorry about falling for me, mesh’la. I’m rather flattered.” It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but the level of confidence and self-assurance he has came as a surprise at the time.

Flirting came with the territory at 79’s; passing advances were to be expected now and again from the GAR’s soldiers by Coruscant’s diverse nightlife. But you found yourself especially charmed by the sergeant. 

It would only be the beginning.

Though he may have been the one to make the joke about you falling for him, the truth was Hunter found himself equally smitten with you. He couldn’t get you out of his head. Comm numbers had been exchanged, but a bulk of the communication was done through Lane for the first few weeks following that special night at 79’s. 

It was becoming increasingly obvious that Hunter was trying to keep you closer than just the periphery of his life; it isn’t every day that Lane finds himself telling you that he’s pretty sure Hunter went out of his way to get a bottle of your absolute favorite body fragrance from a crowded Outer Rim market because he recognized it by smell alone (and heard a rumor it would be discontinued on Coruscant soon).

“He must really like you.”

A month out from the end of the war, there is plenty of accumulated evidence that things are looking a little more serious between the two of you. The near-daily electronic exchanges are a good start. But it’s more than that, of course. Your respective companions have been privy to plenty of instances where you’ve thought about the other, and not to mention the interactions outside of the healthy helping of mutual flirting. 

Like the night you had asked Hunter what his favorite mission so far was, his brothers sent you multiple pictures of him—all from different angles, all varying in quality—around their tiny attack shuttle, working on his response for at least an hour or more. Bathed in the blue glow of his datapad, smiling softly to himself. 

Or the time you were enjoying a night in with some friends when Hunter would make a near desperate request for holofilm recommendations. They had strict orders to wait out bad weather before returning to command, so they were looking for something Tech could “borrow” in the meantime. There had been much hemming and hawing about certain types of media in the recommendation list you were compiling for him, but your friends gave you encouragement to include them.

“Promise you won’t laugh if half of it’s for kids?”

“Promise. My vode, too.” 

Hunter may not have understood what it was about those movies that appealed to you right away, but he kept his promise, and filed the list away for another time, putting it to use later.

A month out from the end of the war, he asks to meet you at 79’s the very same night he and his brothers are due to be planetside. They have some important, short-term business they have to take care of; it’ll take a day at most. It could be his only chance to see you in person after all these weeks of long-distance communications. To great delight, you have agreed to meet him once you get off work, so long as he doesn’t mind that you’re in your work uniform. 

You could have worn a full sleep set for all he cared, he would be just as glad to see you.

You’ve beaten him to the bar by a matter of fifteen minutes, finding yourself lucky with skylane traffic for a change. Taking advantage of your extra time, you first make use of the ladies’ refresher, cleaning up your hair and any makeup applied that morning before settling in to wait for him. Securing a two-person table, you wait out any remaining time by glancing over a few personal messages. It won’t be long before Hunter meets up with you. 

Pay stub. Spam. Spam. Coupons. Work reminders. Delivery notice. Ooh, good coupons! More spam. Cici and Lane’s wedding plans. 

Intrigued, you open the mass message and begin to skim. The happy couple is thinking of tying the knot somewhere large enough to include everyone, having had some concerns that a marriage office here on Coruscant would prove too claustrophobic. Instead, to make sure no one is left out, they’ll be using property within Cici’s family - a charming lakefront villa on Naboo. 

You don’t get any farther than that before Hunter turns up, brothers in tow. 

Uh oh. Should you have gotten a bigger table?

Before anything can be done, Hunter takes the opposite seat at the table, followed by Wrecker and Tech. They each say hello before the latter carefully begins tipping a few small packages and envelopes out of the former’s pack onto the table. Two small, neatly wrapped packages and a handful of envelopes aren’t a lot of items, but it’s certainly more than you expected. Once everything is laid out on the table beside your bag, Wrecker offers encouragement over his shoulder as the two of them quickly take their leave.

“Have fun, Hunter! You’ll do fine!”

The sergeant must be nervous. Tugging the crimson cloth keeping the curtain of brown curls off his neck and out of his face, Hunter clears his throat before doing his best to flash you a smile, carefully setting a third package on the tabletop. 

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me here on short notice, cyar’ika.” More tugging, this time at the neckline of the bodysuit under his armor (which appears to be glistening) catches your eye. You gloss over the Mando’a for sweetheart and darling for the moment realizing he must have quickly wiped down his full kit before meeting you here. 

He not only called you sweetheart, but he cleaned up for you? Aww. 

You chuckle softly. “Of course! I see I’m not the only one who brought something either.” You pull your bag closer, wishing for the moment you had time to wrap any of it. It won’t matter. Hunter appears surprised to hear you have something for him, and offers you the chance to go first, if you’d like. You accept, reaching into your bag to pull ten identical items out. Two are offered to Hunter. “These are for you. I have more for your brothers.” Special micro-weave cleaning cloths from an electronics store are all you have to offer currently, your less practical gifts are either sitting in your apartment or still out for delivery.

Hunter’s nervous energy dissipates as he smiles, dumbfounded. “Guessing you got these for us because we ran out? That was… rather kind of you. Really.” Rubbing the back of his neck in thought, he debates which of the items on the table you should open first. Should he give you the largest package, the one carefully balanced on his knees under the table? Should you start with something small, and leave the best for last? (He should have asked Tech what the best way to do this kind of thing was while they were still at the Marauder. But then again, Tech was busy wrapping everything in old schematic papers.)

Maybe it didn’t matter. Come to a decision, Hunter nudges the pile of envelopes closer to you. “Start with these,” he says. “My brothers got these for you.” Hunter knows he’s made the right call when your immediate response is a surprised “Really?” paired with a smile brighter than the twin suns of Tatooine. 

You carefully open one of the flat sleeves to find several stickers and a note inside. The short note is from Tech, explaining he’s taken some inspiration from “nat-born” trends seen on the holonet and everyone has found a handful of stickers you could use to decorate computer terminals or water canisters. 

The conclusion and postscript make you smile before you set the note aside and look over the modest assortment of stickers he’s given you. 

They are waterproof and weather resistant, so they should last quite a long time. We hope you’ll enjoy them as much as we’ve enjoyed the process of you and Hunter getting to know one another.  Postscript: I hope the butterflies will suffice since I was not certain if you have a favorite insect.

You see evidence of how much Hunter has shared about you in the types of stickers each of his brothers have collected for you. Tech’s butterflies are mostly in your favorite colors. Echo’s given you stickers relating to places you’ve been, and planets you have an interest in seeing one day. Wrecker’s envelope is the heaviest out of the bunch; his collection showcases popular characters from your favorite novels and shows, and a few stickers of your favorite snacks have been added for good measure. (The sticker that says “Make today a BLAST!” with a rough depiction of a thermal detonator is probably your favorite from him.) And finally from Crosshair, you were given a few generic yet nice designs of animals you’d discussed early on with Hunter.

The entire spread is swept into their respective envelopes once everything has been looked at, at which point you make sure to thank Hunter at the very least. You trust him to pass along the sentiment for you in case you don’t get a chance to speak to the rest of Clone Force 99 tonight. 

It was sweet of them to get you anything at all. You certainly didn’t expect it. When you agreed to meet with the sergeant you had really only expected one little token from their travels at the most, only possibly wrapped; nevermind three from Hunter alone and all of them wrapped. 

One thing was clear: Hunter really likes you. 

Between chilled drinks and appetizers, more alignment events occur as the two of you have an enjoyable night using the limited time available. Quite honestly, most of what you talk about goes by in a blur between each package you open. From one such parcel, the face of a favorite character from one of the holofilms previously recommended to him peers up at you in soft, fabric form. You recognize this rendition as one you already own, but you see that it’s been customized. 

Added in thread, little details that are not typically included in merchandise have been sewn in with such care to make the character more screen-accurate.  

“Wow… This must’ve taken a long time.”

Hunter’s chuckle is warm. “For me, yes. Fortunately it’s just an afternoon or two for Crosshair.” 

“He did a really good job. I have one just like it at home, but I like this one a lot more.”

