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#“The truth is I am a child in a way. A child who spends his time alone and never gets to do anything interesting.”
maddymoreau · 1 year
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Thinking about how Diavolo’s feelings transcend time and how in the Nightbringer UR+ card Demon Lord’s Castle Tour this conversation happens.
When asked, “Do you wish to see your father?”
Diavolo responds:
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“I suppose I do . . .” isn’t the typical reaction to how a child would feel about wanting to see their parent. Especially when said parent has essentially been in a coma for a year.
Along with how Diavolo describe his father.
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It makes more sense why when you learn in Lesson 56 how Diavolo was treated by him growing up.
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Diavolo can tell when others are lying but is unable to understand his father’s intentions.
Diavolo mentions that he lived a very sheltered life growing up. That from a young age his father never allowed him a chance to talk to anyone outside the castle.
His childhood friend was Mephistopheles. A demon literally RAISED to be his friend. Putting a barrier between the two because Mephistopheles would put Diavolo on a pedestal.
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The isolating childhood he experienced riddled with his strict father constantly scolding him.
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Despite everything MC is so important to him he wants to see his father again so we can meet.
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oatbugs · 2 years
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thinking abt that psychology lecture where they taught us how thinking about good memories makes your life obiectively better over time
#personal#i think i subconsciously equated memory and nostalgia. and i dislike the feeling of nostalgia so i avoided so many memories#i asked the masters student if every love song he listens to is about philosophy and he said everything is#everything is about the thing you love if you love it enough. i saw a star through the london light pollution (caught in an eternal nightly#daylight) . i was with a friend and another friend who had just gotten an unexpected diagnosis#we told her congratulations you're autistic and that means you may now explore a revolutionary depth#inside yourself. and it was all still about philosophy. (you sent us back a letter in said in capital letters#THE UNIVERSE IS GOING TO CATCH YOU.) one day i grabbed my friends arm and we jumped over a rusted metal fence#the soap-beaten bleach-eaten clothes i was wearing at the time still smell like rust and metal#for a brief moment i sympathise with the rusted case of a computer i saw when i was 5. i wondered if it had died#violently. i am spending my life protecting their ability to learn. and each time i ask a neural network what led to its choice of#planetary object it gives me the same blank stare of a young child which is in truth a black box to drown in.#when i was too young and i used to think of death too often i imagined my body was a machine. i imagined#liquid gold around my joints. i could never hurt a machine. i could never hurt a body that was a machine.#my neuroscience professor paused after a long lecture and told us#your body is not a computer,it is a flawed and gooey and imprecise mechanism. your nervous sytem is an intricate machine.#is every song about philosophy? is every song about the way machines learn? on the weekend i ignore the parts of him that have#rotted and pull the passion right out of his nerves. he told me he needs a way to kickstart critical periods so that he may learn well agai#and i told him taking every drug on the planet wont make a clever brain cleverer. he confessed he didnt plan#on making it far enough for it to matter. i checked his pulse and i told him that his body is a liquid imprecise delicate machine.#sometimes you become terrible but you are not an exception to being a winged thing. if you hold me you will smell like metal for the rest#of your life.
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Rescue pt. 2: knight!price x princess!reader
Warnings: talk of pregnancy, medieval standards for women
A little longer than normal
Sir John Price’s hands were gentler than they looked.
He led you to the river when he saw the cut on your arm, and had you sit on a nearby rock. He barely said a word to you, just merely told you to sit while he grabbed a pouch out of his horses saddle and went to the river.
When he returned, he came back with a wet rag and kneeled beside you. He hesitated to touch you before he gently began to clean the blood from your skin.
You expected him to hold your arm firmly, to pull at your skin and create friction but instead he held you delicately. He was careful as he cleaned your wound, his gentleness a stark contrast to the bloodshed he created just moments before.
Every touch from his warm fingers made goosebumps form and set your skin aflame.
You jerked when the wound stung and he stopped.
“I’m sorry, my hands are rougher than most.” He apologized as if he caused the wound.
You’re at a loss of what to say.
You’d never seen this side to him, to the knight who you bickered and fought with, who you were sure hated your guts, who had become your shadow. You thought he was incapable of it, or at the very least incapable of showing this side to you.
“It was irresponsible for you to run off like that.” He scolded you and you scowled.
“Save the lecture, I’m not a child.” You snapped at him and his eyes narrowed.
“You run off into the forest without a care, you play into fantasies about secret admirers and ignore your duty as a princess-“
“Watch the way you speak to me.”
“Someone should tell you the truth, I’m not afraid of you.”
You pushed him away and stood up. You hated the way hands shook as you glared at him.
“You know nothing about me!” You shouted. “My entire life is for my people and I have always put them first. I spend every moment waiting for the day I’m sold like cattle in the name of peace while everyone looks at me like I’m a prize to be won.”
Your mouth moved faster than your thoughts. It was improper to your knight this, to even speak of your thoughts like this out loud but you were at your wits end.
“I listen to others boast about themselves so I can choose them while they don’t even see me-“
“You seemed happy when the king did it-“
“Because it’s my duty! If I don’t marry him then i am failure…I am nothing more than a link in a chain of security.”
Your throat was tight and you could hardly breathe.
“My life has never been my choice.” You choked out. “I am destined to be an object that creates an heir and thrown to the side once I’ve served my purpose.”
Price was silent and your ragged breaths were the only thing that took up the air.
You felt awful for your feelings. These things were irresponsible, you were selfishly thinking more about yourself than the greater good but you were so desperate for something different.
“Why did you run?” Price asked, his tone softer.
You blinked as the back of your eyes stung with tears.
“I had to get away.”
Your emotions swirled like a storm within you, your thoughts a mess. The attack, your marriage, his kindness, it was all too much.
A surge of tears hit you and you sat down on the rock again, hiding your face in your hands as they began to fall down your face. You stifled your sobs because you didn’t want to degrade yourself anymore in front of him.
He stepped in front of you.
“Your highness, do you wish to marry the king?” Price’s voice was calm and firm yet there was a softness that struck your chest.
“I have to-“
“No.”
Your eyebrows knitted together and you looked up from your hands.
Price kneeled in front of you, much like how squires are when they wait for the Queen to knight them so they can serve the kingdom. His cold blue eyes stared at you as if he waited for a command, a sort of devotion only one could have for someone who they served implicitly.
He waited patiently for you to answer, his eyes trained on your face as you wiped away your tears.
You debated on whether you should say it or not, but he already thought you irresponsible. What more did you have to lose?
“No.”
Price stated at you for a moment before he seemed to come to terms with what you said. There was a sense of finality in his eyes as he nodded, before he stood and pulled out the pouch.
“Let me finish tending to your wound, your highness.” He began to apply a salve that cool the irritation of your cut. “Then I’ll escort you back to the castle.”
You didn’t protest as he wrapped the wound with a cloth.
After he had helped you on his horse he led you through the forest back towards the castle. You were still at war with yourself, utterly exhausted and a mess of emotions as you sealed your fate to be married to the king in just a week.
You tried to control your tears which only led to more falling as you sniffled like a child.
“I’m sorry.” You’re not sure why or what you apologized for.
“I won’t judge you.” He assured you. “Even if you stain the saddle.”
You scoffed, a smile pulling at your lips even as you let a few more tears slip.
Once you were back at the castle he helped you down from his horse, his hand against yours creating a sort of shock between the both of you before you bid him goodnight.
You did your best to hid your wound until you were in the safety of your bedchamber, where you found yourself having finally given up on being free.
~
Sir John Price had never felt such anger when he saw you cry.
It had never really occurred to him that you would feel the way you did, trapped and worthless, when you were more than that. He never realized that the suitors who he thought you entertained because you wanted to, made you feel that way, that he made you feel that way.
He’d think more on it if he had the time. He wanted to do more than what he was going to do, but there was only so much a knight could do.
Your tears and words stirred something inside him.
Price watched you enter the castle, his hand trembling from your touch. Your skin was softer than he imagined, warmer than the rays of the sun, and had sent a current of electricity through him.
What he was about to do was risky, but he was willing to take that leap if it meant it dried your tears.
He returned to the barracks, where he had called a meeting between his own men before he managed to catch a glimpse of you running to the forest.
He was lucky he had got there in time. He felt sick thinking about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t. The rage he felt seeing blood on you was unprecedented for him.
Fate seemed to be in his favor however. Sir Simon Riley had returned from the king’s kingdom after he had sent him there for information as he refused to let the Queen marry you off without first knowing who the king was.
From what he saw today, he was not much. Even a knight like himself could see the taint he carried and he couldn’t believe the Queen allowed it, so he hoped that she didn’t know any better.
He desperation to marry you off was worrisome but he didn’t have time for that.
“What did you find?” Price asked when he returned to the table.
“A declaration of war, yet to be announced.” Simon set the scroll on the table. “And no money.”
“Steamin’ Jesus, he wants to pulls us into war.” Sir John MacTavish uncrossed his arms in disbelief.
“We’re not equipped for this.” Kyle said and looked to Price. “Not without proper preparation.”
Price stared at the pieces of paper. The audacity the king had to exploit the Queen in such a way, knowing that he could’ve had support if he had asked, but perhaps he wanted to assurance there would be if he married you, especially since he had no money.
It would embarrass her. It was enough reason to call of the wedding.
Enough reason to save you.
The moment you told him that you truly did not want to marry the king, he told himself he would find a way to break the marriage between the two of you by any means necessary.
“The Queen won’t stand for this.” Price swayed his hips. “I’ll notify her immediately.”
“Delving into politics, sir?” Kyle teased and he huffed.
“Kate’s gone, I have no choice.”
He took the pieces of paper and walked towards the castle. He was just as convincing as Kate could be and with evidence it wouldn’t be hard.
He was determined to not fail and though it was uncommon for him to show himself at the Queen’s quarters he was not afraid of what she might say to him.
“Your majesty,” he bowed deeply when she answered the door. “I have troubling information about our guest.”
~
The next morning was tense. The throne room lacked the regular court but the Queen and you sat in your throne’s while the king stood the eyes of your mother’s judgement.
Price stood at the bottom of stairs and watched the panic course through the king with indifference.
“You lied to me, to my daughter and expect us to take it lightly?” The Queen’s words were laced with venom.
“It wasn’t a lie, your majesty!” He protested but she raised her hand to stop him.
“I ask for peace and you bring me war, I ask for prosperity and you give me nothing.”
Price glanced at you and noticed the shock on your face. You were told to join your mother suddenly and the new information had been kept tightly sealed until this moment to keep the scandal at a minimum. You had gone into this blind and though he regretted that, he hoped your relief would make up for it.
“We are a strong kingdom who values strong allies, you are more reckless than a wild boar.” The Queen spat and the king sputtered. “I’ll have none of this in my court.”
The king tried to come up with some excuse but The Queen stood up. The air was thick as he looked down her nose at him.
“Sir John,” she said and Price looked to her. “Have your men escort him out the castle.”
“Yes, your majesty.” He bowed as she made her way out of the throne room.
“We will discuss your marriage another day, my darling.” She said to you and all you could do was nod.
Price watched his men escort the king out of throne room and all that was left was him and you.
He turned to you and you shared a look.
You looked surprised but visibly relieved. You stared at him with a sense of awe but also uncertainty as if you couldn’t quite believe what happened. Thought he didn’t outright say it was him, he was sure you had your suspicions about whether or not this was his doing.
He hopes that maybe this would partially make up for his mistakes against you.
“This was irresponsible, Sir John.” You finally said and he raised an eyebrow.
“My duty is to protect the crown…” he argued. “If you’re implying that this was my doing, however I can assure you I had no hand in this.”
You quirked an eyebrow and the corner of your lips twitched. He couldn’t help but admire the twinkle of amusement in your eyes with a sense of awe that struck him harder than anything before.
It was a small lie, one to save face and to provide a chance to keep sentimental feelings at bay for the time being.
“Is that so, sir?”
“It would seem it.”
You stood up and made your way to him. There was a sense of vulnerability within your eyes as you struggled to meet his and he found himself almost begging that you would look at him.
“Thank you.” You said barely above a whisper.
Price blinked a couple times and before he bowed.
“Of course, your highness.”
A/n: what does Price say? Violence and timing? He sure if efficient when it comes to you.
Tags. @deadbranch @makayla-666 @glitterypirateduck @dumbbitchgalore @m0chac0ffee @dragonbe-writing @sleepyoriana @twismare @blush-haze
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strawberryspence · 1 year
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They both have different stories when asked, "When did you first meet?"
Steve says it was in school, along the hallways with freshman Steve Harrington and sophomore Eddie Munson locking eyes for the first time. Eddie says it was in a party, drinking beer and selling drugs, a transaction.
Annalyn Harrington knows the truth. The truth that way before monsters, way before creatures from games came true, way before the end of the world, way before everything, that Eddie and Steve have already met.
Annalyn remembers it, so vividly at the back of her mind. She babysits her nephew— her younger sister, Amanda's son— so often. Steve is an angel, so innocent and kind. Annalyn often questions as to how Richard Harrington could've ever had a son so pure and good.
She remembers that day. It was a bright spring day, with fresh daisies growing on the fields and birds chirping in excitement.
Annalyn takes Steve out of his school a few hours early, takes him to eat at his favorite diner. When Steve begs for her to take him to the park, telling her he really wants to play and how could she say no to those brown eyes?
It's relatively empty when they arrive at the park. It's only after lunch and the kids are still in class. But there's one kid playing in the swings, his hair is curly at the ends, wearing a tattered jacket as he kicks the sands. His guardian— a man sitting on the only bench— is watching him closely. He's frowning, deep in thought.
"Go play. Be nice." Annalyn reminds Steve, more as a habit rather than a reminder. She knows Steve will be kind, it's engraved in his soul.
Annalyn sits beside the man, quietly watching as they hear Steve introduce himself to the kid.
"Hello! I am Steve!" She hears him say, waving slightly at the kid.
The kid looks at him, blinks for a few seconds before he says his name. They chatter for a few more minutes, Steve asks if he wants to be pushed and the boy says yes.
Annalyn turns to the man, "Is that your son?"
The man turns to her, "I— Yes— No— It's complicated." He sighs, gritting his teeth so hard Annalyn can see his jaw clenching, "He's my nephew. I just got custody of him today."
"Oh." Annalyn breathes out, looking back at the kid who's now pushing Steve instead. Both laughing and giggling.
"I don't know what I am doing. I can barely take care of myself, let alone a child." The man continues, clearly frustrated and scared, "But he's never got a good home and I want to give that to him."
Annalyn smiles, "Just the fact that you want to give him a good home is telling me that you'll be just fine. Don't overthink it, life's too short for that."
The man blinks at her, and it's almost the same as the look the small boy gave to Steve, "Thank you." He says, finally smiling and looking back at the kids, running around and playing tag with each other.
"Steve's your boy?" He asks.
Annalyn smiles, "Yeah, he's my boy. Not my son, just my nephew. But I love him like he's mine."
The man softens, nodding along like he completely understands— which he does.
They spend half of the afternoon there. Just playing, rolling around the grass, swinging each other in the swings. Just before the sun sets, Annalyn asks Steve to say goodbye to the boy.
There's daisies tucked in his hair like flower crowns, and she sees the other boy, with a flower tucked behind his ear. They're whispering, too intimate for a simple goodbye.
Steve waves at the boy, head sticking out of the car, waving until they can barely see the other boy anymore and until they turn the block.
When Steve sits, he turns to her and with his big brown eyes blown wide, with his whole heart in his hands and says, "I am going to marry that boy."
And Annalyn steps on the break, turns to the side of the road and has to turn to her nephew and look at him— really, look at him. Steve smiles at her, toothy and all gummy, determination bleeding in his eyes. The flowers the boy Steve just said he's going to marry still hanging from his hair.
