#they’re so close to their hatch time

[byjove]

my mom is soooo upset because she dropped and cracked one of her chicken’s eggs that she knew was fertilized. it’s her first time trying to hatch chicks and she was so excited. this was one of two eggs she’d seen moving while candling them. she feels so bad.

[4mrplumi]

01. spiderwocky ── 'spidey' bot

platonic | spiderverse x spiderman!reader x batfamily | ms. list

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤdisclaimers on masterlist!

index. prologue , chapter one , chapter two , chapter three ... to be continued. based on this

“there are more advisable ways to source materials, (name),” a robotic voice ushers in your ear, “i could run a route for the nearest hardware store, safe enough for you to reach”.

you wave her out of your head, murmuring around your breath as you examine the multimeter in your hand. “‘s alright, spidey… they won’t mind me borrowing.”

you’re cooped up behind a large cargo box in the batcave, looking for throwaway tools to use, hoping to be able to fix the sp//dr suit before returning to queens. you’ve known bruce’s tech since you first came around, piecing out the fact he was batman soon after. batman and his batplane, his batmobile, his batgrapple… hell, maybe even a batGPT? he won’t notice if you snatch a little something.

“they’re out, can’t be too bothered to roam out in gotham when there’s perfectly available gizmos here, can i?” you chew on a fruit candy you nicked from the kitchen earlier, it might be damian’s, you’re not sure, “won’t be back till… eleven, tops?”

sp//dr crawls down your arm, her metallic legs causing a pin-prickly sensation, and making you shiver. “rather still, (name), i do not like advocating for such behaviour. what would your father think of you stealing?”

you stiffen for a second, pressing your lips into a thin line. “yeah, what would he?” you manage to scoff, shutting the lid of the box you were scouring through. “run a scan on the tech in here, would you? maybe there’s a micro-comm i can slip out-”

a shooting sensation of anxiety fills you, and you’re suddenly skittering to the nearest wall, sp//dr following close in suit. the water-curtain in the batcave parts to make way for a jet, the engines whirring so, so quietly, you think you’re hallucinating it. 

the hatch starts to open, and sp//dr whispers at you to climb up the wall, hide in the dark before you can run off. batman and the littlest robin hop out, their conversation to far away to eavesdrop on… for a regular person.

you narrow your eyes at them. super-hearing isn’t something you’ve experimented with, but you know it’s there, recalling the way your ears nearly exploded the first time your spidey-sense kicked in. maybe if you really concentrate? you squint at them, and the quiet becomes clear.

“perhaps it’s an installment… such work has become very popular as of late.” the little robin says, crossing his arms as batman types away on the long, long keyboard at his computer. “i doubt it,” he replies, his voice always sounds like gravel being rubbed against cement when he puts that cowl on, you think, “witnesses say it ‘showed up out of nowhere’, and the footage glitches out before the structure came in.” the screen in front of them switches to a recording, in black and white, crunchy even with the computer’s high data compatibility. 

you don’t stick around, scampering up the wall to the shaft you came in through, quiet as a bug as you stalk out from behind the grandfather clock that decorates the opening. the batman can figure out weird happenings in his city, you just need to be capable enough to help yours.

spider crawls onto your wrist, her metal parts rearranging themselves to turn into a bracelet. her voice hums out from a little blue dot on it, forever monotone. “please now, (name), return to your room without detection, fixing the suit can wait for tomorrow.”

you can’t help but smile a little at her instruction, slipping your new tools into the pockets of your jacket. “maybe it can,” you mutter back, under your breath, swiftly making distance from bruce’s office after you leave it, “but it’s not going to, is it?”

(name), duke notes glancing at the kid, who seems thoroughly submerged in schoolwork at the dining table, is more quiet that he’s accustomed to.

now- that’s not to say he’s used to (name) at all, having barely spoken to them last year, and missing them the year before that when they went off on some trip over the summer.

but it had been impossible to ignore the atmosphere of supreme awkwardness that followed the kid like a ghost, when they shifted on their heels, wanting to ask dick if they could hang out, or tim if he could look at some “cool question” they got as homework. now, that awkwardness had just been replaced with something… quiet. something still, and simpler. it was a drastic change, making him purse his lips into a thin line each time he saw them run back to their room the second everyone got back home from patrol. 

he wants to ask if anything's wrong, but… how? what would he even say? duke isn’t close to (name) at all, and it’s not like anyone else is either. heck, he’s barely even seen the kid. the house is decorated with pictures, relics from everyone (but... you) that bruce keeps up. in comparison, you drop in to the manor for a few months, haunting the place, before leaving just as quickly as you came. he didn’t even time to acknowledge you existed the first time he met you, too tired from patrol to be able to entertain any of your questions. wouldn’t it be weird to just… bluntly ask what in the world’s wrong with them, when he doesn’t know what’s supposed to be right?

duke looks away sheepishly when (name) glances back, seemingly aware of his staring. he’ll ask, he will. he just needs to figure out how… and when. when tim creeps into the living room, still in his suit, (name) crawls away up the stairs without acknowledging him, quiet as a bug. before… everyone just chose to excuse the noise (name) made. 

tim turns his head to where duke’s looking, the space now empty, and shrugs in dismissal. (name)’s not sitting there anymore.

you haven’t blinked in ten minutes, the thought drifting idly at the back of your head. you’re camped out in the dingy stairwell of some building, sp//dr’s little inbuilt projector painting a slideshow on the wall in front of you. her voice buzzes out from microscopic speakers.

“everything i could compile in the given time,” she speaks, “the information was protected quite fiercely… barely existed at all.” 

“so- what? like this doesn’t have a lot of notes or something?” you ask, scribbling down the words you see onto sticky notes, pasting them on the pages in your journal. sp//dr pings in acknowledgement on your wrist, switching to the next slide.

the batwing suit, one of the most high tech wearables you’ve ever had the opportunity to look at. call it inspiration, you’d murmured to sp//dr when she inquired about why you wanted the files on it, it’d be both a development in your knowledge and good for the sp//dr suit.

really, it was. the interior skin had similar properties to the hypothesized “nanotechnology” a guy at school had talked about, and the extra features would have genuinely enamored any mecha-geek.

your notes were simple. the “system” acted similar to sp//dr, and she already had a compartment in your suit, so it wouldn’t be too important. gyroscopic assist… that’d be interesting. most of your time’s spent swinging around, and the motion control on your suit is pretty good already, consider it an upgrade?

what’s most interesting about the suit is the toxikinesis, and energy negation. now, so to speak, you’re aware of the batman’s cautions against metas. apart from the signal, you’re not too well aware of anyone with any kind of powers in gotham (apart from yourself right now).

but hell, releasing poison mist? nullifying energy? that’s got to be cheating! even with all the other things the illustrious spiderman can do, it’s too cool of a thing to let up. before having to move into the manor with bruce wayne and his entourage of coloured birds, you’d lived with your father’s files taking up all the room on his desk, leaving only the stuffed drawers for the pictures you made for him. 

he’d been illustrious in his own right, taking out the little time he had to spend time with you. but not really be with you. still, in his interest, you took to technology too, tinkering with little robot kits your father’s friends gifted you. and it stuck. even after you were pulled out of school one day, the teacher’s expression looking unfathomably sad. the remorseful hunch of the officer’s back who’d eased you into telling you about your father’s accident was the only thing you looked at, your little kiddish throat feeling dry. 

it had stuck with you after you were put into bruce wayne’s house, as per your late mother’s wishes. it stuck with you after you were sent away from the manor to boarding school for most of the year. it stuck with you even after the sharp pinch of the spider that bit you a few months ago, changing the trajectory of your life in a way you couldn’t complain about.

in the midst of your “studies”, you hear a doom slam, and shouting ensue. in regular gotham fashion, it’s vulgar, filthy and loud. spiderman responds to conflict with fight. (name) prefers flight. you shove everything into your bag, scuttling down the steps as the shouting gets louder, something about hogging the elevator before it starts making your head feel hot and dizzy from anxiety.

the suit’s going to need work. the batwing suit’s fairly slimmer than your bulky mecha, making the components proportionate would take time.

maybe you could ask… no, he’d be too busy anyway. your tongue feels like lead when you lie to sp//dr. she asks; “what are you thinking about?”, you say, “a lot of things.”. you're not thinking of anything at all.

in your silence, sp//dr’s monotonous company is like a soothing balm. so soothing in fact, you don't see a stray sticky-note glitch in red and blue, and then; disappear entirely.

₊˚⊹ a/n : was this bit kind of a nothingburger... maybe. next entry sometime soon,, we'll get to see the society there. thanks for reading!!

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[soapcloth]

CW: ghost/referenced ghoap x reader, slight angst, possessive behaviour - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

Being the one to pick up Soap’s wardrobe from a secondhand store— the donation so fresh that the scent hadn’t even had the chance to fade and mingle with the rest of the shop. You’re wearing a dead man’s hoodie and you haven’t got the faintest clue.

You like his overbearingly rugged smell; find yourself lifting up the collar to inhale and wonder what the person who donated it is like. The hoodie is emblazoned with a name— maybe he’ll see you on the street one day in his old clothes and use it as an ice breaker. The thought is nice. You don’t even know.

Soap was a man who liked personlized items; a taste for things that were one of a kind— just like him. Everything he touched had been marked by a man living a full life and was wholly unmistakable to the discerning eye of the shadow who knew him inside out.

So why was ghost, absolutely swamped in grief, forced to see an interloper wearing his boy’s clothes? He just wanted a fucking coffee.

Johnny’s official family funeral had been no more than a month ago and there was already a stranger wearing his stuff. If ghost had the privilege to grab that box of Johnny’s items and run, it would be neatly tucked away in his closet, silently cherished. Not hanging off the frame of some random civilian who could never even begin to fathom the depths of a man like John MacTavish.

It must’ve been the world playing a sick joke on him that you, who didn’t even know the man, would be able to collect Johnny’s stuff before him. Never allowed anything.

Suffice to say, he’s pissed when he spots you. Stands a bit too close to you so Johnny’s scent can catch in his nose. You’re clearly nervous, but manage to smile hopefully when he makes an offhanded comment about liking the garment. You probably think they’re his clothes, don’t you?

Well, for all intents and purposes, they are.

You ask if he’s ‘MacTavish’ and something in him wants to scream at you that the world hated him far too much for that to ever happen— instead he just nods, leering at how happy that makes you. He can’t tell if your response lights up his brain because he wants to bite your head clean off— or because somewhere, deep inside him, seeing someone so excited about ‘finding’ Johnny is nice.

He hatches a plan. Knead away at your apprehension towards his intimidating appearance, bag a quick fuck— god knows he needs one, grab the clothes, and disappear from your life with Johnny’s items finally where they belong. It’s perfect.

Well, it’s perfect until an unavoidable, nagging voice starts to rattle around in the back of his skull that Johnny would have been absolutely smitten with you. You might have been one last parting gift sent from his boy, how could he ever turn that down? The thought of fucking you in Johnny’s clothes, being able to nudge his crooked nose into the fabric and chase the scent that’s starting to entangle with your own— it sends him reeling

Johnny would be so pleased if the scent of their sweet lamb caught. Can vividly picture him absolutely beaming while huffing at the clothes before urging ghost to take a sniff for himself.

He latches onto the notion that maybe, just maybe he could tuck you and the clothes away somewhere safe for his eyes only— teeth already sunken deeper into you than he could ever possibly imagine by the point he finally acknowledges the gnawing revelation.

Johnny would want this for the both of you. This time he’d keep you safe.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

lilia dorm uniform vignettes + book 7 parallels

I was rereading Lilia's Dorm Uniform vignettes recently and honed in on the third part, which reminded me a lot of the events of book 7. I think it's highly likely that part 3 here foreshadows book 7, similar to how Ortho's Precision Gear vignettes foreshadowed the original Ortho's passing, revealed in book 6.

***Lilia Dorm Uniform vignette(s) and Book 7 spoilers!***

Quick recap, these vignettes focus on Lilia looking after a baby bat with an injury. The third and final part involves Malleus chatting with him about the experience. Lilia describes parenting as thus: "There's never a guarantee in life that someone will be there to support you. Once you fly out into the world, there may be days when you go without a proper meal and sleep on an empty stomach. You'll experience failures and setbacks. You may have days where your heart feels like it'll shatter into a thousand pieces. As long as you're alive, there will be moments—many moments, in fact—when you must face adversity entirely on your own. A parent must ensure their child can handle such harshness while the little one is still under their protection."

Knowing what we know now... It sounds as though Lilia is reflecting back on his time traveling the world in hopes of finding a way to hatch Malleus from the egg. Firstly, Lilia (especially in the past) has expressed sentiments about being alone. He was an orphan taken in as a ward by the Draconias, yet he still never felt as though he "fit", not with the way the senate treats him like a lesser being, and not with his two best friends (Maleanor and Raverne) marrying and conceiving a child--starting a family, something Lilia feels he does not have and cannot have himself. There's never a guarantee in life that someone will be there to support you. And that's true of Malleus as well. His father is missing and presumed dead, his mother died in a battle to ensure his safety, and his grandmother is kept busy with royal duties to be there for him all the time. That's why Lilia had to step up as his father figure--because otherwise Malleus would have no guidance, just like Lilia did in his youth, which led him into becoming closed off and unwilling to learn about the world beyond Briarland. He doesn't want Malleus--or any of his "kids"--to perpetuate the hatred and distrust that claimed so many lives and left scars on the survivors.

Once you fly out into the world, there may be days when you go without a proper meal and sleep on an empty stomach. This line is reflective of the experiences Lilia had on his travels. In the beginning, it was particularly difficult due to the prevailing anti-fae sentiments among humans. Lilia was not welcome in their communities; he'd have things and nasty words thrown at him and literally be chased out of towns. True, he's also had to deal with rations and always being alert while serving as a general, but it feels particularly frustrating in this context because 1) none of his men are around to support him in these moments; he is lacking the feeling of being a part of a group, and 2) the harsh treatment is being committed by a group for which he cannot retaliate, so it forces Lilia to stand there and just take it... Both conditions which are also true of Lilia when he is able to safely bring Malleus's egg to Castle Blackscale. The senate gang up on him, isolate him, and deem him unworthy of touching the heir... and Lilia can't do anything about it. He isn't accepted at home and he isn't accepted by the world. This makes it that much more meaningful when, later on his travels, he meets an elderly couple in Harveston that welcome him into their house and home. They offer him a warm bed, food, and, more importantly, they are his company. They want to hear his stories, learn more about him and his life experiences. They’re that light at the end of his tunnel--but those things aren't promised to him, and Lilia knows he can't count on them all the time, especially as he travels to the most remote regions. And don't we all fear that dreadful realization of being out on our own with no net to catch us if we fall?

You'll experience failures and setbacks. You may have days where your heart feels like it'll shatter into a thousand pieces. As long as you're alive, there will be moments—many moments, in fact—when you must face adversity entirely on your own. Again, Lilia is also speaking about himself. He was forced to abandon his princess and flee with her child. He lost his best friends and large sections of his home country to a bloody conflict. He took the senate's verbal abuse and degradation. All of this, he faced alone--even when Baur tries to stand up for him, Lilia silences his ally because, deep in his heart, he thinks he deserves this. The wild bat incapable of love, only able to slaughter, doomed to be alone forever. It's through his forced exposure to the world that Lilia learns to open up, and it's through the connections--after enduring so many hardships, so many trials and tribulations--he makes with others that he comes to learn he is capable of love. As Silver says, this must be why the happiest moment of his father's life is the moment of Malleus hatching. A dragon's egg can only do so with the love of a parent--and Lilia has always been that for him. Diasomnia is Lilia's new family, and he's no longer alone. The problem now is that it's Malleus's turn to learn harsh life lessons, and he isn't exactly prepared for them. A parent must ensure their child can handle such harshness while the little one is still under their protection. I think this line perfectly summarizes Lilia's motivations for leaving in the fashion that he does. When Lilia attempted to depart NRC without so much as a formal farewell to Malleus and Silver, many fans were confused as to why he was acting so callous towards his children. Some theorized that Lilia was lying about losing his magic or had some other ulterior motive for lying--when, really, I think the answer is much simpler than that. Lilia wanted to leave as soon as he could, without facing his kids, because that's just in his nature. As Malleus points out in the vignettes: "Is that why you took the approach you did? [...] I suspect this bat will thrive in the wild." This entire time, Lilia hasn't been the gentlest or the most prudent with the baby bat. He fed it milk from a cup instead of a bottle (which resulted in getting the bat all wet), roughly toweled it off, allowed it to hang in a tree when it may not be ready to fly yet, brushed off the possibility of it being hurt again if it falls out, etc. On a surface-level, it looks like bad caretaking. But Malleus wonders if it's intentional. Because the bat was put through those experiences, it can take care of itself once it has parted from Lilia's care. I suspect Lilia may think the same of how he raises his own children. After all, Silver and Sebek sometimes bring up how hellish Lilia's training sessions with them were. Some of his bad childcare is due to Lilia being disorganized and just winging it in the moment, yeah (something which Malleus comments on at the end of the vignettes)--but a lot of how he raises others is also built on the idea that this should make the kids stronger and able to stand on their own.

When Lilia goes to return the baby bat to its flock, he says, "Go on, little one. You can't cling to my hand forever. Get flying." Then Malleus laughs and remarks, "Heh, it seems rather attached to you. It doesn't want to let go." Lilia continues with, "I'm shaking my arm and it's still not letting go... Goodness gracious. I didn't raise [the baby bat] to be so clingy. There comes a time in every creature's life when they have to take action. This is your time, little one. Don't miss your window." And, at last, when the bat is able to take off, Malleus realizes, "[...] I must say, it was rather harsh of you to forcibly shake off the poor fellow when it clearly liked you. Did you intentionally act detached so that it wouldn't fall too far behind the colony?"

THIS WHOLE SCENE IS AN ANALOGY TO LILIA TRYING TO LEAVE NRC WITHOUT SAYING GOODBYE TO HIS KIDS.

In this analogy, Malleus is that bat that Lilia has reared--and when it comes time for Lilia to leave, Malleus won't allow for it. Malleus is the clingy baby bat gripping onto his caretaker for dear life. I wonder if Lilia knew that his prince would have a hard time with it, so he tries to have one last happy send-off--so he can grant Malleus the happiness of being invited to something, to be included, and to provide him ample opportunities to socialize with his peers from all the dorms and make other connections so they can be there for him when Lilia is no longer able to. Then Malleus was late, and the time for Lilia to depart has already arrived. But maybe it's better this way, Lilia may have reasoned with himself. If Malleus doesn't appear, maybe he can't be hurt. If Lilia acts detached, maybe... just maybe... it will give Malleus the final shove he needs to let him go, to open up to the people who are going to be present around him, so he won't "fall too far behind the colony", like what happened with the actual baby bat he raised. This is especially suspect because Lilia makes the same plea to the first years earlier in the party by asking them to please give Sebek a lil' push if he ever needs it. "Just... If you notice [Sebek is] ever stuck at some point during your time here... I would ask that you card soldiers give him a little nudge."

THE LILIA DORM UNIFORM CARD FIRST CAME OUT ON THE JP SERVER IN FEB 2023 ALONG WITH SOME EARLY BOOK 7 UPDATES 😩 It’s such good foreshadowing for what happens much later in the same book… OTL I just hope that Malleus is able to learn the lessons Lilia wants him to. Then Malleus can finally be the baby bat that’s able to take flight on his own and join a flock without his guardian at his side forever and ever…

[gyu-tori]

The Great Valentine Heist | C.BG

A PRE-VALENTINE'S DAY SPECIAL

Pairing: highschooler!beomgyu x fem!reader Genre: FLUFF and Comedy

Summary: On Valentine’s Day, Beomgyu hatches a plan to steal a box of chocolates from your locker, sparked by a bit of jealousy. But as his scheme unravels in a whirlwind of chaotic mishaps, including a mix-up with the chocolates and a series of awkward excuses, he’s forced to come clean about his true intentions.

What started as a silly heist ends up revealing more than he bargained for—perhaps even something sweet that wasn’t part of the plan.

Word count: 5.2k

It was the usual chaos at the school courtyard, buzzing with the energy of Valentine’s Day. Students scurried around, exchanging chocolates, roses, and sweet nothings like their lives depended on it. The air was thick with the scent of flowers and the frantic clatter of school bags as the students walked by, some wearing bright smiles, others clinging to their best friends, desperately trying to hide their nerves and uncertainty about whether they would receive anything in return.

Among them, you sat quietly on one of the benches near the school garden, staring blankly at the half-eaten sandwich in your hands. Valentine’s Day wasn’t really your thing. It wasn’t that you hated the holiday; you just didn’t see the point in putting too much stock in it. Besides, you were more than content to go about your day as usual—until Beomgyu showed up, of course.

You were midway through taking a bite when Beomgyu suddenly slid into the seat next to you, all wide eyes and the kind of grin that made it clear he was plotting something. You barely had a chance to glance up before he was already leaning in, getting way too close for comfort, his head tilting as if he were studying you like you were some kind of rare specimen.

“So,” Beomgyu began, his voice light, teasing, “did you get any chocolates today?” He raised an eyebrow as if daring you to answer. “Or are you still too intimidating for anyone to dare?”

You glanced at him from over the edge of your sandwich, the same exasperated look that you always wore when he popped up. You swallowed your food with the grace of someone who had long grown used to Beomgyu’s antics, before responding with a deadpan expression. “Sure, Gyu. I’m just so terrifying that no one’s brave enough to offer me any. That must be it.”

Beomgyu chuckled, shaking his head, the playful gleam in his eyes only sharpening. He leaned back in his seat, arms folded over his chest, and gave you an exaggerated once-over. “Yeah, right. I bet they’re all too scared to talk to you. It’s not like anyone would want to give chocolates to someone as intimidating as you.”

You rolled your eyes again, suppressing the urge to sigh. “If only you knew how much of a relief that is,” you muttered, looking out at the students milling about, most of them caught up in their own holiday dramas. “I’d rather not deal with all the clichés and awkward exchanges.”

