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sansaorgana · 24 days ago

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— DECEPTION (IV)

DECEPTION MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader // Adar x fem!Elf!Reader

SUMMARY — Your relationship with Adar develops and you already see he is going to be a completely different kind of a partner than Sauron was. You're trying to gain your new husband's trust and you accompany him and his army during the attack on Tirharad where you get to witness the Orcs' battlefield havoc for the first time with your own eyes.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I am hyperfixating on this fic so much and it feels amazing to be so devoted to writing again. In general, the brainrot is real when it comes to The Rings of Power and I have not expected it but it is the most welcome. I already loved Season One but nothing could have prepared me for Season Two! 💕 Because of that, this fic will most likely have more parts than I have planned, so be warned already. I also might have an idea for a fic with Annatar but I would rather make it a long one-shot instead of starting yet another multichapter... But we will see... 🤔 I start my job soon and I honestly have no idea how I will be able to focus there to learn all my tasks if all I can think of is Adar and Sauron lol

WARNINGS — forced/arranged marriage, Reader is NOT a good person – she is proud, greedy, fake and corrupted by Sauron, "love" triangle situationship, every trigger from S01E06 (death, battle, violence) + Reader is not very fond of the humans and considers them a lower form of life (she is Sauron's lover, okay? I do not share her beliefs because I am a human, too)

WORD COUNT — 5,570

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DECEPTION (IV)

Tirharad was close but the Orcs could not travel freely in daylight. Even hidden by the thick forest, when the sun rose high up enough, they had to hide. So, you were standing by your horse and watching them setting up a small camp in the middle of the woods. Adar was standing nearby and you could overhear his conversation with Glûg.

“Are we attacking tonight, Lord Father?” The Orc asked.

“Tomorrow,” Adar answered and squeezed his arm reassuringly. “Tonight I shall send the scouts to observe the village,” he explained and Glûg nodded at him before going away to tell the news to his friends.

Adar approached you and you slightly flinched, which was an unplanned and uncontrolled reaction. He spotted it and froze for a short while, refusing to get any further. You were surprised to see that he seemed to respect your personal space and he was ready to back off any moment after realising you were not comfortable with him being around you now. On the other hand, considering the tortures he had been through, it made sense that he was sensitive about the concept of violating someone’s space.

When you first had seen him, he had terrified you. And the idea of marrying him had been the most dreadful. But now you were slowly realising that as cruel as he was to his enemies – he would not be a husband as brutish.

“What am I doing here?” You asked him, quietly. Then, you looked up to meet his gaze. “If it was your plan to destroy Ostirith and its habitants all along… Why save me? Why take me with you?” You asked, genuinely wondering.

“We share certain… qualities,” Adar explained softly. “Loneliness, attraction to darkness. You were trying to tempt me so I would agree to your father’s offer and marry you. And you have tempted me indeed because I’ve been lonely for a few centuries too long now,” he admitted. “And it was the most endearing when I realised you were doing it all for your mother.”

You looked down, not being able to hold his gaze any longer when he mentioned your mother. Yes, it was true that you had been sacrificing yourself for her as well. But what truly had been in the back of your mind was Sauron and the fact that getting close to Adar and his army of Orcs could help your lover in his future schemes.

And perhaps Adar indeed was sick with loneliness if he couldn’t see how truly rotten you were.

“Lord Father, your tent is ready,” one of the Orcs approached you and pointed at the largest tent for Adar to rest in.

“Thank you. Prepare one for my wife, too,” Adar nodded at him.

“There is no need. That one is big enough for us two,” you pointed out and walked inside without looking back.

You looked around and sat on the wooden chair by the small table. The Orcs had no home, so they were travelling with some furniture in case they would spend their days in camps like this one. It was a very poor setting but you were not one of the Elves who had grown up in the rich and beautiful realms like Eregion or Mithlond, so you were not complaining.

Adar walked inside, carrying a heavy wooden chest with some of his belongings. You watched him place it on the ground nearby the bed.

“These are too important to lose or leave unsupervised,” he informed you and straightened his back before looking down at your face. “If you do not wish to be in my presence for now, I understand. I thought you would hate me. Perhaps you do but you do not show it as fiercely as I suspected you would.”

“I feel bad for the Elves you slaughtered inside Ostirith just because they were unfortunate enough to work under my father,” you admitted. “But watching this fortress tumbling to the ground was an oddly satisfying experience to me,” you added and Adar furrowed his brows. “It had been like a prison too many times,” you explained.

In fact, you mourned Ostirith a little but no amount of admitting it would change what had happened and you did not want him to see your weaknesses. You wanted to earn his trust as much as you could. His and his children’s.

“What do you keep there?” You changed the subject lazily and pointed at the wooden chest with your chin. You truly were curious but you wanted to ask in a careless manner, so he would not get too suspicious.

Adar hesitated for a moment before crouching down next to the chest and opening it. You had to fight every muscle in your body from trying to get a better look inside and to keep appearing unbothered.

But when he lifted up the Iron Crown, you gasped. A thrill went down your spine; a malicious shiver as your heart clenched inside your chest. You could smell Sauron’s blood on it and you immediately realised how your beloved had died. It was a twisted way to get rid of him and quite poetic, too – you had to admit it.

“You recognise the item,” Adar pointed out.

“Has my father not mentioned my education and intuition?” You cracked a nervous smile. “How did you get Morgoth’s crown?”

Adar only smiled at that and hid the item again, locking the chest with a key that he kept with himself.

“It is strong enough to kill Sauron – it has defeated him once. Not fully, so it seems. But with the help of even stronger magic, it could work again and this time it could finish the job,” he explained. “Now you know how important this chest is. I have shown it to you in case something happens to me.”

Now it was your time to smile mysteriously but you only nodded at him to show him you understood completely.

“Do you wish to rest now, my Lady?” Adar asked as he straightened his back and stood up. “I shall go to my children and answer their questions about the attack,” he said.

“I have nothing else to do, it seems, my Lord,” you sighed and leaned back on the chair as you watched him approaching the way out of the tent. “Unless…” You stopped him and he turned his head around. “Unless you would not mind my company. I am curious about the attack myself,” you added. “I am your wife,” you reminded him. “Your equal. I wish to stand by you always instead of hiding away in tents, camps and woods; left in the darkness of not knowing what is happening around me. I have never wished to be this kind of woman,” you stood up as if you were challenging him.

“You take matters into your own hands,” Adar commented. “I have seen that already back in Ostirith. You may join me, wife,” he emphasised the last word and it sounded a bit like mockery but you also spotted a hint of affection.

He extended his hand carefully towards you, still remembering how you had flinched before but this time you were in full control of your body, so you approached him, although instead of taking his hand, you put yours on his arm like a viper snake tightening its hold around the victim.

But your victim was powerful and treacherous, therefore you had to be the most cautious.

Adar deciding to attack in the evening of the next day only prolonged the anxious anticipation. You had never taken a part in any battle of this sort before.

When you had told your husband that you had never wanted to be this kind of woman – hiding away and waiting – that had been a lie. You had been like this with Sauron whenever he had been scheming and plotting somewhere. All you had been doing was warming up the bed for him. And whenever he had been back… He had been the most hungry and thirsty for you. That was all you had been caring about with Sauron. That, and to become his Queen.