She can't help but smile, moving closer to kiss his temple.
"Alright, Mr. Lover." Steve giggles, and she wants to hear it for the rest of her life, want to shield him from all the horrors of this world.
"Listen to me, okay?" Steve nods, "There's nothing wrong with wanting to marry a boy. But you have to promise me something, Steve? Okay?"
He nods, earnest, "It needs to be our little secret for now, okay? You have to promise me."
Steve's face droop into sadness, "Why?"
Annalyn's heart breaks into pieces, "Because people don't like it when a boy wants to marry another boy. There's nothing wrong with it, but they will hurt you and they will hurt that boy."
"They can't hurt him!" Steve protests.
"I know, honey. That's why we have to keep it a secret for now."
"Okay," Steve nods, stoic and strong, "I'll protect him. I won't tell anyone. Promise."
Annalyn smiles, "Good job, Steve. I am proud of you."
They drive back home, have dinner and build forts in the spacious Harrington living room.
She remembers that day. The day Steve wanted to marry that boy. The daisies tucked in his hair. The other little boy beaming so brightly, like it's always been meant to be. The results of the tests. The cancer coming back. The chemo is not working. The time she has left. But most of all, she remembers Steve.
Annalyn dies six months after that exact day.
It's years and years later when the story is brought back up. On one random morning when Steve visits her grave, with a bunch of tulips in his hands. Steve tells the story of the boy with the daisies to his best friend, Robin, as they sit side by side by her grave. Steve tells her, that he never saw the boy again.
Annalyn laughs as she listens.
She laughs, as another boy comes out of no where, picnic basket in hands, and daisies in the other.
"Eddie! You're late!" Steve exclaims, making the other boy roll his eyes. The boy looks different now, with longer hair, a look in his eyes that is way beyond his age. But he's happier, older.
"I am sorry, Stevie. But I picked you this."
They lay the blanket, and eat with her, just like old times, just with new friends. Annalyn wishes she could say hello, and formally meet his friends. The friends that sticked with Steve even in life or death situations.
Steve cleans her grave, "Auntie, we're here for a reason. I have some news."
Annalyn raises her eyebrows, "Eddie and I— We're engaged."
"I hope to God you don't haunt me. I just want your approval." Eddie says, making Steve laugh. It's the same sound as when he was a kid, and only Eddie (and his found family) can elicit it from him nowadays.
"Anyway, it's not legal or anything. But we're doing it with family, you know?" Steve plays with the ring in his hand, just a simple golden band, "I wish you were here."
Annalyn wants to tell him that she is, that she's always here, "I wanted you to walk me down the aisle. I want you to meet Eddie."
They stay for a few more minutes, before they finally start packing up and cleaning.
Just before they leave, Steve whispers to her grave, "Come to my wedding, okay? Move a few glasses. Maybe say hi to El or something. Just be there, please?"
Annalyn laughs, and nods, and promises that she'll be there. She watches as Steve and Eddie, hands intertwined, walk together as Robin starts the car.
Steve turns one last time, waves at her grave, his engagement ring catching sunlight and beaming. There's daisies tucked in his back pocket, like a reminder, that everything has been set from the moment we were born.
If there's one thing about Steve, he's a stubborn, determined kid.
Annalyn smirks, "Son of a bitch, Steve really is marrying the daisy boy."
→ Wayne's POV
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dark-and-kawaii · 5 months
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your pregnancy ficlets are super sweet! How about Halsin finding out tav is pregnant 🥰
Halsin would/does make the best dad. When he was worried about the kids not getting a bedtime story from him I wanted to cry. I go feral for big ol’ guys with a soft heart, and he’s like the poster man for that.
༺ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥 ༻
♡ Halsin | Pregnancy - Fluff
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In the midst of a small flower field, bathed in the golden rays of the sun, you sat in the forest. Halsin, in his bear form, approaches you silently, attempting to surprise you. But as always, you are keenly aware of his presence. Chuckling softly to yourself you continue plucking a pink flower, and with a playful tone you remark, "You'd have better luck sneaking up on me if you were a cat, you know."
Halsin nudges your back gently with his large furry head, emitting a low, affectionate grunt as he settles down beside you. Resting against his solid form, you're enveloped in a unique comfort only he can provide, afterall, it’s not everyday someone gets with a bear. Twirling the flower wreath you've been weaving, you muse, "I'm considering changing these to yellow blossoms, what do you think?" You glance at him, your look soft and affectionate as he cocks his head, ears perked, you know his bearish confusion was a silent compliment to your creation.
Your laughter is light as your fingers trace the fur between his eyes. "Yellow's quite the neutral choice," Halsin watches you, his gaze intent, absorbing every word you speak, “Hmm, or maybe I should do white instead, but that’s just- no. That’s a terrible idea.” He continues to listen, studying your expression intently, as if trying to decipher the message behind your words.
“If it's a boy," you continue, your eyes lingering on the wreath, "I don't think he'd appreciate all these shades of pink." Your gaze meets Halsin's, a playful glimmer in your eyes. "And if it's a girl, well, pink seems to be the only answer. But how am I supposed to know? I'm no seer." You raise an eyebrow, your eyes searching his face. Suddenly, his wide brown eyes illuminate, and in a burst of radiant energy, Halsin stands before you, transformed back into his glorious elven body. "Is it true? You spoke of the truth just now?" he asks, his voice filled with awe and excitement.
Joining him in standing, a smile spreads across your face, and you nod, uttering the words he longed to hear, "It's true, my love." Unable to contain his joy, Halsin bursts into laughter, engulfing you in his arms as he spins you around, expressing his elation in that moment of pure bliss.
Halsin's laughter fills the forest as he spins you around, his joy palpable in the warm embrace. "By the Great Oak Father!" he exclaims, his eyes shining with happiness. You both come to a stop, and Halsin cups your face in his hands, his expression overflowing with love. "Our love, our bond, will be forever sealed in this precious life."
The forest and flowers around you seemed to come alive with vibrant colors, the gentle breeze carrying the sweet scent of the blooms. It feels as if though nature is celebrating alongside you.
As the initial rush of excitement settles, Halsin lowers himself to one knee, holding your hand close to him. "My heart, I promise to be there for you and our child every step of the way. I will protect and cherish both of you with all that I am."
Tears of joy well up in your eyes as you meet his gaze. "And I promise to stand by your side, Halsin, as I always have.”
Halsin's grin widens as he rises from his knee, his eyes never leaving yours. "I have no doubt that we will raise a child who embodies both the strength of the wild and the wisdom of the druids. They will be surrounded by love, nature, and the embrace of the elements."
With hearts filled with excitement and anticipation, you and Halsin spend the rest of the day in the forest, basking in the joy of your upcoming journey as parents. As the sun sets, casting a mesmerizing glow across the landscape, you can't help but feel an incredible sense of gratitude for the life growing within you and the love that binds you both together.
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thebubblesareevil · 1 year
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Family grows, it evolves…
Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
There was a new exhibit on Ancient Greece at the museum, and as the resident expert Diana was given free range of the exhibit. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue, normally the League doesn’t find a clone of one of its founding members and spend a, frankly, ridiculous amount of time deciding how to proceed.
Diana sighed as she looked at the large room filled with artifacts needing to be catalogued before display. She lamented not having the same speed as the flash for but a moment before getting to work. It was 5:00, if she wanted to get any sleep tonight, she needed to get to work.
She steadily made her way through stacks of paperwork, working with the efficiency that was drilled into her since birth. It had been hours since she began her work, and though she tired, she resolved to head home to get changed for the next day. It wasn’t until she made her way from the basement that she realized something was off. Doris was sitting at reception, though she should have left at 8:00, the sun was still high in the sky, not yet ready to make its decent.
“Calling it an early night, Diana?” Doris asked “Big day tomorrow! Finally setting up the new exhibit. I can’t wait to take the kids, they’re so excited to see it.” She said with a wide smile. Diana surveyed the desk, catching a glance the clock. There in bold numbers and as 7:00pm, she smiled as she replied.
“I finished things up sooner than planned, so I thought I’d head out for the night. I need to get dinner started before my guest arrives.” Doris’ face nearly split in two.
“A guest, is he handsome, oh how could you hold out on me Diana!?” She said excitedly “I need all the details!” Diana laughed.
“Nothing like that, my Grandfather decided to pop in for a surprise visit. I haven’t seen him in quite some time, so it’s a lovely surprise.” Doris nodded along.
“You’re a good grandkid. I miss my grandparents everyday, you never know how much time you’ve got.” She said with a sigh. “Have a good night!”
“All the time in the world.” She said to herself, checking her watch and grinning. It read 4:30 am, she yawned as she left, making her way back to her apartment.
Everything thing was silent when she arrived, though that was to be expected at this point. She wade her way to the kitchen passing by the figure on the couch.
“Would you like some tea? Do you drink at all?” She inquired.
“I am perfectly capable, though I rarely indulge.” He replied in a monotone voice, if she had been anyone else she like would not have caught the edge of sadness clinging to his voice. Diana set the kettle on the stove and made her way over to the couch.
“Something troubles you, something big enough to approach me after all these years.” Clockwork smiled “You’re much sharper than your father ever was” the smile dropped.
“You are aware of the multiverse.” He said, Diana nodded. “As the Master of time, I bear witness to each world, each time line. There exists a world where humans built a bridge to the Infinite Realms, creating a being both born and killed by the infinite.” Diana gave him her upmost attention. “Sometime ago I was tasked with the elimination of this creature, this child, to prevent the tragedy he would bring upon that world.” He smiled “I was never one to listen to orders though, and instead I set the boy on a path that would bring about great change… it had unexpected side effects.”
“What kind of side effects?” Diana asked, worried.
“He began to cling to me, seeking me out for advice. I even found him asleep in my clock tower more than once. I have admittedly come to see him as my grandson.” Clockwork have a soft smile “He reminded me so much of you when we first met.” He sighed “I am here to ask a favor, young Danny is approaching a crossroads. There are two possible paths his timeline might take, one where he lives of the rest of his years moving between living in dead, his truth hidden from those who wish him harm. However there is another path, one I fear is becoming more and more likely than the last.” Diana had never seen her grandfather look so old, his entire form shifting to match his tone.
“What is it? What is going to happen?” Clockwork looked at her with sad, tired eyes.
“He will be betrayed, from this betrayal he will suffer such agony that the Realms themselves will retaliate. Then he will sleep eternal, bound to the infinite. His world destroyed.” Diana gasped. She placed a hand over his,
“What do you need me to do?” She asked firmly.
“Should the worst come about, I intend to steal him away from that world. Cutting off its connection to the realms permanently. However he is a being of both life and death, he cannot neglect his human half. What I ask of you is this, that you allow this boy to stay here, with you. There is no one else I would trust with such a task.” Diana hesitated.
She was a warrior, trained for battle from birth. She knew nothing of caring for a child. She thought her grandfather intended for her assist him in battle but this…. She looked at her grandfather, his sad eyes resigned, as though he expected her to refuse.
“Very well, on one condition.”
“Anything my dear.” She smiled.
“You must visit more, when last we met I told you I needed time. You gave me that, now I ask once more for time, time spent together.” She nearly jumped as his form shifted to that of a child.
“Nothing would please me more.”
“And grandfather? Should the worst not pass, I would still like to meet tho cousin of mine.” Clockwork froze, before he practically melted.
“Of course.” His form shifted once more to that of a young adult. Diana smiled pulling her grandfather into a hug.
“Thank you.” He whispered and he was gone. The kettle screamed. Diana got ready for a long nights rest.
—————————
A week passed before she heard anything from her grandfather. It was to the night before the opening of her new exhibit and she expected everything to go as planned. Just as she was picking out what she was going to wear to the gala, the sound of cars outside her window stopped.
“What do you think? Red or black?” She asked as she turned around holding the two dresses. Her grandfather stood tall, a stern look on his face. Diana set down the dresses. “It happened, didn’t it?” Clockwork nodded. Making his way towards the living room he stopped by the couch. There, asleep on her couch was a young teen, not much older than some of her teammates protégés. He had pitch black hair and pale skin, with lightning scars crawling up his neck. He chest did not move.
“He’s not breathing!” She turned to her grandfather, but he appeared unbothered. He smiled, watching the boy sleep.
“As I said before, he is a being of both life and death, sometime pieces of one form bleed into the other.” He turned to Diana, “He needs his rest, as for your first question, the blue dress will suit you much better on this occasion.” Diana gave him a soft smile.
“Come, I shall make us some tea while you tell me more about my cousin.” Clockwork nodded, taking a moment to readjust the blanket around the teen, before heading to the kitchen.
——————-
When Danny woke, to the sound of people talking he had a horrid migraine. He did his best to ignore the pain as he tried to remember where he was. The last thing he remembered was a dream of his parents yelling and the GIW knocking down their door. He slowly sat up, looking around the room, every wall was covered in pictures. Danny slowly stood and made his way over to the pictures. They all took place over varied times, ranging from, at the earliest, the 1920s all the way to the 2000s. All of the featured the same woman, she remained unchanged even as those around her grew old.
He listen to the voices, one familiar, one not, as he made his way towards the source of the noise. When he opened the door he was greeted by the familiar face of Clockwork. Next to him was the woman from the photos just as unchanged.
“Good afternoon Danny, did you rest well?” Danny did his best to disguise his flinch at the sound, grinning at the old ghost.
“Just fine thanks, what….what exactly happened? Where are we?” Confusion dripping from his voice.
Clockwork looked Danny in the eye, what he said next nearly broke him.
“I’m so sorry, Danny.”
Danny’s legs almost gave out under him. “It happened didn’t it? They tried to turn me in, to the GIW. That wasn’t a dream.” The ancient stayed silent, Danny's eyes went wide. "Is Jazz okay!? She... she was upstairs... if they hurt her!" Clockwork stopped him.
"Your sister is fine, they were only there for you." Danny took a deep breath, trying to process everything.
"So what comes next? Where are we?" Clockwork looked at him with a deep sadness.
"We are in a world separate from your own, connected by the Infinite Realms. I saw the possibility of what was to come and made arrangements. Due to the crimes of your world against you, the Observants and myself decided the best course of action would be to remove you from your world, and cut the living off from the Infinite Realms entirely." Danny looked down, resigned to knowledge of what they planned to do to him. "As you know, as a half-ghost you must tend to both sides of your being." Clockwork turned to the woman, "Danny, this is my granddaughter, Princess Diana of Themascyra. She has agreed to have you stay here, with her." Danny frowned.
"Your granddaughter? But she's...uhh" he paused, not sure how to continue. Diana laughed.
"Alive? Yes, I do believe I am. I'm assuming my grandfather has neglected to explain his past life" Danny nodded "How much do you know of the stories Ancient Greece?"
"More than most I think, there are a lot of constellations named after the myths. That and it's hard to visit Pandora and NOT get an hour lecture on Greece" Diana's eyes went wide.
"You know Lady Pandora? How wonderful, I grew up hearing stories of her bravery!” She smiled “That being said, that will make things a bit easier. My mother is Hippolyta, her desire to have a daughter was so great that she molded me from sand, Zeus, king of the gods, used his power to give me life.” Danny blinked once, then twice.
“So…you’re a Demi-god? I don’t understand how that makes you Clockworks granddaughter.” Diana smiled. “I mean, I know Clockwork probably used to be Chronos, Jazz and I had a whole debate about that, but what does that have to do with Zeus?” Diana smiled patiently.
“Danny, Chronos is the primordial god of time, yes?” Danny nodded “Okay, well he is also the primordial form of Kronos, the father of Zeus, my father.” Danny froze, looking over to Clockwork who merely nodded, as though Danny’s brain was currently trying to shut down. After a moment the dots finally seemed to click.
