Tumgik
#I love them so much and wish I had discovered the ship when it was in its PRIME
taydaq · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
blurring all the lines, you intoxicate me
.
tagging: @imabillyami, @harmshake, @chatterskull, @moxleys-tits, @romoxsquad, @ambreiqns, @cookiethewriter, @catboymansion, @jackforshort, @shanie-the-komania-toyaddict, and @usosthetics! (let me know if you want to be tagged or not).
90 notes · View notes
bibiundtinaundzombies · 2 months
Text
au in which robert, the starks and the lannisters play monopoly instead of going hunting and pushing each other‘s kids from towers.
tyrion implements a tax system to make things more interesting and fights cersei over the cat for a solid ten minutes.
around thirty minutes into the game, catelyn realizes that she has free will and stops paying taxes.
arya and sansa haggle over new york avenue, which ends up being bought by theon. this causes the two to completely cast aside their differences, ally and subsequently start doing everything in their power to make theon‘s life hell.
theon himself is quite severely stoned the entire time throughout.
ned enters horrendous debt pretty much immediately and, after two hours of being financially sucked dry by both cersei and his tax evader of a wife, decides to just place his figurine in jail and never leave.
jon, playing the dog, controls the railroads and makes jaime, playing the ship, go completely broke within minutes. being beaten by a bastard and officially the first to lose the game makes jaime so mad he spends the rest of the evening perched on the family‘s ancestral armchair eating flaming hot cheetos and stifling sobs.
cersei is holding onto her last two dollars and her one house in atlantic avenue like a maniac and evades taxes like it‘s an olympic sport. she claims ownership of kentucky avenue on the grounds that red is her house‘s color at least twice. after three hours, she‘s consumed enough vintage red to kill a large mammal and keeps quoting the art of war. fascinatingly enough, she never goes completely broke.
robert, just as broke and drunk as his wife but not nearly as ferocious, proposes marriage for tax advantages to bran, who is in possession of the boardwalk and lets him dangle on his proposition for two rounds before accepting and feeling like a benevolent god.
sansa sees this and immediately proposes to arya, who accepts, only for them to be sued by their mother for public indecency („you‘re siblings, jesus christ!“). arya argues that this is just a game and that one could argue that robert‘s and bran‘s marital alliance is just as if not even more inappropriate, considering that bran is seven and robert thirtyseven. sansa countersues her mother for tax evasion, who promises she‘ll drop her lawsuit if her daughters let her keep hoarding perverse amounts of wealth. „love wins!“ arya says, which causes jaime, still perched on the armchair but now eating old nan‘s home made whiskey truffles, to hysterically sob. cersei stares him down.
robb, in a rare moment of almost prophetic foresight, excuses himself one hour in and goes on a very, VERY long walk with grey wind.
tyrion, whose tax system has spectacularly backfired in his face, proposes marriage to catelyn, jon and cersei in rapid succession, who all turn him down. „i wish i was the monster you think i am. i wish i had enough poison for the whole pack of you. i would gladly give my life to watch you all swallow it.“ he screams before he leaves the table.
at that, joffrey, who has refused to participate and instead sits on the couch playing doom on his nintendo ds, starts hysterically laughing. tyrion turns on his heel and awards his nephew with the bitchslap of the century. this causes cersei to completely abandon the game and chase after him with a broom. catelyn makes sure that everyone is distracted by the lannister antics and then reaches across the table and bags cersei‘s money and properties.
with a heavy heart, myrcella trades arya and sansa one of her limited edition bayala schleich unicorns for park place.
at this point, the game is between the tycoons that are catelyn and jon, the bran-robert alliance, the arya-sansa-alliance, and ned, who is still in jail and watching ice hockey on his phone under the table. that is when catelyn hears rickon gagging and discovers that he, in the absence of tyrion, the self declared bank manager, has managed to eat all bank notes from the box.
rickon gets his stomach pumped, cersei and tyrion have both been arrested, theon is still stoned, arya, sansa and myrcella have wandered off to go play schleich horses, and jon remains at the table, alone, content, and quietly considering himself the winner.
308 notes · View notes
circethesinner · 1 year
Text
inevitable ⟐ xavier thorpe
pairing: xavier thorpe x reader oneshot (second person pov - she/her pronouns used for reader - occasional use of Y/N)
warning(s) : mild language, best friends to lovers, mutual pining
word count: 6.4k
⭑•⊱✩masterlist✩⊰•⭑
��══ -ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══
summary: you and xavier had been best friends since you were 7, and nothing could change that - that is until you start to develop a new power that makes you question everything you think (or rather, what everyone else thinks)
═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══
Normies usually strayed away from adopting outcast kids. They just didn’t know how to appropriately handle their slightly more complex needs.
Unfortunately for your adopted mothers, the realisation that you, their child, possessed psychic abilities hit at around the 5-year mark when they walked into your nursery and discovered that all of your bears were floating around the room, performing beautiful and elaborate ariel tricks. At first, they jumped to the conclusion that they were being haunted. In some ways, they wished that were the case. Ghosts could be exorcised, but a child who could undo a childproof lock (or five) to get into the cabinet where the candy was kept within mere seconds wasn’t easily fixed with a call to the local priest.
So, as soon as they could, they would ship you off to outcast summer camps and school programs. It's not that they didn’t love you; they just didn’t know how to help you manoeuvre your powers. 
Naturally, you resented this for a lot of your childhood. You couldn’t understand why your adopted siblings got all the time with your moms while you were sent away. Fortunately, as you matured, you grew to understand it and accept that what they were doing was for your benefit as much as theirs. Your moms were doing this to help you learn more about your powers from others who shared them, not punish you for having them. 
Of course, understanding and accepting the decisions didn’t exactly make the feeling of abandonment go away, but it was enough to subdue and push it down for some therapist in 20 years to pull out and deal with.
There were some plus sides to being sent away so often, one of which being the best friend you had made on day one of the very first outcast summer camp you had been sent to when you were 7 years old.
You and Xavier Thorpe got along like a log cabin on fire, which is coincidentally what almost got the pair of you kicked out of that summer camp on your first week. 
Xavier was sent away by his father while he was on tour. Touring the world would be far too stressful for a child; at least, that was the excuse that was given whenever anyone questioned where Xavier was.
Both of you being sent to Nevermore Academy was inevitable. Under the promise of not burning it down, together, you had fixed up the old shed so Xavier could use it as an art studio. You had occupied one of the corners where the two of you had set up a desk where you could work on your writing.
Together, you spent most of your free time tucked away like that, talking about anything and everything as you individually let your artistic creativity fill your individual pages. You would only stop talking when you demanded silence so you could focus, which would last about 10 minutes before the two of you got distracted and started talking about something else.
You were about 6 minutes into one of these silent periods when Xavier slowly stepped back from his canvas and inched towards your corner. Engrossed in your work, you didn’t notice he was in front of you until he spoke up.
“You’ve got some paint on your nose,” He pointed out. You closed your laptop instinctively; you had never liked sharing your writing with anyone, not even Xavier. 
You looked up at him in confusion as you hadn’t touched any of the paint scattered around the studio that day. “Really?” You asked, crossing your eyes to try and look at your nose. “Are you sure? I don’t feel-” You were cut off by Xavier swiping his thumb over your nose and smearing some paint on it.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” He laughed, trying to step back as you made a grab for his arm. You just about caught his sleeve and used it as leverage to pull him down and wipe your nose clean with it.
“You are such an ass!” You groaned, trying to hide the laughter that threatened to bubble up. It was the third time that week he’d gotten you with that trick.
“Speaking of ass,” Xavier grabbed his own chair to sit opposite you at your desk.
“I have a great one?” You grinned, trying to use a tissue to wipe the remaining paint residue from your face. “Thank you, I know!” You froze when you could have sworn you had heard Xavier respond with a quiet ‘true’ but shook it off as your mind playing tricks as you hadn’t actually seen his lips move.
“That is not what I was going to say,” Xavier playfully rolled his eyes. “Speaking of ass, have you done Mr Cooper’s homework?”
“Are you suggesting Mr Cooper is an ass, or that he has a great ass? I mean, I’ve never looked myself, but I respect the-” You yelped out as your leg received a kick from under the desk. You pouted dramatically as he shook his head at you, but you cast your mind back to your chemistry class the day before. You hadn’t been paying much attention as it was the final class on a Friday, and you were just excited to sleep past 6am the following day. “Did he assign homework?”
“I’ll take that as a no; you haven’t done it,” Xavier grabbed his rucksack, which you had been using as a footrest. “Though I already knew that because I picked up your sheet when you left it on the desk.” He pulled the worksheet out and waved it in front of your face.
“This is such bullshit!” You groaned as you plucked it from his grip and scanned the questions. “He never assigns homework!”
“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘Thank you, Xavier! You are such a good friend!’” Xavier teased, doing his best impression of you… His best was awful.
“A good friend would have just done the assignment for me,” You sighed dramatically, putting the sheet down on the desk and pushing it back towards him.
“You mean the way I do half of your other assignments for you?” He pointed out. You had mastered one another's handwriting years ago and often took turns in doing one another’s assignments depending on who was better at the subject or who could bribe the other better.
“Yeah, half of them!” You fired back. “That only makes you half of a good friend, an okay friend, if you will!” Your friendship was built on this sort of playful teasing. 
“Well, as an okay friend, do you want to work on this together after dinner?” He asked, checking the time on his phone. “Which started like 5 minutes ago.”
“Shit!” You exclaimed, shooting up from your chair and shoving your laptop in your bag. “Come on! Get your butt in gear, or all the good food will be gone!” You frantically urged, walking around the desk to tug at Xavier’s arm to get him up and going.
“I’m coming!” He laughed back, getting up intentionally slowly. “Just give me a minute or two to pack up all my stuff. Save me a tray!” With a distressed groan that echoed through the shed, you let go of his arm and walked off, mumbling something along the lines of ‘snooze, you lose’ as you went. Xavier laughed and checked the time again one last time before he stuffed his phone back in his pocket, knowing that dinner wouldn’t actually be ready for another hour and preparing for the hellfire that you would rain down on him when you realised he’d tricked you again.
═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══
Studying sucked. That was something you had acknowledged a long time ago. But studying while you had a bad case of hiccups was so much worse. Especially when the hiccups caused your powers to go absolutely wild; with each hiccup, the pen you were holding flew out of your hand and launched itself to a new corner of the room.
At first, Xavier thought it was an elaborate plot to get him to do your work again as revenge for the dinner incident. However, when your pen launched out of your hand and stabbed the door, he realised you weren’t joking around.
With a grunt of frustration, you got up to retrieve the pen once again, mumbling a ‘sorry’ to the door as you pulled it out from the wood.
“What did that poor door ever do to you to deserve such a vicious stabbing?” Xavier joked, trying to lighten up your tense mood.
“Don’t tell me you forgot about the time it smacked me on the ass on the way out!” You gave the door an accusatory glare. “Which it still hasn’t apologised for.”
“How could I forget?” He groaned, recalling the situation in great detail. He’d talked himself into a corner when he’d tried to defend the door by saying that your ass just got in the way and then couldn’t figure out if it would be more offensive to say that your butt was big or backtrack and say that it wasn’t big at all. In the end, he realised he was losing that conversation no matter what he said and just accepted the consequences. “You know, that is the second conversation today that has ended up on your ass.”
You couldn’t contain the laughter at the phrasing, which caused your hiccups to match the energy, and the pen flew from your hand and into the ceiling.
“Oooookay! I think that’s enough pen time for you, or I’m going to be accused of practising archery in my room again,” Xavier laughed nervously as you, still in fits of giggles, stumbled back over to the spare bed in his room that you had basically taken over as your own. It had your favourite blanket draped over it and some of your pillows from home. 
“Your hiccups are just like you,” Xavier pointed out, jumping up to get the pen out of the ceiling before it caused any structural damage. He was tall, so it didn’t take much to reach it.
“Oh yeah?” You asked, your laughter finally starting to calm down. “How's that?”
“Violent and cute,” He shook his head with a smile, but you just froze, unsure if you had heard him right.
“What was that?” You asked.
“Violent,” He repeated, dropping the pen onto his desk.
“No, no,” You shook your head, questioning your own sanity a little. He didn’t have that teasing tone in his voice he usually did. “The second thing.”
“I only said one thing?” He looked at you in confusion. “Are you feeling okay?” As if on queue, you hiccuped again, and a pillow went flying across the room, narrowly avoiding hitting him in the face.
“Never better,” You mumbled, laying back on the bed. You really could have sworn you had heard him say that the hiccups and you, by extension, were cute. It was quieter than he usually spoke, but you could have sworn it in his voice. 
Even though you joked around a lot, he wouldn’t lie to you about saying or not saying something if you asked. So maybe it had just been in your head? It was a weird thing for your head to make up.
“Are you staying here again tonight?” Xavier asked, snapping you out of your spiralling thoughts. “We can watch a movie and finish off those cookies from last night?”
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” You smiled sheepishly, glancing over at the trash can by his desk to see the empty packet still there, evidence of your crime. “But I ate the rest of those cookies while you were asleep last night.” 
“I know. I woke up and saw you at the end of my bed, hunched over like a little gremlin, shoving them into your mouth three at a time. I thought you were a sleep paralysis demon for a good few seconds. I wanted to record it, but you were like a wild animal, and I didn’t want to startle you by grabbing my phone,” A second pillow flew across the room and hit him in the face that time. Unlike the last, this one was intentionally flung at him. Laughing, he paid no mind to it and reached over the side of his bed and pulled something out from underneath. “I bought two packs and hid one from you- wait, are these open?”
“I may or may not have found those ones while you were in the shower,” You got up and flopped down onto his bed next to him, grabbing both of your pillows to lean on. “I didn’t eat them all, though! I won’t lie; I would have, but you came back before I could.” Rolling his eyes, Xavier reached under his pillow and pulled something else out.
“I bought the third pack,” He admitted, placing them down on the bed in between the two of you. “Hey, your hiccups are gone!” You were about to cheer when another hiccup bubbled up out of nowhere, sending the open pack of cookies flying everywhere.
“Well….” You looked around at the crumbs that scattered the once relatively clean room. “Shit.”
═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══
You woke up groggily to your name being called out in a hushed whisper. When you opened your eyes, you realised it was still nighttime. Yawning, you pushed off the sheets you had been sleeping under and made your way over to Xavier’s bed.
It was a routine you knew all too well by that point. Part of you questioned why you even bothered sleeping in the spare bed in the first place. Almost every time you would sleep over in his room, you would fall asleep in the spare bed only to be woken up by Xavier after a couple of hours, usually because he’d had a nightmare. He didn’t ever want to talk about it, and you didn’t ask. He’d tell you about them when they were really bad, but he preferred to sketch them out.
Xavier was holding the covers up, and you crawled under them, bringing your arms to your chest using his arm as a pillow. He brought the covers down again over you both, and you closed your tired eyes once again.
That was how you usually slept in the same bed. You didn’t usually ‘cuddle’ when you slept like this. Your arms and legs always kept to themselves, with the exclusion of Xavier’s left arm, which you usually used as a pillow. However, this time, Xavier brought his spare arm over you and held you close to him. Instinctively, you moved one of your arms to wrap around him in return. It was a wordless sign to say that you were okay with this. You could have sworn you had heard a hum of contentment from him, but you passed it off as the start of a snore. Xavier always fell asleep fast, and his light snoring was comforting.
You chalked the change in behaviour up to a particularly bad dream and decided that you wouldn’t bring it up in the morning. Instead, you would just enjoy the added warmth for the night.
═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══
“Enid, my sweet, your tag is sticking out,” You jogged ahead to catch up with Enid’s impossibly fast walking. “C’mere!” Enid stopped and took a step back so you could tuck the tag of her sweater back in.
“Thank you!” She cheered and held her arm out. “Walk and talk?” With a laugh, you linked arms with Enid and started walking together. “I’m so glad you’re here because I was supposed to be shopping with Yoko, but then Divina showed up, and I was totally third wheeling, so I left them to it.”