“You’re just bitter ‘cause no one gave you any chocolates,” Beomgyu teased, nudging you with his elbow. His tone was mocking, but you could tell there was an underlying hint of something else, something more familiar to you now—an odd mixture of jealousy and competitiveness.

“Sure, that’s exactly it,” you deadpanned, though you couldn’t suppress the ghost of a smirk. “Because I’m so desperate for chocolates, I just can’t stand it.” You leaned back on the bench, unbothered. “Maybe you should try a little harder next time. You know, if you really want to get in the Valentine’s spirit.”

Beomgyu pouted dramatically, a mock-sad expression overtaking his usual cocky grin. “Oh, I try. Trust me. But you don’t know how hard it is when everyone around you is just too blind to see my charm.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. “Right. You’re ‘charming,’ all right.”

Before you could continue the banter, you heard a familiar sigh next to you. Soobin had appeared, his presence immediately making the air feel a little less chaotic. The subtle tension in the air shifted, as if everything in the world was a little more put-together when Soobin was around. He leaned casually against the bench, shaking his head as he looked from Beomgyu to you.

“You’re really doing this again, huh?” Soobin’s voice was laced with fond exasperation, his arms crossing in a way that made it clear he’d heard this exact conversation countless times before.

“Oh, come on, Bin,” Beomgyu grinned, clearly enjoying the attention. “It’s Valentine’s Day. People should know better than to try to resist my charm.” He struck a ridiculous pose, complete with finger guns aimed at an imaginary crowd. “I’m the perfect Valentine’s package.”

Soobin sighed again, a long and deeply audible sigh that seemed to come from the very core of his being. “If only the rest of the school agreed with you.”

“Right? They just don’t understand what they’re missing,” Beomgyu whined dramatically, tilting his head back and pretending to stare at the sky in pure anguish. “It’s so unfair. I’m charming, I’m funny, I have looks, and yet here I am, still single. What more do they want?”

“So, what’s your plan for today then?” Soobin asked, clearly not caring to entertain Beomgyu’s long-winded monologue on how society had failed to recognize his greatness. “You just gonna keep complaining, or are you gonna do something about it?”

“I’ve got a plan,” Beomgyu said, with all the certainty of someone who had no idea what he was about to get himself into. “You’ll see.”

You could feel the familiar sense of dread settle into your chest. Beomgyu’s ‘plans’ were always a disaster waiting to happen, and you had no desire to be dragged into whatever he had in mind. In fact, you were far too busy for his antics. You were preparing a small surprise of your own—a box of chocolates you had carefully made for someone special. It wasn’t much, but it felt meaningful. However, you couldn’t help but doubt that this person would actually accept your gesture. You knew better than to expect much from them.

Before you could lose yourself in your thoughts, Minjeong waved from across the courtyard. You waved back and made your way over to her, your mind still lingering on the chocolates.

“So,” Minjeong said as she joined you, her voice light with curiosity, “how’s the Valentine’s Day prep going?”

You smiled faintly, feeling a small flutter in your chest. “Nothing too big. I’ve got some chocolates ready. For someone special.” You didn’t offer more, letting the words hang in the air. You didn’t need to explain more. Minjeong understood.

Beomgyu, of course, overheard your mention of chocolates, and his eyes immediately lit up like a kid in a candy store. You didn’t need to see him to know he was already planning something. You heard him lean closer to Soobin, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

“You’re telling me,” Beomgyu began, practically purring with excitement, “that (Y/N) has chocolates for someone special? This is too good to ignore.” He suddenly sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing with a gleam of mischief. “I think it’s time for... The Great Valentine Heist.”

Soobin’s expression darkened instantly. “The Great Valentine Heist?” he repeated, a note of dread in his voice. “That sounds like it’s going to end in disaster.”

Beomgyu’s grin only widened. “Oh, come on. What’s the worst that could happen?” he said with an exaggerated shrug, the air of a man who thought he had everything under control. “I’m just ‘borrowing’ Y/N’s chocolates for a little while. They’ll never even know.”

Soobin shook his head slowly, as if mentally preparing himself for the inevitable fallout. “This is a terrible idea,” he muttered, though it was clear his protests would go ignored. “You never learn.”

Beomgyu just laughed, all too confident. “Have a little faith in me. When have my plans ever gone wrong?”

Soobin, without missing a beat, began counting on his fingers. “Let’s see... You almost set fire to the science lab during last year’s prank. You sent an entire class’s worth of flowers to the wrong room last month, and don’t even get me started on the dance debacle with the sprinklers.” Soobin shook his head, his voice tinged with a touch of disbelief. “You think this is going to work?”

“Don’t worry, Bin,” Beomgyu called over his shoulder. “It’s The Great Valentine Heist—how could it possibly go wrong?”

Soobin just sighed, resigned to the fact that this would, without a doubt, end terribly.

The day had arrived for Beomgyu’s most ambitious plan yet: The Great Valentine Heist. He was buzzing with excitement, practically bouncing on his heels as he caught sight of Soobin leaning against the lockers, a sigh already escaping his lips.

"Soobin!" Beomgyu called out, his voice filled with that over-the-top enthusiasm he reserved for his most ridiculous schemes. "I need you to help me with something huge today."

Soobin's eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable but full of dread. “What now, Gyu? This can’t possibly be anything good.”

“Relax!” Beomgyu waved his hand dismissively. “This is going to be a piece of cake. Just a little heist I’m planning, that’s all.”

Soobin sighed again, already feeling the weight of Beomgyu's plans crashing down on him. “And what exactly am I supposed to do this time?”

“I need you to be my distraction ninja,” Beomgyu said, leaning in dramatically as if unveiling some grand strategy.

Soobin blinked. “A what?”

“A distraction ninja!” Beomgyu repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re going to cause a scene so ridiculous that everyone’s attention will be completely taken off me. I’ll slip in, grab the chocolates, and be out of there before anyone knows what happened.”

Soobin let out a tired groan. “And you want me to do this because… why?”

Beomgyu grinned. “Because, my friend, I need someone who can make the whole school stop and stare. Something loud. Something no one can ignore.”

Soobin raised an eyebrow. “Like, sneeze on purpose?”

“Exactly!” Beomgyu said, clapping his hands together. “Go big or go home!”

“I’m going to regret this,” Soobin muttered under his breath, but he knew there was no getting out of it now.

The plan was set. Beomgyu’s eyes were gleaming with confidence as he prepared to execute what was sure to be a disaster in the making.

As you stood by your locker, carefully sorting through your things, you were completely oblivious to the chaotic scene unfolding around you. But then, you heard it: an over-the-top sneeze that echoed down the hallway.

“ACHOO!”

The sound was exaggerated, like a performance, followed by loud, drawn-out coughing. You paused, your eyes darting toward the sound just in time to see Soobin stumbling into view. His face was contorted into a mock expression of agony, his body lurching as if he were about to collapse any second.

You groaned inwardly but couldn’t help watching as Soobin dramatically lurched forward, clutching his chest. “I’m... dying,” he muttered between over-the-top coughs, his voice rising to an almost theatrical pitch.

You crossed your arms, leaning against your locker with a slight smile tugging at your lips. Soobin’s antics were ridiculous, and yet, you found it hard to ignore. You shook your head, muttering to yourself, “Is this really what he’s come to?”

Meanwhile, Beomgyu had already started his approach. The commotion from Soobin’s dramatic performance had everyone’s attention on him, and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

As Soobin continued to act out his fake illness, Beomgyu darted toward your locker with the same sneaky air of someone trying to pull off an elaborate heist. His fingers trembled with anticipation as he fumbled with your locker combination. The adrenaline surged in his veins—he had to hurry before the distraction wore off.

But the lock wouldn’t budge.

His hands fumbled with the combination, his palms sweating. No—he couldn’t mess this up. He had to get the chocolates.

Just as he was about to give up, a student turned the corner and walked right toward him.

Panicking, Beomgyu froze. His mind raced as he thought of a way to cover his tracks. In a split second, he forced a smile, standing tall as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

“Oh, wow, these lockers sure are something,” Beomgyu said loudly, gesturing to the locker in front of him with exaggerated enthusiasm. “The craftsmanship on this model is amazing, don’t you think? You just have to appreciate a good locker.”

The student gave him a confused look but shrugged, continuing on their way, probably questioning Beomgyu’s sanity. Beomgyu let out a quiet sigh of relief before quickly returning to his mission.

After what felt like an eternity of fumbling, Beomgyu finally cracked the code and opened the locker. His eyes darted to the box inside, and he grinned. There it is.

As Soobin’s performance escalated, so did the crowd around him. You were still distracted, your attention fixed on Soobin’s exaggerated antics. Your attention had completely shifted from the contents of your locker to the chaos before you. Soobin was tripping over himself, flailing as if he were on the verge of falling apart.

Then, in a moment of pure absurdity, Soobin’s foot caught on the edge of the hallway’s floor tiles, sending him face-first toward the ground.

You gasped, rushing forward to check if he was okay. “Soobin!” you exclaimed, crouching beside him.

“Ugh... I’m fine...” he groaned, pulling himself up, though his face was now an unflattering shade of red from the sudden fall.

You shook your head, trying not to laugh as you helped him up. “Really, Soobin? You should’ve just sneezed like you were supposed to—”

But before you could finish, you noticed that the chaos around you had died down, and Beomgyu, now holding the box, was walking away.

You couldn’t help but give Soobin a look. “This is exactly why I stay away from you two. I can’t even focus on my own locker when you’re causing a scene like this.”

Soobin grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, totally not a scene, right?”

Meanwhile, Beomgyu, having gotten away with what he thought was a flawless heist, turned to Soobin with a triumphant grin.

“Hey, good acting, my guy. You really sold it out there.”

Soobin, still rubbing his nose from the fall, plastered a grin on his face. “Haha, totally was acting…”

Beomgyu paused, staring at Soobin for a moment. “Wait, what...?” His eyes narrowed as he noticed something that had escaped him before. "Dude, your nose is bleeding!"

Soobin’s grin faltered as he instinctively wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Oh... that’s not good, is it?” he muttered, his voice tinged with the realization that his “acting” might have been a little too realistic.

Beomgyu, now fully realizing that the situation was a bit more chaotic than he’d anticipated, gave a loud, exasperated groan. “You’re really going to make this difficult for me, aren’t you, Bin?”

The day was going fine until you caught sight of Beomgyu and Soobin acting weird—really weird. Beomgyu was standing with his hands awkwardly shoved into his pockets, his eyes darting from side to side as if trying to avoid looking too suspicious. Soobin, for his part, had his arms crossed, but his usual calm demeanor was noticeably absent. He kept glancing over at Beomgyu, who was clearly sweating bullets.

You raised an eyebrow as you walked toward them. “What’s going on with you two? You’re acting like you’ve just been caught red-handed.”

Beomgyu froze, his mouth opening and closing in a clear attempt to come up with a believable excuse. After a moment of awkward silence, he blurted, “Uh... locker security inspections. Yeah. You know, just making sure everyone’s lockers are secure. It’s, uh, an important job. Can’t leave it to anyone else, right?”

You stared at him for a second, clearly not buying it. You crossed your arms and gave him a pointed look. “Really? Locker security?”

Soobin smirked slightly but didn’t say anything, choosing to let Beomgyu sweat it out. You could already tell something was off.

“Uh-huh,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, whatever. I don’t have time to question your important work. Carry on.”

You left them to their questionable business, still not entirely convinced but deciding to let it slide for now. You turned around and headed to your next class.

Meanwhile, the chaos had only just begun.

Kai was standing in front of his locker, his brows furrowed in confusion as he sifted through his things. After a moment, he slammed the door shut with a frustrated grunt and started walking around the hallway, asking anyone who would listen.

“Has anyone seen my chocolates? I swear I left them right here. They’re nowhere to be found!” Kai’s voice rang out, drawing the attention of a few nearby students.

Beomgyu froze when he overheard the frantic questioning. His heart skipped a beat, and a cold sweat began to form on his forehead. He’d been so caught up in the heist that he hadn’t even realized his mistake.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Beomgyu muttered under his breath, panic starting to creep into his voice.

Soobin, who had been watching the whole thing unfold, couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Congratulations, my friend,” Soobin said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve officially upgraded from prankster to thief.”

Beomgyu shot him an exasperated look, his anxiety mounting. “I’m not a thief, Soobin! I was just—well, it wasn’t supposed to go this far…”

Soobin laughed louder, clearly enjoying Beomgyu’s misery. “Yeah, sure. Just borrowin’ them for a bit.”

“Shut up,” Beomgyu muttered, his mind racing for a way to fix this disaster. He had to get the chocolates back to Kai before anyone else found out.

Beomgyu and Soobin hastily came up with a plan to sneak the chocolates back into Kai’s locker, but, as expected, it didn’t go smoothly.

“Alright, we’ve got this,” Beomgyu said, his voice filled with forced confidence as they approached Kai’s locker. “We just have to slip them in when no one’s looking.”

Soobin rolled his eyes. “You sure about that? Because last time you ‘just had to slip something in,’ it didn’t exactly go according to plan.”

Beomgyu shot him a glare. “Not helping, Bin.”

They crouched near Kai’s locker, trying to look casual. Soobin slowly reached into his pocket to pull out the chocolates, but, in a comical turn of events, his fingers slipped, and the box went tumbling to the ground.

It hit the floor with a loud thud, bouncing once before it rolled straight toward the edge of the stairwell.

“Oh no,” Beomgyu groaned in horror. “Not again.”

Before Soobin could react, the box plummeted down the stairs, bouncing all the way to the bottom.

“I’ll go get it!” Beomgyu shouted, immediately bolting toward the stairs, his legs moving faster than his brain. He was halfway down before he realized what he was doing. Of course this would happen.

But just as Beomgyu reached the bottom of the stairs, he looked up to see a figure emerging from the hallway—Kai. Kai, who was still asking around about his missing chocolates, had somehow found his way to the same stairwell. Beomgyu’s heart raced in panic.

Trying to salvage the situation, Beomgyu immediately froze mid-run, twisting his body into an awkward, exaggerated pose. He spread his arms wide as if trying to demonstrate some kind of parkour move, landing with an overly dramatic flourish.

“Oh, hey, Kai! Just, uh, practicing some parkour,” Beomgyu said, his voice forced as he tried to act casual, even though his face was already beet red from the sheer awkwardness of it all.

Kai blinked, clearly thrown off by Beomgyu’s strange behavior, but after a brief pause, he gave a stiff nod. “Uh... alright, sure. Parkour… looks good, Beomgyu,” Kai said with a nervous laugh before quickly turning to walk away.

Beomgyu let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding, his body still in that awkward position. “Parkour...” he muttered to himself, still trying to act like he hadn’t just made a fool of himself.

Once he was sure Kai was gone, Beomgyu quickly snatched the box from the floor and stuffed it into the front of his hoodie, hoping no one would notice.

Just as Beomgyu was about to stand up, feeling a brief moment of relief, you appeared in front of him, your arms crossed and a confused look on your face.

“Beomgyu… Why do you look like a lumpy kangaroo?”

Beomgyu froze, his eyes wide in panic as you stared at him, clearly noticing the suspicious bulge in his hoodie.

“What? No!” Beomgyu stammered, trying to adjust his hoodie in a way that didn’t make it look even more suspicious. “It’s just, uh, I’m carrying some books... you know, heavy books.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “Uh-huh. Definitely looks like books.”

“Yep, books!” Beomgyu said with a nervous laugh, his hand awkwardly patting the bulge in his hoodie.

You tilted your head, still not buying his excuse. “Right. Well, I’ll leave you to it then, Kangaroo Beomgyu.”

With that, you walked away, leaving Beomgyu to stand there, cursing his luck. Soobin, watching the entire interaction from a distance, couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Smooth, Beomgyu. Real smooth,” Soobin called out, his voice full of mockery.

Beomgyu just groaned in defeat, mentally preparing for the rest of his disastrous day.

You had been keeping an eye on Beomgyu all day, watching him with increasing suspicion as he passed your locker with strange frequency. At first, you thought it was just a coincidence, but after the third time, you were certain something was off.

Beomgyu had been acting a little too... flustered. He kept glancing your way, and you caught him avoiding your gaze whenever you walked by. His usual carefree demeanor had been replaced by an almost comical nervous energy. It didn't take long for you to put two and two together: he was up to something.

You had no idea what that something was, but you were determined to find out.

By the time lunch ended, you had a plan. You'd wait until Beomgyu made his move, and when he did, you'd corner him. You just had to make sure you caught him in the act.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the lunch period, you spotted Beomgyu sneaking past your locker once again, his eyes darting around to make sure no one was watching. You knew it was now or never.

You quickly approached, stepping in front of him to block his path. Beomgyu froze, his eyes widening as he took an awkward step back.

“Beomgyu,” you said, crossing your arms, “What are you up to?”

Beomgyu looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights. “Uh—uh, nothing! Just heading to class!” he stammered, his voice higher than usual.

You raised an eyebrow, not buying it for a second. “Really? You’ve been acting weird all day. What’s going on?”

He looked around, his body stiffening as if preparing for an escape. “I... uh... I’m just... checking on something... very important. Locker security!” His eyes widened as though he was suddenly convinced this was a plausible excuse.

“Locker security?” You blinked. “Beomgyu, what do you mean by ‘locker security’?”

Beomgyu tried to laugh it off. “Yeah, you know! Just making sure no one’s... tampering with lockers, or... or stealing anything, you know? Like chocolates.”

You raised an eyebrow again, clearly unconvinced. “Chocolates? Beomgyu, do you honestly think I’m buying that?”

He flustered, his voice trembling. “I mean, uh... yeah! Locker safety is really important, okay? Especially for Valentine’s chocolates! They’re... uh... high-risk items!”

You squinted at him suspiciously. “And why does that sound like a terrible excuse?”

He opened his mouth, trying to come up with something better, but nothing came out. You had him cornered, and he knew it.

“Okay, okay! Fine, you caught me!” Beomgyu blurted, a little too loudly. “I... I may have borrowed someone’s chocolates. Just for a second! You know, to... uh, check them over, make sure they’re in perfect condition for delivery!”

You stared at him, your mind racing. “Wait... borrowed someone’s chocolates? Who?”

Beomgyu’s eyes darted nervously. “Uh... well, I thought it might be poisoned! I—uh—didn’t want the owner of the chocolates to get hurt, so I... I took them for a bit. You know, to make sure they were safe.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Poisoned?” You shook your head, not sure whether to be annoyed or impressed by the sheer absurdity of his excuse. “Really? You think someone is poisoning chocolates in a school locker?”

Beomgyu nodded earnestly, clearly trying to sell the lie. “Yeah! You can never be too careful with these things, right? I was just... looking out for the owner’s safety!”

Before you could respond, you noticed something—Beomgyu was holding a box of chocolates wrapped in dark red paper. You’d seen that box before. In fact, you knew whose it was.

Kai’s.

You stared at him, realization dawning. “That’s Kai’s chocolates,” you said slowly, your voice flat. “What are you doing with them?”

Beomgyu froze, his face pale. “Uh... Kai’s chocolates... I didn’t steal them, it wasn’t me! I... uh... I was just... returning them!”

You raised an eyebrow. “Returning them?”

“Yes! Exactly! I just thought... Well, uh, I was just being a good Samaritan!” Beomgyu smiled awkwardly, but his charm wasn’t working this time.

Just as you were about to respond, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for those!” Kai said, walking toward you with a confused expression. “Where did my chocolates go?”

You and Beomgyu both turned to look at him. Beomgyu looked like he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Kai! Hey, uh, these... these are yours?” Beomgyu asked weakly, trying to act nonchalant as he awkwardly held the box out to Kai.

“Yeah, those are mine,” Kai said, raising an eyebrow. “But... why do you have them?”

Beomgyu gulped. “I... I was just—uh... you know, checking them out! Making sure they’re... uh... still good? It’s a... safety measure!”

Kai glanced at you, clearly trying to piece everything together. “Okay, I’m not really following. Why do you have them, Beomgyu?”

Beomgyu’s face flushed red as he tried to come up with an excuse, but before he could speak, you interrupted. “Wait a second. I get it now. You’ve been after my chocolates the whole time, haven’t you?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened in shock. “What? No! I was just—”

“Admit it, Gyu,” you interrupted, your voice soft but firm. “You thought these were mine, and you took them because you didn’t want me giving them to someone else.”

Beomgyu froze. He opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. The guilt on his face was obvious.

You let out a deep sigh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Okay, okay, I admit it!” Beomgyu finally blurted, his voice frantic. “I took the chocolates because I didn’t want you to give them to anyone else, okay? I didn’t know how to tell you! I just—ugh, I didn’t want to see you giving them to someone else!”

Kai chuckled behind him. “Well, now this is getting interesting.”

You stood there, shocked by his confession. “Gyu... I made those chocolates for someone special,” you said softly, letting the words sink in.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened as the realization hit him. “Wait... what? Then... who...?”

You pulled a second box of chocolates from your bag, the real ones—the ones you’d made just for him—and held them out to him. “I made them for you, you dummy” you said softly.

For a moment, Beomgyu stood there, completely speechless. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. He stared at the box in your hand as though it might disappear any second.

“You made them for me?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You smiled, nodding. “Yeah. I figured you might need a little extra push to admit how you felt.”

Beomgyu’s eyes softened, and slowly, a wide grin spread across his face. “I... I can’t believe you’d do that for me.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Well, someone had to keep you on your toes.”

Beomgyu took the chocolates from you, his hands shaking slightly as he held them. “I... I don’t deserve these,” he muttered, almost to himself. “I just... made everything worse.”

You gave him a teasing grin. “It’s okay, Beomgyu. You were just a little jealous. But I’m glad you figured it out.”

He looked up at you, his usual confidence flickering back into his eyes, although there was still a hint of nervousness. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, still holding the chocolates. “Next time, I’ll just steal your heart instead.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hold back your smile. “Good luck with that, Beomgyu.”

“So,” Kai interrupted, leaning in with a smirk, “When’s the wedding?”

You shot him a glare, but inside, you couldn’t help the warmth that spread through you. Maybe this chaotic Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all.

After the chaos settled down and Beomgyu was left to deal with the teasing, Soobin and Kai found a quiet spot near the school courtyard, watching the scene unfold in front of them. Beomgyu, still holding the box of chocolates, was getting playfully scolded by you. He looked embarrassed but happy at the same time—quite the rare sight.

Soobin crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on Beomgyu. “Why do I let him talk me into these things?” he muttered, shaking his head.

Kai, who had been smirking the entire time, glanced at Soobin. “Because you secretly love it,” he teased, giving his friend a knowing look.

Soobin shot him a look of disbelief. “No. I just don’t want him to cause more damage.”

Kai chuckled, nodding in agreement as they both watched Beomgyu finally get a teasing shove from you. “Yeah, it’s probably the best you can do, trying to keep him out of trouble.”

The two of them exchanged a look, clearly rooting for you and Beomgyu to get together. Soobin sighed, but there was a subtle smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I swear, this guy never learns.”

“So,” Soobin continued, glancing over at Kai with curiosity, “Who are you giving those chocolates to?”

Kai raised an eyebrow, the mischievous glint never leaving his eyes. “Oh, no one,” he said casually. “I bought them for myself at the 7-Eleven in front of the school. They were on sale, so why not?”

Soobin stared at him, unamused. “Then why the hell were you looking for it like a mad man earlier?”

Kai shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “Hey! I’m not letting my money go to waste.”

Soobin shook his head, but a laugh escaped him anyway. “You're unbelievable.”

Kai just grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Hey, it’s all about the deals, my friend. Want some”

Soobin rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms, turning his attention back to Beomgyu. "I still can’t believe the two get along so well," he muttered. "The chaos is real."

Kai snickered, glancing over at Beomgyu again. "They’re a match made in disaster. Honestly, I’m just here for the drama.”

Soobin sighed again, but there was no hiding the amusement in his expression now. "I can’t believe I’m actually looking forward to seeing how this mess turns out."

Kai grinned even wider. "I think it’s about to get interesting."

And so, despite all the chaos, The Great Valentine Heist was, in its own twisted way, a success. Beomgyu got the chocolates he’d been after (well, sort of), you finally got to admit your feelings, and even Soobin and Kai found themselves oddly satisfied with the results. After all, what’s a little mayhem between friends? Maybe, just maybe, there was something sweet to be found in all the madness.

© all rights reserved ─ @gyu-tori 2025

Rei's Notes ✎: Surprise!! Here's a fic for you guys to enjoy to start of february~ This was supposed to be posted ON valentine's but decided against it to make space for the collab so you'll get it early. Celebrating the start of February. No angst today since this month is all about love and sweet stuff, so I'll spare your tears for once (maybe saving them for the collab). Luv y'all!!

Taglist: @yunverie @dawngyu @hueningstar @hhoneyhan @immelissaaa @lovingbeomgyudayone @xylatox @i-like-to-read-at-4am @imlonelydontsendhelp

[espinosaurusrexex]

Remember Me

WinterSoldier!BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader

summary: After a fight against the most notorious Hydra agent of all, Steve and you discover that your assumed diseased friend Bucky is still alive. Old wounds resurface as you are confronted with the grappling reality that you have lived vastly different lives for the past 70 years. Will he remember your shared history? And most importantly: does he still feel the same?

word count: 3.1k

a/n: Just a short piece that I managed to finish. I know it's not a lot, but I hope you enjoy anyway 💕

warnings: a bunch of fluff and angst, mentions of war, mentions of sexism, swearing, Bucky is really broken in this one, happy ending (:

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

“Proceed with caution, unidentified shooter on bridge. I repeat: unidentified shooter. It is not clear what the motive is. Take cover and shoot on sight.”

“Dispatch, this is Captain America - we’ll take it from here.”

“With all due respect, Cap, I will keep my men on site to keep your cover.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Least I can do for you, sir.”

“Stop chatting it up with the police and do your job, Rogers.”

“Alright, alright.”

You chuckled and turned to Tony. “How long are we out?”

“Three minutes, 46 seconds.” 

“You gonna survive that long, Stevie?”

“That guy’s got a good aim on him, gotta give him that.”

Muffled noises pushed through your earpiece before you stepped into the back of the Quinjet to gear up. 

“Can’t let him do anything. It’s one guy they’re fighting... one.”

“Yeah, one Hydra-trained assassin who’s apparently immortal and got more deaths on his record than Romanoff.”

You huffed as the meeting recollected in your mind. The Winter Soldier had been the newest pain in the Avenger’s asses ever since you discovered that Hydra was still operating in the shadows of S.H.I.E.L.D. 

“They’re just making a show out of everything, huh?” 

You strapped your gloves over your wrists and watched as Tony chuckled in the pilot seat. You and him had become good friends over the past few years. Ever since you and Steve had been discovered in the frozen airship of what you had thought to be your last mission about 70 years ago, you and Captain America had woken up in a vastly different world. One through which Howard’s son, Tony, gladly guided you. 

Both you and Steve were overwhelmed by the amount of changes the world had endured while you had soundly served your time as human popsicles, though Captain America seemed to struggle a little more with 21st-century technology and norms. 

It was fine, Steve had always been a little old-fashioned, even back in the day. You for one were delighted to learn about all the opportunities the world had to offer for women and other people who couldn’t have dreamed of any in the 40s. Because while Steve was celebrated for being the face of hope for the American people, you were still dodging snide comments doubting your place in the Army. And while you tried not to let anyone see the toll it took on you, it was the reason for enough nights you spent with Peggy sharing stories over a bottle of wine. 

You both decided the important men in your life should never find out. Though, of course, your not-so-secret didn’t stay hidden from Bucky for long. Which was one of the reasons you had jumped on that plane with Steve. Even when Bucky was already dead. Even when Steve was still oblivious. You constantly needed to prove yourself. But this one time, it had actually changed something – well, time had. 

You shook your head free of that thought and walked towards the cargo hatch. Tony had landed the Quinjet – it was go time. 

“Ready?”

“That guy won’t know what happened to him when we’re done with him.”

“Let’s rock his world, then,” Tony winked before his helmet closed and he flew out of the jet. You were close behind him, running the short distance from the ramp to the bridge from which you swung yourself off with a grappling hook. 

“What’s the status?”

“I’ve been shot.”

“I’ve got it, Bearcat check on Steve. He looks ridiculously helpless.”

“Roger that,” you sprinted towards the two fighting men on the street, as the Winter soldier threw Steve to the ground, his shield nowhere to be seen. 

“Okay, my turn.” You stepped in front of him, analyzing his movements, and dodging punches, trying to get some in yourself. 

“Oh come on, that’s not fair.” You huffed when he took a knife out of your leg holster and almost acrobatically threw it over your head just to graze your cheek with the blade. 

He had knocked off your guns at this point, leaving you with choking wire and some smaller daggers in your jacket. When he turned the right angle, you jumped his shoulders and locked your thighs around his neck, kicking the knife out of his hand and watching as he ripped your choking wire in half. Damn.

“Now, that’s not nice.” You threw the torn metal to the side as The winter soldier struggled to get you off him. A look to Steve told you he had a new plan, and with a short nod, you signaled your understanding to him. 

“But if you wanna be like that...” Steve threw you his shield and in a swift motion you managed to drag it over the soldier's head. He pushed his metal arm forward just in time, though your hit had already knocked the mask off his face. 

When the shield came down, you heard Steve’s footsteps halt next to you, the world going quiet. 

Your stomach churned when you watched blue eyes twitch between the dark smudges. Familiar and oh-so strange at the same time. 

“Bucky?” Steve stammered, and at the sound of his name, goosebumps rippled over your skin. 

The Winter Soldier’s look darkened before he reached for a gun. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

From then on, the day seemed like a blur. You remembered Sam knocking Bucky down and the lot of you flying back to the compound on standby. Steve was functioning a lot better than you were, considering the man you thought to be dead for over 70 years was currently handcuffed to a handrail on your jet. 

James “Bucky” fucking Barnes. Captain America’s best friend, founding member of the howling commandos, infamous war hero apparently turned assassin, and the man who stole your heart somewhere along the way. 

You dared a glance at the chained-up, unconscious brunette in the corner as Steve sat down next to you, a calming hand squeezing your shoulder. 

“Can I get you anything?”

You ignored him. “How are you not freaking out?” You whispered through glassy eyes instead. 

Steve’s expression softened when he pulled you into his chest, his other hand pressing your head further into him. His heart was hammering beneath his ribcage, his fingers cold to the touch. 

“I am. Just trying to be a captain.” His voice was strained when he mumbled into your hair. 

You just nodded in understanding, finding comfort in the fact you weren’t the only one feeling this way. 

❁ ❁ ❁

You watched him through the glass of the interrogation room with your arms crossed before your chest. Buck was sitting at the table, his head hung low, his dark hair falling in wet stands into his face. He didn’t move a muscle. For half an eternity, he stared at the table his wrists were chained to, almost statue-like. But when he finally looked up, you could see the confusion and nervousness in his ocean-blue eyes. 

They had given him time to recover, to shower, and feel like a human again. They forced him into normal clothes and offered him a bed to sleep. But it wasn’t enough. The man you were looking at was terrified and lost - exhausted and overwhelmed. 

Bucky visibly tensed when the door opened and Steve stepped into his sight. They spent the next hour reconstructing his past. Steve told him how he had ended up in the 21st century and by the end of their conversations, the tension was a lot less static.

“She’s alive,” Bucky stated and tore his eyes away from Steve to look at the one-way glass.

“She’s a tough one. Survived the crash without super soldier serum and came out of the ice just as unharmed as I did.” 

“What are the odds?” Bucky chuckled bitterly. “What are the fucking odds we all end up together again?” 

Steve only gifted his friend a sympathetic smile along with a squeeze to his shoulder. “Take it as a chance.”

“Feels like a punishment.” 

They were locking eyes and even though you were watching the interaction from the outside, you could feel the atmosphere turn somber. The men were staring at each other in silence for a while, though you knew there was an entire discussion happening in their eyes.

“Does she... does she want to see me?” Bucky’s voice was hesitant and broken. And you couldn’t help but somehow imagine a different question nestled in his words. 

You almost had to stop yourself from touching the glass with your hands, wanting to tell him that you were already seeing him - really seeing him. 

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Steve stood and with a last smile to Bucky, he exited the room. 

This was it. The door was open. The love of your life sitting only a few feet from it. Though it seemed like he was trapped inside another’s body. 

“I’ll give you some privacy,” Steve murmured as he stood in the doorway looking at you by the window. And you just nodded, trying to suppress your pulse rushing in your ears. 

“Thanks.” It was only a whisper. You weren’t used to your voice being this small. And Steve didn’t seem so either. He was looking at you with sad eyes, fists clenched by his sides. There was nothing he could do to make you feel better. Not this time. And he seemed to know so. With one last tight smile, he sent a short nod your way and then left. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky didn’t look at you when you finally built up the courage to step inside his room. He was much bigger than you remembered. Thick muscles adorned his arms and shoulders. Shaggy, longer hair fell from his head and over his scrunched brows. His left arm was entirely of metal, a red star reminding him who had taken claim to him several decades ago. 

If you hadn’t known, the man before you had almost no resemblance to the soldier you loved in 1941. He had been lean and full of life. He was broken now. And you were terrified someone had taken the very thing from him that would keep him from becoming himself again. 

Without a word you approached Bucky, cupped his hands with yours, and undid the restraints that tied him to the table. And this was the first time he looked at you. Really looked at you. Bucky’s piercing blue stare was full of awe and sorrow, a deep pain etched beneath the grey flecks within the vibrant color. 

You sat down beside him. 

“Hey.” Your voice was shaky, dragging a long silence in its wake that only made your heart beat faster. 

“Hello,” Bucky finally whispered, breaking the spell. His voice was a raw timbre, like a long-forgotten melody. And so much more tangible now that you weren’t listening to it through a speaker. 

But that was it. Neither of you spoke afterward. 

There was so much that could have been said, so much that could have been exchanged, known, explored about the other. And yet it didn’t feel like any of the words known to you were enough to break the static tension in the room. You were just looking at Bucky, scanning every part of his body like it was a flash card for the most important test of your life. 

So, here you were: With the opportunity of a lifetime right at your fingertips and the confidence of a kicked puppy settled deep in your wounded soul. The person you had known for the longest looked so timid as if he were looking at a stranger. Not that he had ever been shy about strangers back in the day. But this was different. This was strange and beautiful, and scary, and exciting. No book in the world held the answers as to what to do in this situation. 

And the solution was so easy: you just had to say something. So why didn’t your damn mouth open?

The speaker above your heads crackled and then Tony’s voice rang through the room. And for the first time in what felt like hours, a tiny bit of the weight on your shoulders lifted with it. “Bearcat, If you don’t open your mouth and put the guy out of his misery in 5 seconds, I’ll personally mediate this incredibly static confrontation.”

You rolled your eyes and then glared at the mirror, knowing full well Tony was watching you despite your asking him to leave. You mouthed a ‘shut it’ towards the glass and then turned in shock when a familiar voice rose from the silence.”

“Bearcat?”

You stared at Bucky with soft eyes. There was an innocence in the way he slowly guided this conversation - almost like he’d always had. It was an easy question, a nice entry to the heavier stuff that was bound to be discussed. 

And just as you began to explain, it dawned on you how much you had missed about each other. How differently your life could have been if it weren’t for the cruel turn of fate.

“When Steve and I were discovered, S.H.I.E.L.D. was our home for a long time. They tried to put us in apartments, even set us up with chaperones to guide us through the new century.” Bucky looked intrigued, even leaning forth as he listened intently. You wondered if he ever realized how much time had passed when he was the winter soldier... if anyone ever cared to tell him. “But it wasn’t until I met Natasha that I felt like I had arrived. She showed me so many things and trained with me until I became an agent here. Howard’s son came up with the nickname. He reminds me of him.” You smiled and shook your head “He’s a pain in my ass but a genius that can be genuinely helpful even though I don’t want to admit it at times. I haven’t grasped the explanation fully, but apparently, my fast learning and efficiency when it came to fighting reminded him of one of those small powerful fighter jets that were finished just after the war.” You chuckled at the memory before your eyes found Becky’s again only to see pain all over his face. 

A silent tear rolled down his cheek and hit the floor before you could see it stain his skin. “I'm so sorry.” His voice was shaking, his body trying to make itself smaller but failing miserably with all the muscle surrounding it. He took up the room and your heart right along with it.

“Hey you have nothing to apologize for, you hear me.” You cradled his face and his hands instantly covered yours, only for his metal one to retract just as fast again. He was sorrowful and it made your heart ache. 

“You’ve been navigating through so much alone and this is yet another thing you had to do without me.” He confessed through his tears and squeezed his eyes shut. He hadn’t changed within - always caring for everyone around him and never putting himself first.

“I’m fine. Was then and am now.” You ensured him. “If you want to worry about someone, take Steve. He’s a lot more overwhelmed than I am.” Bucky chuckled through his tears, a deep seriousness settling in his eyes. “If anything, I’m sorry we didn’t save you sooner.”

He shook his head. “You couldn’t have known.” And there it was: a glimpse of the loving, caring, charming man you’d known so many years ago. A small smile snuck onto your face at the revelation and a spark of hope shot through your body. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” you confessed, "We never had the time to actually be just us. To live all the dreams we shared back then.” 

Bucky's eyes were full of sorrow before he closed them and pressed his forehead to yours. “I wish I could say I missed you,” he whispered and slung his arm around you, “But I didn’t remember.”

“And that’s not your fault, you hear me.” Your hand stroked over his damp hair, pulling it back and making Bucky look at you again. “None of this is your fault. Don’t you ever doubt yourself. What happened to you is horrible. And I vow to kill every single person responsible for keeping us apart for this long. But not once will anyone ever consider this your fault.”

Bucky averted his eyes and turned his head but you were quick to catch his face with your hand. “Promise me you won’t beat yourself up. Please. That’s all I ask of you. Let Steve and me handle the rest and focus on becoming comfortable in your skin again. I can’t wait to meet the man you can become.”

“You don’t want to know me, doll. Not anymore. Even if it wasn’t my fault, it changed me. I’m not the man you-“ he stopped talking as you watched regret flash over his features. “I don’t think I can give you what you deserve.”

“I don’t care what I deserve, Bucky. I want you. I always have and that won’t change because some bullies tried to brainwash you. The very fact that we are here talking like this shows how much stronger you are than them. How the good in you never wavered.”

“But I can’t even trust myself. How can I expect you to do so of me?”

You cradled his head harsher as you felt your own tears roll down your cheek. “All I need is for you to try and trust me. We’ll figure this out... like we always do.”

Bucky’s flesh hand had fallen to your thigh, a soft thumb stroking over your leg and he watched the movement in awe. You didn’t know how long it had been since he had last felt comfort but you were determined to make up for all the lost time. With the wild beating of your heart, you took his metal hand and laved your fingers with his, watching as Bucky’s eyes glued to your smaller hand in his. There was no fear of what could happen, no aversion towards the alien element attached to his body. And then, finally, he encased your hand with his silver fingers. 

Your other hand still stroked his cheek and you waited until he caught your gaze again. And once he did, you did not hesitate to slowly push your lips to his. 

Just a short, sweet kiss. One that held more words than you could ever say. And then you waited. What for? Maybe a rejection, the shake of his head, or the sheer confidence with which he used to kiss you decades back. 

Bucky’s breaths were shaky, his hands still touching you and sending softly timid comfort through your body. He held your gaze for a second... and then, he finally kissed you back. 

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[ticifics]

Improvising Love

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: James has been cast as Romeo and you hatch a daring plan to steal the role of Juliet. The script never stood a chance

Warnings: muggle!AU, fluffy, marauders making crazy plans

“Please.” James asked once again, stretching out the words in a syrupy tone while giving you that pleading look he knew was practically irresistible. To top it off, he exaggerated a pout—a weapon he loved using against you.

You, however, held your ground—or at least tried to. “No, James. I’m not getting on that stage. Give it up.” Your voice came out exasperated, but the irritation was more theatrical than genuine. You returned your gaze to the book in your hands, as if reading was remotely possible with your charming boyfriend so close to you. After classes, he had followed you home, sprawling out on your bed and begging for your attention. He was practically draped over you, his face resting just below your chest, purring like a kitten as your fingers combed through his unruly hair. Of course, he wasn’t satisfied sharing your attention with the book, occasionally nibbling on your skin whenever you stopped stroking his hair.

James, naturally, wasn’t ready to give up. “Love, I’ll be there with you.” He smiled softly, lifting his face to lock his eyes with yours. His fingers tapped the corner of the open book before he rested his chin on it, blocking your view. “Be my Juliet.”

It had been a few days since the school announced that auditions for Juliet’s role were open, and ever since James, who had landed the role of Romeo, had been asking you to try out.

You raised your eyebrows at him. “That’s the least romantic thing you could’ve said. Juliet? Seriously?”

He blinked, clearly offended. “They’re like, the most romantic couple of all time. It’s a classic!”

“It’s tragic,” you corrected without hesitation, shutting the book with more force than necessary. “They knew each other for what, a week? Two teenagers with raging hormones making impulsive decisions. No, thank you.”

James placed a hand on his chest as if he’d been stabbed. “That’s cruel. They died for love. True love, mind you.”

You sighed, a smile starting to creep up as you watched his dramatic expression. It was nearly impossible not to laugh when he pulled those faces. “James, they were way too young and completely reckless. If they had survived, they’d probably be divorced in five years.”

He looked genuinely outraged now, his eyes wide with indignation behind his glasses. “You can’t say that! They—”

Losing patience with the debate, you put the book aside and cupped his face in your hands. “The difference between us and them,” you began, softening your tone, “is that I would never lose you, James.”

The blush that painted his cheeks was instant, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. It was rare to leave him speechless, but whenever you did, you made sure to savor the moment. You took the opportunity to lean in, letting your lips brush across his face in soft kisses, relishing how warm and smooth his skin was. Magnificent. With each kiss, a sigh or a soft chuckle escaped him, bubbling out like music.

“I still think you’d make an amazing Juliet,” he murmured, his lips grazing your forehead as he returned the affection. “Just saying.”

(…)

A few days later, the afternoon passed peacefully, and by lunchtime, you found yourself surrounded by the Marauders in the school courtyard. Sirius took up most of the space beside you, lounging with his typical carefree attitude, while Remus sat quietly with a book open on his lap, his eyes glued to the pages. Peter, as usual, seemed more interested in the food than anything else, and James, seated by your side, made sure to keep one of his hands intertwined with yours as he spoke.

“So, she refused to be Juliet,” James announced to the group, his tone laced with fake indignation.

Sirius let out a loud laugh, brushing his dark hair away from his face. “Can’t believe you thought she’d agree. She hates being the center of attention; you know that.”

“Exactly!” you said, pointing a fry at Sirius before popping it into your mouth. “Finally, someone who gets me.”

James rolled his eyes dramatically. “You’re all so unromantic. Where’s your artistic spirit?”

“Probably running away from you,” Sirius quipped with a sarcastic grin. “But honestly, she’s right. Romeo and Juliet are just two love-drunk idiots. The story makes no sense.”

“Oh, not you too,” James groaned, throwing his head back. “Remus, at least you agree with me?”

Remus glanced up from his book, clearly uninterested in joining the debate. “I agree with whatever lets me get back to reading,” he said, returning to his pages.

Peter chuckled through a mouthful of food. “I think it’d be funny if she agreed just to make James all nervous on stage.”

“I don’t get nervous,” James said, offended, though Sirius’s mischievous grin suggested he was just getting started.

The conversation flowed, full of teasing and laughter. James stole the occasional kiss from you between exchanges, making sure to grab your attention with overly sweet gestures that earned complaints from the group—Sirius especially. He wasted no time making comments about how the two of you were like rabbits and should find the nearest room already.