“YOU ATE YOUR KIDS?!?!”
Clockwork sighed, Diana laughed, Danny had a mental breakdown.
It took close to five minutes for Clockwork to fully explain as Diana grinned in the background drinking her tea. Once he calmed down, Clockwork finished continued expaining.
"As for your ghostly half, I will be providing plenty of ectoplasm for you to eat as well as bringing you to the Infinite realms each week until you learn to create portals of your own." Danny nodded.
"What about school? Or hell, anything really. I don't exist in this world, how exactly do I go about doing anything?" Clockwork smiled.
"I called on the power of the ghost writer for any legal documents and I personally filed them in the proper time period to ensure you have what you need. I have given those to Diana" she nodded "as well as giving her legal custody of you. As far as the law is concerned you are her recently orphaned cousin. Son of her estranged Uncle Haiden and Aunt Penelope, who tragically died a few days ago." Clockwork smiled, rising from his seat.
"I'm afraid I have over stayed my welcome, I think it's best I take my leave and allow the two of you time to acquaint yourselves better." Danny stopped Clockwork, giving him a hug he whispered.
"Thank you." Clockwork gently carded his fingers through his hair before stepping back.
"If either of you need anything, just ask." and he was gone. Suddenly there was an influx of noise coming from outside, just enough to tell them that the world outside was moving once more.
Danny stood awkwardly by the chair their grandfather was occupying.
"You know, I don't bite." Diana said, trying to break the ice.
"I do." Danny replied on reflex, before covering his mouth. He looked at Diana, she looked back before they both burst out in peals of laughter.
"This is so weird, what even is my life?" Diana wiped a tear from her eye.
"Well, considering one of my teammates dresses up as a bat and beats up criminals, while another talks to fish, I think it's safe to say neither of our lives can be considered normal." Danny broke out in another fit of laughter.
"No shit?" he asked. Diana lifted a single brow at the term.
"No shit."
"What kind of team are you on exactly? Extreme cosplaying? Underwater battle royale?" Diana smirked.
"How about we get you some food and I tell you all about it?"
Danny smiled "Sounds like a plan."
@a-salty-sal@impulsiveasshole@meira-3919@alcorbearson@cute6troll@samgirl98@skulld3mort-1fan@addie-lover-of-stories@amercurio@chronicallyonline-fandomwh0r3 @heirxofxtime @gin2212 @thegatorsgoose@wanderer-of-worlds@terzatheunderscorerima@bright-shade@satanicrutialspecialist@mur-ururu@birdie-24-05@ascetic-orange@cyber-geist@thatrandomsarahchick
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daisynik7 · 6 months
Note
“S&M” by Rihanna for Toji Fushiguro - smut
S&M
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I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it. Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it
Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~2.0k
cw: smut - PIV sex (doggy style), cunnilingus, mild S&M practices - whips, blindfold, handcuffs, protected sex (for once lol), use of safe word, rough sex, pet names (cutie, sweetheart)
Summary: You are next-door neighbors with a man named Toji Fushiguro. You don’t know much about him, except for the fact that he’s a divorced father who spends every other weekend with his young son, Megumi. On the weeks he doesn’t have him, you notice the same trio of women visiting his house. One night, his package gets incorrectly delivered to your door. Too curious, you walk over to return it, only to find the front door unlocked and a naughty secret to discover.
Author’s Notes: Thanks for the request anon! I love Rihanna, so it’s no surprise that she’s on the y2k karaoke party playlist! I personally am not well-versed with S&M practices, so this was an experience to write, definitely a little bit out of my comfort zone, but I hope it’s still okay! This is more on the milder side, I'm sure. Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated, thanks for reading! MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
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You’re not usually this nosey when it comes to your neighbors, but something about Toji Fushiguro draws you in. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s a divorced dad who takes good care of his adorable son, Megumi. Or maybe it’s the mysterious trio of women who frequently visits his house on the weeks he doesn’t have his child. Or maybe it’s his obvious good looks and impressive physique that you can’t help but notice every time he steps foot outside. Whatever it is, whether it’s a combination of all of the above, you just can’t get Toji Fushiguro off your mind. 
On this particular Friday night, you’re staying in, binging a TV show with a glass of white wine in your hands and a frozen pizza that you just baked in the oven. There’s a knock on your front door, which surprises you because you aren’t expecting anybody at this hour. You give it a few moments, seeing if there’s another knock. When none comes, you get up to scope it out, finding a large package directly in front of you and a delivery truck driving off in the distance. You check the shipping label, reading Toji’s name on it instead of yours. You glance at his front yard, spotting his car parked in the driveway and no one else’s. His girlfriends must have already left; you noticed their vehicle earlier beside his. 
Not bothering to change into anything presentable, currently wearing your sweats and fuzzy slippers, you carry the wrongly delivered package to its rightful owner, hoping if you can find some truth behind your neighbor’s unique bi-weekly ritual. You’ve thought about it before, the most likely answer being a polyamorous relationship or group sex. Still, it’ll put your mind to rest to know exactly what he does in there when little Megumi is away and Toji is free to play. So, you carefully lift the box, which isn’t heavy, over to his front door, setting it down to ring the bell. You push the button, then notice that the door is already open, slightly ajar. Another ring, and no one comes, though you’re certain you hear movement inside. 
You should turn around. Go back home, sink into your couch, continue the night as normal. Yet, your feet guide you in, closing the door shut behind you, tip-toeing farther into the house, waiting to catch Toji in the act, whatever that could be. Eventually, you make it to the living room, where you stand in the doorframe, searching for your neighbor, who you find sitting on the couch with his shirt off, scrolling through his phone. 
You knock on the wall, announcing your presence. He looks up, confused, inspecting you carefully before saying your name. “What are you doing in here?” He’s way more cavalier than you imagined he’d be, which you’re thankful for. 
You present the box to him, a nervous grin on your face as you explain, “This just got delivered to my house on accident. I rang the bell, but no one answered. And your front door was open, so I figured I’d just come inside to give it to you.” It’s a poor excuse; you really shouldn’t have barged in without permission. 
He seems to buy it though, rolling his eyes, muttering, “Damn Kimi. She’s always doing that.” He approaches you, grabbing the box from your hands. “Thank you for getting this to me. Been waiting for it all night, so I was bummed it didn’t come in on time.” He sets it down on the floor, kneeling beside it, ready to unwrap. 
You search the room, trying to find any clues of what they could be doing inside here. It looks normal, nothing nefarious standing out. Slightly disappointed, you take this as your cue to leave, turning on your heel to make your way back home. Before you can, Toji calls out your name and asks, “Don’t you want to see the little present I got? After all, it was almost yours. Would have loved to see your reaction if you opened it by accident.” His tone is playful, yet there’s something wicked behind his words. Something naughty.
You swallow hard, mouth already salivating. This isn’t how you planned your night to go, but you’d be lying if you said you haven’t thought about it before. You face him again, stepping towards the box slowly, sitting on the other side. He uses a pocketknife to slice through the tape, eyes lighting up as he reaches inside, holding up his delivered item like a treasure. It’s a riding whip, soft leather on one end, handle on the other. He smirks at you, slapping it against his palm, making a loud crack sound. You jump up, startled by the noise. He barks a laugh at your reaction, laying the whip down on the coffee table next to him. He reaches in again, pulling out three sets of fuzzy handcuffs, twirling one around his fingers. “Damn, would have been fun to use these tonight.” Glancing over at you, legs squeezed tightly together, arousal seeping through your panties, he scans you up and down, giving you a wicked smile. “You want to try these out, neighbor? I promise, I’ll go easy on you.”
It's ridiculous, right? Completely silly and irresponsible for you to agree to this, right? You blurt out your answer before you can even contemplate those questions logically. “Yes.”
He chuckles, biting him lip, eyes focused on your loins currently throbbing against the fabric of your sweats. You really wish you dressed up now, but it doesn’t matter, as he commands you to, “Strip.”
Almost too eagerly, you obey, kicking your slippers off and undressing, starting with your shirt, which you toss behind your shoulder. He studies you carefully, eyes following your every move as you slip out of your pants, down to only your underwear and bra now. He licks his lips, stepping closer to you. “Yeah,” he purrs, breath hot on your skin. “This will definitely work.”
~~~
Within minutes, you find yourself naked in his bedroom, blindfolded, wrists handcuffed behind you, face buried into the pillow, and ass up, perfectly vulnerable for him to do as he pleases. The two of you establish a safe word: mignon, because he thinks you’re cute, and the filet mignon is his favorite cut of meat. He suggests several acts he wants to perform on you and lets you decide which ones you want to go through with. You make your choice, asking to be spanked with the new whip he received. Something about breaking in one of his new accessories turns you on. 
Not being able to see anything, you listen carefully to what he’s doing behind you. You hear him unwrap the condom wrapper, sliding the latex over his cock. Then, there’s a squelch, most likely the lube he’s pouring into his hand, coating his shaft with it. “Are you ready, cutie? I’m going to start with the whip first, okay?” You nod, heart pounding in your chest, nervous and thrilled all at once.
“Words, sweetheart. Use your words. I have to hear you say it.”
You swallow your spit, trying to speak coherently. “Yes. I’m ready.”
“Good. That’s a good girl.” You feel the cool leather against your skin, anticipating it as he counts down. “Three, two, one.” Then, smack. It’s quick, painful for only a few seconds. You can tell he’s holding back, cautious of you. “Did you like that?” he asks. 
“Yes,” you say, wiggling your ass to him. “Give it to me harder.”
He chuckles, swearing under his breath. “Fuck, okay. I’ll go harder then.” He counts down once more, the slap definitely more intense this time. Your skin stings from the contact and it feels like you’re already gushing from your cunt, core tight with pleasure. 
He continues this until he’s delivered ten smacks to each of your ass cheeks. Your body is sweltering now, the skin on your ass surely hotter than the rest of you. Your pussy flutters, aching to be filled, clit throbbing, desperate to be licked. “Toji,” you whimper, drooling from the sides of your mouth. “Fuck me.”
There’s that laugh again, low, taunting, so fucking sexy. “Not yet. Want to make you come before I fuck this pretty cunt.” He positions himself beneath you, between your legs. “Fuck my face. You can be rough with me. I can take it.”
His grip is firm on your hips, guiding you as you ride him, spreading yourself over his wide tongue and gaping mouth. He’s eats you better than any guy you’ve ever fucked before, sloppy and wet, as if he thoroughly enjoys slurping at your juices. He slides his hands over your ass, massaging the skin made raw from his spanking. And before you get a chance to warn him, you come all over his face, gushing into his mouth. 
“Fuck yeah,” he muffles, lapping up your slick. “So fucking good for me.”
Desperate now to be filled, you beg, “Please, Toji. Fuck me. Need you inside me.”
He slides out from beneath you, positioning himself behind you with his cock pressed between your ass cheeks. “I need it too, cutie. Need to pump my fat cock inside this perfect pussy.” He moans loudly as he slides himself inside you, stretching you out, inch by inch, until you swallow him whole. He thrusts into you, slowly at first while you adjust to his length. Gradually, he picks up the pace, pounding you hard and fast, his grip on your wrists, still bound by the handcuffs. The stretch in your shoulders is starting to burn now, arms pinned way back as he uses it for leverage. It’s not enough to coax the safe word out of you, yet. You need more of him to satiate this overwhelming desire.
“You’re taking it like such a good girl,” he moans, pumping himself into you. “Did you ever think about this before? Think about me?”
“Fuck yes. All the time,” you admit, drooling onto the pillowcase. 
“Shit, I knew it. I knew I should have slutted you out sooner,” he growls, bullying his way deeper. It’s almost too much. Almost. A couple more strokes and it actually is, your shoulders sore, nervous they’ll pop out of its sockets. You’ve had your fill of him, your guts feeling like they’ve been rearranged by his massive cock. You’re tempted to stay quiet, not wanting this to end just yet. But your body is begging you for a break. 
“Mignon,” you croak out, throat dry from the incessant moaning.
“Fuck,” he mutters, pulling out, immediately unlocking the handcuffs on your wrists and untying the blindfold. “You were taking that so good.” He flips you over on your back, inspecting you. For the first time since you started, you make eye contact with him, your heart swelling from the genuine smile on his face, gazing at you fondly. “Are you okay, cutie?” He brushes the tears from your eyes, cupping your cheek in his calloused palm.
You nod, mumbling an exhausted, “Yes,” closing your eyes to lean into his touch. 
He cuddles you, kissing your neck as he continues to stroke himself off. He trails down your chest, latching his lips around your nipple, sucking until he comes inside the condom. When he’s done, he removes it, tying the open end closed and tossing it into the waste basket next to him bed. 
It’s silent for a few moments as the two of you relax in each other’s arms. Eventually, he clears his throat to say, “This was fun. I usually don’t do this outside of the group.”
You understand that he’s referring to the trio of women who you saw earlier, and finally, the mystery is solved. Slightly disappointed, you respond, “I’m sorry if I messed anything up.”
He smiles at you. “You didn’t.”
You snuggle closer, kissing him softly. His lips melt into yours, tongue slipping inside your mouth. When you break apart, you ask, “Then, should I only show up when they show up?”
He shakes his head, smirking. “No. I think I want you as my own special plaything from now on.”
411 notes · View notes
mintsvnoo · 4 months
Text
ENHA REACTION TO A FANBOY !
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PAIRING maknae line! enha x mr
( hyung line ver, maknae line ver )
GENRE idol x fan, fluff
WARNING|S none
A. NOTE all writings and reactions from these idols are from MY imagination, it does not reflect their actions and reactions irl!
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more under the cut !
⋆。 ˚ sunoo
okay u cannot guarantee me that when u finally sat down at the chair in front of him, he'll not be acting n treating u like ur his gossip buddy. i mean who could blame him?? after rows n rows n ROWS of lovesick fangirls, there's finally a male that is in his presence! will spend like half of ur time getting to know you both, n quarter of the time signing ur albums n rare photocards n the remaining time gossiping about the other members to u. well not like the usual gossip that would reveal there actual hobbies n stuff, just on camera n the episodes stuff.
when it comes to the signing parts, he'll be so careful and neither do you n him know why!?!? (probably wouldn't want to cover his gorgeous face on that rare photocard of urs!!) also itll be so unique n neat omgg, hes not rushing like before when u noticed his hands where moving so fast during signing the girls albums n when u looked at it, it was literally like a child's hand writing ...
now when the staff told both of u its been already 2 mins past time, and that u needed to go cause there's other people (well now all girls) waiting in queue, he'll be all pouty and would probably reach out at ur hands to hold it as a goodbye, he'll be kinda sad??? but not that much, since he knows that you'll be there on his next fan sign, i mean youve always been there! on every concert, on every fancall. don't think he'll notice you hm? especially with some boy he considers a cutie.
⋆。 ˚ wang jungwon
he'll smile at you, no not the usual smile he gives to everyone but that big n cute smile of his that's showing his smile dimple ahh!!! he'd think that ur so adorable!! especially with you clutching your album like ur life depended on it while smiling brightly while introducing urself to him.
would ask tons of questions to you like whos ur bias n why, will be so happy and flustered that you can't even see his eyes because hes smiling so much, when you tell him that hes ur bias then going on to explain why. now when signing ur album he'll leave little messages and stuff like 'from your bias jungwon' will write it in korean if you tell you know korean.
hes so touched by your enthusiasm by talking to him and showing him ur drawings of him and the other members, literally showing ur efforts just to give him something! and when ur talking hed be listening so intently, nodding along and sharing stories about behind-the-scenes moments from the episodes youd watch.
after you got up to leave since the staff said so, he couldn't shake off your guys encounter!! he was so touched from your compliments and support to him that it was too much to just forget off. oh, how he was looking forward to seeing you again...
⋆。 ˚ ni-ki
hes smirking when he saw you, dont know, dont care if that makes a scandal, but hes smirking! the flirtatious way, probably be thinking, 'looks like i can attract more than just the opposite gender'. hes not the one to be first to give out compliments, but with you? he cant help it! his tongue is just slipping out truths coming straight from the heart.
hes going to question u like jungwon, 'who is ur bias?' but if it's not him he'll be so pouty, for example when you answered heeseung, he'll be like why? and when u say hes handsome he'll be pointing to himself and say what about me? am i more handsome then him? like boy, know ur limits, jk jk.
he'll be so impressed by ur pencil drawing of him, and seeing the effort on your handmade gifts makes his heart flutter, and his cheek a hue pink! maybe you'll be the one that inspires him to draw!!!
but boy hes a BIG tease when you're talking to him and suddenly stutter because ur flustered on the way hes looking at you with such interest!! like i said he can help it!! and when its time for you to leave, he'll give you a flying kiss BUT like when he touch his lips with his hand he'll quickly get the flying kiss to ur lips!!! while saying that he'll be looking forward on seeing u again enjoying the way your covering ur lips with your hands with a shock face not believing that his hand just touched your lips!!
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milla984 · 11 months
Text
It's the Great Pumpkin, Spencer Reid
Summary: Spencer and Reader get to spend some quality time together on Halloween
Pairing: virgin!Spencer Reid x fem!reader, virgin!Spencer Reid x plus size Reader
Category: smut (NSFW, 18+, MDNI)
TW/CW: heavy kissing, handjob, fingering, brief mention of an anxiety attack, body image insecurities (both parts)
Word Count: 5.4k
This work is part of the series Spencer Reid, my beloved
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“I am officially traumatized,” Penelope blurted out when the end credits rolled on the screen, “remind me to never watch another Halloween movie with you, guys!!”
You could almost hear Spencer squeak in disbelief. “What?! This is a classic!”
She stood up to adjust her skirt, the one with jack-o’-lanterns and spiderwebs arranged in a casual pattern all over the dark fabric, and the bats standing on top of her fuzzy headband wiggled in different directions. 
“Uh–uh, La Dolce Vita is a classic. This is what goes on in the twisted mind of someone who desperately needed a hug and a large cup of hot cocoa with a ton of whipped cream and sprinkles as a child.”
You smiled as you finished loading the dishwasher, amused by the discussion unfolding in your living room; in your heart you were the greatest admirer of Spencer’s ability to conjure up any kind of random information on the spot but the exact moment you saw him open his mouth you knew he was about to make the situation worse.
“In fact, Barker’s grandmother had a fascination with the macabre. She would often tell gruesome stories which she presented as true tales so he grew up with the fear of being murdered in his own house.” 
Garcia gawked and raised a hand in his direction, simultaneously turning your way. “See?! Forgive me if I don’t think that having my entire body ripped apart by giant hooks is the ultimate frontier of pleasure!”
“And I’ll never look at a puzzle box the same way! What if it’s a brain teaser from Hell and there’s one of those chattering monsters inside?” she added and you had to hold back your laughter because Spencer’s perplexed frown was probably one of the cutest and funniest things in the whole world.
The mustache glued to his upper lip and the cravat he wore over a white shirt and black vest were only adding to it so you forced yourself to remain serious. “I’m sorry… pizza and a movie from my dvd collection were all I had to offer on such short notice,” you said, to which she replied by shaking her long, wavy hair.
“Oh no, sweet pea! You did great, I’m just too attached to the illusion that life is a rainbow to be into the traditional Halloween gore,” she sighed and wrapped herself in a colorful poncho. “Hey, Raven Man! Ready to leave?”
Spencer squirmed: an IQ of 187 and still he was unable to come up with a semi-plausible lie when it came to hiding the truth from his friends. Feeling the weight of her curious stare he swallowed nervously.
“I was kind of considering the possibility of going to the midnight screening of Nosferatu, at the Silver Theatre. It’s the 100th anniversary so the Silent Orchestra will play the entire score live, have you ever heard of them? They use contemporary musical idioms to convey the art of pre-talkies films to modern audiences, they’ve been widely acclaimed for their work.”
Penelope raised an eyebrow. “Midnight screening, huh?! Which means you don’t need a ride home… what a coincidence,” she teased, leaning forward to squeeze you in a passionate hug. “I knew it! I saw it the minute I walked in!”
This time was your turn to shrug with a puzzled expression: Reid and Garcia should have been on the opposite side of D.C. for a relaxed dinner at the Morgans’ after a thorough raid of all the neighborhood porches. However, Derek had called just as they were getting in the car to inform them that Hank got unexpectedly sick and forty-five minutes later All Hallows’ Eve enthusiast Reid (dressed up as Edgar Allan Poe) plus a very concerned Penelope had showed up at your apartment, making you wonder why on earth wasn’t she already busy baking since she kept repeating chickenpox called for the best pumpkin pie ever.
“Well, there goes our plan to keep a low profile,” you groaned as you closed the door behind her, and Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. 
“How…?! Is this what they call ‘female intuition’?”
“Call it whatever you want but I’m glad she’s not mad we didn’t tell her right away,” you replied, proceeding to wrap your arms around his shoulders, “and I can think of another person who’s probably very happy for you, now.”
Spencer got rid of the fake mustache with a pensive stare. When it finally dawned on him that Garcia’s phone buzzing during your impromptu horror-themed movie night had in fact started out as live updates on their godson’s health and most likely turned into a gossip session about you two as a couple he squinted.
“I almost bailed on going trick-or-treating with them. I didn’t because I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but I also wanted to see you. It’s our first Halloween.”
You nodded. “Maybe we can still get tickets for Nosferatu. You’re a terrible liar, so I’m sure there really is a midnight screening at the Silver Theatre.”
Spencer stared at you, entranced, then pulled you closer and in a heartbeat your lips met his - a sweet caress, tender and soft, your breaths entwined and your noses rubbing against each other in delicate strokes. You gave him a gentle push and he plopped down on the couch as you placed one knee on either side of his legs to straddle him; one of his hands sneaked behind you, exploring you as if he was trying to blindly map your whole back. 
You felt his other hand on your waist, hesitant. 
Three months had passed since the day you both came to the conclusion you were not “just friends” - three months made of late night phone calls from six different States, of handwritten silly notes you hid in his leather bag each time you drove him to the airport to catch a flight for Houston, three months of you hoping things would eventually move past the PG rated phase.
Three months of your self-consciousness sowing the seed of doubt in your heart, encouraged by the notion of whom he got to share his workspace with: you were no Emily or JJ and even if Spencer wasn’t the type to pay attention to details he frequently referred to as ‘trivial’ you were growing less and less confident.
“It’s fine, you can touch me,” you whispered, guiding his palm to cup your breast. They were pretty difficult to ignore, nevertheless he always seemed to steer away from them as much as he could.
You ran your fingers through his hair until you grabbed a small chunk of his curls; Spencer gasped for air and you brushed your tongue over his lower lip, letting out a muffled moan when the heat between your legs became almost unbearable. You started grinding on his lap to adjust tightly against his body.
“Wait…” he whined, squirming under you.
A second moan escaped from your throat while the pressure of his stiff cock hit your thigh but he shoved you away to free himself and spring to his feet, shaking heavily as if he was experiencing a full blown anxiety attack. 
His cheeks were flustered and his hair stuck to his dampened forehead so that he couldn’t even look at you straight - which gave him the perfect excuse to avoid doing it altogether. “I– I’m sorry…”
“No, no, I am…” you muttered, because the guilt building up in your chest felt so heavy you find it difficult to breathe.
Spencer was standing there, fumbling nervously with the cravat around his neck; his body language was screaming discomfort and he was clearly thinking of an excuse to remove himself from the situation. It was then that the hidden and irrational side of you, the one that desperately feared he would have disappeared forever if you’d let him go, kicked in and a rush of adrenaline came running down your spine.
“Please…” you continued, placing a hand over his, “it’s okay, really… there’s no way to control it, you should know better than anyone—”
“Why? Because I’m a man and men are supposed to have zero impulse regulation?!”
The embarrassment and shame in his voice broke you: you had sworn a thousand times in your mind to do your best to be his solace, yet now it seemed you were hurting him like no-one had ever done before.
“No,” you replied, “because you’re the genius, here, and you should know it’s a perfectly healthy and natural reaction.”
He huffed, visibly irritated at what he must have perceived as a patronizing tone. A different sort of emotion crawled under your skin, sparked by the amount of tension stagnating in the air.
You offered him a cushion and glanced at him with your usual no-nonsense attitude. “Sit down, so we can have a proper conversation? You know, like… functioning adults.”
Spencer pouted for a second, evaluating numbers and statistics about two years and a half’s worth of interactions. The truth was, intellectual affinity was such a familiar concept for the two of you that talking your way through an issue was indeed a synonym for a positive outcome. 
He grabbed the cushion and held it onto his stomach to shield himself from your gaze, though it was purposely focused on his face; you thought it was best to put some distance between your bodies when he sat on the couch again so you folded your legs underneath you, shivering like a cold draft had found its way inside the room.
“Listen, we can both agree this is not your regular, everyday casual topic of conversation… which is why we’ve never discussed premarital sex—”
“I’m not against it,” Spencer rushed to declare, “I’ve assumed it was the same for—”
“Sure, no! Ditto,” you confirmed.
His furrowed brows relaxed while his mouth curved in a timid smile. “Did you know that every person’s intimate relationships follow a script that has been written according to their own individual attitude towards all –uhm, sexual experiences?”
“I did not,” you admitted, and Spencer’s hands started dancing to the sound of his own words. 
“There are sets of guidelines for appropriate behavior, each partner in consensual encounters acts as if they are an actor following a script rather than acting on impulse alone. Researches indicate that women are more likely to initiate contact in well established relationships, negotiating sexual activity in developing relationships can be difficult 'cause both parts have multiple goals to deal with, such as providing relational definitions or following specific standards or morals.”
“Yeah, speaking about relationships… I think we’ve been in one since Christmas, we were just too dumb to say it out loud. And to each other,” you explained. “Sounds like a well-established to me but what’s your take on us?”
He curled into himself. “Every time we’re together I know there’s no other place I’d rather be. I’ve never even imagined it could be possible, I want to feel you even closer… and I’m so afraid I’m forcing this on you—”
“You’re not, I want it too,” you reassured him, “but to be honest I was starting to worry you were not into… me.”
Spencer’s beautiful eyes roamed over you and what you could see was all but repulsion. “Actually it’s the complete opposite.”
“So, what if my script says I’m ready to take things further?” you inquired, inching towards him to tug at the cravat of his costume. 
Spencer cupped your face and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Mine is on the same page,” he whispered.
Your fingers immediately went to the vest he was wearing and trailed the line of buttons in a slow movement; you undid them one by one, the hems eventually coming apart to reveal the white shirt underneath.
“Tell me if anything doesn’t feel good,” you purred while you loosened the cravat to uncover his Adam’s apple. The way his muscles tensed as it bobbed up and down drove you crazy, so you teased him with the tip of your tongue - your lips grazing over the short stubble. 
Damn him and his impeccable bone structure: the scruffy look suited him so well it always sparked in you the urge to pin him to a wall and sink your teeth into his tender flesh. You loved how he could sport a smooth, professional style when the situation required it still wasn’t concerned with shaving each morning, almost as if it was an impractical activity which took energy away from whatever he considered to be a priority at that moment. 
You heard something flop on the floor and stopped your ministrations: the cushion he’d been holding over his stomach wasn’t there anymore, meaning you got to notice his trousers were becoming increasingly tight.
You squeezed his knee to make sure he was prepared for a more intimate contact then you slid it even further on his leg, giving him a couple of minutes to adjust to your gentle strokes before you felt confident enough to move the action to his inner thigh.
Spencer gasped, surprised rather than shocked or disturbed by how close you were now to where he was aching, and he leaned back to ease the pressure of the fabric but kept his eyes on you. 
He gave a silent nod in response to your interrogative stare, so you finally traced the outline of his hard cock between your thumb and index.
He jolted this time and muttered under his breath, a deep rasp in his voice you didn’t expect: you were unprepared to hear your name spoken as it was the quintessence of pure desire and you quivered, the throbbing in your ears rolling to your core.
You kissed his temple as you pointed at the waistband of his trousers. “Can I…?”
“Y– yes…” he muttered.
His clothes didn’t have any space left to accommodate his bulge. You palmed over it and felt an impatient twitch, which nearly had Spencer cursing; it was becoming torture for him so you reached for the zipper. 
For a split second the historical inaccuracy of a Victorian era costume featuring a device first introduced years after Edgar Allan Poe’s death hit you - a remark Reid himself would have been very appreciative of, which showed how much you could relate to the way his brain worked. Then you shook out of it and peeled his slacks open.
You crumpled the shirt over his stomach and marveled at the sight of his soft belly, the flawless navel, the dark fuzz pointing directly to his raging erection. With a cautious approach you freed it from any restraint, chewing on your lower lip as you often did when you were entirely focused on a challenging task. 
You couldn’t exactly say you had many options in your mind to compare him to but you had done a lot of fantasizing: now that he was in front of you, undressed and defenseless, you were downright mesmerized by—
“What’s wrong?!” Spencer screeched, interrupting your train of thought. “Is it odd? Does it look odd?!”
You shook your head, taken aback. “... odd?! No, why?!” you asked. “It’s just…” you petted the roundness to demonstrate, “I like your tummy so much.”
The way it pressed against his belt whenever he sat next to you on your couch or his was overly inviting and in the past weeks you had to fight the temptation to sneak a hand inside his shirt to squish it, because you didn’t know how he would’ve reacted. 
“Really?!” he marveled, confirming he wasn’t even aware you had a thing for soft tummies. His soft tummy, to be specific.
You smiled and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his. “Are you okay with me doing this?”
Spencer nodded, his eyelids half-closed, so you let your fingertips follow the trail of hair below his belly button; his hardness twitched again when you got near, then you wrapped your hand around it. 
You both moaned in unison, a harmony of pleasure that filled the silence of your living room. You moved along his entire length, feeling the satiny skin sliding over the shaft, and he threw his hair back in a movement that left his jugular exposed: his neck was too inviting and you sucked on it, the groans vibrating in his throat reverberating on your lips.
You gripped tighter when he got used to your caresses. As soon as his muffled whimpers seemed to increase in frequency you circled your thumb over the tip, spreading his leaking precum over the sensitive head. Spencer was at loss for words, a good indication that he was definitely enjoying the moment.
You were enjoying it too; you started to rub your legs together, your imagination running wild and picturing all sorts of scenarios. The mere thought of having him inside of you made you want to touch yourself but you resisted: Spencer was undoubtedly new to this and deserved someone in his life to love him and shower him with attention, so you decided to put his release before your own.
When you twisted your hand at the base of his cock he jumped, missing the bridge of your nose by a few inches.
“Too much?!” you cooed, and he seemed to come out of a sort of drunken stupor.
“No, no… it’s good, I like it…”
You sighed. “Spence, you have to tell me if—”
“It’s really good,” he replied, the urgency sensible in his tone. “Don’t stop,” he pleaded, low-key ashamed of how needy he’d sounded.
You pecked him on the nose as a reassurance you accepted and cherished this version of him: he wasn’t the kind of man to be interested in the crude physical aspect of sex, he’d made it clear. He wasn’t desperate for just anyone to satisfy him - he trusted you to do it, because he knew you were safe in each other’s arms.
