#they're such angsty bastards
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fernlessbastard ¡ 6 days ago
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It is gay month and I come back to life with some very very old Pogtopia art hi 👍
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This was made shortly-ish after my partner got a tablet which I have been stealing every now and again
I've gotten SO much better since.... But oh well all content is content and I wanna wake up my account a little bit lmao
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littlelovelunette ¡ 1 month ago
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Hey mum ^7^ think I could trouble you for some pit fighter!Vi bouncing back after Cait with a bartender!reader?
-🍺
Drinks On Me
Pitfighter!Vi x Bartender!Reader
SUMMARY: Vi goes deep into the drunk dive after breaking up with Caitlyn and now she fights and drinks all day. You're a hotshot bartender in the Undercity, who many have tried to charm yet failed. Seeing Vi the way she was stirs pity in your heart, but then she tries to use you as her rebound girlfriend. You see right through it, and call her out on it. For a few days, she doesn't leave the slumps of her apartment and doesn't even try to urge a fight here and there as she reflects on everything she'd done. Does she apologise? Or is her ego too high for that?
Word Count: 2.2k . . .
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Angsty, heavy drinking, violence, clothed sex, fingering, sucking/licking said fingers, pitfighter!dom!Vi, sex in a public bathroom.
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The clinking of glasses and the sound of pouring drinks filled your senses as you clocked in for your shift. It was the usual— making drinks for drunken bastards who thought it was super cool to flirt with the hotshot bartender.
“Hey,” Kyle, the bartender who worked the same nights you did greeted you and stood beside you.
“Hiya, Kyle,” you looked at him, his face set in a grin, “What's up?” You asked curiosity as you wiped down the counter with a rag.
“Nothin’, I just heard there's apparently some pitfighter coming today. Won quite a few rounds herself.” You raised a brow.
“Herself? It's a girl?” you put the rag away.
“What? Are you saying girls don't know how to fight?” Kyle asked in a joking tone, you knew he was messing around.
You snorted. “I've seen all sorts of fighters in Zaun, just caught a little off-guard though. You gotta say, even though there are so many girls in Zaun who know they're way around a gun or a fist, the number is still scarce.”
Kyle nodded with a laugh, “Yeah, gotta agree to that.”
“When's she coming?” You asked, glancing at the clock on the wall as you prepared a drink for that one rich customer who came in and always ordered the same thing, yet tipped you well.
The bar door slammed open, a woman with black dyed hair walked in. She was hot, her chest bound tightly which looked unhealthy even and a black jacket. Her beautiful blue eyes locked with yours, and you knew she was drunk already. She slumped down in front of you at the bar. Your eyes caught onto her facial tattoo, it spelled ‘Vi’.
You set the drink down in front of the rich guy, barely paying him any mind as you turned your full attention to the newcomer. She reeked of alcohol and blood, a combination you weren’t unfamiliar with in Zaun, but still enough to make you raise an eyebrow.
“Rough night?” you asked casually, grabbing a clean glass and setting it in front of her.
Vi smirked lazily, slumping forward onto the bar, resting her chin in her hand. "You could say that," she slurred slightly, her fingers tapping against the wood. “Whatcha’ got that's strong?”
Kyle gave you a look like ‘good luck with this one’ before busying himself at the other end of the bar. You wiped your hands on a towel and leaned forward a little, studying her. There were bruises forming along her knuckles— fresh. She hadn't even bothered to tape them properly.
“You look like you need something that'll either kill you or save you,” you said with a teasing grin.
Vi barked a laugh, tossing a few crumpled bills onto the bar. “Whatever kills me faster.”
You liked her already. Pouring a double shot of the strongest rotgut the bar had, you slid it across to her.
“This might burn a hole through your stomach, so... cheers.”
She took it without hesitation, knocking it back in one go, slamming the glass down hard enough to rattle nearby bottles. Her eyes watered a bit, but she gave you a wicked grin that sent a shiver up your spine.
“You got a name, bartender?” she asked, voice rough.
You leaned on your elbows, smirking right back at her. “Depends. You gonna cause trouble if I give it to you?”
Vi chuckled, a deep sound that vibrated in her chest. “Nah. Trouble already found me tonight.”
Before you could answer, some drunken idiot down the bar shouted something obscene aimed at you. Typical. You barely flinched, already used to brushing it off. Vi, on the other hand, twisted around slowly on her stool, her blue eyes narrowing dangerously at the guy. She cracked her knuckles, the sound sharp in the heavy air.
“No need,” you said, grabbing Vi’s wrist out of instinct, “It's okay.”
“But he—”
“It’s okay,” you repeated more firmly than before.
Vi rolled her eyes but remained seated, rolling her shoulders and leaning closer to the bar, the stool creaking a little under her weight. The bruises on her knuckles were so raw and split, you couldn't help feeling your stomach churn at the sight.
“Ugh, let me just—” you examined her hand, grabbing the first aid kit under the bar and taking some antiseptic out to disinfect the bruises. “Kyle, can you watch my tables?”
“Sure thing.”
Your hands worked gently against Vi’s calloused fingers, cleaning up the split knuckles, “Let me know if it stings too hard,” you said in a soft tone, dabbing the cotton soaked with antiseptic onto her knuckles. Vi wanted to wince but she didn't, her eyes fixed on the way your pretty face twisted in concentration— bottom lip tucked under your teeth and everything.
“I'm Vi,” she said, tilting her head, “And thanks.” you glanced up at her and gave her your name, pressing a little on the bruise making her wince.
“Sorry…” you reached down and got some bandages for her, patching her fist up. “Give it some actual time to heal, okay?”
“Yeah, whatever.” Vi pulled her wrist back, clinking the empty glass on the bar surface, “Refill, princess.”
“I'm on a clock, Vi!” You giggled when she nipped onto your neck, leaving dark hickeys and bite marks all over the skin of your neck, your collarbones adorned with the marks of ownership. Her hands clutched your waist tightly, fingers digging into the skin needily.
“Fuck, you're so pretty,” Vi’s lips found yours, pressing against them roughly as her teeth grazed your bottom lip. She bit down there making it swell a little but it only aroused you more.
You moaned throatily when Vi’s fingers pressed against your crotch through your clothes, “Vi, please.”
“Please what, hmm?” Vi teased you, fingers starting to rub against your clothed crotch, her eyebrow raised in amusement.
“Please, I need your fingers.” you rutted against her digits, yearning to feel them stretching you out.
Vi chuckled darkly against your mouth, the vibrations of her laugh sending another wave of heat pooling in your core.
“Needy little thing, aren’t ya’?” she murmured, voice husky with amusement and want. Without warning, her hand slipped past the waistband of your pants, fingers brushing teasingly against your slick folds. She groaned loudly when she felt how wet you already were for her.
“Shit, you're soaked,” she growled, her thumb circling your clit in slow, torturous strokes while two of her fingers toyed at your entrance.
Your head dropped forward, forehead resting against hers as you tried to keep yourself steady, trying not to completely fall apart right there behind the bar.
“Vi,” you whimpered brokenly, your hips rolling against her hand. “Please, don't tease.”
“Since you asked so nicely…” Vi muttered, and without any more warning, she pushed two fingers deep inside you.
You gasped, body jerking slightly at the sudden stretch, your walls fluttering desperately around her rough digits. She didn't give you time to adjust either, she immediately set a hard, unrelenting pace, her palm grinding against your clit with each thrust. Your hands flew to her shoulders, fingers digging into the leather of her jacket, desperate for something to hold onto as she wrecked you with quick, brutal strokes.
“You feel so fuckin' good,” Vi rasped against your ear, pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, dragging her teeth across the already bruised flesh she'd marked earlier. “You’re mine tonight, got it? Nobody else touches you but me.”
You couldn't even form words at this point, only desperate, broken moans and whimpers leaving your lips as she drove you closer and closer to the edge. The loud chatter and clinking of the bar faded into a blur. It was just you and her— the pounding of your heartbeat and the obscene, wet sounds of Vi's fingers plunging into you the only things that existed. Your thighs trembled violently, your nails scraping down her back as you felt yourself spiraling, your release coiling tighter in your gut.
“Vi— I'm gonna—”
“Go on, princess,” she urged, her thumb pressing harder against your clit, her voice a low, rough promise. “Cum for me. Make it messy.”
With a desperate cry muffled against her shoulder, you shattered, your body tensing and then convulsing around her fingers. Vi cursed under her breath, slowing her movements only slightly, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm until you slumped against her, spent and shaking. She finally pulled her fingers out slowly, making you whimper at the sensitivity, and brought them to her lips, sucking your taste off them with a satisfied hum.
You returned to work and Vi returned to her apartment, drunk. It was always like this and went on for Janna-knows-how-long. You didn't put a label on the both of you because you saw her as a fling, mainly because you were scared of getting attached to her. You still had no idea what had gone down with her and Caitlyn. All you knew was that they were together until they weren't anymore. You wished there was a way you'd know why they didn't workout, was there any underlying factor with Vi as a person or was it because oil and water don't mix?
“Maybe I'm just her rebound fling,” you snorted in laughter, pouring whiskey in a glass.
“Nah, I doubt that,” Kyle was expertly pouring beer for the gambling folks, “She don't seem like the type to chase sex.”
“Don't seem?” You laughed.
“Yeah… her thing with Caitlyn was pr-etty solid.” Kyla said dragging the ‘pretty’, “She really loved that enforcer. Even if it sorta ruined her rep ‘round the Undercity.”
“Tell me ‘bout it…” you sat down at the bar with a groan, “I don't know. I'm just terrified of being played, I guess, so I'm turning her down before she can turn me down.”
“Aren't you being a bit too wary?”
“Aren't you been a bit too dense?”
“Touché.”
The bar door opened and Vi walked in, hair dripping with sweat and water from when she probably aggressively washed her face.
“Hey,” she slipped onto the stool, ordering her usual which your hands were already making.
“Hey.” You mumbled back, giving her her drink. “Vi, we have to talk…” you said, fumbling with the hem of your sleeves. “I didn't know what else was to bring this up, but I just want you to know this—” you gestured between the both of you, “—thing between us is completely, ummm, platonic.”
“Platonic?” Vi looked at you, blue eyes wide as if that's the last thing she expected to hear.
“I mean… ummm.” You looked at your hands. “All we have is sex and it really just feels like you're using my body to get over Caitlyn's.”
“Is that—” Vi took a deep breath.
“I can't be your rebound girlfriend, I'm sorry.” your lips pressed into a thin line and you stared at the bar counter. Vi got off her stool, tossing a few coins for the drink she'd ordered but left untouched. She didn't even spare you one last look before she walked out the bar door and didn't return. You looked at the change on the bar and sighed. She didn't even deny you were her rebound girl...
Kyle, who'd been watching the whole scene, gave your hand a gentle squeeze, “It'll be okay…”
Of course, his words were aimed at comfort and you knew that. It wouldn't be okay. Not unless Vi acknowledged the faults she'd make along the way. She couldn't keep letting Caitlyn’s ex-relationship with her defne the way she viewed… everything.
For the next few days, your eyes always lingered on the door of the bar, pouring alcohol for others but your mind was set on that one idiot pitfighter. Violet. Vi, on the other hand, spent her days rotting away in her apartment and day-drinking. She'd been wondering, “Were my walls up too high again? Or am I just being too protective of my heart?” The mirror that was now cracked and blood dripped from her knuckles, she knew she needed to make change. Soon. Before she lost you to someone else.
One night you saw Kyle coming in with a bright smile, a smile that he always wore whenever something was up.
“What did you do this time?” You asked.
“Why's it you always assume the worst?” Kyle laughed and put on his apron.
“I'm serious.” You crossed your arms, “Tell me!”