Later, during a free period, you found James sitting in the library, his eyes fixed on the script, pausing only to adjust his glasses. He looked focused, but the smile on his face made it clear he was enjoying the challenge.

You took a moment to admire him. Honestly, he was painfully handsome—messy hair, vibrant blue eyes, brimming with untamed energy. His dark brows furrowed as he read, absentmindedly twirling a yellow highlighter between his fingers. You caught yourself staring at the way he bit his lip, wishing you could do it yourself.

Curious, you approached him quietly, watching as he flipped through the papers. That’s when you noticed the section highlighted in yellow: Romeo kisses Juliet.

Your stomach twisted. Kiss. A kiss between Romeo and Juliet. A kiss between James and another girl.

The thought sounded ridiculous, but the discomfort was undeniable. A pang of jealousy surged from your chest to your throat, and before you realized it, you were standing with crossed arms, staring at James with an expression hard to decipher.

He finally noticed you, breaking into a smile when he saw how close you were. “Everything okay?” he asked, oblivious to what you’d just seen.

You simply nodded, forcing a smile. The silence following your discovery seemed to weigh heavily in the air, even as you tried to act like nothing had happened. It didn’t take long for James to realize something was off. He set the script aside and studied you, tilting his head like a curious puppy.

“Alright, what’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as you fidgeted.

You bit your lip, hesitating. “Why didn’t you tell me about… that?”

“That what?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to sound casual, though your hand gesturing toward the script trembled slightly. “The kiss, James. Why didn’t you mention there’d be a kiss in the play?”

He blinked, his expression now completely skeptical. “Seriously? It’s Romeo and Juliet. It’d be weird not to have a kiss. Did you think I’d, what, shake Juliet’s hand?”

Your face burned instantly, and you crossed your arms in an attempt to hide your discomfort. “You could’ve given me a heads-up,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

James chuckled softly, the kind of sound that made your heart stutter even when you were upset. He stepped closer before you could pull away, wrapping his arms around your waist with an ease that felt intimate and natural.

“Hey,” he said gently, his fingers tipping your chin up to meet his gaze. “You know there’s no one I’d want to kiss but you.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he silenced you, pressing his lips softly against yours as if savoring something precious. He kissed you so tenderly it made you feel weightless, like a cloud. “Your lips,” he murmured against your skin, slightly breathless, “are like honey. I could kiss them forever.”

The blush spreading across your cheeks was unavoidable, and for a moment, you let yourself relax against him. James had a unique way of making the world feel less complicated. But even as he planted a few more soft kisses along your neck, the unease returned. The thought of another girl—even in acting—sharing a moment like this with him unsettled you deeply.

(…)

The Great Hall was bustling, but the table where you usually sat with the Marauders felt strangely empty without James. He had left earlier for rehearsal, which, of course, only filled your mind with unwelcome thoughts. The kiss. Was that what he was rehearsing? The idea was unbearable. You wondered how many times he and the “Juliet” would have to go over that scene, how many times she would feel his lips on hers, even if it was just acting.

“Are you listening to me?” Sirius’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you realized he was staring at you with an expression that was equal parts curious and amused.

“Hm?” you mumbled, trying to push away the images that insisted on forming in your mind.

“I said you look awful,” he repeated, grinning unapologetically.

“Thanks, Sirius. That’s exactly what I needed to hear,” you replied, rolling your eyes as Remus unsuccessfully tried to stifle a smile.

“I’m serious, what’s wrong?” Peter asked, biting into a piece of buttered bread.

You hesitated for a moment but finally admitted, “It’s James… He has to rehearse that scene. You know the one.”

Sirius’s eyes widened theatrically. “Oh no! The kiss! The unforgivable crime!”

“It’s not funny,” you grumbled, staring at your plate as if the food could offer some comfort.

“A kiss is just a kiss,” you said, more defensively than you’d intended.

Sirius raised his eyebrows, clearly sensing an opportunity to tease. “Oh, so that’s it. You’re jealous of poor Juliet?”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could deny it, he continued, “If you want to keep James’s lips all to yourself so badly, why not get rid of Juliet?”

Remus snapped his book shut instantly, looking horrified. “For the love of Merlin, Sirius. Don’t encourage this.”

Sirius laughed, utterly unfazed by Remus’s disapproval. “I’m serious. Think about it: a Romeo without a Juliet? Tragic. Poetic. Brilliant, really.”

Peter, chewing absentmindedly, finally chimed in, “That would be… hilarious, actually.”

Remus let out a long-suffering sigh, looking directly at you. “Please tell me you’re not considering this.”

But, of course, you were. The idea, absurd as it seemed, began to take shape in your mind. Sirius noticed the hesitation on your face and smirked mischievously.

“Ah, I knew you had a scheming side,” he said, pointing at you with a slice of pizza. “Come on, you’ve got my full support.”

“This is insane,” Remus interjected, clearly frustrated. “You’re going to ruin the whole play. Why can’t you just… I don’t know, trust James?”

“I do trust him,” you replied quickly, but there was something in your voice that made Remus raise an eyebrow.

“Alright,” Sirius said, completely ignoring Remus’s scolding look. “Let’s make a plan. How exactly are we getting rid of Juliet?”

You hesitated, but Peter was the one who suggested, “What if… we swapped her out? Like, no one would notice if it happened at the last second, right?”

Sirius snapped his fingers. “Exactly! Right before the kiss, she disappears, and you take her place. Brilliant.”

“This won’t work,” Remus insisted, exasperated. “You’re ignoring all the possible complications. It’s a live performance, for Merlin’s sake.”

“And that’s exactly why it will work,” Sirius countered.

You were still processing how far this idea might go, but there was something irresistibly tempting about the possibility of keeping James from kissing someone else.

“Okay,” you said finally, and even Sirius looked surprised for a moment.

Remus ran a hand down his face, clearly resigned. “I can’t believe I’m letting you do this.”

“Don’t worry, Moony,” Sirius said, clapping him on the shoulder. “It’ll be epic.”

As lunch ended, your mind was made up. The plan was risky, but you weren’t going to back out. Besides, with Sirius on your side, at the very least, it would be entertaining.

The following days required a great deal of effort to keep James from suspecting anything. You managed to get a copy of the script, and the boys helped you memorize the lines. It was embarrassing, and you considered abandoning the plan more than once, but Sirius quickly got you back on track. The hardest part was getting the costume, but the girl in charge of it was distracted enough for you to “borrow” the dress and accessories.

Before you knew it, the day of the performance had arrived.

Tension hung in the air as you put the final details of the plan into action. Sirius, Peter, and Remus were in their positions, each with their own task. The chaos was about to unfold, and you weren’t sure if you were more anxious or terrified about what would happen.

James had passed through the backstage area moments earlier, completely unaware of the storm about to break. He wore the Romeo costume, his hair neatly combed back, and, most shocking of all, he wasn’t wearing his glasses. You nearly lost your breath. The costume was flawless; he could have easily been part of a Hollywood cast. His unruly curls had been tamed, and silvery powder highlighted his cheekbones, making them sharp enough to cut glass. It was James, but in a way you’d never seen him before, and your mind swirled with admiration and nervousness.

He smiled in that way that made your heart race and approached to wish you good luck before heading to the stage. “I can’t believe they’re letting me do this without glasses,” he said casually, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “Hope I don’t trip.”

You laughed, though your throat was dry. “You’ll be amazing.”

He gave you a curious look, as if sensing something unusual, but said nothing. “See you later, yeah?”

“Of course,” you replied, trying to sound casual. He disappeared down the hallway, and for a moment, everything felt suspended in time. Until your friends appeared silently.

“Let’s go,” Sirius said, breaking through your daze. “It’s now or never.”

You gathered in a hidden corner where you quickly changed into Juliet’s costume. The outfit felt like an elaborate trap—full of layers, lace, and a suffocating corset—but there was no time to complain. Sirius handed you the final accessory as Peter and Remus ensured the real Juliet remained “secured” in the wardrobe where she was temporarily “stored.” The girl barely had time to react before Peter clumsily informed her of a last-minute change and suggested she touch up her makeup. Sirius promptly locked the door, shouting an apology as he ran to join you and the others.

“Ready?” Remus asked, genuine concern in his eyes.

You took a deep breath and nodded, even though your mind was a mess. “Thanks, guys, you’re the best.” You hugged them all at once.

“I know, darling,” Sirius quipped, hugging you back with his leather jacket creaking slightly.

“You have to go, now,” Remus reminded you. You nodded, nerves tying knots in your stomach.

“You’ve got this,” Peter said gently, squeezing your hand.

Forcing your legs to move, you walked with your head down to keep anyone from noticing Juliet’s mysterious transformation. Your heart pounded painfully as you stepped onto the stage.

The curtain rose.

The stage lights were brighter than you’d imagined, momentarily blinding you. Your vision adjusted slowly, and then you saw him. James stood at the center of the stage, completely focused on the scene. The surprise on his face when his eyes met yours was something you would never forget.

He froze for a moment, confused, but, ever the professional, continued the play, his expression shifting between shock and fascination.

You stumbled over the first lines but quickly remembered the nights rehearsing with Sirius, who, surprisingly, had a hidden talent for theater. The audience didn’t seem to notice anything—or, if they did, they were too engrossed to care.

And then came the scene you dreaded most.

James approached slowly, his footsteps echoing on the stage as you struggled to maintain your composure. His voice was steady and passionate, clear and brimming with emotion.

“If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”

He extended his hand, as if to touch yours, but paused, the gesture suspended in the air. You stepped forward, your lines hesitant but laden with an emotion you couldn’t hide.

“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”

James’s breath hitched for a moment. He seemed almost to forget the audience, his eyes fixed on yours in a way that made the world fade away.

“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?”

“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.”

The tension was palpable, the moment stretching as if time itself had slowed. When James leaned in, his hand lightly touching your face, your knees felt like they might give out.

And then, he kissed you. Gently moving his lips against yours, coaxing them to part so he could slide into your mouth, making you sigh passionately.

It was brief, but it was everything you had imagined—and more. The sensation of his lips on yours was both surreal and painfully real, every detail etched into your memory. The audience applauded, but the sound seemed distant, muffled by the beating of your heart.

When the scene ended, you separated, but James’ gaze remained locked on yours, as if he had forgotten there was an audience around him.

Backstage, after the curtains finally closed, James didn’t waste a second.

“So, care to explain what that was?” he asked, his voice tinged with surprise but also something gentler.

“It was… an improvisation,” you said, trying to sound casual, though your tone was clearly defensive. The Marauders were nowhere to be seen, and now that the adrenaline was fading, your knees felt weaker by the second.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Improvisation, huh? Don’t tell me Sirius had something to do with this.”

You shrugged, trying not to blush, but he laughed, stepping closer.

“I have to admit,” he said, leaning in so only you could hear, “you were an incredible Juliet. Better than I imagined.”

Your heart felt like it might explode, but you couldn’t help teasing him. “And you? Did you manage to get through it without tripping over yourself?”

He laughed, shaking his head, and took your hand in his, lifting it to press a tender kiss to your knuckles.

“If I do trip,” he said softly, “you’ll catch me, won’t you?”

You nodded, unable to say a word, fully aware that you’d be willing to do anything for him.

In the end, you were more like Juliet than you’d ever thought.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

I See You As You Are - Pt8

aemond x wife!reader

Series Masterlist

Summary: You and Aemond now have three kids and a family of your own and navigating everyday life has been easier than you thought. Between picnics and growing dragons everything seems so blissful. You return to court at Aemond side once more and it seems as if the ladies have something to say about you and Aemond will hear absolutely none of it. 

Warnings: 18+ super sappy family time with dad aemond -i have heart palpitations when i write these!!, aemond being so devote and in love with you, body image issues but aemond plucks every single one of those thoughts from your mind, blood and a knife(not violent in any way - def not the scene ur expecting), oral(f), p in v, overall this man is just outright worshipping you x

Authors Note: slight recap from the full moon special but just to add some more details 🤗 also me apologizing again for taking my time writing this bc i’m attached and in love and i’m sorry 

Word Count: 6.5k 

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Three Years Later

The past three years have blessed you with two more children. Aerys who has recently turned two and Aelys your first daughter that you welcomed but a month ago. After Aerys was born you and Aemond decided to seek other chambers, large enough to accommodate your growing family. The stairs that plagued your original chambers caused concern once Aelor started walking and Aemond had you all moved into new chambers within two days. 

The new chambers had adjoining bed chambers for the children and had a main seating area more than large enough to allow them space to play as they please. Thankfully the dragon keeper is still close enough to be able to assist with the children’s dragons. So far each of your children have been blessed with an egg and you currently have two small dragons running around along with your children. Aelys’ egg stays nestled in her crib with her or near the hearth when she’s not sleeping.

Much to your relief Aemond has been more relaxed after this birth, though he doesn’t hesitate to do everything he can to ensure you don’t have to do more than necessary. You thought having two children was perfect but having your third is only making you yearn for a fourth. When you gave birth to your little girl Aemond cried more than you and now always whispers about how his ‘perfect little princess will never want for anything.’ when he rocks her. 

The sun has barely crested over the Bay when you hear giggles and small dragon screeches. Aemond tugs you out of bed with him and wraps you in a robe before pressing his lips to yours. When he opens up the door Aelor squeals and runs away from the handmaidens and clings onto Aemond’s leg. Aerys is a couple wobbly steps behind him and reaches up for you. You squat down and bring him into your arms peppering his face with small kisses. 

“And where pray tell is my little princess?” Aemond hums walking over to her bassinet. “There you are.” he coos and scoops her up. “Any changes to her egg?” he whispers to the handmaidens who shake their heads. 

As if on cue Aelor’s and Aerys’ dragons flock over to you and Aemond nudging against your legs. Aemond doesn’t speak much of Aelys egg not hatching yet but you can tell he’s worried and thinks about it often. You offer him gentle words when you catch him looking at it and whispering to it in Valyrian. His face falters every morning when there's no change but you always hold him tightly and whisper about patience. 

Aerys wiggles out of your arms and him and Aelor begin to chase their dragons around offering Aemond a much needed distraction. He can’t help his mind from wandering to what if it never hatches. What then? Will his little daughter hate him? His mind slows when he feels you curl into his side.

“Let’s go dress while they’re distracted.” you whisper up at him before leading him back to your bed chambers. “Tell me what's wrong.” you make him sit down on your chaise as you pull out clothes for the both of you.

“I’m scared she won’t have a dragon.” his eye starts to well with tears before he quickly blinks them away. 

“Will you love her any less if she doesn’t have a dragon?” you ask but you already know the answer. 

“Of course not.” he responds quickly. “I just don’t want her to feel different.” he looks down at his hands. 

“It still has time to hatch.” you cup his face. “Maybe she’s already decided she just wants to fly with you or her brothers. Or maybe she wants to remain at my side and hold my hand as my heart stops when the three of you take to the skies.” he looks up at you with a smile starting to form. 

“I wish I had someone like you when I was growing up.” he rests his hands atop yours that are still resting on his cheeks. “You’re so kind and patient.” he leans into your touch. 

“I’m here with you now and forever.” you press your lips to his forehead. “As for my patience..” he looks up to you and is greeted by your smile. “I wish to dress and take our children out to the Bay before the sun sets behind it.” he's on his feet and pressing his lips to yours quickly. 

“At once, my wife. Let me not keep you waiting.” he starts to pull off your night dress.

You both steal kisses as you help each other dress before joining your children out in the main chambers. Aelor has been fully dressed and you’re greeted by a naked Aerys running around giggling until Aemond scoops him up and helps dress him. You find Aelys in her bassinet dressed for the day, blinking up at you with a small smile on her face. She reaches up for you and when you take her in your arms Aemond is at your side once more with both of your sons who are now dressed.Your handmaidens nod after the five of you as you filter out of the chambers and begin to clean up the mess that always seems to come over night. 

Today is the first day you’re taking Aelys to the back of the Keep for a picnic while the five of you look over the Bay. Walking through the halls is now an event as you stop and let the boys touch the decorations that adorn the walls and pull everyone into a conversation. By the time you make it back to the expanse of grass the servants are just finishing setting up the blankets and pillows along with food and drink. Aemond helps you settle onto the blanket and you reach up and cradle Aelys into your arms. He herds the boys over to the blanket before taking a seat beside you and letting you lean against him. 

Your boys barely stay seated leaving the three of you two watch as they charge around on the stone path. They run back over to eat small bites of food before they run off to play again. Aelys blinks around at her new surroundings and you and Aemond look at each other with warm smiles. The boys eventually tire and join the three of you on the blanket and begin to scarf down their food. They slow down after a couple hushed words from Aemond but once he looks away their plates are cleared and they’re up playing once more. 

“You’re sure the new minimum is six kids?” Aemond watches your boys with a smile.

“Would you like to up it again, husband?” you watch as he slowly turns back to you. 

“Whatever pleases you.” he hums, scooting closer to you. “Everytime you bring us another child I think you are the moon, not me.” his hushed words catch you off guard. “You’ve given me everything.” he searches your face. “You are my everything.” you reach out and cup his face.

“Aemond,” you whisper, brushing your thumb under his eye. “I was just asking if you wanted a seventh child.” a small chuckle leaves your lips. His hand encases yours on his face as he leans into you.

“And I was just reminding you that I’ll do anything you ask.” he turns to press his lips to your palm. “I love you so very much.”

“I wish to hold Aelys.” Aelor stands in front of you both with his hands clasped together with Aerys peeking out from behind his back. 

“Come sit.” Aemond leans back and starts to clear the plates out of the way so they can sit closer. 

You lean over and place her in his arms and watch as a smile spreads over his face. Aerys scoots closer and stares down at his sister. They ask you both when she’ll start talking and be abl;e to run around with them. You gently remind them she’s only a month old and she still has a long way until she can do those things. They whisper to her of plans they’ve come up with and promises of dragon rides. 

Aemond watches them with such love and turns his attention to you who is looking at them with the same look in your eyes. He imagines how in a couple years you’ll practically have a small company running around back here when you spend early mornings watching the Bay. He’s pulled from his thoughts when your voice greets his ears. 

“Alright, everyone settle in so your father can begin reading to us.” you smile helping them scoot closer to the both of you. 

He watches as your three children cuddle into you before turning their attention to him. His heart swells when Aelor pouts before crawling into his lap so he can read with him. He lets Aelor flip the pages and points out the words Aelor wants to know how to say and what they mean. You watch him with a content smile as his soft voice lulls you into an even more calm state as the sun begins to rise and bathe the five of you in golden light.

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It’s been a couple weeks since you’ve been to court and today is your first day back. Aemond has showered you with kisses and soft words of how beautiful you look in your new gown as he escorts you to the door. The children are with your handmaidens for the day, terrorizing them with their dragons no doubt. 

“It’s almost too quiet.” he whispers, opening the door for you. 

“I was thinking the same thing.” you smile up at him grabbing his arm. 

Aemond starts to lead you down the hall and you lean closer into his side. The servants offer you warm smiles as you pass by and make your way to the stairs. When the two of you make it to the bottom of the stairs Aemond presses his lips to your forehead and pulls you against him. He whispers low words of love and affection before pulling back and taking in your tinted cheeks. He continues to lead you down the hall and you steal glances up at him watching his hair whisk behind him. 

The guards open the doors for the both of you and you begin your descent down the walkway. You look around at all of the faces and your brows scrunch when you see ladies looking at you before whispering to their friends and laughing. You continue to look around and see a couple more simpering smiles before you curl into Aemond and look at your linked arms. Aemond looks down at you confused by the sudden shift in your mood as you both take your place next to his mother. 

“What’s wrong?” he holds you closer and watches you shake your head, refusing to look up at him. “Tell me now.” he steps in front of you. “Please.” he whispers.

“I will tell you after court.” he inhales sharply when he takes in your glossy eyes as you look up at him. “I’m okay. Please.” you grab onto his arm with pleading eyes. 

He sighs and takes his place next to you once more. You curl into him and try to blink away your tears but they fall over the edge. Aemond turns all of his attention on you as you wipe away your tears. You look straight ahead at the swords as you feel him step closer. His mind is racing at what could have possibly have happened in the few steps from the door to right now. He wants to take you out of this hall now but court has officially opened and you’re both now stuck. 

You slowly relax as the minutes tick by just wanting court to end already. Aemond is rigid next to you and you can feel eyes on the back of your head. You know you’ve changed since bringing three children into your family but you didn’t think it was that noticeable. The giggles and the whispers said otherwise and now your mind can’t stop focusing on their words. You want to disappear as you step closer to Aemond and he wraps his arm around you not caring if it's not an appropriate gesture for court. 

“Do you want to leave?” you barely catch his low question.

You shake your head once because you don’t want to make a scene. He sighs and looks ahead once more and you feel your lip wobble at upsetting him. Now your mind is racing about what Aemond thinks. What if he agrees with them? What if you’re no longer good enough? The moment Aemond hears your sniffle he’s pulling you off to the side and out of the hall. The doors shut behind you and he begins to lead you further away hoping the distance will calm you.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” he steps in front of you once you’re down the hall. 

“Nothing.” you shake your head.

Aemond searches your eyes and offers you his arm. You grab onto his arm and he’s quickly leading you down the hall and away from court. You’re back up the stairs in moments and he’s sealing the both of you inside your chambers once more. He helps you settle on the couch and goes to fill a cup with water for you.

“Will you please tell me?” his voice soft as he hands you the cup.

“I don’t know.” you look down at the cup in your hand.

“Tell me what is upsetting you.” he tilts your chin upwards and you see his slight frown.

“I’m different.” his brows scrunch. “Since bearing children. My body has changed.. I should’ve realized my chest was practically spilling out of this dress.” you shake your head. “Maybe it's holding me too tightly, I don’t know..” your voice wavers. “But they were laughing at me and whispering.” he wipes away the tears on your cheeks.

He’s silently watching you and wiping away your tears trying to rein in his anger. How could you feel this way or allow others to make you feel like this. He won’t allow it. He can’t. He won't. He nods his head with his decision and tilts your chin up once more.

