#just for reference in the future be mindful of your wording for asks in general you all not scolding you personally anon

[meatsex]

Can you draw vinny, but he’s corrupted with body horror

stuck his finger in the usb port

[multific]

The Mistress of The Devil

Ivar the Boneless x DarkWitch!Reader

Warnings: mention of witchcraft, demons

Summary: Dark clothes, dark aura and powers. Where you came from, or who you were, not even Aslaug was sure anymore. All she could recall is that she promised to wed her son to you. And now, the Devil had a wife.

"I said you will marry her and this is the last I want to hear anything from you Ivar!" hearing his mother yell, Ivar knew, he lost this battle.

He was to marry this unknown woman.

He hated the idea.

Ivar will just simply kill her, he needs no wife.

He said, but the next day, just when Kattegat woke up, there stood a woman.

She was dressed in a black, her smile was kind, too kind for someone dressed so dark.

"My name is Y/N. I came for my wedding."

Everyone was confused. Aslaug ended up showing you around and introducing you to your future husband.

Ivar Ragnarson.

A strong man with an even stronger will. His legs were the proof of it. He never backed down, not letting anything get in his way.

You liked it.

The determination. The fire.

It is just what you need in a husband.

You smiled at Ivar as you two were wed.

Now, you had him.

---

Everyone knew the name Ivar the Boneless. Everyone feared Ivar the Boneless.

The fearless Viking known for his intelligence and insanity.

But then, a whisper came with the wind.

A whisper of his wife.

A woman, explained as the Darkness herself.

The Christians referred to her as Satan's Wife. 

Would that make Ivar Satan in their logic?

Everyone wondered how could Ivar be so fearless, how could he know so much.

The answer was simple, his wife.

You, with your powers inherited throughout the generations of women in your family.

You, the dark sorceress who fell madly in love with a not so simple Viking.

It was always you.

People who survived Ivar's wrath often said it was as if he had a dark figure standing behind him. The figure was tall, and had long arms and eyes that glow red like blood.

Overexadiration, but not far from the truth.

One of your many beings. 

Sentenced to follow and help Ivar in his fights, the being didn't have a name. It was simply black and tall.

Ivar swore sometimes he could see it from the corner of his eye.

It made him recall a time when he first saw one of your... pets.

It was very late, the fire has nearly gone out, both of you sleeping under furs.

Ivar woke, his mind fuzzy with sleep when he saw someone or rather something in the corner. 

But as his eyes focused and he woke up with a start, the thing vanished.

"What is it, Ivar?" you asked, being awakened from your slumber.

"I saw someone." you looked at the corner he kept on staring at.

"I will deal with it, sleep now." you smiled at him as you stood up and walked towards the entrance of the house.

Ivar followed you, crawling as you opened the door, his words failed him.

You stood a couple steps from the door, looking towards the darkness. You turned to your left, then to your right. As if you saw someone you spoke up, just as Ivar found his way towards the doorway.

"Let him sleep! You are scaring him, I told you before." you said, to him it looked like you have gone mad, then you turned to him. "I told you before, they wouldn't hurt you, don't be afraid of them, Ivar." you said and Ivar swore he saw something move to his right. He quickly looked and saw a pair or long fingers on the wall, the... thing right around the corner, Ivar felt frozen.

Then he saw it.

The face of a being, not human. Illuminated by the light coming from the window, Ivar's pair of blues met with black eyes and skin so pale, Ivar never seen anything like it before.

"It won't hurt you." you said with a lower voice as you watched Ivar. He then looked back at you, you saw his confusion. "They won't hurt you." you said once more and this time, Ivar believed you.

But never after that night did he ever want to see any of your creatures.

---

You were a rather light sleeper. 

There were occasions when nothing could wake you, and other times where a simple movement from Ivar made you wake up. This was one of those nights.

You were awakened by his simple movement, you couldn't fall back to sleep and so, you decided to just sit by the fire and watch it and Ivar.

Ivar woke up hours later, it was still dark outside and he looked at you.

"Are your demons haunting you again, Wife?"

"Quite the opposite, My King. I'm haunting them." you smirked and Ivar moved to the edge of the bed. 

You stood up and stood still a couple steps away from him.

"What would you do for me, Ivar?" you asked and he looked into your eyes.

"I would burn the entire world. Kill every last person just to get to you. Kill every last demon just to have you with me again." you moved onto the floor, crawling over, you placed your hands on his knees.

"Would you run for me?" you watched his eyes switch. 

You offended him.

You corrected yourself.

"If I give you the ability, would you run to me, run to save me, run to kill them? Would you?"

"C-Can you?" he asked, eyes filling with hope.

And you nodded.

A simple nod.

"Will it hurt?" came his next question.

Another nod.

"It would be worth it. Standing beside you, as the proud husband I am. Run to you? Without a question." he ran his fingers through your hair.

You sealed your deal with a kiss.

---

Everyone in Kattegat woke up with a feeling of dread.

Then they all saw.

Ivar walking around like nothing happened, as if his legs always worked.

The Devil could walk.

And it terrified everyone.

They only could imagine what his enemies would think, given how his own people were terrified of him. 

His brother always knew Ivar's wife wasn't a regular woman. They had this feeling about her, as they said, there was a darkness around her.

And upon seeing their brother walk, there was no more doubt about it.

She made him walk.

So, was is actually that Ivar married the Devil? Would it actually be the Devil and her husband?

One thing was for sure, now whenever someone looked into the dark of your eyes, they could hear people crying and begging.

And just like with many names in history, yours and Ivar's were eventually melted into one.

It was no longer Ivar the Boneless and his wife.

Soon, all people remembered was the fierce Viking, Ivar the Boneless.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

In case you want to help out a dreamer: patreon.com/multific  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS 

[tragedy-of-commons]

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boothill x gn!reader | wc: ~1.4k

Always get your hopes up.

tags/warnings: alcohol mentions and references (reader actually doesn't drink explicitly), romantic tension, ipc cog reader, mental gymnastics, pining in a weird constipated way

notes: this is a request from a lovely ao3 commenter, aqua! "...i'd like to request a Boothill x IPC reader if that's fine?" + i also combined this with a dialogue prompt from @/promptlyprompting!

“You’d be a fool to say no.”

Boothill’s voice remains a coarse drawl that almost sounds scolding. Even if your way of running the show has always been at odds with his, he’s never outright called you a fool of all things. His offer hangs in the air, making the sticky atmosphere of the bar even more unbearable. The bulbous red light fixtures sway overhead as the ringleader of a nearby group slams an animated fist on the counter, licks of crimson fleetingly painting the tops of your heads.

You laugh, drink going untouched as it always does; at the end of the night, when you both fight over the tab, you always surrender yours over to him as a peace offering. Maybe tonight you’ll need to give more than that to appease him. “I’d be a bigger fool to listen to you. You aren’t exactly known for being the most reasonable of the bunch.”

“I don’t extend this opportunity to just anyone,” he reminds you, lips curling into a toothy grin. “To me, it seems like you’re looking for excuses to miss out like you always do. That mind of yours ain’t too rigid for Galaxy Ranger business, y’know. I bet you’d make it work.”

Boothill is weird, that much is apparent, yes, but only he would ask you to join him on his journey, call you a fool, and then compliment your mindset all in the same artificial breath. His audacity is so offensive that it’s a wonder that Lan themself hasn’t struck him down. He gets away with so much - including making you hope for a different future. Including making you hope for a different future with him.

The exterior of the bar is just as cramped and loud as the interior. Visitors modding their vehicles on the outcrop of the main strip—Mechanic’s Haven—shout and drill away at the innards of spaceships, drones, satellites, and whatever else - wayward sparks landing at the feet of shoppers and pedestrians. There’s something to be said about an IPC lackey and a Galaxy Ranger walking into a bar, but he wisely refrains. 

You sigh. “You know I can’t. As fun as chasing pipe dreams with you would be, I’m locked into a contract with the largest corporation in the whole known universe,” you make a point of gesturing to your uniform. “That kind of obligation doesn’t just go away, even if you run from it.”

He snorts, an empathetic little thing. Boothill then pops his hat off and situates it on your head, much to your chagrin. The noise you let out is affronted, the brim of the relic obscuring the better part of your vision. How disgustingly fond of him. “I see where you’re comin’ from, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask you to reconsider. You’d be a much better fit here than there.”

(The unspoken words stick to the roof your mouth. You’d be a much better fit with me than with them.)

Part of you agrees. There’s always been a scale in your head that weighs the fairness of each step you take - measuring the footfalls of others in tandem with yours; you know what it is like to have a strong sense of justice that itches to be upheld. Boothill witnessed this side of you firsthand, when the first words you ever spoke to him were something along the lines of: “Leave the freelancers here alone. Those are the prices, and they’re that steep for a reason. Pay him in full or I’ll make sure you’re in need of a few more repairs.”

You’re also aware of the strange role you play in this. Being on the IPC’s payroll, the contractual thing to do was to report the outlaw to your superiors immediately and enjoy the generous bounty on his head, but you didn’t. You didn’t because when you came face to face with the Boothill, you were ambushed with a childlike wonder you hadn’t felt in years, even if your righteous admonishment didn’t reflect it.

Nowadays, this dingy old bar with no name isn’t the same without his wild tales. Mechanic’s Haven isn’t the same without him at your side as you weave through the clusters of people, him poking fun at your job and your unwillingness to turn him in. When he calls you one of the good ones, you begrudgingly call him a pretty stand-up guy. He gets a kick out of that.

This planetary pitstop is growing more suffocating by the minute. You tip the hat upward to let it sit on your head at a higher angle so you can actually see, narrowed eyes trained on your companion. “You think so? And what makes you so sure, huh?”

He makes a show of flexing his fingers before balling the scrapwork appendages into a fist, taking great care in placing it over where his heart would be, if he was not the thing he is now. The look he fixes you with is complicated, layers of something hidden behind that thick accent and the centers of those crosshairs. “Call it a gut feeling. Y’know, as arbitrary,” he enunciates the word painstakingly, “as the universe is, there’s a reason we met. You got what it takes… and I ain’t afraid to shy away from that truth like you are.”

There it is again. “I’m not afraid. I just happen to think before I act.”

Boothill sighs and swipes your drink that’s been collecting dust with a deft hand, knocking it back. He recovers, gaze raking over your form. It isn’t salacious in the slightest, you think, the way he starts at the tip of his hat’s feather to the silver insignia resting over your heart. Maybe his eyes lingered on your lips too, but that could be you injecting something pointless like hope into this relationship that doesn’t need to be there. That seems more likely. 

“A little too much if I do say so myself,” he guffaws, much to the displeasure of the other patrons. He plucks his hat back off your head with something like amusement, returning it to its rightful place. “You’re as stubborn as a mule, but I know when I’ve been bested. Come on, it’s gettin’ late.”

You two don’t fight over the tab this time around, him sliding a generous amount of credit to the barkeep who just looks slightly bewildered at two of his regulars not verbally fistfighting each other like they normally do. The question in his stare makes your cheeks feel hotter than lava, and you walk with Boothill out of the bar without much fuss, greeting the mild night cold. The silence that you share isn’t uncomfortable, but there’s more to be said. You know he wants nothing more than to hear a yes from you, which sends your mental equilibrium into dizzying contention.

Something is not right, and it is your fault.

With an audible swallow, you fight the butterflies in your stomach and nudge his side. The raucous song of Mechanic’s Haven harmonizes with the thrumming in your ears. “Hey.”

He turns to look at you, whistling a tune you can’t place.

“I’ll give it some more thought. Don’t get your hopes up, because becoming a fugitive by association seems like a lot more trouble than it’s worth,” you cough.

Boothill beams and it just serves to confuse your internal scale even more. One would think you’re suddenly inorganic with how it feels like you’re short-circuiting. Is this an acute onset of cardiac arrest? Or is it something else you’ve been pushing away for months on end?

He nudges you back. “I knew you’d come around! And the first lesson of being a Galaxy Ranger,” he starts, “is to always get your hopes up.”

Yeah… it’s definitely something else entirely. Something that, in all likelihood, is going to get you into massive trouble. You understand the risks that come with fraternizing with an outlaw, have weighed them heavily against your heart, and have reached only one verdict:

You’ll sleep on it.

(You’ll end up following this cowboy no matter what. Even you, deep down, know that he’s been sticking around the area for way too long, like he’s waiting for something or someone. It just so happened to be you. Dang it all to heck and back.)

taglist: @flower-yi, @moineauz, @aphrodict, @nomazee, @singularity-sam, @harque, @thestarswhisper

[teeful-corner]

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ How? .ᐟ. . . (THE FUCK ARE YOU ALIVE!?) Lloyd Garmadon x Reader | Gender Neutral Reader

ੈ˳light Dragons Rising (s1) spoilers, reference to previous seasons; Ghosts of the past come to haunt Lloyd in the future, while somehow also quelling a long-term ache in his heart. ੈ˳tags / warning: implied relationship, death (slightly detailed), dealing of lost and angsty Lloyd, Jay and Cole are still not back :(, not proof read! 4.9k words.

"Hey Lloyd!" Arin called from the library, catching Lloyd's attention sharply as he tried to pass by. The call didn't seem urgent, yet Lloyd wasn't going to do anything of particular urgency either, so he decided to peak inside; he was also wondering why (and how) Arin was in the Library. Not that it had been locked, or anything of the sort, yet because the Library somewhere that Lloyd would have thought Sora would be, not Arin. Hmm, maybe scratch that. Arin would probably be in the Library if it meant he could learn anything about the ninja. Good dedication, he had to admit, albeit it a tad weird. "Yeah Arin?" Lloyd called back when Arin didn't turn his attention over to him, still engrossed in whatever he was looking at. When Lloyd entered the room, walking over to Arin to peer at the book from behind, he would soon notice it was an old photo album. Zane, Pixel, and Nya used to keep it up to date with adventures and general family outings. "Who's that? I don't think I ever remember a ninja wearing purple on your team before." Arin asked, pausing for a minute before he added on quite proudly. "And I know more about you guys than anyone should know!"

The photo that Arin was looking at was a group photo, one in front of the Monastery before one of the countless times it got burnt down. Sometimes Lloyd couldn't help but wonder why they didn't rebuild the Monastery out of something that was inflammable; though he guessed Master Wu always enjoyed coming back to a Monastery that hadn't changed. And Lloyd had to admit, it was also a nice change of pace of the constant changing world outside. It felt like a part of the chaotic world was standing still; even if that feeling was usually a brief one. Yet, in the photo, Arin would point at a Ninja who was piggy-backing off of Lloyd back. Well, maybe not piggy-backing. It was more of, at the time of the photo, they had jumped onto Lloyd's back and he was in the process of falling down. Meanwhile, Kai had burst out laughing and Nya was elbowing him, rather harshly, with a snicker. Though her efforts were rather targeted as seeing the rest of the team was already bursting out in bubbly laughter. Lloyd swore he could hear all their laughter echo in his pointed ears, like the day had just happened. But he knew he was wrong. His eyes became saddened as much as he tried to smile; if not to soothe Arin, then to soothe himself. "Ah, well, that's the Master of Crystals." Lloyd began to explain to Arin, who craned his neck back to look up at Lloyd. "...um, shoot. What can I say about them?" Lloyd tried not to laugh at his own short comings, a habit that he was constantly teased for yet he couldn't help. "The Master of Crystals?" Arin mumbled in echo to Lloyd's statement. His eyes filtered back down to the frozen photo, taking in how blurry everyone looked from moving. He couldn't help but crack a smile. "You two seem close!" "We were!... we really were." Lloyd's voice drew off a bit, his eyes glancing to the side as he still tried to wrack his mind on what to say. He knew if he said too much he would start crying, yet he also knew that Arin would want to know as much as possible. Yet how could he sum up them in words? That task, Lloyd thought, was impossible. "I wish you could have met them," Lloyd would find himself mumbling. "They were amazing, well as great as a person can be." Lloyd started as Arin turned to face him again, photobook still supported in his hands. "They were rather talented, some of their paintings are actually hung around the Monastery - well those that didn't burn in the fires. They were. . . wonderful, incredibly funny at all the wrong times. Fearless, in their own way, and yet reckless at the same time. Master Wu always scolded them for jumping head first into situations instead of using their head. "They were rather passionate as well, yet somehow managed to be a total introvert; they would not speak to the press, nor anyone they were uncomfortable with. Always gave one of the Ninja this stare that screamed 'help me'. Social awkwardness, that's the word for it." Lloyd couldn't help but smile as memories began to surface themselves after being dormant for years. Arin kept his eyes on Lloyd as he spoke, only occasionally glancing down at the picture to look of the Ninja that Lloyd spoke of. Arin couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't heard of them before. "They were also kind... maybe too kind." Lloyd paused in his speech, he had been rambling for a while before his words fell short. So much so Arin had noticed that Kai stopped to listen from the doorway; he seemed curious on the conversation, yet soon realized who Lloyd was talking about and grew the same solemn look. "What happened to them?" Arin was compelled to ask when he noticed all the past-tense that Lloyd was using when describing the Purple Ninja; furthermore the solemn look that the two grew when speaking about them. Yet, Arin wasn't sure if those looks were because the Ninja got lost during the merge. . . or if something before the merge happened.

The silence was more deafening than a rock-n-roll concert. Arin's brain was flooded with reasons for the sudden silence, ranging from the simplest answer (they were lost in the Merge) and the most complex scenario his brain could possibly think of. He would gingerly close the photo album and try and place it back into the shelf, "We don't have to talk about it if you guys don't want to!" He was quick to rush out. He didn't want to cause any sort of discomfort, and the silence suggested he had; that or he had just resurfaced some horrible memories that were being shoved away. Arin didn't hear when Kai had came over to the two, jumping when he felt the sudden warm hand on his shoulder, and gingerly glancing back over to Kai. He seemed in a much better shape about the question than Lloyd was. Arin knew Kai was trying to offer some sort of smile to soften the anxiousness that coursed through Arin - yet his smile wasn't very convincing. "They gave their life to try and protect us, kid." Kai explained, ruffling Arin's hair in another attempt to soften the mood. Yet, somehow Arin felt worse in hearing the news, turning to look over at Lloyd with apologetic eyes. Lloyd wasn't facing them.