“Are they actually dating yet, or are they both too scared to make the first move?” You asked, causing Enid to laugh. 
“They’re still dodging around the question,” She sighed playfully. “Reminds me of you and Xavier.”
“What?” You stopped, pulling Enid to a halt with you.
“I said they’re still dodging around the question,” She repeated.
“No, no,” You shook your head. “The other thing you said!” 
“That was all I said?” Enid looked ask confused as you felt inside. “Are you feeling okay?” Instead of pushing things and questioning them further, you took a deep breath and shook it off. Enid was a terrible liar. You had probably just mistaken the wind for words or something.
“I’m fine. Everything is fine,” You smiled and shrugged. Together, you continued to walk.
“Did you have a fight with Xavier or something?” Enid asked. Glancing at her from the corner of your eye, you shook your head with a frown, wondering how she’d come to that conclusion. “He was pouting at breakfast today, and you’re here without him.” Realisation dawned on you, and you laughed.
“He wasn’t pouting!- No, actually, that’s a lie. He was pouting a little bit, but only because he felt sorry for himself,” You explained. “I mistook him for my alarm clock this morning and tried to hit the snooze button, which in this case happened to be his mouth, and now his lip is a bit swollen. I’m here to get an apology gift and some numbing gel.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out the numbing gel you had just picked up from the pharmacy and a bar of chocolate. You had technically bought 3 bars of chocolate, but you had already given in and eaten 2 of them, and the last one was on thin ice.
“How did he get into your room?” Enid asked. “If I remember correctly, which I know I do, your windows have enchanted locks on because he kept sneaking into your room last term.” 
You snorted as you remembered how many times Xavier’s tall figure had been caught trying to climb through your window. Or, more accurately, how many times he had gotten stuck trying to climb through your window, and you had to call for help to get him unstuck.
“I was in his room,” You explained with a shrug. “He’s got a spare bed, and I love Yoko, but goddamn, does the girl snore like a chainsaw. Plus, she wakes up at 6am every morning and starts playing her ‘meditation’ music. I usually stay with him on the weekends because it's the only decent sleep I get! I swear I’ve told you all of this before?” 
“The Yoko part you have definitely complained about to me on multiple occasions,” Enid confirmed. “But how am I only just learning that you have weekly sleepovers with your ‘best friend’.” She used her free hand to put air quotes around the last two words.
“Why are you saying it like that?” You asked. “He is my best friend? You know I love you, Wednesday, and Thing, but Xavier and I have been ride or die since we were seven. He earnt the best friend title way before I knew any of you.” 
“Just admit you both like one another,” Enid groaned, causing you to stop walking again, halting her.
“What are you on about?” You interrogated. “We like one another as friends.”
“I said nothing!” Enid protested, her face easily portraying the confusion she felt. You were about to protest again, but Enid spoke before she could. “No, Y/N, I literally said nothing! Whatever you think you heard, it wasn’t me! Maybe your mind is telling you what you want it to hear?”
“Absolutely not! I heard you! It was your voice!” Your phone started ringing before the conversation could progress any further. You didn’t have to check the contact before answering it. You had set a personalised ringtone for him. “Xavi, I’m on my way back now, I swear! I have the gel and a-” You stopped yourself before you mentioned the chocolate. Truthfully, you knew it would never even get back to Nevermore. “I have the gel!” You repeated.
“I will start this movie without you and then spoil all of it,” He threatened playfully. 
“Don’t you dare!” You gasped, but he’d already hung up. When you looked back up at Enid, expecting to continue the conversation you had been having, you recognised the look on her face as her signature ‘I’m telling everyone’ smile. “What?”
“Xavi?” She teased. “Really?” “Drop it, and I’ll split the chocolate with you,” You bargained, pulling the sweet snack out of your pocket again and waving it around. Enid simply responded by holding her arm out so you could carry on walking together and her other hand ready to receive her share of chocolate.
═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══
“This show has gone to shit,” You groaned, sinking down into the sheets in disappointment.
“What?” Xavier pulled his head away from the screen to watch your movements instead. “You used to love it. It was all you’d talk about.”
“I did love it!” You agreed with a sigh. “But then they had to add all that forced romance in, and there are like 7 different love triangles that all interlock- it’s a pyramid scheme of love!”
“A pyramid scheme of love?” He laughed at your phrasing. “God, could you imagine the dm’s you’d get from people you’ve only spoken to once who had joined that?”
“Hey, girlboss! Long time no speak!” You put on your best bubbly voice as you spoke, replicating one of your moms’ friends who had been pulled into 8 different pyramid schemes. “Are you tired of settling down the old-fashioned way with one person? I was too! But insert a name of a multi-level marketing scheme here helped me take control of my love life!”
“Please never do that voice again,” Xavier pleaded through laughter.
“I think I gave myself a headache doing that,” You snorted, bringing your hand up to your head. It was a fruitless endeavour as you pulled them away again immediately. “Urgh, my hands are too warm. C’mere, you always have cold hands.” You grabbed one of his hands and held it up to your forehead, leaning against it.
“I always have cold hands?” Despite his verbal confusion, he didn’t protest about you using him as a cold pack. “Is that… a good thing?” 
“On this occasion, yes,” You smiled contently, closing your eyes. “During the colder months, not so much.”
“If we held hands more, it would warm them up,” You almost didn’t catch his words.
“You wanna hold hands more?” You asked, confused. Admittedly, you already held hands probably more than most friends did, but that was because you had a tendency to get lost in crowds. It was hand-holding, or one of those leash backpacks parents used on their kids, but Xavier shut that down as soon as you jokingly suggested it.
“How did you-?” Xavier pulled his hand away from you with a frown. You pouted at the lack of contact and opened your eyes again. He paused to look at you, searching for an answer in your eyes, but he gave up as soon as he’d started and just shook his head. “Sorry, I didn’t think I said that out loud.”
“We can hold hands more,” You shrugged, smiling at him. “Come on, let's try and get a couple more episodes of this nauseating shitfest in before I have to go back to my own room.”
Xavier perked up at that, leaning over to press play on the next episode.
“I’m calling it now; there will be an unexpected kiss by the end of this episode,” You sighed, leaning your head on Xavier’s shoulder as your eyes settled back on the screen.
“If we’re placing bets, it’ll be between those two,” He added, pointing at the pairing on the screen. You really could have sworn you had heard him say ‘between us?’ just before the actual words left his lips. But you knew for a fact this time that he hadn’t, as the words slightly overlapped, and, as far as you knew, Xavier wasn’t secretly a talented ventriloquist. Though you supposed if you did know that, it wouldn’t be a secret.
Instead, you brushed it off as your tired mind playing tricks on you. Weird tricks for a weird mind.
═══ -ˋˏ *.·:·.⟐.·:·.* ˎˊ- ═══
Four more days.
That’s how long it took you to realise what was going on. Or rather, what you thought was going on. You had to test your theory out, and you knew the perfect person to help.
“Enter,” Wednesday’s voice instructed before you even had a chance to knock on her door. Without questioning how she’d know you were there, you opened the door and closed it behind you once you were in Wednesday’s shared room with Enid.
“I need your help testing a theory,” You pleaded, leaning against the door. “I feel like I’m going crazy- and not the good kind.”
“There’s a bad kind?” Wednesday’s tone barely changed, but you knew her well enough to know she was teasing you in her own way. “I’m intrigued; go on.”
“I think I can read minds,” You confessed with a groan. “Not all the time; I think I can only do it if I’m purposely seeking them out or if the thoughts are… loud.”
“I imagine there are some people who have very loud thoughts,” Wednesday glanced over at Enid’s side of the room.
“Exactly!” You nodded. “And I wanted to test with you because I know I won’t just be reading your body language and facial expressions for clues.” 
“What number am I thinking now?” Wednesday asked, turning her head away from you to look at her desk. Closing your eyes, you tried to push for the connection that you had felt when you accidentally used this possible new power on Ajax just a few minutes beforehand. He had been moping around, and you wanted to know why. It turns out he’d stoned himself again and had missed all of his morning classes, and subsequently got in trouble for being ‘careless’. He was banned from visiting Jericho for two weeks.
When you had sympathised with his struggles and offered to buy him some snacks when you next visited Jericho, he’d looked at you like you had grown a second head which had started speaking Latin. He asked how you had known he was banned. After some confusion and back and forth, you made up some lie about overhearing one of the teachers say something about it and excused yourself.
“37,” You announced confidently to Wednesday as soon as you had felt the connection be made and heard your friend’s monotone voice. It seemed fitting that even her internal monologue was as dry as she was when speaking. “Which US state am I thinking of?”
“Trick question,” You answered proudly. “You’re thinking about Poland, which, unless I missed a memo, isn’t a US state.”
“Very good,” Wednesday didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised that you had gotten it right. “Final one, what line from which of Edgar Allan Poe’s works am I thinking of?” She asked.
“But evil things, in robes of sorrow, assailed the monarch's high estate,” You echoed the exact line out loud. “From The Haunted Palace.”
“I think that settles it,” Wednesday confirmed. You opened your eyes to see her turning around to face you again. “Considering I didn’t say a single word out loud throughout that. Not even the questions.” Wednesday’s mouth was pressed firmly closed, though you could still hear her perfectly clearly.
With a small gasp, you intentionally severed the connection and stopped reading her mind.
“Okay, you can think freely again,” You informed Wednesday. “Thank you for helping me test that.” The door you were leaning on was suddenly pulled open, and you only just managed to catch your footing before you had the chance to fall into Enid.
“Y/N!” Enid instinctively held out her arms, just in case you did still fall. “Why are you here? Are you planning a surprise birthday party for me?”
“Enid, your birthday isn’t for another 9 months,” You shook your head with a smile. “Why would we be planning a surprise party now?”
“Because if you do it too close to the time, I would get suspicious when you were sneaking around making arrangements! But if you start now, by the time I’m thinking of it, the party will have been fully planned!” Enid explained cheerily. “I didn’t realise I’d said the party thing out loud? I hope I didn’t ruin the surprise!”
“You didn’t say it out loud,” Wednesday told her. “Y/N can read minds.”
“That’s why you were being weird with Ajax!” Enid immediately pulled out her phone, but you grabbed it out of her hands. “Hey!”
“Please, please, please don’t say anything to anyone yet!” You pleaded. “I need to talk to people first. I need to talk to the teachers. I don’t want people to think I’m going around snooping in on all of their thoughts. That’s not how it works.”
“How exactly does it work?” Enid asked as you wearily handed her back her phone. You didn’t entirely trust Enid not to at least tell Ajax… and then Yoko… and Divina since she would ‘just hear it anyway’ from Yoko… 
“I mean, I don’t know exactly how it works, but from what has happened so far, I need to be talking to someone and wanting to know what they’re thinking. So when I spoke to Ajax earlier, I wanted to know why he was upset, and I guess I accidentally made that brain connection thing happen without realising what it was,” You explained, trying to properly make sense of it yourself and using actual words to describe what happened. “And sometimes people just have one-off loud thoughts that I hear? Some more than others….” Realisation dawned on Enid when she heard the last sentence.
“Well, I’m sorry if my thoughts are too ‘loud’ for you,” She huffed, using air quotes around the word ‘loud’. “I can’t control the volume of my own mind.”
“I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” You apologised. “But I can’t control what I hear either, at least not yet.”
“Has Xavier thought loudly about how in love with you he is yet?” Enid asked.
“Xavier isn’t in love with me….” You protested but trailed off as you recalled some of the things that you had thought you had heard Xavier say over the past week, only to now realise that some of them may have been thoughts.
“Oops, did I think that one too loudly as well?” Enid smiled slyly, pointing at you. “Wednesday, look at her face. I asked if she’d overheard Xavier thinking about how in love with her he is.”
“I gathered that,” Wednesday mumbled, wanting nothing to do with the whole ‘love’ ordeal.
You remembered the other night when you had talked about there being an unexpected kiss, and you thought he’d said ‘between us?’ over the words he actually did say. It had been a few nights, and you couldn’t remember the tone he’d said- or rather, thought it in. Was he confused? Hopeful? You raked through your brain but couldn’t remember any of the details for the life of you.
And the comment about hand-holding? That was just in a friendly way, friendly hand-holding. You had held hands as friends before, multiple times, you were usually the one to initiate it, and it wasn’t like you were in love with him. You weren’t in love with him at all, right?
Right?
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
You were. You absolutely were. Whether intentionally or not, you had never allowed yourself to think about it, always pushed the thoughts and feelings down before anything could become of them. Always pulled the weeds up, leaving the roots, not realising the roots were just growing and growing under the surface until one day, your whole garden was full of weeds. Except instead of weeds, they were possible unrequited feelings towards your best friend that threatened to ruin everything you had built up over the years you had known one another.
“I need to go,” You excused yourself and pushed past Enid to get to the door, ignoring whatever she was saying in the process. It would have been some sing-song ‘I told you so’, but your mind was too cluttered to pay attention.
You had to find Xavier and talk to him as soon as possible. 
It hadn’t taken long to find him. You knew where he’d be. You always knew where he’d be.
You didn’t knock before letting yourself into the shed; you never had to. It was your shared space.
“Y/N! Are you okay?” Xavier looked at you in concern as you sunk against the door as you closed it behind you. “You look-”
“Xavi, I need you to please be quiet and let me talk at you for a bit because I need to say something now before I mess up the words in my head,” You interrupted him before he could finish. With a small nod, he had agreed. His mouth remained shut while you pulled away from the door and paced back and forth. “I’m just going to cut right to the chase here. I have somehow picked up the power to read minds. I hadn’t done it on purpose until like five minutes ago when Wednesday let me test it on her, and then I came straight to you because you have the right to know because you’re my best friend, and we talk all the time, and sometimes I accidentally hear people’s random thoughts because some thoughts are just really loud and some people have a lot of loud thoughts, like Enid, so I just hear them more, and I’m not saying that you have loud thoughts like that, but I think that maybe sometimes you do, which isn’t a bad thing but I wanted you to be aware so-” You had rambled so much that you hadn’t even noticed that Xavier had crossed the room until he had stopped your frantic pacing and held your face in his hands, squishing your cheeks together in what you assumed was a successful attempt and politely shutting you up.
“Deep breaths and calm down, yeah?” He said it so softly that it worked almost instantly. You hadn’t realised quite how fast your heart had been beating and how heavy your breath had become until he’d stopped and helped slow it down. 
You weren’t sure what exactly had caused it, whether it was the fast-talking where one word flew into the next, or the flood of emotions that had hit you, or the fear of how he’d react to it all in the end, or just a mixture of it all. No matter what it was, Xavier had successfully calmed you down.
“Dare I ask which of my thoughts were particularly… loud?” Xavier asked, his hands still cradling your face.
“There were only a few?” You replied uneasily. You thought back, trying to differentiate between everything. It was hard when she didn’t realise what they were when they happened. “There was the… hand holding? I think that was one… and, uh…. you called me violent and… cute?”
“Could be worse!” Xavier breathed a sigh of relief. “Could have accidentally admitted I’m in love with you.” One look at your face was all it took for him to realise what he’d done. You stood there, wide eyes staring at one another, each almost daring the other to make a move.
Xavier broke first.
“That was a loud thought, wasn’t it?” He asked, already knowing the answer.
“It sure was,” You whispered, your hands coming up to take his own away from your face. Dejection crossed his face for a split second but was erased immediately when you just held his hands instead, cradling them against your chest. You broke eye contact, deciding that looking at the ground made talking easier because you didn’t have to worry about analysing every change in his expression to find the answers.
“Was it…. Truthful? Or did you think it jokingly?” You ask hesitantly, worried about the response it would elicit. Truly, you didn’t know if your heart could take it being a joke.
If the lack of response had worried you, when he pulled his hands away it all but shattered you. However, as soon as the pieces of you had been shattered, it was like Xavier scooped them all up again when he reached for your face and pulled you into a kiss.
