#moon knight foot anon

[romanarose]

@whatthefishh @missdictatorme and @campingwiththecharmings are starting a SMERE CAMPAIGN against me and you guys need to JUST NOT LISTEN TO THEM

I am not the moon knight foot anon DESPITE THE EVIDENCE STACKED AGAINST ME! ITS PURELY CIRCUMSTANCIAL AND WILL NEVER HOLD UP IN COURT

Do I have a foot fetish. Maybe:

BUT IS THAT A CRIME?!)!(

[my-secret-shame]

Forget thigh riding, it's all about foot riding. 🦶🐎

[whatthefishh]

@my-secret-shame this is the picture that comes to mind

And just in case anyone was wondering @campingwiththecharmings @romanarose @melodygatesauthor @jake-g-lockley

[scarletttries]

Christmas By Myself This Year (Moon Knight Request)

Pairing: Steven Grant x GN!Reader

Rating: Pure fluff, gender neutral pronouns throughout :)

Word Count: 1.9k

Author's Note: My Christmas gift to all the Steven Grant lovers, after I got the sweetest anon request for something along the lines of Steven turning up on your doorstep on Christmas Eve 🥰I hope you are all having the best festive period that you can 💕

Christmas By Myself This Year (Steven Grant Fluff)

"This is great."

You stated each word matter-of-factly to yourself as you put the final bauble on the miniature Christmas tree you'd perched in the middle of your coffee table. You hadn't been planning on decorating this year, part of a promise you made yourself to use your precious few days off to prioritise self-care and ignore all the pressures that usually came with Christmas; family drama, big nights with your friends that left you exhausted, and never enough hours in the day to do something for yourself after looking for everyone else. No, this year you were taking control of your own Christmas and spending it at home, alone. It was going to be perfect, and you had been so proud of yourself when you decided to be alone this holiday period, so when you went out to get everything you needed for your favourite meal and saw some decorations discounted on Christmas Eve you couldn't help but take it as a sign to put up a few little celebratory trinkets.

You'd started with some fairy lights around the windows of your little flat, then popped some colourful baubles on the foot-high tree, now finally the finishing touch. You giggled to yourself as you tied a piece of ribbon to the nail above your front door, a neat bow holding a swinging piece of mistletoe in place. The face that flashed through your mind was that of Steven Grant, a regular at the vegetarian restaurant you worked at, his big brown eyes staring warmly up at you as if you were old friends. As well as being one of your most loyal customers, he was also by far the friendliest, visiting you often at work and talking your ear off in an effort to get to know you better, even going as far as to walk you home one night with an umbrella extended above you both when you forgot your own in the worst of the London weather. He was sweet and shy and awkward, all while being undeniably handsome but completely unaware of it. You realised you were smiling to yourself at the mere thought of the man, shaking your head as you turned your back to the door and wondered if it would break your own Christmas rules to try and bump into him at midnight on new year's eve.

You let the thought ruminate as you threw on a festive playlist and heated up some mulled wine on your stove, grateful for the moment of peace but also quickly feeling the tinge of loneliness in your quiet home. It was a relief to be away from work and family, so why did you keep glancing at the sofa like you were looking at someone? Maybe it was the string of bad dates this year had thrown your way, each one an unmitigated disaster. Or the fact that you'd just seen two of your friends get engaged this winter. Maybe you did want to be spending your Christmas with someone. Maybe you just didn't have that special someone in your life yet? So Christmas alone it is.

"This is great.." You sighed as you turned off the heat and poured the steaming burgundy potion into a festive mug, topping it with a slice of orange and then absent-mindedly doing the same to a second mug. Holding one in each hand you walked back to the coffee table, setting them down as you realised they would both just be for you, the playlist almost drowned out by torrential rain picking up outside your windows. Another wave of loneliness washed over you at the first sip, and suddenly you didn't feel much like being alone at all.

And then the doorbell rang.

You weren't expecting anyone, everyone you could think of being out of town for their own holiday adventures, so you slowly approached the door, debating dialing 9-9 into your phone just in case, and peered through the peephole.

"Steven?" You practically ripped the door open at the sight of the cold, soaked man, struggling with the chain just long enough you feared he might have turned around and walked home already. "What are you doing here? Are you okay?" Wide-eyed and almost apologetic Steven quickly nodded his head, tripping over his tongue as he spoke. He had spent all day preparing a few words from when he got brave enough to see you, but he wasn't expecting to miss you so much that he'd turn up on your doorstep on Christmas Eve, and he didn't prepare an answer for when you asked if he was okay.

"Merry Christmas! Oh, um, I'm fine, sorry, this must seem mad. I'm here and I didn't call first and now I'm dripping on your nice door mat." He trailed off in a panicked chuckle, each word making him realise quite what a sorry sight he must be.

"Do you want to come inside Steven? I just made mulled wine?" Your smile was just as welcoming as your words and even though he dreaded the thought of intruding, he found himself floating into your cosy home very happily.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother. You have such a nice place, I'd hate to drip all over it." He found the tension melting from his shoulders as your hands settled there, suddenly remembering just why he missed being around you so much.

"You're not a bother at all Steven, you are very welcome here. Let me take your wet coat." He willingly shrugged off the damp layer and mumbled his thank yous as you shut the door behind him, letting him delve deeper into your inner sanctum. His face lit up as he surveyed your walls, a dozen new insights into your life and the things that you loved, your warm space so uniquely you but welcoming to everyone all the same. He felt at ease and at home, like he did whenever he got to spend time with you.

You on the other hand could feel your pulse racing as his flushed cheeks drew closer to yours, every beaming smile thrown your way as he looked around raising the temperature in your home by a degree or two. Trying to pull yourself together you turned on your heels and picked up the mugs you'd just filled up, extending one to Steven.

"I accidentally made two mugs of this, so I must have known you were coming!" You cringed at how isolated that sentence made you feel, but Steven's shaking hands wrapping around the mug and soaking up its warmth helped to put you at ease.

"You're too kind to me, love. I'm sorry to interrupt your private Christmas, I know you were looking forward to a bit of alone time this year."

"To be honest, the alone time got old pretty quickly. I'm really glad you stopped by, I could use the company. But, and I hope this doesn't sound rude, why did you stop by Steven?"

"Oh right of course! Sorry, got a bit carried away making myself at home there. I just wanted to give you something." Steven blushed as he set down his cup and rushed back to his coat, pulling a little envelope topped with a bow out of the pocket. "This is for you." He presented it proudly, watching in eager anticipation as you carefully unsealed it and slid out the little card.

"A gift card for my favourite coffee shop? That's so sweet Steven, thank you! I'm sorry I didn't get you anything, but I really appreciate this." It never ceased to amaze you just how thoughtful he could be, and just how closely he listened to everything you had to say.

"Well this might be something you could do for me. But only if you want! Um, I wanted to ask if you would ever want to go for a coffee with me some time? I really like talking to you, and seeing you, and spending time with you, and I know I only ever do it when you're working and that can make it tricky for us to talk too much, so I wanted to ask you on a proper date in the new year? But also you don't have to say yes, I got you the gift card so I could still technically buy you a coffee even if you don't want to go and get it with me. Which would be fine. But I would really like to go with you.." You could see the desperate panic building in his eyes as he went back and forth on the sentiment, hands wringing frantically as he tried to get the words out even though he couldn't remember anything he'd prepared every time he opened his mouth. You worried if you let him talk much longer he'd end up blue in the face or sprinting for the door, so setting the card down on the table, you figured out one way to shut him up and answer his question at the same time.