Sora was quick to pick up on the more solemn mood that Lloyd seemed to be slumped in, not being as attentive during training or flat out spacing out - which tended to cause multiple accidents. Sora knew she wasn't the only one who caught on either. During her training with Nya, the Water Ninja continued glancing back at Lloyd with frowned eyebrows and eyes swimming in worry. Nevertheless, they both saw how careful Arin was around Lloyd, and Sora half wondered if some sort of stress caused Lloyd to crack and snap; she's heard from a few sources that he could have a temper on him. Yet, Nya pointed out how Kai acted around Lloyd and claimed that something happened that wasn't Lloyd snapping at Arin. Something much bigger. "How can something bigger than Lloyd snapping at Arin make Lloyd so. . ." Sora fished for the right word. Distant didn't feel right. ". . .I don't know! Not-Lloyd and Arin so cautious?" Nya glanced over at Sora, lips pierced in a frown, before her eyes returned over to Lloyd, "I don't know, but something did happen. Not Lloyd snapping happen, yet something. I've only seen Lloyd this despondent since-" And Nya stopped, causing Sora's interest to peak. She waiting for Nya to continue, dutifully noticing the rise of suspicion mixed with realization that swirled in Nya's eyes. When Nya did not continue, though, Sora asked with a cocked eyebrow. "Since some big even that caused Lloyd to lose someone close to him, and he somehow still blames himself over all these years?" It was a rhetorical question, laced with some humorous sarcasm, as Sora went back to her work. She was fixing up her mech, trying to add some enhancements on it so it would run smoother. All the while she was also trying to channel her elemental power without Riyu's help. This allowed Riyu to be able to lay in the sun nearby while intensively watching Sora's work, ready to bounce onto his feet if Sora needed his help. Sora noticed the silence from Nya, yet ignored it at first as she tightened a screw. Yet, after the third, the silence got a tad awkward. Sora glanced back at Nya, who was staring at her with a baffled look; almost as though she had seen a ghost. "What. . .?" Sora glanced behind her, seeing if she had missed something. Yet, she only saw her mech and came to the conclusion that she didn't. "How did you?" Nya's posture straightened as Sora glanced back at her. Now Sora was positively confused, "How did I what?" And Nya would roll her wrists, acting like that had carried the answer to Sora's question. It didn't and Sora was left just puzzled. Yet Nya seemed to get the hint that, maybe, Sora didn't know what she was talking about and happened to just take a rather accurate jab in the dark with her rhetorical question. As for Nya shook her head, clearing the baffled look on her face, before actually waving off Sora's puzzled look this time. "Nothing, nothing. I just thought-" And again, Nya wouldn't finish her sentence as her eyes drifted back to Lloyd. Sora would notice as she rubbed her neck, her eyebrows frowning more so than before, and a frown tugging deeper on her lips.

"I LEFT YOU GUYS ALONE FOR ONLY A SECOND!" Kai's shouting filled the court yard as Sora, Arin, Wyldfyre, and Riyu stood away from the gigantic hole in Monastery wall. Kai had gone inside only a a few minutes before a merge portal had appeared right above the Monetary; which both frightened and confused the four, seeing as Lloyd had used the dragon cores a few weeks ago! "It wasn't us!" Arin started, instantly trusting his hands up in the same way a cop would ask you to. Kai gawked at the four before rushing down the Monastery steps as Zane peaked door behind him, confused. Sora was quick to add to Arin's plea for innocence, yet she was cut off by Wyldfyre. "This was not our faults!" Wyldfyre crossed her arms, "Someone just fell out of the sky, crashed, and broke the wall! It was not me this time." Sora resorted just to agreeing with the two at this point. Kai groaned, and Sora wondered if it was out of laziness (for not wanting to deal with another broken Monastery wall) or out of 'I'm going to be killed for leaving you all alone!'. Either way he rushed past the four and over to the wall, but to Riyu's concerned growls, to check out the damage. He drew his sword just encase. "Fell out of the sky? But Lloyd should have stopped the rifts from reopening." Zane said as he walked over to Arin's left, staring at the rubble with confusion before he began to analyze the rubble as Kai began to carefully climb onto of it. "That's what I thought!" Arin shouted, thrusting his hands out at the crashed wall, "but then someone just- FELL FROM THE SKY!" Sora would add, "While being spit out of a rift. Though it disappeared after they got spat out." "Again, none of this was Wyldfyre's fault." Wyldfyre stated again, nodding in agreement to her own statement as though to add value to it. Nya didn't seem too amused as she rushed out with Lloyd to the hole in the wall and the proclamations of rifts and people falling out of them. Kai swore he was getting a headache from listening to Arin, Sora, and Wyldfyre explaining the situation again; not from their voices, yet from the sheer annoyance that these rifts were causing trouble again. Especially when they had all thought that they were taken care of. And just as he thought life was getting back to normal, or as normal as life after the Merge could get, life slaps him in the face. Again! Thanks life, you're really helpful. Yet Kai's sour thoughts towards life didn't stop him from checking the rubble and coming to a quick stop after he noticed a familiar gi lying on top of the white stone. His body froze at an instant, the grip on the Monetary wall tightened, both out of fear and unknowing how to process who laid in front of him. "Lloyd-" Kai called into the flurry of voices that tried to figure out what had happened. Gaining no response from Lloyd at first, Kai tried calling him again despite not being able to tear his eyes away from the person. Finally, "LLOYD!" "What?!" Lloyd shouted back to Kai, turning to face the Fire Master both confused and more aggressive than he intended. Though his stance quickly softened as he noticed Kai's face: pale white. A beat. Lloyd gingerly, yet with as much confidence as he could muster, walked over to Kai and where he stood on the rubble. As he approached behind him, Lloyd called out again: "Kai?" Yet the only response he gained was a shaking hand that Kai pointed towards the rubble. Concerned, and with adrenaline now rushing through his blood like crazy (the held silence from the others not helping his nerves at all) Lloyd climbed upon the rubble to come face to face with a haunting face. In an instant, it felt like Lloyd's world was turned upside down as his eyes flickered over every detail of the familiar body that was no longer mangled or torn, no longer gruesomely defiled in the most repulsive way.

Lloyd could still remember how their limbs hung on like strings, or were disconnected entirely. How their blood stained the concrete road blacker than it had been, how the rotting smell filled the streets before the war had ended and they were safe to burry their friend. The details rushed back to Lloyd quicker than he wanted; more graphic than Lloyd remembered it being. The shock, horror, terror, slight disgust all made him recoil away from the stones wall; it forced him to completely turn his back and cup his mouth in fear of puking. His eyes were wide, his pupils shrunk as he tried to get those horrible, god awful memories out of his mind. The smell he remembered that coated the streets hit him, causing him to hunch over. He knew this was all in his head, old trauma resurfacing to bite him in the ass for never fully recovering from that scene. He could hear the voices, panicked and just as disturbed (mostly from the original Ninja) when they realized who laid in the rubble. Lloyd distantly felt a hand on his back, but his mind swirled and circled as he felt like his gut had been punched. "What's going on? What's happening?" Arin panic sounded so far to Lloyd, and Arin seemed further when Lloyd turned to look at his student. Arin grew fearful as he saw the detailed horror on Lloyd. Nya was trying to calm the situation. Zane was examining the body, trying to make sense of what was happening. He first ran a diagnostic and the only words Lloyd picked up were "Alive", "Breathing", "Vital". They weren't mangled and torn and tattered, they breathed and were whole and alive. That was a wild concept to Lloyd, caused his knees to buckle. His hand slid down roughly on the Monastery wall as he crashed to his knees. He was trying to keep the tears from spilling over, hiccupping escaping his throat as he choked back sobs. "Can someone explain to use what's going on?!" Sora shouted as Lloyd balled his hand into a fist against the Monastery. Sora sounded distressed, Lloyd couldn't blame her. He couldn't blame any of the new students for how they felt at the moment, after all this was slowly turning into a shitshow of emotions. Lloyd could feel Nya trying to snap him out of his engrossing thoughts yet the felt all consuming; It's like Lloyd felt everything all at once and yet, somehow, nothing at the same time. He blanked out at the explanation the students were given. He blanked out for a while. He wasn't sure when someone had managed to move him, yet he now sat in the living room of the Monastery with his fists clenching at his pants and this sickening feeling still in his stomach. How can you possibly explain that the fact that someone who had died, gave their life, to protect something greater than them (yet somehow also meaningless after they gave their life) to students who hadn't heard of them before? Lloyd moved his hand to cup his mouth, trying to control his breathing as his eyes zooned out on the floor. His knee bounced now without the weight of his arm. He could hear Nya next to him trying to explain the seemingly impossible to the three students: "A long. . . long, time ago, during one of our last fights with Lord Garmadon, after Harumi had resurrected him, we were almost cornered." Nya explained, "Well, we had been running from their joint forces for a while, taking refugee in abandoned building of Ninjago, yet this time we had no were to truly run. I suggested we split up, confuse Lord Garmadon and Harumi and Lloyd said we needed to all stick together." Nya would pause, allowing Lloyd to notice how she had rambled a little and how Kai had to place a hand on her shoulder. There was a silent nod that was shared from Kai to Nya, something to reassure her. Nya took a deep breath before she continued, "To make a long story short, the Ninja you saw crashing through the wall was the Purple Ninja, Master of Crystals. . . (y/n). "They had, despite much protest, said they would ward off Garmadon and give us a chance to escape; promised that they would meet us back at the base-"

"Garmadon tore her to pieces." The growl in Lloyd's voice didn't go unmissed as he interrupted Nya. His hand pulled down from his mouth, pulling at his skin a little before he rubbed his neck. "Left her to die rotting on the street, limbs hanging on by threads. . ." His statement was followed by silence, stunned if not horrified silence. Lloyd didn't look up at the three students, who sat or stood nearby. He couldn't bare to catch their eyes, to catch the horror that their mind was crafting after the vague description that Lloyd left hanging in the air. The silence was thick, thicker than Lloyd would have wished. "But... but they seemed.. fine?" Arin choked out, trying to get some sort of positivity back into the room; or at least to get some people to start looking on the bright side. Despite the gruesome topic. "We don't know how." Nya answered, shaking her head. "The best explanation would be that she was fixed when their soul moved on to the Departed Realm? But we haven't seen much trace of that realm in the merged... nor have we seen many traces of other realms for souls, like the Cursed Realm." "Yes, and it is rather odd that she would appear now." Zane walked into the room, cleaning his hands with a cleaning cloth. Attention snapped to him in a unsettling way (from his standards) yet he guessed it was just worry for the Ninja he had just been taking care of. "Especially after Lloyd stopped the MergeQuake. We can only hope that means that the Realms are settling into their new place, and returning people to where they're meant to be. Yet, that would not explain how (y/n) managed to resurrect." Zane noticed how Lloyd didn't look in his direction when he spoke, yet he couldn't blame Lloyd, not after all they've been through. Not after all he's been through; Especially since he was the closest to (y/n). "Well, the only thing we can do now is just wait for them to wake up, yeah?" Sora pipped up after a moment and she would receive a nod from Zane. She made sure to think on her next words, as well as her tone, before she crossed her arms, "So then let's go do something! I'm sure your friend wouldn't want to wake up after being dead for so long to see you all depressed!" "OH!" Arin pipped up instantly. "I have just the thing!"

The smell of some sort of bread was the first thing that came to mind, the second would be the warmth of a weighted cover that was tossed up to my shoulders, and the third would be the softness of the pillow at my head and the mattress under me. The warm and softness coaxed me back to sleep, yet my mind made it feel as though I had been asleep for decades. Decades. A soft murmur escaped my mouth as I rolled onto my side, my brain slowly registering the sounds that echoed from where I laid. The sound of birds nearby, the clattering of pans, the sound of laughter and chatter and talking; Feet on wood floors and sliding doors. The smell of different ingredients mixing with the smell of baking bread or maybe pie. It was like the sweetest dream. I grabbed at my covers and turned again on the mattress below me. It was so tempting to go back to sleep, to let the soft, warm sounds bring me to a dream where I was with everyone again. That was until I had fully registered what was happening. With a quick motion I shoved the blanket off of me, sitting up, and looking around feverously. I stared at the room in front of me, all too familiar and all too haunting. My hands had a mind of their own at they first touched the sheets under me, then my cheeks and face, and slowly my whole body as I began to register something: I was. . . alive? How was this possible? Hadn't I died, oh I don't remember, a few years ago? This shouldn't be possible, it shouldn't-. Thoughts circled around my mind like a storm that could not be tamed, panicked and frightened, terrified and horrific. I tried to remember what I could not, at the time, and my only last thoughts were those of the moments before I had died. The feeling of my bones, ligaments, tendons, muscles all pulling apart are screams ripped out of my throat in a piercing way that still haunting me. The tears that streamed down my cheeks, the pain; oh the unbearable pain, all suffered to make sure that everyone else could hopefully see another day. So Lloyd could see another day. I raised my hand, feeling my damp cheeks. I didn't even realize I had been crying, and I frowned my eyebrows as I couldn't understand whether it was because the memories or the confusion. And I couldn't help but sit on the bed, my bed, as I reeled in all that was happening. I was alive, I was back. Yet was everyone else here? What had happened after I died? Did the resistance work? Is Ninjago City back to how it had been? Is- The thoughts brought me onto my feet and tugged at my gi, taking in a shaky breath as I felt it. My feet guided themselves, my mind in a foggy trance, to the door and out the room, down the hallway of the Monetary while following the sounds of voices and laughter. I was led to the kitchen, were I would stand at the door and look in at the scene: Lloyd, Nya, Zane, Kai, and four people I didn't know; three kids, one frog guy. They all were making Pies, from what I could tell, and they were laughing and smiling and joking. Kai had flicked flour at Nya, who sneezed and glared playfully at Kai. Zane was putting pies into the stove, helping as the kid with pink hair read a book out loud. Lloyd with a kid in orange stood at a counter nearby, seemingly racing to make the pie that the pink-haired kid was shouting. The frog guy stood nearby. I didn't noticed as tears flowed back down my cheeks as I stared at the scene, my mouth slightly agape. Everything seemed so peaceful, so right. I could only guess Jay was in his room changing because there was a massive pile of flour on the floor and on Kai and Lloyd. Cole probably in the bathroom from having eaten too many of the sweets, with all the empty pie tins that laid on the table. Nya was the first to notice me, she was about to throw water at Kai yet paused as her eyes caught a glimpse of me and looked back. I could see the way her eyes widened, realization and relief and overwhelm wash her. All I could give her in response was a small smile, a weak bit of laughter.

There was a brief moment were we just stared at each other, and the next thing I knew Nya had rushed away from her spot and enveloped me in a hug. And I couldn't help but hug her back, feeling tears form in her eyes as I choked on mine. "Oh fuck-" Kai mumbled, and I could only guess he had realized why Nya had not shot him with water and instead rushed towards the door. The room grew quiet, confused then realized, as attention darted over to Nya and I. Lloyd's eyes. Oh, his eyes. Despite the pain that rang through them, they way they scrunched and drew out lines on his face. Despite the way he could only meet my eyes for a few seconds at a time. Despite the way they reddened, looking like he was about to cry. His eyes were still lovely as ever. I tightened my grip on Nya, "What did I miss?" I mumbled softly to the shocked silence. I let out something akin to a airy-chuckle. "Most recently, the ending of MerqeQuakes which occurred when all the realms were merged together into one big realm; before that,-" Zane began to respond yet he stopped himself. He couldn't help but smile, and I swear he was about to cry (if he could). "Actually, that does not matter. What matters now is that you're back... and awake." Nya slowly let go of me, I could feel as she tried to break from my grip and I slowly loosened her. She was smiling, yet she was crying; choking on her own tears. I couldn't help but give Nya one last reassuring squeeze before I slowly moved around her and towards Lloyd. The silence seemed thicker as I reached Lloyd, his hesitance more noticeable as his brows thickened and frowned. A thin frown spread across my lips, I knew what this was about (that much didn't take me being alive for years to know). "Lloyd I-" My voice felt weak as I started, reaching out to Lloyd with my hand yet stopping. I balled it into a fist, seeing Lloyd turn away from me, and slowly dropped my arm back to my side. What words could you say to someone who you betrayed? Nevertheless someone like Lloyd, who's been through so much and the last thing he wanted (I knew) was to see my body on the concrete floor. Blood staining the road. Limps ripped apart by his father. I knew that so much that my last thoughts had been about Lloyd had how he would react when he saw the scene. My mouth twitched as I stood there, next to Lloyd, in silence as my head fell. Sorry was not good enough, it would never be good enough; no apology would be good enough to start trying to make up for the time I had missed. For lying, as I knew that I wouldn't meet them back up. For everything. For leaving him alone and making him bear the world without me for so many years. For not being there for him for whatever he had to go through while I was gone; it had aged him so, I could see the aged pain in his eyes. It would never feel enough. "I'm-" And yet, somehow Lloyd turned to face me. And somehow, he came to embrace me, hugging me tightly as though he were afraid I would die again. And somehow, he managed to be near me after everything I had done. And somehow, I had a feeling, we would slowly get through this. Slowly, I wrapped Lloyd in a hug and gripped onto his gi, just as tightly. I buried my face into his shoulder as he did the same and we just stood there and hugged tightly. And everything felt right, even if it was for a brief moment. Everything felt like it had and how it should here in the Monastery, with Lloyd: It felt like home.

©this work belongs to teeful-corner.ᐟ please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

[muxshwriting]

my good luck charm

Carlos Sainz x Indian!reader

summary: everyone is looking at Carlos at his home gp to win. but Carlos isn't bothered by the pressure, he's too busy looking at you || word count: 1092 || masterlist

REQUESTED by @malvikareader : Carlos and Indian reader meet at Spanish gp and he is mesmerised by her

It was utter chaos. Everyone was looking at Carlos as the homeboy hero of the Spanish GP, saddled with the expectation to win his home race. He had been dragged from interview to interview by his PR manager but all he wanted to do was have a moment to himself to breathe and relax before the race. Yes, he was driving a Ferrari, one of the top performing teams of the season and Carlos had been one of the few drivers to win a race so far.

You, on the other hand, were having the time of your life in the F1 paddock. You'd been invited by your agency as a PR stunt for your new modelling campaigns. You were infamous, one of the most successful models of your time. Not only were you stunning, you cared about real issues. You were trying to work towards a brighter future, focusing on issues such as climate change and poverty across the world.

Carlos was stuck at yet another interview where they asked him the same questions as the others. He replied with the same generic answer he'd given everyone else, casting his mind away from the interview and subtly glancing around the rest of the paddock to see what was going on. It just so happened to be when you were walking past the interview pen, locking eyes with Carlos.

Whatever answer he was giving began to come out stuttered as Carlos stumbled over his words, utterly captivated by you. The world seemed to slow as you waved at some of the fans scattered next to the track, laughing at something one had said. God, why did you have to laugh like that? Carlos could barely breathe. He wanted to be the one to make you laugh like that, no one else, just him.

"Carlos? Hello?" The interviewer was trying to get his attention and Carlos begrudgingly looked away from you.

"Sorry." He quickly apologised. "Can you repeat the question?"

★--~-~--★

Ever since catching your eye, Carlos had been searching for you in the paddock. No one seemed to know who he was referring to (given the sheer number of celebrities on the grid) but it didn't dissuade Carlos. The race was a couple hours away as Carlos weaved his way through the garage before being stopped by his race engineer.

"Carlos! I think media is looking for you to meet some ambassadors for sponsors and stuff." He explained, pointing to the office area.

"This can't wait until after the race?" He was distracted enough already, he didn't need to add simpering up to sponsors to his list.

His engineer simply shrugged. "Sorry man."

Carlos sighed, takes a deep breath and then makes his way to the media manager's office. To his surprise and shock (and delight) he sees you quietly talking to someone else. Also to his delight, he sees you wearing a ferrari jacket you didn't have earlier, a jacket that had his driver number plastered on the back.

"Hello." Carlos internally kicks himself for just saying 'hello' to the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

You're first to introduce yourself. "Hi! I'm Y/N, an ambassador for Ray Ban. It's really nice to meet you considering I watch you race almost every week-" You seemed to cut yourself off from rambling on after meeting him.

Carlos only grows more lovestruck. "No problem. You'll be watching today?" He assumed you were but wants any excuse to keep talking to you.

"Yeah." You offer him a small smile. "You'll do great, I'm sure."

"You think?"

Your smile only grows. "Oh yeah. I'll be cheering you on."

"I'll make sure to win for you." He sends you a wink that has your cheeks warming at an alarming rate.

He's pulled into conversation with a few other ambassadors but continues to catch your eye from across the room. Eventually, he's pulled back down to the garage floor to get ready for the race and has to say goodbye to you.

You go for a hug that Carlos greatly welcomes. "Good luck." You whisper to him. "You'll do great."

You end up in the back of the Ferrari hospitality, anxiously watching the race. Carlos started on the second row, working his way through the front runners and navigating a risky pit stop strategy by his team. He had taken the lead of the race six laps from the end, holding off Verstappen until the end of the race and finishing in first place.

The garage went nuts, mechanics jumping up and down with glee. You could hear the crowds cheering for their driver's win at his home circuit and joined in with the celebrations. You find yourself swept with the crowd as they rush down to the podium area to watch the cars arriving. Carlos jumped straight out of the car and into the arms of his team. As the adrenaline began to wear off, he caught sight of you standing by the side of his engineers.

Your face held a look of awe as he walked closer. There were a few stray tears (of joy) in your eyes as you hugged his tightly. "I told you you'd do great."

"All for you." He confessed, pulling away and seeing Charles behind him with a smug grin on his face. "I've got to go but- can I see you later?"

"I'll come to your driver's room, yeah?"

Carlos' smile widened. "I'll be waiting for you."

You watched in admiration as Carlos stood in the Spanish sunshine, soaking in his victory. He couldn't stop his eyes from drifting to you, ignoring the cameras that were watching him and watching where his eyeline kept straying to. Both of you were oblivious to the eyes watching you, unable to look away.

You both met just outside Carlos' room, embracing properly. He pulled you into the room, away from prying eyes and you took your chance, diving forward and pressing your lips against his. Carlos froze beneath your touch, making you regret your actions and begin to pull away to give him space.

Carlos did the opposite, he deepened the kiss, reaching up to hold your face in his hands and pull you even closer. The two of you separated, sharing the same breath in the small room.

"Can I come watch you again?" You whisper into the air, suggesting a future.

Carlos met your eyes with a solemn look. "I wouldn't want anything else. Besides," He joked. "You're my good luck charm now, you can't leave me with bad luck."

[yoitsjay]

I got u bestie, some awkward lover fluff coming right up.

Something New

Pairings: Tech x fem jedi! Reader

Summary: you and Tech have feelings for each other, though as a jedi romantic attachments have always been forbidden to you, and as a clone Tech wasn't allowed, nor did he ever find someone he was so drawn too. But now that the jedi order and the republic is gone, you are free to explore... as inexperienced as you both are.

Warnings: cute fluff, awkward kissing, like two teenagers who've never been romantically involved before. Cute date, we love Tech.

Word count: 1,297

A/n: I won't do smut unless specifically requested, and I do take smut requests for future reference.

Maybe it was the fact that Jedi weren’t allowed to love someone, or weren’t really allowed to have many friends. Yet despite that there always seemed to be something that a jedi was attached to, whether it be a memento from their homeworld, or from a citizen off world or even on Coruscant. Some jedi were very traditional, and you knew this, but you also knew plenty of jedi who held attachments to various people, and yet, they could let that person go when the time called to let them go. If that makes any sense.

You were not one of those jedi.

It was something that the council tried to remove from your mind, the inability to let personal possessions go, but every attempt they did make was always unsuccessful.

You were defective, but you were an extraordinary warrior with skill that they could not replace, so the only thing they could really do to get rid of you, but also keep you around was to pair you with a Commando clone unit that was also defective.

That was the council’s biggest mistake.

Because now here you were, head over heels in love, or at least what you assumed was love, since you had never really felt it before- with one of the defective clones from your unit.

No it was not Hunter, as much as you cared for him, and thought he was handsome, he hadn’t swayed your affections quite like Tech has.

You had been fighting alongside the bad batch basically since they were first put into action, which has been a couple years now, but after Kaller, after the clone wars had ended, you could feel things change.

And you started noticing more things, less oblivious things than what you had noticed before, and they were all coming from Tech.

At first there were such miniscule things that you almost didn’t catch, like the way his gloved fingers would brush against yours as you handed him a tool, or the way he had started leaning over you slightly whenever you were piloting the marauder.

But then there were the more obvious things, like him finding wild (and safe) flowers from different planets you traveled to, and he'd always give to you, every single time without fail. The flowers then turned to small gifts, and inanimate objects or pieces of jewelry. He even gave you new beads to decorate your lightsaber or hair with.

You asked him why he was giving you all these things, and asked if he wanted something in return or if he needed a favor, any way you could repay him for being so kind. All he did was brush it off and say it was nothing.

So you asked the next best person.

Hunter.

-

“He’s- he’s what?” Hunter asked, having nearly spit out his caf the minute you approached and told Hunter what Tech was doing. You sighed, and repeated yourself, looking at Hunter expectantly.

Hunter cleared his throat and glanced around before he set his caf down on top of gonky, who just happened to be nearby, and Hunter was practically grinning.

“What is it Hunter? Spit it out.” You ordered, though there was no real authority on your voice, sure you used to be their general, but Hunter was always the leader.

Hunter let out a soft chuckle before he stood up from his seat, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Tech is- well… he’s courting you… It's a mandalorian tradition, and he thought it was the best way to try and get his affections for you out in the air.” Hunter explained, and you press your lips into a thin line and look away for a moment, as if thinking.

Then you can’t stop the smile from growing on your face and you practically race off the Marauder to where Tech is working on repairs. When he hears your footsteps he looks up, only to grunt as he is tackled to the ground, his tools now dropped as he lays on his back, staring up at a grinning idiot…

His grinning idiot.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Tech asked immediately, rather than letting any other thought cross his mind, especially the one where your perched on top of him and he could easily just-

No- bad Tech, don’t think like that-

“I love you too!” You blurt out loudly before you can stop yourself, and Tech’s eyes narrow in confusion, before widening as he realizes what you were talking about, which means you found out about his courting methods…

“I’m sorry I should have told you from the beginning that I was harboring- wait what?”

You loo0ked down at Tech, tilting your head slightly as you chuckled, moving off of him and onto the ground in front of him, pulling him up so he was sitting in front of you.

“I said I like you too, Tech, i’ve- god i’ve been feeling- i don’t even know what- for you- since my first month working with you in the clone wars- i just… well- i never said anything because it was forbidden…” You trailed off, looking away from Tech, noticing that he was just staring at you.

A few beats of silence and you look up at Tech again.

“Please say something Tech, i-”

Before you could say another word, tech is the one that lunges for you next, his gloved hands grasping at the meat of your thighs as he tugs you close to him. You hadn’t noticed, but Tech had taken off his helmet and set it neatly on the ground beside him, so the minute his lips were on yours, you jumped.

He went to pull away, to apologize but you didn’t let him, grasping his face in your hands, tugging him right back into you.

The kiss was very awkward, very inexperienced, and was a clash of tongue and teeth, which you assumed couldn’t be right… Despite that, as you pulled away from Tech, you both were quite breathless, unwilling to remove your hands from each other.

Your soft laugh was the first to break the silence, followed by his amused chuckles, which then lead to you bursting out in laughter as you pressed your face into tech’s chestplate.

“God that was horrible.” You muttered, looking up at Tech, who was smiling slightly. “Indeed, it seems like we are both inexperienced when it comes to this… I do not like that feeling.” He mused, and another chuckle left your lips, grabbing his hand as he stood up and offered it to you.

You got up to your feet with Tech’s help, and now had your arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders, feeling his hands on the dip in your waist.

“We can always practice, do some research.” You suggested softly, tilting your head as you stared up at him, seeing that little smile return to his lips.

“That is an excellent idea, Y/n, i would like to begin immediately.” he stated, and with that he was dragging you into the Marauder and to his bunk, where he promptly removed his armor as you climbed up the ladder, chasing after you as soon as his armor was off.

He closed the curtain, and the little bunk area lit up under a soft orange glow.

Your giggles could be heard throughout the Marauder, which was quite annoying for Hunter after a while so he ended up leaving… not before he shouted out a quick goodbye.

“Where a condom!” Hunter called out as he exited the ramp which promptly closed behind him as he exited the Marauder…

And that only made your and Tech’s laughter worse…

Though now you had the whole Marauder to test out yours and Tech’s experiments…

You couldn’t wait to start.

➺

Tech tag:

@chibai06 @thebadbatchfan

Tbb:

@only-my-unexistent-fiances

All:

@moomoog017

[vivicts]

JJK men

how they show their love for you

characters: Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji

A/N: I don't know if anyone has ever done something like this but I wanted to share my opinions.

A/N: I was going to do Sukuna too, but got lazy. I might put him in a future part two if you like it.

Gojo Satoru: Gifts

This man almost has a kink for giving you gifts. He sees these gifts as a way to make up for his time away since, being the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, he doesn't have much time at home with you.

He can't see a single thing that reminds him of you that he will immediately buy it. Same thing goes for you. If you touch anything in a store, it will immediately be yours.

He loves seeing you using the things he gives you and he loves seeing you happy with them. Even if you ask him to stop spending so much on you, he'll just shrug his shoulders and say the same thing every time:

"Anything for you is not an expense, baby, it's an investment"

Nanami Kento: Acts of service

Nanami is someone used to going through situations where he has to do something for someone. So basically, doing something for you is like an obligation for him, at the same time it's something he's used to and doesn't mind.

The moment he gets home, no matter how tired he may be, he will always do everything you ask, even what you don't ask for. Even if you insist that you can do things yourself or at least help him, he will make sure to do it for you.

He is also someone who is almost always busy at work, so letting you take a break from housework and other general chores is a way of making it up to you for him.

"No no, stay there dear, it's my turn now"

Geto Suguru: Words of Affirmation

If there's one thing that Geto makes a point of making clear, it's how special and different you are to him for being by his side. And there's nothing shameful for him to do that, you stood by him no matter what, and he really loves you for that.

There is nothing in this world that can make you blush more in this world than him praising you. The sweet words that this man keeps saying when referring to you nullify any and all suspicions you may have about whether he really loves you.

Deep down he doesn't think he'll really be able to express all the gratitude and love he feels for you, but he'll always try.

"Thank you, my love, I couldn't do this without you."

Toji Fushiguro: Physical Touch

It may not looks like, but Toji really has a thing for physical touch, like... really. He not always be by your side because of the type of work he has, but in the moment he gets by your side... good luck getting him away

He uses the size difference between you a lot to his advantage. He just loves the way he can just throw you over his shoulder and do whatever he wants with you.

Of course, he won't force you to cling to him forever if you get uncomfortable, but please give this man affection and attention, even if it's with minimal physical contact.

"Come on, just a few more minutes. Argh, fine.. but what do I get now?"

[lightlycareless]

Omg the toji threesome fic is just...wtf there's no other worlds to describe it it's wtf in a good way omg what if she gets pregnant? What if it's not naoya's?! WHAT WILL TOJI FJCKING SAY?! GET RID OF IT?! GIVE BIRTH AND GIVE IT TO ME?! WHAT WILL NAOYA DO?! OMGGGGG PLEASE MAKE A FIC ABOUT THE AFTERMATH AHHHH!!!!! if you want baby no pressure <3

Hello! :>

I don't know if you saw my sneak peak, but I ended up writing a sequel to this heheh I'm so glad you liked it!!

Ngl, I wasn't planning on writing more of it, but then I saw this ask and... you know, I just had to do it to 'em.

Anyways I won't say anything more; except for the warnings: mentions of infidelity. mentions of smut (the word cunt is used) angst I believe. it's sad at the end, or I try to make it sad lol. Mentions of pregnancy. Also, I am no expert relating to pregnancy matters so take it with a grain of salt and lots of plot convenience 😅.

Happy reading!!

sequel to this.

Toji’s not to disclose if you or Naoya came back for a repeat of that night’s succession, though he will admit your pregnancy was not surprising.

It’s not like he could run away from it either, for as soon as news graced the elders’ ears, it’s all the estate spoke of.

From enthusiasm to welcome the next generation of Zen’in sorcerers, to the ever-growing hope of recovering their prized cursed technique, which has been absent for hundreds of years…

Expectations for this child were at an all-time high.

But to you and Naoya, all you could care about was the blessing this baby represented.

A family.

The pinnacle of all their yearnings, the fruits of their never-ending efforts finally appearing as the positive pregnancy test you took one morning after feeling particularly nauseous…

Or Toji’s, perhaps.

Toji initially didn’t think much of the “shocking” announcement. Not even after his behavior that night—they were just heat of the moment things, nothing that he meant nor really cared about, simply said to get a rise out of Naoya; and oh, was his reaction satisfying.

In other words, he really, genuinely, couldn’t care less about what the wimpy heir and his ditzy wife were to face from that point forward.

But when their behavior towards him, the engaging conversations, invitations to drink tea, amongst other activities, drastically ceased, to the point of them turning on their heel and going the opposite way when bumping into him…

It didn’t take long for the pieces to fall into place, and when the puzzle was complete, Toji could only laugh.

It’s like an open secret, albeit solely for those involved.

The baby inside you wasn’t Naoya’s.

It was Toji’s.

And this filled him with morbid fascination no other high had been able to provide.

To know that the baby everyone was praising as the future of the Zen’in, a promising sorcerer, as expected of the heir, was the ultimate irony, the exact anti-thesis of all they once declared of Toji.

He was very tempted to let everyone know.

Proudly announce the truth to the world, screaming to the top of his lungs that that baby isn’t Naoya’s, it’s mine.

The scandal this revelation would bring was nothing short of earth-shattering, and more likely than not, the elders wouldn’t even know where to start from. Although your infidelity could be a good reference.

Followed by the fact that no matter how much they try to get rid of him, he’ll always find a way to haunt them—like a ghost shackled to the estate walls, Toji would always remain in the back of their minds, unsettling them whenever they did as much as breathe.

Although for this to work, he’d have to wait until the child was born, officiated as son of Naoya, before he could do any true damage.

To see the kind of face the Zen’in would make upon finding out the truth… is one that makes his prolonged stay all but worthwhile.

As well as knowing your reaction towards the whole ordeal—if you’ve even been able to sleep knowing well that your life was on the line by carrying such a frightening secret in your womb.

Considering the way you frequently sought him out during those lonely nights where your husband would be away for long periods of time, this probably didn’t perturb you as much. After all, what did you expect after receiving his seed as constantly as you did? That nothing would happen? No consequences to be suffered?

You were many things, but he never thought you as delusional.

Or perhaps, you were hoping for this. To have his child. He’d come to believe so after the tight way your cunt squeezed him.

Well, that would only make him the delusional one.

Either way, he suspects that while your secret might’ve prickled the back of your mind from time to time, it didn’t bother you as much as he hoped—not with the way your staff coddled your every move, how the clan would gift you expensive items to celebrate the future head of the clan, per tradition, or how happy you appeared to be with your growing bump, gently caressing it and beaming while confessing oh how much you longed to finally hold your baby.

It irked him.

To see that even through this deceit, you were still blissful.

It was undeserving. Wrong.

At least to the man who has been sentenced to nothing but pain and disgrace since the moment he was born, that’s how it was.

Because it was impossible for him to grasp the innocence of others—To accept that some were just simply… with better luck. Free to live as they desired, and without having to pay for the prejudice of others.

Toji, now more than ever, felt that he was being used. Plucked from his misery, toyed with, and discarded once dried out of his benefits.

Thus, his motivation to ruin your and Naoya’s happiness became as palpable as ever—hastily making his way towards you once catching you by one of the many gardens, intending to remind you of the power he had, how easily it would be for him to plant the seed of doubt amongst the staff, let it flourish up to the elders, and ruin your and Naoya’s life forever.

Unless your anguished face was to stop him.

It was abrupt, happening in less than a second, yet enough for him to understand it wasn’t because you were upset by some redundant folly, but rather, of pain.

With one of your hands rushing up to your stomach while the other to your back, it was as if the weight of your baby had suddenly become too much to handle; you’d then anxiously looked for a chance to sit down, frowning when realizing the only option was the strenuous engawa in front of you…

Before freezing, face quickly void of any color, when seeing Toji abruptly standing by your side, with mysterious intentions you were not interested in finding out.

“Toji, you— You breathe as you do your best to walk away from him, just for him to keep up with you. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Gee, that’s the thanks I get for getting you pregnant?” he sneers. “Never thought you to be as prejudiced as the rest—”

“What—what is wrong with you?!” you condemned, snatching your arm from his grasp. “How dare you?! Don’t you ever say something like ever aga—ah!”

“Y/N.” Toji’s eyes widen when he sees you lean forward, wrapping your arms around your stomach as you hiss and cuss, while tightly closing your eyes in what he recognizes strenuous pain. “What is happening?! Are you—”

No.