It wasn’t a soft and gentle kiss. It was clumsy, frantic, and full of emotion and confusion. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t have to be, because it was with him.
You returned the kiss as soon as your brain allowed itself to switch back on and be present in the moment. Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck, holding him to you as though you were worried he would change his mind and back away again.
It was over all too soon for your liking, the two of you having no choice but to pull away to gasp in the air again. Xavier’s head ducked down, and he nestled his face into your neck. His breath tickled you as he spoke.
“It scares me how truthful it was,” He admitted, planting a small kiss on your collarbone. “I think I’ve known it for a while, but I didn’t want to risk you not feeling the same way.” He pulled away very suddenly to look at your face again. “Wait, you do feel the same way, right?”
You answered him this time by initiating the kiss yourself. This one was slower, the raw emotions you had both been feeling now having settled as a pleasant buzz in the air as the reality of the situation became clear.
You were two idiot best friends who had been in love with one another for longer than either of you could fathom.
You had always known you’d spend the future together, but now, you could spend your future together.
A/N - so I set out to write what I assumed would be a 2k-ish one-shot... then I think I blacked out and woke up foaming at the mouth 6k words later... if there are any accidental pov/tense changes, please let me know! I wrote this in third person, then decided I wanted it to be second person 5k words in so I went back and edited the whole thing which was a pain in the ass and I had to stop myself from rewriting it a third time in first person
feel free to suggest some more one-shots! I can't promise I'll get to them all, but watching Wednesday has filled me with inspiration and motivation to write! *cough cough* I'd be a sucker for a bianca x reader request *cough cough*
and lemme know if you'd like to be added to a taglist for future wednesday one shots <3
3K notes · View notes
jgracie · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
HEY BLONDIE — LEO + DAUGHTER OF POSEIDON
masterlist | rules
♡ dedicated to covey @hopelesslyromanticshark the blueprint for the poseidon girlie x leo trope 😇 lovey > caleo 4eva (even the ship name is cuter!)
❝ daughter of poseidon x leo valdez!!!!! ❞ — anon
in which leo dates a daughter of poseidon
pairing leo valdez x poseidon!reader
warnings percys a bit of an ass in this lowk sorry guys (he didn't mean it i promise!!!), they have tech, andddd i lowk hate this but i haven’t posted in three days so 🙁 maybe i’ll rewrite it someday!!
on the radio . . . hey blondie (dominic fike)
an i’ve been DYING for someone to request this combo i love it sm …. also OGs remember when my bio was hey blondie 🫡 reader isn’t blonde dw (i’m not even blonde myself) !! also reader is a year younger than percy (making her the same age as leo)
Leo didn’t know Percy had a sister. Maybe he was living under a rock (he was - Leo spent the majority of his days at Bunker 9), but he just hadn’t considered the possibility of it, with Percy being a child of the big three and all
If Leo had known of your existence sooner, he would’ve burnt down Bunker 9 himself and spent the rest of his days glued to your side. He had met many people, but none as perfect and charming as you
You see, the boy was simply going to pass by Cabin 3 to show Percy this new gadget he’d made for him and see if he wanted to hang out sometime, since Leo hadn’t seen Percy in a while, when he met you - Y/N, Percy’s younger half-sister
“Hello, may I help you?” You asked, opening the front door of your cabin and being met with a boy with curly brown hair and big brown eyes. Immediately, you felt the heat radiating off of him increase and all of a sudden his brown curls were on fire
As a child of Poseidon, naturally, you’ve never been fond of fire, so this freaked you out. Knowing the water fountain was right behind you, you controlled the water with your hands and shot it at Leo, putting out the fire and drenching him in the process
Leo didn’t care, though. You could drown him for Hephaestus’ sake and he’d still come crawling back - okay, maybe that was a little much. He took in your worried expression and a wave of guilt washed over him as he realised how afraid you were
“I’m sorry, I have a hard time controlling my fire powers sometimes… Where’s Percy?” He asked, not even bothering to question your Godly heritage. You were very clearly a daughter of Poseidon
After that, things calmed down between you two. You let him in and although you were wary of Leo (and sat as far away from him as possible without being labelled as rude), patiently listened as he explained why he was looking for your brother
He then showed you the gadget he made and when Leo saw the way your eyes lit up at its mechanisms, he knew his life would no longer be complete if you weren’t in it
You gushed over the thing, pressing the buttons over and over again (which Leo didn’t have the heart to tell you would wear them down) and showering him in compliments - something that has never happened to Leo before
A grin made its way onto his lips. Sure, people have praised his creations before, but none of them did it the way you did, nearly bursting with excitement as you tried to handle it with utmost care
Part of Leo wished Percy would never come back to cabin 3 ever again, but speak (in this case, think) of the devil and he shall appear. That was his unfortunate cue to leave
He quickly showed Percy how to handle the device and was about to leave when you stopped him. Leo almost couldn’t believe his ears and almost leaped for joy when he heard you ask if you could pass by his cabin sometime, since you really wanted to see more of his stuff
That was the beginning of the most iconic friendship in Camp Half-Blood history
You quickly discovered you had a lot in common and so, you became attached at the hip. It was so bad that whenever someone was asked where one of you were, they’d give the location of the other since they knew there was an incredibly high possibility of you being together
Leo taught you how to use a screwdriver and weld and I can’t think of a third thing people who make machines do but you get the gist! And in return, you taught him how to swim
His ability to swim (or lack thereof) was something which was brought up your very first time hanging out together at bunker nine. After many attempts, you finally successfully hammered a nail into a piece of metal (fyi I’m a daughter of Demeter I know absolutely nothing about this subject) and in your enthusiastic state insisted you go to the beach together
At your suggestion, Leo got awfully quiet and began shyly playing with a stray piece of metal. Your eyebrows furrowed, confused for a second about the shift in his behaviour, when it finally clicked
“Oh my Gods, Leo, do you not know how to swim?” You asked, hesitant - you didn’t want to embarrass the poor guy. He looked up at you and nodded, pouting at the way your lips wobbled as you tried not to giggle. You weren’t laughing at him, of course, you just thought it was really cute
Grabbing him by the arm, you began to drag him to your cabin and said, “c’mon, I’ll teach you! It’ll be like me repaying you for teaching me how to do all the fancy things you do with metal!”
You guys started going to the beach more often after that. At first, you were just teaching Leo how to be in a body of water and not drown, but once he got the hang of it you started having swimming competitions and introducing him to all your fish friends!
They’re always telling you to hurry up and confess because it's so obvious that you like Leo and you keeping it to yourself isn’t doing you any favours but you can’t. Why? Because you don’t think Leo likes you back
Meanwhile Leo’s sitting on the sand next to you admiring the way you seem to gain life by being near a body of water, having to push his fire powers down whenever you’d pull him closer to you, the only thing filling the space between you being the water of the ocean
You are quite literally Mr and Mrs Oblivious. Everyone can tell you like each other but yourselves
It’s actually really funny because you run in the same circles so you tend to complain to the same people about how the other can’t tell you like them and they’re just sitting there trying SO hard not to facepalm
Most of the time you two go to Annabeth, simply because she’s the only one you believe can keep a secret as big as your crushes. Unfortunately for you she and Percy come as a packaged duo, which means Percy’s aware
She didn’t mean to tell him but one time after a heated discussion with you where you analysed Leo’s every move it was still fresh on her mind and she let it slip
Ever since then, Percy’s been eyeing Leo, who’s definitely noticed the behaviour switch. It’s not like Percy had anything against you dating - you were only a year younger than him, after all, and you never tried to stop him and Annabeth from dating - but he couldn’t help but feel a little protective
An extra year of life still made you his baby sister! He’d insist to Annabeth that it doesn’t bother him and Leo is a good guy and his friend so he’s happy that the two of you reciprocate each other’s feelings then turn and give the poor boy a glare so terrifying it’d make a hellhound cower in fear
While all of this is happening, Leo’s freaking out. He’s absolutely losing his mind because all of a sudden Percy no longer likes him which means he’s probably noticed he likes you and disapproves of your potential relationship
All these thoughts cause him to spiral and eventually distance himself from you. It was just occasionally rejecting plans but then it turned into him somehow always being busy, and it broke your heart
Percy, being the kind and loving brother he is, asked you what was wrong on one of those days and you had to fight the urge to burst into tears as you told him about how you thought you did something to hurt Leo
You see, Leo was your first real friend at camp. Sure, you had other friends, but they were all just casual acquaintances you’d talk to whenever you happened to see them. Leo was your first best friend, which meant a lot
In that moment, Percy knew what he had to do
“Hey, why’re you avoiding Y/N?” Percy asked, barging into bunker nine, his arms crossed as he stared down Leo, who was busy making something (as usual)
Leo, who hadn’t been fully listening, looked up to find none other than Percy Jackson standing in front of him, “what?” He asked, his eyes widening
“I said, why are you avoiding my sister?” He repeated, the scowl on his face deepening. Percy was usually a pretty nice guy, but that could change really quickly if anyone ever even thinks of hurting his loved ones (loyalty is his fatal flaw after all)
Putting his tools down, Leo stood up, suddenly defensive. Why was Percy putting the blame on him? He was the reason Leo decided to talk to you less in the first place. Doing that to you really hurt Leo, but he wasn’t going to let himself get close to you just to end up heartbroken and without two friends in the end
“Do you hate her all of a sudden, is that it? Because if that’s the case, you should at least be kind enough to voice those thoughts so she can find new friends–”
“Dude, I love Y/N. Who put that in your head?” Leo interrupted, “I’m avoiding Y/N because I’ve seen the way you look at me, Percy. I get it, you’re not happy that I like her, and I don’t want to bother you or put a strain in your relationship, so I’ve distanced myself.”
He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He avoided you because he loved you, because he didn’t want there to be any trouble between you and your brother because of him, and yet somehow here he was being accused of hating you?
You’re the first person Leo truly felt love for ever since his own mother. How could he hate you
“Tell her,” Percy said. He felt immensely guilty as the realisation that he was the reason why you’d almost lost your crush and best friend hit him. He never meant for it to go this far, and honestly, the glances weren’t even purposeful - he just couldn’t help it
“She likes you too, literally everyone at camp knows it, you’ll be fine. And Leo, I’m really sorry I made you feel that way. I didn’t mean to, honestly, I just really care about Y/N and don’t want her to get hurt. But I know you won’t hurt her, so… I approve.”
When I say Leo ran so fast to your cabin that he left a whole trail of fire behind him, I’m not exaggerating. He passed by Flowers and Vines (Demeter + Dionysus kid flower shop/fruits market iykyk) and set their crops on fire, quickly making himself their mortal enemy
He couldn’t care less though. You liked him back! In a few moments, he’d confess and you’d agree to date him and you’d finally be his
And confess he did <3 you were a little mad at Percy at first for unintentionally separating the two of you but after three days’ worth of grovelling you were fine
You couldn’t be too mad, after all, since you now had your fireboy
(The crowd cheers!!!! After 5 pages of backstory you get actual dating hcs)
Okay so I just want to start by saying that Leo is literally like a raven or a cat or whatever animal it is. He’s constantly finding the randomest trinkets and just giving them you for no reason
He goes to the beach a lot on his own whenever he misses you because the salty air smells just like the crook of your neck and often comes back with a bunch of seashells, randomly shaped rocks and one time an actually alive sand dollar
You spent so long teaching him how to spot one that’s alive and one that’s dead so when he saw a sand dollar he got really excited at the idea of you being proud of him remembering the difference that he’d forgotten it
His favourite things are the seashells though. Why? Well, because he can turn them into cute jewellery for you, duh!
It started off as a silly little idea. He found a cute seashell and thought ‘what if I strung a piece of thread through this and made it a necklace for my beautiful hot gorgeous pretty siren mermaid cutie pie Y/N?’
He ended up doing it and you loved it so much he decided he’d make you a whole collection of seashell jewellery
The second time around, he made an actual chain for the necklace because you’re deserving of more than some lousy thread!!!
Then he began making bracelets and rings and earrings and all sorts of other things for you. Somehow, despite making so many of them, Leo managed to make them all unique in their own way. Your favourite, however, was the seashell locket he made you for one of your anniversaries
Inside of the locket is a picture you took together on the beach. It was from back when you were just friends, but you looked so gorgeous in it Leo couldn’t help but choose it for the necklace
Also, you guys are LITERALLY fireboy and watergirl
You’d had an epiphany one day whilst lying your head on his chest and the gasp you let out had Leo worried you were dying for a second
When you told him this, Leo was confused. Being in the foster care system at a young age then sent to wilderness school then doing demigod things left very little room for him to discover modern things other people his age liked
You immediately took him to the little computer you shared with Percy and opened up fireboy and watergirl (the OG game of course, not one of the newer editions) and taught him how to play
Honestly, Leo’s really bad at it. Like at first you thought he just needed to get the hang of it but then you reached the one year anniversary of when you first showed him FB & WG and he was STILL awful at it (also yes you know what day that is. You and Leo have anniversaries for everything)
“Leo!” You exclaimed, unable to watch as the try again prompt popped up on the screen. After about 50 times doing this level (which you had completed on your own before just fine), you’d finally gotten to the last hurdle when, of course, fireboy had to fall into the green slime
Leo pouted, once again prepared to fight his case, “Fireboy’s an idiot! It’s not my fault you get to control the smarter one out of the two!”
“Nuh, uh! Fireboy’s so much easier to control! He has the arrows, watergirl has WASD, which is way harder!”
“Fine, you control him, since he’s so easy to use!”
“But I’m Watergirl! I can’t have you killing me too!”
You’d have this conversation almost every single time you played the game. It got so bad one time Percy had to block the fireboy and watergirl website from the computer
Which was stupid because Leo’s literally a son of Hephaestus so all he had to do was touch the computer and it quickly became unbanned!
Also I think all children of Poseidon have an obscene amount of fish/sea animal merch. Specifically plushies
Leo stayed the night at your cabin once thinking ‘oh my Gods I’m gonna be sleeping with Y/N for the first time WTF WTF WTF!!!’ only to end up sleeping with Chelsea the starfish instead
He teased you a little at first but you’d refused to talk to him after that so he accepted them into the L/N-Valdez family (despite them hogging the bed 😒)
Now, he also defends the plushies like his life depends on it. If someone even DARES to utter a word against Haley the seahorse its ON SIGHT fr
He also keeps a mental note of all the names of your plushies to see if he can figure out a theme with the kinds of names you like for when you name your future baby but that’s a story for another day!
178 notes · View notes
Text
All I Wanted - Part 1
summary: when you are kidnapped discovered by TF141 they can't help but fall in love.
pairing: 141 x fem!teen!reader (platonic)
warnings: mentions of child abuse, drugs, canon typical violence
Part 2
A/N: this is like my first fanfic in a while, and first on tumblr (yay!) any tips and tricks would be so helpful!
this also plans to be a series but posting might and will be inconsistent, thank you in advance!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You always had a difficult life. Being abused by your parents up until you ran away at 13. After you ran away, you got in with the wrong type of people, promises of hope and money, food and validation was all they needed to say to get you hooked in their business of organised crime. Some good came out of it however, they gave you a home and how to defend yourself. They taught you how to shoot a gun and the best place to make someone bleed. They taught you nothing else mattered except them, they became your new family.
You were 15 when you were tasked with transporting a couple crates of weaponry and drugs. The organisation you joined knew you well enough and practically raised you to be the strongest you were. So one cargo ship to Amsterdam later, you find yourself in a rotting, metal warehouse, wearing pink apparel, pink puffy skirt and a white hello-kitty shirt. A baby pink cardigan is draped over your shoulders and over-the-knee white knitted socks. A chrome covered knife strapped to your thigh.
“Zus, how much for it all?” he stood across from you, a cigarette lit between his lips taking a long drag as you assessed his question. His black, slicked back hair elongated his face and the three piece suit almost made this deal professional.
“How much are you offering?” was all you said as a small smile graced your lips, ‘the higher the offer, the better’ you remember being told before you left. They weren’t the best weapons but they were definitely worth at least a couple K.