Kyle laughed, shaking his head and then gestured to the bar door. Your eyes averted from his and locked on the door. There she was. Vi, but she looked different. No more black hair dye. There was an unusual soft look in her eyes. Her soft blue eyes were filled with someone akin to affection. She had on a red jacket and not black this time. She walked to the bar.
“Words don't cut it,” she was holding a bouquet full of daisies and roses. “But I'm sorry.”
“Did you steal that from someone's garden?” You grinned a little.
“I'm sorry,” Vi pressed on making you laugh.
“So you did steal ‘em!” you laughed and put the rag down that you were cleaning the counter with, “I'll forgive you… under one condition.”
“What's this condition?” Vi asked, the corner of her lip tilting up slightly.
“Kiss me.”
Vi's hand latched onto the collar of your shirt, bringing you over the bar as she kissed you. This kiss, for once wasn't aggressive and rushed between your work breaks. This was real and passionate. It would take time, but you knew she was forgiven for now.
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bamsara ¡ 1 year ago
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trod au ramble u can ignore
when i say slowburn in an enemies to friends to lovers for Trod I mean slowburn. 300k before Narinder even openly admits he cares for the Lamb, and Lamb actually opens up more than just a shield of positivity and another 100k of character growth, drama, complicated intricacies of grief and anger to communication. The Lamb has boundaries and sticks by them constantly in trod, they're not a pushover, but they don't blow up and react in explosive anger the same way that Narinder does and they are mistaken for soft by him for it, when it's him having to be the one who is constantly re-evaluating his priorities and his behavior because the lamb isn't taking shit from him, despite patience and love, and he's put in this position where he's allowing the grief and the hurt to keep hurting himself and the Lamb in the process, until he risks losing them and Narinder makes the active decision to work on himself. They HAD a healthy, wonderful friendship before, he cared for them. He still does. He wishes he didn't but god he still does.
but i dislike when characters do one change or have one realization and suddenly they're super nice. no I want them to be continuously complex. I want their bad habits and miscommunication to not instantly or quickly disappear, I want continuous effort from the wronger. do you hear me. CONTINUOUS EFFORT. that means a character fucking up again and again and relasping and changing and cursing and being like well he doesn't need to be any different because its not his fault then going back and being like. no. it was my fault. i am wronged and I am the wronger. i need complexities. Let us not forget the definition of 'enemy' in the enemies to friends to lovers here. if they start off soft then where is the growth. Where is the room for growth I want. Where is it.
they get to the processing of emotions they haven't allowed themselves to feel properly for centuries to take this friendship gone sour by betrayal, plagued by anger and hurt to something slowly blooming back into trust and care and soft until eventually its this healthy love of these uberly overpowered pair of gods
Trod bad end is when Narinder just speed runs the 'rehabilitation' part of the rehabilitation of death' and it circles back to him going feral in the head. Still an asshole? okay your lamb is gone. regret your pride and ego because the patient love you were afforded is gone forever and the last memory you gave them was not the love you could have given them but it will be the love that destroys mortality to get them back.
amnesia au Narinder is just happy to be here. no betrayal, no angst. eventually when his memory does return and he gets caught pretending he doesn't remember just so he can be sweet to them without his pride in the way will force a conversation that will essentially fix the horrific communication these two have. speedrun trod x2
Current Trod Narinder is a emo angsty bastard who's rightfully hurt at being imprisoned and (in his heart) betrayed by someone he trusted dearly (again) while Post-Trod Narinder is still a feral bastard but with truly un-constipated, true equal love for the Lamb that wears a wedding ring made of his own blood to the tune of 'i miss my wife tails' and got a praise kink
but if its not absolute hell getting to that point then WHAT IS THE POINT
and all these are mostly about Narinder but don't even get me started on the Lamb's issues. That sheep thang is hiding shit.
Except I can't talk about the Lamb's hiding issues Too Much yet unless you've been in my art streams and have seen some of my comics, then IYKYK but aaaaaaaaaaUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHG
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spxllcxstxr ¡ 6 months ago
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At Least in that Life • S
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(Gif not mine)
Request:
Summary: Ekko finds that Silco is alive and well with his wife by his side in the alternate timeline. He feels the need to tell you about it
Warnings: fem!reader (called wife at some points), no pronouns used though I believe, canon death mention, AU mention, implied Timebomb, angsty : ) , mentions of canon unhealthiness that comes with living in the Undercity, timeline is screwy but idc and neither should you LOL
Word Count: 2.3k
A.N: listen, i know he was a little fruity with Vander in the AU BUT i still need this man desperately, don't worry about the timeline i stg, this is actually pretty sad lmao, have fun with it
•
Ekko stares at the man behind the bar; face simultaneously instantly recognizable and drastically changed. The scar was the same mangled mess across one side of his face, but that was where the similarities ended.
In his timeline, Ekko remembers Silco as a cruel bastard with only room in his heart for his wife and Jinx. He never smiled nor ever had reason to. This Silco had a glint of brightness in eyes, even in the orange mutated one, that he would've never associated with the crime lord. The boy stands there, facing the middle-aged man in front of him as he waves his goblet around, body flowing with movement; no strain evident in his posture.
He's talking, Ekko knows this, they're all speaking to him like they aren't either dead or an enemy. But they aren't--these versions of the people he once knew in his own timeline are different.
His eyes drift briefly to you, teeth bared in a smile he hasn't seen since he was a child. You look like that one day, seemingly ages ago, when you kept and eye on him, Powder, and Violet, just days before the uprising. At that point you hadn't been corrupted by the deaths of your closest friends or your husband's vile need for justice. You had a sort of youth to you, though your hair was twinged with greys like Vander's and Silco's, you were practically wrapped around his slender frame, gesturing wildly.
Life had not just been given to Vander, but to you and Silco as well.
His breath hitches and his head throbs with a sharp pain unlike any other.
Ekko squeezes his eyes shut, the vibrancy of the Anomaly imprinted on the backs of his eyelids. Distantly, he hears Powder's voice, like a song in his ear, with a type of kindness he's almost completely forgotten.
When he snaps back to reality, whatever that now meant, he was sitting at a table, away from the bar, with Powder to his right and Mylo and Claggor across from him. They watch him, expecting him to act normal, like he was meant to be here.
"I think you might actually be going crazy," Powder laughs, the sound like a sweet summer breeze as it drifts by him. Her eyes scan over him worriedly.
Ekko swallows roughly, willing the wave of sickness to pass quicker. "I--I'm fine. I think I'll just grab water or something?" Swiftly he rises from his seat, partially unbalanced. He hates that his clothes are a perfect fit and his shoes are comfortable enough he can wiggle his toes around.
He walks to the bar, the sounds of rowdy laughter and girlish giggles surrounding him. The ease of it all is overwhelming.
"What'll you have, Ekko? Your usual?"
Ekko glances at you, taking you in now that you're within arm's reach. The only sign of age are your laugh lines around the corners of your lips. Gone are the sunken, tired eyes and ghastly paleness of skin caused by the contaminated air of the Undercity. You were healthy; sure there were a few scrapes here and there, but your cheeks were filled out, Ekko noticed.
"U-usual?" He manages to croak out before the silence got too concerning.
Obviously worried, your brows furrow and lips purse. "I'll just get you a water then, huh? You're not acting like yourself." You busy yourself, bringing up a glass from the shelf at your knees.
Silco is on the other side of the bar, talking to strangers with Vander. He barks out a laugh, nothing he's ever heard before, and runs his free hand through his already ruffled hair.
The glass clinks on the wooden table in front of him, snapping him out of his trance.
"Are you sure you're ok, Ekko? You don't look so good..." You place the back of your hand to his forehead, reaching over the bartop. The coolness of your skin brings him relief, but he knows you're not going to find he has a high temperature. Physically, he was mostly fine. Mentally, however, was another story.
He thinks about how most of these people are dead men walking or empty shells of their former selves back where he's from. Ekko can't shake the empty feeling he has in his heart.
This was the way things should have been.
"So how are things with you and Silco?" He asks, ignoring your previous question as you bring your hand back to your side.
Leaning against the bar you inspect him for just a moment longer. The boy picks up his glass and almost drains it in one go, which seems to satisfy you for now.
"Me and Sil?" You glance at him quickly, face burning. "We're married, kid, we bicker and are right pricks to each other...but in the end we love each other more than anything in the world. That's how it goes." You sigh, resting your head in one of your hands thoughtfully. "Why do you ask?"
Ekko fiddles with the collar of his shirt. "He just seems so happy. Despite...everything, y'know?"
Lips tilt down slightly in a solemn frown. "It was hard for him, forgiving, that is. He thought we had to endure bloodshed to assert Zaun's rightful existence; he thought it was the only way to get Piltover to listen." Your eyes glance down to the polished wood holding you up. "It was all he knew. And after the incident...after losing our friends and his eye...it was all just a hard pill to swallow."
Silco's laugh once again echoes through the air. You smile immediately, head perking up at the mere noise of your husband. "I never thought I'd see him smile after what we lost--after Vander's wakeup call." Ekko watches as your eyes grow wet with unshed tears. "But here he is, my Silco, living the life he always dreamt of..."
"And you?" Ekko shifts from side to side, feet shuffling below him.
"What about me?" You ask, willing the tears away, busying yourself with wiping the countertop between the two of you.
"Are you happy as well?"
For a moment, you pause, pondering the weight of his question. Ekko, the boy you've come to treat as your son, the boy you trust your Powder with, looks at you like you're not quite right. His eyes gaze into your soul with an intensity that's hard to decipher.
Little moments from your life flash before your eyes; swaying to music with Silco in your kitchen as dinner cooks on the stovetop, you and Vander venturing into Piltover to get more supplies for the bar, Silco's soft gaze and his warm lips against your skin.
"I never thought I could ever be this happy." You tell him truthfully, voice just slightly above a whisper.
Something breaks in his eyes, in his demeanor, but he nods anyway. Something wasn't right--that much was obvious, but before you're able to pick his brain he leaves you at the bar, almost sprinting back to Powder and his friends. She greets him with a smile but her fingers twitch nervously under the table.
With a huff you attend to the other patrons at the bar, occasionally catching Ekko's eye as you walk around your space. He watches you and Silco work in tandem like husband and wife. Even with Ekko's mind already severely overwhelmed with the world around him, he notices when your fingertips purposefully brush when handing glassware over to the other and the small kisses that accompany some flirtatious or loving remark. His head spins and senses buzz with the overload of what could have been.
He leaves without saying goodbye to you or Silco, thought you do call out to him before he exits, you, wrapped in Silco's arms.
"I don't know how to tell you this--or even if I should tell you this." Ekko sits in front of you, tinkering with his hoverboard. Jinx stands feet away, quietly eavesdropping while glancing over blueprints she probably already knows by heart. "But Jinx said you might wanna know."
With a frown already etched into your face, you raise your eyebrows at him. You hadn't spoken to Ekko in years especially since Vander's betrayal of your husband and Vi's abandonment of Jinx. But with Piltover and Zaun under attack, he requested your presence with the Firelights. You parted ways with your husband's right hand man Sevika, hoping that you would see each other again, but predicting that that simply wasn't realistic.
"Just spit it out, kid." You reply, exhaustion lacing your words. Fatigue had infiltrated deep in your bones; Silco's death had taken a large toll on you--you were the last of you little makeshift family alive, though Vander was dead to you long before his final breath left his body.
You were quite the contrast to you counterpart in the alternate timeline. Ekko knew this before, but the accentuated frown lines and lifelessness that surrounded your very being just hit him full force.
He takes a deep breath, cautious of how you were going to react. "I went to an alternate timeline and Silco was alive there." Ekko forces out in one breath.
You stare blankly at the boy, your mind somehow not registering what he was saying.
"That was my reaction too..." Jinx murmurs, her voices echoing in the vastness of her metal lair.
A wave of vertigo washes over you, submerging you in its depths. It's hard to breathe. But somehow you will yourself to stay calm in present company. Now was not the time to be weak.