Could it be? And so soon?!

”Are you having the baby??”

“What? N—No—!” you whimper, squeezing tears out of the corners of your eyes. “It’s just—it’s just this pain that comes and goes sometimes—I—I need to sit down—”

Toji doesn’t hesitate to help you onto the engawa by firmly, yet gently, holding your arms and lowering you down to the wooden floor. You didn’t plan on accepting his help at first, but when a sharp pain reminds you that you couldn’t really pick and choose in this situation, you end up agreeing.

Once seated, Toji concludes this was much better off in the hands of a staff member, or even a doctor if he could somehow manage to do that, so he quickly stands up and turns towards the hallways—but the moment you see him take as little as a step away from you, your hands fly to grab his sleeve, stopping him on his tracks before looking up to him with the most pitiable look on your face.

“Stay.” You breathe, swallowing. “Please.”

And whether because of your pleading, teary eyes, or because it had been so long since he’d basked in your warm company, Toji obliges, soon taking the spot besides you as your hand now securely gripped his, with such an unprecedented force that has him both amused and concerned by your pain, while offering whatever little comfort he could with his touch.

It’s in these quiet yet tense moments that he finally gets to see the certainty of your situation.

While you expected to happily enjoy your future life as a mother, relish on the compliments of those around you, the praises of your in-laws, and the company and support of your husband…

Reality had been nothing short of deviant from your dreams—starting from the high risk your pregnancy was labeled as…

To the haunting consequences of your past actions.

“Are you sure this is normal?” Toji asks, seeing that your pain was not subsiding. “I think you need help—”

“No shit, Toji!” you gasp, he raises an eyebrow. “I mean—I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize, princess. It’s nothing I’m not used to already.”

“… is that—is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No. Not really.” He snickers, a smile that’s quickly wiped off his mouth when hearing you hiss. “But I’ve seen it work with others, so why not give it a shot?”

“I’m not—I’m not going to do that.” You huffed. “I—I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“But you’d ignore me?”

“If you’re here to scold me, this is not the right time.” You hiss again, feeling a sharp pain attack your lower back, making you press your lips and whine.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do something? Bring you something to drink—or… something?”

“Yes, but—but it’s not like you can help me anyways.”  You confess, he frowns.

“What? Why? How hard is it to get something for you to take?” he scoffs.

“They don’t want me to—they say—they say it might hurt the baby.”

Toji blinks.

“And so, what? They’re just going to leave you to suffer?”

You don’t respond.

He sighs. Toji should’ve known better.

“Where does it hurt?”

“My—my back and stomach” you breathe, another sharp bolt of pain on those places precisely, making you hold his hand even tighter, once again, he’s surprised someone like you could even dent his skin. “And no matter what I do—nothing helps! Not even that stupid warm bath, or the massages Junko-san told me to do—”

The desperation for failed solutions after failed solutions is clear in your voice, a consistency that effectively shows your growing frustration at being reminded again and again that not even when carrying the future of the Zen’in, are you respected as a person.

It’s always the needs of others first, the beliefs of the rest—only this time around it was your baby, although through the twisted words of your in-laws.

“I’m so, so tired of feeling exhausted, I just want to—”

“Let me try.” Toji interrupts, offering a solution that initially catches you by surprise, a part of your mind urging you to decline and get away as far as possible, the dangers his closeness could give are far bigger than you’re willing to put up with—

Yet, another part of you is telling you to allow him, if only for a moment, to help you.

To enjoy his company, something you’ve been unjustifiably deprived of.

Something you should’ve had now more than ever due to your pregnancy, but for many painful reasons, you didn’t.

But just because you wanted it, does it mean you should?

…

…

…

It wouldn’t be the first time you succumbed to these desires.

Thus, the decision is made when freeing his hand and gesturing to him to proceed with a nod. Toji then places his hands over your shoulders, firmly pressing his fingertips against them before beginning to ease the tensions and stresses away from your body through circular motions.

Had you known of Toji’s talent, you would’ve asked for massages more than anything else from him—for the way he carefully worked over your knots, starting from your neck and shoulders, down to your spine and to your lower back… it was simply amazing.

And for a moment, it’s like you’ve forgotten the strained relationship you had with him in favor of wondering where he even learned to do something like that.

“Oh my god—” you sigh, shoulders relaxing as Toji continues to massage you. “This is so much better…”

“Well, know you can always count on me to make you feel better, right?” He teases, your satisfaction dwindles for a moment with a frown. “It’s just a joke.”

“It’s not the time for jokes.” You respond. “but at least my back doesn’t hurt anymore….”

“That’s the reason why you’re so tense— it’s because you can’t take a joke.” Toji adds, as if he were finding out how much he could push it before you snapped. So much for his concern… or perhaps it was his way to lighten up your mood?

“Yeah, how horrible of me—it’s not like I’m carrying a baby.” You chided, and once again, his arrogance is smacked out of him.

After a moment of silence and brief repentance, Toji speaks.

“How did Naoya take it?”

“…I don’t want to talk about that.”

It went bad. If not horrible.

Naoya was excited at first, over the moon to know that he was finally to be a father after all their attempts.

But when doubts began to plague his mind, eventually leading to the DNA test… his absence was the clear indication of his feelings.

However,  if his reaction hurt you and your marriage so badly, then why did you keep the—

“I always wanted a family.” You say, succumbing to one of the many questions you rightfully assumed Toji to have. “From the moment I married, no, even before that, I knew that’s what I wanted in life. To have a little girl, or boy, that I could endlessly dote and spoil on… And once I got with Naoya, realizing he too shared my dream, I literally felt it was only a matter of weeks before we’d have our own family.

But, when we began to try, and try, and try… what I once felt just by my fingertips was slowly transforming into an impossible dream.

People say that these things happen unexpectedly, just when you need them the most.

… and I wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt. Remain hopeful and believe that the gods had other plans for me in the meantime. But… the two of us knew it. There was something wrong, and we didn’t know what—

Or more like we didn’t want to know.

Naoya couldn’t even consider himself as the possible cause. And I… I also didn’t want to believe I was the obstacle between me and my dreams.

And then, you came along.

I guess it’s the weight of our actions that eventually made Naoya… hesitant for the baby.

We always knew that it was yours, it’s just that maybe… maybe we hoped it wasn’t. We so desperately wanted to believe the baby was his, ours, and not fruit of something we perhaps should’ve never done.”

Feeling both confused and slightly angered, Toji scowls.

“I can understand one thing—I was used. Fine, whatever. Nothing new. But the rest? If it was such a big issue your marriage, then why did you keep the baby? Surely Naoya considered getting an aborti—”

“Because I wanted to keep the baby.” You confess. “I was growing so desperate and lonely—to be married and yet be as isolated as I’ve never felt before, what was I supposed to do?! In a house full of people… do you even know how that feels?!”

“Like you wouldn’t imagine.”

Your eyes widen, and soon, a crushing wave of regret inundates your mind.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur, Toji sighs. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You’re just stressed.” He concludes. “Pregnancy stuff, I guess.”

“…I want my husband, here, with me.” You quietly admit. “I don’t want him to work anymore, spend days and weeks far away. But instead, he’s out there, angry with me and the baby…”

“He’ll come around.” Toji doesn’t know why he said that, only that he had to. You frown.

“How do you even know that? How do you know he won’t divorce me—or worse, cheat on me?”

“Do you hear yourself?” he scoffs, partially holding back his laughter. “Do you actually believe he’d be capable of cheating on you?”

A woman as special as you?

“Everyone else did at one point.” You remind him, he rolls his eyes. “Well, what else am I supposed to think after his absence?! He doesn’t even love me anymore for all I care!”

“That’s stupid.”

“Maybe for you it is.” You cry, tears begin to pool in your eyes. “It’s just a matter of time before he files for divorce and leaves me for someone else! Someone that can give him children of his own! Oh, I should’ve never allowed—"

“Naoya isn’t going to divorce you because I’ve seen how he treats you.” Toji interrupts, hurt by your blatant disregard of him, and yet, something about seeing you so distressed like this, heartbroken, makes him want to console you even more. “He could’ve divorced you the moment he saw the results, but he didn’t. Have you thought about that?”

“Perhaps he’s waiting for the right moment to humiliate me before his family—”

“Naoya loves you.” Toji says, and the words hurt him more than he anticipated. But… why? “I’ve known the kid since he was born—I’ve seen how he treats the people he doesn’t care about. And you’re nothing like that, not even close. So no, he won’t humiliate you.”

“And what makes you think that?”

Toji goes silent.

He’s acting as if he doesn’t know why he’s out here insisting so much on comforting you. And honestly? It made sense, for just a few hours ago he couldn’t care less any for a woman that played with two men and now had to pay the consequences—

But the truth wasn’t as cryptic as he liked to believe. All that he needed to do was dive a little deeper into his own thoughts and he’d soon find out why, as clear as day, he was fighting so hard to make you feel better.

And it all started the moment he accepted one crucial detail:

You were the mother of his child, his firstborn, and so… it unknowingly evoked a sense of protection towards you, deep underneath the layers of his disbelief and mockery…

Or more like further developed.

Since the first night the two spent together without Naoya, or perhaps even before, there was something brewing inside him, slowly, but surely. The first foundations of the feelings that would only flourish the night he had you alone, completely for himself.

In those moments of solitude, Toji liked to imagine that you were his wife; accompanying him underneath the covers, seeking his embrace, his touch, while telling him of your tedious day and how you so desperately looked forward to seeing him again—

And not Naoya.

The possibility of coming home to a warm bed, with a wife that treated him like an actual person, not a stain in the long history of the clan, contrary to the cold, empty room he has been condemned to since birth… is something he didn’t know he wanted, until you stumbled onto his path.

To be able to seek your figure whenever walking across the estate, hoping to catch you just around the corner, gossiping with your ladies about whatever it is that you liked to talk about with them, before you notice him by the corner of your eyes, lifting your gaze and seeing the lovely way your eyes would brighten at his presence—

A wide smile adorning your face, cheeks quickly turning red as you shyly dismiss your staff in favor of receiving him. Running to him to tightly embrace him, subsequently standing on your tip toes to land a kiss on his lips before murmuring the sweetest welcome home and tending to him.

And eventually… getting to hear your moving cries upon learning you’re expecting a baby. After many weeks of trying, both their efforts are finally met with the most beautiful reward life could give, letting your imagination run wild with all the things you wanted to do as a future mother—and yet, you’d still find a way to reassure him that he’d be a good dad.

That the disgrace of the Zen’in, the wretched man no one deemed respectable, less capable of harboring love, was still capable of being a good father. A caring husband.

…

But this was nothing but a silly desire of his, a response to the horrible things he’s endured.

…Perhaps if things had been different, had he been born as literally anyone else but himself… or maybe even met you under different circumstances, his life would’ve been completely different.

One with you, hopefully.

“Toji!” you suddenly gasp, startling him and concernedly looking at you.

“What is it now?” he frowns.

“The baby.” You say, which does nothing to ease his worries. “It’s—”

“It’s what? What’s happening??”

“The baby is kicking.” You reveal, swiftly taking his hand and placing it over your round stomach and onto the area you feel their kicks to be. “I can’t—I can’t believe it, look!”

“What do you mean they’re—”

Toji’s eyes widen.

A kick.

And another. And another one.

You weren’t lying, the baby was kicking.

And unbeknownst to him, this was their first time doing it too.

“Can you feel that?” you say, and all past worries were now replaced with excitement and overwhelming happiness for this special moment. “The baby is finally kicking!”

“I… can.” He demurs, trying his best to comprehend what was happening just beneath his palm, before noting the peculiarity of your sentence. “What do you mean finally?”

“It’s the first time he does it.” You reveal. “It’s supposed to happen around this time, but I didn’t know when, of course. I guess… now’s the day.”

“That means…”

Naoya didn’t get the privilege of feeling the baby’s first kicks.

No.

Not any baby.

His baby.

And now that this truth settled in his mind, it quickly became the sweetest moment he had ever experienced in his life. Something he wishes to preserve for all eternity…

Just after dealing with the enormous sense of guilt and shame settling in his heart.

For how could he ever consider bestowing the same fate as his to this innocent child, just to get a rise of the family that wronged him? Towards someone whom he hasn’t even met… simply because he couldn’t deal with his own emotions?

Just when did he turn so despicable? Embracing the kind of malice as his clan?

He should be ashamed to even be beside you.

“It’s a boy.” You say, abruptly cutting through his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“The baby—it’s a boy.” You repeat. “We’re having a boy.”

Toji doesn’t know why, nor thought it possible, but the news somehow makes him feel even happier.

“A boy.” He repeats. “A son.”

“We haven’t decided a name yet” you confess. “I was thinking something in honor of Naoya, continue the tradition like him and his father.”

“Why not something for you?” Toji suggests instead; his concern might be disguised in favor of your emotions (and partially, he was) but it was mainly the distaste of having Naoya’s, or technically Noabito’s, name anywhere near him.

But he wasn’t going to tell you that, obviously.

“After the way he’s acting, you deserve that much.”

You press your lips together before lightly chuckling, finding some truth behind his words.

“I guess so… but then, which name?” you ponder, frowning as you go deep into thought, yet nothing seems to arise for the occasion, certainly not when you’ve done nothing but consider names with the same kanji as your husband whenever touching the subject.

Thinking you needed more time to consider, or perhaps needing to admit there was nothing else you wanted but honor your husband, you accept defeat with a sigh.

“I don’t know, Toji. Maybe I should just name him after Nao—”

“Megumi.”

“What?”

“Megumi. Blessing.” Toji explains. “I thought it’d be fitting with what you told me.”

“That’s… very straight forward.” You say after a few seconds of quiet consideration, “Unusual, since it’s mostly used as a girl’s name, and I don’t know if the elders would approve—”

“Look, if it’s that much of a problem you don’t have to use—” Never one to happily accept rejection, Toji quickly feels both embarrassed and frustrated by you, which he does not hesitate to let you know.

Only to be surprised yet again.

“But also, very sweet.” You smile, briefly looking up to him before glancing back to your stomach and onto your hand resting on top of his.

He blinks, perplexed by your sudden admittance—and such, all he can do is stare at you while you keep pouring your heart out.

“Even with the things I had to endure to have him here… he’s still my blessing, and I wouldn’t want him any other way.”

At your declaration, Toji is pushed down onto another turmoil of emotions.

It shouldn’t be that hard to conclude this is something he should isolate himself from.

Remember that he isn’t part of this marriage, no matter if he had permission of the other two involved, or how much he tries to convince himself—Understand that his blood means nothing, both inside and outside the clan, and that’s how it’ll always be.

But when your hand gently squeezes his for a moment, thumbs caressing his knuckles as you let him know your pains are slowly disappearing and how grateful you are for his help—all his worries are quickly discarded, allowing him to once again imagine live out this faux reality a bit longer.  

A happiness that comes from the notion of being your husband, simply enjoying a quiet afternoon, the refreshing spring breeze, while sitting by the engawa, in front of your favorite garden, trying to make up for all the time he spent away from you.

Time Toji knew he should’ve spent either way by trying to get close to you, see your growth firsthand, check on you from time to time, assist whenever possible— instead of plotting a stupid plan to ensure your and the baby’s downfall.

He reproached himself for having fallen for such an arrogant trap, and convinced himself this was the way to go.

Yet, he didn’t allow that thought to interfere much with the present. He shouldn’t either way—not with the lovely bumps of his son’s kicking against his hand, almost as if he recognized it was his father finally acknowledging him…

And certainly not with your warmth reminding him of what could’ve been.

A moment he’ll preserve in his memories for the rest of his days, because while relishing in your company, he had already made up his mind.

One that fitted with the idea that all good things must come to an end.

Especially those that are simply not meant to be, less for someone as disgraceful as him.

It hurt him to come to this conclusion. To acknowledge what his mind, and existenceconstantly reminded him about.

But he knew he had to do it.

From that point forward, he’ll do everything in his power to keep away from you.

Toji would no longer watch you from afar, nor ask for your whereabouts, whether directly or indirectly.

He’ll simply limit himself to hearing of your wellbeing, or how your relationship began to flourish yet again, through rumors of the staff, if he was ever around the estate to acknowledge them.

He was right when he said Naoya would come along, you know? He might be wrong in some things, or most, but when it comes to judging other’s character, Toji never misses.

It was nothing but obvious that Naoya loved you very much, after all, if he no longer wanted to know anything from you, you wouldn’t have lasted as long as you did.

Naoya kept you at the estate, fed, warm, tended for, because he loved you—to the point of going against his own clan to provide you with the much-needed assistance you required for your oscillating pains.

With such gestures, it shouldn’t come to him as a surprise that you also loved Naoya very much.

And yet, it hurt him to realize such a thing.

But who was he trying to fool?

At the end, he had always knew he had no place in that marriage. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that the reason you kept returning to him was because you wanted something more from him—it was never the truth to begin with:

Your mind was always in Naoya’s wellbeing, and in his love.

He was ultimately a step towards your goals. Whether for pleasure, or for something deeper, it didn’t matter—they all went to the same target.

So, when he hears from the gossiping staff that you’ve named your child Megumi, he doesn’t get his hope ups anymore.

Instead, Toji simply takes it as what it is: a way to thank him for the blessing he’s given you, honor him one last time, before cutting ties with him forever.

Because the moment anyone catches wind of his relationship to your son… everything will collapse, and that is something he is no longer willing to allow.

Thus, he stays away. Keeps his distance from you and Naoya as both continue to tend for their growing family, giving Megumi things he had only dreamed of getting:

A warm, cozy bed to sleep in, where he’d be able to dream about all kinds of things he’d like to do when the following day arrives.

A roof over his head, guarding him from the cold pours of the rain, or the burning rays of the sun, as he watches the world go by.

Food to fill his stomach, every day, whenever and whatever he wanted, ensuring his healthy growth or an occasional craving.

A set future that would reassure him of any misgivings, permitting him to fail and not worry if he’ll have anyone to back him up, or start from zero.

But most importantly—

Love.

To remind him that no matter what happens, whatever he does or doesn’t do, he’ll always have a family to support him just the way he is.

…

…

…

Yeah.

It’s clear to him now.

It had always been better this way.

In other words, Toji disappears from your and Naoya's life to ensure your safety. Woaaah. I hope I was able to convey that kind of sad redemption (?)

Also, I was debating whether to actually name the baby Megumi or not, since it's a whole other character—but then I thought, why not? and thus this happened.