There’s some congratulatory commotion from the booth where his brothers are sitting nearby, among which you hear an excited “did you hear that?!” from Wrecker. Hunter waits until they’ve mostly settled back down before encouraging you to open the second of the three packages, watching as you carefully tear back the wrapping. What you find inside thoughtfully ties into one of your hobbies, made from recently-carved wood. It’s a material not-often come by in the jewel of the Core Worlds, so the rich, earthy smell catches you off-guard, adding to your amazement. 

“I made this one myself.” He seems quite proud. And he should be.

Made with his own vibroknife, Hunter has given this gift a lot of care and attention. Wide, curious eyes trace the patterns of swirling grain as you repeatedly turn it over in your hands to admire from every angle. Everything had been sanded smooth, eliminating any stiff edges left by the process of whittling and carving.

You smile appreciatively before finding something to say. “I hope you didn’t get many splinters for all the trouble this must’ve been…”

Shoulders bounce in easy-going fashion. 

“A few. Nothing too bad.” 

That’s relieving to hear. “I’d feel bad if you went through all this trouble for me and ended up hurt.”

“And if I thought you were worth the trouble?”

Hunter’s question has left you stunned, dropping a delicate hush over the table. Hearing you’re worth the trouble - the possibility of pain - is a sincere sentiment you have not heard outside your social circle in quite some time, perhaps even longer than you realize. Feeling now is the right time, Hunter surrenders the last of the packages to you, the one he has been carefully guarding throughout the night. “I hope this is enough of an answer.” he says by way of answering your unspoken doubts. 

An answer that carries you through the months to come. It’s a soothing balm to the long distances apart before the war finds an end, and fuel for the even longer nights after. Every time doubt had crept in and questioned the validity of what you have with the sergeant clad in smoke-gray armor, you returned to the note taped to the bottle of perfume to reassure and reaffirm. 

In a promise more precious than pearl or priorite, your relationship will only ever move as fast as you’re comfortable with when Hunter asks to make things official. 

No amount of playful pushing will change his resolve when friends, family and brothers find themselves gathered on Naboo in preparation for Lane and Cici’s wedding some months later. 

There’s a fair bit of work to be done to get the lakeside villa gussied up for the big day, but with everyone pitching it, it’ll be over before you know it. There’ll be plenty of time for pre-wedding activities before it comes time to tie the knot. After a week of steady progress, there’s only one room left at this point.

One of the largest rooms on the property, Cici’s art studio overlooks a large, glimmering lake, so it should make for the perfect place to serve as the wedding hall once everything has been cleared out. It’s probably double, maybe triple, the size of an average apartment on the surface level of Coruscant, crammed with all manner of art supplies. Ignoring the fine layer of dust and disorganization, it feels akin to standing in an art store once Cici has unlocked the studio door and let everyone inside. 

“I guess my parents never used my studio while I was away. That means there’s more in there than I thought… But! Between all of us, this shouldn’t take too long. A day at most, I’m sure!”

Wrecker matches her enthusiasm. “That’s the spirit, Ms. Ci!” 

The workload is divided among the fifteen or so people who made it to Naboo ahead of time as equally as possible. You and some of Cici’s other friends from work would find yourself spectating the clean-out if you let the men of the GAR get away with it. They’re certainly efficient, and have made a real art of talking and tidying up at the same time, too. Any messing around is kept to a minimum, but the conversations are plenty playful as teams take boxes and crates full of studio items to temporary storage. 

Wrecker and Echo are joking with one of your coworkers as canvases (some as tall (or taller) than the demolition expert) get shuffled into the hallway. One of Lane’s fellow pilots has volunteered to help Tech pack the various paint tubes by general color. And though you could easily move things off of the high shelves on your own, with Hunter holding the rolling ladder steady, Crosshair will not take no for an answer and insists upon helping you dust everything down. 

“It will be safer to pass them down to me.” The fourth word escapes in a soft hiss, toothpick rolling with building irritation. “I don’t like the look of the fourth rung.”

It was a little wobbly when you’d climbed up the ladder, hoping to spare Hunter’s heightened senses from the dust… “Mind dusting them down for me, then?” Cross takes a decorative box set from you without a word, offering only a nod. 

“Thank you, Crosshair.”

“Don’t mention it.”

As a team of three, you make steady progress. Hunter braces the ladder while Crosshair takes care of the larger items, leaving you to take care of the shelves and any smaller items. You would prefer to focus on getting this done as quickly as possible, so you leave the talking to the brothers. Brushing down a decorative bust, the marksman tries getting under the sergeant’s skin with a sarcastic smirk. “Taking notes for later, vod?” A sweeping gesture to bring attention to all the wedding prep is pointedly ignored as Hunter pretends not to hear the teasing question. 

“You missed a spot, Cross.”

Maker, he loves you, make no mistake. Hunter is content for the time being to take all the time the galaxy gives him with you, for the time being. 

But it’s too early to be thinking about marriage for him, he tells himself.

Maybe one day.

When the last of the crates full of various odds and ends have been moved into storage, and any paint splatters have been scrubbed from the floor, all that remains for the happy couple and their wedding party is waiting for the big day. Time is idled away with plenty of sightseeing and general merrymaking, everyone forging new memories together in the welcome wake of a three-year war. 

Perhaps the most exciting of these pre-wedding events was Cici’s final dress-fitting, for which Cici’s mother invites you and the rest of Cici’s mutual friends into the studio late one evening, when the sky has turned dusky and dark. Large changing screens have been brought in for the fitting, and curtains have been drawn over most of the curtains that overlook the lake. 

As Cici and her mother duck behind one of the opaque dividers, most everyone’s attention is given to something off in the distance, likely a first time for many. The elaborate structure, another Nabooian villa, glows brilliantly on an island’s lakeshore in the twilight. 

“We were hoping everyone would get to see it lit up. That’s Varykino Villa. Isn’t it beautiful?” Cici swoons over the sound of rustling and shifting fabric. “Before a family friend gave my parents this place, he told us he spotted a private wedding on Varykino Island while looking across the water one day. That was, what, almost three years ago, mom?”

Mrs. Ci hums in confirmation. “Before he completely lost his eyesight. It was already starting to go, then, but he was pretty confident the man and the woman were alone, aside from the officiant. A golden protocol droid and a blue astromech were all they had for witnesses.” The last of the zippers are fastened as some speculate on the unusual choice in witnesses, and Cici steps out from behind the divider to a wave of fawning awe. 

Wreathed in a flowing dress, Cici looks like a princess with her long hair pulled loosely over one shoulder. The cool-white fabric compliments the blue skin of her Pantoran heritage well. If she looks this good now, you can’t wait to see what she looks like once she’s gone through the hair and make-up process. She’d look like a proper queen. 

Smiling, she wrings her hands somewhat nervously. “Do you think Lane will like it?”  

It takes no time at all to reach a general consensus: how could he not? 

“Lane will love it when he sees you’ve recreated his armor pattern.” you tell her, gesturing to the beaded embellishments in the bodice. Paint patterns were just as personal as their names. Their colors were just as important too, if the way Hunter reacted to you wearing any combination of red and gray was any indication. 

He would tell you you looked good in just about anything, regardless of what you wore, but wearing anything in his colors was guaranteed to make your day extra special. 

Now that the final fitting has taken place, you expect to enjoy the refreshments and socialize for the rest of the night, but the fun is only beginning. 

Cici does more than just redressing in her previous clothing when she ducks behind the changing divider. With help from her mother, she wheels a large clothing rack covered by a large drop-cloth from behind the privacy screen. 

Curious murmurs ripple through your friend group. Is this what you think it is? 

“Are you ladies ready for a little fun?” 

The cover is removed with a flourish, revealing the rack packed full with all manner of fancy dresses and gowns in various sizes and styles. “There’s more behind the screen, too.” Cici promises, inviting you and everyone to look through all the fancy garments. A majority of them are wedding dresses, but intermixed you find ball gowns and cocktail attire in all manner of material. Chiffon, lace, satin, silk, tulle, velvet. The choices are near overwhelming. 

“Who’d like to go first?”

Down the hall from the primary studio, Hunter excuses himself from the bachelor party, a scribbled list of additional beverages he volunteered to get from cold storage in one hand with a promise he won’t take forever. From here, he can hear plenty of excited teasing and tittering from the studio. Sounded like the ladies were having a fun time, too. Good. 