"An alternate timeline?" You manage to ask weakly, drawing your arms closer to your chest and uneasily wrap them around your frame.
"Don't even ask me to explain it because I don't think I could," Ekko chuckles humorlessly. "But it was a timeline where Zaun and Piltover were at peace, where you could openly cross the bridge and not worry about what would happen to you. Zaun and Piltover thrived together."
You scoff at the notion, shaking your head in disbelief. "Are you sure this wasn't a dream?"
"No. This was real." Ekko's deep brown eyes gaze into yours, something painful swimming in his irises. He's different from the boy you once knew; he's seen something, dealt with something he had lost--had to leave behind. The seriousness laced in his tone convinces you.
You nod, indicating that he can continue as you pick at your nails. You try to brace yourself for whatever he's about to say, but you can't. There was no way to predict what was going to come out of his mouth. But the thought of Silco being alive somewhere kills you inside; your stomach churns and your heart aches for your one and only.
Ekko only sighs before explaining to you what he saw, occasionally pausing to recollect his thoughts or add another component onto his hoverboard.
He tells you about the Silco that could have been--should have been--yours. How his laughter filled the already boisterous main room of The Last Drop, how when a certain song played he would drop everything just to twirl you around behind the bar. Ekko described the brightness of his once clouded eyes and the genuine smile that was always present on his face. Your love was so palpable wherever the two of you went.
Powder confessed once, he told you, while looking over countless notes and equations late at night, that if she were to ever get married, she would want exactly what you and Silco had.
Ekko has you clinging onto each sentence trying to savor each and every word as if you were on your deathbed. You try to picture him in your mind, the greying tousled hair, healthy figure, and tendency to smile. The images are faint against the darkness of your eyelids, blurry from the passage of time.
"He's happy?" You ask quietly.
Ekko nods.
"And am I--Is she happy?" You ask again, stuttering at the thought that this person was not you. You were not the one sharing these intimate moments with your husband; these were strangers, who you could've been.
Again, Ekko nods silently, eyes cast downwards.
You feel your bottom lip start to tremble and tears fight to escape and fall down your cheeks. The lump in your throat grows bigger.
What could've been had haunted you ever since Vander's attack on Silco. It had loomed over you and your husband and suffocated you after his death. To know it was so much sweeter than you ever could have imagined...
Your breathing is uneven when Ekko finally stops talking; other than your labored breath the room was silent. You attempt to collect your thoughts and your emotions but they keep slipping through the cracks between your fingers.
"I shouldn't have told you..." Ekko mutters, apologetically. Eyes swimming with pity, he lays a comforting paint-stained hand on your shoulder. Behind him, Jinx stares blankly down at her boots.
"No it's ok, kid." You sigh, willing away the waves of tears threatening to spill over. "It was good to hear."
"Really?" He looks at you, unconvinced.
"It's good to know that me and Silco get a happy life, y'know?" Your attempt at a small smile partially works, but Ekko can still see the distraught written so clearly all over your face. "One where we can smile and laugh and live. If it couldn't be here, I'm happy it was at least in another lifetime."
Ekko helps you stand, still concerned for you.
With an uneven sigh you turn away from Ekko and Jinx who watch you intently, projects forgotten on the floor or scattered across a small table.
"I need some air." You tell them, ambling slowly to the exit, hoping for the cool polluted air to swallow you whole.
•
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daemonbrain ¡ 3 months ago
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"Anthem for a seventeen year-old girl"
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Summary: After the turbulent year of 2007, your friendship with Satoru Gojo fractures under the responsibilities which separate the two of you. He's pulled on solo missions across the world and you're left vulnerable to schemes of marriage by your clan's elders. Feeling demoralized, you were stupid enough to believe that he would ever abandon you.
3k, cw: angsty, mentions of arranged marriage (between Naoya and reader), fluff, first love, they're both 17, he’s obsessed and loves you too much for this guys stressing this man out :(
a/n: Loosely based on song titled above! Happy reading everyone xx
It was all proprietary. All politics. 
You were a jujutsu sorcerer for god's sake! A first grade at that. This wasn’t what you were meant for. You weren’t meant to be used as a tool for clan schemes.
Yet here you were wilfully submitting to the absurd notion of marrying Naoya Zenin. 
Studying your reflection you scarcely recognize yourself. A year ago your eyes used to gleam with excitement for each day. Now you had the pleasure of staring back at your own lackluster, beady iris’s.
Your cheeks had become more gaunt, only emphasized by the way your hair was tautly pulled back. Dragging a gentle finger across your skin, you check to see if this was all even real. 
It was harder to accept the fact that you let this happen. A few people forget you exist and suddenly you’re on a full on down spiral.
You were instructed to have a natural beauty about you, to cover up the discolored eye bags which took away from your “feminine glow”. Those bastards. They speak as if they hadn’t played a hand in your dreary presence. Product coming out of a damn concealer bottle would never compare to the glow you had after a long day spent with your friends.
The thought made you want to scream and laugh all the same.
After a lengthy training session, everyone slumped on a bench at school, sweaty and tired. The second-hand smoke from Shoko puffing on her cigarettes. You really hated the smell, but couldn’t deny the small smile it brought to your lips remembering the way Shoko would roll her eyes whenever you said “it was bad for her”. She’d stick her tongue out before stomping the thing out after a couple minutes.
“You say smokings gross but make me watch you and Gojo all-” Whirling her arms around, she mimicked the way Satoru “clung” to you in her own words. She looked like she was groping the air. 
Shaking your head, you forcefully pull yourself from the thought of Satoru. You had to block his number a week ago, scared of what he’d say if he found out you were doing this. A part of you was more afraid of the possibility he wouldn’t say anything at all. He had left for a long mission somewhere in Africa, you hadn’t cared for the details, except when he told you he wouldn’t have phone reception.
Even the mention of him the past couple months made your skin prickle with goosebumps. He was in and out of your life, like he was just another one of the ghosts haunting you.
Your mind fleetingly conjures the image of your sweet, dead underclassman Haibara. You wonder how Nanami was doing? You should really send him a text, it had been a while since you had been on campus. There weren’t any other second years to keep him company and you doubt Shoko even had the time to think about him with all the tasks Yaga was handing off to her.
Coming back to your previous thoughts, you were more than aware that during those spring afternoons there was another person there. But you’d really start to cry if you thought of your raven haired friend-
…
Friend.
That’s not what Geto is anymore you remind yourself, an uneasy feeling bubbling in your gut (You always hated lying to yourself).
Feeling your sinuses begin to burn, you beat those memories down with a stick. You wouldn’t want your mascara to run, the maid wouldn’t be happy to have to re-do the entire look less than an hour before the ceremony.
With a groan, you rest your head to the wood of your vanity, a thud reverberating around the empty room. This wasn’t your room of course, a random guest chamber of the Zenin family estate. Your room was a little dorm at Jujutsu High. Much prettier. With your TV, which somehow always ended up with Digimon playing on full volume. The polaroid pictures strung up on the walls. Your bed filled with plushies Satoru had won you at those dumb claw machines you never seemed to master.
Huffing out a breath, you hear your phone chime with a notification. Typing in your password, the bright screen light bounces off your unmoving expression. The flurry of messages you left alone last time are still waiting there for you to reply with something.
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Shoko <3
Hey
Gojo and I went to that place u like
I almost forgot how much he talks about you
Lmk when ur free, we can go together next time
17 days ago
Helloooooo??
I just healed this huuuuuge cut on someones face
Sad you couldn’t see
Call me when you have some time 😵‍💫
13 days ago
Yaga was being all mysterious when I asked him about you
Just text back when u have the chance
8 days ago
(name) this is weird even for you
You haven’t been at the school in a month
Just tell me what’s wrong, I can try to help.
5 days ago
What the hell is going on??
Why did I just hear you were getting fucking married?
to Naoya Zenin of all people
I swear I know you’re seeing these
If I can’t track you down I'll get a hold of someone who can.
2 days ago
Gojo’s coming
1 minute ago
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You felt your heart skip a few beats and your eyes widened like saucers. Satoru was meant to be on his mission in Africa still, he wasn’t meant to get home until tomorrow night at the earliest. Without a moment’s respite to figure out what you were going to do, a bang sounds out as the window is blown off its hinges.
Clutching on to the edge of your stool, your sorcerer instincts yell at you to flee when you're enveloped by the feeling of powerful, feral cursed energy wildly whipping at the air. This wasn’t right. It felt like Gojo, but it wasn’t controlled like him. You haven’t experienced such an influx of cursed energy from him since well- the incident. Crackling your fight or flight instincts to life, you force yourself to still when you see the tufts of white hair.
So Gojo was no longer in Africa upon further inspection…
When his icy blue eyes met yours, you realized you were so. screwed. 
The only thing that could be heard was Satoru’s pants, as if he had run the length of Morioka to Tokyo at record breaking speeds.
“What… the- ugh- fuck.” He caught his breath, beginning to scowl in a way only he could. “You better… have a good explanation.” Gojo inhaled deeply before fixing you with another incredulous stare. “Because this is Naoya’s wedding. You know, that little Zenin dickhead? Last I checked, you’re definitely not getting married. So what’s the deal?”
You could hear your pulse beating like crazy, blood rushing to match its speed. You gulped and opened your mouth to speak, oddly enough, when you most needed to; you couldn’t form a single word.
You gaped like a fish as Gojo’s narrowed eyes roved over your wedding garb and the ornate styling of your hair. 
The tendrils of cursed energy reigned themselves in. You could feel the way Satoru forced it when met with your big eyed expression.
“This isn’t happening. You can’t (name).” He couldn’t break his sights away from the heavy fabric which seemed to weigh ten tonnes on you now. Or maybe it was the way your legs began to feel like jelly when you tried to get up
“Gojo-” You began before he swiftly interrupted.
“What the hell are you thinking? I tried calling, texting, emailing you! Do you KNOW what that guy is like? The entire clan? What happened to sticking it to the elders, huh?!” His voice began to raise as he closed the gap between the two of you in a few strides.
Your face morphed into a glower as he did. Feeling that spine of steel you used to have come back, anger begins to rise in your chest, restrained like a beast inside your ribcage.
“Don’t you dare. Don’t talk to me like we’re in the same situation! Of course I know what he’s like. I'm not an idiot, but not all of us are-” You wave a hand gesturing to the whole of his lanky body, “-some… all powerful special grade. Or sorry… they say you’re the most powerful sorcerer alive now, don’t they?” You snapped at him. It felt like a dog gnashing its teeth after being pulled and poked at for too long.
Satoru’s brows pinched together and his mouth parted like he couldn’t believe what you were saying.
“Of course I know you’re not an idiot! You’ve always been smarter than me, which is why i’m finding it pretty hard to understand why you think this is a good idea? Me being strong doesn’t have anything-”
“Doesn’t it?! You used to be here, Satoru. And now that you’re ‘the strongest’ you’re off in New York one week and Manila the next. Everyone used to be here! Maybe this is just it. We all have to grow up eventually, maybe this is the path I have to be on.”
The words felt like acid in your mouth, putrid, untrue. 
Satoru let out a cross between a bitter laugh and scoff as he rolled his eyes. “ ‘Path I have to be on’ my ass. This isn’t you.”
Reaching for the big and decorative pin in your hair, his fingers wrap around the metal and pull. You tried grabbing on to his forearm, but are rebutted by the shield of infinity which constantly stayed around him now.
“I don’t care what other people say I am, I care that you’re hiding things from all of us. From me. Since when do you do that?” He continued.
“When could I have said something to you? Last week when you had no cell in Africa? Or maybe that one day you were in Tokyo before heading to Seoul? I don’t owe you explanations Gojo.”
One side of you hair is let free and his hands move to reach for something else.