“25”
a grimace, “80”
a growl, “40”
a hum, “55”
“65. Final offer,” his teeth were bared, almost like he was sweating already.
A sinister, sweet smile stretched across your face, “Wonderful, and how are you wanting to transfer that?” out of seemingly nowhere you pulled out a notepad and pen, writing down the bank details before you gave him a pointed look, “You have one week to transfer the money, or I will have your head.”
His face paled, almost embarrassingly so. For how innocent you appeared to be, you knew how to handle yourself in these situations. You turned to walk away, the sound of baby pink mary janes clacking against the concrete as you bounced towards the rusted metal doors, sliding them open as you looked back at the man one final time, “It was a pleasure doing business with you,” and leaving.
You were good at your job. It was easy, for the most part. Gather intel, pass forward that intel. Transfer somewhat illegal items from one holder to another. So it comes to you as a bit of a surprise when you exit through the dusty doors when a bullet wizzes past your face, luckily just missing you. Swiftly pulling out the hand-gun out your waistband and shooting in their direction. You wish you had your sniper, but it was left in the hotel room you managed to stay at.
As you shot in the direction of the fire, you failed to notice someone sneaking out behind you, kicking your knees in. Dirt caked your socks as the grip on your gun became loose. Acting as quick as possible, you flipped onto your back, retching the knife from its holster. Before you could act, black invaded your vision as you felt pain shoot from your head. Shit.
-
White light invaded your vision, a grumbled swear leaving your dry lips at the pounding in your head. "Jesus Christ," your wrists hurt, rubbed raw by the shitty metal handcuffs they strapped you in, "Whose bedroom did you get these out of? Couldn't even afford good quality cuffs?" fell out of your mouth before you could think to stop it. No one reacted.
It was a van, you could tell that much. The interior white with small wooden benches lining it. Two men sat on either side of you whilst the other two sat across. From what you could make out, another pair sat at the front, driving to this unknown destination.
Maybe you should have been more scared. More begging for them not to hurt you. Four big, burly military men could definitely kill you much easier than you kill them.
They studied you like you studied them. The one on your left was most likely the oldest, a fisherman's hat upon his head and mutton chops-moustache combo was the dead give away. He had his eyes closed and arms crossed across his chest, legs spread wide.
You couldn't make out the one on your right quite as well. A black balaclava with painted white skeletal teeth paired well with the upper half of the skull mask he wore. He seemed to be in a similar position as grandpa, although he had an ankle resting on his knee instead, head tilted back against the cool metal of the van.
The two across from you seemed younger. One had a darker complexion, his eyebrows furrowed in a thoughtful expression. He was smaller than the rest but no doubtfully as strong.
Lastly was the man with a mohawk. His eyes bore into you the most, not so angry and more trying to figure out who you were. Breaking you apart and putting you back together with his eyes. Childishly, you stuck your tongue out at him. His face morphed into one of slight surprise before rolling his eyes and looking towards the front.
It was quiet. The hum from the light ticking like a clock in your ear. Trying to gauge where you were and how much time had passed, your foot started tapping on the floor.
"Stop," A gruff voice said suddenly making you jump before mumbling a sorry at the skull-faced man. It was quiet again. It numbed your senses, sending shivers down your spine. Gravel sounded under the tires before voices outside sounded, signalling your arrival.
The doors pulled open, sunlight shining in. As mohawk and shorty left, skully pulled your arm to tug you along out with him, a short yelp escaping past your lips at the action.
You tripped over your feet, pins and needles shooting up your legs from sitting for so long. "Can you be gentle?" you spoke as you found your footing, "Please?" it was tacked on at the end for at least the tiniest bit of sympathy.
Skully looked down at you as he continued to drag you towards what you hoped was a five-star hotel with bed and breakfast. At least your death would be a quick one.
The halls blurred together until you were sitting in a leather chair in someone's office, back to the door, although you felt the looming presence of the men behind you. Mutters were heard outside before the door clicked opened, footsteps and a click again.
Gramps stood in front of you, leaning over the dark stained oak table. He had a file in his hand, putting it on the desk before sliding it over to you. "What do you know of El Sin Nombre?" it wasn't as much of a question than you'd like but an order for information.
Your mouth was so dry it felt like you swallowed cotton. As much as you wished to answer him, you look at him with furrowed brows and a confused expression. It took you a couple minutes before words formed in your throat, "Who?".
He didn't enjoy that answer. One of his hands slapping on the desk as he seethed, repeating the question again as if that would change your answer.
"I don't know who that is! I can't help you," you felt that burning sensation under your eyes as you desperately tried to convey your emotions. Tears meant weakness, and that's the one thing you didn't want to show to your captors right now.
Pairs of eyes hammered into your head. You felt like a child again, staring down at your toes being told off for not doing the dishes or not being quick enough to grab a beer. You braced for the hits, the punches to your ribs as you made promises that fell on the deaf ears of your mother and father.
"Price," A voice sounded behind you, soft and comforting. An accent coated the words that flowed through the air you didn't pick up on. The more time passed the more your eyes stung, tears slipping past your defences. Shoulders shaking as you try to curl into yourself, strings of "I don't know" and "I'm sorry" being nothing more than mumbles.
The room grew cold and quiet as you sobbed. Footsteps couldn't be heard over your own cries, so when an arm wrapped around your shoulders, you jolted. Expecting this is where you get hit. Bracing for the impact and sting they usually brought with them.
Instead, the arm pulled you into their chest, hugging you close and stroking your hair, along with shushing you softly. It only made you sob harder. When was the last time someone hugged you like this? Sure, you got the occasional pat on the back for a job well done, but never an embrace like this.
Time passed through your fingers like sand, not knowing how long you sat there for before you calmed down. The arms didn't pull away until you did, cringing at the wet patch you left on the man's shirt. Speaking of, you looked up to see mohawk looking down at you, eyes soft and an equally soft smile. "Y're alright now lass?" his accent leaked into the words, a curt nod allowing him to pull away and stand up again.
A heavy sigh sounded above you as you dragged your eyes up to meet who you presumed was this 'Price' figure. "What’s your name?"
Gears turned over the question in your head, thinking of an answer. Technically, you lost your name when you left home, gaining a couple new names at the gang.
Your silence was taken for an answer. "What are you doing in Amsterdam?" this you could answer.
"A business exchange. I'm just the messenger, I don't know any of the customers - I promise! - I just get the money and dip. I promise I can't help you-" you were hyperventilating at this point.
"It's alright sweetheart, deep breaths, calm down for me, yeah?" Price's voice was gentle now, seemingly not wanting the same thing to happen.
"Can you tell us where you're from? Who you work for?" He asked once he saw you calm down.
"Uhm- I'm from England. And I don't really work for them but I'm a doberman. They're some organisation that took me in," you weren't really interested in going into full depths of your life with these complete strangers.
Although, you felt the gazes lift off you and onto Price, his own eyes looking back at his men, a million silent conversations happening right above your head. Price inhaled sharply before he asked his last question, "How old are?"
"15." The air knocked out of his lungs.
2K notes · View notes
zenkindoflove · 20 days
Text
"I want what Elain wants and she wants Azriel"
Is a claim I often see e/riels use to claim why they are "pro Elain" and implying that if you ship Elain with her mate because "she clearly doesn't want him" then you are anti Elain.
So yeah this whole post is why that's bullshit.
First let's get some things straight that we all can agree are facts.
1. Elain had a crush on Azriel. It's clear by their looks and touches and her showing body language that she wanted to kiss him in the bonus chapter. It's unclear whether that crush survived post her tears over his rejection and giving the necklace back as they had no canonical interactions post solstice.
2. Elain does not want to address the bond right now and avoids Lucien. Her feelings about Lucien specifically and what she thinks about the bond are unclear.
Now that we got that out of the way, the assertion that you are the most pro Elain because you ship her with Azriel is quite a stretch. I'm sure you like Elain, as do I, but you do not hold some moral high ground because of who you ship her with.
First, let's discuss the idea that you have to support who Elain wants. People can want all kinds of people who are not right for them for a lot of reasons. It's a common experience for many to want the wrong guy. To have a crush and think they're the best and it'll all work out only to have your heart smashed by the cruel reality that they were wrong for you or didn't want you the way you did. It's also common to hate your friends' boyfriends and husbands because they're assholes despite how much they "want" them.
People's feelings change. Feelings are fickle.
In SJM's canonical world, mating bonds are not.
It makes sense that Elain, after going through her horrible rejection by the man she actually wanted and loved, Graysen, would not be ready to face what having a mate means. I'm sure it felt like infidelity to her, especially if she does desire and feel a pull towards Lucien like every other female with a mating bond has in this series. Her avoidance of Lucien can mean a lot of things, including that she wants him even if she mentally isn't ready or feels she shouldn't.
It also makes sense that she would seek out and find herself in a rebound crush with someone who is in her proximity and is low risk. Azriel doesn't come with the pressure of being her fated soulmate. He's just a dude. A dude who is pretty and paid some attention to her.
So yeah, I get why she wants him. Doesn't mean I think he is right for her.
Why isn't he right for her? To make a long post short, Azriel often undermines Elain. He diminishes her need for help when she's clearly depressed (ACOWAR), and he speaks for her and directly contradicts her wants (ACOSF, scrying). He is entitled to her without merit (the third sister line, bonus). He ignores her wishes to avoid violence and wants to kill people who are important to her (wanting Graysen killed, saying he'd kill Lucien in a blood duel - we know canonically if a mate dies it is like losing half of your soul). He thinks very little of her past his lustful fantasies (bonus chapter) and even to the point of projecting his own self-hatred when he looks at her skin (bonus chapter). Elain is symbolic for him of the thing he covets most (a mate), and his crush on her is a manifestation of his psychological need to pursue unavailable females because of his self worth (friends who will never romantically love him or a female with a mating bond). Basically they are a recipe for a toxic relationship full of avoiding real personal healing.
So yeah sorry, even if Elain wants to kiss him I'm not shipping her with someone like that just because she "wants" it. I would rather see her have a story where she discovers who she is and what being Fae means to her, which means directly addressing not only her powers (hello let her scry) but also addressing her mating bond head on by getting to know the male that she will always have a pull to, no matter if she rejects the bond or not. Elain is a fictional character with a narrative arc. Her wants now will not always stay static.
For me, as someone pro Elain, I want her to give herself a chance at a forever kind of love, one with a soul to soul connection and an eternal devotion. I want her to experience that unconditional love she so desperately craves. I don't want to read her choosing just some regular dude who will probably drop her the second his mating bond snaps anyways. She deserves a mate. Even if she doesn't know or understand that yet.
And quite frankly, I think once Elain does learn not only who Lucien is but the way he thinks about her and how devoted he is to her and only her, she will want him soon enough. I don't ship for characters' frivolous crushes in the now. I ship for their potential with the right person. The person who will see them starving and depressed and worry about their well being rather than what their powers can provide them. Who will hear their vision and cross an ocean because they believe in it. Who will fight across a battlefield just to make sure they're okay. Who will even push down their own needs and wants to give them space because that's what they want right now.
You know what that means though. If you're pro-Elain for wanting what Elain wants, then Lucien is the most pro-Elain person there is. And why wouldn't he be? He is her mate after all, and he will do anything for her.
So yeah, that's who I want for Elain, and I think that makes me pretty pro-Elain too.
127 notes · View notes
maxrowave · 5 months
Text
GENDERBEND RAHHHHHH
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
i love drarry and i love women so put it together and you get this, i present to you: Harphine
Harry is consequently now named Harley; Draco is also now named Delphine (Full name Delphinus Lucius Malfoy, however asks to be referred to as Delphine because it's pretty). I decided to keep everyone else the same because the world centres around them. Delphine is the ultimate coquette girl, lana del rey wishes she could be as coquette as her. Mega popular girl and a trendsetter, one day she wears a headband to school, the next day, half the female students are as well. Extreme closet gay, internalised homophobia...
Harley on the other hand is a major tom-boy, as a toddler and young childhood she probably had a buzzcut or short hair because her hair was too much maintenance for the Dursley's. She also wore Dudley's old clothes so she was mistaken for a boy for most of her young life, she only began to grow it out when she started attending Hogwarts and got a major glow-up in third year. and now the multitude of headcanons: 1) Delphine resorts to flirting to get her way with male students, however it is only by accident does Harley discover Delphine is prudent when she flirts with her. Delphine immediately goes red, sputtering incoherently:
"MY FATHER WILL HEAR OF THIS!!!" "good, I'm glad he knows about me so it won’t be as awkward to meet him when I'm over for dinner"
Harley uses this to her advantage and begins to spread rumours about Delphine to finally get back at her for all these years 'Pure Blood Delphine Malfoy, sole heir, is a homosexual?!' It gets out of hand and Delphine's rep gets ruined or somethin
2) Harley is a bit of an artist, she likes drawing/doodling. One day she's sitting in potions class, not listening because fuck that, idly drawing on her parchment without much thought, only for her to realise that hey... this kind of looks like Delphine, and then realising she's just been drawing Delphine in various sitting poses for the past half an hour.
3) Even though Harley really hates Delphine, she has to admit, she's really fucking gorgeous, and in an odd way Harley kind of admires how put together she is. Harley does try to imitate her makeup one day because she wants to know how it feels to be pretty/put together, it turns out shite, Ron laughs at her, Harley beats him up; Delphine also laughs at her. But when they do become good friends, like fifth year or so, Delphine does do her makeup (imagine that one img of the girl on top of the other doing her eyeshadow, that's them).
3.5) Slight extension from the previous one, I mentioned this on my xwitter awhile back -- Harry purposely messes up his tie so Draco can fix it, because Draco's love language is to clean up people, i.e brushing lint off their shoulder, adjusting their collar, kind of like a cat. In this genderbent au, Harley messes up her lipstick everytime so Delphine can redo it.
4) Delphine is a massive closeted lesbian, and is pining for Harley in her own odd way. When they begin to get close, Delphine instictually reels back, because she's used to playing hard-to-get with other guys as a flirting method. She doesn't quite register that it doesn't work with girls, which leaves Harley wondering what she did wrong and why Delphine isn't as interested.
5) When they do finally get into a relationship, most likely like sixth/seventh year, it's very low-key and secretive because Delphine still has internalised homophobia/closeted. But Lucius ends up arranging her marriage because she's an only child and a female to the Malfoy name. What happens next is idk
6) Lucius either dotes on Delphine like a child who is in constant need of being helped and cannot be independent, or never speaks to her ever because he's disappointed he has a daughter.
OKAY THATS IT, I HAVE MORE HEADCANONS THAT I WILL POUR IF ENOUGH ASK FOR IT LOL... i wanna see if I can make Harphine their genderbend ship name, it's cute
also boobs bc im gay and so are they
288 notes · View notes
latanyalove · 6 months
Text
Happy Birthday Zoro
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 
Roronoa Zoro is known to be a dedicated and focused swordsman. His commitment to training is unwavering, and as a result, he has never celebrated his birthday before. In fact, he has always been too occupied with his rigorous training regimen to even consider such festivities.
However, this year was different. It marked Zoro's first year with the crew, and his fellow Straw Hat Pirates were determined to make it a memorable one.
The crew recognized Zoro's dedication and admired his strength. They understood that he rarely took time off from his training, and they wanted to show him how much they valued his presence. So, they secretly planned a surprise birthday party for him on the ship.
It took a great deal of effort to keep the preparations hidden from Zoro. Luffy, the captain of the crew, and Chopper made sure to distract Zoro with various training exercises and missions. Meanwhile, Usopp and Franky worked tirelessly to decorate the ship with colorful streamers and balloons.
Nami and Robin gathered ingredients to bake a special birthday cake, while Sanji took charge of preparing a delicious feast.
As the day of Zoro's birthday approached, the entire crew grew more excited. They couldn't wait to see the look of surprise on Zoro's face when he discovered what they had planned.
Finally, the day arrived, and the crew gathered on the ship, eagerly awaiting Zoro's return from his endless 'walk'.