You shifted to adjust at his side and returned to your previous occupation; you let your other hand wander over his thigh as a forewarning, then you sheepishly cupped his balls so you could provide additional stimulation and send him over the edge.
He bucked his hips, a loud “Oh, God!!!” escaping from his mouth before he grasped a fistful of your hair. He was hungry for you, his tongue sliding lustfully against yours and his breathing so ragged you were sure he was getting close. 
Kissing him was your drug of choice but you also wanted to watch him come undone, thanks to you, so you turned your head while he tensed: he arched his back and bucked his hips once more, nipping at your earlobe. He became harder as he spilled himself over your fingers, wrist and his own stomach with a feral growl.
You didn’t let go of him, not even when his whole body finally slumped down.
The well-defined jaw and unruly curls falling on his face, now so serene, made him appear like a Botticellian masterpiece. Botticelli would have never painted one of his subjects in such a disheveled state, for sure, but the contrast between his angelic aura and the fact he was sprawled on the couch with his trousers unzipped and his softening cock still in your hand was a vision to behold.
“Hey,” you hummed as he re-opened his eyes and found you looking at him, “you’re too cute to be real, you know that?!”
Embarrassed - yet adorably proud - Spencer lowered his gaze, only to grimace at the stickiness on his belly. And on you. “I made a mess, I’m s—”
“We made a mess. Besides, it’s nothing a towel can’t fix, don’t be sorry,” you said, patting his tummy.
You were almost tempted to ask him how long he’d been saving it for, in a clumsy attempt to remind him you’d fallen so head over heels for him you were not at all grossed out; at the last moment you ruled the joke out, though, stretching your legs to get up instead. “Give me a couple of minutes.”
He flashed you the most awkward smile and you forced your feet to move towards the bathroom. 
You washed your hands under the hot running water and silently watched a part of Spencer swirling down the drain; the floral scent of the soap was now in the air but you could still feel his - coffee and cologne, accentuated by the faint traces of sweat on his skin. 
You had just discovered something new: Spencer was often oblivious of how good he looked (despite the dark circles under his eyes) and that was no mystery, but the idea he might have been insecure about different parts of his body was something you’d never taken into account. If being a couple was the natural consequence of the emotional bond between you - rather than a result of some physical infatuation alone - why was he so preoccupied with your reaction to his half-naked self?
Your brain was going in severe overdrive. 
You inhaled and exhaled a couple of times, your fingers gripping on the honed marble of the countertop, then you dried your hands with a towel, grabbed a fresh one and returned to the living room; the instant you approached your couch you realized Spencer had been doing a lot of thinking of his own, and your heart sank into your stomach.
“Wunderkind, are you alright?” you questioned as you offered him the towel so that he could clean himself up. “What’s going on in here?” you added, tapping lightly on his temple.
He shrugged and proceeded to meticulously remove any trace of his seed from his belly and clothes before tucking the shirt into the waistband of his trousers. “Nothing special.”
His left eyebrow raised, due to an involuntary movement of his facial muscles: it was a flash, a glimpse, the undeniable proof he was hiding something. The sound of your intrusive thoughts and fears got so loud you wanted to scream to cover their noise.
“Your microexpressions say otherwise,” you retorted.
Spencer lifted his head to meet your eyes, mouth agape, and you couldn’t decipher the meaning of such a bewildered reaction. You had always been able to recognize his lying frown, his anxious smile, the suspicious squint and a hundred more variations: you were not a member of the BAU but you were an expert on detecting and classifying his emotions, yet you’d never seen that one before. 
“It’s… uhm, I’m wondering if it was good for you.”
Your heart leaped and bounced back where it belonged. His job required him to be the one calling people out on their behavior, not the other way round; your presence in his life forced him to face a situation in which his skills as a profiler couldn’t shield him from his own vulnerability, so he was in serious need of some consolation.
You bent over to whisper in his ear. “It was.”
“But you didn’t...” he nervously licked his lips, “and I want you to. Just tell me how.”
In the back of your mind you were 100% sure it would have been the right moment to confess you’d been harboring a few insecurities of your own but your fight-flight-freeze response was already answering on your behalf, making you freeze on the spot.
“Spencer…”
“You don’t think I can?!” he inquired, still convinced his lack of experience was the motivation behind any episode of miscommunication. 
“NO! It’s not about you,” you responded in a hurry, hugging him as he was still seated on the couch. “Or maybe it is… ” you gestured to your whole figure, “I guess I’m a bit worried this isn’t what—”
Spencer wrapped you in an equally sweet hug, his chin dimple pressed on your abdomen. “This is soft,” his hands ran to the back of your knees, trailing up, “it’s so soft I’ve got only one thing in mind every time you hug me and I have to stop myself…”
He stopped talking mid-sentence when you guided his palms over your chest and he finally laughed, fascinated by the feeling of your breasts through the shirt.
If he was so happy at the idea you were starving for his touch and was clearly eager to reciprocate it was time to consider the strong possibility he wasn’t just settling for less. “Do you really—”
“Yes!” he replied, enthusiastically. “But I could use a few hints, you know.”
You knew. “May I sit on your lap, kind sir?”
The ‘are you even serious?’ pout on his face deserved an award; now you were both allowed to act silly without the slightest concern one of you was making fun of the other, high on the intoxicating concept of true intimacy.
You positioned yourself so that you were seated on his groin, your back flat on his chest and your head nestled in the crook of his neck, thanking Mother Nature for the existence of refractory periods. Not that it was necessary, but Spencer hooked his left forearm around your waist to secure you as his tongue glided over the soft skin behind your ear. “How do I start?”
“Step one: make some space,” you tipped him.
He gulped loudly and began to caress your knee, ghosting his fingers along the thigh-bone. You shivered in anticipation and when he tried to reach for your inner thigh you spread your legs apart; he flattened his palm, gripping on your muscles and rubbing back and forth - still keeping some distance from your most delicate spots. 
You turned to offer him your lips. “Tease me… up and down, light touches.”
He did as he was told. When he ran the back of his hand over your mound you whimpered, the oversensitivity being too much to bear combined with the mind-blowing taste of his mouth over yours.
“Isn’t it frustrating for you?” he managed to articulate in between kisses and you rocked your hips against him.
You could already feel the familiar and insistent throbbing, accentuated by the fact that delayed gratification was a real pain; you were dying for him to placate the fire his hard cock had sparked in you, so you grabbed his wrist and guided it over your stomach, down the front of your panties.
He gasped at the feeling of your tender flesh, the curly hair, the dampness - too many sensory inputs to process all at once. “You’re so… warm?”
“Core body temperature is higher than the temperature of the skin,” you reminded him. 
“So warm,” he kept repeating, basic biology facts lost on him because his brain seemed to have switched off. 
His palm grazed over your folds and your legs fell further open to give him better access; you stroked his left forearm and tilted your head back. “Only two fingers now, Spence… up and down. But don’t go straight for—”
You tensed when his fingertips danced on your clit and he gripped you even tighter. “Sorry,” he mumbled, but the sensation was so good you could only smile.
“If you plan to go there it’s left and right. And draw a few circles around, big and small...” you explained before words turned into muffled moans as he put your suggestions into actions.
You were still grinding on his lap, your back glued to his chest, and he took advantage of the proximity to trap your earlobe between his teeth, sucking lightly at each change of the pattern he was tracing.
You squeezed his wrist when the flame inside of you grew fiercer. “You can slip your finger in if you want.”
Spencer let go of your earlobe and paused. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for weeks,” you admitted, the weight of your secret vanishing in the air like a puff of smoke.
He sighed and shifted underneath you; just as you were ready to tell him he didn’t have to if he wasn’t comfortable with the idea he slid his middle finger past your entrance and you shuddered in his embrace. His hands were elegant, veiny, and his slender digits made for playing piano or reaching your hidden crevices - you had no doubts about it, but judging by how he was sitting still he had more than one question regarding what to do with them.
“How do I feel? Spence...?”
Even if you couldn’t really see his face, you knew he had a confused-slash-excited look on. “Hot… and wet, I never thought—”  
“You like it?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?!” he asked in the cutest high-pitched tone and you laughed, making you both wince at the sudden movement. 
All the words in any existent language put together couldn’t describe the amount of affection you had for him. “I like it, Spence,” you hummed, “and it would be even better if you tried curling your fin— FUCK!” 
Spencer wasn’t one to waste time once he was given a specific instruction.
He pushed his finger forward and curled it as you said, gliding in and out to slowly familiarize himself with the different textures of your inner walls. He adopted a very empirical approach, experimenting several techniques based on what he’d learned not so long before, while you whimpered and moaned his name; he was moaning, too, and so prettily you couldn’t control yourself.
“Spence, I need more…” 
He nipped at your jaw, his long hair tickling your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t, I promise”, you panted, almost out of breath.
When he slipped a second finger in you realized that his arm wrapped around your waist was the only thing still keeping you in place: your legs were giving up on you, your hips swayed to let Spencer’s fingers plunge deeper as your back arched and your fists closed around his clothes. He was pumping relentlessly, overwhelmed by your wetness and the way you were taking him inside like he was a missing part of your own body; he tried to reach for your mouth and you turned to grasp the nape of his neck.
“Your hands are perfect,” you whined, “you are perfect…”
He huffed, his heart pounding fast. “Are you…?”
“Please... make me come, Spence,” you begged him in a whisper.
He pressed his thumb on your clit and started alternating between rough circling motions and the upward movement of his fingers, as you bucked your hips at a frantic pace; your thighs muscles contracted, you clenched around him and you ears plugged as you climaxed - something that had never happened to you before.
You tugged at his hair and screamed his name, before settling against his body once the tension faded. 
He kept his fingers inside and he cuddled you throughout the aftermath of your orgasm, planting butterfly kisses wherever his mouth could reach and cradling you like his only mission in life was making you feel safe and protected. 
Your self-consciousness awoke first, despite the rush of feel-good hormones flowing in your bloodstream.
“Am I crushing you…?” you mumbled, and he grunted as you wriggled free to lean forward and pick up the towel from the floor. 
He stared at his wet fingers with a pensive frown, then he wiped them clean and turned to face you - now seated on the couch with your legs across his and your forearm rested on his shoulder, so that you could play with his curls. 
“Doctor, you deserve a gold star for your performance.”
He smiled and lowered his gaze for a second. “I’m very good at following instructions.”
“You’re not bad at improvising, either,” you pointed out, “the thing you did with your thumb…?”
“I figured it was only a matter of combining the exact pressure and the right angle. Technically speaking—”
“Spencer?!” you cut him off, before he could lose himself in his own rambling. “Thank you,” you added, kissing him lightly on his lips before you stood up to fix your panties and trousers. “You can tell me all about the mechanics behind one of the best orgasms of my life on our way.”
“Nosferatu. First Halloween together…?” you elaborated when he looked at you in total confusion. “You’ve changed your mind.”
He shifted on the couch, his hazel eyes fixed on you. “Is that okay?”
This time you looked at him with your best ‘is ice cream cold?’ frown: you wanted to spend eternity with him, not just an hour or two more. You climbed into his lap and tangled your fingers in his hair while he cupped your breasts.
“What if I get…? I mean... again?!”
“Well, it’s not going to happen right now, Professor!!" you snorted, and his giggle sounded like celestial music. "But don’t worry, we’ve got the whole night."