“Don’t ‘Gojo’ me. You know you could have said something, I would have come back. You just chose not to because apparently you’d rather marry Naoya than talk to me! How’d they make you do it? There’s no way you’d do this on your own.”
He grabs for the second pin and your hair is ruined now. Was his grand plan to stop you making your hair messy? Oh no the bride’s hair is undone, cancel the whole thing!
Before he has the chance to reach for whatever else was holding your look together you yell at him again, like this was the two of you bickering which food spot to pick in first-year.
“Oh stop it!” You try and bat his hand away only to be met infinity again.
“No!” Now this really reminded you of first-year.
“Turn that stupid infinity off! I’m so sick of trying to touch you and being pushed away like i’m some curse.” You reach for him again, but feel the thrum of the impenetrable barrier surrounding him. A literal representation of the distance between the two of you.
You go silent for a breaths length.
“I can’t talk to you when there’s a wall between us.”
You enunciated it painfully slow, as if explaining it to a child. Because you weren’t just referring to his cursed technique.
His blue eyes went soft for a moment. Was he really so opposed to the idea of letting his guard down with one of his closest friends? You weren’t Suguru. You’d rather die than betray Satoru like that, than cause him the pain you knew he felt. You knew what he felt because you felt it in equal measures.
You drew a breath and released it back. Looking up at him, you had forgotten just how tall he was from this close. In the silence, you brought your forefinger forward, expecting to poke at his infinity. Instead, you’re met with the muscle of his chest. Him.
You just wanted to bury yourself into him. Pull him so tight the two of you just merged together. You wouldn’t even care how annoying he’d get after the first week, just as long as you could be with him all the time.
Without a moment's hesitation, you press your whole hand flat, feeling Satoru’s heart thump frantically. He looked as if he was trying to keep a straight face, but you saw the way his pale cheeks began to flush, the tips of his ears. The corners of his mouth quirked downwards.
“When did we all decide to just… move on? Because I don’t think I got that memo.” You couldn’t force the words you really wanted to say out of your mouth. When did you all decide to leave me behind? Why did you leave me alone?
Bringing his hand to yours, it fully covers it.
“If you think I’ve moved on, you might be more clueless than I thought.” His voice had lost the scornful edge, a quiet melancholy clouding his expression. 
Squeezing your hand, Gojo wills you to keep looking at him when your eyes begin to flicker to anything that wasn’t him. He always wanted your attention on him and you were never one to deny Satoru.
“I don’t know what’s going on but…” He swallows and pauses for a moment, like he was deciding something.
“Please. Don’t do this. I don’t care what happens after. if they try to stop you I’ll kill every elder, every Zenin until it’s just you and me left.”
Every bit of your resistance began to crumble. Satoru brought his hand to your cheek and he began to caress everything from the bridge of your nose to your eyelids, committing everything to memory as if he hadn’t done this half a hundred times before. It was different this time. More desperate.
“Please don’t. I really don’t need another massacre scandal, last year was more than enough.” You tried to joke, Gojo responding with a hollow laugh. Sensitive topic.
“What then? You want me to marry you instead? Because if that’s what it’ll take to get them off your back i’ll-”
That causes a genuine laugh to be pulled from you. What a funny thought, Satoru Gojo marrying you. What would that even look like? Waking up as Mrs Gojo.
“What’ll you do if Waka Inoue finally notices you? She might not be into married guys.” You bit your lip and looked away nervously. 
“Waka-who-cares. I’d be a super committed husband, that’s offensive you think I’d cheat on you.” You skim his biceps refusing to meet his eyes. The six eyes which could peel back every layer of poor jokes and yelling until they saw you for what you really were.
Satoru was quick to pull your face back to him, craning your neck upwards so he could get a better look at you. Your eyes start to become bleary and you forcefully wipe at them, probably smearing your makeup, it didn’t matter.
“No, no what’s wrong? Did I say something?” He blurted while catching a stray tear with his thumb. You were ashamed to admit it, but it felt good to be so close again. You’d take him anyway he let you have him.
“No. You didn’t.” Gojo shook your head gently, as if he was trying to shake some sense into you.
“Then why? All of this, why?” He asks and it comes out as more of a plea than anything.
And it all came tumbling out.
“I have nightmares about everything that happened. And then you were gone, and then Haibara, and then Suguru, and then Shoko, and then you again. Even Nanami. I had no one left to turn to instead of this stupid family who cares about nothing other than their stupid lineage and influence. When they asked me to marry Naoya, what else could I have said? I didn’t tell you because I didn’t see the point! You-”
“You thought I left you.”
Your body went slack and the only thing holding you up was Satoru’s steady hand. His words had a note of familiarity, as if he resonated with what you were saying. All of a sudden that chasm you imagined between the two of you began to inch closer together again.
“I think of you all the time. I think I might be obsessed with you, which is not a good thing for your sake. When Shoko called me, the only thing keeping me sane was knowing I had to get here in time.”
Squeezing your shoulder, Satoru takes a step backwards with a painfully concentrated look. You had half the mind to grasp at him and beg him not to move away.
“I caught the first flight back to Tokyo. I paid that cab driver more money than he makes in a month to speed as fast as he could. I teleported the farthest I've ever gone to get here on time. I tracked down your room in this ugly house by the trace of your energy alone. If that doesn’t say I'm here for you…”
Gojo offers a hand to you and the resolution on his face is strikingly clear.
“I don’t think I can let you walk in there… but I'm gonna ask anyway. Do you wanna go in there and get married to some entitled kid, who could never deserve you, or are you coming with me.”
All you could hear was leave me or don’t.
Leaping forward, you had never made a choice faster. Something in you screamed to bridge the final bit of the gap between the two of you, and there was only one thing your mind stubbornly insisted would do the trick.
Taking his hand you pull him closer with your own determined resolve. Yanking him forward, you bring your fingers to the nape of his neck and slam your lips to his.
It took him a moment to respond, but he fell into the messy rhythm after a moment. He clutched onto your waist to keep you close, your bodies pressing together firmly. It wasn’t a rough kiss and though it was messy, it couldn’t have felt more right.
Pulling away, you rested your forehead on his and looked into those piercing eyes.
“Can we… can we go?” You said breathlessly.
Nodding frantically, his big hand grope at your hips and stomach trying to push you two further together. As if you’d think of separating from him now.
“Yeah, yeah I got you. We’re going, nobody’s gettin’ in the way.” He chuckled.
“Let’s not fight again, I really hated that.” You kissed his pouted lips once more before pulling away -albeit slowly because he refused to let go- and smiling.
“…You’re so cute when you get mad though. All, ‘Gojo, don’t you dare’ “ He mocked in a girlish and obnoxiously high pitched voice. He always had to go and ruin the vibe.
“I don’t-”
Before you could give him a piece of you mind, the sound of the door being opened caught your attention and you turned your head back to see who it was.
The face of the scandalized maid from before was comical, bringing a mischievous smile to your mouth as you purposefully wiped at your now smeared lipstick.
She lets out a scream before starting to loudly call out, “Master Naobito! Master Naoya! Help there is-”
Rolling your eyes you look at Satoru expectantly, “Well… I think that’s our cue.”
Picking you up in a bridal style carry, a small giggle escapes you as Gojo grins with relief that you’ve chosen the right option. 
“Jail break time. You owe me some dango from that resturant you like… maybe that can be our first date!”
The feeling of Satoru encircles you as his cursed energy wraps you like a blanket. You press your cheek to his shoulder and shut your eyes tight as you feel yourself being transported from the glib guestroom.
Satoru’s warm breath hits your ear as he leans in close.
“Did I mention you look really hot. Am I allowed to say that now that we’re getting married?”
“Hey I never agreed to that-”
The world went silent as the two of you warped away, your narrowly avoided and life changing mistake becoming a small bump in the very long road ahead.
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captainamericasmotercycle ¡ 11 months ago
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Can I request one for Jacaerys Velaryon where Rhaenyra betroths him to his twin sister and they're both super awkward about it. You can write it as you wish.
warnings: i didn't make them twins so interpret her as you'd like, targ!cest (unintentional?), aemond and aegon taunting jace, high valyrion (i'm not fluent forgive me), takes place in 1.08 (lord of the tides), more angsty than awkward, aemond x reader if you squint really really hard?
“Her children are bastards! And she is a whore,” Vaemond Velaryon spoke with vemon on his tongue.
You and your brothers shared a glance of embarassment with one another.
Viserys hobbled up from his seat on the throne, “I will have your tongue for that.”
Before Viserys could get any further Dark Sister flung through the air, taking Vaemond’s head with her. Everyone in the room jumped back, your mother pushing you behind her, as your younger brother gasped.
“He can keep his tongue,” chaos erupted with the King’s guard.
“Disarm him!”
Daemon wiped the Velaryon blood off his sword and sheathed it, ushering you and his daughters out of the room, “No need.”
-
Later in the dining hall, you and your estranged family stood around a large table, Viserys was carried in and sat in between your mother and Alicent, “How good it is… to see you all tonight… together.”
One he was situated, all sat in the respective places, you between Jacaerys and Lucerys.
Alicent looked to her husband, “Prayer before we begin?”
“Yes,” your family was not the most religious, you looked to Jace, you looked back at you with an annoyed expression.
“May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest.”
Viserys was the first to speak, just barely lifting his cup, “This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandson Luke, will marry his cousins Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young Prince… and his betrothed! Hear, hear!”
The rest of the table rose their glasses and toasted to your younger brother.
Aegon, sitting next to Jace leaned over and spoke quietly, “Your younger brother bests you once again. Laying with a women before you.”
Viserys spoke again, “Let us toast as well Prince Lucerys… the future Lord of the Tides. Hear, hear!”
You smiled at him, squeezing his hand, “You’ll be great.”
Aegon continued on with him, “You do know how the act is done, I assume? At least in principle? Where to put your cock and all that.”
“Let it be, Aegon,” Helaena chastised him, tired of his jokes.
“You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my sister,” Jace defended you.
Your family sat in tension, your grandsire felt the need to clear the air, “It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world… yet grown so distant from each other… in the years past.”
He takes his mask off his face and drops it on the table, “My own face… is no longer a handsome one… if indeed it ever was. But tonight… I wish you to see me… as I am. Not just a king… but your father. Your brother. Your husband… and your grand sire. Who may not, it seems… walk for much longer among you.”
He breathes heavily and struggles with his next words, “Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown… then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”
Your grandsire sits and the room was filled with silence, your mother arose from her place next to him.
“I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen. I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood… more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with… unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude… and my apology.”
Alicent smiles solemnly to Rhaenyra, “Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess.”
She stands and raises her cup, “We are both mothers… and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow. I raise my cup to you… and to your house. You will make a fine queen.”
Each at the table took turns toasting to the family, each aggrivating Jacaerys more.
Aegon, drunkenly, rose, turning to Luke, “I, um… I regret the disappointment you are soon to suffer. But if you ever wish to know what it is to be well satisfied, all you have to do is ask.”
Aegon smiles and turns to Jace now, “Ask me, of course. Your older brother would not know how to guide you.”
Jace stands, slamming his hands down on the table, you grab his wrist, “Jace.”
Sternly looking at him, he glances to you before raising his glass, “To Prince Aegon and… Prince Aemond,” Aemond’s face hardens, “We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family’s good health, dear uncles.”
Jace sits and Heleana stands, “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon. It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you… except sometimes when he’s drunk.”
Aegon rolls his eyes in embarassment, Viserys smiles at his youngest daughter, and Daemon gently laughs.
Viserys feels ill and is taken out of the room. Only the Hightower side of the family is left.
You’ve always had a strained relationship with your uncles, but you did love Helaena, often times strolling in the gardens with her, or her teaching you some embroidery tricks.
Aemond glances at you from across the table, a dark and hungry look in his eyes. You look away from him and to your mother. She nods at you, as a way of saying that she would take care of it.