But the cruel fate had taken your lover away from you and now it was time to prove your love and devotion to him. To help him – as simple as it was. You would bring the army of the Orcs to him and you would destroy your own realm for him on the way if you had to.

Sauron had always been quite… chatty. He had not only been drowning you with the countless affections and sweet words but he had also been sharing lots of his plans with you while playing with your hair or caressing the curves of your body. And perhaps he had been thinking that you had not been listening to any of it but it was not true. You had been a devoted listener.

And you knew his plan for the Southlands was to take over these lands and to make them his own terrifying realm. You knew his plans for your home were the most horrific and yet you liked the idea of ruling Middle-earth from the ruins of your homeland. It would be a symbol for you – a purge of the Southlands and Ostirith – your personal prison being turned into ashes and you becoming the Queen of them.

However horrific it would be, you knew it would not matter. You would rule alongside your lover and that was all you needed. You could be his Queen in the most precious gemstones and you could be his Queen in rags. You could rule over the beautiful Elves and you could rule over the filthy Orcs and it made no difference to you. What mattered was being by his side and getting intoxicated with his love and his worship.

Thinking of Sauron fondly, you wondered if you should try to wear your tempting nightgown again for this night as the sounds of the partying Orcs were reaching you from the outside of the tent. But then you thought that perhaps the nightgown had the opposite effect on Adar who simply did not like seeing you trying to seduce him. So, you just stripped yourself down to an underdress and rested on the bed, looking bored as you played with the necklace around your neck.

When Adar entered the tent, he tilted his head at the sight of you and then he sighed, sitting by the table and opening the notes from the scouts that had been waiting for him.

You kept observing him from the corner of your eye but he seemed to be uninterested in you, so you rolled your eyes and looked away. For a man claiming to be so lonely, he was also very cold. And you knew that in the eyes of the Valars, you were still unwed because the marriage was not consummated. However, you did not want to push him into anything because it could cause his mistrust and anger.

“I am scared of my uncertain position here,” you finally admitted and he froze before turning around to look at you, confused, still holding the piece of paper in his hand.

“What do you mean, my Lady? You are my wife,” he shook his head.

“No, I am not… yet,” you swallowed thickly and squeezed the pendant of your necklace in your hand.

You had no idea how to seduce sexually or convince him to join you in bed because Sauron had never taught you any of this – he had always been an eager lover.

Adar sighed and left the table to sit on the edge of the bed as he looked down at you. He extended his hand to brush your cheeks with his fingertips and then he allowed his hand to go lower to your chest, which was rising up and down in the pace that was going quicker now. In that moment, you could see clearly in his eyes that he desired you, so you could not understand why he was stopping himself from going further.

“Is it because of something Morgoth had done to you?” You asked, trying to sound gentle and hoping it would not anger him.

“No,” Adar shook his head with a very gentle hint of a smile. “It is because you do not want it willingly,” he admitted and retreated his hand. “When I agreed to marry you, I knew you were being forced by your father. You could have been assuring me that you wanted it but I knew you were only doing it for your mother and now, when she is safe, you are doing it to ensure your own position,” he kept explaining and you couldn’t help being surprised.

He was one of the most dangerous people you had ever met and surely one of the most brutal and yet he refused to harm his own wife in any way even if it was not love that had bonded you two but loneliness and the shared rot of the soul.

“Do you know that arranged marriage is against the Elven customs?” Adar asked with a sad smile.

“We are going against all Elven customs, haven’t you noticed, my Lord?” You swallowed thickly and lifted yourself up on your elbows.

“You are wearing my ring and I am wearing yours. We are wed for eternity no matter what,” Adar stood up to leave the edge of your bed. “And eternity is a long time for you to eventually warm yourself up to the idea of sharing your bed with me. And if not, I shall survive,” he shrugged his arms. “There is more to life than the pleasure of the flesh.”

You opened your mouth to say something – anything – and to deny his words, to keep tempting him somehow. But Adar interrupted you and saved you from any further embarrassment.

“Speaking of survival, I have something for you. Gifts,” Adar pointed at the chest that had been put inside the tent not so long ago by one of the Orcs but you had been ignoring it until now.

“I did not expect you to be a husband who would spoil his wife with gifts,” you tried to tease as you sat up fully now and watched him open the chest.

“These are not traditional gifts by any means,” Adar warned you and he approached the bed again to hand you a slim and beautifully ornamented dagger, made of black metal.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of it. In fact, it nearly made you sick and you tried very hard not to show how much this item had affected your senses.

It was Sauron’s dagger; the one he had been carrying with him most of the time. Adar had to take it away from him alongside the crown when he had murdered your beloved. You knew that dagger – you had been watching Sauron with it countless of times. And Sauron himself had been using it on you many times before to increase the pleasure of your intimate moments. That dagger meant the world to you and to hold it in your hand was like holding the hand of your lover again after all those centuries of separation and yearning.

“I-it is beautiful,” you stuttered out and took it, trying to compose yourself.

“You seem to be uneasy,” Adar furrowed his brow and you quickly came up with an excuse as you looked up at him with a trembling lower lip.

“It is of great beauty but I can sense a tremendous darkness within it,” you explained.

“It belonged to Sauron,” Adar admitted. “If it is too corrupted for you, I can take it from you and have a custom one made,” he assured you.

“I can handle it,” you shook your head and squeezed your hand around the blade’s hilt. “It was just a slight disturbance when I first touched it,” you answered. “Thank you, that gift is very thoughtful, my husband,” you forced a smile and Adar sighed with relief. He extended his hand to gently grab your chin and caress your cheek before he walked away to the chest once again.

And when he turned around one more time, you gasped once again at the sight of a black breastplate. It was Elven – you recognised the ornaments in the shapes of leaves immediately.

“It belonged to one of the Elves we killed on the way. We collect their armour to later transform the pieces into the items we find useful but this breastplate I ordered to paint black since it might suit your size,” Adar admitted. “You march with the army and you need to be protected from the blades and arrows of our enemies,” Adar placed the breastplate on the chair next to the bed but you already stood up, all ready to wear it and see for yourself.

He assisted you in putting it on and you had no mirror to see how you looked, so you had to rely on his opinion on it.

“And?” You asked, excitedly.

“I think it fits you well, my Lady,” Adar nodded and you smiled widely at him. “And I see the gifts do please you.”

“Of course they do. So far, the books have been my weapons, but this feels quite empowering,” you admitted and tried to get a glimpse of your appearance in the reflection of your dagger’s blade.

Sauron had only been gifting you jewellery, dresses and nightgowns that later would end up torn or cut up with this very dagger. Sometimes, he had given you a book when he had wanted you to study it for him to help him expand his knowledge. And as much as you loved being spoiled and worshipped by him in this way, you also found it very dignifying to receive gifts of this sort from your husband.

“I want my wife to be respected not only because of being my spouse but because of who she is on her own. I want the whole Middle-earth to see the Dark Lady that you are,” Adar confessed in the Quenya language while he stood behind you and you felt his hands on your hips as he leaned in to whisper into your ear. You watched his distorted reflection in the blade of your dagger and in that moment, you swore, you truly wanted him and it scared you because it could mean that it was not Sauron whom you loved but the promise of power he had been presenting you with.