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gffa · 1 year
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It’s been over half a year since I did a set of STAR WARS fic recs that weren’t pairing-focused, but I have been reading fic along the way! And sometimes you want fic that’s not about ships, no matter how much you love them, sometimes you just want to read about friendships or you want to read some cool worldbuilding or you only want the plot, and Star Wars fandom has been lovely about that. Hell, sometimes you just want to cry about how much you love the Jedi and you want to share that affection with other people, through the incredible experience of telling stores about them, like they were trying so hard and they were right about so many things and they were dying for years to try to help the galaxy, and teaching about how emotional regulation is good actually, and sometimes you want to show that through the disaster trio and sometimes you want to yell about how good Mace Windu is and sometimes you want to love frog grandpa and sometimes you want to get into a fistfight to defend Luminara’s honor and sometimes you want the whole Order sitting down to a family dinner and sometimes you want fic where Anakin and Mace actually get along and so many other things! So, here’s a collection of some excellent fic that I think most people should be able to find at least something to enjoy, whether you’re looking for fun disaster lineage shenanigans or heartbreaking pain because Star Wars Is Pain or some awesome Jedi Order worldbuilding or some all too rare Mace Windu Appreciation fic, I HOPE YOU ENJOY. WHAT KIND OF FIC YOU’LL FIND HERE: 
FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE
CANON-COMPLIANT (MOSTLY, UP TO A CERTAIN POINT, WHATEVER) DISASTER LINEAGE
JEDI CULTURE AND WORLDBUILDING AND CELEBRATION
I AM A PREQUELS ERA BITCH AND I’M MAKING THAT EVERYONE ELSE’S PROBLEM
FOR THE OBITINE SHIPPERS, OF WHICH I AM ONE
MULTIGENERATIONAL STAR WARS IS THE BEST STAR WARS
NOBODY NEEDS THEIR HEART TODAY ANYWAY
FRIENDSHIP WITH CANON ENDED, THIS COOL AU IS MY NEW BEST FRIEND NOW
FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE: ✦ fill pages with scribbled ink by magneticwave, obi-wan/padme & anakin & cast, 9.8k    A year after the Invasion of Naboo, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi is invited by Queen Amidala to return to Naboo and participate in a rite known as the Night of Fireflies. Things kind of snowball from there. ✦ Stars of Tatooine by Be_Right_Back, ahsoka & kanan & mace & rex & obi-wan & cast, 10.5k    After the end of the world, Ahsoka more or less kidnaps a child, has to air some old grievances, and tries to find whatever peace the universe can still offer. All paths in the Force lead home, eventually. ✦ A Discussion of Choices by Peppermint_Shamrock, mace & luke, 2k    Mace Windu has traveled the galaxy since the fall of the Republic, keeping out of the Empire’s sight and teaching where he can. Upon the request of a ghost of an old friend, Mace finds himself instructing Luke Skywalker, who is still reeling from the truth of Vader’s identity. CANON-COMPLIANT (MOSTLY, UP TO A CERTAIN POINT, WHATEVER) DISASTER LINEAGE: ✦ stars lean in a little closer by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & ahsoka, 3.9k    Ahsoka is struggling with nightmares after returning from Felucia, but her pesky grandmaster won’t leave her to deal with them alone ✦ Four Walls and Two Jedi by hellowkatey, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 10k    Obi-Wan and Anakin get exposed to a deadly virus and must spend two weeks in quarantine battling sickness, ghosts from the past, and worries for the future. ✦ Care, Trust, and the Force (of course) by hellowkatey, obi-wan & anakin, whump, 1.7k    Anakin takes a tumble during a battle that brings about a lot of old fears. ✦ Chains Bound and Broken by PhenomenalWoman, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 6.3k    Where Anakin goes undercover and learns that being a 9 year-old slave is not the same as being a 22 year-old slave. ✦ Anakin’s Birthday by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin, 1.3k    Anakin is about to celebrate his first birthday as a Jedi Padawan and Obi-Wan helps to make it special. Pure fluff. ✦ Not Much Has Changed, Except for Everything by hellowkatey, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon, time travel, 4.4k    Anakin is angry at Obi-Wan, and the Force decides to intervene by throwing him back in time. ✦ cause a commotion (jump in the ocean) by loosingletters, anakin & ahsoka, 1.2k    Ahsoka worries about finding a Master and instead finds a friend haunting the ponds in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. ✦ still much that is fair by RaineyDay, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & qui-gon & bant & tahl & cast, time travel, 21.1k    Anakin Skywalker was used to following the commands of the Force in his daily life. But a lot of the time, that didn’t really mean much. Until the day the Force nudged him to catch a kid falling through the sky- and through time. ✦ unbalanced, triumphant, and trying again by katierosefun, obi-wan & anakin, 2.6k    sometimes you just want to go home, wherever that may be. ✦ Haste Has No Blessing by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin, spanking, 3k    Ten-year-old Anakin Skywalker becomes impatient with the speed of his training and defies his master’s instructions. ✦ to be better by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & anakin, 1.8k    the Council has lost a planet, much to Anakin and Obi-Wan’s dismay. they’ve been tasked with finding it, but after nine hyperspace jumps and a painful discovery, Obi-Wan teaches his former Padawan one more lesson. ✦ And The War Never Sleeps by soft_but_gremlin, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1k    As the war goes on, it gets harder to get any sleep. ✦ Keeper of the Force by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & bant & plo & vokara & cast, read the warnings, 93.9k    Thirty years before the Clone Wars began, the Force selected its Keeper. Now, in the face of the intense turmoil plaguing the galaxy, the Force acts again. Anakin just wants everything to go back to how it was before, Ahsoka doesn’t completely understand what is happening but is willing to do whatever she can to help, and Obi-Wan’s past comes back to haunt him in a way he never expected. ✦ Moving by SingManyFaces, obi-wan & anakin & plo, 3k    Obi-Wan’s new padawan is having difficulty learning to meditate but, together, they find a way to make it work. ✦ unthinkingly by katierosefun, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1.1k    Ahsoka felt her entire body grow cold as she whirled around for them, opened her mouth to shout a warning— She saw Anakin tense first, saw him lift his face to the sky, and then his eyes met Ahsoka’s briefly—and then she saw him race for Obi-Wan, shove him out of the way, and— Ahsoka’s shout joined Obi-Wan’s. ✦ what they grow beyond by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & qui-gon, 2.7k    Obi-Wan learns there is just as much learning in teaching. ✦ Deepest Rivers by TexasDreamer01, obi-wan & anakin, 1.5k    “The deepest rivers flow with the least sound.” - Quintus Curtius Rufus ✦ Inactions Have Consequences by stolen_pen_name23, obi-wan & anakin & mace, 2k    Losing Qui-Gon was the hardest thing Obi-Wan ever endured. He can’t bear to do it to Anakin. OR: Obi-Wan tries to keep Anakin at arm’s length. It doesn’t work. ✦ Aftercare by AdaliaK, obi-wan & anakin & quinlan, spanking, 3k    When Anakin feels resentful of Obi-Wan after a punishment, “Uncle Quin” steps in and smooths things over between master & padawan. JEDI CULTURE AND WORLDBUILDING AND CELEBRATION: ✦ Festival of Light by dendral, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 8.7k    During his first year at the Jedi Temple, Anakin learns that even the Jedi celebrate holidays. ✦ Songs for Little Jedi by soft_but_gremlin, mace & jedi, ~1k    The initiates are having nightmares, so Mace sings a lullaby to comfort them. ✦ Mace Windu Appreciation Week by Redminibike1, mace & obi-wan & anakin & yoda & qui-gon & ponds & cody & cast, 12.5k    Set of unconnected ficlets for Mace Windu Appreciation Week, because he deserves it :) ✦ a thin thread of hope by wrennette, shaak & clones, ~1k    Shaak Ti introduces some cadets to one of her favourite crafts, under the guise of training. ✦ everyone comes home by nightdotlight, anakin & mace, 1.1k    Anakin laughs, drowsy with the painkillers the IV feeds into his veins, and smiles at Mace. “You’re funny,” he says. “Nobody ever says it, but— you’re funny. I like the jokes you make.” ✦ Masters and Apprentices by silveryink, obi-wan & cody & rex & cast, 1.8k    “You’re overthinking this.” Rex stared at his brother. “Okay, but – consider this, what if I’m not?” Cody snorted. “Rex. We’ve had a Padawan Commander before. We’ve also worked with cadets before. We managed with Skywalker, I’m sure that the Jedi shiny will be fine.” ✦ a comedy in four acts by jesuisdeux, obi-wan & yoda & mace & dooku & cast, time travel, 17.2k    This was what time-travel is: staring at the dark sockets of skulls everywhere your gaze lands on. Being haunted by ghosts long gone. The apprehension of the slow yet sure approach of the inevitable which is sending chills down your spine. ✦ when the world is on your side by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & feemor & cast, 1k    Feemor and his Padawan meet Obi-Wan Kenobi and his Padawan. ✦ rah kat by js71, obi-wan & anakin & aayla, 1.6k    “Aay’shee,” Obi-Wan murmurs into her ear, rocking her gently, like when jaieh was off on a mission she couldn’t go on, so her jaieh-raheniel would take turns having her over at their apartments. ✦ Lessons on Attachment by Siri_Kenobi12, obi-wan & anakin/padme & cast, 2.7k    “Anakin once told me that a Jedi is actually encouraged to love.” She said after Obi-Wan had settled. ✦ settle down by loosingletters, yoda & jedi, 1.9k    Five times Yoda cooks for somebody and one time someone cooks for him. ✦ at our gardens (during the eye of the storm) by gingerbeer, rainsoaked_benevolence (oceans_bluem), obi-wan & shaak & mace & yoda & feemor & cast, 7k    Obi-Wan and his (almost full) family gathers to drink tea. ✦ in our kitchen (after the war) by gingerbeer, rainsoaked_benevolence (oceans_bluem), obi-wan & ahsoka & mace & yoda & depa & shaak & cast, 5.4k    Or, (almost) all of the Jedi High Councilors (plus Ahsoka) gather to eat dinner together. ✦ with our family (after the dust has settled) by gingerbeer, rainsoaked_benevolence (oceans_bluem), obi-wan & ahsoka & yoda & mace & depa & kanan & quinlan & aayla & shaak & plo & cast, 6.2k    Or, after the war ends (for real this time!), the (actually full!) Council gathers to eat mooncakes. ✦ Straw Dogs by Cymbidia, obi-wan & jedi & cast, 2.9k    An old Jedi Master imparts some wisdom concerning Mercy, Balance, and the Will of the Force to young Padawan Obi-wan Kenobi and a gaggle of other younglings. It is a lesson that haunts Obi-wan for the rest of his life. I AM A PREQUELS ERA BITCH AND I’M MAKING THAT EVERYONE ELSE’S PROBLEM: ✦ netanalo by js71, cal & tapal & rex & fives, 2.4k    The Senate had sent a child to see into the past. A Padawan, Ahsoka’s age, not much older. Rex’s heart pounded in his chest, climbing towards his throat, because damn the Senate, did they know how this would affect the kid, or did they just not care? ✦ what’s in a birthday (another year you live) by Ro29, luminara & barriss & gree & cast, 2.1k    The Jedi view life as something precious, and Commander Gree learns he has value for the simple fact that he is alive. ✦ Direct Action by silveryink, luminara & barriss & kix & cast, 4.3k    Upon investigating the health of her new battalion, Barriss discovers tumours located in all their heads. It’s a bigger problem than it appears to be. ✦ oh that dissolving light by wrennette, obi-wan/luminara, NSFW, 1.1k    Luminara and Obi-Wan enjoy an evening of relaxation together during the war. ✦ I Feel Glad When You’re Glad by Harpokrates, ahsoka & plo, 1k    Plo Koon considers his bright young charge. ✦ Non-Attachment and other Misconceptions by art_of_a_diffrent_color, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & plo & mace & qui-gon & cast, 3k wip    Plo Koon, fresh off the planet Shili with a two and a half-year-old girl in his custody, is sent to Naboo to collect the body of Qui-Gon Jinn and assess the mental health of his former Padawan. What happens that day changes everything. ✦ Battle Heavy by phoenixyfriend, anakin & padme (past anakin/padme), 2.2k    In which things are finalized, and emotions are settled. FOR THE OBITINE SHIPPERS, OF WHICH I AM ONE: ✦ atmosphere level by softredscrunchie, obi-wan/satine & qui-gon, 1k    As a joke, Satine tells Obi-Wan she thinks Mandalore is flat. He doesn’t take it well. MULTIGENERATIONAL STAR WARS IS THE BEST STAR WARS: ✦ Faith in Darkness by icarus_chained, luke & grogu & din & anakin & cast, force ghosts, 11.2k    Hindsight was perfect. And all nightmares came back, eventually. All nightmares came again. ✦ Paternal Relations by willowcrowned, obi-wan & anakin & luke, 1.2k    “No,” Vader says, “I am your father.” Every bit of the pain, the terror, and the rage that have been flooding Luke’s senses is completely drowned out by utter confusion. What, he thinks, the fuck. Oh shit, Luke thinks, Vader is my dad’s ex-husband. ✦ Burdening Fate by Be_Right_Back, obi-wan & din, 2k    There’s a wise old man standing in a field next to Din, with knowing eyes full of light. NOBODY NEEDS THEIR HEART TODAY ANYWAY: ✦ somewhere along in the bitterness by CallToMuster, obi-wan & anakin, read the warnings, 3.8k    It was probably the twelfth day floating alone in space that Obi-Wan and Anakin realized no one was coming for them. ✦ infinite sadness by billowypants, obi-wan & anakin, force ghosts, ~1k    You have always known what your purpose was in this world. Ever since you could think for yourself, you had somehow known that you were meant for infinite sadness. So what is unfolding in front of you right now makes no sense. ✦ this tired old elegy by grumpyhedgehogs, obi-wan & bly & jedi & clones, 2.4k    In which Bly is This Close to breaking out of the chip’s control by himself and Obi-Wan shows up to give him that extra push. ✦ programed to dream by ghostwriterofthemachine, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1.3k    The spaceship Comet-rider is the fastest, most efficient vessel in the galaxy, and is crewed by Separatist-funded pirates. Anakin Skywalker is missing. Unfortunately, these two things are connected. ✦ a trolley problem for jedi by nightdotlight, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & mace & depa & kanan, 4.1k    There’s this old problem. You may have heard of it. Something about a trolley, and a person, and a lever. A choice. ✦ premonition by grumpyhedgehogs, obi-wan & anakin, 2.6k    Anakin dreams of the future. (It isn’t bright.) ✦ Betrayal by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin, read the warnings, 1.5k    Obi-Wan gets to Coruscant earlier than expected after escaping from Utapau. It changes things. ✦ Together or Not at All by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin & padme, 2.7k    In the aftermath of the Battle of Geonosis, Anakin crashes, and Obi-Wan and Padmé struggle to keep him alive long enough to get him help, all while trying to face their new reality. The reality of war. FRIENDSHIP WITH CANON ENDED, THIS COOL AU IS MY NEW BEST FRIEND NOW: ✦ strip away my conscience (peel away my values) by gostaks, obi-wan & anakin & palpatine, sith!obi-wan, 1k    Obi-Wan Kenobi is an onion—he has layers. Beneath those layers, growing blacker every day, is the seed of the Republic’s fall. ✦ i am his brother, and i love him well by egeria, obi-wan/satine & anakin/padme, modern au, 2.9k    Anakin introduces Padmé to Obi-Wan. It goes well. Not that Anakin believes that. ✦ Tolnah kodaih kat delo anohrah'ak by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & jango & boba & cast, 4.2k wip    The one where Shmi is Jango’s older half-sister, Obi-Wan is raising a Mandalorian Padawan and Palpatine’s plans get ruined because four-year-old Boba Fett loves his cousin. ✦ No Death, Only the Force by ExtraPenguin, anakin & mace & depa & shmi, body swap, 2.8k    Anakin Skywalker is just about to to free his mother from the Tuskens when the Force rudely yanks him to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant – and into Mace Windu’s body. Mace, on the other hand, gets tossed into Anakin’s body on Tatooine.
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ckret2 · 15 days
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after reading your goldie fic I think it’s alright for me to assume that you’re a Mabel liker. And that’s great because I am too!! But, I’m sure you know about the Mabel haters in the fandom and they use reasons such as “she’s selfish” and “doesn’t feel any remorse for causing Weirdmageddon” to justify their hatred for her even more. I just wanna hear your thoughts about these claims and what you think about Mabel haters in general? (also hi hope you’re doing well :))
I think Mabel haters are ridiculous lmao
I've got nothing to say that hasn't already been said by hundreds of other people who think the Mabel hate is ridiculous, but she's no more selfish than any of the other main characters (and also significantly less), pretty much any time during the show that she IS being selfish (Boyz Crazy, Sock Opera) she realizes she's out of line and corrects herself, and honestly I suspect too many people took Bill's deliberately manipulative analysis of her in Sock Opera as the truth instead of asking sensible questions like "wait, why is Dipper keeping the job that lets him hang out with Wendy slightly more than all the time he already spends hanging out with her more important than helping a lost merboy reconnect with his family? Why is that a 'Mabel is selfish' point rather than a 'Mabel guided Dipper into doing the morally right thing' point?"
The only time we fully focused on Mabel long enough to find out whether she regretted being tricked by someone disguised as a friend into starting Weirdmageddon was Escape From Reality... at which point she hadn't been told Weirdmageddon was happening. Once she found out, she kind of spent the rest of the series stopping it?
We have whole episodes dedicated to her inserting herself into other people's lives to try to solve their (personal or romantic) problems, because she can't stand seeing anyone feel bad. We have a whole episode where she has a breakdown about potentially not being a good (enough) person. We have multiple episodes that end with her saying "I'm sorry" to Dipper (and Pacifica, and Candy, and Grenda...) after she recognizes her mistake—which is more than most characters do after realizing their mistakes. Selfishness is not her predominant character trait.
She's got flaws, sure, and anyone is welcome to dislike a character for any reason. I enjoy the fact that she's sometimes kinda obnoxious in a "loud child" way, that she hasn't learned yet when well-intentioned meddling makes things worse, that she's comfortable enough with teasing her brother that sometimes she doesn't realize when her teasing goes too far, that she's afraid of the future because she sees better things for herself in the present that she's scared of losing. Other people might not enjoy those flaws. That's okay.
But when the two biggest criticisms of her are [trait the villain misrepresented to manipulate her brother] and [action the villain misrepresented to manipulate her into doing], people are missing the point.
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teecupangel · 5 months
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I'm almost sorry to add another story idea to your backlog pile, BUT:
Elijah finds out what his dad went through, manages to break into a parallel universe, time travels to the 3 eras of the main ancestors, and tries to change things enough to save Desmond. Altair, Ezio, and Ratonhnhake:ton ask this tiny, angry, sarcastic, cactus of a child why he's doing what he's doing, and he eventually explains it over time.
Desmond, on the other hand, is watching all of this through the animus: a son he didn't know existed was trying to save him. An infant who he had never met, and who had never met him, was fighting time and reality itself to save him from a fate that still hasn't been explained, was showing more care and love and compassion for him than anyone Desmond had ever known before. And it hurts, because Desmond just grows to love him more and more, but thinks he'll never truly meet him outside of a Bleed.
Elijah never seems to age, even though he spends like forty years picking on Ezio. There's a statue of him in the Monterrigioni sanctuary, and he hates it with a passion.
Just... Elijah trying to fuck up time enough to save his dad, and Desmond watching all of it both touched and heartbroken, because if he's going through all of this anyways, it was all for nothing.
Then Elijah comes out of nowhere in the Grand Temple and sucker punches Juno with a data virus he had hardcoded into their lineage's DNA over nine centuries lmao
Please never be sorry for sending me an ask. Pile as much as you want as long as you guys understand that it would take a while for me to answer them (a month or so at this point XD)
Okay, but can you just imagine if Elijah was just a teenager in this one? That would give more of a sucker punch vibe to Desmond once he learns who Elijah is.