The pig comes out of the kitchens and is brought to the table, Luke chuckles at the sizzling pig. Aemond slams his fist on the table, capturing everyone’s attention.
“Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace… Luke… and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise… hm… strong,” he looks to you and smirks, “And my niece, you are of age now, luck to you in finding a husband. Perhaps someone strong, maybe you will find home in the Riverlands.”
“Aemond,” Alicent warns.
You can see Jace fuming from beside you, but you gently nudge his foot under the table with yours. You keep your composure.
You hum, smirking back at him, “Kirimvose, yn nyke gīmigon nyke kostagon become tolī than sepār mirtys’s riñnykeā ābrazȳrys… Kepa.” Thank you, but I know I can become more than just someone's lady wife… uncle
“Kostilus se ābrazȳrys hen nykeā darilaros?” Perhaps the wife of a prince?
“Nyke unyishishk jorrāelagon daorun tolī than naejot sagon se ābrazȳrys hen dārys's tȳne tresy.” I would love nothing more than to be the wife of the king's second son.
Aemond’s face hardened. Only you, Aemond, your mother, and Daemon fully understood the words exchanged. Your mother and Daemon shared a look of pride.
Alicent looked at the interaction with confusion and furrowed brows.
“What are they saying?”
“Aemond has proposed a marriage it seems,” Rhaenyra speaks.
Jace looks at you almost angrily, “What did you say?”
All eyes were on you, “What she said is not important,” your mother interrupted.
She cleared her throat, “What matters is that my daughter will wed her brother, Jacaerys, heir to the Iron Throne. She will become queen one day; something more than someone’s lady wife.”
Everyone’s eyes widened. You felt heat rise to your cheeks. There is no way that your mother would have you marry your brother?
Aemond’s hardened grin turned to a smug one, “Well then, congratulations is in order to my niece and her strong husband.”
Jace stood and walked towards the center of the room, challenging his uncle, “I dare you to say that again.”
Aemond stood with him, walking to him, “Why? ‘Twas only a compliment,” he leaned into Jace, whispering into his ear, “Do you not think yourself Strong?”
Without hesitation, Jace swung at Aemond, getting in a good punch onto his jaw. Everyone around the table gasped, your mother yelled sternly, “Jace!”
Aemond reached for his blade, but his mother’s voice stopped him, “Aemond! That is enough!”
“Go to your quarters. All of you go, now.”
You stood and watched Jace walk out. You didn’t follow him to his quarters to check on him. You stayed in the hall and waited for your mother.
As she came out of the dining hall, you caught up with her.
“Mother!”
She turned to you, “Were you telling the truth… about me.. and Jace?”
Holding your face in her hands she stroked your cheek with her thumb and smiled gently at you, but you could not meet her eyes, “You will make a great queen one day, my sweet girl.”
She tugged at your chin to force you to look at her, “But now, you need to rest, we have quite the journey ahead of us back to Dragonstone, tomorrow.”
You nodded before heading back to your quarters. Nodding at the guards standing at your door, you pushed them open.
Jace, who was waiting for you on your bed, stood at your entrance. You sighed and rolled your eyes.
“Jacaerys, it is not proper for you to be in here… not anymore.”
“Please just listen.”
You walked around the room, releasing the maids of their duties, “Leave us.” The maids were quick to exit.
“I did not know she was going to say that!”
“I did not know Aemond would try to wed me tonight.”
“I’m sorry. We do not have to wed if you choose to take someone else’s hand—”
“No,” shaking your head, “It is.. our duty now, as the future queen’s eldests.”
“I promise to be a good husband—”
“Jacaerys, I do not wish to speak of this any longer.”
He spoke your name softly, “I’m sorry.”
“Leave me, Jace.”
He said your name more sternly now.
“Leave me, your grace.”
He sunk into himself, hands on his sheathed sword, nodding at you, “As you wish.”
You watch him leave, the door slamming behind him. You groaned in frustration, running your hands over your face and through your hair.
How are you supposed to marry your brother of all people?
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rottenpumpkin13 ¡ 24 days ago
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rufus shinra (no elaboration)
I love him. I love my nepo baby, patricidal, emotionally constipated, dog-loving, designer-suit-wearing, gun-spinning little bastard son of capitalism who'll orchestrate corporate espionage before noon and then delicately hand-feed Darkstar roast chicken off his own plate by evening, who's hopelessly in love with Tseng but would sooner die than say it, who insists they're just "trusted colleagues" while memorizing the exact hour Tseng takes his coffee, who'd never admit the turks are his family and he loves them, who survived being Meteor'd, Geostigma'd, and still had the audacity to keep Jenova's remains in a box like it was lunch tupperware only to yeet it off a building while taunting one of Sephiroth's angsty clone sons.
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blazingstar29 ¡ 8 months ago
Text
post layton mission fic reqs!
Curated for all of you but inspired by conversations with @silentfallingrain :D. I've tagged the authors where i've been able to, i hope that's okay with everyone!!
To Be So Blind by @purplearrowzandleather-blog (hope it's okay to tag you! :) ) - A really sweet fic about ice and slider looking out for mav after top gun and just being there for the guy
caught up in the patterns by @vannral - post top gun with alive goose, pretty heart breaking for a while but the dialogue is honestly my FAV it really lightens the fic whilst simultaneously tugging your heart strings
flat spin, heading out to sea by @saengak - okay so this fic takes place from the beginning of top gun, but if you want a fic that makes some pretty heavy commentary on society and classism, this is it. it was one of the first big fics i started reading in top gun and i waited every monday morning for it like clockwork.
Folded In Grief by Katastrophe (karrington) poor mav, like honestly the bastard suffers in this but not for too long!
don't let the great whites bite by @mavernick no angsty here! i love this fic sm and mav's characterisation and the fly boys and just ahhh they're having fun!! and ice being there for mav!!!!
don't know how long it's gonna take to feel okay by rosexpetals i love love love the progression of the story tellingin this fic it's so ;fihsa;kfh
watch his six by @shearmouth okay so admittedly i haven't read the last chapter yet, but dude yal YALL i love this fic i eat this up i love it ice is so ;fhsa;khuf;uh i love it okay I LOVE IT the characterisation is delicious
and some shameless self plugs haha
At the end of their rope - mav's at a party a year after top gun and runs into osme people who knew cougar
I'm leaving on a jet plane - my first big top gun fic and now two years old so please excuse well...everything LMAO
Fleeting Love - slighty better writing, angst and icemav getting together
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harzilla ¡ 6 months ago
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For the long sibling au, what if Yuu was like a bastard child like it's Leona's mum, but the mum had an affair with a magicless human? So on top of having no beastman features and no magic, they were born they also look nothing like either of Leona and Falena's parents, making it obvious Yuu is an affair baby (affair baby yuu has more similar features to their bio dad). The royalty court wanting to cover this up basically (Kifaji had no idea of this of course) yoinks baby Yuu from their crib and somehow magics up a portal and throws them to earth in hopes they'll never be seen again.
- 🐐
Ohh that is really interesting and potentially very angsty. This came to me a lot easier then I thought.
Tw: angst, infant "death", lots of shitty adults in general.
So imagine for whatever reason, the queen falls pregnant with another man's child. The bedroom affairs of the royal family are kept incredibly hush hush. But the queen ends up pregnant. Perhaps the only three who know are the king, the queen, and the affair partner. Of course Farena and Leona are clueless. Leona is around four years old. Not yet the cynic he is now, so he's genuinely excited. All they know is their mother is going to have a baby and they're going to have a new little brother or sister.
The queen eventually giving birth and labor goes poorly. The queen survives but she's very weak, has to be carefully monitored to ensure she recovers. The baby is alive, taken to be checked over and cleaned up, but it's a shock that it's a child that is free of any beastman features.
The council is quickly informed and they're in an uproar. There's no way the public can know about this child. This would cause a scandal. Destroy the reputation of the queen, bring a mark of disgrace to the Kingscholar line. There's no way a bastard child can be allowed to stay in the palace.
So the council comes up with a plan.
They'll get rid of it and lie.
They, without the Queen's knowledge they go to the king and whisper into the King's ear. The child isn't yours, your majesty. What will the people think? This would shake the people's trust in her highness, in you. She's so terribly weak right now, just imagine what this could do to her. You know what you must do, right?
So the king decides to put his family first and orders they get rid of the baby. The lie is simple, the queen is to be told the baby died shortly after birth. Complications from the labor and such. The public are told that the third Kingscholar child had returned to their ancestors. Maybe the king isn't completely heartless and uses a very ancient spell known only to a select few.
The baby is whisked away by a magic spell that sends it to a place where it should never be able to return to the Sunset Savannah.
So the little baby ends up in our world. Baby who soon gets placed up for adoption. Baby who grows up and on the outside they look like every other kid. But they're just not right. Their senses are noticably sharper then others. Even as they got older and ran blood work, nobody could figure it out. No DNA matches came up when they searched. The closest explanation is the doctors think Yuu has some kind of genetic mutation. Yuu's family is a blank slate.
Yuu grows up to get into a bunch of fights. Their adoptive parents scolding them for getting into a fight. Yuu points out that the other person insulted them by saying that they were trash and it was no wonder their bio parents got rid of them. Just growing up to be very physical towards their bullies.
Yuu eventually ends up in Twisted Wonderland. All of 16 years old, they're sarcastic, snide. They don't exactly have the best opinion of others. But they gradually warm up to the idea of people here might actually care about them.
Eventually it's figured out that Yuu isn't fully human and actually has some beastman DNA. Yuu at first thinks this is impossible, because beastman don't exist back home. But the DNA test proves that Yuu has beastman ancestry, even pegging it as lion beastman. Narrowing it down to sunset savannah(DNA records for the royal family are not available to the public.)
Eventually Yuu heads to the Sunset Savannah with Leona during cloud calling. Hoping they can track down somebody from their bio family. Leona originally planned not to bring them but they wormed their way in like they always do. Leona already has his suspicions about Yuu and he uses the royal family database to compare his and Yuu's DNA. He's shocked because he thought Yuu might just be a distant relative but they're actually a close enough match to be half siblings. He might only have a very vague memory but he's never forgotten how his mother mourned her third child.
Leona's father is ill, his health degrading. But Leona still manages to get the truth out of him. Leona has always hated how complicit his Father has been in keeping the status quo.
It's Yuu who takes it the worst. Being told that the royal family and Kingscholar line will always come first. They had to get rid of them because otherwise they could have potentially been a threat to the legitimate children and their future heirs.
It's enough to finally break the facade of will power and confidence Yuu has used to survive in Twisted Wonderland. They've been through so much. They always felt like an outsider no matter where they were. They finally had felt like maybe they were building some kind of life here. It wasn't until they became close with Ace and Deuce that they felt like somebody actually had their back for once in their life.
But this? The absolute look of disgust Leona had that day towards his father and the council will never be forgotten by those who witnessed the tragic spectacle.
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agoodroughandtumble ¡ 4 months ago
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Valentine's Day - Zoro x Reader
Status: Complete Summary: A fluffy/angsty oneshot for Valentine's Day Warning: Language (18+). These guys will never know they're in love
Even with the cold water lapping against your shins, the heat radiating from your drinking partner was enough to keep you warm. Increasingly aware that should you turn to face him the heat rising from your cheeks would give your thoughts away, you kept a steady focus on the water in front of you, the hard wood of the dock you sat on, the glint of moonlight against the gentle waves. It was annoyingly romantic.
Zoro was unaware. Zoro was always unaware. It was hardly surprising – the man didn’t have a romantic bone in his body, and even if that weren’t the case he had had ample opportunity to do anything other than this. Whatever “this” was. So. He clearly just wasn’t interested. Which was fine. Absolutely fine. Or at least it would be if you could look at him without a bombardment of gymnastic butterflies invading your stomach. It was pathetic really – the two of you sat in what Zoro would describe was a comfortable, drinking silence whilst the rest of the crews’ party raged on within earshot on the beach. You would describe it as increasingly awkward. Still, it was better than not being in an uncomfortable silence with Zoro. And so, inevitably, the patheticness continued.