You felt the small amount of pain from squeezing the blade too tightly and it brought you back to reality. You shook these thoughts off and took a deep breath in. Of course you loved Sauron – you loved everything about him. Every inch of you craved and missed him to the point that you ended up caressing the hilt of the dagger for the whole night long, trying to feel the remains of his fingertips.

You have observed the fire of the burning villages from the Ostirith’s watchtower but now you were experiencing the Orcs’ havoc for the first time personally, walking into burning Tirharad alongside your husband. Dead human bodies scattered under your feet while the rooftops of the houses burnt as the Orcs kept destroying everything on their way as if they were in a frenzy, chanting the word nampat.

You were wearing your new breastplate over your black dress and you had the dagger attached to it on your hip in case you needed it but there were no humans around anymore even though they had to fight bravely since the ground was also full of the dead bodies of the Orcs.

You were careful with your steps and it felt as if you watched the scene in slow motion – in a way, you were alone in the middle of this small hell. You let Adar walk past you as your own pace slowed down. Those were the lands your father had been the guardian of. Now they were burning and you only watched.

No, you didn’t just watch. You participated in it. You had brought death to the village of Tirharad.

“Is that what you wish to be?” You joined your husband’s side again. “The King of ashes?” You asked.

“I do not wish to be a King,” he remarked, “and my children do prefer the ashes.”

You joined the Orcs that were trying to get inside the tavern where the remaining villagers seemed to be hiding and they had barricaded themselves. However, it was only a matter of time when the Orcs would finally be able to open the wooden doors.

You felt a thrill of anticipation and excitement when they succeeded. You were not quite sure what was the item your husband was seeking – as much as he trusted you with some things and had even shown you the crown of Morgoth, he also kept some information hidden from you.

You took a step ahead but Adar’s hand stopped you from walking further by taking you by your wrist as the Orcs ran inside, attacking the villagers.

“Do not rush, my Lady,” he scolded you gently. “Let my children take them over first. You would make an easy target,” he pointed out and even though his words hurt your pride a little, you knew he was right and he had only done it to protect you.

You nodded your head at him and you waited a moment before Adar let go of your hand and walked inside the tavern. You could hear how quiet it got and you understood why since he had that effect on people. You took a deep breath in and straightened your back before following him, ready to face all those humans and make your appearance as Adar’s Dark Lady for the first time in public.

But when you walked inside, there was only one person that you could keep your eyes on as you gasped quietly at the sight of him. He was being held by two Orcs and his eyes widened at the sight of you, too.

“Arondir…” You whispered his name. “I thought you were dead,” you admitted.

He had not returned from one of his scouting missions and that had been one of many such cases lately when the Orcs had overtaken these lands. You all had mourned him already in Ostirith and you personally had been very sad about him in particular because you considered him to be one of your closest friends inside the fortress.

“My Lady…” Arondir was clearly confused to see you like this. “I thought the same of you when we watched Ostirith fall,” he admitted. “I have mourned you.”

“And I have mourned you, old friend,” you nodded at him and you stood next to Adar. You finally looked at the other faces and they kept staring at you with terror.

They knew you. You did not know them but they knew about you. Your father had been no King but he had been the protector and the guardian of these lands and you were his only daughter – a beautiful Elven maiden walking around the forests or riding her horse through this realm, sometimes talking to its habitants on the way. You were a part of their stories and myths, their songs and their legends and in their eyes you were a Princess.

Now, they could not comprehend why you were standing next to the man who was the very reason of their doom.

However, no one dared to ask any question. Not even Arondir and you just knew he had to be dying of curiosity to know what had happened. Just like you were pretty curious to find out why he had never made it back to Ostirith, which seemed to had been his own choice.

In the meantime, after observing your interaction with Arondir, Adar approached him slowly, staring at your friend with the most intensity.

“What I seek. Give it to me,” Adar said in the Quenya language.

“Let them go. I will consider it,” Arondir answered in the same speech and no trace of fear was spotted upon his face. You knew that your husband would not get whatever he wanted easily because you knew Arondir and you were aware of his stubborn and courageous nature. You were afraid it would lead him to his death now and that was the loss you would grieve surely, especially after witnessing it with your own eyes.

Suddenly, you started to think that, perhaps, being this kind of woman – who would stay behind and wait… Perhaps it would be better. Perhaps Sauron had been protecting your innocence and your fragility when he had not been taking you with him anywhere. Perhaps he had not wanted anything else except for him to corrupt you.

Adar nodded his head at the Orcs and the ones who had human villagers at the ends of their blades began to use their weapons and kill these poor people.You tried your best to remain unbothered by it but your heart pounded inside of your chest. You could see some of the people who were exclaiming in fear were also looking up to you to help them but you could not. You could not risk this fragile thread of trust that connected you with your husband.

And, unfortunately to them, no human life was worthy enough for you to risk ruining your plans to help Sauron in the end of all of this. They had to die, so the greater thing could emerge from it later. The Dark Lord who would heal all Middle-earth. Their sacrifice would be the most appreciated then.

“Why sacrifice their life for such a little thing?” Adar asked and in that moment once again you were confused by how cruel this man could be – the very same man who refused to touch you just to make sure everything between you two was consensual.

That made you feel special.

More people kept dying and Arondir screamed in anger into Adar’s face, then he looked at you, awaiting any reaction but there was none even though your eyes had to betray you a little bit and show some pain.

“Arondir, please,” you stepped in. “Just cooperate,” you tried to reason with him. “For the sake of our friendship.”

“I am no friend of yours!” Arondir spat out and even though his reaction was the most understandable, it stung your heart and angered you.

You had never been able to handle rejection very well. The pain and compassion in your eyes turned into rage in a very brief moment. Sauron had always found your mood switches of this sort very endearing.

Adar turned around and spotted a wounded woman laying down with the blade pressed to her neck. She was oddly calm in the middle of this bloody chaos.

“The woman next,” Adar ordered and these three words seemed to have a very strong effect on Arondir. He screamed and grunted, trying to get out as the Orcs holding him struggled to keep him steady.

“No!” Some young boy shouted, most likely that woman’s son.

But you focused on Arondir as you smirked. So, it was love that had kept him away from Ostirith. It was love that had caused him to not come back. And it was love for a human to make it even more romantic in the cheapest way.

You had always heard stories of the Elves falling for the humans but you had never understood any of them. Why would any Elf fall for a creature so weak…? You were quite the opposite – you loved a Maia; nearly a God – and you often wondered what he had seen in you… a common Elf.

“Wait!” The young boy shouted at the Orc who raised his hand to strike the final blow upon the woman’s neck.

“No!” Arondir screamed at the boy and you raised an eyebrow.

“It’s under here,” the boy confessed, desperate to save his mother and Arondir looked at him with terror in his eyes. “It’s under here.”

“No…” Arondir whispered at this betrayal.

“Elves do love differently than humans,” you explained to the boy. “He might love your mother but he will still sacrifice her – and this whole village – for this one magic item,” you pointed out with mockery. “He does not understand why none of this matters to you. You just want to save your mother, am I right, boy?” You asked him and approached him as Arondir shot you a deadly glance.