He has the ability to time travel but he can’t control where he gets sent. His goal had been to save Desmond Miles but he made the mistake of tying his time to Desmond Miles and not to someone more stable like Rebecca Crane or Shaun Hastings.
Hell, William Miles would be a better choice.
Because…
Desmond Miles’ ‘time’ is connected to the memories he watch in the Animus, making Elijah slip in and out of certain ‘times’, following the memories Desmond watches.
Desmond assumed Elijah was one of the informants in Altaïr’s memories. It’s only when Altaïr began to see him as an annoying child who always got in the way of Altaïr’s missions that Elijah told the truth.
Why?
Because Elijah has nothing to lose from telling Altaïr the truth. He was a prisoner of time itself, being yanked time and time again. He has a theory that he was being yanked to the time in Altaïr’s life where Desmond was watching him so he figured he could give Desmond information as well using Altaïr.
It would be funny, after all.
The Isus have chosen Ezio Auditore to be their prophet.
Why couldn’t Elijah make Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad his prophet then?
And he’ll take Ezio Auditore from the Isus as well.
Maybe it was Aita’s selfishness and desire for power.
Maybe it was his very own selfish desire to have something that was truly his.
“Shall we make a deal, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad?”
“A deal?” Those golden eyes seemed to pierce his very soul.
But it didn’t matter what he saw.
He cannot begin to fathom the truth.
Not yet, anyway.
Right now, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad was a man lost in a vicious snowstorm threatening to swallow him whole and pull him to his frozen grave.
He still haven’t found the warmth he was meant to have, given to him by the Calculations.
“My name is Elijah.” He said, “I am a child of Time itself.”
“What nonsen-”
“I will correctly tell you what will happen when you confront Garnier de Naplouse.” Elijah stated, making Altaïr stop from walking away from him. Altaïr turned just enough to stare at him with one of his golden eyes as Elijah continued, “And I will tell you the future you are meant to have.”
“And what do you want in exchange?”
“From you? Nothing.” Elijah admitted, “All I want is a bit of your time.”
“My time?”
“To talk to Desmond Miles.”
Altaïr frowned as he said, “I do not know anyone by that name.”
“I know.” Elijah answered with a nod, “But he’s watching you. The Templars are forcing him to watch you right now and it is because he is forced to watch you that he comes to care for you so…”
“I will help you save yourself, Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad.” Elijah said, “To change your fate to whatever you desire, instead of what has been laid out in front of you. In exchange…”
“All I ask is you listen to me so I can take to my father.” Elijah’s lips curved into a small smirk that felt more Aita than him, “And to commemorate my first message to my father, I believe I should tell him an important truth.”
“Lucy Stillman is a Templar who betrayed the Assassins.”
(I feel like in this case, Elijah would provide more information and let Altaïr do what he wants. He only starts to actually have a more active roll once the memory seals from ACR starts and he grows close to Altaïr’s children. By the time he gets to Ezio and Ratonhnhaké:ton, he’s more ‘fuck the backseat, I’m driving’ and actively helps. This ends up with Elijah finally ‘returning’ to Desmond Miles’ time just as Minerva and Juno told him what will happen if he lets the world burn and, by that point, Elijah had already completed a device that would force Juno’s consciousness to operate the device in Desmond’s stead).
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nebulaafterdark · 1 year
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Heyy girlie, can we please get another smutty Harwin one-shot?🧎🏻‍♀️Maybe one where reader is already a few months pregnant with the fourth child, and they're trying to get at it while they're visiting family (any major house/castle) for a few months?
Hey! I’m gonna just jump to every conclusion that this is Queen’s Hand related, because you mentioned their fourth child. If not, shameless plug, go read The Queen’s Hand. Thanks for requesting!
My Princess
Summary: Princess Y/N Targaryen and her husband Ser Harwin are visiting her sister Rhaenyra on Dragon Stone. Harwin wants a few minutes alone.
18+ ONLY, SMEXY TIMES
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When Y/N discovers she is pregnant, both she and her husband are in shock. They had not been trying for another child, in fact they carefully prevented it. As they are parents to three wonderful children already, the youngest of whom, their only son, caused his mother a great deal of hardship on the birthing bed.
The princess panicked, as did Harwin, though he never made his apprehension known. He simply loved her through it, that’s what Harwin does, he loves her through it. Through the first weeks of tears and constant worry, through the nausea and morning sickness, to the bump that makes itself known at the half way mark of her term.
Now they are off visiting Rhaenyra, Daemon and their children on Dragon Stone. It will be the last time they travel dragon back before the birth of the new babe.
Harwin loves his wife, their children and her family. Forever loyal to the mighty house Targaryen. Spending time with her lot has never bothered him, but getting Y/N alone is nearly impossible.
The children run her round until all hours, and when it is time to retire, Rhaenyra finds her way to their chambers. The sisters have never been apart as they are now, so when they are together, separating them is difficult.
While Ser Harwin will never voice his frustration, Daemon has no problem doing so.
“I want my wife in my bed.” The Prince tells Rhaenyra, leaning against the doorframe. Though he loves Y/N, enough is enough and the line must be drawn somewhere.
“Oh alright,” Rhaenyra waves him over.
Daemon smirks at her, “goodnight, Y/N. Goodnight, Ser Harwin.”
“Goodnight.” Y/N yawns as the door closes behind them.
Harwin huffs a laugh, seating himself at the foot of their guest mattress.
“Are you not pleased, my love?” The Princess taps a toe to his back.
“I am quite pleased, Princess. Finally I have you alone.” He turns, catching her foot. “All night.”
Y/N grins at him, stroking a hand over her belly. There are stories she heard coming up, about men who wouldn’t touch their wives when they were with child. That sex was for producing heirs and once that was done, there was no farther need. The knight would hear none of that.
“See,” he looks to his wife. “You’re proud of what you’ve done.”
“I am proud that you find me attractive in this state, yes.”
“Do you want to know the truth of it?”
Y/N nods as Harwin takes her foot, laying a kiss to her ankle.
“I find you attractive in every state, but this,” his lips move higher, up her shin to the knee. “Is a privilege. To watch you swell with my child, our child, created solely from my love for you…” The groan that rubbles out from low in his chest has Y/N sucking her bottom lip between her teeth.
The Princess tells him. “I would bear you a hundred children, if I could.”
He stops to nuzzle her belly before continuing upwards, feathering light kisses to the low neckline of her dress. Her breasts swollen and sensitive from the growing babe. “But we must not take chances, my love. I do not intend to outlive you.”
“I know that you worry…and for good reason.” After the last time. After both of their mothers and countless women who’ve lost their lives on the birthing bed. “But I am here now because of you.”
“You are here now because you are strong. I will do everything within my power to aid in the timely and easy birth of this child.”
Y/N pecks a kiss to his cheek. “You are a selfless and noble man.”
He turns to catch her lips. “I am nothing without you.” Harwin murmurs, with reverence. Peeling away the layers of her clothes while the Princess makes quick work of his own.
Her eyes find his as they break apart, cupping his face, stroking her thumbs over his cheeks. Struggling to find words for the emotion that tugs deep within the strings of her heart.
“I know.” Harwin assures her, with gentle kisses to her forehead and nose.
Y/N nods, leaning into his touch. Harwin and their children are the world to her, she shows them everyday. Though the right sentiments evade her, love for them does not.
They fall onto the mattress, Harwin holding his weight above her, mindful of their child.
“Closer,” Y/N pleads, tugging him toward her lips.
“Turn around for me.” Harwin leans back on his heels, with a little love tap to his wife’s behind as she moves to face away from him.
She smirks, swatting at his hand. “Ser Harwin!”
“Forgive me, Princess.” He chuckles, lining his cock up with her hot little cunt.
Y/N is not one for formalities, not with her beloved husband, and certainly not in their marriage bed. However she is not above teasing and through his love, she finally found a love for her title.
“My princess.” He breathes against the shell of her ear.
It sends a shiver down her spine. “Please.”
The knight groans, easing himself into her. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He smooths a hand over her back, gentling her into her forearms. His thrusts are slow and deep, teasing at that spot within her.
Y/N whimpers, twisting her fingers in the bed sheets, in the absences of his hand.
“Longed for you all day. For this. To bring you back to our rooms and bury myself inside you.”
“I?” She had done nothing but chase children round the castle.
“Always you, only you.” Harwin says between gritted teeth, her walls tight around his length, her wetness growing with each pass.
Y/N hums, low in her throat as his hands angle her hips just so…so deep, the tip of him kissing her cervix with each pass. “Fuck.” It’s nearly too much.
“Come here, sweetheart. Back up on your knees, lean against me.” I want to kiss you.
The Princess obeys, bringing her back to her husband’s chest, allowing him to support her weight with gentle arms held around her. One hand sneaking down to toy with her bundle of nerves. “Harwin,” she all but wails.
His poor, sensitive, sweet wife, completely at his mercy. “Hush now,” the knight whispers, turning her face toward him slightly, swallowing her cries as he takes her breast in hand. Rolling her sensitive nipple to a firm peak.
Her first orgasm surprises them both, churning her insides to molten lava. Tears cascading over her cheeks, mouth open wide, panting. Squealing in protest when his movements do not cease.
“Shhh,” Harwin cooes, thumbing feather light circles over her pearl. “Gentle. I will be gentle.”
Her cunt still pulses around him, encouraging his thrusts to continue.
“Don’t fight, let it come, sweetheart.”
The pleasure is blinding, surely she will die of it. Y/N has both hands tightly fisted in his dark curls. “I- Harwin.”
“I know,” Harwin soothes a hand along her side. “I’ve got you. Make a mess on my cock.”
She sobs her release into the quiet air of their guest quarters. Soaking him in her slick and knocking his greedy fingers from her clit. “Enough. Cum for me now.”
He thrusts into her thrice more before finding his release. Coming down to the feel of his wife’s gentle kisses, delicate fingers stroking his hair. Falling onto their sides to catch their breath.
“I love you.” Y/N yawns, beginning to doze already.
“I love you, Y/N.” More than you will ever know. More than words can say.
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daidonzo · 1 year
Text
Girls just wanna have fun
A/N: little insight on what i think Chishiya and the reader's relationship is like after the ending of As much as you want. •ᴗ•
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Usagi and Arisu were getting married.
Chishiya had simply congratulated them when they announced the news. Kuina had been shocked, but had run to open a bottle of champagne to celebrate. Ann, on video call, busy because of work, had clapped and cheered, just as anyone would. Your reaction, however, had been a bit different.
"A child bride." You had gasped, eyes wide open, half-joking, half-actually-serious, your voice low so that nobody but him could hear. "What's next, teenage pregnancy?"
Chishiya silently laughed, burying his face in your hair so that nobody could see, one arm around you.
"She's your age." He pointed out, entertained by your reaction.
"And what am I? A literal child." You whispered, brows raised.
"A literal child way past her twenties."
"Three words: I. Am. Baby." You lifted a finger with each of them, and then stuck your tongue out.
The two of you had been dating for as long as Usagi and Arisu had, but clearly your relationship had a different timeline. Chishiya didn't mind. You, judging by your comments, didn't either.
"I wonder, what will I do now with the ring that I have in my pocket…?" Chishiya asked, teasing you, staring at the ceiling as if the answer to his question laid there.
"Don't you dare." You pointed your index finger at him, menacingly.
He chuckled, and lifted both arms above his head, his palms directed at you.
Things had been good. You had found a job in Japan, which meant you could stay for as long as you wanted and had moved on your own, although truth be told, Kuina pretty much lived with you, even if she didn't pay rent. The two of you had become inseparable. Ann and Usagi had later on joined your little group.
Chishiya and you also spent a lot of time together. He had got a definite workplace in a hospital close to where you lived and would come spend most nights. Or afternoons. Or mornings.
It didn't matter the time of the day, if he was available, the two of you were together.
Yeah… One could say things were better than good.
-------------------------------------------------- The night of the bachelorette party came.
Usagi had wanted something simple. To go to dinner with her best friends, maybe have a couple of drinks and call it a night.
Kuina and you had a different idea.
Ann just let you do whatever you wanted, lifting her shoulders every time Arisu or Chishiya would ask, as if saying "Well, what can I do to stop them?".
So you did go to dinner. But then you also went to a huge party in some fancy club, all of you dressed in pink except Usagi, who was forced to dress in white, wear a crown and a t-shirt saying "Here comes the bride!".
Chishiya had been working the whole time. He had a night shift, and it was about nine in the morning when he finally was done. First thing he did after changing into his normal clothes was checking his phone.
And saw he had an impressive amount of notifications. He was surprised the device hadn't blown up.
He opened his always on-going conversation with you. You never said goodbye, not even good night. You just went to sleep, and would continue where you left off the following morning. Sometimes you would write "(going to sleep, love you, tty in the morning <3)" between parenthesis, but that's as much as he would get.
Again, Chishiya didn't mind. He loved it.
He stopped to look at your photo, holding one of your parents' cats. It was from a trip you took on Christmas to your home country. You had kept saying that this particular cat reminded you of him.
He read the messages with a smile on his face:
hiiiiiii! we just had dinner and we are going to go to da club nowwww
After that, you had sent a picture of your food and another one of your outfit in what was probably the bathroom of the restaurant. You were wearing a pink dress and looked absolutely beautiful, at least in Chishiya's opinion.
hi agaiiiiiin, in the club now!!! good music today, i know every single song
i really hope i'm not bothering you and your phone's on muuuuuuuute
miss u
miss u again
miss u a third time <3
A picture of the four of you. A video of you singing one of the songs with the lyrics copypasted down below, because they said stuff about being in love and you wanted him to know you were thinking about him when they played it.
i'm having so much fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun
wish u were here <3
A lot of pictures of Usagi. More selfies of you. Selfies with Kuina.
Your writing got worse. The messages more sappy.
i jst wished i coold go home and be with u tnight bcs i miss u
u mean evvrthing 2 meeeeeeeeeeee
bst dctor ever
go bby go!!!!!!!
A picture of you, sent by Kuina using your phone, in what seemed like a car. You were sleeping.
You had another message, from Arisu:
I went to pick the girls up. Kuina is with your girl at her appartment. Everything fine! b(^^)b
Thanks, Arisu.
Chishiya put his phone in the pocket of his dark jeans after replying to the text and left the hospital.
It was about an hour later when he rang your door bell using his elbow, holding three coffees in his right hand and a brown bag with breakfast buns for three in the left one.
Kuina opened up, very sleepy, wearing pyjamas. But her eyes grew wider when she saw the coffee Chishiya was holding, extending both arms to grab it and opening and closing her hands, clearly thrilled.
"You're the absolute best!" She said after taking the first sip and Chishiya simply tilted his head to one side, conceding. He left everything he was carrying on the kitchen counter.
"She's still sleeping?"
"I would be as well. She's in her room."
The woman with dreadlocks just threw herself on your sofa and turned the TV on.
Chishiya went to your room, opening the door without knocking, because you probably wouldn't have heard it, sleeping as you were. You usually slept in the weirdest positions, but now, you were on your side, both your arms below your pillow. You were still wearing the make-up from the night before. He smiled when he saw you were wearing one of his t-shirts.
Silently, he took off his shoes, and climbed to bed with you, placing himself at your back and putting an arm around you.
"Chishiya?" You whispered groggily, not even opening your eyes just moving backwards so that you could be closer to him.
"No."
"Yes you are, dummy."
He smiled and gave you a kiss on the top of your head, covering the both of you with the blanket.
"Had fun?"
"Yes, very much so. How was work? All good?"
"Boring."
"Boring means good. No accidents. No meteorites."
Chishiya laughed at that. You had met in the hospital, after being victims of a meteorite hitting Shibuya. In his opinion, a natural disaster wasn't such a bad thing.
It had brought you into his life.