When Zoro stepped onto the ship, he was greeted with shouts of "Happy Birthday!" and a chorus of laughter. He was taken aback, not expecting such a grand gesture from his crewmates. Zoro's eyes widened as he took in the decorations and the smiling faces of his friends. It was a moment of pure joy and warmth.
As the festivities continued, Zoro couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the love and care shown by his crew. He realized how lucky he was to have found such a supportive and close-knit group of friends. They had taken the time and effort to celebrate his birthday, something he had never experienced before.
Towards the end of the celebration, Luffy approached Zoro with a mischievous grin. "Zoro," he said, "we have one last surprise for you." Zoro looked puzzled as Luffy gestured towards a large box that had been placed at the center of the deck.
With a curious expression, Zoro approached the box and hesitantly opened it.
Inside the box was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. His girlfriend was standing there wearing a long, flowing dress, her hair tied in a bow. She smiled at him and his heart raced.
It had been two months since Zoro had seen his girlfriend. She had been forced to stay in her hometown and protect it from danger, leaving Zoro feeling helpless and heartbroken. He had resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't be able to see her for a long time, if ever.
He was filled with an immense wave of happiness that he had never felt before.
"Hello Zoro," You said with a hint of a seductive tone, "I'm hoping that I'm worthy of being the world's future greatest swordsman's present."
"A swordsman like me always deserves nothing but the best," Zoro smirked and replied, "You are worthy of me."
"Stop! Get a room!" Nami and Usopp said together, laughing.
With a smirk, Zoro swept her up into his arms and bridal carried her away, much to the amusement of the rest of the crew. "We'll do just that," Zoro remarked as he carried her away, a lighthearted smile on his face.
As they made their way to Zoro's room, the crew erupted in cheers and applause, wishing them both a happy birthday once again.
Zoro looked into her eyes and said, "You are the most beautiful present I could have ever asked for." She blushed and replied, "I'm glad that I'm able to make you happy." He leaned in closer and said, "You make me happier than I could ever imagine."
"Well, that's a relief," she said playfully, "If I'm the present, then that means you have to keep me forever."
Zoro smiled and said, "Forever sounds like a great idea to me."
She leaned in and their lips met, sending a spark of electricity through his body. His heart raced as he felt the warmth of her kiss and the softness of her lips. He held her close, wanting the moment to last forever. She ran her hands through his hair, deepening the kiss and sending a wave of desire through his body.
Oh how much he missed her.
He felt like he was soaring, floating in the air. He felt a love that he had never felt before, a love that was so strong that it could never be broken. They broke apart, both breathless and full of love.
He looked into her eyes and saw a reflection of the passion that he felt. They smiled at each other and he knew that he never wanted to let her go.
"Does that mean you'll be coming back?" He asked with hesitation.
She smiled softly and said, "I'll be wherever you are, for as long as you want me."
"You don't have to worry about that," Zoro replied with a smirk, "I want you with me always."
"Still as cocky as always Roanoro?" She asked with a smirk.
"Let me show you," Zoro replied with a mischievous glint in his eye.
The next morning, Zoro awoke to find that his beloved was unable to move from the bed, too exhausted from the night's activities to even stand. He smiled as he looked down on her, knowing that she was his forever.
He leaned in and said in a low, husky voice, "You know, it's dangerous to be this beautiful. I'm not sure I can keep myself away from you."
She smiled and replied, "I'm not sure I want you to."
He brushed a strand of hair away from her face and said, "I'm glad I can make you happy." She tilted her head and looked into his eyes, her own eyes full of love and longing.
She whispered, "You make me more than happy. You make me feel alive. I love you, Roronoa."
Zoro looked at her with a twinkle in his eye and said, "I love you too, my love. Now that you're officially mine, I'm never letting you go."
He leaned in and gave her a passionate kiss, making her cheeks flush with pleasure.
He then said with a smirk, "But I don't mind if you want to stay here a little longer."
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ 
The Scene is Posted now!
219 notes · View notes
glassartpeasants · 1 month
Text
Had a fic idea but decided it wasn't gonna be long enough for a full fic so here's the slice of idea my brain had. Also written on my phone at work so-
Eustass Kid x GN!Reader
Warnings: angst, cheating but literally one line mentioning it.
~~~
Tears slipped down your cheeks as you stare out to sea, wishing you were sitting on a ship instead of an old rickety dock. The salty breeze blowing against your face lightly. In your hands were open letters and letters waiting to be sent. Each one dripping with love and devotion. Words of encouragement scribed on the pages along with a red origami heart waiting to be discovered.
All that for the love of a man who you realize you'll never see again. Even though he promised he'd come back for you. That all you had to do was give him a year and he'd be back to take you with him. To bring you to sail the seas with him as he paved his way to becoming king of the Pirates.
All you had to do was wait a year. And wait you did.
Even though you couldn't tell him how much you loved him in person, you sent him letters every week. Each and everyone expressing you love for him, about your week, congratulating him on getting in the paper and giving him the little red origami heart. Or when you didn't have the red paper, you'd gently pick a red tulip from your garden and press it before sending it put in an envelope with the letter. Watching the carrier bird fly away made your heart jump as you couldn't wait for the letter that would come your way in return.
You remember how joyous you used to feel when a letter came only a few days later. Being handed a letter covered in oil and smelling of metal felt like tou were getting a present everytime. When you opened it after immediately running home and jumping on your bed to read it, you were always met with a piece of metal formed into a flower. Each one different then the last.
While some might not be able to read his brutish hand writing, you could understand it perfectly. Reading each one made you kick your legs and giggle. Excitement filling you as you waited for yhe day when he returned to the south blue to whisk you away and show you how life is meant to be lived. Each letter only made you impatiently wait for the day.
But one year turned two, then three. And still no sign of your live coming back. The weekly letters turned monthly before then turning once every few months. Each passing day was like torture. Waiting and praying a letter would arrive only to be broken hearted 99 percent ot the time. You heard about him in the paper more then you heard from yhe man himself.
The times a letter did come, there was no longer a crafted flower along with it, the writing sloppy and no longer had the words 'I love you' written at the bottom of the page. While the envelope was still stained in oil and had the intense smell of metal, your heart no longer jumped when you were handed it. What once you use to read immediately, you now wait till the end of the day to read it. Anything and everything before reading the letters.
Now, the letters have stopped coming. And you've stopped sending them. No point in continuing to shatter your already broken heart, crying for another only for it to never arrive.
The final straw your fragile heart could take was seeing a picture of him kissing an unknown person. Seeing it on the front page of the newspaper made your world crumble around you. The life you planned stolen from your fingertips right before your eyes. Dreams of going places out to sea and away from the south blue crushed. Bringing you back to the same dock you met him at, clutching all his and your letters close to your heart.
"Red headed bastard...you really are the worst of the worst generation."
97 notes · View notes
thebadgerclan · 1 year
Text
Sister
Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sister!reader 
Summary: No one knew that Kaz had a sister...
Idk why or how I came up with this, but I loved the idea too much not to write
Also third person just fit this one lol, I’m not the biggest fan, but let me know what you guys think
No one knew that Kaz Brekker had a sister, few people even knew about his older brother.  But he had: back when he was Kaz Rietveld, the only thing on his mind being whether he could convince Jordie to buy him a hot chocolate, there had been a third Rietveld.  Jordie, the eldest, entrusted with his father’s fortune, Kaz, the impressionable, joyful young boy, and Y/N, only a year Kaz’s junior.
When the firepox came, and Kaz succumbed to the fever, she had as well.  And when Kaz woke to find Jordie cold beneath his touch, her body had been nowhere in sight.  Was she dead, or had she somehow survived?  It was easier to assume the former, for Kaz to forge ahead alone in the world.  All three Rietveld siblings died then, but only Kaz was reborn, vengeance burning like an inferno in his heart.  For Jordie, for Y/N, he would bring Ketterdam to its knees.
Years later, Kaz would learn that she had indeed survived.  After the plague had passed, a pair of Ravkan nobles arrived in Ketterdam, offering to take in the orphans the firepox had created.  “It was a Ravkan ship that brought it,” they said.  “If our country can give these children a life, then we will take them.”  She’d been one of the first children taken, adopted by the Duke and Duchess themselves.  Y/N had been raised in Ravka: learned their language, their customs, their faith.  And when she came of age, she was presented to court, as all the children of nobility were, to make a good marriage.  
Y/N had been lucky.  She had not only made an advantageous match, but she’d found true love as well.  Her new husband doted on her night and day, granting her every wish.  And when she wished to discover whether her brothers had survived the Queen’s Lady Plague all those years ago, she discovered her husband had many connections in which to obtain that information.
It hadn’t been easy, but Y/N’s husband had found him.  Kaz wasn’t a common name, after all.  When he’d received the letter, he’d thought it a joke, but as he read on, he realized the letter contained details that no one but his sister could have known.  Kaz, it said.  If you’re reading this, then I want you to know that I’m alive.  I was adopted and taken to Ravka after the firepox passed.  If I’d have known you survived, I would have insisted they take you too.  But I had no clue where you were or if you and Jordie had made it.
I want you to know that I’m alive, that I’m safe.  Life in Ravka has been good to me; I’m married now!  Saints, I think you’d adore my husband, the two of you are exactly the same.  At least… how I remember you to be.  Please, Kaz, write back to me.  Let me know that you’re alive, that you’ve survived, that I haven’t been mourning you for no reason for 15 years.  I’m afraid I can’t disclose too much about my life in writing, but if you give a letter to a woman named Lila at the Ravkan embassy, she’ll ensure it gets to me.  I love you, brother, time has not changed that.  -Y/N.
There had been no last name affixed, no address, so naturally, Kaz’s interest was piqued.  For months, he corresponded with her through Lila, learning more about who she was,  her life in Ravka, and who she’d married.  It interested him not only because the information might be useful one day, but because Y/N was family, she was his sister.  Indeed, the information was useful, as Kaz and his Crows had been tasked with a nearly impossible job.
A Shu priest had hired Kaz to steal what she claimed was a relic of Sankt Kho, one that had been taken from the temples of Amhrat Jen decades ago.  But, as Nina so aptly pointed out, breaking into the Grand Palace’s religious archives would break at least a dozen Ravkan laws.  “We’d be arrested immediately and labeled as heretics as well as criminals.  The Apparat himself would try to oversee our executions.”
“I have a way around that,” Kaz had said, but Nina wasn’t convinced.  “Do you?  I know your tricks Kaz.  Those archives are guarded day and night, there’s one way in and one way out, no windows, no secondary escapes.  Do you think you can waltz right in and take Sankt Kho’s relic?”  “Not quite waltz, but yes.”  The Heartrender snarled.  “Short of a letter from the Queen of Ravka, there’s no possible way you can get in there alone.  Do you have that, Kaz?”
“Actually I do.”  Jesper, Inej, and Wylan looked on with disbelief.  “All Saints, you can admit defeat, you know?  We won’t judge you!”  Kaz pulled a letter from his coat and tossed it on the table.  It bore the Lantsov seal and the Queen’s signature, and Nina gaped.  “And how did you manage to get your hands on this?”  Kaz, if there’s ever anything you need, know that I will use the full extent of my powers to help you.  I couldn’t help you before, brother, so let me help you now.  Of course, if it’s blatant murder, then I’ll have to deny.  We can’t have the Queen of Ravka tied up in a homicide, now can we?  “Because,” Kaz said, hesitant to reveal this, the ace up his sleeve, his final secret.  “She’s my sister.”
814 notes · View notes
prying-pandora666 · 9 months
Text
Do you ever think about the characters when they’re alone?
You know, the things the narrative pretty clearly communicates but which we never actually see?
Like how many nights Zuko must’ve laid on his cot in his ship and cried, missing his home, his family, his bed, his life… How many times he wrapped himself up in a blanket and pretended it was his mom holding him again. How many times he woke up from a dream where he’s back home and unburned only to wake up on a cold, hard metal ship, uncomfortable and shivering, hearing the groans of strained metal. Alone. You have no Nation. No place you could settle down. Everyone hates you but none more than your own homeland. What if Uncle dies? Or leaves too? What then? What will he do?
Or how many times Katara dreamed that her mother dying was just a nightmare! That it was all a dream and mom is still alive, dad is still home, her childhood didn’t get cut short. How many times Katara must’ve woken up and sat up looking for mom only to find she’s in the middle of nowhere, in a bedroll, surrounded by other kids she feels responsible for. How many times she cried by herself, wishing she had someone to “mom” her the way she does for everyone else. How often did Sokka have nightmares? How often he feared the Fire Nation showing up and killing them all. That he alone would have to stand up and fight them. How many nightmares of being burned alive, failing, and then watching his tribe suffer the same fate because he couldn’t protect them. How often did he cry out for Hakoda quietly, muffling his words into his pillow, wishing for dad to protect him again?
Surely Toph had her share of night terrors. They’d be dark because she doesn’t know sight, but surely there’d be sounds and a sensation of being trapped, locked in, like in a tiny metal cage. The kind where she discovered metalbending. How many times did she cower and flinch at night, dreaming that metalbending really wasn’t possible? That she’d spend the rest of her life trapped, forced to be an isolated, beautiful bobble, seen but not heard, never allowed out of her prison again?
How often did Aang wake up to the sound of Gyatso calling him, only to sit up and realize it was a dream? His people are dead. His entire way of life is dead. It’s never coming back. No, really. It seems too horrible to be true, but it is. They’re all dead. You are all that remains of your culture and you’re only 12. You can’t possibly know enough to preserve it. What are you going to do? You want to ask Gyatso. You can’t. He’s dead. He’s been dead for 100 years. He’s not even close to having been alive. And yet he feels like he was just here…
And then there’s Azula. Whether living in Ozai’s palace and forced to live every day in anxiety - forced to be perfect in every way - because you know that no one in this world loves you. The only thing keeping you from being the new Zuko is your usefulness. You keep father’s favor by performing, no matter how horrible or traumatic the task, hoping it’ll finally be enough to earn his love and you can finally know what it’s like to be cherished and held and wanted the way mom loved Zuko. Or… when she’s in the abusive asylum. Chi blocked so she’s immobile. Stuffed into a straitjacket. Mistreated and unable to defend yourself. You can’t even tell anyone because no one comes to visit until your brother needs something from you. You cry only in the dead of night, muffling your sobs into the mat you sleep on, brushing away your tears with its coarse fibers since you can’t even use your hands to move your bangs out of your eyes. Never show weakness. You know that much.
How often did they all dream of a warm and safe place where they’d be loved and protected? I hope they all got it in the end, LOK be damned. Every last one.
270 notes · View notes
sitp-recs · 1 month
Note
Liv, I am begging you. Please share drarry omegaverse recs. I’ve read all there is to read and I am starved.
Oh anon, I wish I could rec more but I don’t read omegaverse very often 😢 I’m listing the ones I know below (you’ve probably read them already!) - they’re all completed plus @hoko-onchi-writes is currently posting To Hold You in the Earth's Unholy Din and I’ve seen amazing comments about it, you should definitely check it out!
Drarry:
you killed me in the gloom by @fw00shy (T, 1.7k) - AU
Having won the war, Harry returns to the Kingdom of Slytherin to lay claim to his true mate. Draco Malfoy is as beautiful as he was all those years ago. There's only one problem: he doesn't remember Harry at all.
Heat of the Moment by @writcraft (E, 2k)
Harry’s never felt much like an Alpha but that all changes when Draco Malfoy turns up on his doorstep, asking Harry for help.
Alpha by @lqtraintracks (E, 2.6k)
Finding out I’m Malfoy’s Alpha and he’s my Omega might have gone a lot differently had we not still hated each other. But we do, so here’s how it goes.
in heat by @bonesliketambourines (E, 4k)
Draco’s been getting by just fine despite his unfortunate little genetic gift. Until Potter decides to barge in and muck everything up, that is.
Heat of the Heart by carpemermaid (E, 6k)
Draco was recently bitten by a werewolf in the line of duty as an Auror. He'd been dealing with it as best he could, but then his first heat came on hot and fast in the middle of filling out reports with his Auror partner, Harry Potter. Luckily for him, Potter has a knack for saving his arse.
This is How by @bixgirl1 (E, 6.5k)
Omegas are long gone, or so everyone thinks. This is not how things were supposed to go.
Harry Potter and the Werewolf Consultant by 0idontknow0 (E, 15k)
After Teddy transforms into a werewolf for the first time Harry and Andromeda don’t know what to do. They consult an adult werewolf to help Teddy adjust and that werewolf turns out to be one Draco Malfoy.
The Songbirds of Avebury Manor by Tessa Crowley (E, 18k) - AU
Harry Potter presents as alpha at fifteen, and it is supposed to change his life for the better. Instead, it leads him to a beautiful noble omega he cannot have, a political plot he cannot escape, and a threat on his life.
in the electricity of your touch by tryslora (E, 24k)
After returning to Hogwarts after the war, Harry realizes he has nothing to do. There is nothing to chase, or to fight. Why, then does he feel as if there is something pricking under his skin? And why does it feel like he’s struck by lightning every time Draco Malfoy touches him? There’s only one explanation: Draco Malfoy is up to something, and Harry has to find out what it is and put a stop to it.
Tuxedo Angel by tryslora (E, 25k)
Harry and Neville are looking for the infamous Dragon Lily, a Dark witch active throughout Europe and Asia. Instead, they find the Tuxedo Angel, a beautiful witch performing in Rome.
Embers by @shiftylinguini (E, 41k)
Werewolf Alphas aren't meant to be alone, or to suppress their ruts indefinitely like Draco has been since he was bitten eight years ago. He needs company, companionship, to knot ― he needs an Omega Heat Companion. At least, that’s what the Healers say, and even Draco can admit contacting the person they’ve referred him to might be nice.
Expectant by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (E, 62k)
After he accidentally gets Malfoy pregnant on a drunken fuck at a club, Harry doesn't anticipate that it'd be just as easy to fall in love with him.
Dissident by Constance1 (E, 181k)
In a world of Alphas and Omegas, Harry is surprised to discover that he is a rare male Omega. He assumes his pull towards Draco Malfoy is because the Slytherin is an Alpha, but there is more at play here than even Harry knows.
Other ships:
Can't I Have Both? by @nv-md (E, 1.8k) - Harry/Draco/Blaise
Werewolves usually only have one mate, but of course, Draco has to be special and have two Alphas chasing after him. And he makes sure they always want him...especially when he can drag them into the loo of a club.
Almond Blossom by @shiftylinguini (E, 4k) - Teddy/James
James plans it out meticulously--and then of course, his rut comes early anyway.
Heat by @lqtraintracks (E, 7.5k) - James/Scorpius
James had always been miserable as an Alpha. Mostly because he was crap at it. Until Scorpius Malfoy went into an unexpected heat, that is.
Heat by iamisaac (E, 10k) - Teddy/Charlie
When Teddy comes of-age, he discovers that while he didn't inherit his father's lycanthropy, he did inherit his omega traits. Charlie, as an alpha, is more than happy to help him through.
Blame it on the Moon by @shiftylinguini (E, 32k) - Teddy/James
Teddy was born a werewolf. James gets bitten later in life (not by Teddy) and Teddy is there to help him through his first heat.
At The End of The Rope by shiftylinguini (E, 35k) - Teddy/James
Everyone presents in the springtime of their fifteenth year, and no one was more excited about this than James ― or more disappointed when it didn’t happen. But that’s okay, at twenty-two he’s now made peace with being an Absent Presentation, and with his conviction that no one in their right mind would want to be with or claim someone like him, least of all the person he really wants.
61 notes · View notes
callsign-rogueone · 2 months
Text
part of the family - d.a.
Dain Aetos x marked!reader The marked ones have been your only family since your parents were executed — until now. [request] words: 3.7k 🏷: IRON FLAME SPOILERS. she/her afab reader in an established (but secret) relationship with Dain, descriptions of fainting and loss of vision, talk of contraceptives, periods, and pregnancy, you love Dain but he still has his problems (you’ll see), featuring bestie Bodhi (who is the captain of this ship lmao) and older (foster) bro Garrick. went totally overboard on this one but like. girl dad dain 🥺🥰
You slip into the meeting quietly, pressing yourself against the wall -- most assembly gatherings are open to any who wish to attend, but you’d rather them not know you’re here. 
Xaden stands before the elders, in the thick of an argument that is very obviously about Dain.
“He’s clearly here as a spy. Why else would he side with us?”
You can’t hold back your response. “Because I showed him everything. Resson, Liam, the wyvern, the fliers, the dagger drops… all of it.”
So much for staying incognito. All heads turn to you, different emotions on their faces. Xaden looks as if you’ve stabbed him. Two of the elders look like they want to kill you where you stand. You can’t quite read the look on Brennan’s face. 
“I say we confine her with him,” one says, eyeing you with contempt. “She is clearly a danger to the movement, if she was willing to take such a risk.”
You step forward to address them properly. “It was a calculated risk,” you say carefully. “Of all the marked Tyrrish, I am the one he trusts most. And I was prepared to kill him, had he not changed his mind about us.”
“Does he know that?” Xaden asks.
“No,” you answer, ashamed. You still don’t know if you could have gone through with it — could have lifted the dagger you’d held behind your back while he watched the last year’s events through your eyes and struck true, stopped the heart of the man you love.
Acid rises in your throat at the thought. You swallow it back down, continuing. “He may have hurt us in the past, but he was not raised as we were. A hundred others we brought with us can attest to the history that he was taught, the side of the story he was led to believe until I showed him otherwise.”
The assembly is silent.
You lower your head, unable to look at them. “Lock me up if you wish, kill me if you must. All I ask is that you spare his life.”
Brennan is the first to soften — he knows Dain, regarded him as a younger brother for years. That and the fact that you’re willing to die for the boy is evidence enough for him. “Very well. He may join the rest of us and keep his position as wingleader.”
Nobody dares to disagree with him.
“Thank you,” you say quietly. You bow to them, taking your leave.
It’s easy enough to swipe a plate of food from the kitchens, carrying it up to the room Dain has been locked in all weekend. The guard posted outside sees the mark on your arm, letting you enter without question. 
At least two people in this fortress still trust you.
Dain’s head snaps up when the door opens, visibly relaxing as he sees it’s you.
You set the plate aside, moving to embrace him for the first time in days.
“Hi, my love,” he says softly, wrapping his arms around you.
“Hi,” you sniff, eyes watering.
You had told the assembly that you were prepared to kill him, but now that you’re in his arms, you know that you could never do anything to hurt him, no matter what he had decided.
Your tears are falling steadily now — you’ve cried nearly every day these last few weeks, constantly overwhelmed with emotion. You climb into his lap, needing him close. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he soothes, resting his hand on the side of your neck and stroking his thumb over your pulse. This is the closest he’ll come to touching your face since the night he discovered his signet — save for the other day, when you’d taken his hand in yours and pressed it to your cheek, showing him everything.
You’d cracked open your heart for him, spread it onto the table and let him see it all, and he had stood and watched, seen the other side of the story. It had hurt him then, to realize that you’d hidden all of this from him for almost two years, but the warm saltwater dripping onto his hand had snapped him out of it quickly.
He wants to dry your tears again now, to brush them away with a gentle sweep of his finger, but he won’t cross that line with you again. He can’t.
“I love you,” he says softly.
“I love you too,” you answer, rubbing at your eyes with the back of your hand.
He shushes you softly, holding you closer. There’s a moment of calm quiet, the two of you just breathing each other in.
“I told them,” you say in a cracked whisper, unable to keep it from him any longer. “I told the assembly that I showed you everything.”
His eyes widen. “Why did you…?”
“I couldn’t stand silent while they talked about you that way. I convinced them that you are truly our ally, that it wasn’t your fault that you were taught only one side of the story.”
He leans down to rest his forehead against yours, your noses brushing. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” you reply. “For doing the right thing. I don’t think I could have bared to leave without you.”
He smiles softly. “I would follow you anywhere, my love.”
-------------------------------------------------------
You are so sick of this hike, and you aren’t even halfway done. For team-building, the leadership had said. Yeah, right. You feel like you’ve been herding a pack of wild animals all morning.
“If we press on for twenty minutes, there’s another flat section,” Bodhi explains, showing you the map that Brennan had given you.
You can’t hear the rest of his explanation through the ringing in your ears, the map blurring at the edges. You blink rapidly, trying to clear your vision, but it’s no use — the tiny black spots won’t go away.
“Hey,” Bodhi prods, waving a hand, “are you hearing me?”
“Give me a minute,” you pant, reaching out to touch the wall of rock behind you. Your legs feel too heavy, your upper body too light — your heart is racing, but the beats feel too shallow. 
Something is wrong.
“You should sit,” he and your dragon offer at once.
You shift your left leg, moving to lower yourself to the ground, and the black spots grow until you can’t see anything. You lose the last of your balance, crumpling into the dirt.
Bodhi stops your head from hitting the rocks just in time.
-------------------------------------------------------
You don’t remember how you got here, nor much of the physical exam; don’t know if it took five minutes or an hour, but the healer is incredibly gentle with you; speaking softly, giving you water to drink and medicine to take, encouraging you to rest.
You shut your eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to sleep, not when the rest of your friends are still out climbing that mountain, crossing a trail littered with death traps. 
“They’re doing just fine,” Cosa soothes. “They’ll be back faster if you sleep.”
You feel much better when you wake up. 
The sun is starting to set. You must have been out for hours.
The healer comes back a few minutes later with Dain in tow. You reach for him instantly, relieved to see him in one piece. He stands at the side of the bed, wrapping an arm around you and letting you lean into his side.
“It could be a circulation issue, but since it hasn’t happened before, I’d say it was likely just dehydration and overexertion,” the healer explains.
That’s probably it. You were too busy making sure your section was moving quickly enough, that they were avoiding the traps and staying out of trouble. You’d spent your two rest breaks preventing the riders and fliers from coming to blows, having to physically restrain one of the first-years. Your jaw still aches from where you’d taken an elbow to the face in the process.
“There’s another thing,” she says, hesitating as she looks between you and Dain, appearing to debate if she can say this in front of him -- whatever it is, it clearly isn’t good.
Dain takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers and looking up at her, waiting.
You nod in permission.
She overcomes her nerves, spitting it out. “You’re… expecting.”
The air in the room stills completely as you take in the information, the soft tick of the clock on the wall the only indication that time hasn’t frozen solid.
“I’ll give you two a minute,” she says quietly, darting out of the room and shutting the door behind her.
You still haven’t moved. You’ve forgotten how to speak.
“Breathe, love,” Dain soothes, rubbing your back. The warmth of his hand brings you out of your stunned haze.
You take in a lungful of air, letting it out slowly.
There’s no denying it, no pleading innocence or wondering how this could have possibly happened — it makes total sense, even through your dull headache and the fog still clouding your mind.
You’ve spent two nights a week in his bed for the last year and a half, and you haven’t had one cup of contraceptive tea since you arrived at Riorson house, or in the month before that either — you’d been out in the field every weekend for your third-year classes.
You’d missed a period or two, but you had chalked it up to the stress of your responsibilities as a section leader and the final straws that had led half the quadrant to desert with you. It would definitely not have been the first time that Basgiath had messed with your cycle; hardly any of the girls in your year got their period until after Threshing.
“Talk to me,” Dain coaxes quietly, looking at you with softness in his eyes.
“Why are you not freaking out right now?” You ask after a moment.
He manages a soft laugh. “I am, but I know you are too, and I’m more worried about you right now.”
You blow out a breath. “I don’t know how we’re gonna do this. None of our friends have kids. My parents are dead, and yours…”
“Have probably already disowned me for being here,” he finishes for you, shrugging, but you can tell it hurts.
“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, guilt tugging at you. Had he stayed behind, he would have been able to keep them, he’d still have the thing you’ve desired most for six years now.
But then you’d be completely alone in raising this child.
The thought sends a sharp spike of fear into your chest. You’ve already lost so many friends in your two years at Basgiath, and you’re headed straight for a war, fighting against dark magic that none of you really understand. What if Dain doesn’t make it through?
“We’ll figure it out,” he reassures you, “together.”
-------------------------------------------------------
Dain doesn’t leave your side all night, keeping one hand on you whenever he can. He treats you like a princess, going so far as to kneel down to lace your boots for you in the morning, despite your quiet insistence that you could do it yourself.
You’re prepared to resume your usual routine; strict professionalism by day, gentle words and soft touches after dark, but he takes your hand, walking down the hall with you to the mess for breakfast.
You get shocked looks from a few of your classmates, but it’s nice being able to be seen with him for once instead of keeping the two of you a secret. Not that you’d be able to for very much longer, anyway — two is quickly going to become three.
It takes all of five minutes for your friends to spot you.
“I called it!” Bodhi exclaims, elbowing Imogen.
“I already knew,” Imogen says, unamused.
You’re deathly still, heart racing. 
Dain rests a hand on your lower back as he speaks. “Knew what?”
“About you two hooking up. Do you have any idea how many times you idiots have shown up to morning formation with your shoes untied, wearing each other’s knives?”
You laugh at her bluntness — you thought you’d been slick, always arriving to class five minutes apart and from different directions, avoiding eye contact at all costs… evidently not.
“You two look good together,” Bodhi decides. “It’s weird, but it’s cute.”
You sigh in relief. Bodhi is the one that you knew you could count on to be nice about this; the one you’ve wanted to tell about you and Dain for months now.
Dain blinks. “Why are you guys being so chill right now?”
“Do you not want me to be chill?” Imogen challenges, raising an eyebrow.
“No, I just… I was expecting the shovel talk. You know, the whole “I’ve got a sword and a shovel and I know how to use both” thing?”
“Oh, that’s Garrick’s job,” she supplies, almost too cheerfully. “And I think he’ll be a little more detailed than that.”
Dain pales, realizing that your foster brother likely won’t be as calm about this as your friends — and that there’s another very important thing that you’ll have to tell him, too.
You laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll be there to hold him back.”
Imogen nearly gags at the sight, but straightens her face quickly enough. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” 
“Me too,” you respond, smiling for the first time this week.
Maybe this won’t go as terribly as you’d thought.
-------------------------------------------------------
Word travels fast in the rider’s quadrant.
Garrick approaches you in the main hall that afternoon.
You begin the speech you’d rehearsed in your head all morning. “I need to talk to you about something. I-”
He raises a hand, and you fall silent. “Bo already told me, and he made sure I was unarmed for this conversation.”
You let out a sigh of relief — he’s missing his two longswords and the array of daggers he normally keeps strapped to his body. 
If you survive the next seven months, you’ll name Bodhi the kid’s godfather for this act alone.
You still place yourself in front of Dain as subtly as you can as Garrick starts a speech of his own. 
“You’re an adult, and you can make your own decisions. It’s not my place to tell you what to do off the battlefield. Even if I did, I know you wouldn’t hear it. You’ve always been your own person; it’s one of the things I admire about you.” 
You’re actually touched.
“Do you love him?” He asks, looking over at the wingleader, who has remained uncharacteristically silent, probably too terrified to speak. 
“I do,” you answer, smiling softly. “I have for two years now.”
Garrick believes you. 
It’s clear that the words pain him, but he says them anyway; “Welcome to the family, Aetos.”
Dain extends a hand to shake. “Thank you.”
Garrick takes it, gripping it hard enough to hurt as he tugs him forward, clapping his other hand onto the younger man’s shoulder. “Know that if you ever do anything to hurt her, you’ll be answering to me and me alone.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Dain says, and the Lieutenant knows that he means it. 
Garrick leaves before you can work up the courage to tell him the other news.
-------------------------------------------------------
Dozens of riders pass by, ready to head to the flight field and assume their positions — but Dain keeps you locked in place.