“I’m sorry if I’m not good enough for you.” more tears fall down your face. 

“Tell me their names.” he whispers with a soft nod. “Or come and show me.” he reaches for your arm. 

“No.” you shake your head.

“Just tell me their names then. You can stay here.” he walks to the door. “Tell me what they were wearing.” his hand is resting on the door handle. 

“Aemond please,” you hiccup. “No, please just stay.” you reach out to him and he's walking back over to you on the couch. “You can’t yell at them if they're right.” he shakes his head at your words.

“They’re not.” he takes a seat next to you and grabs both of your hands. “You’re the mother of our children. The love of my life.” he shakes his head. “I think you are so very beautiful. As for your ‘changes’ I only view these as blessings. You are not spilling out of your dress.” he brings a finger to trace the neckline. “And I’m the one holding you tightly, not this dress. But it does hug you very tenderly.” your eyes snap up to him.

“I want to also remind you that I don’t just love you for your physical aspects. Though I do love them very much.” he smiles softly. “I think you are so sweet and kind. A gentle mother to our children. Brave enough to raise their dragons.” he smooths your hair back. “And somehow you love me. I’ll die for you. I’ll kill for you. Wield me as you see fit.” he wraps his arms around you as you curl against him. 

“I love you so much.” he whispers, pressing his lips to your hair. “Please don’t doubt that.” you crawl into his lap and he holds you as you continue to sniffle. “I’m sorry that I haven’t been worshiping you properly.” you pull back with scrunched brows. 

“You didn’t make me feel this way.” you shake your head. 

“No but the fact that others' whispers could make you feel this way tells me I’m not doing a good enough job.” he pulls you back against him. “You’re so very beautiful. Truly the mother made flesh.” he presses his lips to your neck. “I personally would prefer if your chest was spilling out of your gown.” his words start to form a small smile on your face. 

He pulls back from your neck and looks at your red cheeks. “Look at you.” he whispers. “A mothers body.” his hands that rest on your waist smooth down the curve of your hips and pull you closer to him. “A woman’s body.” he watches as your breathing deepens. “I don’t want anyone else. I don’t want you any other way besides the way you are.” he searches your eyes. 

“I love you. My wife. The mother of our children. My moon.” you press your lips to his as your tears start anew. 

For the next couple of hours you and Aemond cling to each other and share kisses and words of adoration. The only times you pause are to receive supper into your chambers and ask your handmaidens to keep the children for the night. After the sun is down you and Aemond are a tangle of limbs in bed as he continues to softly whisper to you between pressing his lips across your neck. You cling against him as if he’s the only thing tethering you to this earth and in turn he holds you tighter. 

“I love you isn’t enough.” he whispers and your brows scrunch. “Marry me in the traditions of my house.” he pulls back and looks at you. 

“We’re already married.” a small smile forms on your lips. 

“This is a different kind of ceremony. More binding. More intimate.” he grabs your hands. “Please,” he whispers. “Marry me again, please.” you chew your lip and nod once. 

“Yes, I’ll marry you again.” he presses his lips to yours quickly. He has you both out of bed and at the wardrobe at once. “It’s the middle of the night, Aemond.” you chuckle as he pulls out a new gown for you. 

“No matter.” he shakes his head and helps you out of your current gown and into the new one. 

You let him help you before you turn and offer the same, helping him ready for your late night ceremony. He looks you over with a dark eye and presses his lips to yours before grabbing your hand and leading you to the door. The halls are dim and barren as he guides you through them. You’re both up the steps to the maesters tower and Aemond is quickly knocking on the door. You wince as an older man opens the door with tired eyes and straightens up at Aemonds presence. 

“My Prince,” he clears his throat and blinks his eyes a couple of times attempting to wake up. “What can I do for the both of you?” he scans over the both of you and doesn’t find anything out of place. 

“I need you to wed us in the ways of my house.” Aemond quickly nods. 

“The hour is-

“I’m aware of the hour. Just the three of us. Just say the words and we’ll leave you.” the old man nods once and opens the door for the both of you to step in. 

Aemond leads you to a table near the window and smooths your hair as the maester begins to grab different supplies. Aemond whispers to you about how it works and if you’re okay with the different aspects. You nod your head, content to do anything he asks of you. The maester clears his throat as he walks back over to you with a folded cloth and some cream colored bindings. 

“Are you both ready?” you look at the maester who puts on a more awake face. “Did you want to do it here or where?”

“Here.” Aemond nods and you rise to stand at his side. 

“Very well.” the man nods and Aemond turns to face you as he begins reading off the words. 

You feel bad for the maester because you’re not even paying attention to the words he’s speaking, but to the man before you. Aemond mirrors your devotion filled eyes and you both continue to step closer to one another. After a couple more minutes of his hushed words he offers Aemond the cream colored cloth. Aemond unfolds it delicately revealing the dragon glass blade he told you was waiting. 

He grabs the blade in his hand and looks at you, who is waiting with an open palm. He cradles your hand in his and searches your eyes in silent question. You nod and step closer to him and watch as he brings the dark blade to your palm. The pain is fleeting and soon burgundy follows in its wake. He takes the blade to his own palm and you watch as the same burgundy follows in its path. 

“I think I expected stars to come out of you instead.” you whisper up at him as he presses your palms together. 

“If it would make you happy I could figure out how to bleed stars for you.” he whispers, lifting the blade up to your bottom lip. “Are you ready?” he watches you tilt your head further up for him. 

He makes a small cut and watches as red spreads across your lip. He offers his lip the same quick cut and turns to the maester. The maester begins to bind your hands together with cloth. Your eyes are locked on Aemond as you feel the knot tighten around your hands. The maester is whispering lowly in Valyrian and Aemond is looking at you with such devotion you can feel it piercing through your chest. 

“Just repeat the words after me and I’ll translate them after.” you nod your head at his soft words. 

“We are one flesh.” he makes sure to speak slowly and clearly for you. 

“We are one flesh.” he’s done for at the sound of your voice speaking his language. 

“We are one flesh.” he softly squeezes your hands. 

“We are one flesh.” you whisper up at him.

“One heart.” Aemond nods at you to repeat. 

“One heart.” you pray you’re not butchering the language. 

“One heart.” the only reason Aemond isn’t on his knees right now at your voice is because your hands are bound and he wants to be on his knees alone for you.

“One heart.” your words caress his ears. 

“One soul.” he nods, not paying any mind to the way his voice slightly cracked. 

“One soul.” your voice so soft he wishes he taught you the language already so he could listen to you for hours. 

“One soul.” his words barely a breath. 

“One soul.” you can’t help the tears that are welling in your eyes. 

“Now and forever.” you don’t know what he’s said yet but you feel the meaning, the impact, the love. 

“Now and forever.” he swallows back his tears at your words. 

“Now and forever.” he slowly leans down to your lips. 

“Now and forever.” you tilt your face up and when his lips touch yours it’s as if it’s your first kiss all over again. 

You both reluctantly pull back remembering the tired maester who just wants to go back to bed. He’s already walking over with a small pouch of cloth and things to help the small slices on your palms. He unbinds your hands and Aemond takes the cloth and shoves it in his pocket before quickly wrapping your hands. He takes the pouch from the maester with a whispered thanks before he’s whisking you back down the stairs. He begins to lead you out of the Keep and you look up at him with scrunched brows. 

“Why are we going outside?” you curl into him as the cool breeze greets you. 

“So the stars can witness our first dance.” he leads you into the gardens. “I wish it was a full moon.” he whispers, pulling you into the small courtyard you’ve become so familiar with. 

“All of my wishes have already come true.” you smile up at him as he pulls you against his chest. 

“As have mine.” he presses his lips to your forehead. “But I like the way you look when it illuminates you.” he starts to slowly sway you. “You always look like a goddess but especially when the moon kisses you.” 

“Then kiss me.” you tilt your head further up towards him and he presses his lips softly against yours. 

Aemond continues to slowly move you both across the stone as your lips mend as one. He feels as if he’s pouring his soul into you and he hopes you can feel his utter devotion to you. You cling to him, trying to get him as close as physically possible. You wish you could somehow pull your heart out and just offer it to him, offer him anything, everything. You both pull back, softly panting and looking at each other's tear stained cheeks. 

“I love you so much. So entirely. It hurts my soul sometimes.” you curl against him once more. 

“I know I love you more.” he shakes his head wrapping his arms tighter around you.

“No.” you whisper. 

“Yes.” he softly chuckles. 

“No.” you pull back with a smile. 

“Let’s agree that we both love each other so very much.” he cups your face. “And to go back to our chambers so I can worship you for what’s left of the night and maybe into the morning.” he watches your cheeks redden. “We must consummate our marriage properly.” he presses his lips to yours quickly before leading you back out of the gardens. 

The walk back to your chambers is filled with heated glances and lingering touches. A couple times he pulls you to the side and presses your lips together, unable to wait he mumbles against your lips until you playfully push him off and tug him down the hall. Once your chambers are in sight he’s pulling you faster to the doors and clicking them shut behind you. 

“My beautiful, beautiful wife.” he pulls you against him. 

“My beautiful, beautiful husband.” you cup his cheek and pull him down to your lips. 

He scoops you up, never letting your lips separate as he carries you to your bed chambers. He sets you down at the edge of your bed and turns you around to start slowly pulling at the laces of your dress. Every brush of his fingers against your skin sends a shiver down your spine. When he loosens the last of them he slowly pushes the material down your body before helping you step out of it. 

“My Gods you are so beautiful.” his hands grab your waist and pull you closer. He trails his hands all over your silk clad skin before slowly pulling off the slip. 

“Please do not tease me like our first wedding night.” you voice full of want. 

“Oh no, no,” he hums, continuing to softly caress you. “I’m worshipping,” he brings his hands back to your bare waist and softly squeezes. “Memorizing,” he slides his hand up your back. “Mapping,” he presses his lips to yours. “Loving,” he starts to kiss down your neck. 

“Teasing,” you're breathless from his soft touch. 

“You and I both know I’m not teasing you.” he softly bites at your neck. 

“Then why am I still the only one naked?” you tug on his jerkin. 

He continues to press his lips against your neck as he begins to pull his layers off. At every inch of skin he reveals your hands are there pressing against him and holding him tightly once he’s free of his clothing. You bring your fingers up to his eyepatch and he nods with a soft smile. You discard the leather near your clothes and pull him back against you once more. He slowly backs you both up to the bed and lays you back down and you pout as he stares down at you. You tug on his hand but he won’t move as his eye sweeps over every inch of you. 

“Aemond please,” his eye snaps up to your face. 

“Hush, I’m admiring.” he purses his lips. “And deciding where to start first.” his lips tilt upwards as his eye settles on your chest. He crawls over you and engulfs your breasts pushing them together. “I think I'll start here.” he nods, swiping his thumbs against your nipples. 

“If I had it my way these would be more than spilling out of your gown.” he dips down and softly licks at one of the hardened peaks. “One of my favorite things when you’re with child is how they swell.” he swirls his tongue around you. “They get so sensitive. Mm,” he kisses over to your other nipple. “I could lay in our bed with you all day and lick these,” he nods, circling his tongue around the bud. “Squeeze them,” you squeak when he does. “I just,” he groans, pressing his face between your breasts. 

Your fingers card through his hair and he presses his face closer to you. He turns his head to the side and you cup his cheek in hopes of bringing him up to your mouth but he has no plans on moving up your body anytime soon. He kisses and softly bites all across your chest and you’re sure you’ll wake up littered with small marks.  

“Aemond,” his name a plea. 

He begins to press his lips down your torso and place a ring of kisses around your belly button. His hands are still touching and caressing your sides as he kisses back up to your breasts once more unable to help himself. He’s greeted by your hardened peaks and he lashes his tongue against one of them listening to your soft whimpers. 

He chuckles and begins to kiss back down your body. There’s not an inch of your skin his lips are not pressing love against. As he scoots lower you chew your lip in anticipation until he lingers at your hip and keeps kissing down your leg. His lips softly press to your knee and he hears your small noise already guessing the next string of words that will leave your mouth when he starts at your other hip. And sure enough when he’s kissing down your other thigh..

“How fine is the line between teasing and worshipping?” your words breathy enough to tell him when he finally opens your thighs you’ll be dripping for him. 

“I should flip you over and start the whole process over.” he looks up at you with a dark eye. “Mm, I quite like that idea.” he smirks up at your pout. 

“I’ll fall asleep and then we’ll never consummate our marriage.” he chuckles against your thigh as he kisses back up it. 

“No you won’t. You’re dripping and you never go to bed wanting.” he starts to kiss up towards your breasts once more. 

“If you come up here for my breasts once more I’ll make sure I’m covered like a septa for the rest of our days.” you chew your lip at the glint in his eye. 

“I don’t think I put too much thought into pretending but I think I could figure out how to corrupt you as a septa.” he watches your cheeks flush even more. “Show you how to kneel for something else.” your breathing deepens at his low words. “Mm, does that excite you?” you nod your head quickly. 

“Please, I just want..” you trail off with small whines as he finally settles between your thighs. 

“Just know you have another round of that but flipped over another night.” he spreads your legs wider and smiles at your wetness. “This is the other place I could stay buried for a whole day.” he places kisses along the side of your slit and around your inner thighs watching you squirm before him. 

“Aemond, ple- yes,” he looks up at you as he encases your bud with his mouth and softly licks against it. 

His movements are slow and deliberate listening to each and every sound you make. The moment your hand cards through his hair he pulls you closer and moves his tongue faster. He smiles when you jolt and he slowly pushes two fingers into your core. He groans at how warm and wet you are as he starts to pump them in and out. 

“Yes, I’m,” you pant. “Please,” your legs tremble on either side of his head. 

He continues to worship you between your thighs listening to your soft pleas. He knows you’re close and when you let out a breathy cry his name he smiles feeling you flutter around his fingers. He continues with his slow licks and pumps as soft moans and whines leave your mouth. Your body is humming with pleasure and you gasp when he curls his fingers. 

“Just a little faster.” you pant. “Please, oh Gods just like-“ you squeak as his tongue and his fingers start a new rhythm. 

Aemond smiles against you when he feels his hand getting coated in your pleasure as he continues to lash his tongue against you. Your fingers tighten in his hair as you arch off the bed as your pleasure is rapidly approaching. You’re repeatedly crying out his name as you softly roll your hips against him. Your pleasure slams through you and your whole body trembles. He slowly removes his fingers and starts to kiss around your thighs once more. 

“You’re absolutely divine.” he whispers as he starts to kiss up to you once more. “And now you’re too blissed out to scold me for stopping here once more.” he chuckles as sucks one of your nipples into his mouth. 

“Please, I need you.” you whine, squirming under his touch. He finally kisses back up to your mouth and you sigh, wrapping your arms around him. “Thank you.” you mumble against him. 

He settles more comfortably between your thighs and the moan that leaves your mouth when his tip slides up your slit has him wanting to abandon his slow movements. You gasp into his mouth as he continues to slowly rock his hips against you, savoring every small sound that it elicits. He reaches between you and guides himself to your entrance and you both sigh into each other's mouth when he sheaths himself into you. 

“My beautiful wife.” he rests his forearms on either side of your head, allowing his hair to curtain you both in as he leans down and captures your lips once more. 

His hips are rolling into yours after every slow thrust. Your arms are wrapped around him wanting him as close as you possibly can have him. He presses himself closer to you, wishing you both could be absorbed into one for a couple of hours. You both pull back from the kiss and pant into the small space between you staring at one another.

“I love you.” you whisper followed by a small moan. 

“I love you.” he moves his arms to allow him to cradle your head as he presses his lips to yours once more. “Can we have another child?” he pulls back at your small chuckle. 

“We only have three.” you gasp when he lifts one of your legs to wrap around his waist. “We need at least three more.” you pull him back down to your lips. 

He continues to push his hips into you slowly. You feel your pleasure coiling as he slides in and out and the way he’s holding you so closely. You’ve never felt more loved and he’s never been more in love. You open your eyes when you feel a small drop and see him crying and when he opens his eye he’s greeted by your own tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I love you so much.” you softly hiccup. “I don’t..” you shake your head at a loss. “I’d do anything.” your words are getting slightly pleasure slurred. 

“I love you. My wife. My moon.” he presses his lips across your cheeks. “You can let go. I’m here.” he whispers, coaxing more pleasure out of you. 

“Aemond,” you cling to him as your pleasure washes through you and you feel him fill you in the same moment. 

He stays buried inside of you as you both whisper words of love and adoration between kisses. When he finally does pull out he rests on the bed next to you and pulls you against his chest to continue with his soft touches. When the touches get too heated you both mold back together as one until you are both spent. For the rest of the night and into the morning you both whisper about your growing family and names for the babe you’re soon to be carrying. 

ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

masterlist  ⏾  wips  ⏾  taglist

next chapter these kids will be up and babessss the cuteness i have planned for this !!! someone fucking sedate me 

ps: there’s another time skip next chap so i might do another little special to help smooth it over idk yet! 

pss: no bc i could have too much fun writing reader dressed as a septa to see what aemond would do jfc soooo 👉🏼👈🏼👀

i see u as u are taglist: @readerselegance @sinistersnakey @thebirdandthebee @lfzyxf 

@ka1afbr @ninihrtss @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @alexxavicry @misspendragonsworld @papichulo120627 @ashovertheriver @gabriella-aesthetic @moonymoo1 @faenyra @uwuuness @lizzylovebooks280501 @nostalgiagoth03 @multilover19 @summer-and-sunflowers @eternalwinters @rere10 @sxlsvv @sarahrosw36q @tricksterreaper @somethingsaladsomething @naty-sunshine @supernaturalwitch89 @the-wife-of-fictional-men

[libraryofgage]

Mermaid/Pirate Steddie Six

One | Two | Three | Four | Five

This fic was line-jumped! If you'd like to learn more about line jumping, please see this post

Anyway, thank you line-jumper for your patience, I know this was a little late orz but I hope you enjoy it!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

---

“Why do they look so weak?”

“Do you have more of these?”

“Can he really not breathe under water?”

“Does he understand bubble patterns?”

“He’s not the worst swimmer.”

“I could probably break his ribs with one tail swipe.”

“Please don’t break my mate’s ribs.”

Of all the words echoing in the water around him, those last few are the ones Eddie gets stuck on. He perks up as the curious hands of adolescent merfolk poking and prodding at him pause. From the determined expression on Steve’s face as he tugs Eddie closer, he definitely meant to say that.

“Seriously?” Robin asks, curling around Steve’s other side. Her hair floats across Eddie’s vision before settling, and bubbles rise from her fluttering gills. “You’re already mated? How did that even work?”

She glances down as she asks, and Eddie follows her gaze to Steve’s tail. It looks normal to him. His wound has healed, leaving only a faint scar behind. If anything has changed, it’s that the inexplicable splashes of orange across his scales make sense in the water. They glimmer and shine like gold and silver coins in the wavering sunlight that manages to break through the surface. Eddie is hypnotized by them, and it takes a conscious effort for him to look away.

Steve’s flush tells Eddie something important has been alluded to, and he’s starting to get an idea of it. “Robin! Not in front of the guppies!” Steve tells her. She cackles in response, bubbles bursting from her gills as she curls around Steve’s right side and flicks his forehead.

“But we already know about that stuff,” one of the guppies, Lucas, says. A few bubbles rise from his gills, too, and Eddie is starting to wonder if they’re important when Robin and Steve pause to study them. 

Another one, Dustin, nods and places his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. He pushes up to float above him, holding tight so he doesn’t end up floating away. Somehow, this results in Dustin’s tail smacking against his back a few times, but at least it doesn’t hurt. “Yeah,” Dustin says, “You taught us during the last cold tide trip. Remember? Joyce and Hopper got together and started talking about more guppies, so then Erica asked what they meant and you got all red like a lobster as you tried to explain it.”

“Teaching you about reproduction and discussing…recreational enjoyment are very different things,” Steve says, his firm tone undermined by his flustered look. 

Eddie taps Dustin’s hand, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows in a curious expression when Dustin looks down.

“Oh, do you wanna know?” he asks.

“No, he doesn’t,” Steve says at the same time Eddie nods. When Steve glares at him, Eddie grins, salty water rushing into his mouth. He doesn’t mind too much, especially when he points at his throat and Steve’s glare immediately melts into fondness and concern. He leans in, kissing Eddie and pushing more air past his lips. 

“We are just teaching Eddie about reproduction,” El says when Steve pulls back. She pushes under Eddie’s arm, wrapping her tail around his leg to stay in place. With her there, Dustin’s tail is no longer hitting his back, and Eddie hesitates before patting her head. 

Between her, Dustin on his shoulders, Steve holding him close, Robin practically wrapped around Steve, and the rest of the guppies surrounding them, he’s starting to realize how touchy merfolk are. Or maybe this is just Steve and Robin and their guppies. He’ll have to ask later.

“Why are you making such a big deal when it’s boring?” Max asks, huffing as two lone bubbles rise from her gills. “Two merfolk decide to have a kid. One fertilizes the other, they carry the egg for a while and birth it. After that, caretakers watch the egg until it hatches. Simple.”

Yeah. Eddie has so many questions. He can’t ask any of them now, though. All he can do is nod along, forcing his expression to remain serious as he listens. Max seems to like the attention, her gills fluttering again and letting a stream of bubbles rise to the surface as she perks up.

“Man, it sounds boring when you say it like that,” Mike tells her, grinning as he turns to look at Eddie. “So, anyway, dicks an--”

Robin laughs as she smacks her hand across Mike’s mouth, using her other hand to ruffle his hair until it’s floating wildly in the water. “All right, all right, let’s stop before dingus goes belly-up,” she says, pinching Mike’s cheek when she pulls his hand away.

He huffs and sticks his tongue out at her. “Eddie asked,” he says.

“Eddie didn’t ask anything. He can’t talk, and he doesn’t make bubbles,” El says.

“No, like, he used his face.”

“Oh.”