Hunter starts down the hall, thinking he can slip past the partially open door unnoticed, but finds himself slowing when he hears your friends saying your name.

“Need help, honey?”

“Um, I think I got it!” you call back. 

Curiosity and temptation has gotten the better of him; from the door left ajar, Hunter peers into the studio. Just for a moment, he tells himself. Friends of yours are cloistered in a semicircle, trading giggles and whispers as their excitement builds. There’s several racks worth of expensive-looking dresses, and a changing screen in the corner. 

Mock fashion show? 

While Hunter has seen you wearing plenty of pretty and flattering things for everyday, casual events and special post-war celebrations, nothing would prepare him for the moment you step out from behind the privacy screen, clothed in a large, predominantly white dress. 

From the uncomplicated neckline and upper bodice of the a-line dress, the waist’s lacy accents hug you in all the right places before the skirt material fans out and creates a wide pool of silk at your feet, colors gradually building into a golden train with silken accents all the while. This doesn’t look like any sort of fancy party dress, as he initially assumed, but rather something bridal.

You’re modeling in a wedding dress. 

Hunter listens to the women peppering you with compliments, all while his heart flutters madly in his chest at the sight of you. Maker, you look beautiful. Radiant. 

You look like you could be the rest of his life. 

Hunter can’t explain it right now. He can’t tell what’s aligned, what’s fallen into place to make him so certain right now, but the feeling is unmistakable while he watches you show off the bridal gown to your friends. Spurred on by cheers and applause, you twirl and toss the fabric with bright laughter. You’re having so much fun. You have no idea he’s even there, practically entranced by you, envisioning your future, together.

One day, when the time is right, Hunter will make you a part of the rest of his life. 

Thank you so, so much for your patience, Dragon; I hope you enjoyed, thank you so much for sending in such a cute request! 🩷

Fic taglist: @msmeredithrose @lonely-day3636 @dukeoftheblackstar @dystopicjumpsuit

[Masterlist] [TBB Masterlist] [Taglist] [Requests: OPEN]

[esamastation]

hi!!! i just wanted to pop in after reading some of your AC fics (ones where desmond, ezio, and/or altaïr are at the forefront so in this case: i was born for this, terrible two, stone angel, gift of living well, impermanence, three fold, & earthly scene) and say that you're a brilliant writer. as someone who's trying to write longer, more impactful stories, it's admirable how you prioritize the plot and how romance is a sweet part of it. (this is part 1 of this message bc of the word count!)

you construct romance in an original, cathartic way that feels effortless. i just finished 'i was born with this' and the romance that forms between the characters feels so natural and unforced. another thing i love in your fics is that when desmond goes back in time, he always (unintentionally at first) makes an impact in furthering knowledge, inventions, etc centuries ahead of when they were supposed to happen. more importantly, desmond finds his well-deserved happy ending.

your fic ideas are also so creative and out of the box. i'm currently going through the games right now and desmond has been so so much shit (unwillingly) and he deserves some rest and happiness :,) another thing i love is how you always leave a hopeful ending that makes me ache to know what happens after!! you flesh out the characters so much over the span of + 100,000k words, tie things wonderfully at the end, and make me feel out breath (in a good way)

yeah, to sum that up, you're an amazing writer!! i also wanted to ask you some questions about writing. i aspire to write long fics, but i struggle with plotting out events =( i feel like i rush the events in how i want to get to the end where the characters are happy! do you have a writing process? do you plot out your stories or kind of go with the flow? do you have any tips on improving your writing? i totally get if you don't have any advice! have a great day!

-

Thank you for your nice comments, sorry it took so long to reply, I was feeling very antisocial. Anyway.

I do not have a writing process - I'm what they call a gardner writer, I take characters and I put them into situations and see how things develop and plot either happens or it doesn't. Maybe I have vague plans like "here's a scene I want to see in future" and "this is a result I want them to come to" and then try to write towards those goals, but they don't always pan out. It's all very chaotic and leads to lot of dropped fics, but it's how I enjoy writing. (It really helps having someone reading your stuff and poking at the plot holes though, I got a lot of fics that only got as far as they did because nimadge or someone else was there along for the ride.)

I dunno if there's anything other that just practice that can improve a person's writing. Some people recommend writing short stories and flash fiction, some people say your should write X amount of words every day. If all else fails there's thousands YouTube videos on subject.

Personally I'm a huge advocate of taking ideas from other people and putting your own spin into them. Derivate, rehash, put them in a blender, see what comes out. Like, don't copy Lord of the Rings word for word and publish it as your own work, that's bad - but maybe dwarf and elf going on adventures together is a idea that could go places. Fanfiction is all derivation upon pre-existing ideas.

Related, I whole heartedly endorse anyone who wants to take plots and ideas I've written and taking a crack at them with their own style. It's pretty much how I learned to write as wee bab on a typewriter, stealing from the books I enjoyed. And hell, if you don't have a style, try someone else's. One is my most popular fics started with me trying to emulate the style and cadence of narration of a completely unrelated TV series I was watching at the time. I don't think anyone even noticed.

Once you have enough practice under your belt, your style will develop on its own.

[obeyme-and-myfics]

Hi!! May I request a continuation of short!MC with the side characters? I love your writing! 💖💖💖

Yes, of course! I took a little break from posting on the internet so that's why it took so long for me to respond. Also thank you! I try to write as well as I can. (●'◡'●) Some side characters are gonna be missing from this cuz I'm not quite comfortable writing for them yet.

I haven't met Raphael, Mephistopheles or Thirteen(I am planning on making their own parts when I do tho!) in anything other than events. So I'd like to apologize in advance because if I remember correctly one of your favs is Mephisto o(TヘTo) (I hope this doesn't sound weird since we've only met briefly on the discord server /gen)

Anyway onto the actual prompt (￣y▽￣)╭

Part 1| Part 2(here)

Prompt: How Obey Me Characters react to a short MC/Y/N

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, Luke(/p)

Headcanon List

CW/TWs: Teasing for your height,

Diavolo

I don't think he'd have much of a reaction seeing as most people/demons are a lot shorter than him

This man is easily 7ft I don't think he gives a fuck, everyone is puny to him

He'd definitely say something by accident, something he doesn't think would bother you

He's a himbo and oblivious to this shit

He'd probably say some shit like

"You're quite small for a human" or something like that

Crouches/Bends down to talk to you sometimes

Only when he really feels like it

I swear he's not trying to be rude

He'll pick you up only if you ask

For any reason too, he adores his small human

He respects you and doesn't want to help you like that unless you want him to

If he sees you struggling to grab something he'll get it for you

Gently reminds you that he can help you and you don't need to struggle with these things while he's there

Worries about other demons taking advantage of your small stature and hurting you

So he checks in on your wellbeing more often than he would if you were taller

If he knows you're around, he's making sure he doesn't accidentally run over you

I'm so sorry! to be fair he's probably gotta do that with bitches 5'7 and below

He'd probably enjoy holding/hugging you too

Like you ask for cuddles this man is cradling you in his arm

Maybe even rocking your ass to sleep

Barbatos

Man has nothing to say about your height

Like he couldn't care less about it and has the foresight to not say shit if you're a little insecure

Not that he would even if you weren't

If he sees you struggling to get something off a higher place, he's helping even if you don't ask/don't want him to

That's just kinda how he is

If you request he stop that he will but you need to communicate your wants and needs

If he sees you getting bullied(/lh) for your height and you look distressed he'll give to culprit a bit of a scolding

Depending on how bad it/Who it was it'll be harsher

Of course he'd like for you to defend yourself at least a little bit

When you do he can't help but smile a little to himself.

He likes to serve the ones he cares for so if any difficulties arise due to your height he'd be happy to attend to them

That is to say its only if you ask/he has the time to

He is still the butler of the future ruler of the Devildom after all

Barbatos also wouldn't treat you any different than how he would treat some one of average height or taller

Solomon

He makes the occasional comment about your height to your face

Giggles about it in private on occasion LIKE A BITCH

It's only occasionally that he does this tho

Overall its not that big of a deal to him

He's been alive long enough that he doesn't really care

Will absolutely help you with things your height hinders you from doing

If you're being bullied about your height he'll give you a chance to defend yourself before jumping to your defense

Will pick you up and carry you sometimes just for shits and giggles

Other times he picks you up and carries you away to hang out or aid him in another one of his magical endeavors.

and now we have Nightbringer /j

He's not doing anything to talk to you on your level Slay, king Solomon. Slay

He thinks its mildly entertaining to watch you struggle to grab something off the top shelf/anything out of your reach

He's a bit more careful with you than he normally would be with others

Has offhandedly suggested making something to make you taller if you'd like it

you gonna whoop his ass or should I?