"Did you bring Kuina coffee?" You asked, suddenly, opening one of your eyes and turning your face so that you could look at him.
"I did."
"I think you just moved to the number one position in her list of favorite people."
"What number am I in yours?"
"Did you bring me coffee?"
"No."
"I know you did, so you are number one."
"Because I brought you coffee?"
"No." You flashed him a lopsided grin, cheekily. You used to do it only sarcastically at first, but Chishiya had mentioned once or twice much he liked it when you started dating, so you had incorporated it to your list of smiles. This one you used when you wanted to mess with him. "Because I know you brought me a cinnamon bun."
The blonde laughed, and you ended up completely turning around in his arms so that you could be face to face. You gave him a kiss on the tip of the nose, then on the lips.
"Can we stay here a little bit longer?" You asked, feeling warm and safe.
"Yes. But only a little bit."
A small wrinkle appeared between your brows, and you squinted your eyes.
"Why?"
"Kuina will eat all the breakfast."
You laughed and cuddled up to him.
Five more minutes wouldn't hurt anyone.
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queenie-official · 5 months
Text
Chapter Three: ‘First Impressions’ Bridgerton au!Anakin
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part 1, part 2
a/n: so the outfits that Obi-Wan and Ani are wearing are the ones in the photos ☝️🤭but guys tell me how i had more of chapter four planned out then i did this chapter 🤨 like i fr already had dialogue for chapter four before i even started this one 😀 anyway i hope you guys like this 🥰
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Once more you find yourself pacing around in an endless circle. Today was the day you were to meet him. The wedding was already set to happen in a week. however invitations wouldn’t be handed out for another two days, the council told you it would be wise to get to know your future husband a bit first- but honestly how much could you really learn about a person in such a short amount of time. it’s not like you had a week to get to know each other, no you had the day to get to know him before he’d be back off to his own kingdom till the wedding.
“you need to calm down” Padme’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. you look over to where she’s sat on the settee, a concerned look on her face. you’d asked her to come over and help distract you. to her credit she did try at first but she quickly realized nothing she could say or do would occupy your mind from the days events. “i’m calm” you say trying to convince yourself that more then her. “if you can say that while standing still, i’ll believe you” she retorts whilst standing up and walking over to you forcing you to stop pacing as she places her hands on your shoulders.
“you can’t blame me for being nervous, i mean wether this goes well or not this is the man i am to spend the rest of my life with” you vent, feeling your anxiety swirl. you felt like this was an impossible situation, marrying someone you didn’t know. obviously it was a common thing but it didn’t make the reality of it any weirder to you. “what if he doesn’t want to marry me?” it was a stupid question, the better question would be why would he want to marry you. he was being moved away from his home to a foreign place with different traditions and cultures. not to mention an entirely different climate, you’d read up on Tatooine it was a Warm desert kingdom a direct contrast to Alderaan.
“that’s a possibility” Padme answers, not the reassurance you wanted but you didn’t call padme here because she would lie to make you feel better. you called her here because she would give it to you straight but also support you the best way she could. “so then i’ve forced a man into a loveless marriage” you huff, feeling anger course through you as your once again reminded of the councils rash decision that got you into this.
“most people these days end up in loveless marriages y/n. most women at least, we have no say in who we marry it’s all decided by our fathers.” that once again didn’t make you feel any better but it was the hard truth. “this is going to be a long day” you’d slump over if you could but the corset you had on prevented you from most movement that involved bending of any form. “maybe you’ll be pleasantly surprised” you could only hope she was right.
“i know it’s silly but growing up i always imagined marrying someone i fell in love with. my mom and dad where in love when they got married, a rare occurrence for monarchs. i always pictured having what they did.” you say sadly, it may not be the end of the world that your marrying a stranger but it was the end of that dream. a cruel awakening to your inner child. “it’s not silly, most little girls wish that” Padme says sympathetically.
“if my dad where still alive he’d have ensured it a reality” you say solemnly, feeling your heart tug at the thought. “Bail was a good man, a good king and a good father” you feel your eyes gloss over at her words, it was times like this you really missed him. your father was everything to you, he was all you had when your mother passed and vice versa. losing him felt like mourning two people at once, learning how to cope without your mother all over again in addition to coping without him.
“i miss him” it came out more as a whisper, you felt that if you spoke any louder the dam would break and tears would spill. Padme was quick to pull you into a tight hug. she was a big help when you lost him, a loyal friend who you knew would always be on your side. “i can’t help but feel i’m failing him” you let out the thought that had been nagging at the back of your mind throughout this whole ordeal. “he was and always will be proud of you” she said firmly, rubbing your back gently.
“would he be proud of me for this though?” you couldn’t help but ask. “circumstances changed y/n, you’ve done what you could. besides it’s not as if this was entirely your decision” she reassured you. you take a deep breath, indulging in the hug you both shared a moment longer before pulling away. “speaking of i really need to do something about the council before another reckless decision is made.”
“the sooner you’re crowned the Queen the better” she says with a laugh trying to lighten the mood, though she was being completely serious. right as you where about to respond your conversation was interrupted by Barclay barging in, an occurrence that was becoming more and more frequent with him.
“your majesty they’re here” he said and you stiffened, the reality of the situation crashing down onto you. you knew this was coming but it hadn’t truly felt real til now.
“oh i’m going to be sick” you mumble just loud enough for padme to hear, she gives you a gentle pat on the back a silent way of saying you’ve got this. as if suddenly reminded of her existence Barclay acknowledges her “Lady Amidala pleasure to see you” it surprisingly sounded genuine, though to be fair he had been sucking up to you the last couple days clearly something clicked in his mind that you where the one who controlled wether he actually had a job or not. that or there was something else motivating him either way his change in attitude didn’t sit right with you, something was off and you could sense it.
“Barclay” was all padme said to greet him not even bothering to turn in his direction to acknowledge him properly. you had to stifle a laugh, god you loved her. she kept her head high and walked right past him, she would be leaving through the gardens so no one knew she was there. the meeting was to be kept secret from everyone aside from the respective royal families.
with a sigh you nodded towards Barclay to signify you where ready. you both walked down the hallways heading to the main foyer, with each step you took you felt as if you where being pulled down. finding it harder and harder to move forward the closer you got. these where your last moments to breath without someone beside you- metaphorically of course, after all as a royal there’s always someone at least five steps from you which was tiring to say the least.
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you could swear time was simultaneously moving faster then light and slower then molasses as you watched Barclay nod to the guards to open the doors that stand as the only barrier between you and the one you are to wed. it was hard to breath? but just as quick as the breath got stuck in you it was knocked right out as one of the guards rose there voice impossibly loud to announce your arrival.
“now presenting her Majesty, the Crown Princess Y/n Organa” it honestly made your ears ring but at the very least it served as a nice reminder of where you are and pulled you back down to earth. still it all felt a bit excessive to you considering there was only four people here excluding the guards.
Walking further in so that you and Barclay where now face to face with the two men, you scanned over them quickly. they both where good looking you had to admit, what threw you off though was how drastically different they where dressed from each other. for a moment you almost thought they came from two different places but quickly brushed that off knowing good and well that wasn’t the case.
“hel-“ just as you began to greet the two men you are quickly cut off by a third party you hadn’t even noticed was there. Chancellor Valorum. “greetings you are?” he said and you paused turning to see him standing behind you, how long had he been there? no one else seemed shocked so he must of been there for quite some time you concluded. but why was he there? deciding to act like you had known he was there you turn back to the two men. to your surprise the older looking one of the two directed his attention to you and not Valorum. it brought a small smile to your face, feeling like it was a nice change of pace finally be acknowledged instead of looked over.
“I am Prince Obi-Wan first born son of the Kingdom Tatooine. and this” he gestured to the pretty blonde beside him who could easily tower over you if he was close enough. “is my brother Anakin” he finished and you felt a little giddy, so far so good right? he was tall and handsome you could only hope he was kind and had a personality as good as he looked. though to your dismay the aforementioned man hadn’t even spared you a glance, thinking on it he hadn’t looked at you even when you first entered the room. that fact made your stomach twist.
“neither of your parents are joining us?” the chancellor spoke again before you could get a word in, honestly he was one more sentence away from you clocking him in the face. but you hold your breath and maintain your composure. this time Obi-Wan does acknowledge him but only to answer his question and you were guessing to not seem rude. “unfortunately our mother and father are quite busy but as the future king they deemed it enough for me to go with my brother for this” you felt like a child who could do nothing but watch as the grown ups speak as you look back and forth from the chancellor and him.
Thankfully Obi-Wan was quick to redirect his attention to you. “your highness shall we discuss matters more privately?” why couldn’t conversation with people of power always go this way, taking to you instead of over you. you give him a polite smile before answering. “yes let’s move this elsewhere” you say with a nod. “lead the way.” was all he said in turn.
as you all walk down the halls of the castle you can’t help but notice how quiet prince Anakin was. it worried you, was he always this quiet or was he choosing not to say anything. did he already hate you- to be fair if he did you wouldn’t blame him. if the roles where reversed and your kingdom had been basically black mailed into giving you up as marriage you’d probably hate the person you thought responsable as well. you found yourself actually wishing you two where alone so you could explain yourself and hope he could understand. Then again who’d say he’d believe you, it was worth a try though wasn’t it?
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unsurprisingly throughout most of the meeting chancellor Valorum spoke for you any chance he could. and just as in the foyer Obi-Wan directed his answers to you. time dragged as you guys finished up flushing out the details of the agreement more thoroughly. it was all so casual and you couldn’t help but feel sick especially with Anakin sitting right there not saying a word. you couldn’t even get a read on his emotions his face was a blank slate. it made you anxious and you weren’t sure if you wanted to just hurry up and get all of this over already or drag it out longer so you could procrastinate the inevitable.
it was evident just how long the meeting had taken when you were met with the setting sun as you looked out the window. a panic ran through you when you realized you had no time at all to talk Anakin now and the next time you’d see him would be the day of the wedding. you where now truly going into this marriage blind- not that you would of learned much about him today regardless but anything would be better than nothing.
closing up the meeting with a handshake between the chancellor and Obi-Wan, even though he had clearly held his hand out for you- you all stand up and head out of the meeting room.
Anakin had still yet to say a word, Obi-Wan being the one to speak on both there behalf’s when saying goodbye. even as they walked away you watched as he didn’t even speak to his brother, maybe he was mad and his silence was the politest protest he could do. you could only hope your whole marriage wouldn’t be like this, what an awkward life that would be. though maybe you’d get used to it at some point.
all of these thoughts swimming in your head stopped as a pair of blue eyes met yours, it was brief and for a second you thought you’d imagined it. he had look back at you right before the castle doors closed.
that’s all you had to go off of until you would meet again for the wedding day.
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part 4
okay guys the next chapter will feature a lot more Anakin and yes the pretty boy will speak 🥰 this took me forever to finish 😀 mainly because i’ve been writing this in between doing work 👩‍🦯👩‍🦯 anyways i hope you all like this chapter i know it was a lot more emotional then the others but reader is going through a lot at once 😭 side note i love reading your reply’s you guys are funny and real asf🤭 that’s all i have to say for now enjoy huns Xx<3
tag list: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss
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thenightfolknetwork · 2 months
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Ok so, I'm not...supposed to exist?
I am—er, well, was an imaginary friend. My "brother" was a lonely little boy who was quite neglected looking back, and he wanted someone to spend his time with, a "sister".
So he dreamed, and I came to be. Now, even as a child he wasn't the most imaginative sort, preferring to imagine things he could see and wonder about what was rather than make something new completely from scratch. So, in his mind, his sister looked just like him, just with longer hair. I think that's one of the reasons i'm...like this.
Most children describe their imaginary friends as fantastical, with great glittering wings or neon spots and the like. Most children stop talking or believing in their imaginary friends around a certain age. Most children cannot see someone else's friend. No one, outside of the child, can see an imaginary friend.
Until now? I think? These are all observations I've made.
I remember only existing when my brother was around. We would play and "go on adventures" and just have fun. When it was dinner time, I would sit beside him and eat... but couldn't eat. I would say things to make him laugh, but no one else would acknowledge I was there. I didn't think much of it at the time since..well, I couldn't think. I wasn't real.
As he grew, he must have imagined me growing as well. As he learned, I did, too, and must have adjusted accordingly. Unlike his peers, he was convinced that I was a person and was angry when people told him otherwise.
We got older and he got more insistent when suddenly, people started to play along. Pretending to see me and talk to me when it was clear that they couldn't. I think this was when I started to...feel things? Think?
We fought, my brother and I. He was graduating secondary and heading to Uni. I asked him why he still imagined me when it was clear he didn't need me anymore. He said he did need me. I didn't believe him, we argued, and he left.
I was still there.
Before, time almost seemed to...skip? Think cutscenes from those video games everyone seems to like playing. The day ends, I blink and it's morning, no sleep needed. Brother was distracted? Time skips until he addressed me again.
I've never not been without him before. I panicked. I collapsed against the wall and I felt it. The cool wall, the tears streaming down my face, my brother's hug when he came to apologize. I don't know how to handle it.
When we sat down for dinner, his mum and dad addressed me and asked if I was alright, as if they had always known I existed. They could see me and my distress. I tried to explain, but everyone looked at me confused. They told me that of course i existed, I always did.
But I know the truth. There are no pictures of me in this house. There are no school records of me or medical ones. I have no bedroom or clothes of my own. I did not exist.
I don't know exactly when I became "real" but I am now. I just...I don't know what to do? I wasn't real and now I am and everyone calls me crazy for thinking otherwise. How does one exist? My brother is leaving for Uni soon and everyone expects the same of me, as if I've been accepted into one. I haven't, I've checked.
Why do I exist? Why does no one acknowledge that I never did?
Please.
I'm scared.
I'm so glad you've written in, reader. Quite apart from the existential questions your situation raises, there is also rather a lot of paperwork involved.
It is possible to live in the UK without being part of the civil bureaucratic system – indeed, there are certain isolated genuses whose right to do so has been fiercely protected over the generations. But it's a tremendously difficult way to live if you have any intention of engaging with the economic, education or healthcare systems.
The Bunbury Institute of Manifested Personages should be your first port of call to tackle the logistical and legal difficulties presented by your case. They'll be able to get you sorted with all the documentation you need to prove your existence, including a Certificate of Corporeal Incarnation, which will stand in where others might use their birth certificate.
Once you legally exist, you'll be able to open a bank account, apply for a passport, and essentially make whatever choices you want to make about how to spend the rest of your existence. Which brings me to the real heart of your letter – the emotional impact of your change in circumstance.
Sudden onset incarnation is a profoundly disruptive experience no matter how, when or to whom it occurs. Even if your family were able to understand the situation and support you through it, it would still be an extremely difficult situation to navigate. As it is, the nature of your previous existence and the way your incarnation has taken effect means they're just not able to.
You ask why nobody acknowledges your previous non-existence. Generally speaking, most people find it extremely difficult to the point of near impossibility to really understand divergent realities. It's not that your family are trying to undermine you – they are literally, psychologically and biologically, incapable of understanding how you have come to be.
I strongly recommend you find someone to talk to about this issue as soon as you can. Without your legal paperwork in place, it will be difficult to access mental health support either privately or through the NHS. However, the Bunbury Institute and other such charitable organisations may be able to put you in touch with support groups for others like yourself.
What's important is that you know, you're not alone in this. Whatever your family may believe, your experiences are real and valid. And, now, so are you. It's going to be a big adjustment, figuring out how you want to live in the world now you're here. Try not to get too overwhelmed. Take things one day at a time, try to keep an eye on the positives, and give yourself the grace and time you need to process the negatives. In time, I feel sure you'll be able to build a life that feels right for you.
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