“You really expect me to stand idle while you and all of our friends fight for their lives? I should be out there with them!” You huff. You’re ready to fight, fully dressed and heavily armed, and you couldn’t give a damn what he thinks.
“Absolutely not,” Dain says. “I won’t let you risk it.”
You bristle. “That isn’t your call, and you know it!”
“What are you two bickering about at this hour?” Garrick asks, one eyebrow raised.
You cross your arms over your chest, looking at your brother like a child tattling to their schoolteacher. “Please explain to the wingleader that we’re at war, and that he can’t just bench me whenever he feels like it. I’m a grown woman, and I can decide what is and isn’t safe for myself.”
“But it isn’t just you we’re talking about here,” Dain says quietly, genuine hurt in his voice.
You’re silent. Dain has a point — you don’t want to admit it, but he has a point. 
Garrick doesn’t follow. “What is he going on about?”
Dain looks at you, standing his ground. “If you won’t tell him, I will.”
Your heart drops. Is he really going to force your hand here?
You have to tell Garrick eventually — you can’t keep this a secret much longer. You decide to rip the bandage off, turning to face your foster brother, though you can’t seem to raise your voice above a whisper as you speak. “Please don’t freak out, but…”
His eyes drop to the hand you have placed over your stomach, a nervous habit you’ve developed in the last week, and he puts it together before you can say the words aloud, lunging toward Dain — he’s going to kill him.
You jump between them, wrapping your arms around Garrick tightly and planting your feet to the floor, pushing him back.
He relaxes at your touch, unfolding the fist that was aimed for Dain’s jaw and resting his hand flat on your back; he could never hurt you, especially not now.
“Please don’t be mad at him,” you say into his shoulder, your eyes still squeezed shut. “This is as much my fault as it is his. We’re both adults, we knew that this could happen, but we acted anyway, and now we’re facing the consequences, together.”
Dain nods in agreement behind you. “I have every intention of marrying your sister and spending the rest of my life with her after this is over.”
You turn back to look at him, stunned. 
He's never told you that before. You’d never discussed life beyond graduation — had lost too many of your friends over the years to make any promises about the future, and there was never any guarantee that you’d be stationed together after graduating, either.
“If she’ll have me, that is,” he adds, nervous.
You nod, letting go of Garrick and moving to hug Dain, hiding your face in his neck.
“Are you… crying?” Garrick asks.
“Of course I’m crying,” you sniff. “It’s the hormones.”
Dain laughs, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss to your temple. “I love you, and I’m sorry for overreacting. If you want to fight with us, I won’t stop you.”
“Love you too,” you say quietly.
“Holy shit,” Bodhi breathes from across the room. “I’m gonna be an uncle?”
Oh, gods.
“Congratulations,” he grins at you before running off. “Hey guys! Guess what?”
Three seconds pass, and then there’s a loud “What the fuck?” from down the hall — that can only be Imogen. 
You laugh through your tears as the ruckus continues, the rest of the marked ones reacting to the news one by one.
“At least we won’t have to tell everyone ourselves,” Dain jokes, still holding you. “Bodhi will have informed the entire army by noon.”
Garrick shakes his head, laughing too, but he sobers up quickly enough. “The circumstances may be shitty, but this kid is going to have two dozen aunts and uncles who will protect them with their life.”
“And a riot of dragons,” Cosa adds. “We will care for your young like one of ours.”
Dain is right -- you’ll figure this out together; all of you.
-------------------------------------------------------
“A perfect baby girl,” the older of the two healers tells you, smiling warmly.
You sigh in relief, resting back against the pillows and loosening your grip on Dain’s hand. 
He presses a kiss to your sweaty forehead, murmuring soft praises; how strong you are, how amazing you were…
“Hi, pretty girl,” the healer coos down at her. “Let’s meet mom and dad, hm?” 
It finally sets in for both of you, that you two are mom and dad now — you’re parents.
She slowly transfers the babe into your arms. You’ve never held anything this carefully in your life; afraid to move or breathe, utterly silent.
A tiny hand wiggles free from the blanket, fingers grasping at the air.
“She’s so little,” Dain whispers in awe, extending a finger. She’s quick to wrap her hand around it, latching on to him.
He looks like he’s going to cry.
“She’s not marked,” you breathe.
You’re the first of the marked ones to have a child of your own, and while you knew it was probably irrational, your biggest worry over the last six months — aside from the venin and wyvern or anything terrible happening to you or your friends — was that you would somehow pass down your relic to her, that she would live her whole life with others instantly assuming the worst of her.
“She’s free to be whatever she wants to be,” Dain says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “She won’t be forced into conscription like we were.”
You still haven’t decided on a name -- until now.
“Saoirse Álainn,” you say softly. “It means beautiful freedom, in the old language.”
“Saoirse Álainn,” he repeats, still gazing down at her. “I like that.”
She’s beautiful indeed — the best of both of you; the gentle warmth of her father’s skin and a dusting of his dark brown hair, your eyes and nose.
“Thank you,” he says quietly, “for showing me that what I’d been taught was wrong, and giving me the greatest gift I could ever ask for.”
You can’t help but melt into him, the exhaustion finally starting to overtake you. It’s been a long night — you’d woken up around two in the morning and realized what was happening, quickly rousing Dain, who carried you down here. It’s almost noon now, soft June sun filtering through the drapes.
“I got her. You should sleep.”
He takes Saorise from you gently, careful to support her head like the healers had taught you as he cradles her in his arms. 
The tiny girl makes a soft sound of complaint at the movement, but quickly relaxes, content to fall asleep against his chest. 
“Get some rest, my girls,” he whispers. “I’ll be here when you wake.”
54 notes · View notes
eluxcastar · 1 year
Note
Hiiii I saw that your requests were open and I'd like to submit one where Pantalone, Capitano and Pierro have an s/o which has sleeping troubles, like insomnia or gets nightmares alot, these boys dont get anough love. Tyyyy 🥺🥺
Sweet dreams, darling
── ୨୧:pantalone, il capitano, pierro x reader (separate)
୨୧﹑synopsis :: some nights it's hard to fall asleep, no matter how much you try tossing and turning. sometimes they're already awake, or sometimes you accidentally wake them up but one way or another they've discovered this glaring issue.
୨୧﹑genre :: fluff
୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, uuhh other stuff, domestic fluff, use of petnames on pantalone and pierro's (darling, love), not at all proofread
୨୧﹑words :: 2866
you're so right dear anon they're so underrated, especially Pierro at least from what I've seen I love him tbh that man is hot (literally nobody will hear me out) (this is an extremely understandable phenomenon) sorry this is late I got busy taking care of my cat he's like a fifty year old man thinking he can still tussle with the younger cats
Tumblr media
─ ୨୧:pantalone
to be completely honest, he can't stand when you sleep like that. he stares at you from his side of the bed where you lay finally at peace, and can never quite bring himself to disturb you, but a part of him wishes that you would find a position that doesn't hurt your back so much to wake up in. he understands that that's difficult, though.
curled in on yourself in a tight ball like you're an overgrown house cat seems to be the other way you can hope to sleep lately, complaining that you're uncomfortable any other way through no fault of your own. in a perfect world he can pluck your little issue right out of existence, vanish it away to a dark corner to never again be found, letting you have the most blissful refreshing sleep you've ever had however this is not a perfect world and thus he is forced to watch you toss and turn through the night.
truly Pantalone has found at least one thing he can confidently say he finds himself to be abysmal at. he makes you a cup of tea before bed, though not an uncommon action. he hears this particular blend can help with sleeping troubles, expensive as it may be imported from Snezhnaya's polar opposite Natlan, requiring certain shipping conditions. it's hardly enough to inconvenience him however, recalling how he almost asked "Is that all?" like it was pocket change. it seems to at least relax you, and you enjoy the taste, so he continues to purchase it regularly.
he's found you sleep best when you lay by his side, pampered by those delicate hands that stroke your forehead and lull you to sleep if a little slowly. his affections are not nearly as slow as trying to do it alone, pulling you close until you're snug up against him, and his head tries to situate your head onto his chest. your struggles must lessen, and his arm around you has helped, he's seen so.
he cannot find another way to comfort you, almost nothing that money can buy besides medicine he keeps pestering a certain doctor to make, so he provides you with time, affection, gentle actions meant to soothe you as he strokes your forehead, rubs his thumb against your temple. all of this provided to you while you lay your head against his arm. tonight is slightly different as you lay your head on his chest attempting to find a comfortable spot while he reads a book to you which he thought you might enjoy.
Pantalone believes you to be paying the utmost attention, his arm around you holding the book open. that is until his forearm accidentally knocks your head turning a page, and his most profuse apologies are met with...silence?
"Darling?" he questions, wondering if you were hurt--he's not sure how that could happen with such a light bump--but he awkwardly lifts his head to find you don't move to get up as you might've if you thought he was getting up you're completely still. you couldn't possibly be... no, not a chance after all that effort and research a book put you to sleep? he either had the most boring taste or had accidentally stumbled upon the cure to your little conundrum.
the next morning Pantalone is well out of bed by the time you awake, a usual occurrence as he sits dressed for work with one last cup of tea piping hot at his side.
"Good morning." you say as you rub your eyes, noticing he's reading the book from last night.
he glances up from his book to flash a smile at you, "Good morning, darling." he says, unusually pleased for some reason-- seemingly also straight to the point as he asks "Are my book recommendations truly so boring they make you fall asleep or do you just like being read to sleep?"
"Oh, well..." now that you think about it, you don't actually recall anything from the book, only knowing that Pantalone was reading it to you. you can remember the way the words sounded, melding together in your head and hardly discernible into actual sentences. perhaps you did like being read to sleep. "I couldn't say how boring your books are, but maybe someone's a better reader than he thought~."
you lean down to kiss his cheek, promptly wandering off to get yourself a cup of that tea he made. perhaps he'll have to read to you more often...
 
─ ୨୧:capitano
you find yourself waking up in the middle of the night a lot lately, startled awake, disoriented and a little scared. tonight is no different as you awake to an expectedly empty bed, unsurprised when you see nothing there on the other side. there is no sign of Capitano yet, out on a mission somewhere just as he said he would be. you're not mad he's gone, just a little lonely, worrying that something would happen to him.
you climb out of bed and resort to your new coping mechanism. without the real Capitano, you simply must convince yourself he is there in some way. thus, you make your way to your shared closet and look for a shirt he wore semi-recently. you manage to find one he changes into when he gets home and wants to relax, softer than armour for you to lean on when you lay your head on his chest to drift off to sleep while he plays with your hair.
you're glad for something with a happier association, something which you can cling to even while he's gone. his shirt is a catalyst for that, carrying his scent, though you have nothing to hold in his absence, if maybe a pillow unfortunate enough to find itself cuddled up to your chest.
despite yourself you almost feel as if the roles have reversed, almost never the bigger of your pair, though you have always cuddled up to him, arms awkwardly wrapped around him.
you awake to another of his letters, seemingly his response to your telling him about your troubles falling asleep, laying awake restless and increasingly tired though still unable to find solace in a good night's rest. it is delivered personally to your hands by a fatuu as all of his letters have been, ensuring their safe travel to you, as well as ensuring there's someone's head to be had if they don't. in their other arm a large teddy bear is tucked away, though not immediately presented to you causing you to almost walk off.
"Ah-- This also arrived for you!" you spin yourself back around to meet the mask face of a fatuu holding a teddy bear out to you, almost a funny sight and you crack a smile. "Also from Lord Capitano." they add.
Uh...ok that's a little strange.
you take your new friend, soft and fuzzy, a bow tied around its neck sewn into the fabric. it's strangely cute, though you're not exactly sure how he was able to acquire such a thing from all the way out in Natlan. it couldn't have possibly been from there, at least you don't think so at a glance...
you reacquire the letter which had been placed down on the table, reading it over carefully. the further you read the more your smile grows, though unconsciously. you quickly uncover the origin of this bear that suddenly fell into your possession. it is from Natlan, from Capitano. his name is Cap. you just cannot fathom where he managed to pull such a creative name from. it has you giggling to yourself.
"Cap." you pick the bear up in your hands, holding it up to admire it, "Didn't he pick such a cute name out for you?" the longer you stare, though adorable, the more this bear seems to be missing something. he bears his name, his likeness if you consider that Capitano is really just a big soft teddy bear in strong armour-- ah right, this bear was missing something. though he is to be your new bed buddy, he lacks a certain...quality.
obviously you cannot dress him in armour. no, that's far too hard for you to lay your head on. however Capitano's much softer Fatui-issued fur-lined coat would make a cute little outfit for him. the first problem you find is that Capitano is currently in possession of said coat, the second is that despite the bear being on the larger side Capitano's coat would still be too large for him, possibly too bulky as well.
all in one Cap is providing you with solutions to your daytime boredom and your night-time troubles. sewing Cap a little coat would be just the perfect thing to fill your time.
a couple months and a late night of reports and paperwork and finally the trek home feels like bliss, walking the familiar path to the place that will finally again feel like home. Capitano doesn't dare leave headquarters without changing, not only for his own comfort after spending so long stuck in that armour and so that it's not so noisy when he arrives home and sneaks through the door.
the house is dark, expectedly so due to you likely not expecting him, it's only by the faint glow of golden light that emanates from your shared bedroom that he thinks for a moment you might still be awake.
ducking his head in reveals that to be false, you just must've fallen asleep with a candle lit again, though the sight easily makes up for that. as it turns out, Capitano found you the perfect gift, wrapped tightly in your arms, your cheek pressed into the fabric and your breathing steady and calm. he's about to turn away, deciding he'll come back to it once he's dealt with his things and is ready for bed, but something catches his eye—a tuft of black fur that tickles your face.
his face contorts in confusion, vividly recalling the bear's fur did not have a texture like that, but then it clicks when he realises the white next to your arm and the silhouette becomes clearer in his mind. you made him a jacket. he almost breaks down laughing over how ridiculously cute that is, but quickly covers his mouth so as to not wake you.
he's glad you like your little gift to cuddle in his stead.
 
─ ୨୧: pierro
working nights always go the same, as you've long retired for the night and gone to bed, Pierro remains awake managing his duties long into the night. coincidentally, this arrangement happens to work out well for you and your awful nightmares that will strike at any given moment.
you awake to an empty bed, guessing that it must be a busy night. it's not a bother, but you're not sure whether you'll be able to go back to sleep yet. you're a bit shaken from your dreams, needing to go and find Pierro to see what he's doing. you know he's only fulfilling bureaucratic duties, not in any actual danger, but you need to see him to ease your mind and know he's fine.
expectedly he's hunched over his desk, lost in his work as you suppose is usual at this hour. he doesn't immediately notice you, engrossed in the task at hand, but one creak of a floorboard as you make your way to him is enough for him to look up and find you at his side staring down at him.
"It happened again?" he breaks the silence already knowing why you're here, and you nod in response, a silent confirmation.
"It wasn't as bad as before, but..." you trail off for some reason, playing with your fingers trying to find the words to describe, "I don't know, I just thought-- I wanted to come see you because you weren't there." you finally get it out, though not quite as you intended. it's hard to communicate the feeling, like even though you knew nothing could've possibly happened something felt wrong.
you feel silly confessing it, like it was something wrong with you and yet he barely raises an eyebrow in protest or question of it.
"Even while you sleep, I still worry you." he says, his hand finding your waist to pull you closer.
"No, no it's not you." you try to say, trying to assure him that maybe if you were just stronger you wouldn't be so worried, your own mind to blame. "I knew what I was doing getting into this." you add.
he shuffles his chair back to make space between him and the desk, patting his thigh to usher you onto his lap, into his arms. you fit so perfectly, feel so safe, like you can melt into his body with the warmth he provides you. leaning your head against his shoulder, getting comfortable burying your face into the crook of his neck.
"Make yourself comfortable and go back to sleep, love." Pierro's hand settles on your head, holding you there, arm around you. vaguely in your ear you can make out a rhythmic thud, almost as if you hear his heart pumping in his chest. that's a nice sound. it's gentle enough it doesn't bother you, outs you at ease in fact as if a reminder he's there. you know he's there, but something about it just...helps.