But, in a way, you did not have to fake much of that compassion towards the boy. You knew what it was like to love your mother and to try to save her no matter the cost.

The boy nodded at you and you nodded at the Orc standing behind him to let him go. So he did and the boy grabbed the tool that would help him to get to the item.

“Theo!” Arondir called his name.

“I’m sorry,” the boy named Theo whispered and pried one of the stones that the floor of the tavern was made of.

Arondir kept grunting and trying to get out of the Orcs’ hold but they were stronger than him. Adar crouched down to get the small thing covered in dirty rags out of the hole under the stone as you stood above him and looked down with curiosity. When he opened it, a sword’s hilt was revealed and it had been forged in the same fashion as Sauron’s dagger or Morgoth’s crown. You could feel its dark magic as an ominous feeling sent a shiver down your spine.

Then, the loud rumbling reached your ears and you all furrowed your brows at the sound. You realised it was coming from the many horses going your way from afar. Someone was coming with an army to help the people of Tirharad.

You were scared at first. Scared of such a quick defeat. If it was an army of the Elves, your whole scheme would be over before it had even started. On the other hand, considering the fact you had been married to Adar for a few days, you could still save yourself by putting on a show of sobbing and explaining to the High King how much your awful father had been forcing you to become a part of this union. Perhaps he would believe you but you were scared of Gil-galad the most because he was so pure and made of such strong light that he would surely see through you immediately.

In such a case, it was very beneficial that your marriage at least had not been consummated.

Adar grabbed you by the sleeve of your dress and walked you out of the tavern. You could sense he was nervous as well and you two nearly bumped into Glûg standing in front of the building, anxiously waiting for his Lord Father to tell him the worrying news.

“The army is coming, Lord Father. We do not know yet who–” he started.

“I have a task for you,” Adar ignored him as he turned around to face you and Glûg shut his mouth as he looked down.

“What is it?” You asked, trembling slightly. The rumbling sound coming from the distance was growing louder as your anxiety was rising.

“You will go back to Ostirith and use your blood to extend the sword. There is a crevice – you know which one; Ostirith was your home. You have to insert the sword inside and twist it,” Adar handed you the hilt, still covered in the dirty rags.

You took it from him but you were out of words as you kept staring at him. He had to be desperate to give you out of all people such a task.

“That will open the dam,” you shook your head. “I do not understand.”

“Do it,” Adar insisted and clenched his jaw, staring at you intensely. “This way, you get to finish what I started and you get to be safe, away from the battlefield. You have no time to lose. Glûg will go with you,” he looked at at the Orc. “Look after my wife, Glûg.”

The Orc nodded at you, visibly proud of the job he was given.

You were still unsure of the whole thing, clenching the sword hilt covered in rags in your hands but you saw an opportunity of getting out of danger that was coming. However, when you looked at Adar, you realised it could be the last time you were seeing him alive and for some reason it made you sad a little bit. He was a mysterious man and you hoped to get to know some of his secrets before you would get back with Sauron.

“Are you sure you trust me with such a task?” You asked. He looked like it was a very important job to do and he cared deeply about it being done properly.

“I do not have many I can trust,” he only said.

“Clearly,” you answered and took a deep breath in before looking at Glûg. You nodded at him and you both ran away as fast as possible towards the woods.

MASTERLIST

#adar x reader #sauron x reader #annatar x reader #halbrand x reader #lilysfiction

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thedovesaredying · 8 months ago

Text

Flames of Green | CoD x GoT/HotD | Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader x John "Soap" MacTavish | Part 1.

Artwork by Elizabeth

You're the heir to the Iron Throne, the eldest child of the current king with the blood of the Targaryens flowing through your veins. Unfortunately, you're due to be married off to a mysterious Northern lord by the name of John MacTavish. At least your closest friend and member of your guard, Simon Riley, will be by your side throughout it all.

A/N: I'm back in my House of the Dragon era, so I'm mixing hyperfixations. The Cannibal doesn't get enough love, he's a nasty bastard and he deserves to cause some chaos. It will eventually be a Ghost x Reader x Soap relationship and likely a bit of a slowburn. Literally just for my own entertainment, but I hope y'all enjoy.

Warnings: None

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

It’s times like this that you mourn the loss of your youth. Forced to sit in silence while discussions are held by old men around a table, weighing up the advantages and disadvantages of your future marriage to every potential high lord in Westeros. Your opinion is never considered, let alone asked for by any of your father’s advisors, your compliance expected regardless.

If you had been born a man you could have your pick of any woman in the kingdom to take as a wife, but instead, you’re forced to simply accept whatever man is placed in front of you. Such is the burden of being the princess and heir to House Targaryen. You will be made to give up the right to rule the kingdom to the high lord assigned to you, never to touch the ever-elusive Iron Throne that should have been yours by right.

You had never really taken the prospect of marriage too seriously in your youth, always considering it a problem for the you of the future to deal with. You didn’t care to forge lasting alliances with other ladies and lords, too busy dragging your poor best friend, Simon, through the gardens and dirtying your extravagant dresses.

But those days were over.

Talk of wedding a powerful lord and bringing forth the next line of Targaryen children is all that fills your ears now. You’re forced to entertain every man, young and old, that wishes to gain your favour with a polite smile and feigned interest. You don’t even have your dear Simon to offer you his companionship and a break from the cruel realities of the world. No doubt he would have entertained you with his dry remarks about each man set before you.

It has been years since you last saw Simon. He was taken from the Red Keep by his father and sent to squire for another lord in the hopes of teaching him the art of warfare. Lord Riley was a foul man, constantly berating his son for spending his time with the Princess rather than roughhousing with his fellow boys. He considered the boy too soft and squeamish at the sight of blood to make a good future lord of their keep.

You disagreed, of course, Simon was perfect just the way he was; gentle and kind to all those around him. Your friend couldn’t hurt a fly, but he was still one of the bravest people you knew.

You dread to think just how much he would have hated being drawn into battles, forced to kill other men with his own hands. The letters he occasionally wrote to you always steered clear of depicting the violence you were certain he must have been subjected to, but you’re far from naive enough to hope he has yet to participate in any bloodshed. As the years dragged on, word from him has grown scarce, however, to the point where you can hardly remember when you heard from him last.

What you do know, is that he had been sent to offer assistance in maintaining peace throughout the Stepstones, killing raiders and pirates that would endanger trade routes to King’s Landing.

But that was almost six months ago, and there has been little else to soothe your vexed nerves over his safety. He had made a promise to you the day he left, that once his training was done he would return to your side, this time as a knight who would offer himself to your Queen’s Guard once the time was right. Never again would he leave you, more than happy to forfeit the ruling of his own homeland if it meant he could keep you safe.

You had clung to that promise every day for years after his departure, but with each passing moment it become harder to hold out hope of seeing him again. After all, what is one promise between children in the grand scheme of things?

It’s a blessing when you’re finally relieved from the meeting, escaping from the suffocating air within the council chambers and fleeing to the safety of your room. You don’t even pause to ensure one of your guards is following you, getting straight to stripping from your dress and replacing it with your riding gear.