He enjoys watching you stand up for yourself despite your height

It can be intimidating when people who are much taller than you pick on you and he understands that

or maybe you're not intimidated in the slightest and just wanted to unleash a can of whoop ass on some assholes who've been picking on you Period. Slay honestly.

He understands that too, and enjoys watching it go down

He finds it satisfying

Simeon

Won't comment on it most of the time but he does think its really cute

Only makes a comment when he's asking if you need help getting something higher up than you can reach

and its normally something like

"Oh! MC did you need help? It looks like you can't quite reach that."

A bit more careful with you than he would be normally

Though he's gentle by nature most of the time Sadistic Simeon has me in a chokehold fr fr

He won't get down to your level or do anything to demean you

not intentionally anyway

He doesn't say anything about your height for the most part but he will slip up every once in a while

It's nothing bad he just lets it slip he thinks your height is cute

He encourages you to stand up for yourself but has no problem sticking up for you or stealing you away if you're being bullied too much.

Happy to help with anything your height makes difficult when you ask

Other than that he doesn't treat you any differently due to your height

Luke

He's just happy he's not the only short one here.

If you're shorter than him he doesn't comment on it but he is excited to not be the shortest there.

He would make a few comments about it but you just gotta tell him to stop and he will

He doesn't want to make you upset with him

Sweet baby just wants to bond with you over the others making fun of your heights

Doesn't hesitate to yell at anyone making fun of your height and calling you names because of it

Makes sure you're okay afterwards

He's getting made fun of for this though

The brothers would take to calling him your guard dog

He barely gives you a chance to defend yourself but will back up if you defend yourself before he can

He borderline clings to you like a sloth

Comes to you every time he needs to vent about everyone bullying him for his own height

You're his favorite human now

If he's taller than you, he will do his best to help with things you can't reach.

He's happy to help out his friend

[fallenangelicss]

Voices In The Air

PAIRING | Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood)

WORD COUNT | 1158

SUMMARY | After being picked up off the streets, thrown in a sack and tossed through a portal, Jack is a little worse for wear as he emerges in Santa's workshop. The soothing voice of an unknown spirit seems to catch his attention and make the situation a little bit better. Well, until his guard dragon attacks.

RATING | General Audiences

WARNING/TAG(S) | No Archive Warnings Apply

A/N | Soooo this is my first HTTYD and Rise of the Guardians fic so I hope you all like it. I'm planning on doing maybe two different series with this pairing, maybe a third one if I'm really feeling into it so lots to come from me I hope. I'll also probs write more one-shots like this in the future as I used to love this ship so much. Also, if you'd like to support me then you should consider downloading the Kinder World app with this link. My referral code is WV9K4X but if you need a new referral code then feel free to reach out!

EVENTS | @aug-kissed | Hand Kiss

“Can we hurry this up please?” Jack heard a voice murmur from the other side of the sack he had just been shoved in and thrown through who knows what. He did however know that whatever he crossed through had made him feel sick to the stomach. A note to self, if Bunny’s ever around, check your surroundings. Finding the opening of the bag once the nauseating feeling in his stomach settled down a bit, Jack began to claw his way out, hearing the same voice as before said as he did so, “Toothless and I need to get back to the Hidden World before-”

“You and your dragon will be able to leave soon. But for now, quiet,” A much deeper voice spoke up, cutting off the other midsentence which Jack thought was a real shame since he found the voice rather soothing. He wouldn’t mind if the deeper voice with a Russian accent was the one to quiet down and the voice from before started speaking, making this whole scenario a bit more bearable. Maybe he had a face to match the voice, Jack thought, some haste being pumped into getting out of the bad. “Hey, there he is. Jack Frost!”

“Wow… you’ve got to be kidding me,” Crawling out from the bag, Jack came face to face with Santa Claus, Sandy and some hummingbird creature. This is not what he had been hoping to come across after being kidnapped off the streets by the Easter Bunny. Come to think of it, where was that little rodent? Jack didn’t have much time to ponder as he was yanked from the ground by two Yeti’s and flung into the air. With a strangled breath, Jack quickly called, “Hey, hey, put me down.”

“I hope the Yeti’s treated you well,” Santa said with a large grin, partly covered by his white mustchase and beard. By simply placing his hands on his hips, Santa looked like a force to be reconned with and if Jack was anyone else, he might’ve just started shaking in his non-existent boots. But he was Jack Frost. The embodiment of snow, fun, and everything good in the world. Some ancient and overgrown Guardian wouldn’t change the fact that he had a reputation to uphold.

“Oh, yeah,” Jack began, picking up his stick and swinging it over his shoulder. Stepping forward, he physically relaxed his body as he began to look around Santa’s workshop, taking in every single detail from the inside, many of which he had missed when spying from out outside. The forced smile that had stretched across Jack’s face quickly dropped when his eyes landed back on Santa, “I love being shoved in a sack and tossed through a magic portal.”

“Oh, good. That was my idea,” Morphing his face into even more of a deadpan at Santa’s words, Jack couldn’t believe what was leaving the man's mouth. Was he dumb or did he intentionally ignore the sarcasm that was radiating off of him? Turning to the people next to him, Santa began to introduce them one by one, something Jack didn’t need nor ask for.  “You know Bunny, obviously. And the Toothfairy. And Sandman. Sandy? Sandy…? Wake up! And of course, you know-”

“I doubt he knows me, Santa,” There it was again, that voice. Jack’s head whipped around to where it had come from to find a boy just like himself perched on one of the many ledges that Santa’s workshop had to offer. His gear all seemed to be made out of leather or old metals that didn’t seem like anything from this century. That wasn’t the only thing Jack noticed about him either. Wrapped around his being was a large beast with black scales and piercing green eyes. “He might know what I represent though.”

“I definitely know something,” Jack said before his mind could catch up with what he was saying. A gust of wind burst into the room, smacking the windows open as it lifted Jack, allowing him to guide up to where the man sat. There was a small voice in the back of Jack’s mind telling him to be careful with that dragon present but like with most things, it went ignored in favour of something better. “Hey, I’m Jack. Jack Frost. And you must be?”

“What is he doing?” Bunny questioned, not even trying to keep his voice a whisper as he almost laughed at Jack’s attempts to talk to the unnamed man. He didn’t understand what was so funny, not when it was clearly a dig at him as he tried to talk to the unknown man. 

Looking past Jack, the man called out to Santa before getting up and getting ready to walk past, “See? No idea who I am.”

“Like I said,” Jack quickly got in front of the man, stopping him in his tracks. The dragon that Jack had been ignoring up until now let out a low growl, a warning that more was to come if Jack didn’t watch himself. One of the man’s brows raised at Jack’s hindrance, waving a hand back at the dragon to calm him down. “I know some things. Like how you’re one of the handsomest spirits I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“Do you even know who you’re talking to mate?” Bunny called out, making Jack groan a little as he turned back to face the overgrown kangaroo. Shrugging a shoulder at him, Bunny took that as the go-ahead to keep talking. “That’s Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, former Chief of Berk and the Spirit of Dragons.”

“He’s hot,” Jack says not too sure of himself now that everyone was staring at him as if he had made a mistake. When he turned to look back at Hiccup, he saw a light blush spread across the man's cheeks, his eyes adverted so as to not look Jack directly in the face. Just the sight of the flustered man put a bit more confidence in Jack as he reached a hand forward, taking ahold of Hiccup’s and lifting it. He continued to ignore the growing growl from the dragon behind Hiccup as he brought his hand up to his lips, placing a soft kiss there. “Like I said, I’m Jack. It’s nice to meet you Chief of Berk, Spirt of Dragons.”

Jack didn’t even get to see Hiccup react as he was being pounced on, a mass of black obstructing his vision as he was shoved to the floor with a massive weight on top of him. The air was immediately knocked out of him as he lay there for a second, staring up to meet some blasting green eyes staring down at him with fury. Almost as if he was charging up, Jack could see something purple glowing from his throat. “Toothless, no!”