You took a sip of your beer, swallowing thickly, waiting for the courage that usually followed inebriation. It wasn’t following quite as quickly as you liked. You were just going to have to ask. Or attempt to anyway. As long as he didn’t look at you. Or answer. Or hear the question. Or maybe just be aware of your existence anyway. This was, somehow, a new level of self-inflicted pathetic yearning. At least that was somewhat of a progression? Or maybe regression? Something different at least.
“So, erm,” you cleared your throat, “Any plans for tomorrow?” Despite your gaze still fixed firmly on the horizon you could feel Zoro’s eyes on you. Your fingers fidgeted against the bottle in your hand.
“What do you mean?”
His voice sounded sincere. Because of course it did. Because how could he possibly understand what you were asking the day before Valentine’s Day. “Well, you know,” you bumped your shoulder against his, trying to sound casual against your increasing frustration. “Valentine’s Day. Any plans?”
Zoro shrugged. “Guess whatever crazy shit Luffy will drag us into.”
In hindsight, you shouldn’t have been surprised. You certainly hadn’t been hopeful (well, alright, maybe, a tiny amount – that small niggling feeling that there might be something between the two of you…) but at least he hadn’t waxed lyrical about some over-elaborate plans made for Nami or Robin.
“Of course, yeah.” You nodded, hoping whatever confusion of emotions wasn’t written completely across your face. Turned out it was annoyingly difficult to keep emotions to yourself when you weren’t actually sure what those emotions were. “Same, just...vibing.” Oh, fuck. Now, that emotion you knew all too well. Just vibing? Might as well have said just being a sad bastard without a date, or just desperately waiting for the slightest hint of romance to detract from the whole Zoro had carved out of your heart only to completely neglect. Just vibing? Fucking hell.
“What do people do? On Valentine’s Day?”
You looked at him – couldn’t help yourself. And the earnestness in his eyes almost crushed you. “Oh, erm.” Your fingers fidgeted with the beer again, eyes dropping, focusing on the bubbles fizzing to the lip of the bottle. “Flowers, chocolate, dinner… I suppose.”
“Okay.” Zoro downed his bottle.
The awkward tension would have been back but he stood up before it could settle. You watched him walk back along the dock to meet the rest of the crew, your heart leaving with him.
*
The next morning found you on the deck leaning against the guardrail. The ever changing motion of the waves always calmed you – reassuring you that everything was temporary. Everything would pass. Even your feelings for Zoro would inevitably be washed away by the ebb and flow. And as you would forget the streams and rivers and fords of this hateful longing so too would you forget the springs. In theory. In reality in your peripheral you could see Nami and Zoro in very close proximity, and the fact that you couldn’t hear them only solidified your suspicions. Last night he’d asked you what people did on Valentine’s Day – today him and Nami were having a moment. The least he could fucking do was fall for someone you didn’t care about. At least then you could irrationally hate them.
It made sense. Zoro and Nami had known each other far longer than you had known either of them. She was beautiful, fun, intelligent and they wound each other up relentlessly. Of course all of their “bickering” over money was flirting. You should have seen it before. If you had known from the start Zoro would always be unavailable you wouldn’t have been so naïve to think you stood a chance. You just hoped they wouldn’t rub their insufferable happiness in your face. You could smile for the rest of the crew. You could wax lyrical about how perfect for each other they were. You could be happy for Nami. You couldn’t pretend to Zoro. He saw through you far too easily, and even if he couldn’t you didn’t exactly have a poker face.
You closed your eyes, focusing on the smell of salt, the gentle rocking of the ship against its berth, anything to replace the gnawing at your heart. If Zoro didn’t want it, he shouldn’t have taken it.
*
“What do you mean?” Zoro’s gazed fixed firmly on your face, trying to decipher the smallest flicker of emotion. You were staring at the horizon with a determination he often saw. Always far away, always something, anything that wasn’t him. He’d seen the same look on your face when you were head down towards your shoes. Every time, every single time, he’d tried to get the two of you alone you were always so focused on anything else. And yet every time you accepted his invitation. Why. When he’d asked you to have a drink with him on the dock he’d thought the pair of you could, fuck it, talk. But every time you were alone it was as if you wanted to be somewhere else.
This was stupid. It was too obvious. The faint music from the party in the background. The “clandestine” meet on the dock. The moonlight. He might as well be wearing a sign proclaiming his love. It was too much. Fuck. He always went too far. Too deep. Too… too Zoro. This was supposed to be a casual drink only now he was practically getting his dick out in front of you and expecting you to be totally cool. Fuck’s sake.
“Well, you know.” He felt your shoulder bump against his, “Valentine’s Day, any plans?”
His body tensed. Where you asking him, or were you asking him? He should say something romantic. Anything romantic. He should stay pick a star and he will get Luffy to catapult him into the sky so he could bring it back for you. He should. say. anything. “Guess whatever crazy shit Luffy will drag us into.”
Fucking stars. Fucking Luffy. Why is that in his head. It had started as a romantic gesture and now suddenly he’s wanking on about the captain. Shit, why didn’t he just drag Usopp and Sanji into the conversation too? That fucking love cook would be all over Valentine’s Day – he’s probably preparing a special dinner for you, Nami and Robin right now. Rose petals, candlelight, mood music… fucking curly brows. How could he do something so easily, so casually, so effortlessly when Zoro couldn’t even answer a question without sounding like a dick? Zoro knew how to train, how to fight, how to be a swordsman. He didn’t know how to make you smile. He didn’t know how to surprise you. He didn’t know how to convey the one fucking thing. The fucking thing.
“Of course, yeah. Same, just...vibing.”
Zoro almost felt the tone in your voice drop. You hid it well, but Zoro was all too accustomed. He had studied you almost as much as he had studied the sword. He knew every nook, every corner, every falter in your words. He didn’t need to look at you to understand how crestfallen you were.
Wait.
So… you wanted something? For Valentine’s Day? Maybe not from him, maybe (hopefully) not from anyone else but you wanted something. He could do something. It might not mean a lot but he could, would provide what you wanted. He could be a stand in paramour if that would put a smile on your face – hell, he could do anything if it put a smile on your face. “What do people do? On Valentine’s Day?”
*
For all of Nami’s intel and all her hype when Zoro started walking towards you the only feeling he was aware of was that of dread. He was aware that you would probably prefer anyone, literally anyone, to be approaching you but here he was – two roses behind his back because even with Nami’s help that was all he had managed to find. And fuck the pervert cook providing your dinner – he was going to. It was going to be awful and possibly inedible but he was going to do it. Flowers, chocolate, dinner. Two out of three. Maybe. Definitely one out of three. Definitely something.
“I got you these.” Zoro thrust the flowers at you.
The sudden noise made you jump – the two roses in your face made you stop.
He retracted them. “You don’t have to take them.”
“No, wait,” Finally finding some wind within your lungs in which to speak you took the two roses. “I want them. I’m, er, no. Thanks.”
Zoro stared at you. You stared back.
“Dinner’s in five minutes. Just us.” Zoro said, told you, before disappearing again.
You opened your mouth to speak but he was gone. And anyway you weren’t sure what to say. You glanced around you – the rest of the crew didn’t seem to be aware except Nami who gave you a bright smile and a thumbs up. You followed Zoro into the galley.
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cryingpariah ¡ 7 months ago
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You know what I really want to see from Elbaf? Usopp's initial view of Yasopp being slowly whittled away by what he witnesses from the giants.
Imagine him seeing giant warriors stampeding through the village because they're so happy to go home and see their families. Sweeping their spouses up to twirl them around and lifting the little ones on their shoulders. Some of them haven't even been gone that long but each second apart was too long.
Giant fathers weeping loudly over their new babies because they're so cute it's too much to bear. Teaching their sons and daughters how to walk or chop wood or hunt or hold a sword or helping prepare them for their first adventure.
Sitting around the hearth, telling stories and sharing meals.
These aren't just brave warriors of the sea.
They're protectors. Playmates. Teachers. Healers. Carpenters. Providers. Motivators. Friends.
Not even the fiercest battles or the most treacherous of storms could keep them from coming home to their families. Some of them have even hung up their axes and swords for now because giants live very long lives, there will always be time for adventure. What's a decade or so to spend at home where you're needed?
A decade where you're needed. Who could imagine?
On my knees begging and screaming for Oda to give Usopp that good angsty family screen time he gave Sanji in WCI!
This is something I’ve thought about a lot before Elbaf even began, based mostly on the Big Mom Elbaf flashbacks. The society and culture of the giants seem to heavily depend on loyalty and a sense of togetherness, a real “it takes a village” kind of place. It’s definitely a place where a doting sweetheart like Usopp would thrive and a place where a sniveling bastard like Yassop would feel like an imposter in.
I can easily see a scene where some of the warriors of Elbaf find out about Usopp heritage and immediately began asking him about all the shooting techniques his father taught him or the no doubt lavish gifts and spoils from travels he was given only for Usopp to very nonchalantly say that he hasn’t seen his father in over ten years at this point. The giants almost immediately are sent into an uproar, disgust and anger and disbelief at the thought. Usopp would try to joke and backtrack because despite everything he thinks so highly of his father and is so impassioned by his dream it made Usopp want to head out to sea as well!
The giants aren’t having it though, they can’t believe they broke bread with a man like that! All of Usopp’s arguments fall on deaf ears, the warriors of Elbaf are this close to calling Shanks and demanding his sniper's head for a pyre. In fact, all of Usopp's claims make them even madder! How could such a sweet, brave and enduring young man be left to his own devices by that! That!
Coward.
(Side note I’ve heard and seen a lot of different interpretations of how Usopp and Yassop meeting again could look like but there’s a sick and evil part of me that wants Yassop to find the courage to actually greet his son and..Usopp just doesn’t recognize him. It would heal me I think.)
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gremlin-girly ¡ 8 months ago
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Kinktober Day 11
Kink: Manhandling, enemies AND lovers
Pairing: Steve Rogers/Captain America x Villain!f!Reader
warnings: SMUT, p-in-v, mahandling, a smidge of fluff, praise + pet names (good girl), mentions of rough sex, biting/marking, a little bit of a confession if you squint, creampie
Not beta'd and obligatory on mobile!
summary: You and Steve have played this game before; you go about your hero/villain duties and then in the dark of the night you scratch the itch that only the other can soothe. However, this time it's a slightly different.
word count: 2.6k
A/N: I have a WIP for a villain series underway but I just love a good hero x villain dynamic (they're also so sassy and angsty I just melt). No one speak to me as I have 10 + Kinktober drafts that I'm trying to edit haha - Love, Grem x
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“I knew you’d come.” You don’t even have to look up from your perch to know that Captain America, or as you so deftly nicknamed him Little Stevie, was standing in your doorway. It had only been a matter of time before he’d appear to arrest you and you had planned for it. You sipped at your red wine precariously, ensuring not to spill a drop over your expensive, white, silk and lace camisole.
You didn’t even look up from the book you were reading and you knew it irked him when you didn’t pay attention to him.
“the authorities are on their way.” He says stoically, statuesque in the golden light of your table lamp.
You click your tongue and huff, still not looking up. “And we both know I won’t spend a night in jail.”
“Maybe so. But you’ll be arrested.”
Now you look over at him. Raised eyebrow and a charismatic smirk that would make any other man melt but Steve stands in the doorway, hands on his belt and frowning slightly. It makes you want him all the more.
“really now?” You  tease, tilting your head mockingly. “and what are you doing here then? If the cops are on their way, as you so say, there’s no need for you. Unless...”