As the carriage carries you away from the city and toward the Dragon Pit your nerves begin to settle. The constant odour of sweat and excrement quickly gives way to fresh air the further away you get. It’s a beautiful day, with hardly a cloud in the sky and wildflowers blooming all along the road. It’s a genuine shame that your day has started so poorly, otherwise you’d have loved to wander the palace gardens and enjoy the midday sun.

The ground is rocky outside of the dragon pit, and you’re jostled around a bit until the carriage comes to a stop. Although this is your destination, the dragon you seek is not here. Your dragon is far too large to be housed within the Pit.

Unlike your younger sister, you were not blessed by the Gods to have your dragon egg hatch while you were in the cradle. All throughout your childhood you sat next to it and prayed for the hatchling to come forth, promising you would care for the creature and love it more than anything. But the baby dragon never arrived.

Many said that it was a sign from the Gods, that you were unfit to be the heir if even your own dragon refused to hatch for you. It was a heavy sentence hanging around your neck, weighing you down and making you feel as though you are worthless, despite the fact you have more power than most of the people laughing at your situation.

None of them are laughing now.

You see your dragon stretched out atop one of the nearby ridges. He’s so large that his wings and tail drape over the edge of the rocks, entirely unconcerned by the humans fearfully gathered beneath him as he snoozes away in the warmth of the sun. His scales are like coal, absorbing every ray of sunshine that he can.

The Cannibal may not be as large as Vhagar, but he’s far older and, as many would argue, far meaner than the old girl. Where most dragons have vibrant, golden eyes, you’re greeted by a pair of sinister green the moment you draw near. His go-to reaction to most things is aggression, and you’ve seen many people meet their end in a blast of emerald flame for merely disturbing him.

It’s for that precise reason you’re stunned to see someone standing beside the grumpy old beast. There’s only one person other than yourself who could get anywhere near the Cannibal without immediately being swallowed whole. The man pauses his rubbing of your dragon’s scales the moment he sees you, only to earn a displeased whack from the Cannibal’s snout. You bite your lip to force down the grin that’s threatening to spread across your face when the man drops down to one knee, his head bowed respectfully.

“Lord Riley,” you nod, “I do believe that’s my dragon you’re touching.” That earns a groan from the Cannibal, his massive head twisting away from you both, as though already bored of the conversation.

“A thousand apologies, princess,” Simon grins, his eyes sparkling with mirth, “your dragon was growing impatient.” The dragon in question huffs, his tail twitching like an agitated cat.

Simon looks so different from the last time you saw him. He’s both taller and broader, completely filled out with muscles. When he stands again, you’re face to face with the rather intimidating bone mask adorning his face. You’re not certain if it’s real bone, but at that moment you could have cared less, throwing yourself at the large man.

He catches you easily, holding you tightly against his larger body. It’s entirely improper and if anyone other than your guards witnessed such an interaction there would no doubt be whispers abound. Perhaps it’s a good thing Simon decided to meet you somewhere so private.

“When did you get back?” you ask, leaning back just long enough to look him in the eye.

“We docked late last night,” he answers, and you can feel the way his chest rumbles with each word. His deep voice soothes something within you, your stress dissipating like mist at dawn. “We received word that the King’s Guard now has an open position,” he continues, and then much to your shock adds, “I’m here to fill that position.”

You pull away from him almost completely, only your hands still gently curled around his gauntlets, “but I heard that your father was recently taken ill, don’t you need to return home?”

While the mask hides the majority of Simon’s face, you can still see the way the skin around his eyes crinkles slightly, “I made a promise to serve my future Queen,” he takes your hand from his arm and presses the back of your palm to where his lips are beneath his mask, “if you’ll have me, princess.”

You can feel your face burning with the intensity with which Simon stares at you. “I’m certain my father will be delighted to have such a well-regarded warrior in his service,” you smile, gently pulling your hands away from the knight, despite the urge to keep holding onto him.

Before you can continue the conversation, the Cannibal turns his head back to your again, nudging at you with an irritated huff. His breath is scalding against your skin, yet it doesn’t burn you, thankfully. You place your hand against the beast’s snout, feeling the thick scales shift under your leather gloves. “Gīda,” you coo to the dragon, waiting until he lowers his wing to the floor to provide you with a way to climb onto his back. He’s far too large for you to mount the same way you would a younger dragon.

Once settling into the Cannibal’s saddle, you grin down at your friend, “I look forward to seeing you in the keep, my lord.” You only have the time to see Simon’s quick nod, before your dragon is leaping from the edge of the ridge, forcing an end to your conversation. You can feel his clear exasperation through your bond and ensure to give the old dragon a scratch to the neck.

#writing #call of duty modern warfare #reader insert #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #game of thrones #house of the dragon #crossover

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bunnithebard · 5 months ago

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Through the Walls

A/N: So sorry about the radio silence!! But I'm going to double post to try and make up for the long break so those that are interested in where this little blurb goes can still enjoy my ramblings! Thank you dearies!

**Just a reminder that I'm moving from my other account (bunni3thebard) to this one, so that I can have more independence from my random trash account that's just an amalgamation of memes I enjoy lol–also, I can't remember who made the page break bats, so if you may know send me their name and I can at them accordingly. I just saved it on my phone one day cause I thought it was neat!**

Title: Through the Walls

Vampire!Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: You’ve been in Hawkins for almost a year now. It was nice, an escape from painful memories and a way to start fresh. After so long isolating yourself, you decide that it’s time to make friends, get to know someone so you’re not so alone. One of those friends happened to be your Cryptid Neighbor.

Chapter 1: Silent Scream

[Masterlist] [Chapter 2]

Your neighbor was a cryptid.

At least, you were convinced they were.

You knew someone lived there because of the lights that would come on and off, and the shadow figures moving behind the curtains. Not to mention that the walls were thin as fuck, so you heard them watch TV and play guitar and listen to metal music obscenely loud during the midnight hours.

But even though they kept the same crazy hours you did, you've never seen hide nor hair of them.

You started to make theories about what kind of person they were. Like that they were a burn out whose parents paid for everything for them so they didn't work, just farted around all day–hence the 4am jam sessions.

Another theory that had struck you one night while working a double at the Hawkins ER was that they were a drug lord and had to keep odd hours to evade the police.

But you wrote off that theory since you'd thought it up while sleep deprived after an 18 hour shift.

You entertained the idea of a squatter, but then why would they have electricity?

You had finally come to the conclusion that you were lonely as fuck and you obsessed over the identity of your mysterious neighbor because you were long deprived of human companionship and thus you hyperfixated on a superficial meaningless thing to distract yourself from being alone.

Or maybe they were Mothman…

Thankfully the grocery store kept late hours on the weekend, and that's where you found yourself on your free Saturday night. You'd woken up naturally around seven pm, even though your alarm was set for nine, and decided to putter around your house until your alarm went off so you could feel like you were properly lazy.

You sat contemplating cereals for a few meandering seconds, sure your eyes were blinking at an astronomically slow pace. You'd smoked a bowl to help you sleep and felt like it hadn't completely left you. You just hoped your eyes weren't red.

Grunting, you shoved both boxes into your cart and turned to move on to the next aisle when you crashed into someone else's cart. "Shit." You hissed below your breath, rubbing your stomach where the handle of the cart had roughly jabbed into you.

"Damn, sorry about that!"