“Definitely not Toothless,” Jack screeched as he was picked up by some wind and swept away.

“Now you’ve done it, mate.”

[funkyplantguy]

Saw u doing asks and realized I was late and then thought “hey why don’t i ask anyways bcs you can use this as an excuse to write whenever u want”

Soo here I am ‘:D

I LOVED After Midnight, actually read it a couple times now, and saww that you’ve been wanting to write more of it, and I rlly would love to hear about either how Scar and Grians first actual date goes or future relationship.. Literally anything u write I will read :3

Also the background/cub and mumbo burst in was incredible and i keep thinking about one liners from it that had me dead 😭✨

Also also I’ve been thinking of drawing a scene from when they were at the party, or just Grians outfit, bcs idk what it was but I keep picturing him with mushroom vibes like this- 🍄 What kinda outfit did you have in mind tho im curious??

OMG MAGGYYYYY IN MY ASKS ?!???!??? HELLO HELLO HELLO BELOVED HELLO !!!

WAAUUUUGH thank you!!! after midnight is something that i absolutely did not intend to be anything more than a one-off smut for scarian smooch fest, but something which has (happily) become more! i'm planning at least two more one-shots in the same universe (a first date fic for scar and grian, of course, as well as a first time fic for cub and mumbo), and then...who knows! maybe i'll have them go on a road trip, or something silly like that. it's kind of nice to just have a "basic" au (since almost midnight is just. a college au, essentially) with which to just have a good ol' silly goofy time with between my other projects/zines/events! and i'm so honored and flattered that people have enjoyed it in the way that they have <3

HAHAHAHA YEAH - i absolutely adore writing dialogue; i was giggling the entire time writing that scene to be so honest with you. i also adore cub and mumbo. cumbo <3

WAUUUUGHHH?? MAGGY ART???? MAGGY FANART???? i weep and sob and cry. you are SO correct with the mushroom vibes - i pictured him in a maroon corset top (something strapless) and a short, tight black skirt. maybe some thigh-high boots, too? honestly, go wild - you've Got The Vibe, our brain cells are connected and i will GREATLY cherish any art you may or may not make for this silly little au <3

[babiebom]

Bachelors and what kind of ~dere they would be

A/N: I thought this would be something cool to write headcanons for especially because I've played through the Sebastian yandere mod and have watched vids on the others being yanderes. Personally I feel as if some of them don't really fit the yandere category and others would fit them more.

Tw: none as far as i know. Does sort of spoil one of Sam's heart events and a game event.

Word count: at least 10 bullet points per character

Sebastian

Kuudere

Describes as often plays it cool and even in the most stressful situations they're calm and collected. They never panic and often remain distant and analytical until the end.

I feel like Sebby doesn't often show his emotions, especially because he seems introverted.

But the thing is he doesn't seem like the shy uwu scared of people introverted he's more of a voluntary introvert and just prefers being along but has no problem interacting with people

So for that I'm saying he's more the type to always be calm around the person he likes, never making his feelings obvious and never treating them any different than he would treat anyone he sees as a friend.

Kinda reminds me of an anime scene(I forgot the name but its space themed)

Of where the girl basically confesses her feelings and calls the guy an idiot after they talk about what they plan for the future and she says her dream is to become his wife and why can't he see that

And his reaction is basically ? I thought we were already together what?

And she's like ???? You've never made it clear that you like me and he's like yeah didn't think that i had to? I thought we were already together.

He gives off those vibes.

I also feel as though if he did open up it would be in a nonchalant way, it wouldn't be dramatic or romantic I think he would just be stating his feelings as facts.

And I feel like people often forget that this man is a huge nerd and super smart at least in my opinion

I mean he codes from home and plays dnd.

Even if he isn't a robotics and super science nerd like Maru is I think he is a smart and rather analytical person. I don't think he would be on the emotional side of things

If you get together he doesn't change much but does show his affection through touch and acts of service rather than his words.

Harvey

Dandere

Described as shy, quiet, and asocial is most situations. Stays quiet to avoid conflict

I feel as even though he's the town doctor he doesn't have many friends

Like he's only close to Maru bc she works for him in the clinic

And we usually see him hanging out alone or in his room looking at planes and stuff

I feel as though if he developed feelings for you either you would notice right away with how weird he acts around you or you wouldn't notice at all because you assume he's quiet with everyone unless its medically related.

So maybe not shy but quiet does describe him.

Obviously he opens up around you little by little the more you interact with him but it takes a lot of effort on both if your parts

On yours you have to consistently bother him and talk to him which is a lot of work especially when its not reciprocated at first

And on his he has to allow himself to be vulnerable and open with a person, its even harder when you feel romantic feelings for that person because what if they don't really like you in that way or they decide they don't like you after getting to know you

Very sweet man when you get together, still quiet but in a more comfy way.

Shane

Tsundere

Described as hostile and cold on the outside and sweet and kind on the inside

And I feel like that exactly describes Shane

While he is an alcoholic(recovering or not based on how you see him and play the game)He is very sweet even if not to people other than you(once you get to know him), jas, and his chickens.

Does seem like the type that once he starts feeling things for you he would start helping in small ways but also tries to not make it obvious

Oh he sees you walking from the woods with a big ass bag of fiber rocks and wood?

He'll offer to carry it if you need help

Sees you out and about in town, asks what you're up to and if you need help with anything

But don't think that he'a doing this because he likes you

He doesn't he just wants to pay back the kindness you've given to him back to you so he doesn't owe you anything

Ends every sentence to you with stupid or idiot if it allows without seeming genuinely mean

Does really like you and slowly starts showing you that once you show you aren't going anywhere

Does still get incredibly flustered when you do something sweet for or to him

Though if you get together is more open with his affection.

Elliott

Yandere

Described as a person that is very loving and affectionate to their loved one until it becomes a constant obsession leading them to become overprotective, violent, and psychotic towards anyone they deem a threat to their loved one, even the loved one themself

First of all his yandere mod was the scariest one yet like ooof

And while he does not seem like a violent person

He is a writer, which means he is some sort of delusional, creative, and or imaginative that I think he could have a mental break and carry out the things he imagines. 

We see that due to him being a writer, he is basically a hermit because all he does is stay in his cabin and write all day

Like yeah he's friends with Leah but how often do you think he actually leaves his home seeking interaction?

I feel like he would meet you and then suffer from a writers block and its your fault because now all he can think about is you

You're his muse

And due to that he becomes obsessive over you, no one else can have you he needs you at the very least more than they do.

Would 1000 percent stalk you, in his mind he's just watching over you to make sure nothing happens to you

Whether that be in town, on your farm, in the mines...he has to keep you closeby.

Speaking as a writer that does get very obsessed with things to the point of me changing what i write about and how often I think about or daydream about it

I think he is the most likely candidate for this kind of 'love' towards a person

Your imagination can delude your thinking, paired with living in a cabin alone with only your thoughts and silence it's no wonder he would be slightly insane.

Sam

Bakadere

Described as clumsy, stupid, and lacking in common sense when dealing with things in their life, but also very optimistic, and having a carefree, child-like innocence.

While this may seem like I'm roasting him I'm not

I do think he sometimes seems clumsy or dumb or even maybe like a teen especially because he's just playing guitar or skateboarding or playing video games

But there are glimpses of him being responsible and caring

Like how he actually had a job, even if it's part time

Or during his heart event when Vincent asks if their dad is going to come home before we find out that he indeed does come home

He covers his true feelings with optimism and happiness even if he's worried, which makes me think he fits this.

He only wants his loved one to be happy, and while constant optimism may seem or be annoying so certain people, he wants to be that light in your life.

And because he's so optimistic he is naturally kinder to others, while others like Sebastian, Shane, or Haley are standoffish when you meet them, Sam is sweet and is happy to meet you which translates well into getting to know you and then shifting into a romantic relationship

So while he may seem dumb to others, even to you with how positive he's being he's actually far from it even if he is a little reckless and clumsy sometimes

He turns down the constant optimism after getting together, but never stops being positive towards you, no matter if you succeed or fail, he's there to pick you up again with kind words and unwavering support.