Your eyes narrow, smirk growing as you shift in your seat. Steve’s eyes flicker downward towards your cleavage ever so briefly you’re almost sure you’ve imagined it. He clears his throat.
“I didn’t want you to get away.”
“Again.” You smile.
Steve smiles wryly back. “Yeah, again.”
You chuckle softly. His voice carries a deeper meaning that you both know to be true; you both want to fuck each other again. The first time it happened was an accident; as accidental as two people on opposite sides having sex can be.
 You’d been celebrating at a hotel after a recent skirmish with the Avengers and Steve had tracked you, all by his lonesome, to try and be the hero and save the day. It had worked, in a way. He’d barged into your room. You’d thrown one of the stupidly tiny coffee mugs at him but he dodged it – lucky bastard – and grabbed your wrists before turning you around and holding them firmly against your back. You’d wriggled and kicked and – in fairness to Steve – he had warned you before he pinned you face down onto the bed. You both just didn’t expect to like it so much.
Perhaps the exhaustive, tense day you’d both had made you want to let off some steam; baseline instinct taking over when he’d flipped you over and kissed you roughly. Or when you chewed at his bottom lip and wrapped your legs around his waist.  Maybe it was that instinct that made him pick you up and hook his strong arms under your knees while he fucked into you and maybe it was that instinct that had made you come so hard over his cock you saw stars.
Regardless of whatever it was, it became a repeating occurrence.
Oh, the Avengers were coming to stop your goons? You’d make plans to be there at the same time as your favourite Captain. To smile and wink as you got off scot free and to irritate Steve knowing full well you’d both meet at a hotel somewhere incognito later in the night to fuck your brains out; rougher if you’d teased him in front of the team.
However, coming to your house was... new. And you can’t not comment on it.
“This is your first time at my home,” you say, setting down your wine and closing over your book. “You never come here.”
Steve’s jaw tenses and you smirk.
“Ah. So, what, you missed me, little Stevie?” you coo at him, hoping to get a rise. “Want one last ride before I go on my merry little way?”
Steve grumbles low in his throat; half way between a growl of frustration and a sigh of resignation. So he had missed you. You get to your feet, discarding your book without a care. Lace frills tickled at your thighs as you stood before Steve, leaning back against the sofa and folding your arms under your chest, making Steve’s eyes drift again. You grin.
“Well?” you press, secretly hoping that this time he’ll admit that he likes you, not just fucking you senseless. Because, let’s face it, he’s Steve Rogers; he could have anyone he wanted and he wants you. The one person he should stay away from. He’d put others down like dogs when he had to, but you? Never you. It almost made you want to be good. In more ways than one – just for him.
Steve doesn’t respond verbally. He sighs, shoulders sagging and strides towards you. He picks you up effortlessly, throwing you over his shoulder , something you’ve come to expect so you don’t squeak or yelp only giggle; giggling like you’ve won the best damn prize at the fairground and Steve loves to hate it. You appreciatively oggle his ass in his tac gear as he moves into the hallway; another sight you’ve come to love. He stops.
“Bedroom.” He states lowly. “Where?”
“Woah there Captain Caveman,” you tease, opening your mouth to continue when Steve’s rough hand grips at your asscheek hard, making you gasp.
“where?” He asks again.
“up the stairs, first door on the left.” You say breathily, squeaking and clawing your nails into Steve’s back as he ascends the stairs at a ridiculously inhuman pace. Your bedroom door swings open as Steve kicks it and your half sure a hinge has snapped. Steve hurls you onto your bed and you bounce roughly across your satin sheets. Steve’s on top of you before you even have a chance to draw in a breath, kissing you hungrily and trailing down your throat.
“How long until the cops arrive?” You manage to get out, eyes fluttering closed as Steve’s lips tease at the swell of your right breast, just above the lace frill.
“Long enough,” is his gruff reply. Steve makes little work tugging down the front of the camisole. He knows better than to rip your expensive lingerie but only after you sent the bill for the Venetian panties he ruined to the Avengers compound. That was a long week for Steve. He still hadn't lived it down - thankfully, you'd left the note anonymous.
When your breasts are exposed Steve's mouth is all over them; kissing and sucking at the flesh in the way you like it. Your hands rake his soft hair from his face to better watch as he rolls his tongue around a nipple. Your back arches when you moan and Steve nips at your skin, chasing kisses all the way back up to your lips. Your lips greet his passionately, desperately. Both of your moans muffled by the other.
"Stevie," You pant, cupping his cheeks in your palms as you both look at eachother's eyes and lips. "I need you."
Steve sits back, undoing his belt hurriedly as you shuffle out of your panties. Something about the race against the clock, had you both running hotter than usual. Once Steve's belt is undone, he doesn't bother removing it, immediately getting to work on the zipper and buttons. Your hand is already reaching through the opening he's created, palming his heated length through his boxers. Steve's head tilts down with a soft curse, watching your hand gently free his cock and pump it a few times before lining him up with your needy core.
Steve shuffles closer, letting you guide him into you, palms splaying either side of your head onto the silky satin pillowcases. Your legs hook over his hips, pulling him closer, further into you. You take in a shaky inhale as he fills you to the brim and you watch Steve’s eyes flutter with a smug smirk.
"We're against the clock, Stevie." You murmur to him, wrapping an arm around his neck as his elbows buckle. "As much as I would love to take my time here - I think you should fuck me senseless."
"Fuck," Steve huffs into your ear. His cock twitches inside of you before his hips start to move. It's erratic at first; desperate and wild thrusts that have you tearing at his tactical gear, your legs squeezing him closer and closer. Steve raises his head to kiss you, slowly finding a rythymn with his thrusts that make you keen into his mouth.
The tip of his cock smacks that sweet spot that makes your cunt clench around him. You heave breaths as you break from another passionate kiss, holding onto Steve's shoulders tightly as you cum. You see Steve looking down at you, watching your half-lidded expression closely.
It’s if something changes, his usually stoic and rough demeanour is replaced with something softer.
“You are so beautiful,” He huffs between thrusts, cheeks growing red. He seems almost bashful, not like the cold, hard Captain you’d been fucking for almost two months. Your expression is equally soft and flustered both from your orgasm and the compliment.
Steve had never complimented you. He'd be dominant, rough and you'd be coy and teasing. Sleepovers weren't common either. You had assumed that this was stress relief for Steve. You had hoped it was just stress relief for you.
Steve doesn't say anything unless he means it and you know he means it. You can see he means it. And it makes your pussy clench around his cock harder as you blush beneath him. He continues to pound into you, guiding you from one orgasm to the next quickly.
"So are you, Stevie." You manage to tell him sincerely, pecking at his lips. "My golden boy."
“Shit, why- why do you have to feel so good?” Steve curses, his head resting against yours, panting gently.
You smirk against his lips. “Are you really complaining about how good my pussy feels, Stevie?”
Steve growls in response and you giggle. Teasing him would never not be fun for you. But when Steve’s teeth graze the nape of your neck you melt, muffling a whimper into the hard chest of his suit. Steve hears it and it drives him wild, his thrusts becoming hard again, driving into you as he gently bites at your flesh.
You cum over his cock as he marks you, the thought of being marked by your so-called enemy; especially with one with so much valour and a representative of good like Captain America, made you insatiable.
"Oh, you like that?" Steve murmurs, kissing the shell of your ear. "You like being marked by me?"
The sounds of your moans intermingle with his thrusts and your eyes roll. You're on cloud nine, maybe even ten, you would let him get away with anything. Then, a thought occurs to you. Steve continues with praises, scolding you for being a brat but you realise something that would push him over the edge.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to look deeply into his eyes as he fucks you before murmuring,
“You want me to be a good girl for you, Stevie?”
Steve's eyes almost turn black and there's a stutter to his thrusting. You smirk up at him, but there's a look in your eyes that say there's a sliver of something more; like you're offering something else entirely.
"Yes." Steve pants. "Yes I want that."
There's a beat of silence and you're both watching eachother, trying to decipher what kind of moment you've just had.
"Maybe we can talk about it over dinner." You suggest, pressing your lips against his; this time more slowly, savouring the taste of him. Steve hums, covering his mouth with yours and exploring your mouth with his tongue. There's a definite shift in how his hips roll into yours languidly; no more scolding, no more marking.
No more Captain.
You're fucking Steve Rogers - and you're adoring every sweet kiss he peppers against your skin, the tenderness of his gaze and how softly he murmurs compliments to you. You adore it so much, you don't realise you're about to cum until it crashes over you, your pussy grasping his cock tightly when you call out his name. Your hands move to the back of his head, pulling him closer to your lips.
"I love how you look when you cum over my cock," He murmurs to you, his thrusts speeding up. You struggle to keep your legs tight over his hips, his ridiculous utility belt digging into your calf painfully, but his words make you whine into his neck.
"You should see how you look when I'm on top," You quip, nipping at his ear to making him growl. "Your cheeks go such a nice shade of pink."
As if on cue, Steve's face flushes and you chuckle. "Just like that," You whisper, kissing him again.
His thrusts don't become wild and erratic like they usually do before he cums. This time they're hard but precise, finding that sweet spot that makes your cunt squeeze him tight.
"Oh fuck - oh, Steve," you moan in warning as you feel yourself on the edge of cumming again.
Steve muffles you yet again with another kiss, hitching an arm under your thigh and drawing it back giving a deeper angle to your cunt. You cry out, the pleasure overwhelming. Steve feels it too, the new angle allowing him somehow deeper into your tight, wet hole makes him shudder and after a few deep thrusts and you cumming over his cock again, he's spent his load inside of you with a gasp of your name.
"Fuck, sweetheart," Steve groans, his cock twitching as he stills inside of you. Steve pants, giving himself all but thirty seconds to recover before tucking himself back into his suit, and checking his watch. He gives you a half apologetic - half cheeky smile.
"Two minutes to spare," He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he climbs from the bed. You lie sprawled, flushed, and fucked-out on the bed. You hadn't been expecting this tonight.
"Ooh, how lucky." You say sarcastically, rolling onto your side, watching him stand in front of you with his hands on his stupid belt again. Your one arm is supporting your head, the other lazily resting across your waist, and you don't need Steve to tell you that you look like a damn succubus waiting for him again.
"Shouldn't you be getting dressed?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. "Uh... cleaned up?"
You smirk back at him, pretending to look at something under your nails. "Oh I didn't tell you? The warrant was voided."
Steve looks aghast and you smile wider. You tap your temple before he can begin to form a response.
"My lawyers called about an hour before you got here. Something about evidence being lost or whatever." You wave a hand dismissively, knowing damn well that that you had paid handsomely for the pigs on your payroll; and for once they had done something right. The evidence of your involvement in a high profile was all but lost, but you knew Steve couldn't resist bringing you in or warning you about some big case. You thought it might have just been a good-bye blow out; not something that had you considering a change in career.
"Now, dinner first or shall we start round two?"
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dorkus-mcdingus ¡ 8 months ago
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A random list of TWST HCs in no particular order
(Keep in mind they can range from general, fluffy, or angsty)
- Sam is bilingual but he speaks the Port O' Bliss (Louisiana) Dialect of French. He also would call Crowley a coullion/couyon (don't know the proper spelling. Sorry!) under his breath whenever that old crow is just yapping instead of paying for his order.
- Malleus had his mind blown when he first heard about milkshakes. I mean you can drink ice cream?! THROUGH A STRAW?! 🤯
- The only time you will ever hear Crewel call himself "daddy" is whenever he gets caught baby talking towards his dogs. Not that he has any shame in doing it.
- Jamil would slip into his mother tongue whenever he gets SUPER pissed off (it's not often when he does but 0/10 would not recommend you do it)
- I pretty much HC a good majority of the twst cast to be bilingual or know a few languages depending on where they come from. Although if they're from the Queendom of Roses, I mainly see them being monolingual but have the ability to read other languages.