I guess we get to the conclusion that if there's one person that's most deprived (and in need) of love, it would be Toji. We all saw how he got after mamaguro died... so I think him doing an 180 to protect the mother of his child and son is 100% accurate and sad omg. jesus, how different from the Toji I portrayed in the previous oneshot.

Anyways, I hope it was to your liking :3 Thank you for sending in this ask, I really enjoyed writing it!

Take care, and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️

[writingquestionsanswered]

How do I decide on a setting for my story? I've come up with a character conflict but not sure what kind of setting it would fit. I also still have holes in the conflict, like how it happened, who the character actually is and how their life is. Any tips on how to approach all of this? How to make it all connect?

Guide: Finding a Setting to Go with Conflict

A Word About Conflict

When talking about plot, "conflict" refers to a problem that must be resolved. More specifically, it's a problem that must be resolved by your character, but there are obstacles they must overcome along the way.

There are two types of conflict in plot: internal and external.

Internal conflict refers to a problem within the character's heart and mind. Some examples would be an inability to trust others, lacking a sense of belonging, or shouldering an unnecessary burden of guilt.

External conflict refers to a problem in the characters situation, life, or world. Some examples would be a murder mystery, a natural disaster, or trying to find a buried treasure.

Plots can be "character-driven," meaning they are driven entirely by internal conflict, "plot-driven," meaning they are driven entirely by external conflict, or they can be both. Many stories these days are both, meaning that the characters are driven partly by internal conflict (and a need for change) while they tackle the external conflict.

How to Figure Out a Setting

1 - Examine the conflict for clues. Some conflict ideas are really general like "I want my character to solve a murder mystery." Well, that could be set pretty much anywhere. Other conflict ideas are more specific, like, "I want my character to learn to trust again after a contentious divorce." That's probably going to be a more contemporary story, so you would be looking at a more modern, real world setting.

2 - What settings appeal to you? If you're looking at a more general conflict that doesn't have requirements related to time or place, look instead at the settings that interest you the most. Do you want to write a story set in Victorian England? Or maybe the Wild West? Or maybe far-future on a space station near Mars? When the sky's the limit, you can afford to indulge your interests.

3 - What genres are you most familiar with? If you still find yourself unsure, consider the settings of genres you're most familiar with. For example, if you read a lot of YA fantasy, you have a pretty good grasp on imaginary magical worlds, to that might be a setting you consider.

4 - Develop your character further. Although setting often informs character, it's also okay to flesh out the character first and see where that leads you. Sometimes a setting becomes apparent just based on the needs of your character or what you imagine for them.

5 - Use a setting generator. If all else fails, there are quite a few great setting generators that will help you come up with a setting. You can also try a random place/location generator.

6 - Where have you always wanted to go? If someone handed you a crystal and said, "You can use this to travel to any time and place, real or imaginary," where would you choose to go? Might that be a fun setting to try for your story?

Stay tuned for part two where I tackle the other part of your question!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[yuusishi]

Hello, can i ask for Idia or Ace (I can't choose between the two the one I want, so you can choose it), Lilia and Ruggie (my man need more love) hc with a reader that adopt legally Grim ? Like, now Grim have the last name of reader, and he call reader his dad/parent, and they have to be approved by Grim to date the reader ?

(separate please)

Have a good day/night (sorry for my bad english)

-Anon

. . . INTRO TO NON-HUMAN PARENTHOOD

pairings : Ace Trappola , Lilia Vanrouge , Ruggie Bucchi x gn!reader

genre : fluff , written with graduated!reader + characters in mind , established relationship

cws/tws : very tiny book 7 spoilers…like rlly small

a/n : it feels so weird not having any work done since my teachers assigned all our work before christmas break so we’d be able to rest

ACE TRAPPOLA !!

If he has to be honest, he doesn't know how to feel, not in a bad way tho!! He's so used to teasing Grim as a part of the first years friend group, but now that he's legally your child (and by extension his son), it just feels weird sometimes.

But in the end their relationship doesn't change one bit, this also means there's endless bickering whenever Ace comes by your place.

The one thing he can't get used to is though is Grim referring to you as his parent. I mean, c'mon, if you've been hearing "henchmen", "my human" for years it's bound to be quite the change.

During the legal adoption process, he's the type to be beside you searching on his cheap little laptop the meaning of so many words on the documents you're meant to sign (this is his way of helping you).

It doesn't sink in for a while that the three of you are technically a family, you occasionally joke about getting married in the (probably near) future and making Grim be the ringbearer or flowerboy.

One night when Ace crashed at your place, you came home to see him and Grim passed out on the couch next to each other, even seeing two slices of pizza purposefully left for you and hints of the tomato sauce stuck on the edges of the two's lips. You smile, nothing truly changes with these two.

Lilia Vanrouge !!

He's SO excited.

Silver's getting a new stepbrother once the legal process is done.

He's slightly disappointed though that, since Grim is already grown at this point, he won't be able to raise him like he did with Malleus and Silver but he'll still consider him a son either way.

I don't think unwanted fatherhood included brushing up on law and the adoption process so your guess on what terms on the documents mean is as good as his.

But we have the internet! Like Ace he's searching the meanings and making sure you understand the depth of every word printed onto the documents. Although he's hasn't formally adopted a child, he at least knows the legal repercussions that could happen should anything happen to Grim.

Overall, he's happy to have a new addition to his family :) First it was Malleus, then Silver came by, then Sebek, then now you and Grim.

When he first heard Grim refer to you as his parent, he can’t help imagining if Grim would call him “dad” or “father” like Silver does [cue heart attack].

He thinks about his general days occasionally, especially when he gazes on as you and Grim play around the field near the house he found after leaving NRC. He did not enjoy the war, not in the slightest, but maybe fighting in it was worth it if this was the type of future he's able to enjoy.

Ruggie Bucchi !!

He was really surprised, as in super surprised.

The entire concept of parenthood didn’t interest Ruggie in the slightest since it just meant more money to spend, even if it meant you had a little bundle of joy, but when you said that you were legally adopting Grim…

He looked at you like you set off a bomb in front of him 😭.

But after calming down a bit, he realized that Grim wouldn’t be even more of a handful than he already is since it’s not like he’s a baby that needs 24/7 caring.

Ruggie’s worked a ton of part time jobs just to earn some extra cash while on Sage’s Island, so he’s definitely dabbled in the law in one way or another.

He’s also just generally smart so he was your go-to man in asking the meaning of some legal jargon and he was happy to help you free of charge.

Hearing Grim call you his parent for the first time and even refer to you as that when you’re all at home surprised him a lot.

You’re telling him the little brat that always called you “human” and “henchman” in NRC calls you his parent now?? He can’t believe it.

After finally being able to adopt Grim, he didn’t feel the need to act “fatherly” since he’s known you both for years ever since NRC. Sure, he might be more open to going on midnight snack runs, but that’s it!

When reality sets down on him that he actually has his own ‘family’ now, it was a strange feeling. A sort of bittersweet happiness. It was a dream to him that he wishes would never go away, and you were there to remind him that this was his reality.

[rallentando1011]

Hello! I hope your doing okay❤️❤️

I’d like to request a Reader with a accent ( I’m native and I kinda realized how differently I sound compared to other people). How would the Rottmnt boys react? Like maybe sometimes they don’t know what the reader is saying??? Or have a hard time understanding?? Or maybe the reader says things differently? It’s fine if you don’t wanna do it, just thought I’d request. Thank you and have a nice day!! ❤️❤️❤️👽

ROTTMNT Boys W/ a Reader With an Accent

Thank you very much for this super sweet request! I may have projected on some parts of this, but don’t we all? Anyway, hope you’re having a great day, take care of yourselves, and enjoy!

(Also, I promise I am working through my requests and appreciate every one! Request guidelines are HERE)

Word Count: 855

Donnie:

Donnie loves ranting to you and listening to you in return, no matter what topic you guys talk about

Sometimes as you’re speaking you’ll use a word or phrase and see him have a genuine physical reaction to it

Head askew, eyebrow lifted, lips pressed together

When he feels confused, his expression says it more quickly than his words

Any time you mispronounce a word, he genuinely needs to butt in and correct you

Call it semantics or pedantics or whatever you want, he can not and will not let it go

If you’re fumbling over words or can’t think of the specific one you want to say, he’ll try to help by throwing out suggestions

Most of the time, he’s right on the money, almost impossibly so

You’ve jokingly accused him of using his tech to read your mind, but he hasn’t… probably

He’s just an intuitive fellow who loves his context clues

Hand gestures while you’re talking help him figure out what you mean

You two could go back and forth in a conversation of mostly hand gesticulations

He keeps a list of any regional or culturally specific words you use, partially so he has them for future reference, partially because he finds them endearing

If you ever find it, though, he will insist that it is strictly for the former

Nope, no sentimental value to it at all

Mikey: 

Mikey is a highly empathetic person, so whenever he doesn’t know what you’re saying or you don’t know what you’re trying to say, he’s understanding about it

He sits patiently and calmly as you work through your words

Likewise, he waits until after you finish speaking your sentiments to ask for clarification

Now, Mikey may be a compassionate little guy, but he can also be a menace (still to be determined if he is intentionally or incidentally that way)

Instead of specifying what he doesn’t get, he endlessly repeats

“Huh?... Huh?”

He does this until you physically shake him back to reality

In general, he is extravagantly generous with his compliments

Whether it be about appearance or personality traits, he absolutely loves showering people in praise

The same goes for you and your voice

Even when your accent occasionally confuses your conversation, he still loves your pronunciation of the words

And you can trust that he’s vocal about it

He might ask you to repeat a word just so he can hear you say it again

He just loves y̶o̶u̶ your voice that much

Leo: 

Leo is a giggler

No matter the situation, serious or silly, he’s always quick to crack a joke or pun or just laugh

When Leo doesn’t understand something you said, you’ll know

You can always tell by the purely mischievous grin that commandeers his features

You’ll be talking normally when all of a sudden you have to pause because that man will not stop smirking

When you ask him what the issue is, he slowly repeats whatever you mispronounced, hints of lighthearted condescension hiding in his tone

Somehow he asks you to repeat yourself in the most puzzling ways possible

“Run that back real quick?”

“Run what back?”

Leo may lightly tease you for saying something wrong, but he usually knows how far he can push and still be lighthearted

Although, if he ever oversteps with his teasing, he will apologize profusely, insisting that he finds it sweet

If you ever feel insecure about your accent or the unorthodox words you use, he picks up on it, immediately drops his teasing, and talks with you about how awesome you and your characteristics are

Even though he chuckles at any odd words you say, it’s never out of malice

He just finds it endearing

Raph:

Out of all of the brothers, Raph has the most experience interacting with people who come from all kinds of backgrounds with all kinds of voices

He’s always the one to go on patrols

Or talk with business owners when him and his brothers are at a restaurant

Or sneak into Times Square disguised in a hippopotamus costume to buy his father a robe

Either way, he’s been exposed to a multitude of accents

He even has one himself

With all that being said, it is abundantly clear that he is highly understanding of your odd pronunciations, even when he can’t understand you

He always waits until you finish your sentence or thought before incredibly bashfully correcting your pronunciation or asking for you to repeat yourself

Just to repeat it for emphasis, he is extremely shy while doing this

Shuffling his feet, clearing his throat, twiddling his thumbs

He just doesn’t want to frustrate you

However, he knows that he would want to be corrected if he made an error, so he finds it only decent to extend that same liberty to you

Raph occasionally giggles when your accent muddles your meaning

He doesn’t mean to, and does try to conceal his laughter, but sometimes he can’t help himself

It’s adorable- er, he means hilarious

He always specifies afterward that he was laughing at the situation, never at you and your wonderful traits

[miss-hyoko]

Um, can i have a gado-gado of Malleus, Vil, and Floyd with an S/O who is suffering from Alexithymia?

I would love to see these three's ways of handling this S/O! GN reader please!

"My sincerest apologies for the delay, valued customer. Here is your much-awaited order—a delightful serving of [Embracing Emotions] gado-gado. We hope its flavors tantalize your taste buds and bring you utmost satisfaction. Bon appétit!"

Embracing Emotions

Character(s): Floyd, Vil, and Malleus

Summary: His S/O had Alexithymia

Tag(s) and warning(s): GN!Reader, fluff, romantic, established relationship, doting boyfriend

Note: This request took quite a while to finish because I need to do some research about Alexithymia first. Hopefully, I did them justice in this. If there's anything wrong, please feel free to point them out 🙌

1. Floyd Leech

Floyd's interest in you started in a rather peculiar way. It was one of those days when he was feeling particularly grumpy, and in his foul mood, you accidentally bumped into him. Irritated, Floyd decided to give you a little scare by squeezing you. To his surprise, instead of screaming in fear or struggling to free yourself, you simply stared at him, dumbfounded and unsure of what to do. Your unexpected response intrigued Floyd, so he started relentlessly pestering you. Looking back now, maybe it was 'Love at First Squeeze'.

As Floyd's relationship with you progressed further, he started noticing something in your way of communication that he hadn't paid much attention to before. Whenever someone asked for your opinion, you seemed to falter, struggling to find the right words to express yourself. Even when you did respond, your responses often came across as general or vague, leaving Floyd with a sense that you had difficulty expressing your feelings.

True to his straightforward nature, Floyd wasted no time addressing the communication struggles he observed in your relationship. When he learned about your Alexithymia, everything finally clicked into place. While it did initially surprise him, Floyd wasn't bothered by your condition in the slightest since he can understand you quite well. However, if you wish to improve your condition, perhaps you can consider seeking Azul's help? ... Just kidding! Floyd wouldn't mind wracking his brain to figure out a way for you.

When Floyd's with you, he becomes more talkative and loves asking about your feelings whenever you're doing something together. In case you're uncertain about how to respond, Floyd will give you a variety of word options to help you describe how you feel, helping you navigate the complexities of expressing your feelings.

Floyd: *squeezing you* "Guppy~ What do you feel when I do this to you?"

His S/O: "I... I don't know."

Floyd: "Wrongg~ Try again, Guppy. What do you feel if I'm squeezing you like this?" *squeezing you tighter* "Do you feel unhappy, scared, surprised, or maybe happy?"

His S/O: "I..."

Whenever you expressed a specific feeling, he would eagerly ask you to recall and describe the physical and mental sensations associated with it. Floyd thinks that by remembering and articulating the feelings you experienced, it can be used as references to help you better identify and communicate your emotions in the future.

2. Vil Schoenheit

Vil was initially drawn to you because you had this kind of aloof aura surrounding you, creating an air of mystery and making you seem unapproachable. But, as he got to know you better, Vil realized that your aloofness wasn't intentional but rather a result of your struggle to express your emotions verbally. This led Vil to speculate that you might have Alexithymia.

At the beginning, Vil found your emotional detachment and difficulty in expressing emotions frustrating. He struggled to comprehend why you couldn't verbalize your feelings like others could. However, upon entering a relationship with you, Vil realized the need to shift his perspective. He took the initiative to research and learn more about Alexithymia by seeking articles, books, and personal accounts to deepen his understanding of your condition. Through this newfound knowledge, Vil gradually adapted his mindset and approach, becoming more patient, empathetic, and supportive

Known for his sharp tongue and sarcastic remark, Vil's way of speaking leaves an impression on those who encounter him. Yet, when he engages in conversation with you, Vil speaks with unparalleled patience that surprises those who witness it. It's as if he channels all of his patience and understanding exclusively for you. Vil understands the importance of clear and honest communication between the two of you, so he chooses to speak bluntly and directly, without any codes or sarcasm that could potentially misinterpret the meaning of his words.

Vil consistently encourages you to work on enhancing your ability to identify and express your emotions. When he's not busy, he'll invite you to watch movies together to aid your emotional understanding. During these movie sessions, Vil attentively guides you through the film by highlighting every emotion portrayed by the actors. He will tell you the emotion's name, the reasons behind its occurrence, how it is expressed, the accompanying experiences, and much more.

Vil: "The girl is disappointed because she got a poor grade on the test and has to take extra classes during the vacation."

His S/O: "Disappointed?"

Vil: "That's right, potato. Disappointed. It's the feeling you experience when something doesn't go according to what you wanted. You know, like when you had plans to go out but suddenly there's a storm. You would feel lost, wouldn't you? That's called disappointment."

When it comes to grappling with your emotions, Vil is a reliable source of guidance since he's an experienced actor well-versed in a wide array of emotions. He can suggest you various strategies you can try to help you navigate through your feelings, such as engaging in open discussions with trusted individuals, writing down what you feel on paper, or perhaps immersing yourself in music that resonates with your emotions.

3. Malleus Draconia

From the very beginning, Malleus already sensed that there was something unusual about you. Your seemingly apathetic demeanor and rare displays of emotions piqued his curiosity. Malleus assumed you were simply incredibly calm and collected, so he kept his observations to himself, choosing not to prod further. It wasn't until you both became a couple that you opened up to Malleus about your Alexithymia, leading him to finally understand the reasons behind your actions all this time.

Understanding the impact that Alexithymia can have on your interactions and personal life, Malleus becomes deeply concerned about how society might treat you for being different. With firsthand knowledge of the pain of being treated differently, he empathizes with your potential struggles and is determined to shield you from similar treatment. To ensure your well-being and happiness, Malleus spares no effort to help you understand your emotions, going as far as seeking guidance from Lilia.

Malleus is an incredibly supportive boyfriend. He actively encourages you to share as much as you can about your Alexithymia, attentively listening to every detail so he can help you cope with your condition. If you ever expressed a desire to explore methods that could improve your communication skill or expand your emotional range, Malleus would be more than willing to assist you in exploring the complexities of emotions. However, he also respects your boundaries and never pushes you beyond what you're comfortable with, allowing you to progress at your own pace.

Following Lilia's advice, Malleus begins closely observing your facial expressions and body language to determine the emotions you might be feeling. If you find yourself overwhelmed by intense emotions that you struggle to comprehend, he won't immediately validate your feelings. Instead, he gently shares his perception of the emotion he believes you might be experiencing to help you clarify your emotions and work through them.

Malleus: "The final exams are just a week away. Have you prepared yourself well, beloved?"

His S/O: "In the past few days, I've been preparing by reviewing the previous lessons."

Malleus: "That is good. But why do you still look anxious?"

His S/O: "No, I don't feel anxious. That word is a bit too much for..." *pauses to think for a moment* "Rather than anxious, I think I'm just nervous..."

Malleus: *smiling softly* "Is that so?"

This fae prince CAN and WON'T hesitate to go the extra mile to create a special notebook specifically for you. Inside this personalized notebook, he compiles an extensive list of various emotions, complete with the characteristics people feel when experiencing them and numerous example situations that might evoke these emotions. Additionally, Malleus even goes as far as filling the notebook with simple illustrations that he drew himself just to make sure the process of identifying emotions is easier for you.

[subliminalbo]

Internal Affairs #1: The Rookie

By the third week, Lydia’s revulsion was turning into arousal. By the third month, she struggled to remember the assignment at all.

I’m a cop, she reminded herself before rolling her hips, sliding down the john’s cock until it was pressed deep up inside her pussy. A soft moan staggered from Lydia’s lips. Again, I am a cop. Hips roll, cock deep, soft moan. I am a cop. Repeat until the john was satisfied.

It was all part of establishing her cover. Nobody would believe Lydia’s work if she didn’t do the work. Why couldn’t she enjoy it too?

I am a cop.

But she wasn’t a cop. Not really. It had once been Lydia’s dream. When she was eleven, two officers visited her class. The man looked like any other cop on the eleven o’clock news: wide shoulders, short cropped hair, carrying all that “fuck your civil rights” privilege with pride. Most of the boys stared at the gun on his hip, waiting for the little shit brave enough to ask, “Have you killed anybody?”

But it was the female cop that Lydia couldn’t take her eyes off of. She respected the children, spoke to them like people. Not like her partner who addressed the class like he was facing a courtroom. She didn’t look like any woman cop that Lydia had ever seen either. She was tall, and a statuesque beauty made her all the more intimidating. The boys only saw the man and the gun, but Lydia saw the looks between the two. How the man would turn to his partner before giving an answer. He only did it a couple of times, but it was enough for Lydia to know who was really incharge. No one had told her a woman could have that kind of power.

But Lydia’s dream of carrying a badge didn’t make it past high school. She ultimately chose a criminal justice degree at Carpenter State University over the police academy. She never expected that it was less of a path to a future, and more of a strange, meandering way back to her dream.

I am a

“...mindless whore,” the john said as she rode him.

Lydia stared down into his eyes. His face twisted between embarrassing expressions as he fought back the inevitable orgasm. The way he grunted his words, it surprised Lydia that the john could even try to talk dirty to her, most of his mental bandwidth allocated to holding out as long as he could. Lydia wasn’t cheap and she only took one shot for each service rendered. Every John wanted it to count.

“Is that how you like it?” Lydia playfully responded. “Young, dumb, blonde bimbos without a thought in their heads?”

The john grunted something back that a generous listener might say sounded like, “Yeah.”

“I am a mindless whore,” Lydia bit her lip. “My mind is just a wet hole aching to be filled by its Master’s cock.”

“Fuck,” the John gasped. “Say it again.”

“I am a mindless whore.”

“Again,” he pleaded.

“I am a mindless whore!”

“Again!”

I am a mindless whore.

Lydia had been applying to law schools when her professor approached her with the opportunity.

Lydia,

I was hoping you could set some time aside in your calendar to meet with a friend of mine from RPD. I think you’ll find it educational. If you’re interested, shoot me over some dates and I’ll set up the meet.

Best,

Dr. Bloom

Lydia met with the friend from RPD the next week in Dr. Bloom’s office. Lieutenant Barbara Keyes sat across from her at Dr. Bloom’s desk. Dr. Bloom briefly introduced Barbara then excused himself to let the two of them talk. Barbara wanted the meeting to feel informal. “Call me Barbara,” she quickly said when Lydia referred to her by her title. But the location betrayed the intention. Not a lot of people knew that Lieutenant Keyes was there.

Lydia did her best Sam Spade, studying the woman across the desk. Mid-thirties to early forties, no ring on her finger. More likely a divorcee than a spinster. A married to the job kind of cop, she figured. But most important was the confidence–Lydia realized as she watched Barbara speak that she carried herself with the same confidence that had first caught her eye all those years ago in her sixth grade glass.

They chatted for a moment about Lydia’s education, Barbara’s background, and quickly found a comfortable place where they were just talking like old friends until Barbara said, “So Charlie tells me you’re his best student."

“Best,” Lydia laughed. “I don’t know about best–”

“I do,” Barbara cut her off. “I’ve known Charlie a long time and I trust his judgment.”

Lydia sighed, considering her next move, then decided that it was best to just cut through all the bullshit. “So is this a job interview?” she asked.

Barbara sat straight, unmoved by Lydia’s candor. “Lydia, I work in IAD. Do you know what that is?”

“Internal Affairs,” Lydia blinked.

“Unfortunately, I find myself in the position of trusting absolutely no one in the Romero Police Department, which means when it comes to recruits I need to look in unorthodox places.”

“Like Carpenter State,” Lydia said.

“That’s correct.” Barbara nodded. “Now, on top of my position in IAD, I’m also the deputy director of the RPD sex work task force. Since the task force formed two years ago, we’ve managed to clean up much of the areas around Carpenter State, which is a point of emphasis for the commissioner. That being said, River City remains frustratingly impenetrable.”

“I don’t understand,” Lydia said. “So is this a job interview…to go undercover?”

“I need young, female cops,” Barbara said. “But more specifically, I need young, female cops who don’t look like cops.”

Barbara was right. It was unorthodox, even downright unethical. But it was hard for Lydia not to admire the risk she was taking. Barbara Keyes was the kind of woman who valued education over brute force, that’s why she’d turned to Carpenter State for new recruits. And Lydia understood her reasoning too–her dream of becoming a cop came to an abrupt end in high school after a highly public, sweeping police corruption case in Romero upended the department. It had shaken Lydia’s faith in justice, but she couldn’t totally let those values go. If anyone else had come to her with this offer, asked her to play the role of a prostitute as an inexperienced, secret cop? She wouldn’t have just turned them down. She would have blown the fucking whistle. But Barbara was different. Lydia couldn’t stop seeing that cop from sixth grade. For some reason she wanted to do what Barbara asked of her. She had no choice but to accept.

I am a mindless whore.

Lydia always came with the john. That was what made her one of the most popular and expensive whores in River City. She’d been trained that way. She’d been trained that way because it made her a good cop. A good whore was a good cop. But she always seemed to forget about that when she was on top of them, bracing herself against the headboard as her body rocked from the most powerful orgasm she’d ever experienced. It was always better when she was with a john.

They’d leave the money on the small table by the door and before they exited, Lydia would always offer something to keep them thinking about her.

“Your cock felt so good,” she said, dreamy eyes selling the illusion that this fuck was anything more than a transaction. “Next time I’d even let you cum inside my pussy.”

“You do that?” the john smiled.

“Well,” Lydia pondered as if she wasn’t reading a script. “I’d have to charge an extra five grand. Secret menu, you know? High premium for the risky stuff. But it’s worth it for my favorite.”

The john melted as she batted her eyelashes. They never had that kind of money, but goddamn they would fuck anyone over for that opportunity.

Lydia worked tirelessly through the night. Fucking, sucking, even occasionally offering her shoulder to cry on. She didn’t stop until she saw the pale blue light of the morning sky through the hotel room’s yellowing curtains. She took a quick shower, collected the evening’s take into a fat envelope, then flipped through her phone’s camera roll. 

The johns blurred together until they became one universal face. The only way she remembered them was by the pictures. She insisted on snapping a photo of every john’s ID before taking them to the hotel. “For security,” she would innocently say. 

Nobody had been busted by Lydia yet, so why should they suspect that it was anything more than a safety precaution? The johns liked Lydia and they wanted her to feel safe. But truthfully the IDs were part of the operation, one of the few things that actually made her feel like she was a cop. Barbara had been frustratingly vague on the details of her job, but Lydia knew that she was looking for somebody. Many of the johns were cops, and given Barbara’s role at IAD, Lydia assumed that she was trying to catch one of her own. But who?

She never recognized the faces. And try as hard as she could, she couldn’t match the names to them. They were right there next to the pictures, but something made it impossible for her to think of them as anything other than, “john.” The blue-eyed john, the brown-eyed john, the john with the scar next to his lip. Lydia selected the photos from her roll, a dozen for this night, and forwarded them in an email before deleting them from her phone forever.

Why had she done that? The details of her night’s work were better off with someone who understood it. No reason to burden herself with that knowledge anymore.

Before she could finish dressing, the room's phone rang. She was reluctant to pick it up, but the mechanical sound of the old fashioned landline phone drew her toward it. Something is wrong, she thought. I shouldn’t answer this.

It rang again, and she was powerless. Lydia lifted the receiver from its cradle and pressed it to her ear.

I am a cop.

“Good morning, Lydia,” the voice on the line said.

I am a cop.

“Good morning,” she slowly replied.

I am a

“I trust the evening was productive.”

I am a

“Yes…” she breathed.

I am

“And the IDs?”

I am

“I forwarded them to your email,” she said.

I

“Good,” the voice said. “And the night’s take?”

I

“Twenty-four grand.”

I am a mindless whore.

“That’s very good, Lydia,” the voice replied. “You know where to drop it off.”

Everything Lydia believed she was evaporated at the tinny sound of the telephone’s ring. By the time she heard the voice speak, that Lydia was already gone, replaced with the mindless whore she’d been trained to be. And she was one of the best in River City. She couldn’t fight that truth no matter how hard she tried to lie to herself. It felt too good.

“Tell me what you are, Lydia,” the voice commanded.

“I am a mindless whore,” Lydia said without hesitation. Speaking it out loud now drove her to the edge of another orgasm.

“That’s right,” the voice said, “And that’s all you’ll ever be.”

[theforgottenmcrmy]

Storms (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader)

᯽ Part 1 of this story, “Safety”, can be read HERE.᯽

᯽ Part 2 of this story, “Captivated”, can be read HERE.᯽

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: GOT typical sexism, canon divergence, violence, references to a sick parent, death of minor characters.

Word Count: 7,800 ish.

Summary: A royal wedding should be a joyous occasion for the realm- but there’s something ominous in the air. Dark clouds linger over the royal family, and the rest of Westeros. Even you may not be able to make it through what lies ahead unscathed... Fortunately, you’ve found someone who you know you can count on to always be by your side.

A/N: Y’all... I’m still shooketh over here.🥲🖤 I really appreciate all the support so very much. I’ll keep writing for this as long as I have ideas and as long as there’s a want for it. If anyone is interested, I highly recommend listening to The Green Dress score while reading the second half- it’s what I did while writing it. The score is just *chef’s kiss* and sets the tone for the whole feast so well. I hope you all enjoy, and please feel free to let me know what you think!

PS, before you come after me because of the little time jump, I politely ask that you keep reading... I didn’t skip over *the scene*, I promise!😂

The winds of change had come to blow through Westeros.

Princess Rhaenyra’s tour of the Seven Kingdoms in search of a future King Consort had abruptly come to an end. Though the death of one of the suitors during Lord Boremond’s host at Storm’s End would have put a tainted mark on the remainder of her tours to come, the Princess had declared the tour over herself shortly thereafter… Despite the two months of traveling that remained.

Prince Daemon had finally returned from his war in the Stepstones, and presented King Viserys with the crown he had been bestowed upon him following his victory. The two Targaryen brothers reunited in a touching scene witnessed by most of the Court. He was welcomed at Court once more… until one day, he wasn’t.

Following an incident that you did not know the entire truth of, though you wouldn’t have spoken of it if you did know, the King had exiled him again. You could tell Princess Rhaenyra grieved the absence of her uncle once more, but then Ser Criston Cole had been suddenly much more attentive to her…

King Viserys had dismissed Lord Otto Hightower from his duties as Hand of the King, an event that had not only generated a large amount of whispers among the Reach, but among the other kingdoms as well. The King had appointed Lord Lyonel Strong in his stead.

Following Princess Rhaenyra’s denouncement of the tour, King Viserys had arranged the marriage for her with Ser Laenor Velaryon. Like a few others at Court, you had heard rumors of her cousin’s… preferences, and were worried, though it was not your place to offer up your opinion on. Eventually, she noticed your reservations, and had subtly, but full-heartedly, assured you that she and Ser Laenor had reached an arrangement. Besides, King Viserys’ mind was made up, and Princess Rhaenyra did not try to change it. Despite your initial hesitation, you shared the opinion of King Viserys- the match was a good one. Uniting the two branches of the Targaryen House and healing old wounds could only bode well for the dynasty.

From then on, you threw yourself into your work even more, supporting Princess Rhaenyra in any way you could with the royal wedding preparations. It kept you very busy, but you were grateful for something else to focus on.

After many weeks of planning and preparation, the week of the royal wedding celebration had finally arrived.

You and Princess Rhaenyra stood on a balcony amongst the far end of the palace gardens, looking over Blackwater Bay in the distance. Though Ser Criston Cole may have accompanied you previously, he had not chosen to this time. He’d been standoffish lately, and regarded Princess Rhaenyra with much more formality than you were used to seeing him display. Something had happened between them, you deduced… but, much like the circumstances that led to the sudden exile of Prince Daemon, you knew better than to ask unless the Princess spoke of it first.

Both of you watched in comfortable silence as ships, almost all of them bearing the Velaryon coat of arms, sailed toward King’s Landing. The vessels spanned as far back and across the water as your eyes could see. The fleet appeared to be moving slowly- but you knew that to be a fallacy. In what would be no time at all, the Princess’ betrothed, his family, most of their household, and various bannermen and members of the guard would make land.

An odd whistling noise ran out from the sky. You tilted your head upwards, as did Princess Rhaenyra, and three large, majestic beasts broke through the clouds up above. The three dragons and their riders flew downwards, their wings skimming the water between ships before flying up ahead.

Princess Rhaenyra pointed to one, then another, and finally, the third. “There’s Seasmoke… Meleys… and of course, Vhagar.”

More whistling could be heard as the dragons flew over the castle, rustling the trees and shrubbery around you with the wind. They descended from the sky before finally disappearing from view- presumably landing in the periphery of the Dragon Pit.

Dragons were fascinating creatures, but they were still terrifying. Unlike many others throughout the Seven Kingdoms, you were glad not to have been born a Targaryen… No one had ever heard of someone being burned or eaten alive by roses.

You would have been content to stay there and watch the incoming ships sail into the bay with the Princess until the sun set, but you knew you both had duties to attend to elsewhere. You looked over at her with an apologetic look.

“We should return to your chambers soon, Your Grace. The earlier you are dressed and ready, the better.”

It went without saying that Princess Rhaenyra being late to the welcome feast would simply be unacceptable.

“We will, shortly,” she promised distractedly, her focus having returned to the bay.

You felt sympathy for her. You had a feeling that, would it have been possible, Princess Rhaenyra would have had heirs for her line whilst forgoing marriage altogether. Alas, not even the Targaryens were that magical, and a King Consort would be needed for some things.

“Princess Rhaenyra… Lady Y/N.”

The pair of you turned around to face the third party who had joined you.

“Ser Harwin!” Princess Rhaenyra gleamed, before looking at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “To what do we owe the pleasure, My Lord?”

Ser Harwin smiled patiently. “A messenger informed me that you had requested my presence, Your Grace.”

“Did I?” Princess Rhaenyra feigned, looking at you with mock confusion. “Well, I simply cannot recall why I may have done that… My sincerest apologies, Ser Harwin.”

“No apologies needed, Your Grace,” Ser Harwin assured her cordially.

His eyes drifted calmly over to you. In a flash, you caught a wink he sent in your direction, causing your eyes to fall to the dirt path beneath you.

“Well,” Princess Rhaenyra said then, taking a few steps away from the balcony and back into gardens. “You are absolutely correct, Lady Y/N- I should return to my chambers and get ready for the feast at once.”

“Would you like me to go with you, Your Princess?” you asked her, though you already knew her answer.

Princess Rhaenyra came to a stop beside Ser Harwin and vaguely waved you off over her shoulder. “No, no, no. Take your time. The girls will assist me until you arrive.”

Ser Harwin looked amused.

“As you wish, Your Grace,” you called to her, smirking.

“Princess,” Ser Harwin nodded her respectfully as she proceeded to walk away and head back towards the Red Keep.

Such had been a little “game” of hers as of late. The Princess seemed to take far too much amusement out of summoning the knight nicknamed Breakbones, finding a convenient reason to excuse herself, and leaving the two of you alone. Though her game had the potential to create quite the scandal for the pair of you, should you be spotted together in a compromising scene without any escort, you knew without a doubt that Princess Rhaenyra meant no harm. In fact, you were rather grateful for her meddling ways.

Once the Princess was out of earshot, Ser Harwin took a step forward, closing the distance between you. He nodded to you in greeting, but when he spoke this time, his tone was far more tender than it had been just a few moments before.

“My Love.”

You tilted your head upwards to look at him better. The mere sight of him caused you to smile so widely that it felt as though your face might go numb from the joy you were trying to contain. “Dearest.”

Of all the changes that had been occurring in Westeros, none had bore more of an impact on or immersed as much as your newfound courtship with Ser Harwin Strong.

“You look breathtaking today, as usual.”

Your cheeks burned. “Thank you, My Lord.”

You still weren’t used to Ser Harwin’s praises, but part of you hoped you never would be. The fluttering you felt in your stomach upon hearing the sweet words reminded you just how much you cared for the man in front of you.

You attempted to joke, “If you think of me as beautiful now, you should see me in the gown I am to wear to the feast.”

Ser Harwin happily took the bait. “I assure you, I have been counting down the hours until my eyes are blessed with the sight.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from smiling any wider. You took a moment to glance around you, ensuring that the two of you were alone. Once you were confident that you would not be heard, or overseen, you took another step closer towards the man that held your heart, extending your hands outwards to him as you did so.

Ser Harwin took his hands in your own hands with practiced ease. His hands were calloused from years of training and fighting, but you wouldn’t have changed that. The feel of your intertwined hands was grounding… and you needed to be grounded whenever you spoke with him lately, as his words tended to leave you bogged in an enamored daze.

His eyes, which looked upon you with nothing but the utmost care, tended to cloud your mind terribly, too.

“You look particularly happy today,” you noted, an unspoken question lingering in your tone.

“Seeing My Lady does tend to uplift my spirits,” Ser Harwin admitted playfully, his thumbs running lightly over the back of your hands.

You gave him an equally playful stern look. “My Lord,” you chided, laughing once. “You are a charmer, I will grant you that… But you know that is not what I meant.”

Ser Harwin gently raised one of your hands to his lips, placing a gentle kiss upon it. The action would normally have caused you to nearly swoon, but you pushed onwards, desperate for an answer to your question.

“Harwin,” you plead, lowering your voice as you addressed him informally, in the hope that it might cause him to focus. It worked- something shifted within his eyes, and suddenly, he looked more alert, more attentive.

“Please tell me,” you asked of him, “Has there been any news?”

The news which you sought was that of your impending betrothal.

Much had happened in both of your personal lives since Derron Tyrell’s visit to King’s Landing some time ago. Ser Harwin Strong’s letter that he’d written to your father had compelled your brother to travel to discuss the matter with him, and his father, Lord Lyonel, in person. Upon his arrival, your brother’s first inquiry in the matter was as to whether a betrothal to Ser Harwin was something you truly desired.

The Strongs were a noble family, and Harrenhal was the largest castle in all of Westeros, despite the ghastly tales. It was also worth mentioning that Harwin was now son to the newly appointed Hand of the King. But you were the only daughter of Lord Larris Tyrell, Defender of the Marshes, Lord Paramount of the Reach, Warden of the South… and all those other titles. You were from the Great House of the Reach, and Ser Harwin, while the oldest son and heir, was of a smaller noble house from the Riverlands. Not to mention that the Hand of the King was not a position that guaranteed any permanency.

Your father and brother had long since decided that they would choose a suitor for you, but they had also made no promises about denying you a suitor who they deemed as unworthy. They both wanted reassurance that this marriage would bring you true happiness, and not one arranged merely because Ser Harwin Strong had been the first to make an offer. After all, there were more advantageous matches for you that could be made… and there had been a mention of a certain Lannister or two.

You attempted to tell your brother about how your attachment to Ser Harwin, and his to you, had developed. You hoped it might explain why Ser Harwin had been compelled to write such a letter.

“Am I to understand this is a love match, then?” your brother had asked then, hopefully.

It most certainly was.

You could still recall the scene in your mind…

…

Your heart pounded in your chest. You had sent word through a personal messenger, one whom the Princess used frequently for her own devices when subtlety and discretion was of the utmost importance.

Ser Harwin must have gotten your message, as he was already waiting for you out in the castle gardens, in the exact secluded spot where you had requested to meet with him.

“Lady Y/N… I heard the Red Keep welcomed a visitor from the Reach today,” he jested, visibly nervous once more, just as he had been when you had spoken with him last. “Perhaps they are an acquaintance of yours?”

You wordlessly withdrew the letter, which you had clutched tightly in your fist, and presented it to him. “This letter… This letter that you wrote to my father. What does this mean?”

“Have you read it?” he asked, eyeing the parchment with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

“Please,” you begged. “I have spent the better part of my memory believing that you were taken with and about to be betrothed to another. My heart simply cannot take any more jests or delays at its expense… Speak plainly, My Lord. What does this letter mean?”

Upon the seriousness of your tone, which was a far cry from your usual playful banter and jovial attitudes the two of you had exchanged, Ser Harwin fell quiet, and his nerves immediately dissipated. You heard his jaw close, and for a moment, as he looked down at you with gravity in his eyes and upon his face, you feared he might not speak at all.

When he did, he spoke in a very calm voice.

“I can make my intentions very plain to you, My Lady,” he vowed. “If you will grant me permission to do so.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you were slightly off put by his choice of phrasing. “Of course, but-”

Ser Harwin silenced you by leaning down and capturing your lips with his own.

You froze, unsure of how to react to the foreign gesture. Before your brain or heart could fight for control of your next move, Ser Harwin withdrew from you, leaving you stunned, and, to your mild embarrassment, gawking up at him.

“You have captivated me, and stolen my heart right out from my chest. I know I have wronged you by not admitting this truth to you first, as I had intended. As punishment, know that my heart is yours to do with as you see fit… Though I would dare to beg you for mercy, Y/N. If you feel the same for me as I do for you, I ask that you grant me an honor which I most likely do not deserve, but will strive everyday for the rest of my life to be worthy of… I ask that you pledge yourself to me, and become my wife.”

…

How could the truth have been right in front of your eyes for so long, and yet you had mistaken it for something else entirely?! It was a folly you would not soon let yourself live down, that much was for certain.

“And, should you not feel the same,” Ser Harwin continued, noting your silence, “and I have now wronged you in more ways than one, you need only say so. I shall leave you at once, and without a word. We shall never speak of this aga-”

With a newfound sense of courage you did not know you possessed, you stood up on your toes, and kissed the man you loved right back.

It was Ser Harwin’s turn to be silenced.

There was no telling how long the pair of you stayed out that night, tucked away from the rest of the Red Keep and all of King’s Landing, just enjoying being in the presence of each other. But there was one more moment you recall definitively.

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

“Also, my answer is yes.”

“I… hoped as much, My Lady.”

 …

You almost let out a wistful sigh. The memory of that night was still clearly visible in your mind’s eye, just as clear as Harwin was now, standing before you.

Had you both been commoners, you would have already been wed. Ser Harwin had admitted as much, and you agreed. But as both of your families were of the nobility, the two of you were forced to wait as your fathers negotiated the finer details of the exchange instead.

After your brother had learned the truth of your feelings, and after having a private conversation with Ser Harwin shortly after, Derron met with Lord Lyonel to begin the discussions. But, as your father was to be made privy to every detail, the negotiations had not been complete by the time your brother was due to return to Highgarden.

Lord Lyonel Strong had presented your brother with the details of his most recent offer, and shortly after, you returned to Highgarden with your brother to see your father. You were glad to visit him, and to learn that his health had improved from what you had last heard and feared. Your father was happy to see you too- not only as a faithful and dutiful servant to Princess Rhaenyra, but also as a woman who was soon to be wed to her love, an honorable knight who was more than capable of providing for and protecting her.

Your father reviewed the offer made by Lord Lyonel, and wrote his own counteroffer. You presented it to Lord Lyonel upon your return to King’s Landing, and the waiting began. Since then, for a long few weeks, ravens flew from King’s Landing to Highgarden and back, many, many times, as the negotiations continued.

The issue of your dowry proved to be a significant hurdle. At first, Your father couldn’t help but be a little suspicious of the Strongs’ motives with the proposed alliance. Throughout all the Seven Kingdoms, the Tyrells were second in wealth only to the Lannisters. You knew that acquiring wealth was the last thing on Ser Harwin’s mind when confessed his feelings to you, and he’d said as much several times since. But eventually, a dowry amount was settled upon that was found to be acceptable for both families. There was an additional stipulation- all of the funds were to go towards repairs to Harrenhal and its surrounding grounds. The hope was that doing so would make the castle safer for you and your husband… and eventually, your children.

Since then, the negotiation points had been of little concern to either of you: where the wedding would take place, who would pay for what parts of the celebration, where you would spend parts of the year, and what surname your children would have. It was all trifling. Both you and Ser Harwin just wanted the negotiations to conclude, and the sooner, the better.

“Unfortunately, I have no news for you today, My Lady,” he informed you, his thumbs still tracing lightly over the backs of your hands. His gaze lifted from your intertwined hands, and he looked deeply into your eyes. “But my father assures me that they are close to reaching a final agreement.”

You didn’t have the heart to point out to him that he had already been telling you that for quite some time. “Let us hope.”

Ser Harwin looked about your surroundings briefly, confirming that you were still alone. In consolation to your disappointment, he leant downwards, and placed a soft kiss upon your forehead.

Despite your frustrations, and his own, it could always be said that Harwin never hesitated to do whatever he could to reassure you that the match between you was one worth waiting for.

“You look beautiful, Your Grace.”

Princess Rhaenyra turned her head over her shoulder and smiled at you as you entered her chambers. Two ladies- who happened to be none other than Ser Harwin’s younger sisters- attended to her. One smoothed out the skirts of her dress while the other was putting some adornments in her silver hair.

After their father had been appointed Hand of the King, the two girls had only recently been chosen by the Princess to serve as her junior ladies in waiting. They were a few years younger than you and the Princess, but old enough to have some scrutiny and tact about them, and they were eager to please. Both were already dressed and prepared for the welcome feast.

You looked over the Princess’ appearance with mock scrutiny, but ultimately smiled. “The two of you did such an excellent job… I fear I shall no longer be of service soon.”

Princess Rhaenyra rolled her eyes playfully. “Come now, Lady Y/N- how ever would I get on without you?” One of the girls presented her with a hand mirror. The Princess looked over her appearance for a moment before giving a small nod. “This will do. Thank you very much, My Ladies.”

The girls smiled, giddy with her praise.

“You two should head on over to the throne room,” Princess Rhaenyra dismissed them. “I’ll have Lady Y/N attend to whatever is left.”

The girls nodded in understanding, curtsied, and promptly left the Princess’ chambers.

Princess Rhaenyra picked up the small mirror again, and apprised her appearance once more. You caught a glimpse of her face in the reflection from your place a few feet away, and it was with a twinge of sadness that you realized how downtrodden she looked.

“Are you well, Your Grace?” you asked her quietly, subtly offering her an opportunity to speak about whatever was on her mind.

Unfortunately, the Princess did not wish to speak of whatever was troubling her. She put the mirror down and turned to face you. “Yes, all is well,” she answered, though her tone still left you questioning the sincerity of her words. She smiled at you teasingly, and inquired, “Is everything alright with you, Lady Y/N?”

You pursed your lips, fighting off a smile.

“Has there been any news?” the Princess asked, eargerly and expectantly.

Though you still were in her service, Princess Rhaenyra had become a true friend and confidant of yours. She was knowledgeable of the negotiations stalling your marriage to Ser Harwin, and was sympathetic for you.

“Not yet,” you answered, unable to disguise the disappointment in your voice.

“I am sorry to hear that… But the night is still young,” Princess Rhaenyra noted optimistically. “I bet that by the end of the week, another betrothal announcement shall be made.”

You certainly hoped so, but didn’t want to get your hopes up.

“You should get ready for the feast,” she said then, giving you something else to focus on. “The seamstress put the finishing touches I asked for upon your dress, and left it over there.”

You walked over to the bed, where Princess Rhaenyra had gestured to. Your eyes immediately spotted the gown in question. The Princess had requested that all her ladies wore similar gowns, all of the same color, for the welcome feast. Your gown was a little bit more… revealing, than what the Strong ladies had been given, but it was more suitable for each of your ages that way.

“The color matches the jewels in your hair,” you observed with a smile.

Princess Rhaenyra returned the smile, pleased that you found the gown as gorgeous as she did.

The welcome feast had begun.

The esteemed guests from all across Westeros who had traveled to King’s Landing for the festivities were announced one by one, before paying their respects to the King and Princess.

The Queen had yet to arrive.

You were the only representative of House Tyrell to attend, and conveyed your apologies to King Viserys on your family’s behalf. Your father had taken ill once more- another factor that had played a role in the pace at which the marriage negotiations were taking place- and your brother Derron had no choice but to stay in Highgarden to help him manage affairs.

Since you were alone, you had no one immediately obvious with which to sit for the meal. Your betrothal to Ser Harwin was not yet official, so you had been assigned a seat beside the Hightowers and other noble families of other houses from the Reach. You knew most of them well enough to be able to carry out polite conversation, to accept well wishes for your father, and to inquire as to the state of their own houses and health.

But you couldn’t help it as your eyes drifted forlornly down towards the opposite end of the table, where Ser Harwin was seated with the majority of his family. You caught his eye every now and then, and when you did, the two of you played an unspoken game to see which would be the first to break and look away.

House Velaryon was the last to enter the throne room, and the attention of everyone else in the room was commanded by the sight. As House Velaryon strode over to the high table, which was positioned just in front of the Iron Throne, thunderous applause rang out. Though Lord Coryls had been no stranger to the Court during King Viserys’ reign, his wife, the Princess Rhaenys, and their children were not so often seen. Everyone was eager to lay eyes upon the future King Consort, Ser Laenor, and his sister, Lady Laena.

The princess rose from her seat to greet her betrothed, and shortly thereafter, the Velaryons and the rest of their household were seated. Everyone else in the room followed suit, save the King, who looked over the crowd. You looked over towards King Viserys and waited for his speech to begin.

But suddenly, the King’s cheerful face fell, and muffled whisperings around you filled your ears. You followed the King’s appalled look over to the entryway, where none other than Prince Daemon was making his way into the throne room. Ser Harrold did not bother to announce him- he was probably as shocked as most everyone else in the room.

The whispers did not cease as Daemon approached the high table calmly, acting as though he had not been exiled by the King, again, not too long ago.

You looked over at Rhaenyra and tried to gauge her reaction to the uninvited guest. If she had known about her uncle’s impending return for the wedding, she had not told you of it- though you honestly could not say whether she would have. The pair of you had a special bond, but the bond between her and Prince Daemon would always be stronger.

Thankfully, the Princess looked just as surprised to see her uncle as everyone else, though she was much better at concealing her facial reaction than the King. Once Daemon was before the high table, you thought King Viserys might call for his head right then and there. But instead, after a moment of thought, he beckoned for a chair to be brought out for him. Prince Daemon was seated beside the Hand, Lord Lyonel, and the room began to settle from the interruption.

King Viserys smiled once more, though it was more strained than genuine, and began his welcoming speech. Unfortunately, he was not able to get very far into it, before it was disrupted once more.

All eyes in the room once again turned towards the entryway. Unlike with the previous tardy guest, no whispers erupted this time. Instead, the room was overcome with a bone-chilling silence.

Queen Alicent had finally arrived. But what was more shocking than her blatant disrespect of King Viserys was the outfit she had chosen instead.

She wore a bright, emerald green gown.

Those seated rose respectfully as she made her way over to the high table. Despite those who you were seated with- other members of House Hightower being seated just a few seats down from you- your eyes involuntarily narrowed as the Queen passed you. Just what point was she trying to get across with her choice of garment?

You’d never seen the sight with your own eyes before, only having read about it in books and having heard it in tales from your father. But you knew, very well, what color the beacon in Oldtown glowed when the Hightowers called their banners to war.

Green.

Once the Queen was seated, the King was finally able to finish his speech, and dinner was served. You still snuck glances at Ser Harwin as often as you dared, though the looks you gave him now were probably laced with little else but concern.

Once the meal was over, you were grateful for the dancing to begin, for it gave you a perfect excuse to stand and socialize with other guests whom you were not immediately seated by. Princess Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor were the first to take the floor, as was the tradition, but once the dance was complete, the other guests slowly but surely joined in the fun.

You rose from your seat and walked over towards the end of the table, joining the group of nobles who had gathered there to observe those already on the dancefloor.

“Lady Y/N.”

You turned, and were pleasantly surprised to find Lord Lyonel Strong standing beside you.

“My Lord,” you greeted him with a smile.

“Are you enjoying the feast so far, My Lady?” he inquired then.

The question was innocent enough, but difficult to answer truthfully. Your eyes darted over to Queen Alicent, and then Prince Daemon, who were both still seated. Well aware of the fact that you could be overheard, you simply answered, “This feast will be remembered for quite some time to come, I am sure.”

“I do not disagree,” Lord Lyonel said knowingly, having noted whom you had glanced at. Lord Lyonel, on the surface, gave the air of an uncomplicated man. But you were beginning to suspect that there was more to him than one might assume. A lord from a small noble house in the Riverlands didn’t become appointed Hand of the King by mere chance.

“Lady Y/N,” he said then, in a much quieter tone that grabbed your attention immediately, as was its purpose. “I do want to thank you for your patience as this business with Highgarden is negotiated.”

Lord Lyonel’s statement was decently vague, but you knew immediately what he was referring to. “Thank you, My Lord. I understand that such matters are necessary, though I would deny that it has not begun to feel tedious at times.”

Lord Lyonel gave you a sympathetic smile. “Perhaps you are right. Even so, I will be glad once everything has been settled. I must admit, I was, and still am, pleased by the proposition. I think all parties involved stand to benefit greatly… specifically, my son. I am grateful that House Tyrell has considered him to be a worthy business partner.”

He approved of the match; that the subtext of his cordial words. But even more so, Lord Lyonel was pleased that the match contributed greatly to the happiness of his son.

“There is more to Ser Harwin than his nickname,” you said decisively. “I believe Lord Tyrell and my brother simply needed some guidance in order to see that.”

Lord Lyonel nodded courteously.

As if he had known he was the topic of your very conversation, Ser Harwin made his way through the onlookers. He came to a stop before the two of you, and nodded to Lord Lyonel in greeting. “Father.”

Then he turned to you. He looked remarkable, dressed in finer clothes than what he typically donned, and a significant section of his hair had been pulled up and tied back, revealing the handsome features of his face. You were so lost in the sight of him, you almost didn’t register that he had spoken to you.

“Lady Y/N,” he greeted, giving you a charming smile. Said smile was offered to many, but it never was accompanied with the twinkle in his eyes that shone now. That had become exclusively reserved for you, a thought that both made you feel humble and filled you with pride. “I think it to be an insult that you have not been asked to dance thus far. Could you find it in your heart to grant me the honor?”

You looked towards his outstretched hand, and attempted to minimize the love-sick expression you undoubtedly wore. “It would be my pleasure, Ser Harwin.”

With one last glance at Lord Lyonel, you took Ser Harwin’s hand and allowed him to escort you to the dance floor.

You seldom had the opportunity to spend such time with Ser Harwin in public, and you reveled in every minute of it. The incredible ease you felt with him, whether it was while dancing, talking, or simply being in the presence of each other, was one that had yet to be matched.

As the pair of you went on about the dance, turning and spinning and stepping about as the song dictated, you conversed quietly.

“You truly are a vision tonight,” Ser Harwin complemented, causing your cheeks to burn both with mild embarrassment and in pain from your amused smile. “Better than I even dared to dream of.”

“Thank you, My Lord. … But now, I wonder- do you dream of me often, Ser Harwin?” you jested, taking his hand and twirling once.

Once you had turned around, you nearly came face to face with his broad chest; the two of you were suddenly much closer than before.

“Since you asked,” Ser Harwin said, leaning down so as to speak directly into your ear, “There are few nights that you do not haunt my dreams, My Lady.”

Before anyone could notice the inappropriate distance between yourselves, you each took a step back, and continued the dance smoothly.

You were taken aback, but pleasantly so. “Haunt?” you echoed. “Am I a ghost, plaguing you with nightmares?”

“I assure you,” he said, suavely stepping beside and turning to you in time with the music, “Not all ghosts are bad. Nor could any sight of you gracing my mind whilst I am asleep ever be considered a nightmare.”

Before you could think of something charming or witty to respond with, you noticed someone making their way onto the dance floor. It was with dread that they were headed directly towards you.

“I fear our time together is about to be cut short,” Ser Harwin announced, also making note of it.

You forced a smile as you greeted the interrupter of your lovely moment. “Lord Loreon.”

Loreon Lannister merely nodded cooly to Ser Harwin in his own way of greeting. The gesture made you want to give him a verbal lashing for his impoliteness, but since you were surrounded by others, and it was not yet socially acceptable for you and Ser Harwin to show any sort of attachment to the other, you were limited.

Ser Harwin knew just as much, too. He politely refused to acknowledge the disrespect, and greeted the other man anyways. “My Lord.”

“Might I cut in?”

Ser Harwin had no choice but to allow Lord Loreon to do so, and he knew that. The little weasel.

“I hope you enjoy the rest of the feast, Lady Y/N,” Ser Harwin said to you.

“And I you, My Lord.”

You watched with mild sadness as your love wandered off the dance floor before disappearing amongst the crowd of nobles watching on the outskirts.

A new song began, and you forced your feet to move, engaging in a dance once more.

Lord Loeron, though a few years your junior, had grown into a man since you had last seen him. However, he was still a young one at that, and you had your suspicions that the passing years made him no more wise. The boy- young man- had always lacked some tact. You’d hoped his father, Lord Jason Lannister, had instilled some sense in him, as Loreon was his only son and heir. But from what Princess Rhaenyra had shared with you regarding Lord Lannister’s own behavior and choice comments as of late, you severely doubted it.

“You’ve grown since I last saw you, My Lord.”

“Perhaps,” Lord Loreon granted. “Though I am afraid that I am nowhere near the size of Breakbones.”

You frowned in displeasure at his insinuating comment.

Your courtship with Ser Harwin while your fathers worked out the details of your marriage was not exactly a secret. But, other than Lord Jason on the occasion, Lannisters had been sparse at Court as of late… You concluded that the walls must have had ears. You only hoped that they did not have eyes as well.

“I am surprised by your choice of gown, Lady Y/N- I thought you might wear green, as it is a color of your House.”

And also the color with which Queen Alicent had chosen to draw a metaphorical line in the struggle for power.

You answered, “Princess Rhaenyra deemed it fit that all her ladies should wear gowns of Targaryen red tonight.”

“A wise decision by the Princess,” Lord Loreon declared. “I’m sure you look just as lovely in gold, as it is the other of your House’s colors... Though, perhaps a gown of red and gold would suit you best?”

You paused briefly, before forcing yourself to continue the steps. You feigned, “I’m afraid I do not understand what you mean, My Lord.”

“No, I suppose you do not. Perhaps my father shall arrange to meet with yours, and they can sort it out for the two of us. We would not dare spend any longer than necessary on negotiations. We know how much a marriage to the daughter of Lord Tyrell is worth, just as I am sure you know how valuable the marriage to the son of Lord Lannister is.”

You let out a small sigh, your patience for pleasantries completely diminished by his goading words. “If that is your way of proposing marriage, My Lord, it seems there is still vast room for improvement to be had in ways of your eloquence and common sense.”

Lord Loreon narrowed his eyes at you, but did not cease his dancing. In a threateningly low tone, he demanded, “You dare insult me?”

As suspected, time had not made him more wise. Lord Loreon’s pride was wounded just as easily as it always had been.

“It is I that has been insulted, My Lord. Asking for my hand so crudely, and during the wedding feast for the future Queen, no less?” you countered swiftly. “I think my father would be most displeased with House Lannister if he heard of this, not to mention the King.”

Lord Loreon finally stopped partaking in the dance. He looked very cross. He opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by several loud, piercing screams.

Immediately, the dance floor descended into a state of chaos. Initially, you were shoved backwards, as some sort of altercation took place in the middle of the dance floor. You could not see the individuals throwing fists, but you heard the sickening thuds of their punches landing mercilessly upon the other, despite the commotion of the crowd.

You looked back over towards Lord Loreon, only to discover that he had taken the moment of distraction to abandon you. However, you had expected no less of him.

Suddenly, the tune of the crowd changed. Encouraging shouts as the brawlers went after one another turned into horrified screaming. Guards flooded the room and attempted to make their way towards the middle of the crowd.

As the crowd shifted with the movement, you were unceremoniously shoved backwards and down onto the ground. The legs of others nearby as they shuffled backwards and out of the way were encroaching upon you rapidly.

Despite your position, you heard Princess Rhaenyra cry out, “Laenor!”

A horrible thought struck you. The Princess had been on the dance floor as well- you had seen her not but a few moments before. Was she still entangled somewhere in all of this mess? You had to help her.

You tucked your chin, and used the chair you had fallen up against as leverage to hoist yourself up and off the ground. Your eyes searched the crowd, and you felt dismayed when the Princess was not immediately in sight. “Princess?!”

Before you could decide on your next move of action, someone promptly picked you up, and threw you over their shoulder.

In the midst of everything going on, you were unable to get a good look at your sudden captor. You shouted protests and fought back, kicking and punching the man who had decided to take advantage of the situation as he proceeded to push his way through the crowd and away from the dance floor.

“Y/N,” a very familiar voice huffed, before gently placing you back on your own two feet.

It was Ser Harwin.

He hadn’t been your captor, no- but rather, your savior.

You watched in a stunned silence as Ser Harwin quickly looked you over with concern, putting his hands on your shoulders to get your attention. “Are you alright?” he demanded, gently but urgently. “Are you hurt?”

“No, no,” you replied quickly. “I’m fine.”

He’d placed you near the high table, where his father, and the rest of the royal family, even Queen Alicent, looked onwards towards the fight that the guards were still attempting to break up.

“Where’s Rhaenyra?” you heard the King ask, his increasing worry audibly evident.

“The Princess!” you said, suddenly recalling what you had set out to do before Ser Harwin had whisked you away- find Princess Rhaenyra, and make sure she was alright. You looked up at him pleadingly, before gesturing over from whence you both had just come. The Princess was still nowhere to be seen. “I heard her, right over there!”

Ser Harwin looked from where you had gestured and up towards his father. Lord Lyonel, also looking concerned, nodded over to the chaos as a silent go-ahead.

Ser Harwin fought his way back into and through the crowd, and you watched with bated breath as he did so. As much as you were concerned for the Princess’ safety as the seconds passed, so were you worried for him, as he quite literally punched and pushed his way through the half rioting and half panicking crowd.

Some ways away, he bent down and disappeared beneath your line of sight. Just as quickly, he stood once more, with Princess Rhaenyra over the top of his shoulder, as he had done to you. He couldn’t make his way back through the crowd quick enough.

Ser Harwin deposited Princess Rhaenyra down on the ground beside you, and you fussed over her immediately.

“Your Grace!” you exclaimed worriedly. “Are you hurt?”

Thankfully, Princess Rhaenyra looked more upset than physically injured. “I’m fine, I’m fine… What in Seven Hells is going on?!”

“Rhaenyra!” Her father beckoned her over to him, and she did not hesitate to heed him. With one last glance at you, she thanked Ser Harwin before joining the King.

The shouting silenced abruptly, drawing your attention back to the fight.

The crowd parted down the middle, revealing a gruesome scene. Ser Criston Cole was laying fatal blows upon another man, who laid practically motionless beneath him. You could not recognize the man from here, but you recognized the colors he wore as someone who was likely to have attended the feast with House Velaryon. The crowd stepped back further still, forced to do so by the guards who had finally managed to intervene. Then, the room went still.

Ser Criston, bloodied, and with a look upon his face that had been numbed with pure rage, halted his blows.

The man beneath him was dead.

Like wildfire, the crowd dispersed, fleeing the throne room. Nothing good would come of this- at the very least, the feast would not be able to continue. A member of the Kingsguard had just punched a man to death!

“Go, you two,” you heard the light but commanding voice of Lord Lyonel from behind you. To Harwin, he added, “See to it that Larys and your sisters make haste as well.”

You looked over at Rhaenyra, who was watching the results of the madness unfold with a sombered look on her face. But you had no time to decide whether or not to try and console her, for Ser Harwin had already begun to guide you out of the throne room. As instructed, he corralled his brother and sisters and made certain that they headed towards the exit too.

“Don’t,” he told you quietly as you passed the dead man’s body, evidently having read your mind. “I wouldn’t look.”

You were thankful that Ser Harwin had strategically placed himself between you and the body as you walked by, for it had been your gut reaction to do just that. You gripped his arm as he escorted you that much tighter, thankful to have been spared from seeing such a ghastly sight.

As you passed under the threshold, the anguished sobs of Ser Laenor echoed off the walls behind you.

That evening, in a private ceremony witnessed by only the families of those involved, Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen and Ser Laenor of House Velaryon were wed. The remaining festivities that had been planned for the rest of the week were canceled. King Viserys decided that, given the events of the welcome feast, the sooner the two were wed, the better.

Despite the sense of gloominess that hung over the Red Keeps in the days to follow, personal good news had presented itself to you the very next morning. A raven had arrived, from Highgarden, no less. Negotiations were complete.

Your betrothal to Ser Harwin Strong was, finally, to be official.

At the end of the week, Princess Rhaenyra and her new husband Prince Consort left King’s Landing for a small post-wedding sailing trip.

Your betrothal was officially announced the following day. You were ecstatic- for now, you no longer had to hide or deny your attachment to the strongest knight in all the Seven Kingdoms. Instead, you could celebrate it. And you would, too- with any luck, the two of you would be wed in less than a few fortnights, a few moons at the most.

The day after the announcement brought another raven from Highgarden. But this time, the news was not the cause of any celebration.

Your father, Lord Tyrell, had succumbed to sickness. 

Perhaps the Maesters had been wrong in their diagnosis of the ailment and ineffective with their treatment… Perhaps your father knew what was inevitable, but had held on just long enough to see to it that you would be looked after once he was gone.

…

The winds of change had come to blow through Westeros. With the winds, came storms.

But with Harwin by your side, you knew that you would be able to weather them all.

᯽ Part 4 of this story, From This Day, Part 1/2, can be read HERE. ᯽

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!🖤 I have (at least) one more part tentatively planned for this, but after started writing this, I came up with another idea... So, how do we feel about seeing the wedding?👀 Cuz I was gonna do another little time jump to the next part, but now I’m not so sure... Let me know what you think!

ALSO... does anyone else wanna talk about last night’s episode?! Because I have so many thoughts... ugh. It was so great. I cannot.

***The masterlist for this story can be found HERE.***

***Information about the taglist for this fic can be found HERE.***

Taglist: @whitetigerlover17 @littlebirdgot @te5s3ract  @nerdboylover @piper570 @ephemeralninon @linkpk88  @kaygilles @hippzella @wicked-hg @thatgaytevinter @nowheredreamer @ateliefloresdaprimavera  @saintspector @thebigbadbatswife @blazinglioness @itevilhag @chlo-feigh @bettybrainrot  @liadamerondjarin @fuckmylifedudee @hippzella @my-dark-prince @sweetestrose569 @kaygilles @lol-im-done @im-married-to-chris-evans​ @chetpuff @venus2eros @wicked-hg @mamamooqa  @prettymingwoo @bxdbxtxh15 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @brbaabs @novazoldyck @hoyaharper @shanzeyxsyed  @microwaveallthedemons @piper570   @fireghost-x @lakamaa12 @holb32 @thesheelfsworld  @inkareds @fuckoffthanos @mortallyspookyglitter  @akinatrix @bingewatche​ @guerraandpaes @nonniecannie @mousse-au-citron @autumnleaves1991-reads @thesithdiaries @potatingpotato-reads @perpetual-exhaustion21  @sinful-wxrld @marvelcriminalhoe2​ @redpool​ @blazinglioness​ @re-enjoy​ @itevilhag​ @jfcreading​ @prettywhencry1234​ @dankpunks​ @justonemore-fic @yonduismarrypoppins @luckyplums1 @logiclies @avoirlu @iunknownveritgo @theflowerpot @anoymousbye @strawbbyjamb @landofdreamsworld @green-beanie @queenofterrasen418 @michovisk @psychwardsiren @green-lxght @smptxx @electric-bloo @acciowolfstar1 @good-night-starlight @never-not-eating @minetticawonderland @idkjj04

[not-goldy]

Different anon from whomever sent you asks before. I don't care who ships whom but your ask was on my fyp and I wanted to say that from your response it's obvious what everyone's priorities are. In general shippers care more about their ship than either individual members. Case in point is calling letter a duet. Nobody outside of jikookers would ever say that even if they have absolutely no issue with jikook. Its not a joint song, JK is not even featuring. He's doing background vocals. And jikookers can talk about the significance of that as they wish but this persistence in calling letter a duet shows once again that ship >> actual members of your ship. Jimin wanted background vocals for his song so he called JK. Ok sweet enough. And if he wanted to do a duet with someone, he would do an actual duet with someone. Which again letter isn't.

Tbh I'm not sure why shippers get hung up on that anyway. Jimin and Tae had a subunit, JK featured in Hobis song, Namjoon wrote some lyrics in Face. Didn't mean anything for them but when it's your ship it's suddenly significant?

Well you guys can do what you want. It's just we already have one group of batshit insane shippers in this fandom. It would be nice if you guys didn't become the next version of that

With utmost respect don't you think you sound a bit patronizing and hypocritical👀

You don't know why shippers get hung on something you are equally hung on??? Like c'mon you walked right into that one😭😭😭😭😭

You're giving it's their not they're 😹😹😹😹

Like chill it's really not that deep as u say 💀

I want you to trust that shippers know the difference between jikook songs such as Who are you, we don't talk anymore, and letter.

Words can be used loosely or generically or technically and duet is often used loosely in ship parlance to mean any performance involving jimin and Jungkook be it dance performances, or singing performances or harmonies, covers or when they do back up vocals.

So, in the future while you browse these fandoms or shipping streets- I don't know how I landed on your FYP I don't tag my posts to make it hard to find me. My user name doesn't mention jikook directly nor do my blog title just to ensure I'm buried further down in searches- try to bare that in mind.

It's giving Jk solos during the jimin back up vocals on Euphoria debate. One of these days yall solos will pop a vein from the high blood pressure you give yourselves over jikook and shippers.

I'm sure when you search up jikook duets letters come up. Even algorithms get it and they are machines🥲

If it pleases your ladyship can I refer to Jikook's cover of Homme as a duet too???

Cos it's such a great duet🥲

[hell-raven]

absurdly long tangent/analysis

EDIT FROM THE FUTURE: this isn't to dissuade anyone from interpreting the canon as they want i just wanted to share my personal opinions based on the preexisting canon that may or may not be very passionate, please just have fun do whatever you want none of this is fact

i really hate how utsuho is flanderized to death and constantly boiled down to "the dumb bird girl" because if you actually sit down and Read her dialogue instead of relying on secondhand information you learn quite a few things about her (when i say this is absurdly long i mean it so keep reading at your own risk)

extrapolating from her own dialogue:

she actually wanted to blow everything up in th11 for real and it wasnt just a "hehe whoops" kind of thing. she was bestowed an extremely powerful ability and deliberately wanted to use it to cause destruction/take over gensokyo

she is extremely knowledgeable about her ability and job (anything related to nuclear power and regulating the flames of blazing hell, or just things about former hell itself)

she takes her job very seriously and supposedly does it very well

but there are a few things that get people: she has poor memory, other characters refer to her as "birdbrained" or "empty-headed, and there are a select few instances of dialogue from hisouten/gouyoku ibun that catch peoples attention. its one of those things where because other characters (and people) say shes stupid, it influences everyone else! in my opinion, i think her own actions straight from the source are much more indicative of who she is rather than the quick judgements of other characters.

=======================

the first major point before i get into the specific dialogue in the fighting games: "kanako needed an empty-headed hell raven, and utsuho fit the bill"

what exactly is meant by "empty-headed"? this is going to be more of an abstraction, so definitely take it with a grain of salt. we dont know much about utsuho before she gained her powers, just that she worked as a lowly hell raven that helped around the palace of the earth spirits/hell. to me, it sounds like an incredibly mind-numbing job that really doesnt require much thinking to begin with, so of course you wouldn't expect some kind of supergenius from it. im also going to go out on a limb and say that utsuho was a candidate for kanako's plan because she's also considered a pet. many unfortunately conclude that pets can't be intelligent, and even the title of "pet" carries the connotation of inferiority. even if she was truly empty-headed as previously suggested, this doesn't mean that she stayed as such with no change at all. when i first played th11, i would have never guessed that she would be "the stupid one".

small note: ZUN's comment on her theme ("even a fool that possesses great power can't cause too much harm")

the problem i have with this is that she really would have caused a lot of harm if the protagonists hadn't stopped her. you could say shes a fool for letting the power get to her head, but objectively i cant exactly point to anything in th11's dialogue/scenarios that suggests she's foolish unless you really want to count bad memory-retention as such. not gonna argue this too hard, but it seems like "fool" is a word thrown around very freely with little thought to how you can actually apply it to a situation.

=======================

IN HISOUTEN: sanae beats her up and afterwards says "youre trying to help me, actually" to which utsuho is like "Oh Ok". you could argue this is probably her dumbest moment, but would you really not follow or listen to the person who defeated you in battle? its not the most defensible point, but she didnt even seem completely oblivious either when she was asking sanae about the incident. my personal interpretation is that she has a bit of a short temper related to how important her job is. there are plenty of other 2hus who are generally sillier than this, it doesnt make much sense why utsuho is the only one who gets this treatment.

IN GOUYOKU IBUN: utsuho doesnt notice reimu before she starts blasting her to bits, which to be fair reimu wears all red in Hell (her fault honestly) + correct me if im wrong but is the power of nuclear fusion not extremely blinding? supporting this, in the events of GI its also implied that shes being overworked due to the oil incident, and we already established that she takes her job very seriously, so to me it makes sense that her first thought is to "remove the contaminant" and to use a lot of her energy in the process. a lot of people in general sometimes get wrapped up in their own work to the point of hyperfocusing, i say the bird can do it too

i also havent brought up the fact that we dont exactly know wtf eating a god does to your brain, whos to say it didnt fuck with you a little bit?

past all of this though i still think utsuho is funny as hell with her particularly bold and uncaring personality, its just that people seem to think that a couple of goofy moments make up her whole character and its just mildly annoying to me.. subterranean animism will probably be my favorite portrayal of utsuho because of how seriously they all treat her (mostly) but overall i wish more touhou fans would actually indulge in the source material and think a bit deeper about this neat little piece of fiction that i am WAY too passionate about (also its just way more fun to look at characters from a complex perspective)