Alex

Also Bakadere

but for a totally different reason

the dude is basically a himbo, though some of the things he says can be seen as iffy or mysogynistic

im pretty sure he doesn't mean any of it though, and while he can come off as dumb and out of touch he is shown to be sweet and caring and using his frat boy persona as a way of keeping people at an arms length

due to that i see him as similar but different to Sam

both boys seem kind of dumb, annoyingly optimistic, and sort of innocent in a way.

and both boys tend to use that as a surface personality, and until you actually take time to know them(Sam's worries, Alex's background and current worries) they seem like the type of people to be positive in any situation

Also seems as if he would take on a leader role simply because everyone voted for him to be it because of his positivity.

another thing is how certain(though inside he's not as) that he will become a gridball player.

Like the dude only talks positively about his dreams and is constantly working towards his goal

as well as we see in his dialogue that the farmer does indeed sometimes get annoyed at his words such as when he says things like "what why're you looking at me like that"

exactly as an anime character in this role would do.

Though after marriage is still sorta a dummy which is low key kinda cute.

[radiowallet]

Meant to Be - Part 1

The Arrangement

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand, Eventual Oberyn Martell x Fem!OC (nameless, third person) Summary: Preparations for Oberyn's future are made. WC: 4.7K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Canon-typical violence, grief, death, political intrigue, arragned marriage, drinking, mentions of food, allusions to vaginal sex, Oberyn being a sexy little shit. Oberyn Martell comes with his own warning.

A/N: Hello besties! Welcome to my first foray into a multi-chapter GoT fic. Before we dive in, a few things to keep in mind: This is an alternate universe that takes place after the main events of the show. Bran is still king of Westeros. Sansa is still queen of the north. Oberyn lives. Doran never had any children. Our Fem!OC is from Winterfell, but she is not a Stark and is a blank canvas physically. I'm excited to play around with two tropes I don't write (arranged marriages and soulmates) and try something different! Thank you for joining me on this little journey!

Masterlist II Series Masterlist

>>> Part 2

Arrange yourself for my heart

Plan for it, in all its splendor

Prepare and shape and mold yourself

To me, For me, With me

---------------

Oberyn had always considered Dorne to be the center of Westeros. The thought was born out of bias, his love for his home and his people always tilting the scales in a way most would deem unfair. But it was more than just a loyalty birthed from love that tied his heart to the southernmost part of the map. Dorne was beautiful - hills of sand, a burning sun, and two seas with water so blue and waves so deep. The fruit was sweeter, the wine stronger, the days dipped in languid honey gold. 

With the war over and justice delivered in more ways than one, Oberyn had thought there would be no better feeling than his return to the sandy shores of Sunspear. Even with his heartbeat muted with grief for a beloved sister lost, he still felt a soft swell of peace when his feet touched those first sandy dunes, the sound of crashing waves filling his head, the sun-soaked air coating his lungs.

Oberyn did not think it possible for that peace to be so easily taken.

“Marriage?”

“Yes, brother. Marriage.”

Funny how one word can skew the direction of one’s life so quickly. How the prospect of something that most would easily agree to, perhaps even take joy in, could shake and shatter an easy landing.

Doran says the word so matter of factly, leaning back in his wheelchair, regarding Oberyn across the long width of the table, his studious gaze more piercing than it has any right to be. A full breakfast is spread out between them — berries and cheese and honey-glazed breads sweeter than sin — meant as a welcome home in honor of the second-born prince, a celebration for his triumph over The Mountain. Tonight there would be a feast, one to mark the end of the war and the Lannister’s reign; a newly crowned King of Westeros to toast to. 

Oberyn had been looking forward to the pomp and circumstance, if only to give him a chance to drown himself in Dornish wine, the promise of sleeping off the effects in Ellaria’s arms in his own bed a tempting reward for his troubles. He had expected a lecture of some sort from his brother in the between of it all; a request he take a seat on some council or maybe a post within the city watch. He would have even entertained an encouragement to begin the search anew for his soulmate.

But now he sees his brother’s ploy for what it truly is. 

A trick.

A game.

An arrangement.

Tension stretches out between the two men, years of twisted perception coloring their opinions of one another, all manner of things unsaid mixed amongst the decadent feast that now lies untouched.

“I have never entertained the idea of a wife. Not once. I hardly see why you think I would now, my Lord.” Oberyn lets the last word drip from his lips with utter disdain, refusing to acknowledge the propriety of station when his brother has tried to trick him so. One of the many benefits of being second born was the lack of obligation on his part, and he had exploited the fact in excess, happy to allow his brother all the privilege of a crown. 

A privilege, it seemed in his brother’s mind, had run its due course.

“Because, Prince Oberyn,” Doran starts, his words spoken with a careful pace, “you are to be named my heir.”

The ground falls out from beneath his chair, every single sound within the great hall expanding and focusing in on him; every color too bright, every noise too loud. The crash of the waves against the palace walls is suddenly overwhelming, a sound that once reminded him of his home now a painful cacophony in his ears.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Oberyn is standing, one word heavy on the tip of his tongue, and yet it will not come. 

Doran, ever patient, continues on. “You will be Lord of Sunspear, Oberyn, as is your right by birth and by decree.”

“And if I refuse?” He murmurs, eyes trained on the grainy wood of the table below. “The marriage? Your throne?”

His eyes flit to the other man just in time to see his reaction. Doran, for his part, looks surprised, the sentiment pulling a chuckle from deep within Oberyn’s chest. Could his brother really be so obtuse? So set in his own ways? Was he truly incapable of accepting that some may not long for power? 

At the sound of his laughter, the older man scowls, dark eyes set upon him with barely cloaked anger. For a moment, Oberyn thinks he sees his brother move to stand, a pained look stealing across his features briefly before settles back further into his seat and speaks again. 

“Have you no sense of honor left, my brother? Did your battle with The Mountain steal the last of your love for your family away? Or perhaps justice was the only thing keeping you tethered to us?”

“I avenged our sister–”

“Who is gone! She is gone, Oberyn,” Doran urges, one finger pushing down onto the table, emphasizing his point with practiced precision. “And it is us who remain! To carry on, just the same as those who came before. It is our right! Our duty! We need an heir. A legitimate hei–”

“My daughters are legitimate!” The interruption is roared, the scream of his voice echoing up into the wide open ceilings, coated in an anger he had thought he left to die beneath the suffocating rubble of the Red Keep. The fury leaves him as fast as it came, and in its wake there seems to be only one option left.

He turns away abruptly, icy cold spite bleeding out between the brothers with every step he takes away.

---------------

The charcoal in her hand smells of smoke, earthy and bitter, a scent that will cling to her fingers long after the day is done. It’s a perfect bedfellow to the fire crackling in the far corner of the room, the bright blend of reds and yellows giving just the barest illusion of warmth. 

Winterfell was named well. Even with winter fading into the pages of the history books, the north still carried a bitter cold, one she feared she would never be fond of. 

Her entire lifetime had been spent between the cold stone, searching for moments of warmth beneath her mother’s skirts or father’s arms. They were stolen, like bits of bread or cheese when the cooks had their backs turned, a tiny treat to melt on her tongue when nothing else in the frigid halls of Winterfell could. 

Her parents were gone now, casualties of time and its ever pressing need to march forward. She counts the smallest of blessings that they were gone before the Walkers came, thankful at least that they were spared the heartache of war.

They passed quietly, together in their bed, hands intertwined, palms pressed tightly; soulmates destined to walk those last steps together. A strange twinge dips down low in her belly; something like jealousy, she thinks, that her parents found each other so easily. They moved together with such certainty. A confidence given by fate or the Gods or whatever it was that made the world exist as it did. 

And in contrast, she had decided long ago, that she would gladly trade the suredness of a match to her soul if it meant she got a say in the outcome of her life.

Still – did her life look any different now than it did back then? Perhaps in the grandest of schemes. But…

Her father had been in charge of the stables, her mother a close companion to Lady Stark. And now she held a similar seat, sitting near the side of Sansa Stark, once her childhood playmate, grown into the Queen of the North. School lessons and daydreaming exchanged for talks of trade agreements and wall management. If she closed her eyes it would be easy to imagine two young girls in thick dresses and fur lined coats giggling over future soulmates and happily ever afters.