As they talk, Eddie tugs on Steve’s hand, pointing to his throat again. Instead of immediately kissing him, he glances up at the surface with a frown. It’s not like Eddie was actually running out of air, so he doesn’t tug on Steve’s hand again. “How about we go up,” he says, looking at Robin. When she just looks confused, he adds, “You could see Eddie’s ship.”

“Really?!” Dustin and Will ask, both of them looking at Eddie hopefully.

Eddie considers for a moment, figures the guppies can be entertained by his crew if they get too bored, and nods once.

“Yes!”

----------

“They have so much energy,” Eddie says, carefully setting Steve on the bed before collapsing into it next to him. He rubs his fingers together, feeling how wrinkly they are after spending most of the day in the ocean. They still haven’t smoothed out despite being on the ship for an hour already.

Steve hums softly, reaching over and taking Eddie’s hand. He laces their fingers together, rests their hands on his stomach, and says, “They liked you.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell between Mike trying to drown me and Erica trying to bite me,” Eddie says, squeezing Steve’s hand.

The drowning attempt had happened when they surfaced. Mike had grabbed Eddie’s ankles and yanked him back under, grinning as Eddie yelped and swallowed half the ocean in the process. Somehow, Steve had managed to both kiss Eddie some air and smack Mike upside the head with his tail.

The biting had happened while trying to get all the guppies onto the ship. It involved nets and ropes and straining muscles, but they’d managed. When Eddie was getting Erica untied from the ropes, she’d leaned over and snapped at his shoulder. Robin saved him in time by yanking her back, refusing to hear her excuse about Eddie smelling like “really fresh krill” and her being hungry.

Things had been chaotic between getting the guppies and Robin settled, figuring out food, and keeping them entertained so they wouldn’t destroy the ship out of boredom. Eddie had never been so relieved as when they’d started nodding off in a giant tub they secured to the mast.

“They were just…testing you. A little. It’s normal when caretakers introduce a mate,” Steve tells him.

“What, are they making sure I’m sturdy?”

“More that you can handle them if you join the pod,” Steve explains. “Caretakers don’t leave their pods. If they mate with a merperson from another pod, that merperson just joins it. Guppies are overprotective and want to make sure mates deserve their caretakers.”

“That’s kinda sweet,” Eddie says.

Steve nods in agreement, shifting around some until he can turn to face Eddie. The bottom of his tail curls around Eddie’s leg, a heavy weight that he finds reassuring. “How do you feel?” he asks.

Eddie can hear the questions lying beneath. Did he like the guppies? Did they manage to scare him away? Is he going to end their courtship?

“They’re cool. I like them,” Eddie says, the words spilling out so he can reassure Steve. He feels something light and happy bubble in his chest at Steve’s smile. “I am wondering about something, though.”

“What?”

“How, uh, how does all of that…work?” Eddie asks, his face burning as he gestures to Steve’s tail, focusing on the general area Robin had looked at before. Despite the embarrassment of asking, he can’t help the heat that simmers through him at Steve’s knowing smile.

“Are you interested in theory or practice?” Steve asks.

“Practice. I am so, so, so interested in practice,” Eddie says, throwing an arm around Steve’s waist and tugging him closer. “But I wouldn’t mind a little theory so I know what I’m doing.”

Steve laughs, pushing against Eddie’s chest lightly. When he lets go, Steve sits up, gesturing for Eddie to sit behind him. Once they’re settled, Steve is nestled between Eddie’s legs and Eddie is resting his chin on Steve’s shoulders. “There’s a slit,” Steve says, taking Eddie’s hand and placing his palm on a patch of scales just below his waist. “When a merperson is aroused, it opens to provide access.”

Eddie swallows, nodding as he feels the cool slide of Steve’s scales under his palm. He glances at Steve and moves his hand, brushing his fingers over the area until he can feel where the slit is. It’s a slightly raised line, barely noticeable if he weren’t looking for it.

“And, uh, how does it work? For two mermen, I mean,” Eddie says.

He feels more than hears Steve hum, the vibrations pulsing through him from where Steve is resting against his chest. “Well, it doesn’t matter much,” Steve says, reaching up to tug on a loose strand of Eddie’s hair. “You humans have a word for it, I think, but all merfolk have the ability to carry or fertilize. It really just depends.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, biting the inside of his cheek as he presses his palm flat against Steve’s scales again. “So, which…I mean, what do you…you know, prefer?”

Steve thinks for a moment, twirling Eddie’s hair around his finger. “Anything that feels good,” he finally says, tilting his head back to grin at Eddie. “How about finding out what does?”

Not for the first time, Eddie thinks, perhaps, the merman in his arms will be the death of him. It’s a good thing he doesn’t mind one bit.

------

Tag List! (tags are full, please follow #high seas steddie)

@mugloversonly, @raisedbylibrarians, @thegirlwiththelibrarybag, @savory-babby, @vankaar,

@beckkthewreck, @itcanbepalped, @imfinereallyy, @finntheehumaneater, @mightbeasleep,

@weekend-dreamer7, @whenindoubtb72, @troublemaker2azz, @just-a-tiny-void, @upallnightogetloki,

@mxmakessense, @ellietheasexylibrarian, @haelreadsshit, @y4r3luv, @starman-jpg,

@littlewildflowerkitten, @estrellami-1, @stevieschrodinger, @gaelicblue, @they-reap-what-we-sow

@5ammi90, @noodle-shenaniganery, @acrolius, @hallelujahimatheist, @rainbow-freckle,

@desidrarry-wolfstarshipper, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @79chevyimpala, @aliea82, @hopefulcookieoperatorpersona,

@sani-86, @queenie-ofthe-void, @goosesister, @hello-fellow-nerds, @luthienstormblessed,

@xtkxkrzrizir, @potato-of-the-lord, @geekymagicalpotato, @child-of-cthulhu, @aizawa-emma,

@m-owo-n, @newtstabber, @cartercaptainofthemoon, @spectrum-spectre, @a-little-unsteddie

[lionheartedmusings]

hi everyone! i talked about my new "dream job" very briefly a few times, but turns out you really shouldn't count your chickens before they hatch. i debated not saying anything multiple times, and frankly perhaps i should've kept quiet, but i refuse to let this situation eat me up and i feel like the community also deserves some transparency on some things that realistically, you'll never get unless people speak up. i want to preface this by stating very, very clearly that everyone that i met in the studio on a personal level is incredibly talented, passionate, and kind. all of them deserve much, much better than the way they get treated. i applied to be a writer for quackity studios / qsmp and got an email back on the 18th of january. i interviewed for the position on the 23rd of january, and entered trial period on the 28th after signing an "nda".

early during trial period, i asked one of my supervisors about payment and was told they weren't responsible for that and didn't know, but would get back to me as soon as they knew which never ended up happening (i do not blame them at all, they’re incredibly busy people). i should've pressed further, but as someone in a very, very sensitive financial situation and someone who loves the qsmp and admires the talent of everyone who poured their heart and soul into the project, i chose to wait and expect the best. i was officially welcomed into the studio on the 10th of february, and while i waited to be contacted regarding a contract or payment, i had to once again ask (even after i was already working) about payment. i was redirected to "the" head admin as it was him who handled payment, and had to wait days for him to log on so i could add him as a discord friend and ask about my salary. during that conversation, which took almost a week from start to finish, i was asked multiple times if i'd worked professionally as a writer or freelancer (to which the answer was no) before finally being offered between 200-250 dollars (which i later found out shakes out to 170€) per month. i had to ask how i was being paid, and of my own accord provide him with my paypal email in hopes of a response as he never made it clear to whom i should send it. i was incredibly lucky compared to so many members of that team, because i did get paid for my work over that month, even if it felt like i had to beg for compensation that had been promised to me before. it was an awful salary, but i was desperate and so excited to be a part of the team that i accepted the conditions. after léa's tweets, the response "jay" posted, and quackity's emergency stream, i heard once from a supervisor that things were on hold but we'd be informed of any changes. to this day, there has not been any communication either publicly on the discord server or privately, even though i asked a supervisor privately for any possible updates on anything. there's been absolute radio silence. i want to add that i do not in any way blame my supervisors for any of their lack of communication, as they've been nothing but kind and caring towards me and i imagine they'd say something if they could. i have nothing but the utmost respect for them. a few days ago (and i apologize for not being precise with the date but i wasn't checking these things closely as i had no reason to) i noticed that my access to just about everything on the server apart from the announcement channel had been removed, and the only role i retained was the main "writer" one. upon checking, the other writers on the team still retain all of their previous roles. for some reason i do not know nor understand, my access got removed without any sort of word, communication, dm, anything. anything i've ever learnt about this situation, i learnt in the middle of the night live on twitch.tv while i waited to see if i still had a job or not. the only reason i can find for my access being removed and not the other writers is the fact that i'm friends with pomme's admin. i do not know if that is why, it's merely my own speculation, but it's the only link i can see that would lead to that decision. i hope i'm wrong, but hope hasn't gotten me very far in this yet. yesterday, i quit.

i only applied in the first place because i love the qsmp. i love this community, i love this project, and i genuinely and wholeheartedly wanted to help build it as well as be able to in some way support myself while being creative. i'm not making this post because i hate quackity and want to see anything burn — i'm just exhausted, and stressed, and losing sleep over a business that ultimately does not care for the people that made it a reality. i could not in good conscience not say something, because while i was very lucky that my time there was short and while i made friends there that i believe i will take with me for the rest of my life, i've never been someone who can sit and watch others be mistreated so blatantly and just ignore it. i honestly and sincerely hope that moving forward, things change, but after what i've seen i have very little hope left in me. this isn't just about the exploitation of people, or just about not providing people with payment for their work — it's about treating other human beings who are killing themselves and working themselves to the bone with the very minimum of care and respect. it's about people who made the qsmp what it is being discarded and disrespected constantly, and who live in fear and anxiety. these people deserve to be treated well, and that lack of respect hasn't changed regardless of any "announcements" made. my heart and full and complete support goes out to everyone who is dealing with these very unfortunate circumstances and treatment (my dms are always open if you ever want to reach out), to léa for being so incredibly brave and putting herself in the line of fire for the tens of people still in the studio, to all the actors and the twitter teams for the absolute silence they've received as payment for their hard work over almost a year, and to pomme's admin who despite what's going around on twitter has not received any contact from anyone in the studio yet, and deserves so so much better.

it’s my most sincere hope that qsmp thrives and conditions change, because everyone there deserves that. everyone there deserves to be treated like gold because they’re some of the best people i’ve ever met. i wish it didn’t feel like we have to put ourselves in the line of fire publicly for any sort of response because clearly staying silent hasn’t helped anything.

please, support the people who spoke out and support the people still in the project. they're the ones who made the qsmp the qsmp. they're the ones you should be standing with first and foremost.

[genshinluvr]

To be Reborn

Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Vidyadhara!Isekai'd!Reader (Reincarnation AU)

Summary: Waking up in Scalegorge Waterscape, you have no recollection of your past life. You are reborn— you are a Vidyadhara— hatched from an egg. A young blond boy awaits your rebirth, the same boy who volunteers to be your protector. Your past life remains a mystery. Your relationship with three particular men remains a mystery as they gaze at you longingly from a distance. Sometimes, it's a curse to be reborn.

Note: Before any of y'all come at me, the relationship between Yanqing and the reader is strictly platonic. Imagine a protective little brother. I'm glad I was able to type this out and get it posted because this idea has been on my mind for a little bit. So, did anyone get Dan Heng IL? :3 I got him with one pull, and that makes me happy and relieved. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Mentions of murder, mentions of blood, Nanook doesn't make an appearance in this fic :<

Word Count: 4.3k

You’re floating in the sea of darkness, floating around aimlessly. You can’t tell if your eyes are open or if they’re closed. You can’t move your arms or legs, and you feel like you’re underwater. The sounds around you are muffled, making it seem like you’re underwater. You have no recollection of how you ended up in this situation. Your mind is blank; no memories are rushing back to you. Your brain is a blank slate— the only thing you can recall is your name, and that’s it. Everything else? You have no memories of it.

Your ears twitch at the sound of faint cracking around you. Light gradually breaks through the endless darkness. The cracking gets louder and louder, and before you know it, the world around you is flooded with brightness, and you fall to the ground. Well, you land on top of someone. You open your eyes to see bright gold eyes staring at you with awe and worry.

“Are you okay?” The young blond boy asks, helping you up from the ground.

You rub your head and look around, dazed and confused. “Yes. I’m fine, thank you,” you reply hesitantly.

You notice a giant egg resting beside you, cracked eggshells on the ground and on your clothes. Did you come from that egg? You look at the young boy, who notices your confusion almost immediately. The blond boy smiles and rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks turning bright pink.

“I hope you don’t mind me waiting here for you to hatch. General Jing Yuan has spoken about you many times, and I wanted to meet you myself,” says the young boy.

General Jing Yuan? The young boy continues to ramble while you stare at him cluelessly, scanning your surroundings. This place… it feels familiar, but you don’t remember anything. You shake your head and rub your throbbing temples, sighing. 

“Oh, I almost forgot to introduce myself! My name is Yanqing! I am General Jing Yuan’s retainer! I hope you don’t mind me being the first person you meet after being rebirthed,” says Yanqing, smiling at you sweetly.

You have many questions to ask, but it seems like your questions will be unanswered for the time being. Which you don’t mind. However, what bothers you is your lack of memory. Yanqing tilts his head to the side, gazing at you worriedly.

You snap out of your stupor and smile at Yanqing. “It’s nice to meet you, Yanqing. My name’s—”

“[Y/N], I know your name already because General Jing Yuan would go on and on about you,” Yanqing nods, smiling at you boyishly.

Cute. You want to pinch Yanqing’s cheeks until he smacks your hand away from his face. You smile at Yanqing, still confused about how he knows your name. Yanqing’s smile slips off his face when the realization hits him.

You brush off the look he’s giving you and point at the egg. “How long were you waiting for me to be reincarnated?”

Yanqing looks away, rubbing the back of his neck while giggling awkwardly. You cross your arms over your chest, gazing at Yanqing with amusement. Yanqing is like an adorable little brother who’s attached to his older siblings and is protective of them, but he doesn’t want to show it because he doesn’t want to be teased for it.

“Not long, but I would come here every day to check up on you,” Yanqing mutters, kicking a pebble close by and watching it clatter on the ground. 

You press your lips into a thin line and pat Yanqing’s head. Yanqing silently fumes and turns away with a small huff, crossing his arms over his chest while puffing his cheeks out. You snicker and pull your hand back, sitting on the ground beside the egg you emerged from. 

Yanqing sits beside you, looking at you curiously. “Do you really not have any recollection of your past memories?” Yanqing asks.

You shake your head. “No, I don’t have any of my past memories, Yanqing. Am I supposed to?”

Yanqing exhales slowly and leans back on his arms, kicking his feet back and forth as he debates on what to say. You’re a long-life species with draconic features— a Vidyadhara. Your hair cascades down your back as your tail sways behind you. Your tail and horns are a light pink, almost pastel pink. You look breathtaking, even more breathtaking compared to how General Jing Yuan described you.

You turn to look at the young boy beside you, who blinks at you before turning away. Yanqing hums and nods.

“Yes, you’re supposed to remember your past lives when you reincarnate. Many long-life species remember their past lives and their past lovers,” Yangqing says nonchalantly.

It must be nice to be able to remember your past lives and people in your past. Why is it different for you? How come you’re the only person (well, you’re assuming you’re the only person) who doesn’t remember their past life despite being reincarnated? Maybe you’re the odd one out.

“That’s unfortunate for me. I don’t remember my past life. I only know my name,” you sigh, leaning against the hollow egg you emerged from. 

Yanqing hums, tapping on his chin. “Maybe General Jing Yuan can help you recover your memories!” Yanqing says.

You pucker your lips and hug your legs. It’d be nice to have someone help you “regain” your memories, but their memories will be different from your past memories. Then again, what do you know? You only remember your name, and from what Yanqing has told you, it sounds like you and this General Jing Yuan person have some kind of history with each other.

Your conversation with Yanqing was cut short when both of you heard footsteps approaching your direction. You and Yanqing get off the ground and turn to see a large group of people standing before you two. The four men look at you with wide eyes. You couldn’t help but notice they all have long hair, aside from the others in the group accompanying the four men.

“[Y/N]...” The man with long black hair whispers.

He, too, has horns sprouting from the top of his head. You look at Yanqing, who glares at the four men before standing in front of you as if he’s protecting you from the four newcomers and their guests. The man with white hair smiles at you and Yanqing ruefully. You place your hand on Yanqing’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile when he turns to look at you.

Despite giving Yanqing a reassuring smile, Yanqing continues to keep his guard up, glaring at the four men before him. You sigh and cross your arms over your chest, looking away from the four men. Everything to you is a mystery. Your past, the four men standing before you and Yanqing, your history with this General Jing Yuan person.

The white-haired man narrows his eyes at Yanqing. “Am I missing something, Yanqing?” the white-haired man asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

The man with long, dark hair chuckles bitterly. “It seems like your lapdog is protective of [Y/N],” he says, his red eyes landing on you.

Yanqing growls and holds his sword in front of him. You can’t help but stare at the ground, drowning out the sounds and voices around you. There are whispers in your head, whispers that are loud enough for you to assume it’s all around you. You bite the inside of your cheek, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to listen closely. The whispers are not only loud, but they’re incoherent. You can’t understand what the voices are saying, and it bothers you. Why are the voices loud yet quiet at the same time? You subconsciously reach your temples, rubbing them as a headache forms. 

“[Y/N]?” 

You snap out of your stupor and look up to see the four mysterious men (and Yanqing and the other guests) gazing at you worriedly. You blink and sigh, shoulders slumping. Could the voices be from your past life? Whatever the voices are, it’s causing you nothing but confusion and frustration. How long have you been spacing out?

The blond man looks at you worriedly. “What’s the matter? You look frustrated,” says the blond man.

You give him a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m fine,” you reply hesitantly.

The man with horns raises his eyebrows at you, looking at you worriedly. You’re not entirely comfortable with telling these men your situation. While they know your name, you don’t know theirs. Yanqing moves closer to you, whispering into your ears and telling you each of the men’s names.

“I don’t have much recollection of my past life, but I heard you all know me. Or I knew all of you,” you say nervously while playing with the billowing sleeves of your hanfu. 

The white-haired man— also known as General Jing Yuan— nods and gestures for you and Yanqing to follow him and the other three men beside him. The pink-haired girl steps forward, smiling at you while shaking her legs nervously.

The pink-haired girl clears her throat nervously. “You may not know me, but my name is March 7th! But you can call me March! These two are Caelus and Welt Yang,” says March, gesturing to the older man with brown hair and glasses and the silver-haired man standing beside him.

You smile at the trio before walking ahead with Yanqing sticking by your side. You look around in awe. The more you walk further out of this place, the more you see things you have never seen before. Well, you probably did in the past, but everything is new to you. 

Yanqing gently nudges you, glancing over at you. “What’s on your mind?”

“This place is hauntingly beautiful. Where are we, Yanqing?” You ask, passively looking at the other Vidyadhara eggs as you and Yanqing walk by.

How long have you been in the egg you have hatched from? The young boy beside you smiles at you and crosses his arms over his chest. You may have known Yanqing for less than an hour, but Yanqing can’t help but pride himself in being the first person you trust. Unlike the four particular men— well, three men, but he digresss— who have been anticipating your reincarnation.

“We are currently leaving the Scalegorge Waterscape! If you have any questions, I will be happy to answer them!” Yanqing announces proudly, propping his hands on his hips.

You smile and pat Yanqing’s head as he leads you out of Scalegorge Waterscape with the others following behind. Scalegorge Waterscape is like another world to you— a secret world only certain people are allowed to know of its existence. 

You hum softly. “How much do you know about my past life, Yanqing? You mentioned how General Jing Yuan would go on and on about me. What has he told you about me?” You ask, crossing your arms over his chest.

That piqued the three Xianzhou men’s interest and curiosity while General Jing Yuan’s smile slipped off his face. General Jing Yuan clears his throat as he slowly picks up his pace to catch up to you and Yanqing. Mostly Yanqing. Yanqing taps on his chin as he racks his brain, trying to recall what the white-haired General said about you.

Yanqing’s eyes light up. “Ah! I remember! There’s this drink on the Xianzhou Luofu, and it’s incredibly sweet. Whenever General Jing Yuan sees someone drinking it at the Seat of Divine Foresight, the General would be like, ‘I remember the time when [Y/N] would sneak out at night and buy Immortals Delight with Dan Feng. They were caught in the act by not only myself but by Yingxing as well,’” Yanqing says, mocking the white-haired General’s voice.

‘Immortals Delight?’ you mouthed to yourself, trying to remember what the drink looked like and what it tasted like for your past self to be obsessed with the drink to the point where you and this Dan Feng person had to sneak out and buy it. Yanqing continues to rack through his memories before smiling widely.

“The General would also talk about how the blooming flowers remind him of—” A hand quickly covers Yanqing’s mouth, shutting the young boy up before he can continue.

You stop in your tracks and look to see General Jing Yuan covering the blond boy’s mouth with his hand. You and General Jing Yuan lock eyes for a moment while Yanqing thrashes around in General Jing Yuan’s grasp, trying to remove the General’s hands from his face. You press your lips into a thin line and cover your mouth with your hands to muffle your laugh.

Mr. Yang smiles and looks at Caelus and March, chuckling. “It looks like the General has fond memories of [Y/N],” says the brown-haired man.

Caelus snorts. “Yeah, very fond memories of [Y/N],” Caelus chuckles.

After some time, General Jing Yuan releases Yanqing. Yanqing huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at the white-haired General before scrambling over to you. Yanqing throws your arm around his shoulders, catching the others by surprise. You chuckle, and pat Yanqing’s head before the two of you continue your way toward the main entrance of Scalegorge Waterscape. While walking up the steps, Yanqing turns to look at the other four men— specifically Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae, General Jing Yuan, and Blade— before sticking his tongue out at them and turning back around to start a conversation with you.

“I think it’s weird how, allegedly, long-life species remember their past lives, but [Y/N] doesn’t remember theirs,” the indigo-haired man says, propping his hands on his hips.

The blond man in armor rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s not ‘allegedly’ when there’s plenty of evidence about it, Sampo,” the blond man says.

Once you all arrive at the entrance of Scalegorge Waterscape, you turn to the others before scanning the surroundings once more. You don’t think you will be returning to Scalegorge Waterscape, or at least not in the near future. 

A man with his hair in a half-ponytail speaks up, “Why do you look glum?”

You blink at him and the other unfamiliar faces. Caelus slaps his forehead before introducing you to the three extra people you weren’t introduced to— Sampo, Gepard, and Luka. The two men, Gepard and Luka, smile at you politely. At the same time, Sampo magically pulls a comb out of thin air, combing his hair before strutting toward you. However, before Sampo can reach you, Yanqing stands in front of you, pointing the tip of his sword in Sampo’s direction with a murderous glare.

“I wouldn’t get any closer if I were you,” Yanqing hisses.

Sampo holds his hands up. “Whoa there, little guy! I mean no harm!” Sampo says, smiling at Yanqing nervously. 

Yanqing glowers at the nickname Sampo gave him before looking at the white-haired General.  General Jing Yuan chuckles, walking toward you, Yanqing, and Sampo. General Jing Yuan stands behind you and Yanqing, placing both hands on your and Yanqing’s shoulders while smiling politely at Sampo. On the surface, General Jing Yuan is calm. Still, on a deeper level, the white-haired General is mildly annoyed with the indigo-haired merchant.

General Jing Yuan clears his throat. “Yanqing, stand down. There’s no need for hostility. We’re all friends here, are we not?” asks the General.

Yanqing makes a dissatisfied noise before putting his sword away. Yanqing continues to glare at Sampo, propping his hands on his hips before pointing his index finger at the man.

Yanqing demands, “What were your intentions with [Y/N] when you approached them?”

You look at Yanqing, surprised. You look at Sampo and smile at him before patting Yanqing’s shoulders. Yanqing doesn’t budge and continues to glare at Sampo. You sigh in defeat and look at General Jing Yuan, who’s already staring at you. You visibly wince with surprise before quickly looking away from him, your cheeks getting hot while the General chuckles. 

“I see the General’s feelings for [Y/N] have yet disappeared,” Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae murmurs beside Blade, crossing his arms over his chest while watching the scene unfold.

Blade huffs beside Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae, crossing his arms over his chest and glancing at the horned man beside him. “I could say the same thing for you,” Blade says nonchalantly.

Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae ignores the look Blade is giving him, acting like he doesn’t feel or notice an obvious stare from the dark-haired man. Yanqing grumbles to himself before tugging on your arm and pulling you away from the group. You find yourself standing at the docks, doing what you have been doing since you hatched from your egg— look at your surroundings. It bothers you how familiar this place feels, but you can’t remember why.

“Ahem. Care to tell what’s been bothering you?” Luocha asks, now standing beside you as he gazes at the horizon.

Your gaze falls to the ground, feeling the sand beneath your shoes. You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue and tap your fingers on your biceps, debating whether you should tell them what’s on your mind. As much as you wanted to say to them what was wrong, you’re sure the others already knew the issue. 

You look up at Luocha, who stares at you intently with his sparkling green eyes. You look at the sun setting on the horizon, shoulders slumping as you cross your arms over your chest. It almost feels inappropriate to tell someone your problems, especially when you met them not long ago after being reborn. 

“Is there a reason why I’m unable to remember my past life? I find it strange that I’m the only one who can’t remember their past life after being reborn,” you sigh, rubbing your temples.

Everyone looks at Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae, General Jing Yuan, and Blade. The three men look just as clueless as the rest. You sigh and smile at them ruefully, waving your hand in front of you while shaking your head.

You sigh, “You know what? Forget I asked that question. Maybe there’s a reason why I don’t remember my past life, and perhaps it’s for the best.” Realization soon kicks in. You turn to the audience behind you and Luocha (and Yanqing), eyebrows furrowing with confusion. “Now that I am reborn, where do I go from here?”

Caelus looks at you questionably. “Care to elaborate on that for the rest of us?” Caelus asks, propping his hands on his hips.

“Do I return to the Xianzhou Luofu, or do I go elsewhere? I don’t have a home per se,” you reply, playing with the billowing sleeves of your hanfu. “This is a new and strange concept for me— not remembering my past life and questioning if I belong on the Xianzhou Luofu.”

The rebirth cycle of a Vidyadhara is something you have never experienced. At least, that’s what you assume. The waves crashing on shore are almost deafening, loud enough to keep you semi-occupied from your thoughts. What did you do to deserve to be put in this situation?

Mr. Yang hums, stroking his chin. “Well, you are always welcome to the Astral Express,” says Mr. Yang.

You look at the brown-haired man curiously. The Astral Express, huh? Sounds like you will be going on lots of adventures if you board the Express. It does sound better than doing nothing on the Xianzhou Luofu, especially when you don’t have a place called home. March’s eyes light up, and she runs toward you, linking her arms around yours. For a brief moment, a flash of panic can be seen in Yanqing’s eyes as he reaches forward, ready to pull March away from you. 

What stopped Yanqing from doing so was General Jing Yuan grabbing the young boy by the shoulders and shaking his head. Yanqing huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, grumbling while kicking a pebble close to his feet. March caught you off guard when she linked her arms around yours. You didn’t expect her to be bold enough to touch you (mainly because Yanqing would cut anyone who tried to touch you).

You hum, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “I might consider it, but I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb,” you murmur, pointing to the horns on your head.

You know Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae has horns as well, but he can at least hide his appearance and present himself as a human like the others. You, on the other hand, don’t know if you can do the same. However, having horns and draconic features shouldn’t be a big deal other than dealing with the looks of curiosity from strangers and awkward stares when you make eye contact with the person.

Luka raises his hand to grab your attention. “I have a question. Since Dan Heng can change his appearance, can you change yours as well?” Luka asks, gesturing to the horns on your head.

You subconsciously touch your horns and chew the inside of your cheek. “I’m not sure, Luka. Even if I can’t hide my horns and draconic features, it’s no big deal,” you reply, smiling at the now-blushing man.

You and the others got on the boat to return to the Alchemy Commission. Despite reincarnating and not remembering your past life before being reborn, the Alchemy Commission feels almost as familiar as Scalegorge Waterscape. Although, you can’t help but feel grim when arriving at the Alchemy Commission. 

“Does anything feel familiar by any chance?” Gepard asks, walking beside you.

You nod hesitantly. “The Alchemy Commission feels familiar, but I don’t think it’s a good thing. I can’t help but feel uncomfortable,” you reply, subconsciously rubbing your chest while looking around.

Aside from the Mara-struck roaming around the area, the Alchemy Commission looks eerie and empty. Unbeknownst to you and the others not of the Xianzhou faction, something tragic happened to you before your rebirth. Everyone is standing on the ground where you were ambushed and brutally murdered by someone you once trusted. You were lured to the farthest part of the Alchemy Commission, ambushed, and killed by someone you used to consider a friend. By the time Dan Feng (now Dan Heng), General Jing Yuan, and Yingxing arrived at the scene, they were too late. Stricken with anguish, Yingxing, General Jing Yuan, and Dan Feng tracked down your attackers and killed them all. 

They remember clutching your lifeless body in their arms, trying to stop the bleeding despite you being dead at the scene. Your clothes are torn and bloodied, your hair matted with blood, and your skin stained with your own blood. The three men remember the giant gaping hole where your heart was supposed to be— crimson blood pooling around you on the concrete as you stare up at the three grief-stricken men with lifeless eyes. Perhaps it’s best for you to remain oblivious of your past. It’s better that way, no matter how much it hurts the three men who hold you close and dear to their hearts.

General Jing Yuan places his hand on your shoulder. “Wherever you choose to stay— be it the Xianzhou Luofu or the Astral Express, you are always welcome to the Xianzhou Luofu,” says General Jing Yuan.

You smile at the white-haired General. “Thank you, General Jing Yuan,” you whisper.

You stop in front of the Aureate Elixir Furnace, staring at the large crucible with curiosity. You hear whispers around you. You look at the people standing around you, wondering if any of them said anything. But none of them were speaking. They’re surveying the area, not saying a word. 

“How strange,” you rub the back of your neck before crossing your arms over your chest.

You close your eyes and focus on the voice in the back of your head. The voices don’t belong to you, but the voices sound very angry and sad. The voices are gradually getting louder and louder. You squeeze your eyes shut and duck your head low, your hair falling over your face. 

The voice whispers, “We shall reunite one day, [Y/N]. You cannot escape your fate.”

Fate? What’s your fate? Are you in danger by any chance? Could the voices be connected to your past, or does the voice belong to something or someone seeking possible revenge on you?

“Are you alright, [Y/N]?” Blade puts his hands on your shoulders, startling you.

You look up at Blade like a deer caught in headlights. You gulp and smile at him nervously, trying to act normal. 

“Yeah! I’m alright! I’m trying to recall my past life, that’s all,” you lie.

Blade and Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae look at you worriedly as you turn to Yanqing, who approaches you with a worried look. Great, more people to worry about you. Yanqing stands beside you and stares at Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae and Blade cautiously before turning to you.

Yanqing holds his arm out for you to take. “Are you hungry? If so, I know a few places on the Xianzhou Luofu that have amazing food,” Yanqing says, giving you a closed-eyed smile.

You smile at Yanqing and loop your arms around his arm. “I am feeling a bit famished,” you murmur.

Yanqing hums thoughtfully, tapping on his chin as he pulls you away from Blade and Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae. While Yanqing is listing out the food on the menu of the restaurant he passively mentioned, the group behind you follows closely. 

Luocha looks at General Jing Yuan from the corner of his eyes. “You saw that, right?” Luocha mutters.

General Jing Yuan hums, nodding. “Indeed, I did.”

While your past life will be a mystery to you, the voices in your head seem to not want you to live your new life in peace. Whether the voices in your head are from the voices of those in your past life or are trying to warn you, there’s a strange feeling deep down in your gut, and you can’t put your fingers on it. Whatever it is, it will have to wait.

Note: I know a Vidyadhara has many features, but I like the draconic features. Therefore the reader has draconic features. Oh, and the color of the reader's horns... I couldn't come up with a color, so I chose a random color. If you're not a huge fan of the color I chose, change it to whatever color you desire. It's 5 AM, and I need to sleep, so I hope you guys like this story-ish. I won't be posting any fics for this upcoming week, so keep that in mind. Anyway, to my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for the HSR one-shot series: @ashwasherelol, @mompt2, @elegantnightblaze, @lunavixia, @jadedist, @reversearrowhead, @pinksaiyans, @aurelia-xyt, @lilliansstuff, @starrry-angel, @kaoyamamegami, @kodzuvk, @for3very0urs, @a-cosmicdawn, @g3n0dtt, @theblades, @wntrsblvd, @raaawwwr, @immahuman, @irisxiel, @siaracarroll, @crazydreamcat, @sen-nes, @sagekun, @orichalcumthief, @dyingsweetmackerel, @rosiesareblue, @ichikanu, @undecidingfate, @asoulsreverie, @angelmican, @misdollface, @4-34-am, @sxftiebee, @hispasian-otaku, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @vox34, @tsukkikeisimp, @inapileofbooke

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[raz-writes-the-thing]

A Fruit So Sweet (House of The Dragon One-Shot)

Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader / requests are open

Summary: Daemon's noticed you before, and tonight he makes his first move.

Fic type: fluff

HOTD: (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The Targaryens had always been a source of fascination for you. Their slim jawlines, and bright, white hair. They looked so… holy up there in the Sept and in the Castle, like Gods and Goddesses looking upon their subjects. They were about as close to the Gods as you could get. You often wondered how the common folk felt, looking up at them with their bejewelled necks and glinting armour. 

And that wasn’t taking into account their dragons either. Great, big beasts that could block out the sun as they flew overhead. They were beautiful. When you were young, you often thought about sneaking off to the Dragon Pit, stealing an egg and waiting for it to hatch. Then you could fly away when it was old enough and go and live somewhere secluded. Or even just travel, and live where you please. 

At least that way there would be no expectations on you except the ones you placed on yourself. 

But you were young then, and all children had to grow up eventually. 

So you did your duties, curtsied when required, learnt your needlepoint and sat through age after age of lessons with the Septors. Your only real peace was in the library or the gardens. Hidden away where you could let your legs splay like a man’s would, or hunch your back over a leatherbound book. You could be unladylike and no one would know. Or care. It was the perfect escape. 

Until he started coming around, possibly looking for his own escape. He hadn’t noticed you the first few times, or maybe he just pretended not to, but when you saw him, you’d always snap back into place, sitting pretty like a lady should. 

You had your book in front of your face, elbow on your knee and hand propping up your chin. You were hunched over the novel, enraptured by the tales of daring, dragons and adventure. You were so enraptured by the words on the page that you didn’t notice the arrival of another person in the back corner of the gardens until a hand was between you and the pages, raising your chin with their fingers. 

Oh. 

“My, aren’t you the picture of decorum,” he teased, eyes glinting with mischief. You snapped back into yourself, your brain suddenly catching up to the situation at hand. Your back instantly straightened, though his fingers lingered under your chin for another few moments. Then they were gone, taking their warmth with them. 

“My apologies, my Prince,” you breathed, suddenly very aware of the heat in his gaze and the fact that you were both out here in the gardens, hour growing darker by the minute and unchaperoned. “Would you like the solace of the gardens? They’re quite peaceful at this hour, I find. Should I take my leave?”

You make to escape to the safety of the castle halls, but Daemon stops you, fingers brushing the skin of your bare arm softly to keep you from leaving and yet giving you room to run should you need it.

 

“Running away so soon? And without your gift, too. You wound me, my lady-“ he practically purrs, a sly grin spreading across his lips. You tear your eyes from where his fingers brush your skin, sliding up his chest and settling on his mouth. 

“Gift?” You echo quietly, confusion evident in your voice. Daemon’s grin widens just a touch, almost imperceptible. Gifts weren’t common unless a courtship was underway, and the Prince had so far not shown any interest in you as far as you knew. But then, they didn’t have to. All a man had to do was woo your father to get to you. Not an easy task, thankfully, and yet… “My Prince, I-“ 

Daemon shushed you gently and presented you with a pomegranate from behind his back. You looked at the fruit, perfectly ripe. You’d always loved pomegranates, but they weren’t common here, and they were expensive. A frivolous expense saved for the royal family, your father would say. You’d only ever had one before on your fifteenth name day. It was a memory you cherished deeply. 

Daemon arched a brow when you still hadn’t taken the fruit from him, and you reached for it gratefully. You roll the fruit in your fingers, finally meeting his gaze. 

“Thank you, your Grace,” you say, a coy smile playing across your lips. You can’t help it. He is rather handsome, even if a bit older than yourself. You play at the thoughts of being his wife. His strong arms holding you at night, watching he and his dragon, Caraxes, come in after a long flight. You shake the thoughts from your mind. One pomegranate did not mean that Daemon Targaryen wanted to wed you and take you far away- no matter how much you might wish for it. “A very kind gift.” 

“I’ve seen you,” he says, disregarding the praise, and you stand, putting the book onto the chair you were just inhabiting. “Hiding away. What do you hide from?” 

You look over his shoulder out at the bay below. If you close your eyes, you can almost hear the water lapping at the shore. You shouldn’t be out here. You shouldn’t be having this conversation. The Court was well aware of Daemon’s reputation, and being caught out here alone would do no wonders for your own. 

“I…” you fight to find the right words, not wanting to be offensive but not wanting to lie or bend the truth either. “Everything.” 

Daemon doesn’t reply to that. It’s a silent request for you to elaborate, but you get the feeling he knows exactly what you’re talking about anyway. 

“Do you not want to see what the world has to offer? Do you not want to fly away and live a peaceful life away from the burdens of our society? To be improper and free?” 

Gods, you’d do anything to take a big bag of gold and set off somewhere else. Anywhere else. Maybe a nice villa in Quarth, or perhaps Dorne. It was true the Westerosi had a delicate relationship with the Dornish, but you’d always wanted to see the Dornish countryside. You’d read about it, of course, and had seen the painted ink artworks etched into the geography books the Septors had you memorising from the age of six, but that was nothing compared to being able to see it, to feel the sand in your fingers. You’d never even seen sand, locked up in the castle as you were. 

Daemon doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t need to. The way he looks out upon the view of the bay below tells you everything you need to know. He does. 

“You’ve never travelled far then?” He asks, effectively deflecting the conversation from both the topic of himself and back onto you. He was quite good at that, deflecting probing questions about his person. Daemon was a relatively private man, not that there was anything wrong with that. 

You let out a rather unladylike breath and clasped your hands together around the pomegranate. 

“I’ve not been past the castle gates, my Prince,” you replied sadly, eyes flitting to the castle walls below. You’d been here your whole life. It was too dangerous, supposedly, to travel far. Especially when the common folk were unhappy. Or so father says. 

You do not miss the slight furrow of his brow, but it is smoothed only moments later. He takes a breath in and turns back to you. 

“Now that is a shame,” he clicks his tongue. “Perhaps I should sneak you out of the castle one night and show you what fun you can have in the city below.” 

Your eyes widen comically at the thought, and you find yourself spluttering at the proposition. Underneath the inbuilt horror response to the idea of leaving the castle, however, you consider what you might see if you were to accept. 

Taverns and drunkards laughing and singing their songs? Market-goers scrambling for the best price on a rare fruit? Or perhaps dog fights? You knew, of course, there were also far less enjoyable things happening on the streets below, but they didn’t sit right on your mind, so you attempted not to picture them. 

“Perhaps,” you reply amicably. “Though what I would truly love to see is over the Narrow Sea. Other lands…” Your smile turns upwards slightly. “Doesn’t that sound exciting?” 

Daemon chuckles, keeping a close eye on you. Then here’s there, in your space, crowding you against the banisters and twirling a piece of your hair around his finger playfully. 

“Would I be permitted to call on you tomorrow?” He asks devilishly, eyes glinting in such a way that tells you that he doesn’t much care what your father thinks about calling on you. All you need to do is say yes. “We could take a stroll in the gardens, or… perhaps-”

Your mouth makes a sound, and you have to stop yourself from interrupting him. The words die on his tongue and he nods his head for you to continue. 

“I do apologise, your Grace,” you rush out. “It’s just… would you perhaps take me to the Dragon Pit? I should love to see your dragon.”

His expression appears familiar, as though this is a request he has heard before. 

“I don’t think your father would take too kindly to me taking his eldest daughter to the Dragon Pits, my lady,” he replied amusedly, lips twitching. 

“It will be our little secret,” you hush back, biting back a laugh. Daemon seems to like this, the idea of a secret between you. 

“Allow me to walk you back to your chambers, my lady,” Daemon says, reaching for your book and letting the ringlet of hair go. The action sends a shiver down your spine but you allow him to do so. You thank him for the kind offer and the both of you set off towards your family's chambers. 

It’s a short walk, which is a shame, but you find yourself giddy at the prospect of what the morning may bring. 

When you reach your chambers, your father is waiting for you, watching the moon draw darkness through the windows. The hour is late and he was worried for you, and when he sees Daemon kiss your hand goodbye with the promise of seeing you tomorrow, his eyes narrow in suspicion. 

“You won’t mind, will you, my lord?” Daemon feigns the question, knowing that as the Prince, he cannot say no. “If I call upon your daughter again tomorrow?” 

Your father agrees to it, but he doesn’t look overly pleased. He’s aware of Daemon’s reputation as well, clearly. 

You bid Daemon good night, thank him once again for the pomegranate and set about your routine before you retire for the evening. You do not, however, expect to get much if any sleep tonight, though. 

Tomorrow you meet a dragon. Daemon Targaryen’s dragon, no less. 

What more could a girl ask for?

[marlynnofmany]

Unexpected Blue

The ship’s engine changed pitch suddenly, and before I could worry about it, the intercom binged with an announcement from the captain.

“We’re making a brief detour,” she said. “A different courier didn’t quite make it to their destination, and they need us to do the dropoff. Should be an easy one. Mur and Robin, you’re next up.” 

So I was. Dang. I’d thought I had some time before the next delivery, but it looked like reading in the crew lounge would have to wait. I turned back toward my quarters, leaving the sound of Telly purring under the heat lamp behind me. She’d probably still be there when I was done. I left my reading tablet in my quarters and hurried to the cockpit.

Captain Sunlight was already talking to Mur while Kavlae took us in for a landing. The view on the main screen was eyecatching: a nearby sun brighter than the captain’s scales, and something exceptionally reflective on the barren landing pad.

Is that the other ship? I thought, squinting. Ow.

Kavlae muttered about manufacturing regulations and adjusted the screen’s filters. The view dimmed, but not to the point where she couldn’t see where to land.

Mur huffed. “I don’t trust the judgement of anyone who flies one of those.” Several of his tentacles were crossed in irritation, with others tapping on the floor.

“I have my reservations as well,” said the captain. “But this delivery is both small and urgent, and they’re offering a more than reasonable cut of their rates. I understand the item is farming supplies of some sort. Needed in a hurry.” She glanced up at the view of the approaching landing pad. A figure in an exo suit waited outside the other ship. “Let’s hurry to the airlock.”

We hurried. I had the easiest time of it, walking at my normal long-legged pace while Captain Sunlight trotted along with dignity and Mur was a whirl of tentacles. We made it there as the engines whined a landing.

The nearest intercom beeped, and Kavlae’s voice spoke from the single speaker. “Ready? Our contact here looks ready to hand over the item.” 

Captain Sunlight pressed the button and spoke back. “Go ahead.”

On the other side of the door, air whooshed and the outer hatch opened. I peered over the captain’s head to see somebody in an exo suit step inside, place a box on the floor, then run back outside and wave at us.

The hatch closed while the captain made a thoughtful sound. Air wooshed again.

Through the intercom, Kavlae said, “They’ve transferred a good-faith payment and another message to hurry. I’ve already scanned for known contagion. Grab it and I’ll take off.” 

When our door opened, Captain Sunlight strode in and picked up the medium-sized white plastic box, then carried it out into the hallway, checking every side for damage. A gust of cold air followed, and the door slid shut behind her. Engine pitch said we were rocketing into space again. Good old artificial gravity meant I didn’t have to give it a moment’s thought. I could focus on the mystery item instead.

“So how close is — Wait, is that a timer?” I asked as I caught a glimpse of a digital readout on the far side of the box. The numbers were awfully low. Minutes.

“Yes,” said Captain Sunlight tersely. “Kavlae is hurrying. We’re going to land somewhere unofficial; be prepared to hop down if there isn’t a suitable landing pad and she has to hover.”

“Is it a farm?” I asked, thinking back to the earlier conversation.

“Do we need exo suits?” Mur asked. That was a better question.

Captain Sunlight shook her head. “No, the moon we’re headed to has standard air. The first delivery ship crashed on one that doesn’t. They almost reached the right one, then had a power failure. Assistance is some ways out.”

Mur wove his tentacles together in a new way that looked just as judgmental as the last. “Of course they had a power failure. They’re lucky they didn’t give that moon a new crater.”

“Their poor choice in transportation is not our problem,” declared the captain. “This is.” She handed the box to me. It was surprisingly light, though something slid inside when I tilted it to look at the timer.

That was a really short amount of time. “What happens if we’re late?” I asked.

Mur scowled. “That had better not be one of those fertilizer bombs.”

“The client said specifically that it’s not explosive,” Captain Sunlight told him.

“That’s just what someone hoping to trick us into doing something dangerous would say,” Mur replied.

“They had a respectable rating. Well. Respectable enough for someone with a delivery vehicle that breaks down if you look at it wrong.”

“There’s no way to look at it right.”

The intercom beeped. “Coming in for a landing,” Kavlae reported. “Farms and ranches, as promised, with permission from the property owner to hover over the road in front of her house. Air and weather are good. Be ready to run.” 

Captain Sunlight pressed the button with a look at us. “Ready.” She stood to the side.

Mur grumbled, “Do we really need two people for this? It’s a one-person carry.”

“Best to follow protocol,” the captain told him. “And you get to catch it if she trips.”

“Hey, that happened one time,” I objected.

“This would be a bad time for twice.”

“Good point.”

Mur sighed dramatically, but took a position next to me at the airlock. In moments, the engines made their hovering-but-not-landing whine, and both doors opened.

Reddish dirt road, gray and yellow bushes, a domed house with ridges that looked like a seashell plopped on the ground, and several other fences and whatnot that I didn’t have time to take in.

There were seconds left on the timer, and a long driveway to run down.

As I tucked the box against my side and placed a hand on the doorstep, I felt the disturbing sensation of something moving inside of it. I jumped down and took the box firmly in both hands. It almost jumped out of my grasp.

Mur saw. “It’s moving?” He leapt after me with a plop. “Is it a faulty auto-drill? Those are dangerous! Don’t hold it too close to you!”

From the airlock, Captain Sunlight called, “Run!”

I gritted my teeth, held it at arm’s length, and ran towards the farmhouse. The sun reflected hot off the architecture, the wind in my face was hotter, and whatever was in the box jolted eagerly against the side. I desperately hoped that I wasn’t about to get a drill through my hand.

But the client was there on the front step waiting for me: a middle-aged Frillian woman wearing overalls that looked like they’d been a deep space jumpsuit once, cut to shape with gardening shears. Her frills were waving happily. Good sign.

“Just in time!” she declared as I skidded to a stop, holding the box with the timer toward her. She plucked it from my grasp. I caught my breath and tried not to look too relieved.

Tentacles slapping dirt told me Mur had joined us. I focused on breathing evenly and wondering what the client was about to do with that knife.

Without a word, she sliced the box open as easily as if it was cardboard and not industrial shipping plastic. That was some knife. But she didn’t open it; she clapped a hand on the top to keep it shut while she sheathed the knife at her belt. With the way the box was jumping, I was impressed she hadn’t cut her fingers.

When she moved forward with purpose, I danced aside to let her pass. Mur scrambled out of the way. The client strode over to a fenced-in area that had mesh over the top, looking something like a large chicken coop. She bumped a latch with an elbow, opened a little door, then shoved the box through and dumped its contents onto the ground.

Something round, brown, and furry tumbled free.

Mur asked, “Is that an animal?”

When it stopped rolling and stayed perfectly round, I said, “It looks like a coconut.”

It jumped some more, prompting Mur to guess again. “Is it an egg with fur?”

The client just grinned at us, clearly enjoying this.

I thought wildly of Mexican jumping beans back on Earth, and the larva that grew inside. Surely not.

The thing stopped jumping and kind of wiggled in place, and I heard a scratching sound. There was a flash of motion on the far side of it. Amazed, I stepped to the side for a better look. The client joined me, and so did Mur. The three of us watched a small blue creature crawl out of a hole in the nut, then spread its wings for what had to be the first time. It looked like a feathery moth the size of a kite, with a row of crab legs along the front. The feathers shone iridescent blue in the sun.

The client tutted beside me. “It’s not ultramarine at all! Those liars. I am going to tell everyone. What a waste. Just another blue.” She tapped the wire mesh with a palm. “Hey all, come meet your new friend!”

The bushes along the edge of the coop that I hadn’t been paying attention to — the ones I’d subconsciously assumed were covered in big blueish leaves — exploded into a cloud of vivid blue wings. They swirled around the coop before coming to land on every available surface, fanning their wings in the sun. It was a glorious sight.

“I really hoped to breed some ultramarines,” the client said with a sigh. “Oh well, maybe I can find a reputable seller next season. Thanks for the rush delivery. You’ve got a feather on you.”

“What?” I asked, but she was already plucking it out of my hair and handing it to me.

“Keep it if you like; my stock is carefully screened for everything. Oh, and you’ve got — well, that’s valuable stuff in some circles.”

She was talking to Mur now. I looked down to see my squidlike crewmate covered in a fine dusting of blue iridescence. A glance at the feather showed it to be trailing similar dust across my fingers.

Mur said, “I shall take that under advisement,” then he began tentacle-walking back toward the ship with as much dignity as he could muster.

Normally I would have had the client sign for the delivery, but this one was a rush job without the usual paperwork. “You’ve been in touch with our ship, right? Got everything settled?”

“Yes, I authorized the payment when you got here,” she said. “Your pilot assured me all was well, and she was right.” She glanced back at the coop full of blue. “Well, as right as can be. I should have known not to trust a breeder who flies that brand of ship.”

“Was that the actual person you bought it from?” I asked, thinking of the silver disaster. “Not another delivery company?”

She waved a hand. “He does a lot of things. Never sticks with any of them long enough to get anywhere. Like I said, I should have known.”

“If it makes you feel any better, he’s currently broken down on a cold moon with the repair services a ways out.”

She smiled. “That does make me feel better. Thank you. Now I must be off to warn everyone else not to believe that liar, and you should make sure your friend there gets all of that off. I’m told his species doesn’t react well to it.”

“Good to know, thank you. I’m sure our medic will be all over it.”

“The extra dust will brush off that easily enough,” she told me, pointing at the feather. “Goodbye!”

I said my goodbyes and more thanks, and hurried after Mur. I carefully dusted off the feather as I went, leaving a trail of brilliant blue glittering in the breeze.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[syoddeye]

down the hatch 5 / je ne sais quoi

141 x f!reader | ~1.8k | series page tags: spanking, anger issues, big emotions, bad jokes a/n: banner by @/cafekitsune.

somewhere between swats fourteen and fifteen, a thought interrupts the fuzzy broadcast of your brain to scream—this is what gaz was missing.

the je ne sais quoi. the hate.

gaz isn’t a fan, you think, but he doesn’t loathe you. john, on the other hand? it’s almost inspiring.

if you’re going to spank someone, you gotta mean it, y’know?

the pain and shock melt into a stinging numbness. from the ragged breaths above, it sounds like john’s losing steam with every swing. big idiot probably thinks you’ll come out of this all docile, ready to fall into line like his three stooges.

you twist your head, smearing your cheek through drool, and point a grin over your shoulder.

“put your back into it, old man.”

he winds up, arm high, and holds it. “you’re a brat.”

then it comes down harder than the others, and you screech.

spots flash in your eyes when you force them open, hissing and spitting at him. “and the sky is blue, at lease i think it still is, but i wouldn’t fucking know since you won’t let me out!”

john freezes, hand raised, but he doesn’t bring it down this time. his nostrils flare, his jaw tightens. “is that why you’re acting like this? feelin’ cooped up?”

you scoff. “for starters, i’m ‘acting like this’ because four commandos broke into my house and they’re holding me hostage.”

“we’re not keeping you prisoner.”

“why else would you keep someone on the door all the damn time, then? huh? you think i don’t know what’s going on? keeping me locked in here like some fucking animal.”

he laughs, like he can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. he tightens his grip on your wrist where it’s pressed to your tailbone. “so no one else comes in.” his eyes narrow. “you want to see the great fuckin’ outdoors? i’ll take you myself.”

with that, he releases your wrist, yanks your shorts up hard, and lands one last swat for good measure.

you roll over, ready to throw out a colorful comment, but he cuts you off, thrusting a finger down at you.

“no more hidin’ in here. i expect to see you at breakfast. at all meals. got it?”

you get why he’s in charge. the less-fun type of screamer. a permanently angry dad.

still. you won’t sit comfortably for a week.

you raise a hand in mock salute, throwing on a chipper tone. “yes, sir. understood, sir.”

john looms for a second longer, red-faced and breathing heavy. makes you think you’ve earned round two, but instead, he turns on heel. he flicks the light, stomps through the door, and slams it shut behind him.

someone snickers through the duct tape plastered over the vent. assholes.

the urge to cry wells up out of nowhere, tickling your throat and stinging your eyes. you choke it down. you haven’t cried since the early days, and you won’t start now. not over some egotistical, power-tripping has-been.

so, you take it out on your pillow. punches first. then screaming.

nobody laughs at that.

the next day, you slink into the kitchen. gaz elbows soap before he can say something stupid, and you grab your share of the canned corned beef hash. you eat at the end of the counter, ignoring them all.

when john finally shows, he doesn’t even acknowledge you. the bruises on your ass throb at the sight of him.

miserable fucker.

they discuss their plans. ghost and gaz are heading out on a scavenging trip with a list of parts to gather for communication equipment they apparently looted off of corpses. they’ll be gone a few days.

soap’s on maintenance. closest thing they’ve got to an engineer. figures. he’s the only one curious—or dumb enough—to stick his hands into wires and pipes. not a surprise, considering where else you’ve seen him stick his hands.

john declares he’s on ‘babysitting duty.’

you don’t look up. not even when all attention shifts toward you.

you stab a chunk of hash and chew instead.

as the others head off, john lingers. hovers. too close. invading your space, the wretch.

“when you’re done, get dressed. sleeves and jeans, if you got them.”

when you don’t respond, he bends and angles his face into your line of sight. that big, stupid smile stretches, lifting his cheeks and squishing his eyes. and ghost called you unsettling.

“if you don’t want to go outside, you can scrub the latrine. make yourself useful.”

you roll your eyes, hating the surge of interest. you didn’t think he was serious about that offer.

all you have for bottoms are leggings. your jortcraft apparently shortsided. you shove socks into the toes of a pair of men’s boots and dig out an atrocious ask about my wiener schnitzel shirt. 

john gives you one long, judgmental once-over that says everything. he would’ve thrived as a retail sales clerk in the before times. but he deems you ready.

the hatch is a sight up close again.

that first day, it took you hours to free yourself from the bunkroom where the austrian locked you up. of course, your first instinct had been to get the fuck out, but you’d felt the heat radiating off the bulkhead. decided you liked having hands. skin and eyeballs. you don’t think you could’ve opened it alone, anyway.

nerves. a mild case of bubblegut. too many feelings for just staring at a damn door.

john breaks a sweat turning the wheel, muttering under his breath about ghost closing it too tight. you bite back a laugh when his shoulder pops, and he groans like an old man.

the laugh dies when the first sliver of real light you’ve seen in months filters in.

it burns.

it only opens wide enough for the two of you to slip out, and just as you step forward, john stops you.

“wait here. i’ll whistle.” 

you hadn’t really noticed the firepower he was packing when you followed him to the entrance. too busy imagining how you could poison him with dehydrated eggs. the handgun looks small in his grip, almost like a toy, but his expression is anything but playful. you thought he was serious before, now he looks deadly.

he rounds the edge of the door, disappearing into the light and up the short flight of steps. his footsteps fade.

a minute stretches out.

then, a whistle.

shielding your face as you climb the steps, you figure this must be what astronauts felt like returning to earth. 

(shit. you hadn’t thought about that. was anyone still up there?) 

the crusty puddle that used to be your neighbor is easy enough to avoid. squinting ahead, you spot john waiting near the garden gate. you glance back, staring into the entrance of what’s been your home for months. and just like that, you can’t help but wonder how your actual home is doing.

you haven’t thought about your rental in a long time. like after a fire or flood, there came a point where you had to stop. let go. you were already going crazy, no need to add fuel.

so what if your beloved magnet collection is goo? your baby photos dust? your grandmother’s ring? your mom’s guitar?

it’s fine. dandy. peachy keen. what are physical belongings, anyway?

chin high, shoulders squared, so cool and unaffected, you approach john. that act crumbles the moment your gaze shifts. while the austrian’s house is as charred and wrecked as you expected, beyond it…

devastation. ruin as far as you can see. broken and burnt buildings. pulverized cars. rubble and debris everywhere. 

john carries on like it’s just another beautiful day in the neighborhood, quietly narrating his plans as he scans over the fence. “thought i’d take you a street over. saw a clothing store. could look for some things that fit.”

you don’t really hear him. you’re too busy marinating in the awfulness that surrounds your hidey hole. and even though you already know what to expect when you finally, slowly, turn toward where your block used to be, your jaw still drops.

all those stupid crunches and jumping jacks finally pay off. pure, unadulterated instinct.

you duck under john’s outstretched arm and break into a run. painful, considering your bruised glutes.

john’s yelling behind you—definitely obscenity-laced, probably a threat, he’ll probably kill you—but you don’t hear him.

doesn’t matter.

you only stop when your legs give out at the end of the street, collapsing into a jog, and that’s when he catches you. scruffs you like a dog.

you’re pointing, blabbering nonsense, brain short-circuiting as you gesture wildly at the fucking crater where your building used to be.

john doesn’t entertain your mental breakdown. his head’s on a swivel the whole time he drags you back. gaz and ghost are already there, standing with their packs. soap, too. he’s the one who hooks an arm around your middle to help john corral you inside.

déjà vu hits hard. big hand over your mouth. bad breath whispering in your ear.

you hope soap doesn’t take it personally when you knee him in the balls at the bottom of the entry steps before tearing off into the bunker. 

even if he doesn’t, john sure as hell does. 

because he’s hot on your heels, and he catches the door when you get to your room.

“what the hell were you doin’? you could’ve been seen, could’ve been shot at—”

your head’s a mess. a whirlpool, no—one of those shitty carnival rides that spin until someone pukes. you don’t even know where it’s coming from. you’ve been cool. good. kept your shit together for months. made peace with the fact the world was over. it’s not like the austrian scooped someone beloved off the streets. not like anyone would’ve been looking for you.

but seeing every trace of your little life wiped off the map?

that’s a different fucking story.

john’s on a rampage. blocking the exit, watching you pace. “you’ve compromised our location. we’ve been careful with our entries and exits, and you—”

it’s their fault. all of it.

if they hadn’t come along and cracked the bunker open, you could’ve died here. in peace. from starvation. oxygen deprivation. whatever the cause. maybe a month from now or years down the line. crazy, delirious, probably a full-time nudist, but at least ignorant. in the dark.

a hand touches your shoulder. you violently shrug it off, spinning on john.

his face is no longer red with anger but something else—concern? pity? gross.

there’s spit on your lips. you’re hoarse. so much for keeping your cool. you’ve been screaming at him.

three seconds of blistering humiliation. then you’re shoving him, harder than you should. must be adrenaline, because he goes with it. you slam the door.

then, silence.

you stand there, breath ragged, waiting.

waiting for him to knock. to kick the door down. to shout through the crack.

but nothing comes, just the shuffle of boots moving away.

you press your forehead against the door, fists clenched tight. your stomach twists with something unfamiliar. distant, almost forgotten. even before all this. 

regret.

[kyseya]

The octopus

The octopus-hybrid Octavious

This octopus hybrid was born in the large aquarium he called home. It’s all he’s ever known. Despite the vast variation in plants and spacious tank he lives in having been built with an octopus’s natural habitat in mind, he has no clue how it is in the real ocean. Is it the same? Or is it much different. He wouldn’t know.

However, he can’t help but wonder. Sometimes he catches himself drifting off to somewhat macabre scenarios in his mind. He’ll think about whether he would be able to survive in the sea as he is now, or would he easily get eaten by a much larger predator. He tries not to delve into the latter scenario.

As octopuses are mostly solitary creatures the aquarium decided to put him in a tank of his own. From what he can recall(and heard from the workers of the aquarium) he has many siblings- none he was close to of course. They were taken to other facilities right after hatching. Perhaps they also sit in a watery tank contemplating their existence. Or maybe they’re dead. Octavious can say for sure that his mother is dead though. When an octopus female lays eggs, she stops eating and dedicates the rest of her life to protect her eggs.

Octavious doesn’t let that fact rule his life however. Just like with his siblings, he didn’t ever get to know any of them.

In the first years of his life he never found the solidarity uncomfortable. It was quite the opposite. He enjoyed his alone time. He was fed and he was safe, that’s what mattered the most. Too bad he’s the aquariums only octopus hybrid. The visitors often want to take a look at him and get impatient whenever he doesn’t show himself. He wish he could ask them how they would feel about getting gawked at everyday. If that were the case, they would also hide away in their privat cave.

He really, really disliked the humans pressing their face to the glass, trying to sneak a peek at him. He’d probably say he has an antagonistic view of every human.

That is, before he met you. You were one of the new caretakers hired by the zoo and that was obvious by how you messed up and clumsily moved about in the beginning. At forst he believed you to be another annoying human but you proved him wrong. You were so kind and patient. You never got mad when he refused to show himself whenever it was feeding time. You never tried to force him to interact with the visitors.

It took a while before he felt ready to talk to you. He had imagined you frowning and scurrying away because of how he ignored you during all you previous encounters. But you didn’t. Instead you smiled and greeted him cheerfully. The two of you spoke every chance you got and slowly you scene an irreplaceable part of his life.

He realised he didn’t simply like you as a caretaker or a mere friend; he wanted more. He wanted to be your mate.

He understands that there is a whole ‘you live on land and he lives in water’- thing but he is able to stay above the surface for a certain amount of time, plus he also has his own private cave only he can access. It’s above water so you can be there and be completely fine. It’s not a big problem.

Octavious often dreams about you staying in his cave with him. You could talk forever without anyone interrupting and you could cuddle and play to your hearts extent. There would be no one to take away your attention from him. Being someone who usually shies in the opposite direction of attention, this is really confusing him.

But he doesn’t mind it, no. He loves you after all! Octavious will do anything to be your only mate.

[fatkish]

If you're still taking requests.

How would Endeavor and Hawks react to a broody (like when chickens are incubating eggs) phoenix child reader only to find out that the eggs in the nest are fertilized?

I hope that makes sense.

Whose the father? That’s their immediate reaction

After all, you couldn’t have fertilized them yourself

Any time Hawks tries to get near your nest, you immediately start trying to attack him

Enji has to hold you back so you don’t kill him

Hawks is not allowed near you since you attack him

For the sake of this to make sense, let’s just say that Tokoyami is the father. Or at least, he fertilized the eggs.

Hawks and Enji had no idea that you and Tokoyami were so close

You built a nest of blankets, sheets, pillows and clothes. You have two eggs that are fertile

Tokoyami has to bring you food and water since you refuse to move from your eggs.

You shed a lot of your flight feathers and have grown feathers that are slightly more downy and soft. The shed feathers are tucked into your nest

You have a heat lamp in your room that you use to keep the eggs warm when you leave to use the bathroom

You never leave the eggs for more than 30 minutes, ever

Natsuo checks the eggs often to see how they’re developing

Since your instincts are strong, you ‘decide’ to keep the babies. Not like your instincts would let you get rid of them

It takes 7 months in total for the babies to grow and hatch. In that time, Fuyumi and Natsuo are bragging about how their going to be Aunts and Uncles.

Shoto asks questions about the eggs and helps you plan for their future, where their rooms will be, how you plan to raise them, etc

Everyone in the Todoroki family already considers the reader as their sibling so they see themselves as the Aunts and Uncles of the reader’s eggs

Enji is stoked and yet horrified to be a granddad. He knows he was a terrible father to his own kids and he’s terrified that he’s gonna ruin his chances with his grandchildren, if he’s even allowed in their lives

Hawks is stoked and is already bragging about his niece and nephew, assuming the eggs are a boy and girl (you can change the babies’s genders) he’s gotten them so many gifts already and even plans out how to help raise them

Once the fetuses start to move and you feel it, you tell Tokoyami. He’s amazed and is slightly teary eyed. Dark shadow is bawling his eye out and proclaiming that he’ll never leave the eggs’s sides

Shoto just stares with a slightly amazed look and a soft smile when he feels the eggs move. Fuyumi is excited and happily smiles while giggling as tears run down her face. Natsuo just smiles and talks about what you might have to expect and writes down what’s happening for his medical experience and references

When the babies finally hatch it’s at 3:42 am in the morning. The babies are 6 1/2 lbs each

It takes 3 more months of you constantly taking care of them for them to fully absorb their yolk sacs, grow to standard baby weights, start suckling and to start developing feathers

Sorry if it’s short. If you want a part 2 of this or want to hear about the babies growing up, leave a comment please and thank you