One hand landed gently on the side of his face, thumb running across his flushed cheek, while the other found his trembling fingers. His lips stopped mid-movement in awestruck disbelief as you glanced down at his mouth before slowly but surely leaning into him. Your bottom lip met his, plump and soft and hanging slightly open, and then as your noses brushed, the cupid bows of your upper lips kissed. It was sweet and soft and his lips felt cold against yours, uncertain as if you might pull away on second thought. You gave him a second to react, letting the cogs whir in his brain until finally his hand squeezed back at yours, an arm wrapping around your waist as he dived in for more. His jaw tensed as his lips applied more pressure, chasing the high that came from finally tasting you, pulling you tightly against his chest to soak up as much of your warmth and scent as he could possibly consume. He felt almost drunk as he finally pulled away, resting his forehead on yours with a giddy grin, summoning a little more confidence to ask again,

"Does this mean you'll go for coffee with me, love?"

"It definitely does Steven." Your second kiss was interrupted by the elated giggle that crept past his lips, before he went to plant peck after peck on you, this outcome even better than he could have ever hoped a Christmas miracle would be. You caught a glimpse of the recently strung up mistletoe over Steven's shoulder as you pulled him in for a hug, smiling to yourself at the wonderful turnaround your evening had had. You could feel Steven's grin against your cheek as he muttered quietly in your ear,

"If you want any more company this Christmas, I haven't got any plans. We can do anything you want."

"This is great." For the first time tonight, as Steven wrapped his arms around you even more tightly, you truly meant it.

[sanguineterrain]

Could I humbly request Dullahan (basically a headless horseman with a whip made from a spine) Jason giving reader a ride on Halloween? If not, that’s okay.

what a delightful prompt anon! i took some batman-inspired liberties here, so jason is more of a regular headless horseman than a dullahan specifically (kept the whip tho bc man, what a badass weapon). but omg it fits him SO well. hope you like it!

headless horseman!jason todd x gn!reader. spooky themes. i guess it's a different time period -- i was imagining 19th century. reader knew jason before he died.

send halloween requests!!

****

You should've taken a carriage.

That's all you can think as you cross the border from Clarence County to Gotham County. You've been walking for an hour, and you're only just entering Gotham. The sun went down ages ago.

It's mostly wilderness outside of the city, and it's generally safe. Rich folk build vacation cabins in these woods. Others hike and fish along the river.

You still should've taken a carriage. Even if no people pose a threat to you out here, the forest is still dangerous. Bears. Snakes.

...Things not of this world.

No, you can't think that way.

Your basket of farm goods makes your arm ache. You switch it to your other hand. You're beginning to think that making this trip wasn't worth it at all. Certainly not if a bear mauls you.

A twig snaps and you jump about three feet in the air. You skitter away from the tree line, heart beating fast.

You wait. You have a glass bottle of milk to throw at whatever comes out of the woods.

Nothing. Silence. The trees might as well be dead.

Slowly, you untense, muscles slowly going slack. A twig probably didn't even snap; it's only your imagination. Yes. Right.

You tuck the milk back into your basket and adjust yourself, continuing your trek.

"Awful late to be out."

This time, you do throw the milk bottle. It lands with a thud in the soft dirt. The voice speaks again. He sounds amused.

"You missed me."

You whirl around and gawp. How had you missed a man on a horse? Surely you would've heard footsteps or the jingle of the straps.

The horse is huge, with a shiny, black coat. Its rider is proportionally large, broad shoulders straining his crimson hood. You can't make out his face, the opening nothing but a void. You squint, but grow dizzy when you look too hard.

It's such a strange thought, but your first instinct is that you know the rider. Intimately so. Like an old friend.

The horse is a shadow, the edges of its mane blurry. It nickers and drags its hoof over the dirt. It also has a hood, so you can't make out its face either.

The hooded figure watches you from his horse. At least, you think he does.

"Are you lost?" he asks. His voice echoes strangely, like it's coming from underground.

"No," you say immediately. "I'm on my way back to Gotham."

Most people have enough sense not to challenge Gotham citizens.

He tilts his head. You wish you could see his face.

"I can give you a ride. I'm headed there myself."

There is a red knight's helmet tied to the saddle. You look at it, then at him.

"I'll manage," you say. "I know my way."

"It's dangerous to travel alone on foot. Especially so late."

He dismounts the horse. Even on the ground, his presence is overwhelming. There is a long, bone-white whip fastened to his hip. Are those...?

"What's in the helmet?" you ask.

"Why do you think there's something inside?" His voice echoes again.

He goes and retrieves the bottle of milk you threw. It isn't cracked, which is fortunate. He opens the basket hooked over your arm and gently places the milk inside. Your heart pounds the entire time.

"I won't hurt you," he says, stepping back. "Gotham is my city. You are mine to protect."

"Gotham belongs to the Bat."

"Not for much longer," he says, almost snarling.

You look at the horse, which has been eerily still. The moon is high in the sky. Stars dance outside of the city smog.

"If it makes you feel safer," he says, voice softer. "You can hold my whip. If I do anything you don't like, you can be sure I won't do it again."

You don't like that idea; you hope you don't have to use the whip on him, though he is a stranger. But you like his voice, even if it echoes oddly. And you like how gentle he is, how calm his horse remains. You are sure he won't hurt you, even though there is no proof for you to confirm that.

You extend your hand.

"Alright," you say. "Please take me home."

He pushes you onto the horse, who doesn't even stir when you get on its back. Then he mounts with ease. He slides his whip out and gives it to you; on further inspection, you realize it's a spine. The horse takes off at a gallop, and you cling to the hooded man so you won't fall off.

"Are you a soldier?" you ask, wind biting at your face. He is cold but full of strength.

"I was."

"What should I call you?"

He thinks for a moment, steady under the brutal pace.

"You may call me Red Hood."

"Haven't you got a name?" you ask.

"I did," Hood says. "I'm not certain that it's mine anymore."

He sounds young. You wish you could see his face.

You arrive in Gotham sooner than you should, even on horse. Hood dismounts again and helps you down, strong hands on your waist. You land on the ground in a whoosh, and Hood holds you for a second longer than necessary. You linger against him and squint, trying to find his eyes. You can't.

"Will you show me your face?" you ask.

Red Hood immediately steps back. You hold your basket to your chest.

"You'd never forgive me if I did," he says, and the echo is back.

"I feel like I know you," you say, stepping towards him, and Hood puts more distance between you.

For the first time, the horse whinnies. It's a ghastly sound, like it's in pain, and you flinch. You spin around to see what spooked the horse, but by the time you do, it's gone.

And so is the Red Hood.

The whip, however, is still wrapped around your own waist; it's your only reminder that he was here at all.

[okay-j-hannah]

In The Dark

Moon Knight : Fic

Steven Grant x Reader

Word Count: 2248

Warnings: the dark can be very spooky 👻

Request: “Please my baby Steven G. Imagine: The city has a blackout when the reader is in his loft (they're best friends) and she got scared. They cuddle a bit to calm her down and they confess their love + hands around your waist as he pulls you closer, goosebumps swarming every part of your body that he touches” Anon

A/N: After seeing a terribly scary movie, you find yourself in a blackout and scared of the dark

It was dark inside the movie theater – only bright flashes of color as the screen played the horror flick. It smelt of buttered popcorn and warm pretzels, full of the sounds of crinkled wrappers and clinking ice cubes.

Not to mention the terrifying silence of the movie as the heroine peered around a darkened corner.

(Y/N) had long since eaten her popcorn, stress eating the bucket with exceptional speed, and was now scrunched in the chair with the tensest of muscles. Reclined in a cushioned theater seat, she pulled the blanket she brought to her chin, socked feet tucking closer and closer to her body.

She shouldn’t complain – it was her idea to see the latest and greatest scary movie after all. She had to say she was handling it better than her best friend positively quaking in the seat beside her.

Steven Grant – dependable, kind, intuitive Steven Grant – was not a fan of horror. Yet he still dealt with the ghosts, cults, and killers just to spend another evening with her.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile after the next jump scare. While she flinched terribly and clutched at her blanket, Steven nearly jumped a foot into the air. The next time they go out she would suggest getting a seatbelt for his chair.

“Shit,” he whispered tersely, “This is terrible.”

She smiled, “It’s so good.” She leaned closer to his side and found that he was already as close as he could get to her.

Their arms touched, (Y/N) much more scrunched than Steven and resting her head against his shoulder, supposedly to hide her face. From the high vantage point, Steven could gaze down and see her nuzzled against him.

(Y/N) would credit the fast pace of his heart to the movie. Steven would say it was from her touch.

The next jump scare, complete with a crescendo of sound, made Steven grip her hand with a cried, “Ah bollocks!”

She had to contain a giggle at his reaction, flickering her eyes to his hand covering the entirety of her own. She wiggled her fingers away from the blanket to thread between his.

His hand was limp at first, (Y/N) giving him a reassuring squeeze, supposedly to help him through the scariest bits.

Steven was scared alright, but not so much about the movie anymore. His dark eyes widened as her fingers found purchase between his. It was a blessing they were in the middle of a crowded theater where the proper etiquette was to remain quiet, because he would’ve said something terribly stupid and incoherent at the gesture.

He squeezed back, refraining from running his thumb along hers like he wanted to. Refraining from resting his head against hers like he wanted to. Refraining from lifting the armrest to pull her into a cuddle like he wanted to.

Instead they anxiously enjoyed the rest of the movie, holding hands as if it were just to support one another and not because they’ve been searching for an excuse to.

The credits began to roll, and (Y/N) promptly drew away, folding her blanket and grabbing the empty bucket of popcorn. Steven sat there and watched her a moment longer, hand open and waiting for her to take it again.

“Ready?” she asked, standing and looking at him with a questioning, if not puzzled, expression. “I’m not sure I can walk through the parking lot alone… in the dark.”

He took the hint with a few blinks to clear his lovestruck vision. “Course,” he said, “Allow me.” He draped her blanket over his arm and took the popcorn.

She smiled, leading the way outside. It was late into the night, cars surrounded by a blanket of chilled darkness. The only light came from a few yellowed streetlamps giving off a faint hum of electricity.

(Y/N) hummed her anxiety as they walked nearly shoulder to shoulder. Steven looked at her knowingly.

“You know, one would think loving horror movies meant you were past things like being afraid of the dark.”

“Movies are different,” she said defensively, but a smile was on her face, “I know it’s just a screen. But real life?” she looked around into the darkness, “My imagination kind of runs wild. There could be anything hiding in there.”

Steven hid a grin, “I think you like being scared.”

“No one likes being scared.”

“It’s your rush of adrenaline,” he said, letting her drive as he got into the passenger seat. “You’re an adrenaline junkie when you’re scared.”

She made sure the doors were locked – twice, “Maybe you’re right.” She eyed the dark streets tentatively before putting the keys into the ignition. “I’m going to regret it when I try to sleep tonight.”

Steven kept sneaking looks at her face. His hands were subconsciously fisted in the blanket.

“Do you… do you want to come back to my place, maybe?”

“And watch another scary movie?” she laughed.

“No, no…” he said with a wince, “Just until we calm down enough to sleep. If we’re going to be up all night scared we might as well do it together.”

She turned the wheel, “Not a bad idea.” She gave him a look, “As long as you don’t mind me possibly crashing there.”

Steven stared at her a moment before spluttering, “Oh, no not at all. You’re welcome to. You could take my bed if you wanted. In fact I insist. You should take my bed.”

She started laughed again, “Steven, I couldn’t take your bed. I’ll curl up on the lounge chair.”

He hummed his disapproval, “Oh that simply won’t do.”

“You don’t exactly have an adult sized couch in your flat,” she said, “And it’s not like I haven’t taken naps in that chair before.”

They bickered about it the entire car ride until (Y/N) cleverly said, “What are you going to do? Tie me up with that ankle restraint of yours?”

Every thought evaporated from Steven’s mind at that image.

They got into the flat with a heated discussion of the movie plot – the quality of scares, number of twists, and overall acting – it made their nerves flutter into something more lighthearted. Steven offered to make a cup of tea and (Y/N) occupied the lounge chair near the little tv.

“I just don’t understand why someone would willingly choose to walk towards a scary noise,” Steven mused, pouring the kettle into two mugs. “It’s like they have no survival instincts, innit?”

(Y/N) craned her neck to talk to him, “I’d walk towards a scary noise.”

“You would not.”

“I would want to know who’s breaking into my bloody house! You think I’d go to sleep after hearing something and not investigating?”

Steven opened a box of teabags, “And that, love, is why you’d be the first character to die.”

“Nonsense,” she chortled, “You’d give yourself away with calling out ‘hello?’ and become the next target.”

There was a faint pop and the entire flat fell into darkness. It was as if someone threw a bag over their heads, muffling not just light but the sound as well. It was eerily quiet and full of pinpricks on the back of the neck.

(Y/N) was the first to let out a breath, “Steven?” It was only a couple seconds later but her fear drew out the time.

“Hang on,” came his voice, “Power might’ve gone out.”

A clatter on the table and a hiss from Steven meant he bumped into the cups of tea. He was scrambling for the light switch near the door.

(Y/N) pulled her knees to her chest, turning towards where she knew the window was. It was dark outside, but she was hoping to see the streetlamps below through the glass. The fact that she couldn’t see a speck of light told her that the power might’ve gone out on the whole block.

The clicking of the light switch preceded Steven groaning, “It’s a power outage.” He gave a huffy laugh, “Brilliant.”

“Um… Steven?”

He tensed at her voice, “Yeah?”

She swallowed hard, “Could you come over here? I’m…” She sounded small, as if the dark was stifling her, “It’s a little scary.”

“Right – yeah, ‘course.” He licked his lips, extending his arms to feel for any incoming furniture as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. “Oof, sorry,” he apologized to the dining table that bit into his shin.

(Y/N) jumped at the crash but was grateful for the sound distracting her from what could be lurking in the dark. Steven kept apologizing to the things he was toppling over.

The books on the desk, stubbing his toe, “Sorry.” The rug tripping his feet, “So sorry.”

He could vaguely make out the lounge chair and (Y/N)’s silhouette, “Hello there.”

She gave a shaky sigh, “Hi.”

Steven crouched beside her, holding onto the armrest, “Are you alright?” He tried to make out her face in the dark, clearly more frightened than his own.

“How unlucky to have seen a horror movie right before a blackout,” her little laugh was strained, “I think my nerves are shot.”

“Oh,” he sounded worried, “Oh, it’s alright. It’s just a little power outage. There’s nothing to be scared of here.”

“Just the dark.”

Steven smiled, “Nope, I’m afraid it’s just me and Gus. There’s nothing else here.”

Her hand found his against the armrest, “Could we sit here… just until the lights come back on.”

White noise filled Steven’s head, his expression going slack. He hesitated while he thought of sitting there just him and (Y/N) for what could be hours. “Of course, love.”

She pulled on his wrist, urging him into the chair.

He fumbled, “Oh you mean… in the… right.” He awkwardly fell into the chair, pressed snug to (Y/N). He held his hands out, unsure where to put them, laying their stiffly with nowhere to go.

(Y/N) took the initiative, wrapping her arms around his waist, half laying on him with a leg bent between his. He just laid there, scrunched and uncomfortable with his hands poised in the air around them.

She squeezed him, sighing into his side, and his stomach flipped.

“Steven.”

“Yeah,” he whispered dryly. The funny feeling in his stomach was taking hold of his throat.

“You can hold me back,” she said, “It might be a while before the lights come on – I need you to protect me.”

He choked, “Right, sorry.”

His hands were tentative as he wrapped them around her waist. Some of his fingers found her ribs and became frozen. One swipe up with his thumb and he’d be brushing the underside of her…

“Are you okay?” she suddenly asked. “You’re hardly breathing.”

The only noise Steven could make was a strangled laugh.

His soft, hesitant fingers were sending goosebumps across her arms.

“Are you feeling better about the dark?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” she said, feeling all warm and covered in pinpricks. “Thanks to you.”

“My pleasure,” he said. He was starting to melt into her. Now not so uncomfortable with their position. He wrapped around her more tightly, finding comfort in the way her head nestled beneath his chin.

It was the perfect excuse to hold her close. First the horror movie and then the blackout. One would think unseen forces were trying to draw them together.

After a long few moments, Steven cleared his throat, stirring her against him.

“What is it?” she asked, eyes fully adjusted to the dark now. She watched his fingers find a seam in her shirt and begin to nervously trace and pick at it.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said above the sound of his own thrumming heart, “We’ve been friends for a while, yeah?”

She smiled, “Best friend I have.”

The pride filling his chest in combination with his erratic heart was making it more difficult to continue, “Well, I was thinking, what would you say to getting dinner with me?”

“What, at that new Thai place we talked about earlier?”

“No,” he said quickly, “No, I was thinking something in a nicer part of town.”

She leaned into him, “You want to get all dressed up?”

“And take you out.”

She stilled against him, and his heart leapt into his throat, effectively choking him as he awaited her response.

“Take me out… like on a date?”

He fought every nerve in his body to keep his voice even. “Yeah, if you like. But if not we could try that Thai place like you said.” He held onto her as if his confession would make her want to leave. “It was just a thought.”

There was a smile in her tone when she finally replied, “You beat me to it.” She had to hold him back just as tightly to keep herself from squirming, “I’ve been spending all night trying to come up with a way to tell you.”

He was shifting in her grasp, trying to get her to look at him, “What?”

She felt that flip in her stomach to hear his disbelief, and she rose her head to meet his gaze, “It’s been months now,” she said warmly, “And I still haven’t found the right way to tell you I love you.”

Steven gawked, incoherent strings of words falling from his mouth. “I… I love you too.” He turned achingly sweet, a hand rising to cup her cheek and touch her hair. “I love you too!” he repeated, eyes crinkling in the corners as a smile overtook his face.

And the dark wasn’t so scary anymore.

~~~

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[m4xedout]

One fin wonder 4

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

maybe for one fin wonder for whatever reason gets like jumpscared by one of mk and kicks him in the dick

i think about that when i’m sad

ANON

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Welcome to one fin wonder! Enjoy :)

Series pairings: steven grant x teen!reader, marc spector x teen!reader, jake lockley x teen!reader, layla el faouly x teen!reader (all platonic, reader is 14)

Content warning: blood, guts, panic attack, reader is a sour little shit about everything, mentions of parents absence and or death

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

..."y/n?"

The voice called out to you

You back up into the wall, small tears shedding down your skin and dripping onto the floor

You hold your hands to your mouth and silently cry seeing the dismembered body on the floor, the man in the white suit and glowing eyes slowly walking towards you, hands up in defense not to frighten you even more

"No no..no its okay i'm-"

"THIS IS NOT FUCKING OKAY" you shout at the man

You wobbled onto the floor, vision going black

The last thing you remember is the man rushing towards you to catch you after your fall

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Your eyes open slowly, and they focus on the man in front of you

"Hey..are you okay?"

You suddenly went into a panic, lifting your foot up and kicking him in the-

"I jus- ARHGH!-"

The man falls into the floor beside you and you back up into the wall

He walked you to your room and placed you onto your bed while you were passed out

And he got rid of the body.

He thought the man hurt a child.

He didn't know he just broke in

Now he feels bad, the man in the mirror reminds him of their job and who they are.

He still isn't used to this.

While the man lays next to you groaning in pain you ask one question.

"Who are you."

No response.

You kick your foot onto his back

"WHO ARE YOU." You day in a louder voice.

"Mmhm.." the man mumbled

"What?" You said confused..

"Moon...knight"the man responded in a British accent, familiar to someone you know..

You were to in shock to call him out on it.

"Holy shit moonknights in my home...what's with the suit?" You ask holding back a giggle.

"The what.." the man murmurs

"I thought you'd be wearing something...cooler, for the 'fist of vengeance'" you air quoted, the man scoffed

"Well why don't youu...lock your windows?" He snapped at you

You gasp in offense

"Well from up this high i didn't think anyone could get in besides fuckin super man!" You snapped back and saw the man's expression change from under the mask

"..what do you want" you ask him

"Well I am the 'fist of-" "no not that!" You whisper shout the man

"..I protect the people of the night.." he said in a low voice.

"..well I don't need protection " as soon as it came out of you mouth he raised your cut up to your face.

"..oh"

"Yeah oh." The man said harshly

" Hey! S'not like you ever came up when I was a kid..I thought super heros didn't exist." You said under you breath but he slightly caught it.

"What was that" the man looked at you, with concern his eyes

You didn't have a 'good' childhood, but you lived through it.

Your mother was a drug addict, as your father was never around.

You always just assumed it was because of you

Well you didn't assume..your mother made it very clear you practically ruined their lives by just being alive.

You were the reason she did all that shit

You were the reason dad was never there

It was all your fault.

.

.

"I said...you never came up when I was a kid...if you have the balls to come up now you're obviously just picking and choosing. " you said with a harsh tone in your voice.

"Wha-" "no! You need to get the fuck out of my flat, and never EVER come near me again."

You began to push the man out

The suit changed

It was more intense

The tie was left with a Cresent around his chest

He had a hood and a cape now.

The glow in his eyes wasn't the same anymore.

Whoever the fuck you were just talking to.

Wasn't the real moonknight.

This was worse.

You're fucking dead.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Tbc..

@80pairsofcrocs @jasminemohmed

[istumpysk]

(Ashford Tourney anon)

Well, I’m not sure how you feel about the idea that Harrold Hardyng is a replacement for Robert Arryn because the five year gap did not happen, but myself and many others believe it. Again, it’s just speculation, but there’s a lot of weight to it.

This is important because it provides an explanation as to why Harry wasn’t mentioned before AFFC (I assume the FYG was scrapped around/after ASOS). One would think that the Heir to the Vale would at least be mentioned in the appendix, right? Nope, he’s never mentioned before Feast. Therefore, assuming that Harry is an invention of the FYG, that means that he was probably invented between 2000 (Storm’s release) and 2005 (Feast’s release).

The problem with this? The Hedge Knight was released in 1998, before Harry was allegedly invented. Therefore, the parallel to his ancestor Humfrey Hardyng does not work in reference to Sansa.

Okay, one could argue that Harry was invented earlier. But then why not just mention him once in Storm, or Storm’s appendix?

I want to make it absolutely abundantly clear that this is in no way an attack towards you or Jonsa—I actually think a Jon-Sansa marriage is a logical outcome to the story. Please let me know if I overlooked something!

>> Again, it's just speculation, but there's a lot of weight to it.

That's where you lost me. There isn't a lot of weight to it, it's purely an assumption, with no evidence to support it.

Why would you expect Harrold Hardyng to be introduced as Robert Arryn's heir in an appendix with no additional context? He's not even listed as Robert Arryn's heir in the appendix of AFFC or ADWD. He's listed as Anya Waynwood's ward.

Gendry and Edric Storm don't appear in AGOT's appendix, yet it's easy to infer that George has had plans for Robert's bastards from the beginning, yes?

Regardless of all of that, I can't pretend to know how the story has evolved or when George created certain characters, but what I can tell you is that you did overlook something.

You forgot a key event that takes place in A Game of Thrones (published in 1996), featuring a knight from the Vale competing in a tournament with Sansa watching, that foretells events that take place in The Hedge Knight and probably The Winds of Winter.

The most terrifying moment of the day came during Ser Gregor's second joust, when his lance rode up and struck a young knight from the Vale under the gorget with such force that it drove through his throat, killing him instantly. The youth fell not ten feet from where Sansa was seated. The point of Ser Gregor's lance had snapped off in his neck, and his life's blood flowed out in slow pulses, each weaker than the one before. His armor was shiny new; a bright streak of fire ran down his outstretched arm, as the steel caught the light. Then the sun went behind a cloud, and it was gone. His cloak was blue, the color of the sky on a clear summer's day, trimmed with a border of crescent moons, but as his blood seeped into it, the cloth darkened and the moons turned red, one by one. - Sansa II, AGOT

↓

Dunk did not know the colors, but Egg said they belonged to a knight from the Vale of Arryn named Ser Humfrey Hardyng. "He won a great melee at Maidenpool last year, ser, and overthrew Ser Donnel of Duskendale and the Lords Arryn and Royce in the lists."

[...]

At the last possible instant, Ser Humfrey's stallion reared away from the oncoming point, eyes rolling in terror, but too late, Aerion's lance took the animal just above the armor that protected his breastbone, and exploded out of the back of his neck in a gout of bright blood. Screaming, the horse crashed sideways, knocking the wooden barrier to pieces as he fell. Ser Humfrey tried to leap free, but a foot caught in a stirrup and they heard his shriek as his leg was crushed between the splintered fence and falling horse.

[...]

Ser Humfrey Hardyng had succumbed to his wounds only last night. - The Hedge Knight

↓

And may your horse stumble, Harry the Heir, so you fall on your stupid head in your first tilt. - Alayne I, TWOW

You're going to have a difficult time convincing me these things aren't connected.

Post: Ashford

[melodygatesauthor]

So listen, after I watched ex-machina with Nathan Batemans bare feet out there for free, and made a comment, there’s been a running gag with my friends that I have a foot fetish (I don’t, I have an Oscar Isaac fetish)

Anyway, I’ve posted this here before but in lite of the moon knight foot anon I thought this was relevant

My buddy mike said “it’s your two favorite things! Baby yoda and Oscar isaacs feet”

THE WAY I'M CACKLING RIGHT NOW

Holy fuckin hell!

This whole foot thing has consumed my evening and I'm not even mad about it but holy hell. This is great.

[romanarose]

a 🦶 for your foot thoughts

Fuck it. Why not. For context I read why to much questionable degradation stories and I watch too much porn XD

For those of you who don't know, us Moon Knight writers are being terrorized by an anon request foot fetish thots, so I have given in and used this as an excuse for the uuuhhhhh foot fetish I absolutely don't have. Well, let's put it this way.

Me: Is it a foot fetish? Or is it an Oscar Isaac fetish?

My best friend El: That's between you and god

for more foot thoughts and context, visit @melodygatesauthor

*****************

Jake Lockley x Fem!reader

Warnings: foot fetish, boot fetish, leather fetish oh my. Pet play? Idk but theres a collar and lease and he calls her perra. begging, degredation.

Mi Amor: *Sent image*

Mi Amor: *Sent image*

Jakey <3: Carino, what are you doing?

Mi Amor: *Sent video*

Jakey <3: I don't remember telling you that you could use that toy while I was gone.

Mi Amor: But I miss you :(

Mi Amor: *Sent Video*

Jakey <3: Last fucking chance.

Mi Amor: *Sent video*

Jakey <3: I'll be home in ten minutes, be ready how I like you, or I swear to god I'm going to make this way worse for you, you fucking brat.

Mi Amir: Yes Daddy <3

You smile, knowing your little game worked. You wanted Jake home, and now he was coming, and he was going to punish you just the way you like. You strip naked, putting on your favorite collar and leash and kneel on the rug Jake bought specifically for this: nice and soft for you.

When Jake came through the door, however, you think you make have miscalculated a tad. He was borderline disheveled, hat and gloves still on, but the sports coat he wore had been discarded in the living room, tie loosened and hanging off his neck, buttons on his shirt undone as he flung the door open, glaring at you.

"Can't leave you a lone for a few fucking hours without you misbehaving, can I?"

"I missed you" You pout, and see the slightest flicker of a smile on his face; no matter the games you two played, he adored you, and loved knowing you missed him.

"You think I don't miss you? Doesn't mean you can break the rules, perra." He snaps his fingers, and like an obedient dog you get on your hands and knees, taking the leash handle in your mouth, and crawl over to where he knelt on one knee, before slapping you and grabbing your chin tightly. "So it seems you can follow orders, you just choose not too."

The anticipation and heat that had been building inside you was culminating into slick between your thighs. "I'm sorry, sir."

Jake slipped a leather-gloved hand up in you, and despite the clothes, he could tell how wet you were by how easily his hand glided along your skin. "So fucking wet, you think I'm going to fuck you? Is that what you want?"

"Yes sir"

"Then it wouldn't be much a punishment, would it?" Jake spoke with an evil smile on his face.

Your eyes widen, he wouldn't actually not fuck you... would he? "Jake, please..." You whine, crawling up closer to him, your slicked-up core rubbing against the leather of his boot. "Jake please? I'll be good, I promise!" You sound pathetic, so cock-starved and desperate. "I won't do it again, please? I'm sorry."

Jake seemed to be considering his next course of action, so you try your best to look as innocent as possible in hopes he shows a bit of mercy. He can fuck you however he wants, as long as he fucks you. Standing up, he holds the leash taught, the collar tight around your throat, but you knew better than to stand unless he told you or tugged twice. He had you trained.

"Here's what you're going to do, you're going to get yourself off riding my boot." You must've looked confused, because he reiterated. "You're going to spread your legs over my boot, and hump it like the dirty bitch in heat you are, and if you can get yourself off, then the real punishment begins" Jakes leans in to whisper "The kind that you like."

You are hesitant, but confident in knowing you can always use the safe word if the play is too much (or if you just really, really need to get dicked down) and knowing Jake will always take care of you and your needs, you do as he asks, a light shutter as you feel your pussy lips settle over the cool leather. "Jake?" You ask, unsure if you're doing it right.

"Just like that, Preciosa." Jake encourages, pulling the leash so that your body was flush against his leg.

You begin riding, the stimulation on your clit and knowing how fucking dirty this was worked you up quickly, grinding and humping away as you briefly wondered if cum ruined leather. Jake didn't seem to care right now. You wrap your arms around his leg, and keep begging as you do as he asked, voice growing breathless under him. "Please Jake, please fuck me, I'll be a good girl for you, I'll be everything you need, I just want you inside me. Please, daddy, please?"

Jake shoved two gloved fingers in your mouth, allowing you to suck to satisfy your oral fixation, your head bobbing along with your lowers bodies actions and christ, he could feel you moaning around him.

"You like this, don't you? You like being treated like a dirty whore who had to beg just to get a dick in her? Rutting against me because she can't control herself, she'll take what she can get, even if it's just my boot?"

You a cry, Jake feels you bite down on his gloves as you come, soating his boots in your juices, desperately clinging to him. He pulls out his fingers, and weakly, you continue begging. "Please, sir, I'll be good."

Taking mercy, Jake leaned down kissed you, taking off his gloves to feel your soft skin. "Good girl, doing as I asked. You think you can keep behaving?"

You look up at him, eyes soft and pleading. "Yes, I'll be good for you daddy, wanna be your good girl."

He smiled, but it was not soft, it was the smile he gave when he was toying with you. "Let's put that to the test, shall we?"

***********

Now foot anon! This must end, or I STG we're all gonna turn ff our anon! Come back next month or something XD

tagging the others who have been on the run.

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @welcometostayingawake @melodygatesauthor @campingwiththecharmings @jake-g-lockley

[my-secret-shame]

you are now my feet posting mutual

S T O P

[whatthefishh]

Me and foot anon right now

Idk if it’s a joke anymore Mona 😭

LMFAO WHY DID you mAKE THIS 😂😂

I don’t think it’s a joke anymore either babes and I think they need to reveal themselves asaaaappp

[yourflxnnelcure]

For Felix and Anisa (separate),them pining over MC maybe? You're free to write and end it with whatevee you want,please just make it extra fluffy please 🤲💕

ofc anon i always am in support of fluff and pinning !! forgive me if anisa’s characterization is off i haven’t gotten around to playing her route yet 😩✋🏽 and i decided to add sage too cause I’m kind like that <3

Felix:

Felix kept his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing absentmindedly, the book open in his hands left unattended. He instead chose to focus his attention on you. You were laid out in one of the chairs, your legs sprawled across another, hair falling into your eyes while you studied.

God, you were so beautiful. Even with the bags under your eyes from late night magic sessions. He wanted nothing more then to wrap his arms around your waist and bury his head in the crook of your neck—would it be totally creepy to say he wanted to inhale the way you smelled?

He’d read enough romance novels to know how to compare you to something cheesy like the moon, or perhaps the sun would be a better analogy? Because like the sun you were warm and all consuming, his mind was constantly full of flashes of your smile or the gentle noise that was your laugh.

You looked up from your book, narrowing your eyes at him with a playful smile. His gaze quickly darted away. Felix cleared his throat, pretending to be suddenly engrossed in the text in front of him. You moved your foot to nudge at his arm, tilting your head to try and meet his eyeline.

“I know staring at me is just oh so fun, but if you aren’t going to pay attention could you make yourself useful and grab me a cuppa?” Your tone was light and full of affection—it made his cheeks darken. He nodded, setting his book down to stand up—back cracking. Oh that was attractive and certainly not the spitting image of some elderly man.

He moved to find the kettle but you tugged at his sleeve as he passed you, stopping him. You sat up to pull at one of his necklaces, dragging him down to your level. He stammered while you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, patting the spot with your hand, grinning at his dazed expression.

“Now—tea?”

Anisa:

Anisa’s eyes flickered to the sweat collecting on your brow, said brow furrowed in concentration while you hoisted yourself over a thick tree branch. You grunted in effort, righting yourself before sending a smug grin down to Anisa. You poked your tongue out.

“See? Told you I could do it,” you boasted, hands gripping the bark of the tree. She smiled, scrunching her nose, arms folded across her chest.

“Me saying you shouldn’t climb a tree when you can barely stand up without tripping over yourself on the ground does not mean ‘I should definitely climb this tree.’” You rolled your eyes, scootching to relax against the trunk of the tree, dangerously close to falling the few feet back to the grassy ground.

“I mean—it’s basically the same thing.” You shrugged, closing your eyes, the sunlight basking across in your face in vivid orange and yellow flashes. Anisa took the time you weren’t focused on her to let her eyes wander entirely over your form.

Even covered in dirt and a leaf sticking from your hair, you were perfect in every way. Love wasn’t something Anisa thought about often—she couldn’t afford to get distracted if she wanted to advance in ranking. But maybe with you it wouldn’t be so bad…

Getting to wake up to your snores, an arm draped around her waist. Having you massage her shoulders after a long shift. Getting to kiss you whenever the hell she wanted. Yea, that didn’t sound so bad.

You cracked your eyes open, trying to move yourself back to the center of the branch. This was clearly ineffective as you tumbled over the side, free falling through the air. Anisa rushed forward, grunting in effort when you landed bridal style in her arms.

You laughed—loud and unashamed. Her cheeks tinged pink and you wrapped your arms around her neck, batting your eyes at her dramatically. “Truly my knight in shining armor.”

“I’m not wearing armor…”

“Anisa-”

Sage:

Sage’s head was fuzzy, his thoughts a drunken scattered mess. The tavern was noisy, but he couldn’t really focus on any of it. It all sounded like empty static to him. But the very real, and very present, feeling of your cheek rested against his shoulder was something he would never be able to tune out.

You had fallen asleep a few shots ago, and your head had naturally dropped to the nearest thing to you—which just happened to be Sage’s shoulder. He was too afraid to move, scared he’d disrupt your rest. He wanted to glare at everyone in the tavern, tell them to shut up and let you sleep because lord knows you needed it with how hard you pushed yourself.

Perhaps if he scooped you up fast enough you wouldn’t notice the movement of him carrying you back to the tower? He seriously doubted that would work, especially since drunk him wasn’t exactly the most coordinated man. He swallowed, moving to take your heavy hand in his, running his fingers over your knuckles. You were always so cold, nearly icy to the touch. Sage was the opposite, and you’d often request he hold you just to warm you up. Completely platonically, of course…

You grumbled something incoherent, turning your head into sages neck, lips just barely ghosting his skin. He froze, taking a peak at you from the corner of his eyes. How did someone make drooling on his neck look cute?

Maybe one day he’d be able to confront his feelings for you to himself—maybe one day he’d believe he was worthy of your love and affection. But for now, he was content cuddled up to you in this seedy tavern, listening to the small snores leaving your lips.

[tom-whore-dleston]

Seven Hundred from Heaven

700 followers celebration

I'm blown away by the amount of love and support I have received on this site. I would've never thought I'd make so many friends and write so many fics over the past year. I couldn't have done any of it without y'all so thank you from the bottom of my heart 🥰 with all that said and done, let's begin the celebration!!!

Details:

Starts: March 11 @ 12am (PST)

Ends: March 14 @ 11:59pm (PST)

You are welcome to send in asks before the celebration starts, but I won't start responding to them until the start time

I may be inactive on here March 13 and morning of March 14 for family plans, but y'all can still send me stuff

As always, please be 18+ to participate! Y'all know how I feel about minors being on my blog so please don't give me a reason to block any of y'all. Please have some indication of your age in your bio.

You don't have to be following me to participate. Everyone is welcome!

I disabled anon feature to avoid meanies and minors

Please send one emoji per ask. You don't have to worry about spamming my inbox, I will see everything ;)

I will not write/discuss anything revolving around non-con, underage, a/b/o, bathroom kinks, blood kinks (only exception is vampire AU if applicable), incest, step-cest, foot fetish. I also reserve the right to deny writing any other things that make me uncomfortable.

Overall, let's just have fun and spread some love!!!

Asks to send me

🕊 - Heaven sent you to me

send me this emoji along with what made you follow me

ex: 🕊 - I followed you because...

🤍 - Heaven is a place on earth

send this emoji along with your favorite fic/line from fic of mine

ex: 🤍 - My fave fic/line of yours is...

🍀 - She’s so lucky, she’s a star

let’s play an ask game (cym, wyr, fmk, etc)

*other ideas for ask games 1 | 2 | 3 (will add more if I find any)

🌿 - Just like heaven

Send me a movie + hottie from the list and I will recreate a scene from that movie

*bonus if you send me specific scene from movie

☁️ - Head in the clouds

send me a concept that you think would fit in any of my AUs (Honey Baby, Teach Me Tonight, Rolling Dice and Rocking Hips)

*no angst plz; just good heavenly vibes hehe

💐 - I hope he buy you flowers

(writer mutuals only) I will make a moodboard based on my favorite fic of yours

💫 - A dream is a wish your heart makes

“I wish you would write a fic about…”

✨ - At last I see the light

send me an AU/trope + hottie (real or fictional) and I will make a moodboard and/or playlist

😇 - Locked out of heaven

send me a hottie (real or fictional) and I will rate them (doesn’t have to be part of the list)

🐚 - The magic conch

let’s get personal, ask me whatever you want

My Fave Hotties

All good boys go to heaven (real life hotties) -

Simu Liu, Tom Hiddleston, Tom Holland, Austin Butler, Barry Keoghan, Andrew Garfield, Harry Styles

But bad boys bring heaven to you (fictional hotties) -

Marvel: Loki Laufeyson, Xu Shang-Chi/Shangqi, Peter Parker (any variant), Xu Wenwu, Erik Kilmonger, Scott Lang, Thor, Druig, Eros/Starfox, Sam Wilson, Pietro Maximoff (Age of Ultron), Joaquin Torres, Bucky Barnes, Marc Spector/Steven Grant (I know Moon Knight hasn’t come out yet but fuck it)

Non-Marvel: Kim Jung (Kim’s Convenience), any Sim Liu’s SNL characters (don't be shy, I know we all simped), Adam (Only Lovers Left Alive), Johnathan Pine (The Night Manager), Robert Laing (High Rise), James Conrad (Kong: Skull Island), Nathan Drake (Uncharted), Arvin Russel (The Devil All The Time), Ransom Drysdale (Knives Out), Jefferson/Mad Hatter (Once Upon a Time)

dividers made by @firefly-graphics

[smallblip]

Will there be any prologue to your Levihan Royalty AU? Like, how did Levi meet Hange? How did Hange marry The King? When was the first time they fell for each other? For the daughter.. Idk why I pictured Mikasa in my mind, except for the nose part tho. UGH I really love the story sooooo much! Can't get enough of it.. 😭

Hey! I searched my blogs because I remember writing in the tags of a post that I always imagine Mikasa to be Levihan’s kid? And I realised that post is in my drafts? Anon you read my mind? 😨

I don’t think I addressed everything but here’s a little Drabble in the same Royal AU💖 I imagine this to be the same AU mentioned in Deep Sea Baby💖 (I took a chunk from there)

A thousand burning suns pt. II

Tell me about my mother.

The girl asks as Nanaba braids her hair, fingers working deftly through untameable raven hair. By next fall she will ask to have it cropped short.

Your mother is Hanji Zoë, and she’s the bravest person I know.

And of my father?

Nanaba puts flowers in her hair, they’ll fall off by mid-day, but for now, she’s content with the stories Nanaba tells her. Her book lies abandoned on her lap.

Your father is Levi Ackerman, a man whose spirit cannot be broken.

—

Hanji was born with the secrets of the universe etched in the lines of her palm and the constellation in her eyes. She is princess of a port kingdom- a people favoured by the sun and raised by the sea. And she lets the sea- worshipped by her people- carry her to a distant land of frigid waters and snowfall, where her betrothed is king. When she sets foot on land, she's greeted by faces paler than hers and a mannerism befitting the heartiness of Northern kingdoms. Already, Hanji misses the white sandy beaches and the heat of the midday sun, but she's to be queen now, and she remembers this when she walks past the heavy doors into the throne room.

She meets him- the knight she hears about in stories, stories that bridged the seas.

Levi was born in the Underground, a street rat, a thief who now commands an army. He kneels in front of Hanji and kisses the back of her hand and swears on his life to protect her. And when he looks up, she’s grinning down at him, a glint of mischief in her eyes. And all he sees are the freckles on the bridge of her nose- the promise of sunshine. And like any creature held for too long in the dark, he learns to seek out the light.

Get up you idiot, don’t make this a habit!

—

She catches him looking. She always does. But they’re young and these stolen glances make up a larger game of push and pull- like the ebb and flow of the waves, when the sea rushes out to meet the land.

The nights are long in her new kingdom. The nights are cold and lonely and long, and her King has a habit of seeking warmth in other places; other bodies.

Levi finds her atop the walls one night, looking up at the stars, and she catches him looking. She always does. She grins at him and he’s thrown off guard, settling for a scowl to distract from the redness spreading to the tips of his ears. But she shifts to create space for him.

Do you want to hear a story?

She says, gentle like calm waters.

So he sits and listens to her talk about the stars in the skies. One story blends into another, and they make this a habit. She paints the world with wonder, vivid strokes across a dull canvass. And Levi watches the stars through the reflection in her eyes.

Levi learns the names of the planets and their moons in her mother tongue.

—

The queen fights her King’s battles. She sails his ships across the seas and flies his flag over foreign lands.

She’s formidable in battle, and her enemies tell tales of her might, and of her mercy.

In the thick of battle, she finds herself looking for him, smile ghosting her lips when she sees him looking at her too.

“Eyes in front of you, four eyes!” He shouts through the thick of death. And she feels brave enough to laugh, “don’t cause too much trouble, Levi.”

They return home victorious, they always do. But the King has an appetite that cannot be satiated. And war chips away at a human soul.

So in the cover of night he slips into her room, and looks at her with an urgency. This is inevitable. He calls out to her, says her name like it’s the only thing good left in this world. All creatures seek out the sun- in their own ways they grow towards light.

This is inevitable. Etched in the palm of her hand as destiny. So she says his name like an epiphany. She lets her robes slip down to her ankles and the waves crash onto shore. Her lover is kind and he’s good in all the ways that Hanji has learnt to recognise. He kisses along her spine, gentle like a drizzle in Spring. She makes him laugh and the sound surprises them both. In these moments, she forgets the rough hand of her King, and she remembers how much she misses dancing in the rain.

Levi looks at her like she’s divine.

She whispers something in his ear like a mantra, in a language he doesn’t understand.

The next time Levi learns to say it back.

They make this a habit.

—

The girl is an Ackerman. She hears her father’s voice in the winds. Focus, my love. Steady on your feet. Do not hesitate.

She lunges with her wooden sword, attacking where Mike is undefended. When she’s older she will exceed him, and even now, she manages to create an opening.

The girl is a Zoë. She hears her mother’s voice in the trees. Think fast, my darling. What are his weaknesses?

She manages to trip him, and when he tumbles over, he sees the glint in her eyes. She’s a feisty one. The girl giggles, falling to the ground to lie beside Mike, and she points out the shapes in the clouds to him.

The girl will have the world at her feet.

—

“It’s yours, I’m sure of it…” Hanji says.

They’re sitting by the lake. Everything is calm, and the cicadas sing like she’s back home where the days are long and the nights go quickly. She has her back against his chest, and his arms have come to snake around her, hands stroking absentmindedly at her growing belly. There’s nobody here. Some days she forgets who she belongs to.

“When the time comes we’ll run away.”

“And leave for the docks?” she breathes. There’s something lurking beyond the horizon, something bigger than the two of them, and the stars are telling her that they will die. The world is in the palm of their King- a man consumed by greed, and theirs is a union cursed from the beginning. But Levi has the strength of a hundred soldiers, so they say, and Hanji has a will that shatters the earth like lightning.

For now, Levi hums a reply and kisses her forehead when she leans back to look at him. The cicadas are still singing their song and when she closes her eyes, it feels like home.

She thinks of her child- their child- and she pictures a mop of raven hair and grey eyes like the sea. And her heart swells. Oh how lucky she has been in this life to have loved a boy as beautiful as he.

Levi knows that any child of Hanji’s will be beautiful. He pictures her nose, and the brightness of her eyes. His eyes widen in awe when he feels a kick against the tautness of Hanji’s skin.

She chuckles, hands coming to intertwine with Levi’s, “she’s a feisty one…”

—

The girl is testament to the waves crashing into shore. To the certainty of sunlight, and the promise of rain.

The neighbour’s boys come round to sneak peeks at her, they leave flowers at the door for the girl with the wild hair and the stars in her eyes. Mike knows Levi would have made quick work of them if he were here.

The girl is born of a boy from the underground who fell in love with the princess of a kingdom across the sea.

And the world is at her feet.

Part III

[capricornus-rex]

Two Sides of the Coin (1)

Chapter 1: Vengeful Vader | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

A/N: I’ve had this idea since April, I’ve already made the outline and everything. But back then I was afraid that it might not be well-received for silly reasons borne from my overthinking. Until an Anon sent this prompt a few weeks or so after I’ve made the original outline. Turns out, I just needed that little push… so, a big thank you to Anon for adding up to the plot and allowing me to finally use my precious OC for this story! ^w^

I wanted to show this to you guys, I just couldn’t wait ^^ : @berenilion​​ @wrongplaces​​ @stellar-trinity​​ @queen-destenie​​ @peterwandaparker​​ @calgasm​​ @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms​​ @sweeetteaa​​ @calsponchoemporium​​ @ayamenimthiriel​​ @superwarsofthrones​​ @fallenjedii​​ @droidrights​ @cal-jestis​

Also in AO3

Tags: Fem OC, Jidne Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC

Next: Part 2 | Masterlist

1 of ?

Darth Vader barely contained the sea overflowing and flooding into the broken glass that the wretched Jedi boy created. While this was no stretch for himself and his abilities, the sight of the boy and the adult woman swimming away to safety while he holds back a wall of water greatly vexed him.

That frustration evolved into anger, Darth Vader literally cut through the tunnel of water using the Force. The water gave way like servants to a king, he had both hands outstretched to the sides, the ripples swirled unnaturally to follow the whim of the Force under Vader’s manipulation. He marched through the corridor and finally reached the end with the door, seawater sloshed and gave for the dark lord.

The door whizzed open, but not a single drop of the sea entered—only Darth Vader. He can now finally rest his arms. The ocean raged in the other side of the door, the bubbling seawater muffled through the blast door. The Sith lord hurried his way to what little remained of the turbolift. He was safe inside that cylinder, away from drowning; he set the elevator to bring him to the highest level, the upper hangars were his destination.

“Commander,” Vader called through the commlink available in the turbolift’s terminal.

“Lord Vader?” the commander acknowledged.

“Have my ship ready in the hangar,”

“Yes, Lord Vader, I’ll personally send you the hangar coordinates,”

Silence on Vader’s end until the transmission cut. Seconds after the call, a tone chirped on the screen of the terminal. A string of text comprised of a single letter and three numbers flashed white against the black screen.

C-848.

Darth Vader knows the location. He remained poised and erect in his posture as he stood at the center of the lift, arms crossed together, head slightly hung low—in this kind of position, he often found himself meditating involuntarily. Although, he preferred his own chambers. The elevator rumbled, the lights flickered for a brief second, and the doors hissed open.

He stepped out of the platform, proceeded along the corridors of the uppermost levels of the fortress. Keeping the hangar coordinates in mind, he knew where a path leads in this place, after all, it was modeled and referenced after his own fortress back in Mustafar. He found the same commander standing by the entrance door of hangar C-848.

“Welcome, Lord Vader. We have your ship prepped, fully-fueled, and calibrated for travel.”

“Very good, Commander. See to it that the damaged areas below sea level are repaired before this whole building collapses.”

The dark lord did not stop his tracks for the niceties. He continued striding across the hangar towards a shuttle; its sleek, ivory body gleamed and stood out against the black, tiled floor of the hangar—emphasizing the symbolism of its elite status and the regal sophistication of its design.

The officer followed his master, but within a safe distance behind him while still in Vader’s earshot. He dared to lean forward, as if hoping to get a reaction from this lumbering machine of a man.

“But, sir, the fortress’s foundation is impregnable! Three to five maintenance units can easily rectify the critical areas and restore the integrity of the building.”

“I do not have the fool’s faith as you do when it comes to infrastructures, Commander. You either do as I say or go down into the bottom of the ocean with the rest of this tower!” Vade rebuked, his strides becoming wider, indicating his impatience and growing annoyance on the commander.

When the officer realized that he has raised his voice against Darth Vader—even for just a pitch higher—he softened up, withdrawing to retain his distance, and felt his stomach sank. Quickly, he thought of a way to ease the lord’s mind or shift his attention somewhere else; he overthought so much that the vein on his temple throbbed—both in self-imposed sheer pressure and fear of what Darth Vader might do to him for speaking back.

“Has the Emperor been reported of this whole ordeal?” he stammered.

Not wishing any more elaborations in this banter, he uses this simple line to leave little to no room for arguments, “Leave all of that to me.”

“As you wish, my lord.” The commander got the hint that there should be no more words further said, he dismissed himself to the command center of the hangar, praying for himself to melt and dissolve into the floor for that exchange, wishing that the last few lines he had traded with the dark lord had never happened.

Darth Vader continued to march through the hangar. His cape billowed with every step, flanked by rows upon rows of Stormtroopers—with militantly straight backs and hands cradling their blasters in an unwavering steadiness—on both of his sides. A pair of crimson-robed guards stood by the entry ramp of the shuttle; hydraulic steam wafted about the vibrant red fabric of their capes while awaiting their master, they didn’t move a single muscle until Darth Vader has fully set foot into the shuttle. They were the last one to board the ship as they flanked behind the Sith lord.

The pilot asked the destination, Vader simply replied with the coordinates of the planet he wishes. Without question, the pilot enters the combination of letters and numbers into the computer, the ship’s system quickly registered the data. He relayed the coordinates to Darth Vader’s command ship, to be immediately done upon his boarding.

“Setting course for Modala.” The pilot announced.

By rote, the pilot connected his speakers to the hangar’s bridge and underwent the standard procedure and protocols—as everybody in any Imperial establishment does: he recites the monotonous, robotic pattern of sentences that he relays to the command center—in return, an operations officer verifies and authorizes the take-off of the shuttle.

The ship was finally allowed to leave the hangar. The sooner they get out of the building, the better, thought Vader—sinking into the sea floor with black fortress debris wasn’t exactly part of his itinerary in this planet. In a bird’s-eye view, the tower looked fine; it shrank in size as the shuttle gained altitude, for a brief second, sheets of clouds obscured Vader’s view of the deep black space. The ship finally pored through Nur’s stratosphere; the tiny ivory speck that is the Imperial shuttle zipped towards one of the bigger ships—the Star Destroyers.

“This is shuttle Revenant, with Darth Vader requesting boarding into command ship Paradox,” the pilot announced casually through the microphone of the cockpit dashboard.

A muffled voice crackled through the speakers, “Request permitted, shuttle Revenant. Proceed to boarding hatch. Welcome, Lord Vader.”

The shuttle hovered itself into an open hatch in the underbelly of the bigger ship. Tractor beams braced the small vessel on both sides and drew it further into the command ship’s interior. A slight quake in the Revenant signaled that they have successfully boarded the Paradox. A tunnel walkway connected the exit ramp into the wide hallway floor of the command ship, Darth Vader saw himself out of the Revenant—flanked by the crimson Royal Guards—and made his way to the bridge, where the operators have already charted a course to Modala and punched it when Vader set foot into the ship.

At the center of the bridge, in front of a window of a full view, stood Vader gazing back at the cluster of Nur—its planet as well as its moons. The sight of the fortress long gone, the dark lord turned his attention to the vacuum of nothingness as black as the heavy armor that cages him.