Looking up you met the soft face of a brunette woman who looked about your age with her hair pulled back into a messy bun and long-sleeve black shirt falling off one of her thin shoulders exposing her bra strap. She gave you a sheepish smile and you shrugged.

"No harm no foul, although if you do it again I'll take it personally and make no bones about it: I will cry." She snorted, making you grin in triumph.

"Don't worry. I don't make it a habit of accosting people in the grocery store." She pulled her cart back from yours.

You hummed, "Good to know I'll be a one-and-done hit-and-run."

Her smile was cute. She had a strong jaw with a petite nose that scrunched up adorably as she grinned.

"I'm Nancy." She'd offered her hand.

You hesitated.

It had been a while since you'd earnestly interacted with someone outside of transactional exchanges, like for work or buying things or paying bills. People were messy. Maybe it was the paranoia from your past–trauma you couldn't shake that clung to you like a second skin–but you'd been wary of making friends on the off chance your name gets around and spreads to corners of places you didn't want it to go.

It was ridiculous. Narcissistic in a way.

So you ground your teeth and mustered a smile hoping it looked genuine and shook her hand.

You stood outside staring at the moon for a while dressed in nothing but a size 8XL shirt you snagged from Wal-Mart cause it was soft. You knew you should smoke inside, no telling when someone might rat you out to the cops, but the moon was full and the stars were bright. You weren't used to how clear the sky was in comparison to the city, even after a year.

Your eyelids fluttered, vision hazy as the weed worked its magic.

Nancy had invited you to some neighborhood get-together next week that was popular in Hawkins. Said she hadn't seen you around before and was surprised you'd survived a year without becoming the talk of the town. You blew out a heavy stream of smoke, humming to yourself thoughtfully.

But that had been the point, right?

Keep a low profile, stay hidden.

Sighing, you took another deep drag of your joint, holding the burning breath as tight as you could. You watched the stars dance in your vision before you finally exhaled.

God you were fucking lonely, though.

You scrubbed at your head, mussing up your hair. Curiosity was easy to take hold in your high state, so you peered towards your neighbors apartment and saw a shadow in front of the curtains. You squinted, eyeing the light blue fabric for a while since your vision was blurry. You could've sworn you saw a sliver of it be pulled aside with tentative fingers. You blinked slowly, sighing heavy through your nose and mumbled to yourself, "Fucking bigfoot in there for sure."

Turning back around to your apartment door you sucked in the last bit of the joint and dropped the roach to the ground, bending over to squish it with a rock to make sure it was out. Standing with a groan, you walked barefoot back to your front door. You were like, 90% sure the complex was just repurposed from an old Motel 6, but it was cheap and they sprayed for bugs every Tuesday, so you didn't complain.

It was small, enough space for your bed with a loveseat to watch your shitty TV that sat on top of your dresser and a micro kitchen they built in the corner next to the door for the bathroom. There was no kitchen sink and the fridge was half-size, but you were one person so you didn't quite care enough to complain. You did wish the fridge drawers were a bit bigger so they didn't catch on all the food packages you shoved in there.

Maybe it was because you were high, or lonely–or maybe a combination of the two–but you slid your hand across the wall that connected your apartment to your cryptid neighbor's. Then you tapped the starting notes for "Shave and a Haircut". You waited a breath, not sure if they had even heard it.

But then there it was: "Two Bits".

You grinned, giggling like Scooby Doo as you danced over to your bed, throwing yourself down with a bounce on the cheap twin.

Since you had smoked, sleep came easy. You were lulled into dream after weird dream courtesy of Miss Mary Jane. There was one where you went grocery shopping with Bigfoot and another where you went on Jerry Springer because you were pregnant with Mothman's baby.

You were curious what kind of cryptid your neighbor was.

The neighborhood block party was, for all intents and purposes, a Hawkins bash.

Apparently it was a pretty regular affair every few months: a potluck with a few dad's who wheeled their grills to the end of a large cul-de-sac to cook up some burgers and dogs, some artsy fartsy mom's who made crafts for the younger kids to do, and sparklers and poppers for the older kids to get into mischief with.

There were maybe fifteen to twenty adults and a smattering of an equal number of kids.

You had brought a shitty box of cookies from a bakery a few blocks away from the hospital since you couldn't cook anything on your extra small stove. You also had switched shifts with Beverly–fucking ray of sunshine she was, grunting and groaning about working on a Saturday night, but you had taken her Sunday so she could get bent–so that you could be here, at this lovely affair.

You were starting to have regrets.

You watched a few pre-teens wave sparklers around in glee, making to poke and prod one another with the burning end. You wondered if you should step in, knowing that there were some second degree burns waiting to happen, but a random mom came over and grabbed each kid's wrists in warning. You slunk away to the food table.

You set your meager contribution down and turned to eye all the adult women, trying to find your potential petite new friend.

They all had their hair done up in that style where their bangs spiraled out in delicate feathering with the ends curled towards their shoulders. Some had simple ponytails decorated with hair bands and colorful scrunchies. You ran your fingers through your hair self-consciously; you hadn't done anything, merely brushed it and hoped for the best as you donned your nicest pair of jeans and a thrifted Van Halen '79 tour shirt. You figured since it would be outside the party would be a casual thing, but the dresses and blouses these housewives wore made you think you were a little unprepared for the mandatory 'Sunday Best' dress code.

You fiddled with the ends of your shirt.

You contributed to the sacrificial neighborhood potluck, maybe the Gods will be pleased enough to let you leave without seeing Nancy.

You turned to make a break for it and nearly bowled over the brunette in question.

Cookies were not a good enough sacrifice.

Her smile was bright and her blue eyes lit up at seeing you. "Hey, you made it!" She went in to hug you and you tensed, locking your arms to your side in the world's most awkward exchange of physical affection.

She gave a nervous smile and pulled away, "Sorry, too soon for hugs?" Her chuckle was used to try and break the tension and you were grateful as you laughed along.

"No, it's just–I uh… haven't really hung out with anyone for a while, so I guess I'm just getting back into the swing of how friendship works." You shrugged, rubbing the back of your neck.

Her eyes sparkled at your admission of seeing her as a potential friend. She grabbed your hand and pulled you over to a small group that hung around the edges of the block party.

The first one you noticed was a taller Hispanic man with the most beautiful hair you had ever seen in your life. It was lustrous and hung past his hips, swaying gently with his movements. He smiled, eyes half-lidded but sweet, giving you a gentle nod as Nancy motioned to the group, giving your name.

"This is Argyle," she pointed at the man with the incredible hair.

"Robin," next was a thin, lanky woman with messy dirty blonde hair that hung a little past her chin. She had a dusting of freckles across her nose and a charming crooked smile. She wiggled her fingers in a sweet hello.

"Steve," the man next to Robin was broad-shouldered with a just as square jaw line. His eyes were slightly turned down at the ends, giving him this sweet puppy-dog stare matched with a megawatt smile. He had some random freckles and moles that decorated across his face and the visible areas of his arms that made him look a lot younger. He nodded to you, giving a weird wink that you were sure was supposed to come off as charming, but was mildly unsettling.