For the smallest moment in time, Sansa had hoped her soul’s match to be Joffrey, waxing poetic about true love and blonde haired babies. Though there had been endless heartache surrounding the truth, it had been a day she celebrated when the raven arrived from King’s Landing, Sansa’s elegant handwriting informing her that she and Joffrey were not to be wed. 

So many things never came to pass, for either of them. Soulmates and love stories set aside in the name of survival, and through it all, she watched as the younger girl grew to hold the weight of a crown she was born to wear. And she was content to live the rest of her days honoring the Starks the same as her parents did, ever aware of all she has to thank them for.

A roof over her head and a job to do – a noblewoman by the queen’s decree – she helped uphold House Stark at Sansa’s behest and in return, was given the freedom to do as she pleases within the confines of Winterfell’s stone walls. Council meetings littered with talks of policy and procedures sitting neatly between walks through the woods and time spent fireside, her fingers stained black, her dresses soaked with snow, her head swimming with negotiations. Lineage and duty tied her to this cold place, history and love filled it with warmth. 

She considers the scrap of parchment in her lap, the blacks blended into varied shades of grey, a picture of an empty chair staring back at her. She traces the shape of it, a regal rendering, more throne than chair, but it looked lonely in the bleak streaks of black and white. Something missing that she couldn’t put a name to. 

The image had come to her in a dream, the compulsion to sketch it following quickly after. When the queen had dismissed her for the day, she retreated quickly and quietly to the main sitting room, fingers itching for the warmth of charcoal, for the smooth feel of parchment, the empty chair sitting heavy at the back of her dream.

Perhaps if she could see it, hold it, in more than just her mind’s eye, then its purpose would present itself. 

The only answer she’s given is the snap of the fire at the far end of the room. 

---------------

Oberyn has no desire to make mention of Doran’s plans to Ellaria. Upon his arrival to his quarters he sends for her, the servant given the task in a venomous tongue that he’ll remind himself to apologize for later. For now he kicks off his boots and strips down to his trousers, pacing the room from end to end, the monotony doing nothing to contain his frustrations. 

He considers the how and the why and the who of his current situation, anxious for someone to blame, desperate for a way out. He snaps his jaw and bites his teeth, sinking deeper into memories as he stalks about his quarters; marriage, to whatever end, never seemed as advantageous as most made it out to be. He had learned a whole lifetime’s history on the subject within the walls of the citadel, his own familial experiences confirming what books had taught him. 

A sister wed to a dragon in the name of peace —dead. A brother betrothed to his soul’s true match — alone. 

And now he…

No. 

Oberyn refuses to even consider the ridiculous notion coming to fruition.  

He leaves the very idea of weddings and brides and political good-will behind him, moving to the open terrace just off of his sitting room, intent to sulk in silence beneath the late morning sun. He throws himself down onto the nearest chaise, pouring himself a full glass of wine, and then a second, urging the sweet liquid to wash away the bitter taste of breakfast. His eyes close, the crash of the waves lulling him into a restless sleep, the heat of Dorne burning the backs of his eyelids as he ignores the reality of his brother’s sensible voice.

A different voice of reason is what drags him back from the flames. 

“Something troubles you.”

Ellaria Sand has always been too clever for Oberyn’s own good. She watches him with a calculating eye, a patience that matches his impetuous nature in more ways than he could bother to count, and in many ways she is his perfect match. There was no one better to lead his fledglings, his sandsnakes, his family. Even now, after years of sharing in each other, bending and curving to match their hearts together over time. They know what makes the other moan, cry, beg, and he is more than confident in his affections for her. 

But oh, how she vexes him so. 

“The only thing that troubles me is that it has been too long since I felt the curve of your body beneath my own.” 

She smiles, her lips yielding sweetly to him, but something curls at the back of her dark eyes, some sort of secret that he’s certain he should already know but cannot remember. He will not ask and she does not speak it. Neither would dare in the state that he’s in. Instead she steps between his spread legs, thin fingers loosening the sash that barely holds her dress to her skin, revealing herself to the Dornish sun above. 

Oberyn sits up, large palms smoothing around the dip of Ellaria’s hips to cup her backside and pull her forward until the weight of her settles in his lap. She fits to him, molds herself around his body, hard edges and soft curves matched in a way he knows and loves and craves more than words allow, the hard length of his cock fitting deep inside her warmth.

His lips find her skin, mapping a steady path up the column of her neck until finally they meet in a long overdue kiss. Their lips slant together, a soft press at first, just enough to remind him that she is here before he dips his tongue, eager to remind himself of her taste. She’s spiced honey and burning smoke, biting at the corners of his mouth, and Oberyn would gladly suffocate on her if given the chance. 

When he breaks away, it’s with a broken sob masked behind a curse, his forehead falling to her own. A wish neither of them would ever dare to say out loud hangs like a cloud above them, blocking out the heat of the sun. But it does not stop Oberyn from pressing himself to every inch of Ellaria’s skin, hoping against his own foolish heart that this is the day their match is revealed. 

---------------

Sansa Stark strikes an imposing figure. Her red hair and piercing blue eyes burn bright against the soft greys of Winterfell and yet she does not seem out of place. She moved through the halls with purpose, each step taken with intent, each decision made with a warm heart. She cared for her birthright with both her hands, holding it in a way so much like her father but in other ways not. 

She was born for it. Then bred for it.

 

And still, it exhausted her.

 

Sansa sits before her now, boots kicked off, wiggling her stocking-covered toes just out of reach of the fire, her head tipped back and her eyes closed, content in what must be her first moment’s peace since she walked into the great hall this morning.

 

“I’ve had a taxing day, and I’m not sure where to start.”

“Can I suggest the beginning?”

A sharp glare peeks out between long lashes before a crooked smile and the poke of a tongue are pointed her way. She can’t help but tease the queen. Their companionship has always bordered on familiarity, a shared affection between them born from a childhood raised together, a lifelong friendship cemented in the hours of war. Most nights were spent in a manner such as this, idle chit chat fractured between the complaints of leadership while the scratch of charcoal and the crack of the fire kept cadence with both women’s words. Tonight was no different, save for the topic at hand.

“Prince Doran has made a request of me.”

“A request?”

It was not unheard of but still strange to hear from so far south, especially in a time of peace.

 

“A lady for a betrothal to his younger brother.”

 

“The Red Viper?”

Sansa sits up, then nods, eyes trained on the fire, the flames seemingly giving her the strength to carry on. She makes no mention of her time at King’s Landing or her brief passing with the second-born son of Sunspear, her bottom lip caught between the uncomfortable snare of her teeth. If there is a statement to be made on him, on his character or his choices, the queen does not share it, instead watching as the shades of reds and yellows dance before her.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t found his soulmate yet. If the rumors are even considered to be half true, the numbers should be in his favor.”

Girlish snickers ring up high into rafters, the pair of them moving down to the floor, knees folded beneath them, goblets of wine tipping but not spilling in the process. They scoot forward, just enough to feel the warmth of the fire staining their cheeks, sneaky smiles shared between sips of wine.

“Were they asking after Arya?”

Sansa snorts with a roll of her eyes. “I think the entirety of Westeros knows what a fool’s errand that would be.”

 

“You, then?”

Her old friend tracks her gaze from the side of her eyes and they both smile and laugh. A fool's errand, indeed.

 

“Truthfully, Doran did not ask for anyone specific. I think he would be fine if I sent one of our mules as long as Oberyn is wed before summer arrives. No…the decision has fallen to me and my council.”

 

There is something Sansa is not saying, an annoyance left unspoken, digging a trench between the two women. Finally, with a huff and a laugh, she says what the queen is unable to.

 

“The council suggested I make the journey south and accept the Prince’s hand.”

The truth is what finally steals Sansa’s attention from the fireplace, and suddenly she is turning, grasping her hands and speaking with conviction. “I cannot make you. I would never. I…I know the agony of a forced nuptial.”

And then, softly, “But yes. Your name was the first.”

“I am not surprised,” she smiles despite herself. “I do vex the council so.”

 

“A woman of your nature, unmarried and unmatched, allowed to sit at your station is difficult for them to understand. But they forget that it is not their role to object to your presence.”

