#LORD asking for requests was the right call i feel so much better now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

festivalsofmargot · 1 year

Note

how do you think Ominis, Garreth, and Sebastian would react to a jealous reader being jealous because someone else was being flirty and asking them to the Yule Ball?

The 3 Boys & Your Jealousy

{Garreth Weasley/Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}

Word Count:

Garreth: ~ 1500 words

Ominis: ~ 1700 words

Sebastian: ~ 1400 words

Warnings: Kissing, Fluff, Angst

Author’s Note: Lord, I’m having so much fun with these requests. Thank you, anon!!! I tried to make them all have different reactions to reader getting jealous, but I know they’d all secretly love it lmfao. So it’s a little similar, but it’s definitely the 3 boys enjoying it in their own way. Have a fun time, everyone 🥰 Hope you’re all having a good day ❤

Songs (if interested):

Garreth’s song: You Stupid Bitch - girl in red

Ominis’ song: Silence / akiaura - hentai boys, akiaura

Sebastian’s song: My Kind of Woman - Mac DeMarco

Garreth:

“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?” Garreth Weasley had come up to you and asked. For someone who was asking if something was wrong, he could look a bit more concerned. Rather than just munching on his apple, looking at it like it was the only thing that had his full attention.

You took a deep breath and rubbed at your temple roughly. You were overreacting and you knew it, but dammit you couldn’t help but hate him at the moment. “No Garreth, I’m just not in the best mood today.”

“Well, talk to me.” He plopped himself down on the Central Hall fountain bench next to you. “Some have called me a good listener.” He took another bite of his apple, obnoxiously loud.

“Not right now. Why don’t you go bother someone else?”

“Who else could I bother like this? You and I got a good thing going.” He haphazardly joked.

“How about your date to the ball? That’s a good place to start if you ask me.”

He furrowed his brows, trying to decipher what you were talking about. Then he remembered Samantha Dale had asked him to be his date the night before. “Oh! You know about that? How does word travel so fast in such a huge castle?” He wondered aloud with his mouth full, looking at his apple as he turned it in his hand.

Merlin, you didn’t know why you were so head over heels for Garreth Weasley. Something about his carefree, aloof attitude made you fluttery all over. You wanted to smack him just as much as you wanted to kiss him.

Truth be told, you were convinced he was going to ask you to The Yule Ball. But once you saw Samantha Dale talking with him about it and seeing how big his smile was, you became so frustrated with yourself for ever thinking such a thing. How could you have been so wrong about his signs? You shouldn’t have assumed your flirty banter together was something special between the two of you. You had no one to blame but yourself.

“Look Garreth, I’m pretty busy. Samantha will be better company than me today.” You took out the essay you were halfway finished with and began writing, hoping he would take the hint.

He was about to take another bite of his apple when the pieces came together in his brain. You think I said yes to Samantha... and you're jealous.

It was hard to keep calm when he felt so elated. He had been pining for you since 5th year and never had the courage to confess his feelings. Being with you as a friend was better than risking not being with you at all. But here you were, acting as green as his eyes. Becoming jumpy, he scratched the back of his head and looked away from you, trying to bite back his delighted smile.

“So...” He began as casually as he could, “You don’t like the idea of me going to the ball with Samantha?”

You stiffened. Am I caught? You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I don’t care who you go with, Weasley.”

You used his last name instead of his first, that was how he always knew if you were upset with him. In this particular moment, he took a dark pleasure in it. “Well, it sounds like you care a little.”

You looked up from your essay to the marble floor in front of you and clenched your jaw, trying to calm your irritated nerves and stop yourself from saying something you’d regret. “It doesn’t matter if I care. Go with who you want.” You went back to your essay.

“But you care.” He slid closer to you so that his thigh was touching yours. Your whole body tensed and you shifted your leg away, disgusted at his brazenness to continue flirting with you when he was going to the ball with someone else.

“I’m going to work in my room.” You pulled your belongings together and left your place next to him.

Garreth got up and followed you easily, finishing the last of his apple and tossing it in a nearby bin. He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth to wipe off any apple juice. Maybe he could wipe off his idiotic smile while he was at it too.