"And my husband, Jonathan!" The last guy had a small upturned nose with a low brow that was covered by messy strands of mousy brown hair. He gave a shy smile, nodding to you while bouncing lightly. Over his shoulders he had a baby vest strapped to him and a very crabby looking baby facing outwards. Their face was scrunched up, looking more like a potato than a child, and they had wispy brown hair that was stuck up wildly like their head had been rubbed with a balloon.

Nancy smiled proudly, tickling the cheek of the child that gave a low, annoyed hum for an impressively long amount of time. "And this is Eliza, my daughter."

You gave a pinched smile, waving awkwardly. "Hey."

"'Sup Brosephina," Argyle smiled, offering you his fist. You chuckled, tapping yours against it lightly. "A pleasure to aquaint with you." He stuck his hand back in his pocket, the other holding the neck of a Pabst.

"An enjoyable aquaint with you as well." You rocked awkwardly onto your heels.

Argyle's smile grew and he nodded, "Right on." He laughed.

"Hi," you looked over to Steve who held out his large hand in greeting. You shook it, noting that he was gentle when shaking yours, but gave a squeeze before he released you. His smile was adorable, but he was definitely trying to flirt. You were curious if it was just an unconscious thing, or if he was actually putting in effort. "Nice to meet you."

You gave a soft nod in reply, but before you could fully pull your hand away, Robin shot forward and grabbed it giving you a few firm shakes, "It's really good to meet you, I think I actually saw you a while ago–my girlfriend's daughter broke her arm and I remember you gave us all strawberry Jell-O before we left."

Your eyes widened and you pointed at her with your other hand, "Oh yeah! Dotty! She was freaking adorable. How's her arm?"

Robin's smile was glowing and she squeezed your hand tightly, "She's good, her whole class signed her cast and when she got it off she begged to keep it even though it smelled like old shoes."

You barked out a laugh, unknowingly squeezing Robin's hand back, "Hell yes, that's awesome. A trophy of her triumphs! I recommend a pantyhose sock full of cat litter, it helps a ton with the shoe stink."

Robin's eyes widened and she gave a dramatic gasp, "That's freaking brilliant, oh my god, thank you!"

Jonathan snickered, "You got chronic stinky feet?" He teased, eyes glimmering as he bounced his daughter.

You smirked, dropping Robin's hand and leaning into your hip, "Maybe, or maybe I've learned a thing or two from working with older nurses. But I could also have insanely stinky feet, and now you know my shame."

Everyone laughed and you felt your smile grow, your shoulders relax, and you let yourself feel like you belonged.

You didn't feel so alone anymore.

The block party ended up not being bad. Although, a guy named Andy Barker had tried to hit on you when you went to grab a hot dog ("You like 'em long and juicy, huh"–barf) even though his wife was within eyesight. Nancy had warned you that they often did that: flirt with other people in front of each other to get their partner jealous.

It was absolutely insane, small towners were bonkers.

You had snagged a bag full of cookies for the road, not including those from the bakery you had gone to as they were a little rubbery and sad. Argyle gave you a high five.

"Choice snack Brochacha, need a muchie master to inspire your partaking in said chocolate chunks?" You blinked a few times, unsure of what in the hell he was trying to say.

Jonathan snickered, leaning over to translate, "Do you want some weed with that?"

Needless to say: Argyle was your favorite.

Pocket a little heavier with two freshly rolled "Blunts of Friendship", as Argyle called them, and a couple of sandwich bags full of pilfered cookies, you walked up to your door with a smile.

You had made friends.

It was nice, this feeling. You hadn't been able to know companionship, even platonic ones, in such a long time it was like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Maybe not all the weight, but it was lighter and it felt good to breathe with a little less paranoia pushing you down.

You jiggled the keys into your lock but stopped, turning ever so slightly to look at your neighbor's door. It was a gawdy yellow with a plaquard of gold painted numbers reading "2D" decorating it. The paint on the numbers and the door was chipped in places and faded from natural weathering. You didn't see any shadows in the window and the light wasn't on. It wasn't surprising since the sun was still, technically, out.

It was sunset, the sky lit up by a golden-amber glow that slowly sunk into the royal purple of the evening as it met the horizon. Night would fall soon.

You weren't sure what compelled you, maybe the giddy feeling that came from making new friends, or from having a really good day, but you strolled over to the door and stared at it, feet placed only a few inches away. Looking down at the bags in your hand, you placed one of them against the wall next to the door and sighed.

Nerves were starting to eat at you and you looked at your apartment door that was about ten feet away, then back to 2D's. Sucking in a deep breath for strength, you gathered your bravery and knocked on the door three times before booking it to your door: 2C.

Slamming your door behind you, you kept the lights off and took deep gulping breaths. That was the fastest you'd ever run in your life, you're sure of it.

You slunk to the floor, splaying your legs out in front of you as you caught your breath, thumping your head back against the wood of your own gawdy yellow door. You shut your eyes.

You don't know why in the fuck you decided to dong-dong-ditch some cookies for your cryptid neighbor.

Maybe it was because you had developed a weird relationship with them in your head: mysterious being that occupies the shitty motel-esque apartment next to you that may know your struggles because they keep the same weird hours you do. You had put too much thought into them and they became a being you considered a friend in the fantasy of your mind.

You wanted to include them in the block party.

You had sat there for a good ten minutes, breath caught, and you didn't quite know what to do with yourself now. You didn't want to go to sleep–no matter how fucking tired you were from staying awake during the day–but you were at an impasse of not knowing where to go or what to do.

And that's when you heard it.

"Shave And A Hair Cut".

The smile that spread across your face pushed the apples of your cheeks up so high you could see the tops of them in your vision. You laughed softly, bringing your hand up to the wall and replying.

"Two Bits".

[NEXT CHAPTER]

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #Eddie Munson x reader #kas!eddie #kas!eddie munson #Kas!Eddie Munson x reader #vampire eddie munson #vampire eddie au #Stranger things au #Stranger things reader #stranger things fanfiction

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miguelswifey04 · 1 year ago

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miguel x mexican/black fem! reader

fluff/silly hcs

favorite thing to do together is talk shit/gossip in spanish knowing damn well that the people you’re talking about wouldn’t understand a damn thing in spanish LOL

spanish endearment words! miguel loves to refer to you as “querida, corazón, muñeca (sometimes), mi sol, mi vida, mi alma, mujercita” while you refer to him as “guapo, mi amor, cariño, hombre,”

he loves the way you say his name. it’s like a lullaby to his ears. i think he loves your accent and the way you accentuate his name with love.

he’s surprisingly good at braiding your way when you make him braid your hair before going to bed. well, you sometimes forget that he used to braid his daughter hair a lot…☹️

miguel loves it when you rant to him about anything quite literally anything. whether is about some person you don’t like or a new hyperfixation he will be all ears.

you purposely piss him off…you love when men get mad…you find it funny when miguel is annoyed with you BUT he doesn’t get extremely mad at you. you push it because you wanna see if he would actually get mad at you but surprisingly enough he doesn’t! just annoyed, “stop being annoying y/n.” he says it with a smirk but his voice is dripping with annoyance.

he learned your whole hair care routine. he payed attention when it was your hair wash day. he secretly loves to watch you wash you hair and take note of the different hair products that vest suits your type of hair whether it’s afro, curly, textured, thick you name it.