For a moment’s time neither woman speaks, choosing instead to sit together in silence, fingers tangled, the smell of charcoal and cherry wine permeating the air between them. A life of quiet snow and solid stone is considered, matched to the steady steps of duty and honor mixed with memories of love. She remembers her parents, the love they had for each other, and the love they held for Winterfell and the Starks. She matches it to her own heart, her own dedication, a life promised in honor of the north and to the woman sitting right beside her. 

The only answer possible presents itself clearly.

“I will go.”

---------------

The knock on the door is insistent, dragging Oberyn from sleep in a way he vows revenge for. He had been ignoring it the best he could, burying his face in the curve of Ellaria’s breast, lips finding the pulse of her heart, taking comfort in the beat of it. He’d be content to lay here, his cock hard between his legs, his lips shifting lower to capture the swell of her tit, but the knocking has yet to stop and it isn’t long before she’s pushing on his shoulder, telling him to take care of his business and hurry back to her.

He drags himself from the bed with a curse and a grunt, a cursory glance spared towards the open windows. The violet bursts coloring the sky tell him that dusk is fast approaching, and he can only assume it is a servant on the other side of the door to alert him that the celebrations will be starting soon. He makes the calculated decision to leave his robe on the floor, hoping to either scare whoever it is back to the kitchens or perhaps to tempt them inside to his bed.

 

Oberyn strokes himself slowly, his cock heavy in his hand, still slick with Ellaria’s arousal. He flings the door wide with an exaggerated flourish, a cheeky greeting dancing on the tip of his tongue.

“You can tell my brother I will be dining here tonight, but you’re welcome to jo-”

He stops short at the sight of Doran, dressed head to toe in regal shades of gold, seeming so tall when it’s Oberyn who stands and the Lord of Sunspear sits, his wheelchair pushed to the threshold of his little brother’s sanctuary.

 

“I’m quite alright, thank you. My tastes do match that of Dornish tradition but I’ll stop short of laying with my brother. We’ll leave that sort of thing to lions and dragons, yes?”

There is suddenly the weight of a robe around Oberyn’s shoulders and warm breath in his ear, Ellaria greeting Doran with a nod and a smile.

“It is good to see you, Prince Doran.”

“And you as well, my dear. How fare the girls?”

“Growing like weeds and twice a thorn in my side. They take after their father that way.”

“The best of us do. Speaking of, do you mind if I borrow your dearest paramour? I promise to only take a moment of his time from you.”

Oberyn watches the exchange through a frowned pout, arms crossed in a petulance he’s been wearing since this morning. The pair of them speak as if he isn’t even present, and before he has a chance to object to any of it, Ellaria is pushing him out into the hallway as he hastily ties his robe closed.

 

“I can only assume you are here to promise me that all plans of weddings and succession are done with. Perhaps even an apology to go along with this vow?”

“I think you know that I am decidedly not.”

“Well then you will be disappointed, dearest brother, to find that my stance on the matter has not changed.”

Doran sighs, his forehead falling to his hand, the years more apparent to Oberyn now than ever before. He thinks of maybe lightening the blow, an apology or an offer to sit at his right hand, to alleviate the sting of his refusal, but the words die on his tongue, his brother finding his voice first.

 

“You were given much leeway, Oberyn. Freedom. Mother and Father framed it beneath the guise of looking for your soulmate. A part of me had foolishly hoped, dearest brother, that you were doing just that.”

 

Oberyn wants to laugh, tries to, knocking his knuckles against the wall with a forced chuckle. But the sound breaks too soon and he looks away, considering the high arches and wide open space of his childhood home. How strange that all of sudden it feels entirely too small for his liking. When he finally turns back to Doran, he smiles.

 

“Who’s to say I wasn’t, brother? Skin to skin contact to find the true match to your heart. Is that not what the ancient tomes say?”

 

“You treat it like some game,” his older brother hisses, what sounds like a sneer chasing after his words. “But you do not know what it feels like. To find the other half of your heart, your soulmate. The whole world falls away. It’s a feeling unlike any other and you dismiss it, as if it is this fleeting thing you are too good for.”

Doran’s voice trails off, his eyes misting over in a way that Oberyn has only seen once before. He knows his older brother is thinking of his own love, his own loss; lucky enough to find his soulmate early on, unfortunate enough to lose her not long after. The pain had stolen the light from his brother’s life, any and all joy relegated to the back of his heart. Even the idea of taking a second wife in the name of duty had been too much for Doran to bear.

 

Oberyn was sick for the thought of it.

It hadn’t been hard for him to decide there and then that his love would never hold such rigid definitions

“But you do not know,” Doran keeps going, his voice crushed in frustration. “You run around with that Sand girl—“

“I love her.”

The admission rings out loud in the empty hallway, and Oberyn reveals in it, satisfied in his honesty, no matter the cost. 

“I have no doubt,” Doran agrees quietly. “But if you had found your soulmate, whether they be in the brothels or the beaches, what then? Could you bring yourself to choose?”

He refuses to look away, mournful eyes tracing Oberyn from top to bottom, and for a hair of a second he feels himself so small. Merely a lad desperate to ask his older brother what choice he should make. But the moment passes, impetuous frustration filling up the space between them yet again, his words boiling over the curve of his lips. 

“Why?” Oberyn hisses, bending down until he and Doran are nose to nose, as level a playing field as he can give himself. “Why now? When peace has finally found its way to us?”

“I am dying.”

He forgets how to breathe.

His vision blurs as his face goes numb. His fingers clench around empty air, fingernails digging deep enough to scar the skin of his palm. His skin pulls too tight. His blood burns too hot.

 

He stumbles back, can’t help but, another punch to his overwrought gut, his bare feet tripping as he tries and fails to find his footing.

“No…n-no. It is…you are…” He is muttering, mumbling in disbelief, unable to comprehend this one final truth laid down at his feet. His brother, the one he loves so dearly but resents more than he knows how to say…dying? Taken away? No.

“No.”

“The maesters have done all that they can, and still I grow weaker every day. There is no measure of time they can predict for me, but something in my bones tells me that any day marked as past is a gift that brings me closer to Mellario.”

“And you…have no heir,” Oberyn breathes out, the actuality of his brother’s request finally bearing witness before his eyes.

“I do, little brother.”

Oberyn clenches his jaw and turns away, ignoring the sting of tears in favor of facing the solution head on. There was no way about it now – he would become Lord of Sunspear – or risk allowing the decisions of Dorne’s leadership to fall to the new, and still so very young, king. And though he has no desire to play the game of thrones, it is not lost on him the rules that follow. 

Marriage.

Children.

This will fall to him now.

“Tell me about the girl.”

Doran gives a name; the same given by Sansa Stark, sent by raven only a few nights prior. 

“From the North?” He can’t help the incredulous sound of his voice, and he cringes inwardly at his own knee-jerk assumptions.

“Did your conquest of The Mountain and the end of the Lannister reign not appease you, little brother? Are you still carrying that thirst for vengeance inside you?

Oberyn scoffs. “Certainly not. The Starks were a victim of circumstance, same as most of us. I am just surprised. I thought they named the eldest girl their queen.”

“They did,” Doran confirms, his stance as steady as his answer.

“I did not think she was a fan of forced marriage, what with her messy history with them.”

“She was a little girl then. She is a queen now. Though if it helps alleviate your own feelings towards this particular arrangement, the lady took it upon herself to volunteer. Perhaps a desperation to hold on to her own agency. Not unlike someone else I know.”

“Volunteer? She has agreed to this? Then surely you will call her what she is, Doran – a crown-chasing child.”

“I can assure you she is neither. She is a woman grown and it is her allegiance to the north and her queen that has her agreeing to this arrangement. Nothing more.”

“Then she’s more fool than I feared,” Oberyn murmurs, touching his thumb to his bottom lip. 

“Well then, you’ll be two fools in matrimony. Rest well, my lord. Your bride arrives within the month.”

---------------

Dedications:

Biggest hugest thanks to @jazzelsaur and @astroboots and one poorly timed apple watch notification that inspired this fever dream insanity of a story. If not for the truly unhinged and chaotic nature of our DM's, this fic would never have been borne. Also shout-out to these two hoes for listening to me prattle on about GoT lore, soulmates, and all manner of "giving characters agency" discussion. I love you both a not normal amount.

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