You could feel his chest practically against your back as he followed close in pursuit. “Leave me alone, Garreth. I’m really not in the mood today.” You growled at him, but he didn’t let up.

He took glances around as he kept up with you. Once he was confident no one was looking, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into a nearby, empty corridor.

“What are you -”

“Tell me you’re jealous. I want to hear you say it.”

His words sent your mind through a whirlwind and you shoved him away. “You got some nerve, going to the ball with Samantha and going after me like this -”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake! I turned her down. School gossip failed to mention that part, I see.” He interjected. “Now let me have this a little longer.” He stepped closer to you, daring you to push him away again. “This thing where you want me all to yourself, I think I really like it.” His words came off as a jest, but he was genuinely aroused.

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to determine if he was being truthful or just trying to keep up his flirty banter with you. But your icy glare at him through your lashes only made him more feral rather than intimidated.

“I -” He cleared his throat, regaining composure. “I’ve been looking for you all day so I could ask you to the ball, but you kept dodging me.”

“Garreth, if this is some sort of messed up joke where you try to get two dates to the ball -”

“It’s not. But, that is a fun idea.” He quipped, hoping it would lighten the mood.

Sighing, you turned on your heel to walk away.

“Sorry sorry sorry, bad joke, bad time.” He grabbed your wrist, panicked. “But I’m serious about taking you. I really want to take you.” He swallowed thickly and held your wrist in his hand. “Would you... want that too?” As he waited for you to respond, he had started stroking your skin with his thumb, unaware he was doing so.

His hopeful look along with his tone had managed to convince you he was being truthful. This was the first step either of you had taken beyond flirty banter, and it had you finally soften to him that day. You looked at his hand on your wrist and adjusted so you could entwine your fingers through his. His heart nearly burst out of his chest. Was this finally happening?

You looked up at him then, but locked on his lips rather than his eyes. Heat formed in his abdomen at your gaze. He used his free hand to cup your jaw. The dark look in your eyes told him you had the same severe craving for him as he did you. He eased towards you and brushed his lips over yours.

He pulled back to gauge your reaction. You looked at him with wide eyes and for a brief moment, he thought he had messed up and taken it too far. But all that panic went away when you dropped your books and threw your arms around him, seizing his lips, taking all coyness between you two and throwing it out the window.

Your sudden burst had rocked him both physically and mentally. Gripping you back, hard and fast, he steadied himself, stepping on your essay as he did so. He matched your eager mouth movements with just as much intensity.

Needing to come back up for air, you pulled back. You looked at each other, breathless. All that tension between you two through the years had finally been able to get released at least somewhat.

“You looked so happy when Samantha asked you. I assumed you said yes.” You told him, still catching your breath.

He hadn’t realized you had been there to see Samantha asking him to the ball. He was both sorry you didn’t catch him rejecting her and sorry you had to catch it at all. Merlin only knows how he would have handled watching someone else asking you. “She’s a good friend, I mean I wasn’t going to scowl or laugh her off. I was letting her down as easy as I could.”

“I’m sorry I was jealous.”

He kept his face close to yours and glanced back at your lips, ready for more. “I’m sorry I enjoyed it.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I’m not.” He captured your lips once more.

Ominis:

Ominis was in a full on panic. He hadn’t the faintest idea what he had done wrong. He may be blind, but he could sense, clear as day, that you were upset with him.

He was pacing back and forth in his dorm room when he was supposed to be at dinner. The sickness he felt had made it hard for him to want to digest anything.

He had been up at all hours of the night thinking about how he was going to ask you to The Yule Ball. But every time he tried to approach you that day, you’d take your leave. He thought he would have gotten his chance in History of Magic class, but everything seemed off. You usually tried to sit close to him and brush your fingers along his, it excited him each and every time. But today, he felt as if you were sitting as far as you possibly could from him.

He was trying to think back on everything that happened before you became so drastically distant. The last time he remembers you two being fine was when he had finally built up the courage to ask you that morning.

Sebastian had pushed him to do it and fueled his ego to prep him, affirming that he saw the way you looked at him and how you weren’t so subtle about it. He was filled with so much joy, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling like a buffoon when he went to talk to you.

“Ominis!” You had greeted him so cheerfully, it had removed any doubt in what Sebastian told him. As he was about to greet you back, Adelaide Oakes had touched his shoulder from behind to grab his attention. She then went on and on about how she fancied him, and took the ball as her chance to finally tell him how she felt. He had never been so overwhelmed with romantic attention in his life, it only fueled his confidence more. His words came out in a stutter to Adelaide to thank her but decline. It was difficult to turn someone down while grinning like a fool.

“I um - I'll leave you two to it.” He heard you say before he finished speaking with Adelaide. Your footsteps behind him had walked away so fast, he would have believed it if you were running. And ever since, for some reason you’ve been... oh. It hit him then. You must have assumed he was going to say yes to Adelaide. You couldn’t possibly be jealous, could you? If you were, he needed to find you and fix this immediately. But damn him if he wasn’t a bit thrilled at the idea.

He had his wand guide him to the first place he thought you could be in, the astronomy tower. It was late in the day, he was sure you’d be there. As he made his way up, he found his excitement at your jealousy swelling. You weren’t jealous because he was a Gaunt, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, going with someone else. No, you were jealous because he was Ominis, a boy you liked for who he was, going with someone else. Or so you thought.

When his wand brought him to the astronomy tower and sensed you were close, he felt a bit of pride that he knew you as well as he thought he did. But he steadied himself, remembering you were upset with him. Coming at you beaming probably wasn’t the best approach.

“Ominis? What brings you here?” Your voice was monotone, nowhere near as pleased to see him as you were earlier.

He was relieved you were willing to speak to him rather than run off. “I needed to talk to you. Figured you’d be up here.” He approached cautiously.

You furrowed your brows, wondering what he could possibly need you for. Oh you’d just die if he wanted to ask for advice on how to treat Adelaide well at the ball. You turned away from him and lazily looked through your telescope. “Probably best we talk tomorrow.”

“You’re upset with me.”

You peeked up at him briefly, knowing it wasn’t fair to be, then went back to your telescope. You exhaled, inwardly chiding yourself. Ominis doesn’t owe you anything. “I’m sorry, I’ve just... had a lot on my mind.”

His wand guided him to the railing you were near and he leaned himself against it. “I’m all ears.” Part of him wanted to clear everything up as soon as possible, but another, increasingly louder part of him wanted to hear you confess that you were jealous, confess that you didn’t want anyone else to have him but you. So, he dared to play coy a little longer.

“You don’t want to hear what I have to say.”

“Try me.” The way he said it had taken you aback, as if he was telling you, not asking you, to talk to him.

“And what if I don’t want to tell you?” You looked back up at him, a bit of venom coming through.

He took a few steps towards your voice. I think I like this game. He knew he shouldn’t find your jealousy this exhilarating, but he did. He wanted it to absorb you until you couldn’t stand it anymore.

The look on his face stirred something fierce in you and you tried to take a quiet, calming breath. You hoped he wouldn’t hear you doing so, but he did, and it only added fuel to his fire.

“I don’t hear you walking away, so I think you do want to tell me.” He reached out for your robes and pulled at you to come closer to him.

You had been weak for Ominis Gaunt since 5th year, so you obliged. But you didn’t do so without internally screaming at yourself for being such a fool.

Despite being so close, you kept your hands to yourself, he noted. But he could sense your body tensing and he knew you were close to talking. He just needed to hold out a bit longer, push you just so in the right direction. “You’re angry with me, tell me why.” He knew why.

“I shouldn’t be angry with you.”

“Yet you are.”

“I am.”

“Tell me what I’ve done.”

“You... haven’t done anything.”

His grip moved from your robe to your waist, he could feel you shift at his touch, but you didn’t pull away. “I have, tell me.”

“You know, you shouldn’t be up here with me alone, touching me like you are. Wouldn’t want Adelaide or me getting the wrong idea, would you?” He could hear the bitterness in your voice, and it was sending him over the edge. You shoved his hand away and went to the railing, leaning forward and looking out. “I don’t think you mean to, