#one pact oneshot

[mirisss]

One Pact confessing to their crush

One Pact x gn! reader (mostly, mentions reader wearing a dress in Seongmin’s part)

One pact confessing to their crush

Wordcount ≈ 1.8k 

Warnings: Some self-doubt, insecurities mentioned in Seongmin’s part (not liking how your body looks in some clothes), 

Thank you for the request! Hope you like it!

Yoon Jongwoo

Jongwoo tried to play it very cool when he confessed to his crush. He was good friends with you, but throughout the last 3 months, he had tried to be more touchy and do more boyfriend things. All to see your reactions and see if maybe just maybe, his feelings were reciprocated. 

He gave you extra long hugs, a lot of lingering touches, kisses on the forehead and your cheeks, and even some on your nose. He gave you more compliments, he drove you pretty much everywhere, and he payed whenever you ordered anything or ate out. Each action brought out reactions from you, shocked looks, small gasps, blushing, and habits such as biting your very kissable lips, and much more. 

After 3 months, he decided that it was time to risk everything. He was going to confess. Jongwoo prepared your favorite flowers, your favorite candy, and a cute plushie of your favorite animal. He walked toward your door, knocked on it, and then he waited. When you opened the door, you were shocked to find Jongwoo standing on the other side holding the flowers and everything. 

You opened your mouth, about to say something when Jongwoo interrupted you. “Before you say anything, hear me out,” You just nodded in response. “I like you, (Y/n), a lot, like I’m in love with you, and I hope you like me too,” Once he finished his little monologue he gave you a cute smile. You broke out into a smile happily taking the flowers from him. “Of course, I like you too!”   

Jay Chang

Jay had asked you to come to watch him do some busking in the streets, you said yes, I mean who would want to miss an opportunity to listen to Jay sing? You loved his voice so it was a no-brainer. He was so happy to see you standing there despite the rain as the autumn weather was catching up with the world. Jay noticed that your jacket wasn’t very thick so between some songs he hurriedly gave you an extra jacket that he had brought, you happily took it and put it over you. 

Jay began singing some songs, one that you didn’t recognize, it took a while for you to notice that it was an original song of his because of the fact that it seemed so familiar. He sang about falling in love with his best friend, the more you listened the more you recognized the things he sang about, moments you had spent together. You began thinking that Jay was being serious, that he was in love with you. 

As the song came to an end, Jay took hold of the mic, bringing it with him toward you, he stopped right in front of you, singing the last line, “I give you my heart to keep, please be mine” he reached out with his free hand toward you, in it laid a necklace with a beautiful heart charm. Jay looked nervous as he gazed into your eyes, wishing that you’d accept his heart. You took the necklace from him, holding it close to you, nodding your head. The people around you cheered and clapped their hands, happy for the new young couple. 

Oh Seongmin

Seongmin did not plan on confessing the day that he did. He had a whole plan and everything, however, he ended up throwing the plan away when he sporadically confessed. The two of you were out shopping like any other day the two of you did some serious shopping where you bought things you needed and also some joke shopping where you picked the ugliest clothes you could find and tried them on. Sharing a laugh at the ridiculous outfits you put together. 

“Minnie, I have to buy a new dress for that event next week, help me find a good one?” “Of course,” He smiled brightly as always, leading you into a store that displayed many beautiful dresses, all of which would look amazing on you, he thought. You looked through many dresses, finding some that you wanted to try on. After finding 12 dresses that you liked, the two of you headed over to the fitting rooms. You tried on the first dress, it was beautiful but the fabric wasn’t very nice, it was a bit itchy, so on to the next one it was. And so you continued for a while, no dress felt 100%. You were now at the last one. The fabric was soft and nice, the color complemented your skin wonderfully, when you stepped out of the changing room, Seongmin felt his heart racing, you looked absolutely stunning. 

“Woah,” “I know, it doesn’t look good at all, on me I mean, the dress is perfect, but not for me,” “What do you mean? You look stunning, amazing,” “You’re only saying that to be nice,” “No, I’m not, I’m being honest. (Y/n), look at me,” He turned you around, standing behind you, the two of you faced the big mirror in the fitting room. He gazed at you lovingly as he explained each detail that made you look beautiful. “You’re perfect, (Y/n), always have been and you always will be in my eyes, because I love you,” The second he said it, he realized that the words had slipped from his mouth. “You love me?” “I’m in love with you, (Y/n), I truly am,” You turned around, now facing him. “I love you too, Seongmin, will you be my date to the event?” “No force in the world could stop me,” 

Yeom Taegyun / TAG

Tag didn’t know how to bring it up in a conversation. He had tried for months, yet whenever he tried, the words escaped him. He could write thousands of songs and sing and rap without a problem, but facing the love of his life and telling them that he was in love with them was impossible. After consulting with one of his good friends, Jongwoo, he was given the idea of writing a love letter. One letter turned into ten. He had so much to say and once he began writing, he just couldn’t stop. The words and emotions flowed out of him as a river running down a mountain. 

Tag began secretly sending you these letters, one each week. You were surprised that you had a secret admirer, but you were very intrigued, trying to figure out who it could be. Telling Tag about all of your suspicions and the candidates for the position. Tag was disappointed when he wasn’t one of them. He persisted and kept sending you the letters, each one making you feel more and more special. “Tag, you don’t understand the way this guy writes is just magical. It’s like he’s painting a picture with words. No one I’ve dated before has ever said these things or treated me like I’m special, this guy makes me feel seen, like he loves me for me and not my body or something superficial,” After that conversation, Tag went home to write a new letter, one he would give you the day after. 

When you woke up that morning, a familiar envelope lay in front of your door after being delivered earlier in the morning. You ran over to it, opening it immediately. The text inside shocked you to your very core. 

Dear (Y/n), unless I’ve been unclear in earlier letters, I’m in love with you. To me you shine as bright as the sun, coloring my world in bright light, bringing me to life. You are so much more than just your appearance, your soul and your being makes me believe in angels because you must be one. I’ve tried telling you how special you are for years and I’ve tried to confess my love for months, yet whenever I look into your sparkling eyes and see your smile, I can’t think. I get lost in your beauty. I’ll be waiting at our spot by the Han River from 12. If you reciprocate my feelings, come meet me there, if you don’t, just forget about this and don’t show up. I’ll get over it. But please, I hope you like me too. 

Love, your Taggy

You looked at the clock, it was 11. You got dressed and began your commute over to the spot where you and Tag always hang out. Ready to kiss him on the lips because you too had loved him for years. 

Lee Yedam

Yedam, like Seongmin, confessed accidentally. He was torn between whether or not he should say something or not, he could come up with equal pros and cons to confessing and not confessing. He truly didn’t know what to do. So in his torn and tired state, he took out his phone, and wrote a long message to his good friend, Jay, asking for advice on if he should confess or not. What he didn’t notice was that he clicked on your name instead of Jay’s in his messaging app. 

* Yedam, who is it you’re thinking of confessing to? 

* (Y/n), of course. Who else? Jay come on, you know I’m only in love with (Y/n)

You were shocked to read your own name, and then see Jay’s. Yedam thinks he’s messaging Jay, and not me. 

* Right, sorry. Dude, Idk what you should do. Maybe just say it? 

* But what if she doesn’t like me back? 

* I think you’ll be fine, Ye

Yedam didn’t react at first, but then he saw it. The only one who calls him Ye is you. He looked at the contact, clearly saying “(Y/n) 💕🥹🥰” and not “Jay-hyung 👍”

* (Y/n) omg, um, this was a joke. Okay, hehe, a joke

* so like don’t think about, okay?

*Ye, tell me the truth. Do you like me? Like you know, like like me

It took a while before he answered

* Yes. Please don’t hate me 🥺

* Come over to my place so we can talk face to face? 

* Already on my way!

Yedam hurried over to your place, scared and nervous, yet a little excited. After he knocked on your door, you opened it within seconds, before he could even say hello, you put your hands on his cheeks, bringing his face closer to yours and kissing him. “I like you too, Lee Yedam,” 

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐘 ꒱ 윤종우

summary : you decided you wanted to renovate your apartment, and who else to assist in distracting you than your loving—tall—boyfriend, jongwoo

genre : fluff, suggestive, jongwoo x afab!reader tws : language, pet names, kiss, slightly suggestive dialogue author notes : ^ω^ beyond help delusional word count : 0.9k

it all started when you decided that you wanted to change the interior design of your studio apartment. you had been living there for a couple years now, and seeing the boring decorations wasn’t bringing you any sort of joy after long work days.

you had honestly been feeling quite depressed inside the dark confines of a place that was supposed to bring you comfort. yes, it had lots of natural light in actuality, big ceiling to floor windows, and even various house plants. but you couldn’t help feeling like it wasn’t you anymore; dim and dull. you had grown older—cut people off and made new friends—you had changed, but your space hadn’t.

spring was coming, and you had decided very late at night that it was the perfect time for you to draft projects, create pinterest boards and search amazon.

of course texting various people for conformation that this was actually a terrific idea.

now, you were nervously biting your lip as you read over the paint colors on the shelf. luckily for you, your lease had no rules against coloring the walls whatever you wanted, as long as when you moved out, you painted them neutral again.

“what the hell does cornsilk even mean?” you looked to your crouched down boyfriend, who you had made come over to assist in the renovations; however, he put up no protest, just wanting to be with you. he was also one of the people who had confirmed that it was a good idea, obviously supporting you wholeheartedly.

he laughed breathily. “you just want white? what’s with the stupid names?”

you stood on your tiptoes, leaning over him and reading eggshell. “i want this one,” he stood up too, having a higher reach than you, and picking it off the shelf. “because it’ll match the pink of the cabinets.” he put it in the cart, next to your new curtains, a couple cute plates, bowls and mugs, as well as hardware to hang a mirror you had bought online.

you two had purchased everything in the cart, as well as miscellaneous items to put on shelves and countertops—that you had thrown into the cart last second.

of course, today had to be the day your elevator stopped working. it was getting ridiculous how much your life had started resembling a sit-com; but at least it brought you joy.

you had three bags of random junk on your arms, juggling a lamp and an extension cord in the other. your boyfriend wasn't free of struggles either, but it was arguably a little less breakable than what you had.

"baby," you huffed, coming to a stop outside your locked apartment door. "i can't grab my keys," you shoved your hips out, making it known that they happen to be in your back pocket. "no funny business, though. i can't afford to replace this light."

he laughed, but easily retrieved the jingling metal. jongwoo pressed up against your body, making you scoff in disbelief, as he unlocked the door.

he pouted innocently. "you said no funny business. i'm just unlocking the door for you, love."

"your duality scares me." you voiced, entering before him, and setting the things (that were cutting your circulation off) on the kitchen peninsula. "no funny business, my ass."

"exactly." he laughed, shutting the door and putting his bags next to yours. "what do you want to do first?"

"probably move everything so the couch doesn't end up with paint all over it."

jongwoo crossed his arms over his chest, looking over to the living room space of your small apartment. "you're lucky I agreed to help you." he laughed out, and you skipped up into his personal space, wrapping your arms around him. "you probably would be able to do it without me, but let me believe its because i'm strong."

you got up onto your tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "thank you." he then meticulously trapped you between his arms, chest to chest. "and you are strong. i gotta make you hold the couch while i stuff a rug under it. but before that, you gotta help me move it, pretty please."

your arms squeezed his torso tighter as you looked up to him. and jongwoo loved looking in your eyes—it was riveting at this point—as arguably, his favorite past time. once again, you went onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips, which was gladly reciprocated. and for a moment you both debated not stopping, turning it a little more than innocent; until you brought it back, and broke apart.

"woah," you laughed, a little breathlessly. "i thought i said no funny business."

he squeezed you tighter to his body as you tried to back away. "not even a little?"

your eyes narrowed playfully. "no, not even a little." he pressed another kiss too your unsuspecting lips, "jongwoo... i want to at least get something done before you start messing around. gotta put your height and arms to work!"

he released you. "fine! but after that you're all mine, right?"

you rolled your eyes, making your way over to your couch to push the smallest piece further to the wall—in which you weren't going to paint.

you looked up at him with a huff, "yes, whatever you want."

he giggly skipped over to you with a satisfied grin plastered to his face.

"remember those words, baby."

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

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[vampirecatboy]

Wyll is 24 years old.......... if anyone should be at the club, he should be at the club

[milkywayan]

Andromeda – Great Old One Warlock, Mephistopheles Tiefling, Sage Background

Backstory under the cut

When, where and to what parents Andromeda was born – or what her real name was, she did not know. Her first memories were of The Library, a giant castle in the Sunset mountains, inhabited by a group of very old, very powerful, and very eccentric wizards.

The group of wizards in question had been educated together – a very long time ago – met up a century later to kill a dragon for the fun of it, and then decided to work together, merging all their personal libraries and making it their quest to expand it.

But a library of this size was hard to manage, and the elementals conjured to defend it were no help in actually organise the books, a task for which the group of wizards themselves were too busy for.

Thus, they started to take in orphans – children with no family, and no future, in a pretence of being philanthropic, and to give them a chance to a better life, while instead using them as cheap labour.

The children grew up in the vast library, educated to be perfect librarians, and being free to read about what they liked. Many of course started to learn magic, fascinated by what they found, and amazed by what the wizards of the library were able to do, and so over the years, many talented spellcasters emerged from the castle, on a quest to gather more knowledge, and to find new books to bring home.

Andromeda was one of the orphans taken in, named after a star, by one of the wizards who oversaw her education. The wizard in question was R’lyeh, a mindflayer with arcane powers, who had managed to cut himself off the elder brain.

Andromeda was like a sponge for knowledge, reading about everything she could, and always asking too many questions. At an early age already, she grew more and more fascinated by the Far Realms, asking her mentor all about the place, where his own race originated from.

The young tiefling ventured ever deeper into the libraries, finding books about other dimensions, and great old gods beyond the comprehension of mortals. Most of the books were complete gibberish at first, but started to make more and more sense the more time she spent reading them, puzzle pieces falling together.

Sometimes she spent days in the depths of the library, forgetting everything around her, forgetting to eat and sleep, her eyes glued to the pages, unable to focus on anything else but the knowledge that made her dizzy.

One book in particular had gripped her, a hand written tome bound in strange, greenish leather, filled with spells and rituals and secrets, most of them completely incomprehensible. It gave instructions on how to connect with the Far Realms, how to tap into the knowledge and powers of an elder being, and Andromeda could not think of anything she wanted more.

Parts of the library were still filled with empty shelves – to soon be filled with rare tomes and books – and this was where Andromeda headed one night, alone in the darkness, with candles and books, to set up what she needed for the ritual.

She sat down on the cold stone floor, painting onto the tiles the strange symbols and images, candles illuminating the scene, as she chanted in a Deep Speech. The light of the candles turned green, the shadows around her deepening, as if only she and the small circle of light was real anymore. Her mind opened up, felt infinite and too small at the same time, and she felt a foreign intelligence connect to hers.

There were eyes, too many eyes, and tentacles, in a mass of moving flesh, grotesque but yet so beautiful that Andromeda was in awe.

She pulled a dagger out of her robes, the blade glowing green like the candles, her hand guided by something that was not entirely her own will.

She groaned as she carved into the flesh of her face, knowing the pattern without having to see herself, guided by the foreign intelligence. The cuts bled, and glowed, and with every new movement of her dagger, she felt the connection to the Far Realms grow.

There was no communication, no words, only feelings, sensations, thoughts, images.

Yes, this was right, yes this was good.

The last cut was placed and the dagger fell to the ground, the sound so far away that Andromeda did not even hear it. All she could see was eyes and tentacles, and Aeus. The Great Old being, the eldritch god. Aeus.

There were no words but there was a question, and Andromeda said yes – no, she screamed yes. Yes!

Seething pain was in her eyes as everything went dark, tentacles sprouting out of her eye sockets and she screamed in pain, before unconsciousness took her.

She did not know how long she had been gone, but when she woke up again she was lying in a puddle of dark, black, blood, the candles around her burnt up. There was a whisper in the back of her mind, soothing and reassuring, and urging her to know, urging her to find out.

She flexed her hands, and felt power, magic flow through her, a grin appearing on her face, realising that it had worked.

Returning to her rooms, washing up, she saw the aftermath of the ritual, the cuts in her face that would lead to scars she would wear forever. But not only that, no – around her eyes, where the tentacles had sprouted, they were now marked on her face, as if tattooed on. A branding, a sign. Aeus was looking out through her eyes.

R’lyeh was not surprised, seeing her, telling her that he has expected that it was just a matter of time for her to go down that path. He encouraged her to learn, to study, to find out more about the realms, the material world and beyond, to sate the hunger of knowledge her new patron had.

A few years later, on an errand for the library to pick up books that had been sent, Andromeda was abducted by the mindflayer ship, strangely enough not.. not that afraid.

Her close bond with her mentor, and her knowledge of the Far Realms made her.. curious more than anything.

She embraces the tadpole powers, pushes the boundaries and maybe trusts a certain being more than is advisable.

[honestsycrets]

mío | baby-fever!miguel o'hara x wifey!reader

❛ pairing | miguel o'hara x wifey!reader, starved prequel

❛ type | oneshot, explicit

❛ summary | after watching mayday, miguel develops a bad case of baby fever, longing for a family of his own.

❛ tags | explicit, miguel has baby fever, babysitting, talk of family planning and contraception, f!reader, breeding, pregnancy kink, much fluff, some angst, starved!reader, miguel being frustrated and cute, clean that kitchen, one stereotype of latina women, Spanish is not translated, best friend!peter, self edited.

❛ request fulfilled | could you possibly write an imagine in which Miguel and his wife take care of mayday? + multiple requests for more starved reader/miguel.

❛ sy's notes | written to fulfill some requests. i do have another daddy miguel blurb to fulfill, but my future works should be nice and angsty.

Peter has it out for him.

It’s the only logical reason why he’d do this shit to him.

Miguel stood in his dark room in a pair of scratchy jeans, dragging a belt loop to loop when he heard the door to his room draw open. A resonant schwap, schwap, schwap.

“Mi reina?” Miguel cocked his eyebrow up, extending his claws.

“¿Sí?” you called back from the bathroom, the distant scent of his favorite perfume wafting into the air. Miguel threw a look to the bathroom, reaching for the bedroom door. It burst open before he could open it. 

“Hi, Miguel! Where’s your wife?”

Peter dragged his feet into the room, whirling around with a sloppily put-together backpack that leaked diapers onto the floor. An exasperated breath left his lips, dripping in the way he looked at Peter.

Unfortunately, his little wife liked Peter a bit too much for his taste.

“I should have known.” Miguel ran his hand through his hair, strands of mocha brown flyaways wisping along his tawny forehead. “Why are you here?”

His normally disheveled appearance was a little more disheveled. It wasn’t his appearance that bothered him but how it reached his eyes. Shocked, confused, tired. Peter pat his deltoid, awkward laughter choking in his throat. It bubbled on the edge of an overwhelmed sob.

“Well, you see, your wife said she’d watch Mayday because I have a date, and I haven’t had a date in a really, really long time. Like, a really long time—”

“Is Peter here?”

His head snapped to your bathroom where you came out, threading a golden hoop earring. You probably already knew the fight that was heading your way-- but for your part, you couldn’t be bothered to care any less.

“Got it, you need this date.” Miguel cut Peter off, standing behind you with his massive arms crossed. “¿Por qué no me dijiste?”

“¡Mi nena! Muévete Miguel,” you giggled, shoving your way past Miguel to Peter’s child carrier, sneaking your hands underneath her little armpits and whirling her around. She cackled, a glittering warmth to her mischievous eyes. You came to a stop, settling Mayday against your chest, nuzzling your foreheads together in some secret pact that the two of you shared.

Oh no, no, no, no. Not this. It hits him at once.

The sight of his wife— beautiful and cuddly with a very young baby in her arms. The only sight more beautiful was at the altar on his wedding day, your shy smile behind a sheer veil. It had been a long time, too long, since he had someone to call him father. He can still picture her glimmering eyes, the way she looked at him in nothing short of admiration, looking past the things that he’d done to see him and only him. Glimpsing at Mayday, remembering Gabriella’s soft, small face, it took him a moment to snap free. 

He's so fucked.

“You would have said no, amado mío.” 

You’re a natural at this, scooting by both men to set Mayday on the bed. Your tiny fingers spiraled out from her belly to change her diaper. Peter jittered uncomfortably, looking as though he wanted to jump in himself. You cleaned her, replacing the dirty diaper with a clean one. “We’re going to a market with Tío Miguel--” 

“Don’t bring me into this.”

“Are you sure it's okay? I’ll be back at five, it's just a few hours, really--” 

“¡Vete! A ratty house robe and a dirty spider suit aren’t sexy. Look at mi Miggy,” now you’re just buttering him up. He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, inspecting the ground. “Wear something nice.” 

They’re sexy to her, he might have murmured. Not on a date, you bopped him. Mayday’s bright eyes tracked the space between you and Peter before you broke away to wash your hands. Peter’s clammy hands cupped Mayday’s sweet face, littering at least a dozen sickly daddy kisses over her tiny face. But Miguel what if--

“Adiós, Peter!” You returned to force Peter out of your room. Miguel peered at Mayday whose head snapped to the side, cheek against her fiery hair as the door clicked shut. He braced himself for the shrill that would inevitably come with her realization that her daddy was gone. She whined, grabbing her toes and tipping nearly off the side of the bed. Miguel begrudgingly hovered at her feet, blocking her from rolling off the bed. He could do this, he told himself, he could resist those giant baby eyes staring up at him.

He didn't need a baby, he didn't.

He blames Peter for having such a good baby.

She doesn’t ask for much other than requiring chest-to-chest contact with Miguel. It’s not that he doesn’t want to hold her, he finds himself aggravated by how much he likes to be around her. In a market full of things to look at food trinkets such as necklaces, body scrubs, and empanadas, it’s all her. Miguel props her up with an arm just under her bum, her tiny finger peeking curiously into his fangs. He snapped his teeth playfully at her, a nip, nip, nip, missing playfully every time. It rips ping a toothy grin across her face. 

“No biting Miguelito,” you called out, sliding your fingers in a teasing ring around his muscled back to chest. You leaned up on your tippy toes, placing a small little kiss on his lips. You ran off to go get her a pineapple whip after her tiny fist yanked your hair over and over again. You relented, staring at what she was cooing at. Sweets-- obviously, sweets. All the little ones loved sweets. 

“She likes it.” 

“Ya sé,” you said, “But we don’t need anyone noticing you’ve grown fangs.” 

“Tch,” he clicks his teeth in protest. She does too, throwing you a mean look for interrupting her fun. You plucked up a bit of the whip on your spoon, cutting through her displeasure through the power of sugar. 

"There's a lot of people here, Miggy, let's go to the park." You point toward the park, pointing away from the mounds of fresh produce and locally sourced goods toward a healthy patch of green grass. Miguel is glad-- he’s sick of being stared at for his huge frame. Despite the ring on his finger, people still seem to try their luck. He couldn't be more disinterested.

You lay a picnic blanket as Miguel holds Mayday's treat. Mayday sprawls across his chest, trying to take just one more bite-- then another-- Miguel looks down, chin level, eyebrow raised. She offers a bit on her tiny index finger to Miguel. A peace offering. “She’s not going to wait.” 

“Give her to me.” You kicked off your sandals on the edge of the blanket, dropping your things on another corner. You pluck Mayday from Miguel’s arms and set her down on the blanket in a way that is too easy. As though you wouldn’t have much of a learning curve in becoming a mother. No, no— you never mentioned anything about kids. Did you even want kids? He couldn't bring his heart to ask, to hope again.

“I didn’t know you were so experienced with kids.” 

“Mami had six,” you noted, plopping down with the whip by Mayday’s side. She sat with a small slant, reaching out toward the sweet treat again with those chunky, adorable hands. You brought her into your lap, at last relenting. “When you’re the oldest, you have to learn a little something to help out. Can you imagine-- being pregnant six times? Ay no.”

“How many times do you want to be pregnant?” he blurts out. Usually timed and precise, the question causes him to pinch his brow as he sits beside you. “Si quieres,” 

Your other hand comes on top of his and shifts it away from his face. 

“As many as will make you happy.” 

Shock. He chews on that response, his eyes glued to Mayday lapping at the last spoon of sweets you are willing to give her. She falls into a fit of complaints, a conniving look at the sweets, just as you lift her onto your shoulder.

"I never thought about it."

"No more, your papa won't forgive me if I bring you home all sugared up," you tsked your tongue at her. You patted along her back in small, tight circles until her angry huffs faded away. He reaches for the baby bag, slipping free a soft yellow blanket with white spiders strewn across the front. Miguel slides the blanket on top of Mayday’s small body, her groggy eyes sliding closed.

The more he watches you with Mayday, holding her so close, swaying as you held her, the deeper this ache burrowed in his chest. You would look beautiful all swollen with his child. Never mind Mayday or Peter, he can nearly see it, feel it under his fingers, the feeling of your taut belly under his skin, or the kick of tiny feet against his palm.

“We’ll see, Miggy.” 

We’ll see-- the answer seems too noncommittal, too distant to be a satisfactory answer. With Mayday sound asleep, you settle her between your plush thighs. She expelled bursts of energy that milked her energy dry.

A little old woman passed by, her cane pierced soft grass as she moved closer with a bag of tomatoes and green beans. Her face, aged by time, pulls into a wide smile. He doesn't like her smile.

“You two are doing a great job. How old is she?” 

You blink, looking up into the woman’s cool blue eyes, her dark hair peppered with thick grey and white strands. You tuck Mayday in her soft blanket, sparing the woman a kind smile that Miguel doesn’t quite have the patience for. 

“Oh, oh. Thank you-- um, a couple of months,” you recount, perhaps thinking of Peter’s anxious pacing or his delighted shouts about becoming a father. 

“Adopting is a great option. Back in the day, my husband was a bodybuilder too. Had a low sperm count don’t you know. Steroids shrink things. Oh, but these days you can do all sorts of things like IV--”

A what-- Miguel’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull at the suggestion. Was this old bitch’s suggestion that he couldn’t do it-- couldn’t get you pregnant? He could easily do that. If he wanted you pregnant, you would be shocking pregnant. He’d be damned if some old woman put it in your mind that he couldn’t.

“We’re babysitting for a friend,” he blurts out. “I have--” had, “a daughter.” 

“Oh, do you? I’m sorry. I thought-- well, it doesn’t matter what I thought, have a good day."  

She’s saying that, but it comes out slanted. You don’t bother correcting Miguel, not on this. Rather, your hand inched toward his, picking up on the energy that was pluming from his body in waves. Irritation-- annoyance-- the little old lady hobbles off. You’re in your mind well enough to bid her goodbye. But you know better than to say anything more, slumping your cheek on Miguel’s firm chest. It makes the ache of Gabriella's memory a little more bearable. 

 Low sperm count his ass. 

It bothers him long after Mayday is gone. Peter, for his part, looks refreshed. He supposes that’s what happens with a full day of opportunity to empty your balls after weeks of no relief. It bothers him long after you come back from the kitchen, his favorite dark red slip plastered to your perfect body. It would look beautiful, full of his children— he just knows it. 

“I may have hijacked the kitchen a little bit,” you teased, the waft of warm chicken and brewed spices filled his nose. He had no appetite. “But I made you some pollo guisado.” 

“Hm,” he grunts into a pillow. “Later.”

Beside the bed, he has a bowl of brightly colored condoms. With your sensitivity to birth control, it is the best option available. It wasn’t, however, something he was ever happy about. He should be able to feel your body. Not once had he felt your body pure and unadulterated, warm and perfect for him. He was your husband. He wanted that moment— to fill you up just once, watch his cum dribble out of your cunt. It would be perfect. You set the food away, bowl and spoon clinking together.

“Miguel.” 

Forget your warm body. This room is too quiet. It is almost stifling in its silence. Mayday’s sweet huffs, the memory of Gabriella’s laughter. A proper home full of a child's giggles. He’s going crazy-- he has to be-- this isn’t normal. This isn’t Miguel. 

“Mi vida, don’t pout,” you reach out, rolling your fingers through his long brown hair. Your fingers tease along his scalp, turning around his ear. Your fingers tickle his lobe, your voice cemented in a concern that he wanted nothing more but to fix if it were anything other than this. “Miggy. Miggy, what is wrong? You look sad.”

“I’m not sad,” he says with a whine on his pillow. How silly he must look with his broad arms wound around the body pillow, squeezing its fluff for life. If he said the words well enough, you might believe them. 

“I know you are,” you nudge the pillow loose. He takes you instead, the air thickening with the closeness. You fed off the tension, sliding your leg over the sheet that covers his naked hip. “Tell me why.” 

He turns his hands over your thighs, traveling past your hips to ghost along your belly. 

“Sí, Miggy?” 

“I need…” he trailed off, finding the words nearly impossible to admit. They grow into a ball and cement in his throat, present but stubborn. Rather than break the words free, he swallows a bolus of desire and frustration. “It’s nothing. Let it go.”

The issue was— you loved him enough to let it do so. 

Miguel doesn’t want to press the issue. He knows you. All you want is Miguel’s happiness. Sometimes, he worries it is at the price of your own. The distance he places between you and him is intolerable. It bothers him every time he finds you babysitting Mayday.

Today, while Peter goes on a small date, you and Mayday make his favorite empanadas. She’s covered in a dusting of flour from head to toe. Peter would have fun with that. 

“Miggy you’re back?” you called as Mayday’s chubby hands shot out, nearly plopping off the counter if not for Miguel’s quick reflexes, setting her back in place. 

“Empanadas?” he settles the words in a small kiss to your lips. You glance at him over your shoulder. 

“It's... it's Gabi's birthday, isn't it?"

You’re too good for him. Despite the day coming and going, no one else notices his grief today. Not even Peter who came in alongside him, reading the room, and snatching up Mayday off the countertop. He’s babbling something, a thank you, see you later— you kiss Mayday with only the sweetness a mother could know.  

“Peter! Mayday made these for you,” you reach out to a box of uncooked empanadas. “Take them home!”

Her first empanadas— the delight is palpable. Peter may have snapped a photo, or ten, of his little flour girl on the way out, empanadas in hand. Then there’s silence. Miguel returns the nearly forgotten bundle of empanada dough and filling to the fridge in the space of unspoken tension. Miguel dips down to your neck, caramelized perfume warm on your neck. His lips trace the warm pulse of your neck. 

“Mami,” his voice mesmeric, warm like the filling you used to make him happy when no one else could. Your doting attention, even in the face of real issues like work and babies, was always on him.

"Sí, mi vida?"

His hands coast around your waist, using his strength to gently turn you around. It isn’t important right now. What is important is how he lifts you up onto the floury surface, purring his need into your slight ear. “I want a baby.”

“¿Qué?”

“Una niña,” Miguel leans his fingers along your collarbone. 

“Oh, Miggy.” You puff the words. They come out almost wounded. You know him so well, the vulnerability of the words causing him to look down. Your warm palms cradle his cheeks, forcing him to look into your eyes. “You miss being a father, don't you?”

You’re not stupid. Neither is he. He thought he could wait— watch Mayday grow up and not feel this sundering longing. As though he could stomach never feeling a child in his arms again. The ghosts of the past that came with Mayday’s longing haunt him day by day. 

You devour his insecurity, winding your legs around his waist and forcing him forward. He stumbles into your embrace, as though he were not a man who could decimate villains and spiders alike. When he was here, in your arms, he barely felt like the weapon of a man that he is. 

“Miguel. Speak to me.”

“You’re right,” he can’t lie— can’t hide the longing that comes with the thought of his own child on his chest. Not Mayday, no matter how many times she cuddled up to his chest. At the end of the day, she would never be his. You drew your lip into your mouth, nipping it fat and red, a bob in your head. His heart beats faster, strumming as though it would break free from his chest. Whatever it is you’re thinking he’s not sure. Only that it’s been so long.

“I just want to make you happy, will this make you happy?” you nearly whisper, knowing that there’s no one but him to hear the words. It’s what he wants for you, too. As he stands there, coursing his fingers along your thighs and hiking your dress up your hips, he can’t help but feel the foggy discomfort of forcing you into parenthood before you were ready. 

“It will.”

As well as it could. It would never erase Gabriella-- and, in the vulnerability of begging his wife for another child, came the guilt. Not only the guilt of failing to be a proper father or to protect her but moving on without her in his life to a beautiful family she would have loved. The feelings surge in his chest, a well of uncomfortable emotions in his eyes, threatening to fall. 

“Miguel,” you’re whispering, your fingers cutting across his sharp cheekbones. You cup his face, drawing your lips together in a commanding kiss. You never liked being ignored or forgotten. He’s not sure how he could now, with your tongue flicking between his lips, begging him to come back with a sugary sweet whine. “Stay with me, Miguel.” 

“I am,” he says, gripping either side of the counter by your hips. He feels your eyes on him, soft and careful, pressuring him to meet your gaze. He searches for an inkling of an answer in your gaze. "¿Qué piensas?"

“We can try,” you bite your lip, sliding it free between your teeth. “If you don’t have a low sperm count,” you tease. “Maybe it’ll take.” 

“¡Por dios!” He throws a curse to the side as if he believed in such a being, throwing a look back at you. “You don’t actually believe that vieja.” 

“Ay Miggy, of course not.” His lips work into a budding smile. You leaned up against his stubbly jaw, setting soft kisses there. Your lipstick stains his neck, dragging down to his prominent adam’s apple. He looks down at you with heady eyes, tracing the way you suckled a mark on his throat. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like them a little more when others noticed them, little marks of possession. Miguel’s fingers come up to the straps of your dress, easing them over and down your slight shoulders. You pull back, words forming puff against his neck. 

“Not right here,” you inhale a soft breath. “Someone could come in.” 

Miguel eases his finger over the small bud of your breast, rolling his thumb along the silken skin, His hand comes up, encompassing your neck and shoving you back into the cabinets. It isn’t comfortable, not by far. He works the nub to its peak before turning his attention to the other. His mouth covers your breast, fangs grazing your nub as he suckled and tugged gently. Miggy, you pull him back up, stripped of your touch. Your hand slide across Miguel’s chest, tracing the taut muscles of his chest. 

“Who would come in?” 

“Peter,” you answer. 

It’s always Peter. He supposes that you wouldn’t want your friend to see you here, cunt stuffed with Miguel on the very same counter you earlier made him empanadas on. Miguel snatched the dress that fell along your hips laxly, utilizing it to yank you off the counter. You fell forward into Miguel, a heavy wall of muscle, your lips failing to form anything of use. You looked at him, cheeks flush and eyes doting, he’s the only one you see. 

“The balcony, then.” 

“Dianche, Miguel! Do you want all of Nueva York to see me?” 

“Maybe.” 

No, but see Miguel breeding you? Undoubtedly yes.

He couldn’t simply choose the bed, that would be too easy. Miguel set a kiss on your forehead, soft and scratchy with his stubble. You return it by dragging him down for another kiss, a wave of warmth coming over him as you force your hips back onto him, rolling your hips against his, teasing him. Miguel doesn’t appreciate the tease and gently pushes on your hips, motioning you to face the counter. 

“Bend over.” 

"Can't we go to my room?" you complain but comply all the same. Miguel’s palm ghosts your spine, dragging his fingers smoothly over the middle of your back and past the dress that gathered around your hips, He strips you of the little cover the dress gave, eager to have you bare and rid of the thin clothing that served as a veil from prying eyes. Miguel can cover you from the prying eyes of others if necessary. Not that he cared if others saw him fucking-- he’s all the more eager to have you all to himself, here and now. 

“No panties,” he notes, his warm hands on your inner thighs. “It’s almost like you knew.” 

“I might have,” you return, spreading your legs obediently for him. He palms your vulva, your hips shifting down over his hand. Sticky and wet, he wonders if his need to breed you has rubbed off on you too. His fingers shift, sliding over your soft hole. “Apúrate Miguel, you’re so slow.”  

“Can’t you be be good for once.”

You were always bossy. He likes it, most the time, being led around by what his pretty little wife wants. Today he wants to take his time, curving his broad fingers into your glistening cunt. Your wetness drips over his knuckles, fingers teasing the velvety soft walls he has never felt without a condom. A pleasured cry wracks in your chest, turning your head over your shoulder to watch Miguel’s fingers stretching you out. No matter how much your walls gave under his fingers, you would still ache when he penetrated you. It was the favourite part, the rich pull of his dick into your hole, bottoming out as best he could in your stomach. He soothes your complaints by grazing his other hand against your perky clitoral hood, finding the soft nub there for relief. You settle your arms on the floured surface.

“I never-- ah-- am,” you threw back.

Miguel slipped his fingers free, cupping your cunt with his palm for a teasing slap. You want to be good-- it’s just so hard, your cunt pulsing in the abswnce of his touch. He drags his sodden fingers to your lips, glazing them in taste of your lubricant. You suckle your tongue around his thick digits, savoring your own taste, his soft grunt of approval spurring you on. You feel like such a good girl with his fingers crooked in your mouth. 

“Are you ready?” Miguel stands fully upright, dragging your hips to his. He’s hard as the counter you were pathetically clinging onto. His hipbones ground into your plush ass, dick pulsing in his immediate ache to feel your cunt. He backs up, fiddling with something at the waist. You don’t need to ask to know that it was his big cock grinding between your cheeks, smearing fluid over your slit.

“No condom?” 

“No condom,” he affirms. You bow your head, nodding gently over the countertop. The head of his cock drove into your wetness, pushing past bundles of nerves. It’s impossibly different without the bag over his dick. It’s been so long. His world blinks out, savoring the feeling like he was an inexperienced teenager again. 

“Carajo, you’re so good,” he finds himself cursing, leaning over your back. 

“Now he says I’m good."

“Shh,” Miguel clips with a mean nip at your nape, lining it with soft kisses, encouraging you on to take him. Warm and wet, Miguel can only describe the slide into your cunt as untethered delight. Released from the bondage of his usual condom, he’s a mess against your soaked cunt, gripping you for a semblance of stability. 

I just want to make you happy. For all your needy complaints and little quips, he knows you do. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here, with your hands cupped on top of his, squeezing for more closeness. Miguel laces your fingers together in a needy weave, drawing back to stroke his cock right back into your wet body. You lead one of his hands between your legs, urging him on to stroke your clit. Your walls clamp down on him, teasing out bursts of pleasure with how deeply he was buried. Miguel’s lips part into a whine of his name, skin slapping against skin. He sets a kiss in the crook of your neck, breath nearly unbearable. 

“Mami,” he gasps, the word coming out between his unstable thrusts. Your eyes shut hard, sparks of pleasure winding and building in your core. “Give me a baby.”

“Sí papi,” you heave, “I”m trying to.”

Miguel knows what you like-- and you like him desperate. His voice so low and rich that you gush around his swollen length, falling apart below him. He catches your body from dropping in an instant, his thighs shaking as he works you through the fibers of gentle pleasure. Hot pressure builds low in his stomach. 

“Qué bella eres. I’m going to finish, fill you and knock you up,” he whispers, drawing himself free and admiring the hazy space of pleasure and reality. Miguel turns you back to face him. You think you may complain-- you didn’t cum, or something of the sort. He shifts you to sit on the counter, spreading your vulva for inspection. Miguel spat on your cunt, rolling his fingers over the swollen folds to spread you apart. He slipped into the space between your shaking legs. You felt him thrust into your body hard and sharp. Your hands reached out, dragging Miguel’s shoulders forward, clinging onto his body. 

It comes all at once, Miguel’s stuttering thrust forward, a deep groan filling the kitchen, his hand clasped onto your thigh so hard you know he’ll bruise it. You catch his moan in a kiss he doesn’t reciprocate, buried so deep in your body that all he can think to do is to force you to take all of it. He shakes himself free of the web of pleasure that he’s enveloped in, looking at you past the thin rivulets of sweat you wiped away with your loving thumbs. 

“I think there are better positions for baby making,” you lean in, kissing him gently. He returns the kiss this time, eyes light of the strain and stress of the last few days.  “Like… not this.” 

Miguel pulls back, his soft cock slipping free from your warm entrance. Miguel watches as his seed dribbles from your hole, grunting in acknowledgement. He swipes your mixed fluids and rolls it between his fingers. 

“I’m open to suggestions.” 

He loves his wife. More than anything. What he doesn’t love is how Peter seems to know that you’re trying for a baby.

The thing about having a woman from his same cultura was this: you loved to talk with your best friend. Who, just so happened to be Peter. He doesn’t even have to say anything, just staring at him with a quirk on his lip and a terrible glitter in his eye after he’s resolved another meeting.

“Hey, Miguel.” 

“Don’t start.” 

He’s crowded with work at his desk-- he has no time for Mayday’s curious little eyes to glitter at him, Peter to be doing that shit he did when he wanted to be helpful. He offered his hands up, shrugging. 

“I’m just saying! I’m a man, you’re a man,” he mumbles, inching a little closer and closer. “If you want a baby--” 

“Let me guess. She told you.” 

“Mayday could use a spider buddy,” he held Mayday up, out of her carrier. Miguel glanced down at her wild hair, exhaling air out of his nose with a little huff. “Sooner than later?” 

“I’ve done it before,” Miguel throws back. “I know how to knock up my own wife, Peter. I don’t need help.”  

Peter is offering help as if Miguel hadn’t tasted the changes in your body when he ate you out. Never mind that he saw you nauseated this morning, too sick to handle a call that Miguel promptly answered. He knew his seed had stuck-- you wouldn’t feel so miserable otherwise. It doesn’t matter, he’d answer them all if it meant another little one in his arms at the end of it all. Just so long as you and the baby were safe. 

“Are you sure? I know--” 

“I’m damn sure.” Miguel turned around, his head in his hand. “I’ve had enough of you. Why don’t you do something useful? Bring her something for her morning sickness.” 

“Oh,” realization fell over Peter like a hammer, looking down to Mayday who looked right back up to her father. For all that Peter knew about his love life, he was shocked that you hadn’t told him how awful the smell of breakfast meat made you feel. His hand fell away, a film of pride slipping from his practiced features when Peter spoke. “But... She’s already pregnant?” 

He leers. Peter scuttles away. 

Privacy is important to Miguel. You knew the damn rule. No telling Peter about the inner workings of your bedroom. For that, you were going to fucking get it. You likely knew you were going to get it-- even if you were likely already pregnant.

He can’t wait.

[fandoms-x-reader]

Defense System

Requested By: @space-dragon-ace

Oneshot

Summary: MC loses everyone in a crowd. To find the others quickly, they yell, "MC is a good for nothing human!" and wait to see what happens. OM! Cast x Reader Word Count: 851

You were apprehensive about going to this event in the first place.

You had just gotten back to the Devildom after being away for some time and you were still readjusting to the way things were down there.

But, your friends had all insisted on taking you to an event that occurred in the streets of the Devildom.

There were going to be tons of food trucks, vendors, shows and so much more.

They promised you that you would have a ton of fun ~ so who were you to refuse to go?

It was only after you got to the event that you began to regret your decision to go.

You had all shown up in a large group, but it seemed that everyone had their own things that they wanted you to experience.

All fifteen of your friends almost immediately went their own way, wanting to get something from a specific vendor to bring back to you or wanting to get you tickets to a show.

They were in competition mode and whenever that happened, you knew that it was hard to get them back on track.

There were tons of people surrounding you; and, despite your best efforts, you couldn’t see a single one of your friends.

You were a bit frustrated at this point, mostly because you had only agreed to go for them.

And, now you were standing in the middle of a crowd of demons, by yourself, unsure where to go or what to do.

You wanted to call someone on your D.D.D. but with how busy it was around you, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to hear anyone even if they did pick up the phone.

You thought about using your pact to summon one of the brothers; but, you didn’t think you were at the stage where that was exactly necessary.

Especially since summoning could cause the brothers pain if it isn’t done properly and it had been a while since you tried to do it.

Unsure of what else to do, you decided to be a little mischievous and test your bond with the others a bit.

You took a deep breath before shouting into the crowd, “Y/N is a good-for-nothing human!”

You paused for a moment, looking around once again, but when you still couldn’t find anyone, you let out a small sigh.

I guess that didn’t work…

“Alright, who said that?!” Mammon shouted, suddenly barreling through people to reach you.

“Oh, there you are!” you said, relieved at the sight of a familiar face and completely forgetting about your little joke.

But, there were fifteen people suddenly rushing to your side who did not forget about what was said.

They each came to you, one by one, hot and heavy and ready to throw punches.

You listened as they each began to throw insults toward this imaginary person as they searched the crowd for who could possibly be the culprit.

You tried to interject a few times, wanting to tell them the truth, but every time you opened your mouth, you were interrupted by another angry person.

“Y/N, did you see who said those words about you so we could find them?” Diavolo asked you, concern in his eyes as everyone turned their attention to you.

You were holding back a laugh as your cheeks dusted pink from all of the attention.

“Sure ~ it was me,” you admitted and their faces turned from ones of anger to confusion.

“Why would you say that stuff about yourself?” Beel asked as innocently as ever.

“Geez, Levi, you’re rubbin’ off on ‘em,” Mammon pouted, causing Levi to look extremely guilty.

“Relax, everyone,” you replied, stifling another laugh.

“I lost you in the crowd and I thought it would catch your attention enough that you would come find me. Looks like I was right,” you explained.

“Well that was risky,” Belphie stated. “Satan nearly lost his mind,” Solomon agreed quietly.

You couldn’t help but notice how adorable they all looked, pouting at the prank you managed to pull off. 

“I’m sorry, really. But, I thought the purpose of bringing me to this event was so that I could experience everything with all of you. Not for me to stand alone in the crowd,” you added.

You could feel the tension in the air shift as they realized that they had left you alone and understood where you were coming from.

They completely abandoned you in the middle of this large event. No wonder you pulled that stunt.

They promised not to leave you alone again and they each took you to their favorite parts of the event, making sure that at least one person was with you at all times.

They made you promise that you would never try something like that again.

You had fifteen people who were ready to fight for you at the drop of a dime, and saying something like that, even if you were joking, would always set them off.

Because they cared about you far too much to let something like that slide.

[vigil-antes]

Do you like have any good comics recommendations or anything to do with the bat fam, I don't have many DC friends so idk where to start

hiii omg ive been WAITING for this. you didnt give me any kind of parameters for what kind of fics you want so im going to list some of those i like most. its going to be a long one so buckle up:

My DC Fic Best Pics:

Short & Sweet (Oneshots/Less than 10k words)

Send to All: Crack, the bats have a sex pollen release form

glucose guardian: Funny, Tim being the caped community's accidental sugar daddy

A Brief Interview: Sweet, Damian & Tim Ageswap

curiosity and the cat: Cute, Timbern Catlad AU

Dead Meme: Crack, Jason centric, Jason keeps referencing dead memes

Have I Told You About Minnie?: Sweet, Bruce&Steph

Multi Media Marketing Mistakes: Crack, Social Media AU

an inappropriate explosion: Funny, Superman calls Batman to reel in his unruly son (Red Hood)

though your eyes will need some time to adjust: so sweet GAH, Bruce&Steph

Girl what were YOU doing at the devil's sacrament?: Funny, Timbern after the disaster with the chaos cult

Tim Drake: Bisexual Awakener Extraordinaire: Funny, YJ experiencing the mandated Robin-Induced sexuality crisis

Brotherhood: Tim&Damian, Damian Time travels right into Jason's attack on Titans Tower

Priceless: Crack, Nightwing&The Bats messing with Bane

User SuperRob: TImBerKon. Need I say more?

The Mystery of the Superboy Shirts: TimKon, Tim keeps stealing Kon's SB Shirts

Thicker Than Water: Funny, Batbros slice of life-ish

Big Bird, Commence Attack!: Crack, Jason's revenge plan involves dressing up as Big Bird

World’s Saddest Breakfast Club: Sweet, Batkids Bonding

red chrome: Funny, Tim's health is concerning enough to stop Jason from attacking him in Titans Tower

Hot Dog, French Fries: Tim&Damian, Damian gets dosed with truth serum

#SoftRobin: Funny. Damian-centric Social Media AU

Hurry Up Don't Take So Long: Sweet, DamiJon through the years

Paris vs Gotham: Crack, Social Media AU Ladybug crossover (no ships)

Can I tempt you?: TimKon, Light angst, Sweet

Bedtime Stories (15-50k Words)

Baby Birds and Bat Caves: SO funny, genuinely one of the best fics ive read, Tim-Centric, Meta(?)/Cryptid Tim, inspired by Welcome to Nightvale

Gotham Knockoff: Tim-Centric, Alley Kid Tim pretends to be the Drakes' kid to get closer to the Bats

In This or Any Other Universe: Nightwing ends up in the The Batman (2022) Universe

Dangerous and Noble Things: Kid Tim gets kidnapped by the League of Shadows. No one realizes until, four years later, the Bats notices something wrong

In this Town We Call Home: Kid Tim attracts Batman's attention to get adopted

With Violet Light: Jason finds a ring of power and becomes a Star Sapphire

Little Birds’ Wings: Jason&Other Batkids, Jason comes back from the League to a drastically different Gotham

the pact of our youth: Reverse Robins Au, TimBerKon after Tim dies (and comes back different)

Pretty Boys and Identity Problems: Sweet, TimKon, To get away from his crush on Robin, Superboy gets entangled with Gotham pretty boy Tim Drake

let's get mischievous: TimBern, during the chaos cult ritual, Bernard gets possessed by Dyonisus

It Wouldn't Be Make Believe (If You Believed In Me): DamiJon fake dating AU where they don't know each other and meet while Robin is investigating a case in Metropolis (they're uni aged btw)

I’m Pretty Sure Tim Steals Clothes: An Elaboration In The Form Of A Long Fic: Cute, TimKon, Tim keeps stealing Kon's SB shirts

Into the Deep Dark Night: Tim-centric, Tim&Jason, Tim dies as a kid and loses a bit of his humanity

Alcatraz, But On Hardmode: Sweet, Tim-Centric, A YJ mission goes wrong and Tim has to rely on Jason to get him and his team out.

His Head is Bloody, but Unbowed: Jason-centric AU where he never stole the batmobile tires, but ends up meeting the Bats anyways after he saves Robin

A Good Place: Very soft, Damian&Bruce, Damian time travels to Batman's first year of activity.

Fairy Godbrother: Sweet, The batboys time travel to each others' pasts and help their brothers when they were younger

best laid plans: Tim&Jason, Tim finds Jason after he crawls out of his grave, bt they get goth taken by the league

Mystery Man: Cute, BirdFlash, The bats aren't known to the JL, Different first meeting

One Eternal Round: Super original, Bruce&Robins, My Hero Academia crossover where Aizawa, Midoriya, Kirishima, Todoroki and Bakugo remember their past lives as Gotham vigilantes

A Meditation on Railroading: Tim-Centric, Tim's dad leaves him stranded away from Gotham with no way back. Jason finds him and brings him home

the ship of theseus: Jason-Centric, Percy Jackson crossover, Jason and Percy are secretly twins

Why They Shouldn't Have Social Media: Crack, Social media AU

Cracked Foundation:Soft, Jason&Damian, They get stuck under a collapsed building together

Monolith: Bruce&The Batfamily, The birds aren't known to the JL, The JL meeting each member of the Batfam for the first time

Loading and Aspect Ratio: SO GOOOOOOD, Batfamily, The bats use wing prothesis but everyone think they're metas

Three’s a Crowd (But I’m Here if You Are): Cute, Funny, TimBerKon

A Softer Gotham: Steph&Bruce, Steph-Centric, Steph time travels to a time before Batman, becoming Gotham's first vigilante

greatest of ease: Dick-Centric, POV Outsider, Dick Grayson as seen in the eyes of the people surrounding him

Yesterday's Voices: Bruce&Batkids, Bruce's memory of the past five years gets erased leaving behind a softer man, one who doesn't remember Jason's death

show me yesterday, for i can’t find today: Jason-Centric, Jason&The Batfam, Robin!Jason and Red Hood switch places

Eat Your Heart Out, Social Life (50k+ words)

Vultures, Squirrels, and Other Flying Menaces: So good, AU where instead of becoming Robin, Tim hires Deathstroke to kill Joker, leading to the assassin adopting him and the other Batkids.

I’m alone here, I think: TimKon, Witch Tim, Tim is erased from everyone's memories and leaves Gotham. Kon finds him anyways.

You, Me, and the Humanity in Between: Soft and sweet, Bruce&His kids, Non-Human Batkids

cards on the table: Tim-Centric, Tim&Batfam, Tim's parents fake their death and leave Tim behind. He uses his stalking skills to become a fortuneteller scammer. Against his will, he ends up befriending the Waynes

Roasted: Funny, Cute, Dick-Centric, Talon AU, Dick&Batfam, Recovered Talon Dick opens a coffee shop that ends up becoming Rogue-Vigilante neutral grounds

Code Bat: Batfam, The bats aren't known, they have an emergency code to only be used in emergency case when revealing affiliation is inevitable (idk how to explain but its good trust me)

Minimum Height Requirement: SOFT, Bruce&His kids, Batfam, Batman doesn't let his kids become vigilantes before they turn eighteen

Running Headlong into My Arms: Soft, No Capes AU, even without Batman, Bruce finds his family

Liminal Space: Tim-Centric, Tim&Bruce, Tim&Batfam, Tim ends up in a softer and kinder version of his world

Robins and Other Flightless Birds: Bruce-Centric, Bruce&His kids, A Batman without kids is visited by another version of himself. He finds tha he, too, wants kids.

Laughter Lines: JayRoy, Soft, Jason helps raise Lian, before and after his death

Stars of the Forgotten: Bruce-Centric, Meta!Batkids, Bruce&His kids, on the search for a missing Barbara Gordon, Batman stumbles upon five metahuman kids in need of a home

Latchkey: Sweet, Tim-Centric, Robin!Jason, BatWatch!Tim, The Waynes get concerned with their lonely neighbor, Tim Drake

Ain't No Compass, Ain't No Map: Funny, Tim&Jason, Borderline abandoned Tim Drake gets taken in by Crime Lord Red Hood. CPS tries investigating, with little results

And that's it for today. If you're still here, thank you so much and seriously, some of these are so good, so read them, trust me!

Sorry i took so long to get back to you, i had to organize the mess in my AO3 bookmarks and compiling this took me ages.

Let me know what you all think, and if you ever want more!!!! (Yes i have more. It's a problem)

[that-student-that-has-homework]

🍉Fics for Gaza 🍉 UPDATED

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🍉Current WIPs🍉

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Genshin Impact

Rationality of Emotion Chapter 3 (Al-Haitham x Reader)

Word Count Stats: Current: ~ 2600 Estimated Final: ~5000-7000 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 2400 - 4000 words

You WILL Have my Herbs Chapter 7 (Diluc x Reader)

Word Count Stats: Current: 5200 Estimated Final: ~7000 - 8000 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 1800 - 2300 words

Jujutsu Kaisen

How to Write a Gojo x Reader Part 2

Part 2 to this Summary: Some more insights as to your friendship with Gojo and his adopted children. Gojo also has to deal with the fact that you won't be single forever and he has some things to say before he has to deal with Shibuya. Word Count Stats: Current: 216 word Outline Estimated Final: ~2000 - 4000 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 2000 - 3500 words

One Piece

🍉PORTGAS D. ACE🍉

Louder than Words Part 2

Part 2 to this Summary: More fluff with a touch of therapy for Ace Word Count Stats: Current: 3200 words Estimated Final: ~5000 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 1800 words

That Went a Little Too Well  

Summary: You’re being bullied by the local mean girls for thinking Fire Fist was better looking than Cavendish. He’s flattered. Oh yeah, turns out he was actually on the island. Word Count Stats: Current: ~ 300 Estimated Final: ~ 2500 - 4500 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 2200 - 3700 words

🍉TRAFALGAR LAW 🍉

Therapeutic

Oneshot + Could be Platonic Summary: The Strawhats rescue a spa worker from slave traffickers. She gives the crew and their guest spa treatments. Needless to say the ever so tense, ever so stressed Captain of the Heart Pirates needs a decent amount of work. Word Count Stats: Current: ~ 740 Estimated Final: ~ 2500 - 4500 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 1760 - 3260 words

🍉RORONOA ZORO🍉

Admiration

Summary: You let slip how you admired Zoro’s commitment to his goals. Now he’s teaching you how to commit to yours. Notes: Fluffy. 1-2 chapters. Unsure if platonic or romantic. Word Count Stats: Current: ~ 260 Estimated Final: ~ 2500 - 4500 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 2240 - 3740 words

Haikyuu

I’ll Marry Ya/Marriage Pact Part 2 (Miya Osamu X Reader)

Part 2 to this Word Count Stats: Current: ~ 1560 Estimated Final: ~ 2500 - 4500 words +/- 500 words To Sponsor: 940 - 2440 words

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NSFW / smut

poly relationships

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yandere / stalker

underage

incest

male reader inserts

Things I generally write for:

fem reader inserts

fluffy scenarios

emotional vulnerability

humor

platonic relationships in general

Fandoms:

JJK

AoT

Haikyuu

One Piece

Ace of the Diamond

Genshin Impact

Fire Emblem Three Houses

[three-realms-archive]

Was Never Your First, After All

Genre: Angst, Oneshot Fic

Characters: Mammon, MC, other Obey Me! Brothers mentioned briefly.

If there was something Mammon prided himself on being, and constantly strove to be, it was your first man. Only he could be your first in anything and everything.

It was all he had; especially with Satan and Lucifer’s knowledge on everything, Asmo and Levi’s interest in human world media and trends, and Beel and Belphie’s little-brother cuteness. It was a dog-eat-dog world when it came to your attention; but there was one thing Mammon would always have over his brothers, and he treasured it dearly.

The Avatar of Greed was your first man. Your first pact. Your first friendly demon, who had been your knight in 24-karat gold armour from the start. And, true to that that title (and to his general greatness), Mammon had strove to be your first in all other aspects, too. He was there at your first movie night in the Devildom - the TSL marathon with Beel. He had gone with you to a café near RAD for your very first Devildom coffee. Granted, you had hated it so much and had scrunched your face up so tight he had almost tried to bring you to the emergency room in fear that you had stopped breathing… But! Still your first coffee.

He had been your first friend in the Devildom, too. You had told him such in a birthday card, even referring to him as your ‘first man’. And, though it was probably a joking reference to what he always said… it hadn’t stopped Hell’s second-born Lord from cutting out the snippets of that handwritten birthday card which had made his face go red, gluing them onto a smaller piece of card, and keeping it in his wallet. Secretly. So it was always with him; from the moment he woke up, to the moment he checked the wallet with a goofy grin before bed.

So, armed with solid, MC-approved evidence, Mammon went about his days secure in the fact that he would always be your first in everything.

… Until now.

Stupid human. Not you, of course, but a different human who had broken into Serenity Manor, stolen all your coffee, and was now holding you hostage.

That was: your childhood friend, who you had invited over for a movie night at Serenity Manor, currently drinking coffee you had offered him.

School break meant trips to the human world; naturally, with the Avatars of Sin right beside you. However, whilst out on errands, you had spotted a childhood friend of yours whilst shopping at the grocery store. Within just a few minutes, you were chatting with him as if no time had passed at all; and you had taken the opportunity to invite him over to rewatch an old movie, since he had expressed that he was only in the area for a few days more.

Mammon had really, really tried to listen to Lucifer and Beelzebub when they had attempted to calm down their family in the kitchen - just one room over from the living room, where you and your friend were engrossed in the movie. Asmo and Levi had pouted and whined sorrowfully, whilst Satan and Belphie had jealous, irritated scowls. Unusually, Mammon hadn’t said much. It made sense in his head. He and his brothers were used to being the closest to you in your life. It’s definitely what you were to them. You were meant to be their closest friend. You were meant to be their family.

You were meant to be… his first special person.

But it made sense, Mammon thought, that you had a life before them, with other humans - that was just common sense, and he had plenty of that.

So here Mammon was now, in the opposite corner of the living room to you and your friend, trying to will himself to listen to his mind instead of his heart. He had wanted to be better than his brothers, who were stropping and sulking around the house. He had thought maybe he’d look more big-brotherly. That he’d get to look cooler, in front of you.

… That was an hour ago. Since then, you hadn’t even noticed that he had entered the room.

“More coffee?” Your friend piped up, grabbing the jug of iced coffee set on a small table beside you. Jealousy gripped Mammon’s heart like a vice at the sight before him: you and your friend huddled too close under a blanket, the TV screen illuminating your smiling, happy faces. Mammon scoffed internally at your friend’s suggestion, though. You never had coffee in the Devildom. You hated coffee.

Although, this time, you nodded eagerly instead; raising your glass to your friend and letting him fill it to the brim before chugging half of it down in one, satisfying gulp.

“Thanks, man. I absolutely love this coffee.” You said, grinning. Mammon’s eyes widened in shock. “Do you remember when you made me my first coffee at your ma’s? It was so, so good…”

Mammon felt his heart drop, confusion and self-berating flooding his mind and screaming in his thoughts. One word repeated itself, over and over:

First.

First.

First.

Your friend.

Your first.

Mammon barely registered your friend - your stupid, dumb, charming friend - chuckle amicably your reminiscing. “Yeah, those were the days, huh? I think we probably watched this movie for the first time the day after, right? Or was it the week after…?”

You laugh, touching your friend’s shoulder in a way which made Mammon’s irritation flare up wildly. Greed pumped through his veins, surging - accompanied by a primal, raw feeling of competitiveness. “I don’t know! We did a lot of stupid stuff for the first time - we were just kids.”

Amused, your friend raised an eyebrow. “You make us sound like troublemakers, man. We weren’t that dumb - and we turned out pretty okay, right?”

“Sure.” You joke. “It’s alright to admit that we were a bit wild, though. I guess you can’t help being reckless when you make your first friend.”

Your friend watches you laugh, with a fond smile that grips Mammon’s heart like a vice and twists it violently.

He thinks he sees the colour red flush across your friend’s cheek.

Mammon decides to leave, heading to his room; his chest constricting and his stomach feeling like it was churning.

He all but sprints up the stairs, slamming the door behind him and leaning against it. Nervousness and nauseousness flooded his body. Something wet was pooling in the corners of his eyes but he clamped his eyelids shut, rubbing at them furiously. Yet, even in the darkness of nothingness, Mammon couldn’t escape the images of you and your friend; drinking coffee at cafés together; cuddling under blankets, watching movies together; holding hands together; getting closer; faces closer; lips touching -

A few minutes passed. The rise and fall of his chest began to slow as he waited. And, though it took some time, eyes eventually became dry again.

If there was something Mammon prided himself on, and constantly strove to be, it was your first man. But, as it turns out, he couldn’t even be that.

If Mammon wasn’t your first in anything… then what was he to you?

Your first friend in the Devildom? What did that matter? You were probably freaked out of your mind seeing non-humans for the first time, probably missing the humans that looked like your childhood friend. Probably missing your childhood friend.

Your first pact? Mammon had to be tricked into his pact, and you needed the pact for both Belphie and your own safety. Being your first friend meant both your childhood friend and you had met and mutually agreed to grow closer to each other; to learn more about one another; to be there for each other. It might as well have been a proper pact.

And what was left?

Your first man?

How could Mammon be your first man, when someone else had already taken all your firsts?

Mammon sighed, forcing himself to puff out his chest and stride over to his closet. Suddenly, he felt like going out shopping. Somewhere expensive, with trendy clothes to cover up his emerging insecurities, and coffee shops to drown all the bitter thoughts stirring in his mind. Absentmindedly, his hand reached into his pocket to fetch his wallet, so he could check how much cash he had for his impromptu retail therapy session. It would all be fine. He’d go out, glow up, remind himself of how great he was, and forget why you would would ever even compare that lowly human to a literal Lord of Hell, like himself. A demon with money, charm and devilishly-handsome looks. That would be enough, he willed himself to think. It had to be enough.

Opening his wallet was a mistake.

The card - the one with snippets of his birthday card from you - fluttered out of his wallet, landing gently on the floor. His eyes briefly caught the first sentence.

You had said he was your first friend…

… in the Devildom.

He didn’t read the second part of that sentence, however. He knew what came next, and it wasn’t like it was important. First friend, that’s what was important. The rest hadn’t affected him at all.

It hadn’t affected him, which is definitely why he slammed his wallet shut and left it behind on his desk, taking out his credit card and ID. They were the only things he’d need, after all. He would open the door, leave his room and get out of the house for a deserved shopping spree. Unaffected.

Mammon didn’t need to be your first.

… And that’s exactly what he told himself over and over, as he broke down into tears; not having been able to bring himself to even turn the handle of his bedroom door.

Instead he sunk to the floor, curled up into a ball, and sobbed uncontrollably into the screaming silence of his bedroom.

(mammon next on my angst list, which is still the most requested genre after a week of polling! My second ever post had him breaking a vase in a hotel and now we have this lol)

(the first man thing is something mammon uses as a bit of a crutch in both canon and fanfiction. it’s a romantic line, its an excuse, its an identity, its all of that. i think its a nice, telling part of mammon’s character, and i tried expanding on it with other firsts. however, what if you took that away from him? and u get the idea for this fic. hope y’all enjoyed!)

(I’m also going to start putting genre and character stuff at the start, so people can easily know what they’re getting into. let me know if i should add anything to it)

[mirisss]

One Pact Masterlist

Yoon Jongwoo

My Heart

Utterly in Love with you

Friends Don't

Love & Trust

All is Fair in Love & War

Jay Chang

Oh Seongmin

Yeom Taegyun / TAG

Lee Yedam

OT5

Reaction to their gf being on a survival show

Confessing to their crush

To Follow the Heart - Jongwoo x reader x Jay

[loserlvrss]

꒰ (𝐔𝐍)𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 ꒱ 오성민

summary : your period symptoms are the worst, but your boyfriend is the best

genre : fluff, seongmin x afab!reader, drabble, established relationship tws : pet names, skinship, detailed period symptoms author notes : once again, if you see my man at pride DO NOT inbox me i know word count : 1k

“i’m here!” you heard being called out from where your front door met the living room area.

it was a habit that you had whenever you went over to the dorms, and now your boyfriend (as well as the others) had picked it up.

you wanted to greet him at the door, but today was the worst of your usually bad cycle, and you felt absolutely debilitated. your cramps were beyond belief, you didn’t even get any sort of comfort from laying on your shower floor like you usually could. you felt too hot, yet had the cold sweats and you mind just wouldn’t stay quiet long enough to let you fall asleep, even though you felt so lethargic.

you told seongmin, when he texted you earlier, that he shouldn’t come over because you wouldn’t be very much fun—and honestly you thought it was a little belittling to literally be fighting for your life. you also were a little scared of your visuals; you were wearing sweats, probably from two days ago when your period had started, hair messy because even though you technically took a shower, you didn’t get up off the floor long enough to wash up.

and to top it all off, your head was starting to pound.

all the lights in your apartment were off, and it honestly was confusing your boyfriend. he knew you were home, but maybe you were asleep—he didn’t know. you listened to the footsteps against silent air approaching your bedroom.

you were dreading the moment he’d open the door and let the light peak through. and as he did, it creaked against its hinges, the noise echoing painfully against your skull.

“y/n?” he asked softly. and thankfully he thought you were asleep otherwise he might’ve run and jumped onto your bed like he has in the past. “are you awake?”

you groaned, seongmin’s eyebrows creasing together. you pulled the blanket over your head, careful not to move too much (because it might set off your nausea and cramps).

you could hear the door shut, thankful that maybe he got the hint. you hugged the heating pad to your stomach, trying to conserve the heat that seemed to never be enough in these situations.

“y/n, are you tired? sick? what’s wrong? is that why you asked me not to co—“

the blanket muffled your voice, however he heard it interjecting between his sentence.

“min, please be quiet. my head—everything—hurts right now. i’m on my period.”

quietly, more like to himself he let out an “oh.” before you felt the covers being pulled off your head, however his hand was almost flush over your eyes blocking the light.

“i’m sorry. do you want me to leave? just nod—wait no that might hurt your head. tap me once for yes, twice for no.”

you wanted to laugh, but knew it would hurt too much to. so, the hands that were wrapped around your midsection broke apart and you tapped seongmin’s leg once… then twice.

“can you get me some medicine?”

faster than the speed of light he was off, and this time you couldn’t hold back the small chuckle in the back of your throat—that eventually morphed into a pained groan. he was being careful to be quiet, but nonetheless he was on a mission, and the faster he could get you medicine, the faster you could feel better. he didn’t like you when you were hurting.

when he came back, he opened the door just enough for his body to fit through, shutting it gently and shuffling over to you. seongmin held out a bottle of water for you, and an open palm that had bottles of medicine pooled in it.

“baby, why’d you grab so many?”

he set them down on the nightstand, pulling a couple others from his hoodie pocket. you giggled again, and the sound sent some sort of relief through the man.

“i didn’t know which one you wanted.” he admitted, helping you into a seated position. he admired you as you ran a hand through your tangled hair, pulling at the hoodie (of his) that you’d thrown on carelessly.

he loved you, whatever that entailed, and it was as simple as that.

“if you let me finish before running off—“

“shh!” he said, taking your hand and putting the bottle in it. “your head hurts.”

he was right, and you’d almost forgotten about it, finding the bottle of ibuprofen and taking a couple to ease the pain.

“do you need anything else?” he asked, checking the setting on your heating pad, and helping you lay back down. he took said heating pad and placed it under your sweatshirt, knowing you’d get a better feel of it.

you shook your head no as a reply, feeling the bed dip as he climbed into it with you. “let’s take a nap… then you’ll feel better?” he questioned, while simultaneously suggesting.

you hoped he was right.

he hugged you, slipping a arm under the arch of your back and laying almost in a crooked angle so that his head could rest against your upper stomach. his other arm was putting enough pressure against your uterus that it was relieving—you didn’t know such a thing would work for your cramps—but it probably had to do with that fact that everything combined was now basically heat-compression therapy.

you weaved your fingers through his hair, distracting yourself from the pain within your body. seongmin was calmness; he was the clouds on an overly hot day. the A on a test you were stressing about. the clarity through the fog. the rain to humidity. he cleared you of worry, and always made sure you were comfortable.

he’d hold you hand under the table. hug you from behind with everyone watching. he’d talk to you for hours just to distract from whatever exam had you stressed. he knew where every one of your doors were, and the keys to unlock them. you’d never felt safer being vulnerable.

and eventually, because of everything, the atmosphere had become relaxing enough to help you fall asleep.

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

— perm tag list .ᐟ send an ask to be added c:

[queers-gambit]

"Plan To Make A Gift of It To My Lover"

prompt: ten years ago, Lucerys claimed Aemond's eye, and now, a Lannister will claim her debt.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!wife!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.5k+

note: i use 'lover' because it sounds like the original line, 'mother'. also, what the fuck is this, Cherry?

warnings: very much not for minors! deranged characters? blood lust? depiction of grotesque, unhinged behavior. there's cursing, depiction of canon-typical violence and injury, show timeline and spoilers that lead into some VAGUE book references that might produce a slight AU timeline...? character death, obviously Team Green, so, there's some Team Black slander. half edited!

⚠️ season one, episode ten AND book spoilers

PLEASE BE AWARE I AM GOING TO MERGE THIS ONESHOT INTO A SMALL SERIES BUT WILL STILL LEAVE THIS UP

I AM CHANGING LANNISTER READER INTO A VELARYON READER

Rain water beaded against his leather trench overcoat, rolling off him like pellets to leave a scattered trail on the material. His boots splashed in the muddy terrain, dark castle looming tall in the stormy sky, and Mother Nature voiced her displeasure in the form of booming claps of thunder throughout the raging storm.

Long, straight hair turned unruly and crinkled in the torrential downpour; sticking to clothes and clinging to skin. His sword was latched to his weapons belt, bobbing on his hip with every stride he took to approach the Keep of The Stormlands, Storm's End.

"Identify yourself!" A guard shouted through the haze of rain.

You smirked, "Prince Aemond Targaryen, second son of King Viserys Targaryen, the Peaceful, and rider of Vhagar along with his wife, Lady Lannister."

The guards exchanged looks, then the other asked, "What business do you have here?"

"Official business that surely goes beyond your responsibility," you snapped. "We require an audience with your liege lord. Is Lord Borros in? Willing to receive? You'd do well to answer quickly, Vhagar isn't known for her patience - nor is my husband and I."

There was no dispute in leading you into the castle's throne room, members of court lingering in curiosity when they saw the One Eyed Dragon Prince and his Lady Lioness prowl through Storm's End. Lightning struck to flash through the cracks of the eery castle, creating an uneasy atmosphere and making Storm's End feel spookier then it probably was. Aemond smirked when you looked around the semi-empty throne room, the guards instructing you to stay put as their lord was fetched; you looking positively bored.

"You seem to have a natural liking towards our new status, do you not, my lioness?" He mused softly. "The way you commanded the guards to retrieve their Lord for us was very telling of your ease."

"Perhaps. Though I do not like the reason we are here, flexing our status in the first place," you told him with a sharp look. "Surely, there's other alliances to be made, Aemond. Why marry you off to some plain-faced Baratheon bitch?"

"Because war's come for us and we must all sacrifice for the cause," he sighed, staring at you without so much as twitching; letting you approach until standing chest-to-chest. "We require this pact, my love, because we must strengthen Aegon's claim. To use Daeron and I as marriage pawns feels logical given our proximity to the King."

You snarled, "You told me yourself that Aegon did not deserve to be King. Now, we must sacrifice our marriage vows for his claim?"

"I know it is not ideal," he relented, "but it's our current reality."

"Only for now, I sense the tides will turn several times before this is fucking over."

"Hmm."

When Lord Borros finally arrived, he appeared disgruntled by the abrupt arrival of you and your husband, Prince Aemond. He was grouchy, but still welcoming enough; slumped in his chair, eyeing you both, mentioning, "This must be of grave importance to arrive in such a manner, with no warning."

"It is," Aemond answered smoothly, "because war has come to shadow Westeros once more, my Lord."

"Is that so?"

"King Viserys is dead," he informed clearly, "and as such, the natural succession would've passed to the King's named heir, Princess Rhaenyra, but King VIserys had a change of heart. Instead of his daughter, the King wanted his first born son, Aegon II, to ascend the Iron Throne after him."

"And that's to do with me...?"

"The Princess will demand your loyalty, Lord Borros," you stepped in, "to uphold a stale oath your father made decades ago. Come the day, you will be forced to pick sides; yet we simply would like to offer you terms of consideration before hearing Rhaenyra's."

"If the Princess is willing to offer terms, that is," Aemond punctuated.

Borros sat still, then leaned in slightly, "And what are these terms you wish to offer, girl?"

"My Lady-wife has earned the title Princess, my Lord," Aemond corrected sharply, "and will be addressed as such."

Borros nodded stiffly, "Of course, my apologies."

"No matter," you assured. "Tell me, Lord Borros, do you not have unwed daughters?"

"I do, a gaggle of them."

You smirked, "My husband, though not King, is of ancient and rich Valyrian blood. He is happy to uphold customs of his ancestors by taking another wife - so, we offer a marriage pact in exchange for your swords and banners."

"And what of you?"

"What of me?"

"You would just let your husband wed another woman?"

"Who am I to question the will of the Gods?" You mused, figuring you wouldn't tell him how Aemond had already promised never to bed the Baratheon girl. "Should they smile upon this union, so would I. My father, may he rest in peace, before his passing ensured to instill in me a sense of duty and honor, Lord Borros, and with this civil war, we might all do our part to see the end of it."

He hummed, eyeing you both. "All right," Borros half-agreed, "but which of my daughters, hmm? I've four of them - uh," he snapped, "what is this? Someone fetch the girls! Let the Prince see - he may choose to wed whichever he deems acceptable."

"Do we have a deal, Lord Borros?" You asked.

He nodded, "Pending the Princess' terms - my father did swear fealty to Princess Rhaenyra, I would do well to honor that by at least hearing her."

"A noble answer," you accepted.

It wasn't a long wait for his four daughters to arrive, an even shorter wait for Aemond to make a decision. There was Cassandra, Maris, Ellyn, and Flora Baratheon - all ripe for the picking. "Well?" Aemond asked you.

You shrugged, "This is your choice, you're the one who has to bed her." His lips twitched in amusement, eyeing the women stood in a straight line. "Fuck's sake - why not kiss them all and chose that way? Leaves less room for surprise later. Plus what're the odds Rhaenyra's sent her envoy? We should solidify Baratheon's loyalty now."

Aemond chuckled, looking each woman over carefully as a guard entered the room. "My Lord," he called, earning the attention, "another dragon has been spotted and is approaching the Keep."

"What did I fucking say?" You smirked at Aemond.

"Receive whoever it is," Borros permitted. "And you? Have you come to a decision? My girl, Maris, there, would make a clever wife."

"I've one clever enough wife and would be overrun with another," Aemond answered wistfully. "The Lady Flora is acceptable."

"Very well," Borros nodded, "and the terms of dowry?"

You watched as Aemond pulled Flora from the line of sisters, standing to the side as he examined her. He told Lord Baratheon the number of Gold Dragons he thought his daughter was worth, the two haggling lightly over prices before Borros accepted that with the threat of war, his son might become preoccupied, so, the seat of Storm's End would be inherited by Aemond and Flora's children.

Thunder rumbled as a deal was struck.

Boots marched down the stone hall and all conversation ceased to await the newcomer with taunt curiosity. Aemond subtly turned to look at you, ignoring his pretty new intended, as a procession of guards marched into the gloomy room. You boldly stared at the arrival, feeling your heart stall in your chest when you saw it was him... That bastard... The Strong Bastard that mutilated both you and your husband a decade ago.

"Prince Lucerys Velaryon," it was announced, marching coming to an echoing halt. Aemond chose that moment to turn and present himself to the young prince who haunted your every living and dreaming nightmare. He looked startled to see you both there, the guard ending, "Son of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen."

Against the thundering storm, Lucerys spoke timidly - as if, any louder and his voice would squeak and crack. "Lord Borros... I brought you a message from my mother... The Queen."

"Yet earlier this day, I received an envoy from the King," Borros shot at the young prince. "Which is it? King or Queen? The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it." He laughed at his own joke, but when none others joined, he asked Lucerys stoically, "What's your mother's message?"

The Strong Bastard just held up a scroll like the spoilt brat he was, a guard taking it from his fingers to walk it to the Stag Lord since the Prince deemed himself too important to hand deliver the message. Lord Borros sighed when he took up the scroll, looking expectingly to his court, then snapping, "Where's the bloody Maester?"

Lord Borros Baratheon could not read, you see.

So, you all waited as the Maester was retrieved; Lucerys sparing spooked looks at you and Aemond - the latter of whom just smirked in amusement. Luke couldn't truly see the disfigurement he caused, but your scars almost glittered in the flashes of lightning to assure him they were right where he left them. You turned to your husband, whispering in his ear, "Remember all those times when you promised me his eye as a gift? When shall we be presented an opportunity such as now?"

He shushed you with a restrained smirk, wanting so bad to entertain your banter - and daydream about doing to Luke what he did to you two. You told Aemond you didn't need Luke to bear a scar like your own, and that's when he promised to give you the Prince's eye.

The Maester arrived when Luke felt uneasy enough to palm a fist around the hilt of his sword, elderly man hobbling up to Lord Borros, taking the scroll, then reading it.

The Maester bent to summarize the letter to his Lord. You smirked at Aemond when Borros snapped, "'Remind' me of my father's oath? King Aegon at least came with an offer: my swords and banners for a marriage pact! If I do as your mother bids," he leaned forward on his throne, looking to the side, asking, "which one of my daughters will you wed... Boy?"

"My Lord," Lucerys trembled, "I am not free to marry. I'm already betrothed."

"I did not realize betrothal was weighed heavier than marriage," Borros sneered, indicating to you and Aemond, "which means you come with empty hands. Go home, pup, and tell your mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes."

There was a beat as his words sunk in.

"I shall take your answer to the Queen, my Lord," Lucerys informed, sparing everyone one last look before turning on his heel to vacate.

Yet he couldn't just walk away so easily.

"Wait," Aemond called out loud before you could, the Prince halting, "my Lord Strong." You grinned when Luke turned fully and then stepped forward to the edge of his guarded protection, a look of disbelief adorning his features. "Did you really think that you could just fly about the Realm," he continued, taking a few slow, stalking steps forward with you on his flank and Floris stepping further away, "trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?"

"I will not fight you," Lucerys declared. "I came as a messenger, not a warrior."

You giggled to mock the boy's sword skill, wanting to hurt the boy's ego as much as possible. Your husband smirked at you before musing, "A fight would be little challenge." He paused to consider his options. "No," he told Lucerys, reaching for his eye patch and pulling the leather from his head. "I want you to put out your eye," He growled, staring at Luke, sapphire winking in the low torchlight; his arm coiling around your waist to keep you at his side. He explained, "As payment for mine. One will serve," and he flipped back his leather overcoat to reveal a dagger, yanking it free to toss across the distance at Lucerys. It clattered and skidded, the sound ominous between the claps and rolling booms of thunder. "I would not blind you," he told the boy. Then, as if concealing a smirk, he finished, "Plan To Make A Gift of It To My Lover."

The ground shook violently when Vhagar landed outside the Driftmark Dragon Pit. The air whooshed your hair back, little feet stumbling back a few paces into the rock wall, hair on the back of your neck standing on end when Aemond dismounted the beast. It wasn't as if you weren't proud or incredibly impressed by his ability to claim the oldest dragon in the known world, but you weren't a Targaryen and dragons made you uneasy.

You could understand animals had minds of their own, and while, yes, Targaryens were closer to Gods than Men because they fly on dragons, you knew they did not control the dragons. They merely domesticated the winged terrors, but you knew the animal could snap at any moment's notice. You didn't like being so close as to become an accidental casualty, so you waited in the mouth of the Pit to give plenty of room between you and Vhagar.

"Well? How was it?"

Aemond beamed at you, "Like nothing I've ever experienced before."

"She's much, much bigger up close," you eyed the dragon watching you both. She was too large in size for the Dragon Pit, but for you, it was a way back into the Driftmark Castle; so, Vhagar was left to her own devices as you and Aemond strode inside.

"You'll have to come flying with me."

"No, no, I like the ground very much. It's safer down here."

"You'll love flying, I can all but promise you."

"If the Gods wanted me in the air, they'd of made me a Targaryen," you teased, both entering the torch-lit passage. "Alas, I am not, so, I think it wise to keep my feet on the ground."

"I'll get you on dragonback with me one day," he smirked. "She's the oldest, you know, and the largest, too."

"I know," you beamed in amusement.

"And she's mine," he whispered, shaking his head and fighting off his grin. You looped your arm with his, giggling your praise over his display of bravery; entering the division foyer of the Pit only to spy Prince Daemon Targaryen's daughters, Baela and Rhaena, with Princess Rhaenyra's sons, Jacerys and Lucerys Velaryon.

"It's them!" One barked.

"It's us," Aemond sneered quickly, understanding confrontation when he felt it. You didn't like this... Something about this exchange felt very wrong; there was four of them, two of you, and you were not their blood relative - so, why be involved at all?

"Vhagar is my mother's dragon!" Rhaena seethed.

"Your mother's dead," Aemond reminded sharply.

You smirked, tacking on, "And Vhagar has a new rider now."

"She was mine to claim!"

"Then you should've claimed her!" You barked in annoyance. "You are not the only dragon-less Targaryen, but you're the one who expects to just be gifted one!"

Aemond sneered right after you, "Maybe your cousins can gift you a pig to ride. It would suit you."

This (rightfully) angered the girls. Rhaena charged and latched onto Aemond but was easily swatted to the ground. At that same moment, her twin, Baela, took the opportunity to jab her knuckle into your nose, sending you into the dirt. "Fuck's sake!" You snapped, Aemond clocking the injury and slamming his fist against Baela's cheek to send her into the dirt, too.

Aemond helped you to your feet as he snarled at the girls, "Come at us again and I'll feed you to my dragon!"

Jace charged, and from there, it was a blur of adrenaline. Before you understood, you were defending yourself from a hurricane of fists and feet; reaching up to grab hold of Rhaena's locs and yank as hard as you could. It gave you a small advantage to get up, see the three others beating on Aemond, and rushed for the fray.

The Prince saw you and pause his resistance to let you grab hold of Baela - also pulling her so hard, a loc or two might've been ripped from her scalp. Aemond kicked Jace, you sent the girls into the dirt, and Aemond managed to catch hold of Lucerys by the throat as he got to his feet. Aemond's hand found purchase on a large rock, standing above them all as you panted from his side; rock raised in threat.

"You will die screaming in flames, just as your father did!" Aemond declared, snarling, "Bastards."

Through his whimpering, Luke sobbed, "My father's still alive!"

For a moment, Aemond appeared disarmed, but then sneered, "He doesn't know, does he? Lord Strong?"

This upset Prince Jacerys enough that he brandished a concealed dagger from his sleeve; holding it at the ready, ignoring his cousin's pleas of his name. "Blade in play," you warned Aemond.

Luke was kicked away, Jace was dodged, disarmed, then shoved to the ground. You were all bruised, bloodied, beaten; thinking that despite twice the numbers, you and Aemond managed to hold your own pretty damn well. The Prince lifted the rock again, this time with his sights set on Jace, ignoring Luke scrambling in the dirt.

Pretty damn well until it was too late.

You screamed in absolute horror when a white hot pain flashed across your face when you meant to turn away from the fight. You went down, Aemond looked over in shock and confusion, and in that moment, Lucerys swung his brother's blade again. It cut through half of Aemond's face, the eye being severed in two; blood gushing between both your hands.

Of course, this was the time the White Cloaks arrived - but it was too late. The damage was done. You sobbed uselessly as the knights tried to help you off the ground, trembling violently as adrenaline wore off. You were instantly escorted to the castle's throne room where the Maester and other attendants met you.

Guards posted.

Blood soaked into cloth.

The Queen arrived with the Hand before anyone else - instantly demanding her son (and you) be attended to at once. She listened to the shaky account of events, but it was difficult to get an accurate picture as you and Aemond were both preoccupied with being medically attended to.

You held Aemond's hand as you were both cleaned up. There was nothing to save, Aemond's eye removed and your face being pinched and stitched. Nearly 200 years from now, one of your descendants will earn nearly the exact same scar during the Battle of the Blackwater; a mark that cut through the face from temple, over the nose, to opposite ear.

You listened to the spoiled brats spin their webs, opting to remain quiet in the presence of the King.

However, after Princess Rhaenyra finally showed up with Prince Daemon, after Lord Corlys Velaryon and Lady Rhaenys Targaryen arrived, attention shifted.

" - Didn't just mutilate our son, but the Lady Lannister as well!" Alicent raged.

King Viserys eyed you as if seeing you for the first time, slowly approaching. "My Lady," he spoke softly, "you have not yet said a word this evening."

"It is not my place, Your Grace."

"It is now," he permitted. "Speak, and tell me the truth of it. What happened tonight?"

You swallowed nervously, "The Prince Aemond claimed his dragon, Vhagar, Your Grace, and upon returning, the... Uh, well, the Princes Jacerys and Lucerys along with their cousins, Ladies Rhaena and Baela, were waiting for us."

"Waiting?" Viserys repeated.

"Yes, Your Grace, I believe they wanted to see who had claimed Vhagar," you offered.

"Who hit who first?"

With a sigh, you answered, "Lady Baela hit Prince Aemond first. A solid hook, for whatever it's worth."

Alicent now approached, squatting in front of you and asking, "How did you sustain such injury, Lady Lannister? Come... Speak the truth. Tell us the meaning of this."

"Prince Jacerys brought the blade, Your Grace," you mumbled, "but it was lost in the scuffle. It was Prince Lucerys who offered injury to both Prince Aemond and I."

You could've cried when Rhaenyra, as usual, managed to somehow spin your story into making her sons the victims. Despite being told the four ambushed you two, they weren't even reprimanded because their parents were all so angry that it truly distracted from the present situation at hand. In the end, Queen Alicent snapped and charged to attack, but the Princess Rhaenyra intercepted her before damage could be done.

The blade Alicent stole from her husband's belt was dropped - but not before the tip sliced into the flesh of the Princess' forearm. You were fuming, watching them all leave; you had been seriously maimed, and so far, you had been the one spoken to as if a criminal. Rhaenyra would need stitches, sure, and a broken nose was the worst of their injuries - but Aemond lost his eye, and you?

You felt as if you lost your life because who the hell would want you now? With this scar? This big, fat, noticeable scar that split your face? Sure, your Lannister name would get you places - but not everywhere. Considering your young age, this only left time for rumors to fester and for everyone to notice your injury; being no escape and no where to hide from ridicule.

For years, you would consider yourself damaged. For years, you would mourn yourself. For years, you would sharpen your mind, wit, and intelligence because if you couldn't bring standard "beauty" to the table, you wanted to be able to offer something redeeming.

For years, you would undergo emotional turmoil before your engagement to Aemond is announced; convincing yourself you did not deserve love because your anger made you likened to a shrew. You felt ugly on the outside, ugly on the inside; a product of your environment and experiences. When the promise of marrying your best mate was bestowed, the entire court was shocked by the 180 you both did; where once stony and stoic, both were now soft and kind - but only to one another.

To everyone else, you were both still stony and indifferent. But to each other? You and Aemond would move mountains.

Yet that night on Driftmark would haunt for you for the rest of your lives; no matter the promise of love, marriage, and a 'normal' life. Late nights would be held together, fantasizing about your revenge; considering the future in which you made Lucerys Strong pay for what he did to you.

"Plan To Make A Gift of It To My Lover."

"No," Lucerys barked, looking distraught by the sheer idea of what Aemond demanded. His answer made the amusement drain from Aemond's features, this was a man not often told no. His hand passed you his eye patch for safe keeping; the raging storm outside portraying the tension brewing in the throne room of Storm's End.

"Then you are craven as well as a traitor."

"Not here!" Borros understood fighting words when he heard them - not wanting the repercussions of a dead or injured Prince Lucerys, because, let's face it, Luke couldn't do damage to Aemond even if he tried.

Aemond literally sprang into action, releasing his grip on you, shouting as he strode forward. "Give me your eye," he stooped to snatch his dagger from the ground, "or I will take it, bastard!"

Lucerys brandished his sword for protection, but Borros launched out of his seat to intervene by shouting, "Not in my hall!" This made Aemond skid to a halt. "The boy came an an envoy. I'll not have bloodshed beneath my roof. Take Prince Lucerys back to his dragon... Now."

You smirked when Aemond just watched the boy flee the hall, hand flipping his dagger expertly before sheathing it. You met his gaze, holding prolonged eye contact to publicly show you were not afraid of him, his looks, his lack of eye, or adoration for him.

"Well, Lord Borros," you mused, turning to the Stag Lord, "looks as if you've chosen in this war."

He huffed, "We can discuss specifics later."

Aemond nodded, "We'll be off."

"Do not - "

"You said no blood shed under your roof," you reminded, "not above."

"The Prince is young and small - "

"We gave him a fair head start." Borros looked ready to rebuttal, but you snapped, "We're at war, my Lord. Either you let the dragons fight in the skies or it'll be your men fighting in the trenches. The choice is yours."

"See that? His woman bites harder than he," Maria scoffed to her sisters, only juuuuust loud enough for her voice to carry across the room. Then she snarled at your husband, "Tell me, Prince Aemond, was it just your eye Prince Lucerys took, or one of your balls, too? You threw a dagger at him and stopped when Daddy said stop," her eyes rolled, "those are not qualities of a man."

You were ready to attack. In fact, you started striding up to Maris when Aemond intercepted you swiftly with a suffocatingly strong grip. "We've more important matters," he reminded you, turning, and promising to send word to Lord Borros before disappearing out of the side door.

"How dare she," you seethed on your way to Vhagar. "That buck-tooth looking rodent dares insult you? Her own Prince? In front of others - oh, the nerve of that family!"

"Bigger picture at work here, love," Aemond mused as he fixed his patch back on, never one to address the things that were bothering him - like when someone hurt his feelings or bullied him over his missing eye.

But you were always ready to bite those that offered insult. You were a Lion in a golden cage, after all.

You grumbled the entire time, reaching Vhagar, launching as discreetly as she possibly could to scan the skies. It wasn't easy to find the Prince because his dragon blended into the storm so perfectly, but once the tiny beast was located, you were locked on. You rode behind Aemond in his saddle, both being harnessed to prevent any unseating; the combined weight never phasing his ol' girl. Vhagar understood they were in some kind of chase, and when she gave a grumble that rumbled over the thunder you flew through, Aemond gave her a command in High Valyrian to quiet herself.

You could see glimpses of Luke turning to search areas you had just vacated; loving this game of cat and mouse. You hoped the anticipation and anxiety of being watched was upsetting the Prince - just so he had a little bit of emotional trauma from this, you know? Just so he had a little taste of the emotional turmoil you had to suffer the past decade.

"Ready?" Aemond asked you.

You squeezed his waist before boldly reaching down to palm his cock through his breeches, hissing in his ear, "Do it, you owe me a gift."

Aemond grinned and directed Vhagar to circle around and fly forward until almost colliding with Lucerys - should he not've steered Arrax lower at the last moment. The close call was enough to make you both laugh, the sound traveling over the noisy nature. Aemond turned Vhagar again, trying to snatch at Arrax with her talons while your husband hurled insults and taunting phrases as his nephew.

With a small groan, you reached for a separate piece of the saddle to hold onto while Aemond drove Vhagar into a nosedive after the smaller dragon. When they came up to a cavern of sea rocks, Aemond was forced to pull Vhagar back before she could crash - but Arrax had no issue navigating into and through the canyon. You were forced to fly above it, searching for your prey once more.

Lucerys seemed to evade you for a time.

"What happens when we find him?"

"I will have the bastard's eye," he reminded you.

"Yes, but what if he resists?"

"Of course he will."

"So you mean to kill him? Is that the plan, Aemond?"

He did not answer you, looking over Vhagar's sides for his prey. He shouted in High Valyrian, "You owe a debt! Boy!"

Suddenly, from your left, Arrax descended upon Vhagar with a vicious spewing of fire that licked your flesh hatefully. Aemond flinched back into your chest, trying to shield yourselves from the heat of the flames, but it was too late. You cried out, whimpering with discomfort when the flames died; marring and mangling your skin. Prince Lucerys was heard scolding his dragon, and for a moment, you felt as if you could see the future because there was no way Vhagar was going to let that kind of disrespect occur and do nothing about it.

The ol' girl gave a rumble before bellowing after Arrax. She turned herself to where the other dragon had disappeared and started to push off as her owner begged and pleaded with her not to. "Serve me, Vhagar, no!" He commanded, desperate to keep his beast under control, but being evident these two wild animals were in an altercation all their own and meant to follow their instinct.

"We want his head still, Vhagar!" You laughed loudly, Aemond growling with a smirk.

"Do not encourage her!"

"Do not try to domesticate a 180-year-old dragon!" You gave a small whoop of excitement. "She's a Dragon of War, Aemond! Violence is what she knows!"

He grunted as he struggled with the reins. However, Vhagar ignored him and made her own turn, pumping her wings twice and then breaking into the morning sun above the storm. For a fleeting moment, it was incredibly gorgeous to be so high in the sky...

And then it was over before anyone could stop it.

Vhagar opened her mouth and gave one chomp around the body of boy and dragon. There was a shrill cry of fear before Vhagar's moan of content, then eery silence settled as half-consumed bits fell to the ground beneath.

"Well," you cleared your throat, staring at the bloody bits falling, "if it wasn't enough that Aegon took her crown, surely, the two of us taking her son will be the push Rhaenyra needs to meet us in conflict."

"No," he cleared his throat, "you were not here - "

"I was, I would not allow you to bear this burden on your own. To take the blame," you met his eye. "I encouraged this just as much, and Rhaenyra will know it was us - she'd never believe I was not involved."

"Can you not be logical right now?" He trembled, leaning his forehead to yours.

"Okay..." You whispered, "Well, could we go see if there's anything left?"

"That's morbid, my love."

"What? You're the one who promised me his eye. I know you didn't mean for this, but the truth is," you smirked, "you did. You knew what pursuing him would result in - your dragon doesn't understand your need for revenge, she understands eat or be eaten."

Aemond sighed, "Too soon for that phrase."

"Noted. Now, c'mon," you encouraged, giving his waist a squeeze. "I know you're curious to see what's left, too."

And he was, so Aemond directed Vhagar back down. It was difficult to predict where the body parts could've ended up, but seemingly, luck was on your side and you descended to the shore. There was a small scattering of remains, bits being washed up or away with every new lap of sea water.

You dismounted and started searching through the remnants, storm still outlandishly raging around you. "Love?" Aemond spoke from behind you, making you jump slightly. He smirked, "Got something for you, my Lioness."

"You do not..." He held up the messily decapitated head of Lucerys "Velaryon", your laugh surprising and genuine. "Oh, we're sooo going to Seven Hells," you sighed, shrugging, "but you know, it doesn't really get worse than what we've already done, so," you motioned for him to set the head down.

"Here," he agreed, using his dagger to harvest Lucerys' eyeballs from the skull you helped hold. When he was done, you chucked the head away before Aemond's bloody hands set both eyes in your cupped, outstretched palms; watching you weigh them.

"You know, Lannisters always pay their debts," you mused, smirk pulling at your lips, "but we also are always repaid our debts. How strange, to hold his eyes and think they were once functioning... In his head, of use, probably full of tears when Vhagar chased him in the sky."

"Hm," Aemond considered, then pointed to your hand. "It's with his eyes, I promise you, my Lioness, the fall of our enemies." He proclaimed, then musing, "Should we give Maris Baratheon one to prove ourselves?"

You smirked, "She said you must've lost your balls, right?"

"Almost positive Vhagar ate Lucerys' so we cannot present her with them."

"Damnit," you pouted. "All right, fine, sure, we might show the Baratheon's we mean war... But I'd like to keep them both, please."

"What are you going to do with them?"

"Put them in a jar and keep until I'm no longer angry about what he did to us..."

"So, his eyes are going on our mantle?"

"You bet your sweet balls," you grinned, twirling Lucerys Velaryon's Strong's organs in your hand like a pair of game dice.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

[bebe-writes-stuff]

Hidden Hearts Reunited

A Mikey x reader oneshot (part 1)

-- You were Manjiro's first and closest friend, before Baji, Sanzu, or Draken. You were there. Your mothers were friends, meaning you were destined to be friends either way. You spent every second together since birth, a result of both mothers planning the deliveries on the same day. They realized a distinct difference between you and Manjiro, like night and day; you and Manjiro are polar opposites. Unlike Manjiro, who was always crying and screaming, you were quiet with a cute smile on your little round face. Manjiro would constantly cling onto you, as toddlers, crying louder if you were ever separated. Both mothers gushed at his actions. He would share his toys only with you and sleep peacefully next to you. It was an unbreakable bond between the both of you, from birth --

You walked hand in hand as you made your way to the hospital to visit Manjiro's mothers, who had fallen ill.

"You know, we don't have to keep holding hands, we aren't toddlers anymore." You spoke with a hushed and gentle voice, barely audible only for Manjiro to hear, as you both crossed the street.

"No friggin' way, how else is everyone supposed to know you're mine." He scoffed as if you said something so ridiculous.

"...Manjiro, I'm not a thing to be claimed." You delivered with a straight face.

"I didn't say that, I mean you're my girl. No one else is supposed to hold your hand except for me." The little boy pouted, explaining in a confident, matter-of-fact tone.

"Well, if that means that you're mine also, I don't mind." Your soft voice brought him comfort, as you tightened your little hands grip on his. Manjiro's cheeks flushed with a warm, rosy hue as your words, expressed in a soft and reassuring voice, reached his ears.

"We're here! C'mon, I can't wait to see her!" Manjiro pulled you behind him as he made a beeline to his mothers hospital room.

"Manjiro, we're in a hospital, keep it down!" You whisper shouted at him.

You sat next to Manjiro as he rambled to his mother about how he beat up a couple of new guys, he always counted the days from week to week to tell her about his stories. On the other you examine his mother, somehow, she seemed different, a lot weaker and sickly. Her hands were cold as she brushed them against your cheek,

"How about you, my little angel?" She asked,

"I'm good, but... I miss you. When are you coming back home?" Your tone is gentle, pleasing to the ears, as you leaned further into her touch despite the coldness of her hand.

Without uttering a word in response, she bent down, gently pressing a kiss on your forehead. Then, with a tender gesture, she drew both you and Manjiro into her embrace, casting a meaningful gaze at both of you.

"Promise me something, you two, please never leave each other's side. Manjiro, you're strong, so protect Y/n. And Y/n you're kind and tender, please soften his heart."

"Huh? Mom, what's that supposed to mean?" He whined and pouted, as you giggled at his facial expression.

That was beginning of it all—the pact that bound both you and Manjiro, the curse intertwining your lives.

As memories lingered from that day at the hospital with Manjiro's mother, the promise made to her weighed heavily on your heart as you made your way to the Sano home without anyone's knowledge, especially Mikey, you went to Manjiro's older brother, Shinichiro and grandpa, to break the news, the upcoming move due to family issues. Despite your attempt to stay quiet and secretive, Manjiro overheard, and the news shattered him. What was he supposed to do now with his mothers promise? And you, you couldn't leave. You were with him from day one, literally. The thought made his throat tighten, but what could he do?

Years passed, and life took unexpected turns, finding yourself back in Japan due to the loss of your parents and your sole remaining relative, your aunt, residing in Japan. Involuntarily, the memories of your past resurfaced, a certain ache in your heart also resurfaced. You couldn't shake the question of whether you could find him ever again in the bustling streets of Shibuya. The thought of your first and only friend lingered in your mind, who you never forgot, wondering if fate would bring you together once more, this time, forever.

"What the hell am I thinking, he probably hates me now."

"Y/n!" You heard your aunt call out, as she approached you with open arms. 

Your turned to your caller only for the air to be knocked from your lung with he unexpectedly strong hug, as she continued,

"Oh look at you, all grown up and beautiful!" She exclaimed dreamily.

You smiled, accepting her inviting hug, missing the feeling of being embraced by someone loving, especially after your recent loss.

"C'mon, I made plenty of food at home!" She urged as she grabbed your bags, one in each hand.

"W-wait, let me help, those are kinda heavy-" You reached out to grab one of your bags, but she lightly smacked your hand away.

"What do I look like to you, an old hag?" She picked up both bags with ease.

Woah...she's strong..

You soon realized why she's so strong when you reached her house,

"You live here!" You said, a little shocked by the fancy look home.

"Yep, my earnings from years of hard work." She said walking through the front gate and further inside.

You looked around like a child in a candy store, admiring everything around you. The garden, the nicely mowed grass and bushes. Once you stepped inside, your jaw gapped a little. After a tour of the house, she took you to a room, where the only thing in it was a hatch,

"You're not gonna kill me, are you?"

"Are you crazy, why would I kill my only niece? You're like the child that I never had." She said flicking your forehead, she smirked before she continued,

"It's a surprise, just climb down." She said as she opened it,

Climbing down, you were surprised to be met with a built-in Gym underground.

Oh, makes sense why she's so toned now

"Prepare yourself because I'm not raising no scrawny girl, I'm gonna make you tough, kiddo."

"hUh?" You're voice cracked,

After showing you your room and helping you put your stuff away, you finally sat down and had dinner with your aunt. She was going on about her life and you were invested, truly.

"So tell me, kiddo, how's life been for you?"

"Hmm, I manage." You answered, shrugging a little.

She gave you an unpleasant look before booing, "Boo, tomato, c'mon I know you got more than that."

"Well, what do you want to know about me, auntie?" You asked, laughing a little between your words.

She smiled as she thought,

There it is, she smiled...are you happy sister? I made her smile for you

"What are you looking forward to, here in Tokyo, I could take you anywhere you want."

It took you a second to think before you said, "I wanna go to a specific restaurant actually."

Your aunt looked visibly hurt, "D-do you not like my cooking?"’

The tears in the corners of her eyes made you choke before you frantically shook your head, 

"N-no not at all, I promise! It's just...it was my favorite restaurant when I was kid, I always went with...my friend."

"Okay! First thing tomorrow, I'll take you there then." She said, giving you a warm smile,

Well, she changed pretty quick..

"...seriously, this is your go-to place?" She regarded you with an intrigued expression, raising doubts about your choice in restaurants.

“And here I thought you were gonna take us to some gourmet restaurant.” she added as you entered.

A sudden wave of bittersweet nostalgia washed over you, fueled by cherished memories associated with the restaurant. 

"Oh, there are people here?" Your aunt expressed surprise.

That shouldn’t be a surprise…

Feeling a bit disheartened by her continual disapproval of the place, you sighed as you made your way to an empty booth. As your eyes scanned the area, they landed on a somewhat shorter boy, with you appearing a little taller than him. His long blonde hair was tied at the top, while the strands on the sides flowed freely. Accompanying him was a more intimidating figure, a boy with a tattoo on the side of his shaved head. They exude an air of trouble, and you realized you had been staring for too long when your eyes met with his pitch-black, piercing gaze. The eye contact lingered long enough for your aunt to shake your shoulder, snapping you out of it, and for his friend to call his name, breaking the sudden connection.

“Mikey..”

As you proceeded to your assigned booth, you couldn't resist one last glance backward, catching his intense gaze. A flicker of recognition sparked deep within your heart. Despite sensing a profound connection, you carried on your chosen path, unaware of the unspoken longing, as the passage of years had erased the memories that once tethered you together. While enjoying your kids' meal, you intermittently picked at your food, occasionally looking up to meet that same compelling gaze. It felt as if your existence was being drawn in, your heart pounding almost painfully in your chest.

Why..Why the hell is he just so…

“Damnit Mikey, what the hell is wrong with you?” His friend asked, annoyed by his sudden absence. 

He turned towards that, which seemed to distract mikey, and there you were. Feeling a bit intimidated, you quickly averted your gaze, avoiding his friend's scrutiny.

"Are you planning to order something?" you inquired, using the question as a means to divert your attention.

"No way," she exclaimed, eyeing your food suspiciously. "Let's leave. I'll take you to a proper restaurant," she asserted with confidence.

"Sure, let's go," you responded promptly, rising from your seat.

Your aunt expressed surprise, "Wait, really? I didn't expect you to agree so quickly. Alright then!"

As you both left, she remarked, "Y/n, don't forget to remind me to take you to a clothing store later."

"Y/n... Y/n... Y/N!" He murmured softly. Before he could comprehend, his legs carried him forward, propelled by an instinctive force.

NO WAY, NO FUCKING WAY 

"Y/N!" He called out, breathless from his sprint to catch up.

Halted by the unexpected call, you abruptly turned around. On the opposite side of the street, he came into view.

It can’t be…

Time stood still as if the universe held its breath. After years apart, your name lingered in his memory, indelible and unforgettable. In that suspended moment, all else faded away.

“Manjiro...?” you whispered. He didn't need to hear your voice; just from reading your lips, he knew you called out to him..

-- Yeah, Ima definitely writing a part 2, This was wayyy too long, hope you guys enjoyed --

[streets-in-paradise]

Eternal Courtship - Achilles x (fem)Captive!Reader

Troy (2004) Oneshot

Requested by Anon

" hi dearr! Please a story of achilles, in which he falls in love with a woman in the middle of the war and shows his most sensitive side (in the achilles way)"

Abso-fucking-lutely!

I love this so much and hope I did your request justice. Like i told you in the answer of your ask, I got the idea of making her a captive because it's an easy way for them to meet in the middle of the war, but their dynamic is the opposite of the one he has with Briseis in the movie's canon.

Warnings: warrior x war captive romance with grumpy x sunshine vibes. It's implied that the war lasts a bit longer than in the movie, with a time gap happening between the arrival of the greeks/argument of Achilles and Agamemnon and the pacted combat of Paris and Menelaus. This fic is meant to take place in the course of that time gap.

Summary: The wrath of Achilles is a matter of grief for the greeks, but it comes like a ray of hope in your days as their captive. His absense on the battlefield is good news for your people at the other side of the wall, and a calming sign for you. Despite his countrymen are too focused on his pride as the major cause, you believe a warlord willing to risk so much for a simple slave girl is someone capable of performing noble acts.

Intrigued by the glimpses of that kindness he refuses to acknowledge, you approach him without fear and your guesses get confirmed. In your determination to prove that he has a heart, you fail to realize of your slow conquest of it, untill the proof you are looking for comes in the form of his passionate love.

Note: Inspired by a prompt by @creativepromptsforwriting

Prompt 9 - " Why do you always manage to persuade me with your charm? "

Tags: @thorsslxve

The greek army was marching, but the myrmidons had stayed. Their leader refused to take them to combat in protest for the humillation he suffered through the mistreatement of his stolen slave. Briseis, your companion in captivity, was dragged away to the tent of Agamemnon, and the things you have heard about that man were so vile that you feared for her fate more than yours. Her first master had given you to his cousin, a lad younger than you, and you would have never imagined he himself would bother that much for her. Still, he went as far as abstaining from fighting when she got taken away from him.

What happened on the tent of the mycenaean king was commented all over the camp. It was said that the angry myrmidon was about to kill the guards, fellow greeks on his side of the war, for that trojan girl he had just meet. In the language of men, Briseis wasn't different from a pile of gold. They spoke of insults on the honor of the invincible warrior being deprived of his reward as the cause of such mercieless reaction coming from his pride. Ríght after leaving the tent with evident frustration, Patroclus claimed his cousin was heartless for abandoning their countrymen over a distribution dispute. If captives were the issue, he was willing to give you back to him. After all, he didnt want a slave in the first place. You were the compensation he received for not being allowed to fight, a distraction Achilles wanted him to have so he won't insist on the matter.

Since he remained on his tent for the rest of the day, you were sent there as an unwanted present returned to its source. It was the first time you were going to be completely alone with Achilles, and you had a peculiar opinion on him.

To you, his recent actions couldn't be framed as a mere temper tantrum. For as much desperate as the greeks could be to get back his intervention on the war, all their defeats without him would be blamed on him. It was a huge risk for his reputation, that he took after nearly assasinating some fellow soldiers trying to protect a slave.

What the camp perceived as brutal selfishness were acts of great kindness in your perspective. The man you despised barely a few hours ago had won your respectfull admiration. Curiosity overcame any fears as you peeked inside his self reclusion shelter. Common sense would have suggested to approach with caution. Instead, you were standing there with a polite smile and a bowl of food.

He barely looked at you, too lost in hoarding anger.

" I'm not hungry. "

The dry treatment didn't stop you.

" A bit lonely, perhaps? " You sweetly inquirred. " Patroclus is worried for you, so he has decided to give you his present hoping to cheer you up over loosing Briseis. "

The explanation got him more interested in starting a conversation.

" Is that what he believes i'm all about? The reason of my rage? A toy the big bad king took from me and i can simply replace? " He mocked the presented assumption. " I promised that girl that I would keep her safe. I gave her my word, but Agamemnon spat on it. "

The response was fascinating, even better than what you imagined.

" I value your commitement to that promise, no other would have defended her as fiercely as you did. "

Achilles received the compliment with skepticism.

" You should have seen how repulsed she was by that. "

The warrior was pretending to be careless because he wanted to know your opinion. Used as he was to stumble with the hate of Briseis, your more docile attitude was hard to understand because you didn't seem scared enough to be pretending submission.

" I'm impressed, and quite confused. " You admitted as you took your first steps inside. " The destroyer of the temple didn't hesitate in spilling the blood of sacred servants, yet barely a few hours later he turned against his own kind to protect the last one standing. "

You paced arround the place seeking for a spot to leave your load, then passively invited him to check it by choosing one on his reach.

" Your countrymen think you are being recklessly selfish, but i believe otherwise. A man who risks so much for a war prisoner he just meet proves that he is more than the destruction he caused. "

The trusting bright in your eyes got him out of his absortion.

" I will have to break your childish illusions, girl : all i care about is glory. Agamemnon is denying me the recognition i deserve, breaking my pacts for me, and I can't allow it."

To that seriously delivered statement, all you did was releasing some light chuckles and proceed to deliver some sweet mockery.

" Sure, sir … Whatever you say. "

Never before a stranger had reacted to him in such a relaxed way. Hate would have been easier to deal with than your sweetness.

He had no weapons to fight it, only his sarcasm.

" Mind to explain what you find so amusing?"

You didn't mind to share your theory, impatient to see how he would react to it.

" Turns out you have a heart after all, and you are upset because i discovered it. "

Achilles gave you the cold look he would show for an enemy in a singular combat.

" I'm a ruthless killer, I would slaughter your entire family and feel nothing about it. "

The warning was completely effectiveless.

" You couldn't even handle my best friend to your king knowing he would be capable of raping her. " You reminded him. " And you gave me to your cousin already aware that he would respect me. "

Facts had spoken better than his words and he realized that your nice positivity wasn't foolishness.

" That doesn't change what i am, only tells you that I wouldn't hurt helpless women."

" And you think that's not important? In this war, particularly?" You recalled inmediately. " I heard other greeks cheering themselves up saying they would all sleep with the wife of a trojan to avenge Menelaus. If the spartan king lost control of his wife, then marriage as an institution is threatened. They need to kill Helen and rape as many trojan women as they can so the horror will keep their women at bay. "

Intrigued by the practical wisedown of your words, he tapped with his hands a spot for you to sit beside him. As you followed the command, you remembered the food served near him.

" Eat, I made it specially for you. "

Achilles looked at what appeared to be an exotic version of a lamb stew.

" Are you trying to win me over with trojan food? It's humanly impossible for you to be this kind after what I have done to you." He concluded his suspicious inspection. " What's the trick? Is it poisoned? Did you spat inside as you were making it? "

You were still looking at him so sweetly and he became even more disconcerted.

If he needed proof, you were more than willing of eating the food for him given all you had previously was the terrible dishes served for slaves.

" It lacks some of the proper spicing, but I worked hard on it, so i'm not going to let it go to waste. "

Your shocked master couldnt take his eyes off you, observing you eating as if you were back in your home.

" Is it good? "

" Could have been worse, at least I was given to a good man. " You commented on your situation instead of the dish. " One that would be willing to threaten his own countrymen and inmovilize his army if something wrong happens to me. "

The praise made him smirk.

" Lovely … Where do you find such niceness?"

You drank some of his own wine before replying.

" King Priam's philosophy is deeply based on the power of kindness. "

He stiffled a chuckle, fearing you may find his amusement insulting.

" He should reconsider the strategy, wars aren't won with kindness."

" No, but small gestures can make big differences. " You corrected him. " Look arround you : if Agamemnon wouldn't have proceeded with cruelty, he wouldn't have lost your support. It can also be said that the kind promise you did to Briseis has the potentiality to shift the course of the war. "

The myrmidon was speechless, understanding some logical reasoning behind the naive optimism.

" I'm still an enemy of Troy. "

To the dark reminder, you had yet another sweet comeback.

" We can still respect each other. "

Achilles didn't waited much to correct you.

" I believe respect is earned, not owed. "

For the first time in the talk he had trully managed to annoy you.

" Then you can accept that your infamous wrath has earned you my respects and eat your food. "

You got him under his same reasoning and he conceeded you the victory.

" Is there more of that for me to try? "

Achilles developed a clear verdict out of that first encounter. He did enjoy the food, but he liked you way more. Even when your mindsets and attitudes were completely opposite, the way you have choosen to work on that difference made him feel oddly good arround you. No accusations from a stance of moral superiority came from you. Instead, you were proving your higher morals with your everyday acts of mundane kindness. Sometimes he got the feeling that you weren't even really Interested in being the better person, since respect and reciprocity were more important to you than being ríght.

To be yelled at was way easier than adapting to your attentive behavior. Softness like yours was confusing, specially knowing it wasn't performative. You weren't a scared girl trying to appeal a master, those actions simply reflected who you were.

The mystery of how you kept clinging to you kindness in such an adverse context occupied his mind out of boredoom. His thought process constantly battled with the evidence of his everyday getting to know you, trying desperately to ignore he was at the edge of an infatuation.

Making him company wasn't a problem to you, since it was way more of a pleasant activity than doing slave chores on the camp. On good days, you would even manage to get him out of his tent for a walk on the beach at the hours that the ausence of all the other armies made the place more quiet.

Visiting Briseis was complicated even when Agamemnon wasn't near, but you managed to get news proving the protest had some effect. Her new master didn't lay hands on her and she confessed you she believed the man had no idea of what to do with her because he only took her to punish his political rival.

It would be a matter of time before you would reunite again and, once that would happen, you were planning to beg the myrmidon leader for your liberation. Your friend thought that keeping your hopes in that man so up was a mistake, but you were convinced that he could be willing to do the ríght thing. He was hard to deal with, but never cruel to any of you.

In your particular experience, you had no complains of his treatment. If you wouldn't be dressed in misserable clothes everytime you had to wash your only decent dress, you would be feeling as if you were getting to know a suitor that your parents had you promised to. It was a thought you often toyed with, a sort of secret fantasy making the shackles feel lighter.

With the only exception of his self naturalization of nudity, Achilles had behaved like a true gentleman and you were happy to reciprocate the good treatment. However, if he would protectively hold your hand during your incursions outside his tent, you would forget for an instant of the war going on and feel as if you were all alone in a process of eternal courtship.

For as much as he kept denying to have a caring heart, you were seeing it from a mile away. You understood he needed to keep the facade despite that was all it was. Appearances, his rougeness of warrior hidding his sweeter emotions. At the time most greeks were calling him heartless, blind to their suffering, he stopped making himself blind to the pain of the only ones in the camp they won't care about.

He turned his back against them, but showed you his heart.

Every night since you left the tent of Patroclus, the new routine with Achilles was having dinner together and sharing the límits of his tent to sleep. In the beggining, he allowed you to have your space and pick a corner to be away from him. That changed one rainy night, when the sound of thunder from outside made you seek shelter on him.

Achilles noticed inmediately how you approached in silence to snuggle against him like a scared child.

" Did your parents never told you that's just Zeus bringing his cheers to mortals? "

You looked up to face him, as if you were trying to justify yourself but couldn't come up with anything.

" They did, but that didn't change much … Thunder still frightens me. "

Darkness didn't hide from him the peculiar beauty of your pleading face and he simply couldn't resist it. Patience lead him to a good end and you were approaching him willingly. He felt you clinging to his firm body, using him for comfort in a sleepless night and begging with your eyes that he would let you in.

It was perfect, perhaps too perfect.

" Mind if we stay like this tonight?" In your cluelessness about his feelings, you finally asked. " The weather gets on my nerves. "

He dreamed of being so close to you, but would have cutted one of his hands before admitting such vulnerability.

" Why do you always manage to persuade me with your charm ? "

He got to hear more of your light chuckling thinking that, if he wouldn't be cautious about scaring you, he would have kissed you.

You started to relax arround him and that allowed you to explain yourself better.

" My uncle died in the sea, a bad storm wrecked the ship and very few survived to tell the story. Briseis' father was with him, loosing someone when we were so little brought us close and that's how we became friends … What I never told her is that I blamed myself for years because my father was meant to go in that travel too, but he had other business to attend in the city. "

The usually cheerfull tone of your voice turned sadly serious as you tried not to cry remembering that.

" Why did I got to have mine and she lost hers? Her uncle told us it was the will of the gods, … but it's all happening again. She is stucked with Agamemnon while i'm safe with you. "

He understood the reason of your guilt, but wasn't going to let you keep thinking on that.

" Lucky girl. " He purred in a raspy voice. " Do you like being with me? "

The crashing sounds outside made you grip him tighter and he rounded your waist with one arm. The poor garments you were wearing made it odd to the touch and he wished he would be feeling your skin instead. Following his sleeping habit, he was naked at least from the waist up, and he did noticed you developing a subtle curiosity for his body.

" You are nice. " Was your vague reply. " Patroclus was very dissapointed when we meet. "

It wasn't exactly what he was looking for, but he kept trying.

" Trust me, it wasn't your fault. You were a wonderfull gift, but my little cousin is the opposite of the mycenaean king. He wants to do all the work and doesn't care for the pay. I didn't let him fight that time, so being presented with a reward for doing nothing got him upset. "

You got his point, but cassually threw in another idea.

" Maybe i was too old for his taste. "

The moment stimulated him to share some of his own load in reciprocity for your previous confession.

" My father died in the battlefield and i'm doomed to share his fate, but I don't want that for him. "

You awkwardly moved your head so it would rest on his chest and he started playing with your hair. No word from you flowed within the action, fearing any interruption would have make him aware of his fallen mask.

" Had you ever felt so sure about what you want for your life, completely convinced of how you want it to be like, then one day everything changes and shakes every certainty you had? "

It was most likely he didn't think his words carefully, because that was literally your story.

" Well, while my friend became a priestess, I knew I wanted to be a wife. I told her I was not going to let our different paths separate us, so i have been asisting as a bystander in every religious ceremony she has been in. As a noblewoman, i was allowed to, so I did. "

He had a close idea of were the tale was going, but didn't dare to sarcastically interrupt it.

" Polydamas was heartbroken when he found out Briseis had choosen priesthood, so i reached to comfort him. I must have been very good in that, because he started seeking my company. Since them we had been flirting for a while and i told myself that was my call. He is a fine trojan warrior and a seer, a man of excellent reputation and a personal friend of Prince Hector … So, i believed my life was taking its course I was following his game untill courtship would lead to marriage. That was the life I had planned, untill one day your men invaded my friend's temple. "

You stopped for an instant, before the callout would get too obvious.

" Tell me about yours. What kind of perspective changer event is ruining your plans? "

Achilles felt relieved of not sensing the enthusiasm of an enamored girl in your description of that trojan noble you were mentioning. If he would have found out you were in love with someone else waiting for you at the other side of the wall, he would have felt a heartbreak for the first time on his life and he had no idea of how he would have reacted to that. He couldn't care less about the trojan possibly wanting you for a wife, as long as he felt you weren't convinced of wanting him.

" I found some light for my obscure existence. " He vaguely admitted you. " I stopped fighting and realized there is so much I gave away for it, so much i will never have, and maybe what I got from a lifetime of warrior isn't worthy … I wasted my life following the orders of that fool of a king. "

Your fingers were tracing the patterns of his muscles as if you seeked to relax him out of those troubled thoughts.

" I believe it's never too late to start over, if that's what you want. " You adviced. " Take me as example: i came to terms with the fact that I will never be the wife of some honorable warrior. I will never make my family proud, to them I will be a memory too painfull or to shamefull to keep alive ... And if by chance I return to them, i will become a load for my father's home, because no trojan will want to marry me knowing I have been the slave of a greek. "

Hearing you express disenchantment was very unusual, and it was killing him. He couldn't stand your sadness, feeling sure that he would have done anything to end it.

" You would have been the best wife a warrior could aspire to get. "

That kind praise meant a lot to you, so you moved up just a bit in order to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek.

Achilles smirked, ready to tease you despite he felt the gesture was very proper of you.

" You call that a kiss? Had Polydamas never give you a real one ? "

His provocation surprised you, but you weren't alarmed about it.

" Most trojan noblemen flirt keeping some decorum. " You attempted to explain. " Despite what the Insidious imagery of the war suggests, Paris is an exception to the courtship conduct of a trojan man. "

The myrmidon glanced at your lips, then deep into your eyes.

" If you let me, I can show you a glimpse of what you have been missing. " He seductively offered. " I will gift you a nice memory you can use to fight the fears. Instead of thinking of your dead uncle, or the guilt you felt, you will think of me everytime you will hear the sky cracking."

Your most inmediate response was a nervous smile.

" Would you do that for me? "

His mouth was dangerously close to yours and you parted your lips to let him in without a thought. The taste was wonderfull and with every instant of your pleased reception, his passion increased. You were at his mercy, almost completely lost to the new sensations and he knew he could have done with you whatever he wanted, but he didn't.

The trail of kisses had reached your neck when Achilles rolled on top of you. He was trying to stretch the fabric of your clothes, fighting for access to more skin without having to undress you ríght away. At that moment he got to hate your replacement wearing given in captivity as much as you did. There were no decent women clothes in the camp, so you got what his men could find for a slave. He despised it, that thing didn't make your beauty justice like your dress did. You deserved better, you weren't just a slave. Not anymore, and he haven't feel like that with you in a good while.

He was in love with you, and he haven't dare to say the words. In your quest to find his heart, you had taken ownership of it without realizing how deep you were reaching. The emotional intimacy and your adictive sweetness had won him over.

For him, that was as new as the physical contact was for you. He was paying close attention to your every reaction, surprised that you let him get as far when he sneaked his hands underneath your clothes. His caresses followed the sides of your curves and your closed eyes got open wide out of surprise, but you were still smiling under him.

It was the loveliest vision and he got enraptured by it.

" You are so beautifull … " He whispered softly. " Such lovely girl. "

You easily melted to his praise.

" Really? "

The sound of your voice calmed some of his overtaking passion. He remembered of how trusting you were of his softer side, how firmly you believed he was a good man despite of his war crimes.

For as much strenght as it would take from him, he needed to control himself for you. It was too early to claim you completely.

" You are the light shinning before my darkness. "

Achilles gave you a peck on the forehead and retired his hands from your body to caress both of your cheeks. With one more deep kiss, he prepared to cradle you in his arms for the rest of the night.

It was the most thoughtfull proof of love he could have given to you, but he didn't stop there.

Days later some traders from Lemnos had arrived to ressuply the greek army of various articles, but they were loaded of other items they meant to sell somewhere else on the way back home. From them Achilles got you a beautifull dress worthy of a lady, that he made you wear on the first dinner he shared with his men since his wrath was unleashed. You considered that telling stories and singing songs was little price to pay for such magnificent gift, but the experience showed you something else.

He kept you by his side the whole time, as an honorable warrior would while showing off his beloved wife.

[fandoms-x-reader]

Replay - Alternate Ending

Requested By: Multiple Users! Thank you for the support <3

Summary: No matter how hard you try to save your friends, death is unavoidable and in order to save you friends, you make the ultimate sacrifice. The Seven Demon Brothers x Reader Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon & Solomon Luke (platonically), Mephisto, Raphael & Thirteen Word Count: 4,094

Replay - Pt. 1 | Replay Pt. 2 | Good Ending | Bad Ending

^Inspiration for this oneshot! Shoutout to @olivia-willo-w for sending it to me <3^

Time after time you watched everyone you loved pass.

Time after time they promised you they would survive.

Time after time you tried to protect them and failed.

You had lost hope that things would ever be different.

You loved everyone, but you didn’t want to live through this again. You couldn’t live through this again. 

You had all put up a valiant effort. You had fought harder than you ever had before.

Not a single person there was unscathed. You were all bloody and in pain. You were exhausted, but it wasn’t over.

And you were beginning to think it would never be over. You had to do something - anything - to end the war you had been fighting for so long now.

You took a moment on the battlefield to pause and look around.

That’s when you saw your chance. An opening to end things once and for all.

It would surely result in your death. After all, you were only a human and what you were about to do was something that no one would be able to survive.

But, as you looked at your friends, memories began flashing through your mind.

You remembered the first time you danced with Lucifer - how tightly he held your hand as he all but threatened you. You and he had come such a long way from that. Now, your time together was filled with his favorite tea and long and loving talks. 

You remembered how Mammon hated the fact that he had to babysit you when you first got to the Devildom. Now, he never wanted to be away from you. The two of you were partners in crime, like Bonnie and Clyde.

Levi never even opened the door to his bedroom for you at first. He hated normies and you were sure you would never be able to change his mind. And when you did, you had a true friend that you knew that you could always depend on. 

And Satan had been so angry all of the time before he met you. He didn’t give you the time of day at first until your trip up to the human world. Now, you’re the only one who can get through to him and the only one he’s ever felt so connected to.

Asmo was so shallow when you first met him. You were so positive the only thing he cared about was his appearance. But, after making a pact with him you could see how beautiful he was underneath it all and he always made sure you felt loved.

Beel had never had any problem with you - except for that one time you ate his food and he destroyed the kitchen. But, the two of you had grown so much closer nonetheless. He was your number-one supporter and always gave the best hugs.

And let’s not even mention what happened between you and Belphie. The two of you had come a very long way from that time. He was your cuddle buddy now and someone who was surprisingly good at being able to comfort you.

Then there was the future King of the Devildom. At first, you were simply a way for him to achieve his goal. He never thought he would have fallen for you as hard as he did and you never would have thought there was such a kind and caring personality behind the ruler of Hell.

You and Barbatos hadn’t grown closer until later, but he was just as important to you as the others. He was always there to offer you advice and if you ever needed any help you knew that he was only a phone call away.

Then there were the angels. Sweet and innocent Luke who only wanted to protect you and Simeon would give up his life for you in an instant. They were the nicest creatures you had ever met and you couldn’t imagine your life without them.

Lastly, there was Solomon. Your fellow human who had been with you since the start of this journey. He did everything he could to emotionally support and connect with you in a way only humans could and he was the reason you knew how to do any magic at all.

Even Mephisto, Raphael, and Thirteen held a special place in your heart. They were such amazing and unique people. You hated losing them just as much as you hated losing any of the others.

They all had equal pieces of your heart and you knew that if you did this - even if it killed you - it would be worth it. Because you would be saving them. The ones you held so close to you.

And it was that thought alone that pushed your legs to move on their own.

Your mind blanked out any fear as you kept your friends at the forefront of your mind.

They were all busy fighting their own enemies, doing what they could to stay alive.

So, none of them noticed what you were doing until it was too late for them to reach you.

You heard an array of protests being thrown your way as fifteen hearts simultaneously stopped beating, watching the scene in front of them unfold. 

In a matter of moments, you felt the most intense pain you had ever felt, and then you felt nothing.

You were numb. You wouldn’t have even known you were still alive if it hadn’t been for Mammon coming into your view.

He was saying something but you couldn’t hear it.

He was crying and you wanted to reach up and wipe his tears away, but you couldn’t move.

And as your vision started to fade you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked even when he was crying.

That was the last thing you saw before everything went black.

*

Lucifer was doing everything in his power to protect everyone. His eyes were looking a million places at once, determined not to lose any of his siblings or friends.

That’s when he saw you running. His eyebrows knitted in confusion as he tried to figure out where you were going.

When he saw where you were headed, he felt like he couldn’t breathe as all of his senses went numb. What were you thinking?!

Lucifer let out a shout of protest that grabbed everyone’s attention and he quickly took care of his current problem before making his way to you.

But he was too late and as he saw your body falling to the ground, he felt his world falling down with you. 

His body stopped moving on its own, frozen in shock and pain as he watched the one he loved get struck down.

And before he could register what was happening, tears began streaming down his face and it felt harder and harder to breathe.

His hands moved to hold his head as the tears began pouring out harder and he bit his lip to hold back a sob that was threatening to escape.

 This couldn’t be real. You couldn’t leave him.

*

Mammon was fighting just as valiantly as his older brother. He was doing everything he could to stay focused and not put himself in danger - for your sake.

But when he heard Lucifer yell, every inch of his body shifted its focus to you. And when he saw what you were doing, he immediately ran to you to stop you.

He was the fastest so of course he would be the first one to reach you. But, even he was too late.

He got there only in time to catch your body and as he looked into your eyes and saw the life draining out of them, the tears naturally began pouring down his cheeks.

He laid you down on the ground and pleaded with you to stay with him but he could tell that you couldn’t hear him and it was all the more heartbreaking. 

Mammon’s body went into panic mode as he was doing everything he could to help you yet nothing at the same time. Because you were already gone. 

He felt like hyperventilating as the harsh reality came crashing down on him. You were gone. 

He suddenly found himself standing back up, taking a few steps backward as he tried to breathe, but the only thing he could do was sob.

His hands rested on his knees and he did everything he could to support himself as he mourned your loss. 

You were his partner in crime. There is no him if there is no you. 

*

This was the first time Levi had a chance to use his power in its full glory since his days in the Celestial Realm. And, he was the third-most powerful for a reason.

He was fighting with everything he had, finally getting a chance to prove to everyone that he wasn’t a waste.

And for the first time in a long time, he was feeling really good about himself - until he saw what you were doing.

Levi let out a loud gasp as suddenly every ounce of confidence he was getting back fled his body.

He froze, unable to say or do anything as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. This couldn’t be happening.

When you fell to the ground, the sobs broke from Levi’s lips as the tears streamed down his face with no sign of stopping.

One of his hands raised to his forehead as the pain he felt in his chest only grew worse and worse.

He wanted to blame himself for being good enough. He wanted to apologize to everyone for not being able to save you. 

But, all he could do was mourn.

*

When the Avatar of Wrath goes into a frenzy, it was hard to pull him out of it. And that was exactly what Satan was in right now.

In order to achieve the level he needed to make sure he survived, he had to block everything out except for his anger. For once, he let his sin take over and run rampant. 

He would survive - for you.

But, his brother's cries pulled him out of the state he was in and as he started seeing clearly, he wished he couldn’t see at all.

He saw the tears falling down his brothers’ cheeks and then he saw your body lying on the ground and his blood ran cold.

He immediately ran over to you. He studied everything he could about humans, so surely there was something he could do to help. 

When he finally reached you, his hands reached everywhere he could attempting to help but not knowing where to start. 

Finally, he decided to start with the most obvious place - checking your pulse. 

His world stopped as he realized he couldn’t feel it. 

The tears began pouring just as heavily down his cheeks as his brothers and his hand moved to his mouth to cover the sobs that he couldn’t keep in as he looked at your dead body.

You were gone.

*

For once, Asmo had thrown all worries about his beauty out the window because he knew that if he was worried about chipping a nail or ruining his hair, he wouldn’t make it.

And he couldn’t do that to you. He had so much more love to give you. He had so many more ways to show you that love.

He was going to make sure that he got that chance. All he had to do was survive like he promised you.

Everything changed when he saw you get struck down. 

He immediately let out a cry of heartbreak and pain as he watched it happen.

One of his hands raised to his cheek while the other rose to his mouth, as his body was overcome with sobs.

And that’s when he realized - you didn’t promise him.

He told you that you were everything he had ever wanted. He told you that he wasn’t done loving you.

So, why didn’t you promise him that you would survive too?

*

Going into this, Beel had been so scared that he wouldn’t be able to fulfill his role as the protector of the family.

He had been so scared that he was going to lose one of his siblings like in the last war that they fought together.

But, everyone was still alive and it sent a wave of relief through Beel. He knew that they still had a long fight ahead of them, but seeing everyone still alive gave him hope.

And then you went and sacrificed yourself for them.

Beel felt his heart rip apart as he saw you get struck.

He ran to you as fast as he could but stopped before he reached you, seeing you lying lifeless on the ground. 

His body felt like it was going into shock as he realized his worst fear was coming true and his head fell to his hand as the tears flooded down his cheeks.

The night that the two of you spent together, he told you that he would always protect you. And he failed.

You were gone and he couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault. Like he should have done more.

He was so, so sorry for not protecting you.

*

For the most part, Belphie was following the others’ lead on the battlefield.

It wasn’t because he needed help. He was doing an excellent job of holding his own.

He just wanted to make sure that he didn’t mess up. He wanted to make sure everyone made it out of there.

He thought they had done it this time. He thought he did a good job. And then he saw you.

Seeing you on the ground gave Belphie a panic attack as memories of the time he hurt you overwhelmed him. He would take it all back if he could.

He had already apologized for it and you had already forgiven him. But seeing you die made him feel guilty all over again.

One of his hands raised to cover his face as he freely cried, expressing all of his pain.

He didn’t have a chance to really make things up to you yet. He didn’t have a chance to show you how much he loved you yet.

And the realization that he wouldn’t get that chance broke him.

*

Diavolo was the type of person where if he was going to go out - he was going to out swinging. And he was fully prepared to lay down his life for everyone else if it got to that point.

What he was not prepared for was for you to do that for everyone. 

He knew you loved them all but he never would have thought that your feelings were strong enough to compel you to do this.

If you had told him that he would have felt this much pain at your loss when he first met you, Diavolo would have never believed it.

But he had fallen so hard for you and now the idea of living without you was too much to bear. 

He was supposed to stay strong under any circumstances, but losing the one he loved was too much.

He turned his back to the others as he crumbled, not wanting them to see him fall apart.

As the tears poured down his cheeks and he silently sobbed, he kept asking himself why you did it.

Couldn’t you see how much they all needed you?

*

Barbatos had refused to use his powers to look into the future. He knew that it didn’t always end well and he was afraid of the consequences.

He had never regretted a decision so much in his entire life.

If he had looked ahead, he would have seen this. He would have been able to stop you from doing this. 

And you would be standing next to them, giving them the smile that melted all of their hearts instead of lying lifeless on the ground.

He was a demon with unparalleled power and he was so angry with himself because he could have done something. He could have prevented this outcome.

Tears silently poured down his cheeks as he looked at you - the result of his failure.

But it wouldn’t be this way for long. He was going to find a way to fix this mistake. 

He was going to find a way to bring you back.

*

Simeon and Luke were mourning together but for two very different reasons.

Luke was mourning the loss of the closest thing he had to a best friend. You had defended him and protected him in the Devildom even though he was an angel and you were only a human. 

You always brought a smile to his face and you always included him and it was something he would always appreciate. There weren’t enough words to show his appreciation and adoration for you.

Simeon was mourning the loss of the love of his life. You were the only person who had ever elicited such strong feelings from him. You had shown him what love was and he had every intention of showing you his love in return.

You made him feel alive - you made him feel free. And all he wanted was an opportunity to express how deeply he was in love with you.

He wanted to love you until the end of his days.

He never thought this was how it would end.

He would have laid down his life for you - if only he had gotten to you sooner. He could saved you. 

Both angels wished with all their hearts that they could bring you back to life. But if they couldn’t do that then they would scour all three worlds for a way to see you again.

You would not be gone from them forever.

*

Solomon was too stunned to move. He felt lost, unsure of how you all reached this point.

One second you were fighting alongside him and the next second you were lying dead on the ground.

When you first told Solomon that he had died, he realized that of all the things he had done in his long life, he had never had a true love. 

You were supposed to be that love. 

He had told you that he would love you forever and he meant it.

He made a plan for if things didn’t go his way. He had a plan if he ended up dying.

But he didn’t have a plan for if you died. He didn’t even think it was a possibility.

And yet here he was, standing over your lifeless body as tears ran down his cheeks.

He would not stand for this. This was not going to be permanent. 

He didn’t care if he had to sell his soul.

He would bring you back.

*

Mephisto wasn’t nearly as close to you as the others. He didn’t have as much time to spend with you and didn’t get a chance to know on as deep a level.

And yet, he still found tears falling down his cheeks at your loss.

He was a proud demon, always looking the best and being the best.

But, right now, his pride was the furthest thing from his mind, replaced with grief.

He never thought he would feel this way, but as he saw you lying lifeless on the ground, he couldn’t help but feel sad - because he was going to miss you. 

He wanted to laugh at the word. There was no way that you - a mere human - had grabbed such a strong hold over his heart.

But as he felt the pain of losing you, he knew it was true. 

He had fallen for you just as hard as the others had.

*

Raphael was unsure what he was supposed to do.

He had stopped moving just as the others had when you were struck down and his heart stopped beating just like theirs did.

He was just starting to really get to know you. He was just starting to understand why you had everyone wrapped around your finger.

And now you were leaving them? 

As everyone broke down around him, the strong and stoic archangel began to break down as well, feeling the pain of everyone else and his own pain of losing a friend.

He had come to the Devildom to fight alongside everyone else because he didn’t want anyone to die.

But he never believed he would feel so strongly about losing you.

There had to be something he could do.

*

Thirteen didn’t make friends.

And yet the people surrounding her were the closest she had ever come to caring. The closest she had ever come to having friends.

And you were the reason. You were so kind and accepting of her. You were so inclusive and you made her want to be there.

You had brought her into the group and now that you were gone, Thirteen felt the pain of what it meant to have people you cared about. 

Part of her wanted to cry and fall apart like everyone else was. 

But, she had a job to do. She was a reaper and you were dead. 

She hated the idea of it. She wished she didn’t have to do it.

She wished you weren’t gone.

*

Thirteen took a few steps forward to do her job when she felt a strong hand wrap around her wrist.

She turned to see who it was and saw that it was Solomon. He kept his hand in place as he looked at her through his tears, giving her a stern look.

Solomon was the first one she had met, and seeing him so broken sparked sympathy she didn’t know she had.

“You’re not reaping their soul,” Solomon stated, his eyes locked with hers.

“Solomon,” Thirteen tried to argued, but he cut her off.

“You’re not reaping their soul,” he repeated, not backing down.

The others watched the intense stare between the two as the thought of Thirteen reaping your soul only made them sadder.

Thirteen was trying to be nice because she knew how much Solomon cared for you - how much everyone cared for you. But it needed to happen.

“Solomon is right,” Barbatos said, stepping closer to your body, his heartbreaking all over again when he looked at you once more.

Thirteen let out a small sigh, ready to argue her point when she saw the look in Barbatos’ eyes.

He was done playing safe with his powers. He didn’t care what the consequences were. He just knew he needed you. 

They all needed you.

“What are you doing?” Lucifer asked, taking a step forward.

“I’m restarting the timeline,” Barbatos replied. It wasn’t a suggestion - it was a statement.

You had done it so many times to save them and now he was going to do it to save you.

He didn’t care what anyone else’s opinion on the matter was. Though everyone was in agreeance.

This was the way to save you. This was the way to bring you back to them.

They didn’t care if they were stuck in an endless time loop as long as you were there with them.

This time they would have their memories. This time they would make a plan to prevent this war from even happening. 

Barbatos restarted the timeline without a second thought and as their surroundings began to change, your corpse was the last thing to fade from view.

And when things stabilized they realized that they were in the Assembly Hall with a human standing in front of them.

They wanted to run to you. They wanted to hold you in their arms and never let you go.

The smiles they got when they saw you would have melted your heart - if you knew who they were.

“Where am I?” you asked, looking scared and confused. 

It hurt to hold so much love for you and have you not reciprocate an ounce of it. But they knew you had been through this so many times with them and you never gave up. And they wouldn’t either.

They would fall in love with you a hundred times over and make you fall in love with them a hundred times over.

They didn’t care how long it took or how many times they had to relive the same memories. 

You were their human. You were the one they loved. You were everything they needed.

And that would never change whether it be this timeline, the next, or a hundred timelines from now.

[minced-mangoes]

I don't care what you think Lucifer is a bottom in my heart no I won't explain it just feels right. This is just a random headcanon to start this post.

Lucifer isn't super cuddly, but he does quite enjoy letting you snuggle up to his wings. Especially at night when you're asleep in bed, Lucifer will lay a wing over you, just so he knows you're still there. That you're safe and warm.

He takes pride in it, that he's protecting you, that no one would dare lay a hand on you with him there, shielding you, even at their most vulnerable point of sleep.

Also I personally think Lucifer sleeps on his stomach. It started as an angel, three wings makes it hard to lay on your back, and now that he's missing a pair of wings (and is probably severely scarred in that area) sleeping on his stomach is much more comfortable. The pain of the scars, plus waking up with his wings slept on weirdly, just isn't nice.

Of course if he isn't in his demon form, the wing thing is null, but I think the pain in his back just keeps him on his side or stomach. If he isn't in demon form when sleeping next to you, he will wrap an arm around you. Still taking comfort in knowing you're there with him. Of course this makes waking up in the night a bit difficult, as you don't want to wake this poor overworked man at 3 in the morning so you can go use the washroom, but he won't hold it against you if you do.

Now, if you get up to eat he'll be a bit upset. "Why didn't you eat enough at dinner? That isn't healthy. Living with Beel should have taught you to know not to skip meals." Of course all his nagging is from a warm part of his heart. He just wants the best for you. His idea of what's right with you, and what is actually right for you might be a bit different, however.

Tell him that. He feels proud when you stand up to him. Of course his human, the one he chose to make a pact with, out of the many who have begged him, would be bold, and tell him off when he's wrong.

~~~ Hee-hee hoo-hoo thanks for reading,,, as always I encourage interaction, especially asks. I will dump my headcanons on you. I also accept oneshot requests, though those take me a while to write, as I'm a slow writer. ( I started drafting this post on the 12th)

Funny note, at first I was scared of Lucifer, then I disliked him, then I realized he was actually pathetic and suddenly became a big fan.

Tomi Out!