"How much longer until you come to bed?" you ask, fully expecting him to give you the realistic answer that he doesn't know, and really he probably wouldn't.
he pauses, a deep breath following that you feel as Pierro's chest rises and falls once again, he then sets his pen aside, though mid sentence and clearly not even close to finished. Pierro once again shuffles his chair back, making enough space for his now free hand to come up beneath you to support you as he stands, bringing you with him now cradled in his arms.
he smiles down at you gently, and you're convinced he'd run a hand through your hair to tuck it away behind your ear if only his hand was free. you know he likes that, a little token of affection. "Let's go to bed now, and I'll finish this later." he says. you think you could've lived with sleeping in his lap for a night, though admittedly you like this arrangement a lot better.
you allow him to lay you back down, pulling the covers over you and leaving you to adjust them a bit while you wait, though when his back turns you shuffle your way over to the other side of the bed somehow hoping he won't notice you tucked up on his side. to your favour he doesn't for a while, though he's preoccupied with tugging his shirt over his head not exactly paying the most attention, not until he turns around does he notice a certain someone has taken over his spot.
"Oh? I didn't realise I was only getting this much bed. You don't leave very much room for me at all do you?" of course he'd play along when you make a face like you're trying not to giggle, though that promptly fails as he decides he's going to get you out by actually trying to fit, actually meaning he's about to sit on you and there's not a chance in hell the tiny sliver of bed is enough for anyone.
in seconds you're rolling over bursting out laughing to escape, though Pierro pulls you back kicking and squealing to kiss your cheek and try to settle you again before you rile yourself up. your antics are usually endearing, but seated on the edge of the bed having to turn himself to meet you halfway, he finds a little kiss on the lips is enough to get you back to your much calmer self.
"Do you want to sleep on my side?" he asks
"I want to listen to your heartbeat." you respond, leaning yourself forward in some attempt to-- rather uncomfortably-- press your head to his chest. "I like it."
"You can listen for as long as you like, as long as you calm down so you can go to sleep. It's late."
eventually he finds a spot in the middle of the bed, and you find that laying on him is far more comfortable, as well as ensuring that there's no way he can sneak off once you fall asleep to go back to his work. Pierro will be staying right where you hold him in place, head laying back on his chest where you can hear his heartbeat clearly. you were right, you do like it.
you are always afraid of losing him, you always have been, you don't think there will be a day when you're not. just as badly he is afraid of losing you, irrationally so as he has learned nothing is permanent. even peaceful moments like this can be reduced to ash in the blink of an eye, so he must cherish them. he must cherish you.
Pierro is more than happy to cuddle you this way if that's what you want, because really he wants it too.
Tumblr media
628 notes · View notes
Text
So Good I Could Cry
I saw this post, and knew immediately that I had to write a fic for it. This is my first fic above a T rating, so it was written in one sitting before I could lose my nerve. What follows is the softest, most gentle M-rated fic I think you can find. Additionally, I am very ace, and thought that I was writing Harry as allosexual, until Vukovich told me how much ace Harry came through in this fic, so please take a moment to laugh at my naïvety and then to thank @vukovich for being a wonderful beta reader and for ensuring that I tagged this properly 💜
Words: 1,828 Rating: Mature Summary: There was a tumblr post asking who in your ship cries during sex, and I knew my answer immediately - Harry cries during, and Draco cries afterwards in secret. Read on ao3 here
It’s all so good. Everything has been so good, for months now, that Harry can’t really figure out why it took so long for him to finally ask Draco out. He can’t figure out why multiple years of amazing friendship didn’t turn into dating and kissing sooner, not when it only took him six months to realise that his feelings for Draco weren’t just platonic. He can’t figure out why it took them so long to get here, but he’s beyond glad that they finally have.
Harry’s lost count of how many dates they’ve gone on (although Draco probably knows; he’s obsessive like that, and Harry loves that he knows that about him), or how many times they’ve kissed, or how many scorching looks Draco has given him from the other side of the room. They’ve been taking things slowly, per Draco’s wishes, although Harry hasn’t minded, and has, in fact, been delighted to watch Draco open up to him even more with every dinner and every kiss, like a flower opening so slowly into the morning sun.
Now, though, they’re here, in Harry’s bed with Draco pink-cheeked and sweaty over him, for the very first time. And it’s so good, just like everything else, just like Harry knew it would be, because it’s Draco here with him. Draco’s nerves have dissipated, and he’s radiant, leaning down to kiss Harry, making soft little noises that Harry could listen to forever, beaming and laughing, pressing his eyes shut even as his mouth falls open. There’s a strand of hair that’s come free from its queue, falling alongside Draco’s flushed cheeks, and Harry is overjoyed to watch it sway back and forth, curling up into a gentle ringlet, because that means that Draco must secretly straighten his hair, and Harry knows this now, an intimate little secret to discover even in the midst of this intimate act itself. They’ve been together for so long tonight that Draco’s hair straightening charms have worn off, and he’s comfortable enough with Harry that he hasn’t bothered to refresh them, and now Harry gets to know that there’s a wave to Draco Malfoy’s pin-straight hair, and no one else gets to have that secret.
He reaches a hand up and twirls a finger through Draco’s hair, then cups his face to simply admire him for a moment. Harry doesn’t think that anyone could ever really look attractive during sex. It’s too sweaty and red-faced and slightly gross for anyone to actually look hot the whole way through, but Draco right now is so lovely, so captivatingly beautiful, both for his red-flushed, sweaty face and for how open he is in this moment of vulnerability.
“I love you,” Harry says, before he can stop himself. He’s said it before, a few times, and he’s certain that Draco feels the same way, even if he hasn’t said it back yet. Still, Harry hadn’t wanted to pressure him right now, hadn’t wanted to risk making Draco think that he had to say it back to him at this moment because of everything else. Draco beams, though, and kisses him fiercely, and somewhere in the middle, Harry tips over into ecstasy, coming back to himself moments later with tears wet on his cheeks and more still streaming from his eyes.
They kiss some more after, and then just hold each other close, drifting in and out of sleep for a while. Draco doesn’t say anything about the tears that took a few minutes to stop, although Harry thinks he’d be well within his rights to. Honestly, who cries during sex because their boyfriend secretly has curly hair? Instead, Draco just kisses him, and runs his thumbs under Harry’s eyes to wipe away the tears, and kisses him again while fresh ones appear.
When Harry wakes up an unknown amount of time later, he can still feel the salt, tacky on his cheeks. He passes a hand over his eyes, then scrubs it across his face, before reaching out to pull Draco close to him once more. His hand meets nothing but empty sheets, still warm from Draco’s body, but rapidly cooling. And Harry knows, because he knows Draco, that he’ll be back soon. He hasn’t gone far, nor has he gone for good, and Harry is sure of it even before he sees the light shining from under the ensuite door. If Harry could be patient for two minutes, Draco would surely return to him, eager to reclaim his place next to Harry in their warm bed, and to press his always freezing toes in between Harry’s legs. But Harry’s in love with him, and everything is so good when they’re together, and he doesn’t want to be separated even for the next two minutes, and so he gets up and pads over to the bathroom door, knocking gently to preserve the quiet of the pre-dawn stillness.
“Draco?”
There’s no answer, but Harry can hear the sink running, so he pushes the door open a crack and says Draco’s name again, sees his bare back stiffen slightly at the sound of Harry’s voice. He splashes water on his face once, then turns around with a towel pressed to his cheeks, patting himself dry even as Harry steps into his space and puts his hands gently around Draco’s waist. Draco leans into the touch, but doesn’t respond in kind, continuing to dry his face, the towel now an obstacle, keeping Harry from kissing him like he so desperately wants to. Instead, Harry slips his pinkies into the waistband of the boxers Draco has put back on, and gently smooths his thumbs up and down Draco’s sides.
“Hi,” he says, still making an effort to be quiet for no reason.
“Hello,” Draco whispers back, the towel still obscuring his face and muffing his voice slightly.
“Is everything alright?” Harry gives one of Draco’s hips a gentle squeeze, and Draco sways slightly into his hand.
Draco nods, but doesn’t say anything, and the towel is still hiding his face, which means Harry is forced to judge by Draco’s stiff shoulders how much of a lie his nod was. Harry slowly pulls the towel down, revealing Draco much as he was only an hour before; his face is red and blotchy, his hair is mussed, and his eyes are closed. Unlike before though, his face is now wet with tears instead of perspiration, and Harry feels a stab of pain go through his heart at the idea that something is marring this perfect night for Draco.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, moving his hands to cup Draco’s face, almost able to see the same motion echoed between them from earlier in the evening.
Draco shakes his head, and another tear falls to meet Harry’s thumb before being wiped away.
“Nothing. I’m fine, truly I am. I don’t know why I’m crying.”
Harry wipes away another tear and tilts Draco’s chin up gently until he meets his eyes. He can’t quite parse the emotions that he sees going across Draco’s face, but he can understand, at least in part, how Draco must be feeling. Tonight was a big step for both of them, their first time together, but it was Draco’s first time ever, and Harry feels like his chest might burst with love for Draco for letting him share this moment with him. Some of that must be reflected on his own face, because Draco gives him a watery little smile and tries again to explain.
“I’m fine, it’s just…” ‘A lot’ finishes Draco’s voice in Harry’s head, but he remains silent and gives Draco the chance to say the words for himself. “A lot,” he says, with another small smile, and then his lower lip begins to quaver again. “It’s all been really good!” he hastens to add. “And I’m fine!” he says, more tears splashing down his face. “It’s just a lot, all at once.”
Harry nods his head, wipes Draco’s tears, and kisses him. It’s not one of their best kisses, Draco sniffles in the middle of it, and Harry’s pretty sure that there’s snot in his mouth, but it’s still absolutely perfect, because it’s the two of them standing together in the middle of Harry’s bathroom at some wretchedly early hour in the morning.
When they pull apart, Harry swipes his thumbs across Draco’s cheeks again and says, “I get it.” At Draco’s raised eyebrow - and, oh, what a joy, to see Draco’s dearly loved prickly little personality pushing through his tears - Harry reminds him, “I was crying earlier tonight, too.” He shrugs. “It can be overwhelming sometimes, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t amazing.”
Draco scrubs the towel across his face once more, then fits himself to Harry’s body, pressing his face into the spot between his neck and shoulder that he had been kissing earlier that evening. Draco’s nose presses into a tender area, and Harry thrills to consider that he might have a bruise there in the morning, and can’t wait to avoid all of Draco’s attempts to heal it with magic, instead letting it linger for days as a reminder of tonight. Maybe, he thinks nonsensically, he could even get a tattoo there, to preserve it for all eternity.
“I woke up and wanted to wash my hands,” Draco says out of nowhere, the words slightly muffled against Harry’s skin, “and when I saw myself in the mirror, I just. I don’t know. I guess I thought that maybe I would look different, afterwards. Which, I know that’s silly, but I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to see. And I couldn’t tell if I looked different or not. All I could think about was how I must have looked to you-”
“Absolutely gorgeous,” Harry interrupts, and Draco laughs a little before pressing on.
“And then I was thinking about how you looked at me, and, and, and you love me-”
“I do,” Harry says,
“-and,” Draco’s fists tighten against Harry’s back, and he can feel the material of the towel Draco is still holding move against his spine. Draco pulls back slightly, and looks Harry in the eye. He’s a bit of a mess, with his cheeks a chaotic pink and his eyelashes spiky from tears, but once again Harry is certain that he’s never seen anyone more lovely, “and, Harry, I love you too,” he says, and possibly some other words after that, but those are lost into Harry’s mouth, kissing him thoroughly before lifting him up, letting Draco wrap his legs around Harry’s waist, and carrying him back to bed.
When Harry wakes up the next morning, it’s with Draco curled around him, his face pressed against Harry’s chest, and the bathroom hand towel, which Harry now realises is the novelty Celestina Warbeck one that Draco got him as a joke, squashed under his armpit. It’s so strange, and so perfect, that Harry wants to laugh. It’s all just really good.
68 notes · View notes
beanghostprincess · 4 months
Note
Bughawk is soooo underrated and it makes me so sad. Please tell me you see how grand this vision is
I am personally more of a Shuggy/Crocobug shipper but that's mainly because Mihawk isn't doing it for me much?? I love him and his gold autistic eyes staring into my soul and his classy attitude and vampiric looking aesthetic, but I wish he had more screentime to figure out his personality better and enjoy him more. But I do like him! I swear! And tbh one of my favorite ships is Cross Guild, like, the three of them together, even if I have a bit of a preference inside of the trio. I do love them and tbh I think Mihawk and Buggy's relationship would be really funny to explore. Especially within the fanon portrayals of the characters because god forbid Oda gives the cool edgy swordsman more than three minutes of screentime and more than five words per episode.
Okay, so doing a mix between fanon and canon and "whatever the fuck I want to see these characters as because I am the princess of this blog and I can do whatever I want": I think their relationship is fucking hilarious.
Unlike with Crocodile, Buggy doesn't really know what to do with Mihawk. Crocodile at least is easy to read and he's usually the one to make the first move, but what the fuck is Buggy supposed to do with the swordsman sitting in front of him, legs crossed and staring into his soul like he's about to bite his neck and suck him dry. Scary. And also very hot. But mostly scary. But turns out Mihawk is like, way more peaceful than what he thought. He likes reading. And classical music. And swords in a very weird obsessive way that the clown should not speak about. And not much, honestly. Cooking, too, apparently. Buggy keeps learning new things about him every day and the guy opens up little by little, because even if he's quiet, the very few words he says speak a lot for himself. He's also a fucking sadist and loves teasing Buggy all the time to the point of making him cry of frustration, but, well, when he's good he's really nice to be around <3
They both have history with Shanks. You know the movie "The other woman"? The one about this girl who discovers her boyfriend is married and then becomes besties with the wife and start hating him together? That's the energy I'm getting from this triangle. Stop making Mihawk cry over Shanks not loving him and a past love!! Make him go "Oh. Yes. Red Hair and I had something. Pretty sure he still felt something for you, clown, so I am not happy about that" / "What?! Why would you be angry at me for Shanks' shitty feelings that have absolutely nothing to do with me, by the way, our thing ended years ago when his stupid-" / "No, no. I am referring to him. Moron. I like you" / "You do???'' / "Sometimes. Sort of. Maybe. Your existence confuses me". And then they start dating because nobody can tell me Cross Guild isn't just a poly relationship doing business together.
I think Mihawk likes Buggy because it gives excitement to his boring life and also he's fun to bully. Besides, he's more than what he looks like and he actually has a dream and pirate spirit, so maybe he's not as useless as he used to think. He's still annoying, yes, but oddly comforting. Mihawk can't quite figure out what he wants with this clown, so he just sticks around with him. Buggy is like a chihuahua. A very loud chihuahua. Mihawk is definitely a black cat. They don't match. At all. Not in the slightest. And yet, Mihawk likes his company. And Buggy actually loves seeing all the soft and interesting sides of Mihawk and realize that he's not as scary as he looks like. I mean, he could slice him in half if he wanted to and he's still scary and hot but, y'know, he has a very domestic side that Buggy likes.
Thinking about them being established is pretty sweet because I think Mihawk would like reading out loud to him and Buggy would make the funniest comments about the story. And they would cuddle. And it would be so uncharacteristically soft of them and it's something they only do in private. Crocodile stares at them from the corner of the room and,,, He likes having them there. He's not alone and it's kind of sweet.
Also overprotective Mihawk with Buggy my beloved. In the sense of: He cooks for him because his eating habits suck. He makes him go on walks and do a bit of exercise. He makes him read, too. Listen to music that it's not only commercial pop or circus music or musical/Broadway tunes. He takes care of the clown when he's not bullying him. I think Mihawk treats Buggy like Sharpay Evans treats her dog.
And following the Shanks thing to end this post: Bughawk is really cool because I think it would break Shanks' heart and I love angst.
58 notes · View notes