that’s why when one day you asked him if he could wash your hair, he happily obliged and you were so surprised he knew which products where which and in the specific order that you used them. HE LIKES TO GIVE UU SCALP MASSAGES 💆🏽‍♀️ sometimes you’d end up falling asleep on the sink and he’d wake you up, “okay mi vida, your nap time is over.” he’d make fun of you for falling asleep HAHA

miguel loves loves loves it so much whenever you where long acrylic nails 💅🏽 it’s just something about the way they make your hands adorned and pretty. he’s always grabbing your hands and just awestruck by the artwork done on your nails <3

suggestive: when miguel and you were making out and in the heat of the moment, he hadn’t realized that his claws came out and they were digging into your hips + his fangs were more prominent which grazed against your lips. you jolted from the sharp pain of his claws digging into your skin and he felt really bad. “i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to.” he apologized profusely throughout the day after that because he would never hurt you. of course you told him you didn’t mind it one bit, and that you kinda liked it which left miguel was dumbstruck by it 😭

“please please please!! i wanna see your fangs oh my god, please please please.” you begging him to show you his fangs and he would be reluctant to, “what? no, not here.” obviously he gave in and you we’re literally literally so intrigued by his fangs. you were awestruck and he kind of blushed because of that.

he was invited to your family’s cookout 😭 the black side of your family definitely had fun with him, showing him the good stuff. he fell in love with the food and he could not get enough of your grandma’s cooking. not him dancing to cupid shuffle with your uncles, aunts, and cousins 😭

now of course, your mexican side of the family would invite him to go to trips to mexico with all of you. you can say it was the most chaotic experience in your life BUT SO MUCH FUN!

miguel bonded really well and was fully accepted on both sides of your family. your mom almost fainted when you brought miguel to your house because it’s the first time you bring a good man. your mom knew you had terrible taste in men but when you brought miguel, lord. she was like “¡¡estoy tan feliz de tu novio!! siempre traes hombres feos a mi casa!!” while your dad was just happy you got a good man, finally. “nice to meet you, miguel. i’m sure you’ll make my daughter happy.” miguel happily nodded, “of course, your daughter’s happiness and well-being is my first priority.”

he takes you out on dates a lot…he plans them more than you do, and he always bringing you flowers with every visit. got you a promise ring and vowed to marry you one day (he’s a man of his words) it took him time to figure out his feelings but he did it!

he always encourages to reach for your goals and dream & promises to be by your side through it all, and you promised him you’d help him overcome his past traumas which really made him soft. he always cried when you said :(

lyla loves you!! she exposes his secrets or confessions he had about you, out loud…he gets super embarrassed and red about it, and you just tease him about it. one time it was something suggestive…he literally had to disconnect lyla for A WHILE LMFAO it was awkward as fuck 😭 “miguel um—wow i didn’t know you had that in you..” he looked down at the floor than at you with an embarrassed face gawd did he want to disappear. “well yeah…” he chuckled nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.

…

a/n: if this gets enough reach i’ll make a pt. 2

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a-sociopath-do-your-research · 4 months ago

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Hello Everypony :3

finally doing one of these, lol

💙About me!💜

Welcome to my blog for,,, everything! No sideblogs around here we die like men/j

My name is Oliver, but you can also call me oli! (ive got other names too, but that's the main one, check my pronouns page for the whole list!)

Xe/Void/Fox/It/They pronouns but get silly with it, i dont mind!! (except she/her)

We're a system! We dont talk about it a lot but sometimes it comes up yay!!

important post you should read!

I write and draw tho i am better at writing, lmao

@inky-drawings is my lovely girlfriend whom i love very much<333

@azamonvoid is my sib from another crib whom if i dont see soon heads will start rolling<3

@lmanburgseulogy SUPER AMAZING person (cough im copying part of the intro from bug), also my twin o7

@willthemicrowave AMAZING DUDE. Tem you're super cool

❌DNIs❌

cc!Wilbur and/or cc!Dream Team supporters. If i ever post about them its the characters.

-> also, if you see me reblogging from someone who supports them, please warn me!

Anyone who engages in discourse, esp syscourse. I do not care, let people live. Any interaction about it will be ignored and/or deleted. This isnt the place for it.

People in poppytwt/blr. I understand some people write it or engage in it to cope, but it personally just makes us uncomfortable. Thank you.

Just in general hateful people. Transphobes, terfs, homophobes, misogyinists misandrists ect ect. It is not that hard to leave people alone, and if you can't, get out.

✨ (main) Fandoms!! ✨

Hermitcraft/Life series!! My faves are Grian, Etho, Impulse, Zed, Jimmy and Mumbo (not in that order)

-> i engage in shipping the characters, quite a lot,,, if it makes you uncomfortable this ain't the place for you lol

DSMP! my mains are sbi (especially twinsduo you will always be famous to me,,,,), and sometimes feral boys!

-> i dont care most of those people are problematic now, my au just took a general outline of the smp then rewrote everything. There is barely any connection w/actual canon

SCU/Slimecicle cinematic universe!! Blame @alliumsmybeloved for this/j

Hollow Knight! Quirrel, Hornet, Hollow and Ghost are my faves!

-> nothing much other than i hate the traitor lord with a burning passion, lol

and many, many more!! Including percy jackson, portal, ect - these are just the ones im hyperfixating on the most lately!!

⚠ Terms and conditions? ⚠

I'm ok with flirting but ask first just to be sure!

autistic silly little guy. Sometimes i get too much, feel free to tell me if i exagerate and get weird!

-> be nice about it tho, please,,,

send asks send asks!!! They're so silly i love em<333

i do take requests on doodles, headcanons, snippets ect!! It just takes me a bit sometimes to answer!

I have a dsmp/hermitcraft/qsmp/ect au im working on, my magnum opus/j, go check it out it's @the-caladrius-au RAAHHH

I write about the characters, never the ccs.

💬Tag guide!💬

#Oli talks! -> silly tag for everything of mine, rambles,art, writing, reblogs (sometimes,,,)

#shift talks! -> like the above but for shift, one of our other alters :3

#Olis faves -> fav posts and/or posts i want to look back on!

#Oli writes -> pretty self explanitory, for when i write :3

#Oli draws -> for my art n doodles!

#Mutuals my beloveds -> Moot tag!!! For asks or when i talk with/about my mutuals! (if i forget to put it in a post with you, feel free to tell me!)

#nonnies my beloveds -> anon asks

#Beloveds! -> posts about/with @inky-drawings and/or @azamonvoid

#higgs Field au and #HFAU -> posts about my dsmp x Hermitcraft rewrite au

#the multiverse system -> stuff about our system!

#the horrors saga -> the horrors,,,,,, I just wanna write,,,,

#Twinsduo crumbs -> any and all Twinsduo content because I'm normal about them (lie)

#sillytick -> tag for @cao-tick ::3

-> if i forget to tag things properly feel free to remind me!!!

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Hello Everypony :3

finally doing one of these, lol

💙About me!💜

Welcome to my blog for,,, everything! No sideblogs around here we die like men/j

My name is Oliver, but you can also call me oli! (ive got other names too, but that's the main one, check my pronouns page for the whole list!)

They/It/xe pronouns but get silly with it, i dont mind!! (except she/her)