- Rollo has vivid nightmares about his brother's death and how he ultimately blames himself for what happened. It's so bad to where the poor boy would rather not fall asleep so he won't see the visions again. The best sort of night is where he doesn't dream. There's nothing but the black void when he closes his eyes.
- I feel like Lilia would be sad hearing the song "Army Dreamers" because it would remind him so much of the war and the many soldiers that died serving Briarland. They were someone's child after all.
- Speaking of Lilia, he can turn on the old soldier voice and it's the one way he knows how to scare the shit out of some of the former soldiers that served with him. However, he would say
"I've spent so long playing soldier that I'm kind of tired of it."
If you ask him why he stopped using that voice. God... Malleus, Silver, and Sebek did a number on that old man.
- If I were to make a guess on Gidel's age, I think he would be around 9 or 10 years old. So it's safe to say that Fellow probably found him when he was either in his late teens or early twenties. Though, I'm more leaning on early twenties for this.
- I got PLENTY of hcs surrounding those two but much like most of the cast, Fellow himself is bilingual and learned the common language through his travels (mother tongue is Italian of course). Despite his limited education, he does try to help Gidel learn how to read and write as best as he can. Gidel is also his biggest priority. I don't think he really minds what happens to him as long as Gidel is happy, has food in his stomach, and his clothes are well mended but Gidel in turn knows how much Fellow has been suffering for their sake.
- Gidel also understands Italian but also the common language as well. Due to his limitations with reading and writing, one of the ways he is able to overcome the barrier when it comes to communication is miming or nodding and shaking his head. Sometimes what he's trying to say does get lost in translation but he and Fellow have such a tight knit bond that his big brother can understand him perfectly and can translate what he's saying if someone is having difficulty understanding him. He is a very streetwise kid underneath that adorable smile but is also a rather sensitive individual and can feel when someone is in pain or unhappy especially if it's Fellow
- A favorite story of our favorite scheming duo is "The Emperor's New Clothes"
- Yuu/MC has a tradition of welcoming the Halloween guest characters as honorary members of Ramshackle Dorm by making them perform a hazing ritual of having them take care of Grim when it's his bath time. Grim's a little bastard about it too especially towards Fellow and Rollo (I'm unsure about Skully but I'll update once the event is complete).
- Azul is the worst person to play Monopoly against
- I feel like the Tweels would sing a jazzy version of "People = Shit" with Azul playing the piano but the more he heard the two chaos gremlins sing, the more he wanted to crawl into an octopus pot
- Pre-overblot Riddle would definitely have a stroke reading The Cat in the Hat especially since the moral is that sometimes a little rule breaking is fine as long as it doesn't go too far
- If you think Azul is the most annoying person to play Monopoly against, Ace would know all the ways to piss you off in Uno. I think the first years playing Uno would be both one hilarious sight to witness but also the worst because of how much those boys are going to be fighting with each other.
- Despite Grim saying he's not a cat, his cuddles and purrs can soothe one's soul despite how much he's a little bastard most of the time. It's little moments like these where the MC thinks it's worth it putting up with his attitude and his black hole of a stomach
- Dylla was definitely a delinquent in her youth and the apple didn't fall far from the tree when it came to her son. Although her son may struggle in terms of academics, the fact that Deuce is trying to clean up his act and reform is something that always makes her swell with pride.
- If Maleanor were still alive, she would've been the CUTEST grandma! Although I do think that the fact that her son is close friends with a human does make her feel uneasy because she doesn't want him to get hurt like how humans have hurt her. Although I do also think that Lilia would often visit her grave and tell her of the many milestones that happened to him and her son.
- Despite the fact that Trein's daughters are all grown up, they still keep in contact with their father to make sure he's doing okay and their conversations can get LONG but I don't think the professor minds at all. Any time he spends with his children whether he's home or on a call, he treasures it.
- I feel like knowing that Crowley likes wild game and Vargas himself is a hunter, I wouldn't be surprised if he took the headmage on a hunting trip. I also think that Vargas would give the fur to Crewel if he needs some material. The man may be a muscle head but he's not wasteful when it comes to hunting for game meat.
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onlylurkingreadingstuff ¡ 1 year ago
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I saw a recent reblog you did where you listed some fic recs and then tagged with your fic preferences, which are pretty much my own, favoring canon compliance fics where they're angel/demon (though I have read some 'temporarily human' AUs I've liked). Do you have a collected rec list? Or any more recs you might toss out? Thanks so much!
Oh gosh yes.
I’m going to assume you have already explored the other fics bu the authors in the first rec post I made- everything by @redfacesmiley, @books-and-omens , @racketghost , and Drawlight/ripeteeth is a stunner. Also dig through equestrianstatue and @darcylindbergh for real gems.
When I’m reading I find a fic I like, dig through all the author’s other fics, then look at the author’s bookmarks because I figure if they wrote something I like that much, they saved things I’ll like too.
Fell free to dig through my AO3 bookmarks- they are completely unorganized and I bookmark things I want to read later or think I might want to read again, basicly anything I might want to find again- so I haven’t even read all of them. BUT! Here are some more of THOSE FICS for me:
It's Funny Because Nobody Ever Says “Burkina Faso” by indieninja92
TIME LOOP TIME LOOP TIME LOOP!!!!
So funny omg. Azi is just DONE and I am here for it. It’s a locked fic to AO3 accounts so I’m not sure if the link will work-
What I shed for You by @darcylindbergh
This fic- this freakin fic!! I did not think I would ever go for a fic that was NOT azicrow but oh my god this one is so good.
But You My Dear Are An Ocean by megzseatle
After nursing his broken heart, Crowley moves on. He gets a cottage and relocates to South Downs to start over, and finds himself beloved in a small town where the people take him under their (proverbial) wing. His new friends are in no mood for charity when his ex shows back up- while Crowley might be able to forgive Az, the townspeople have a harder time with the bastard that broke dear Anthony’s heart.
If I’ve had a bad day and need to cheer up, I read this book! Omens sweet story.
…And if I’m in an emotionally stable place I will read this angsty heartbreaker. So beautiful, just so good.
Idiot/ Guts (and a load of Warbirgon’s Farmhouse White) / Ellipsis by @theyellowestmustard
A little slice of perfect right here.
I also love outsider POV criptids of soho stories- here are two good ones, one set in a coffee shop and one in a bakery.
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kandisheek ¡ 7 months ago
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FIC REC WEEK 47 – CANON DIVERGENCE
SERIES: Guys and Bots by Annie D (scaramouche)
Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 33,357 Tags: First Kiss, Flirting, Banter
Reasons why I love it: At this point it's no secret that I love everything Annie D has ever written, and this series is no exception. It's funny, emotional, fluffy and angsty in turns, and it's a rollercoaster ride that I will always come back for more of. If you like fantastic characterization, great humor and a wonderful ending, then you're going to love this one just as much as I do!
This series consists of:
Stick With Me, baby, I'm the Fella You Came in With
Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 10,660 Tags: First Time, Light-Hearted, Humor
Summary: During the final battle with Ultron, Tony kisses Steve for the first time. Afterward, he makes it clear to Steve that he was just running on adrenaline and not thinking clearly. Steve seems to accept it, but the kiss nudges open a door of possibilities, and the situation escalates.
Reasons why I love it: They're both such dorks, I love them! That game of chicken they're playing is so much fun to see, and the emotional moments hit all the harder for how light-hearted and fluffy the rest of the fic is. This fic makes me so happy, and it's the perfect start to a fantastic series!
You Gamble on Everything, All Except Me
Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 17,763 Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff, Post-AoU
Summary: Tony learns what it’s like to date Steve.
Reasons why I love it: The dialogue in this just kills me with how good it is. Annie D's writing always does that to me, but there's something about this one in particular that just stuck with me. In related news, the smut is scorchingly hot, and the Accords angst at the end is one of the best ways I've seen that entire mess dealth with. I adore it, and I bet you will too!
If I were a Bell
Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 4,217 Tags: Bittersweet, Long-Distance Relationship, Bearded Steve
Summary: Officially, Tony hasn't seen Steve since the Sokovia Accords were ratified. Unofficially, Steve is a sneaky bastard who keeps taking risks to see Tony whenever he wants.
Reasons why I love it: It's rare that the aftermath of the Civil War is handled with such understanding and care on both sides, and I love that Annie D gave us a version that doesn't hurt but instead inspires hope. Plus, Tony's fixation on Steve's beard is hilarious, and the smut is hot as hell, as usual. I love this one so much!
Timestamp: Guys and Bots
Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: G Words: 717 Tags: Infinity War, Magic, Avengers Team
Summary: Heading into the events of Avengers: Infinity War.
Reasons why I love it: This timestamp feels like a perfect little bow on top of a Christmas present. Honestly, I could read a billion more words in this universe, but this is such a perfect ending that I can't imagine anything topping it. If you haven't read this series yet, I really hope you give it a try, because it's absolutely fantastic!
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jackassbrainrot ¡ 10 months ago
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could you pretty pretty pls write about ehren? I like the idea of him comforting someone because he knows what it’s like to be not taken seriously or be made the butt of the joke a lot… obvs it’s up to you but thanks for your time!!
uncool as me [danger ehren x gn!reader]
desc: ehren comforts you after a hard day on set
a/n: EHREN MY BABYYYY <33 first time writing him so idk how good it is but I should absolutely write more of him! thank u for the req and hope you enjoy it <3
warnings: hurt comfort, kinda angsty at the beginning but mostly fluffy
word count: 534
You sat behind a trailer, your forehead resting on your knees which were pressed to your chest, hands wrapped around your legs. You just needed a moment to yourself. It has been a long day.
It's not that picking on each other was a rare occurrence on set, for god's sake, it's Jackass. But you felt like every joke today was on you. You couldn't think of one moment when Bam wasn't trying to fuck with you, messing up your stunts, or when Johnny wasn't throwing jabs your way, his sickly sweet southern accent failing to mask the malice in his voice for once.
Hearing footsteps approaching, you try to compose yourself as much as you can. "You're in my spot." Ehren's soft voice surprises you, since you were prepared to be laughed at again. "Sorry." You mumble out, going to stand up before you feel his gentle hand on your shoulder as he sits down next to you. "No need to, I was kind of expecting to find you here." You cock your head to the side slightly, a confused look on your face.
"This is usually where I go when I get it that bad too." He says sympathetically, offering you a knowing smile. "Yeah, I guess it's worse for you, isn't it?" You breathe out, mirroring his smile. "You get used to it." He shrugs his shoulders. "It's not like they really mean it anyway, they're just natural assholes."
Laughing at his comment, you think to yourself that's why it's called jackass. "They don't get it as bad, though." You say somewhat sadly. "Because Bam will cry if you say anything to him, and Knoxville will get Tremaine on your ass, the bastard." That last comment is said so sincerely, you were sure it has happened to him before. "And Preston gets it real bad too! And O had a fish hook in his mouth! And-" You listened to him ramble about every shitty stunt the guys had to do, retelling every moment someone got messed with on set.
As you listen to his stories, you feel your mood getting better, his sincere attempt at cheering you up succeeding. "-and in any case, you'll never get it as bad as me!" He beams as if it's a good thing, his goofy smile making you smile too. "You're such a dork, Danger." You lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder, sides pressed together. You feel his skin heating up, a blush spreading over it at the contact. He sheepishly wraps his arm around your shoulder.
"We're both equally uncool and I think that's cool!" He exclaims excitedly, making you melt and cuddle closer to him. "I think you're cool too, Ehren." You say into his shoulder, wrapping your hands around his waist, hugging him tighly. He hugs you back, arms wrapped around your shoulders, a goofy smile on his face that you couldn't see.
"Where the fuck are those two losers!?" You hear a yell from behind the trailer, causing you both to laugh before getting up and running back to work. Suddenly, everyone's annoying comments were affecting you less, stealing glances at Ehren for the rest of the day.
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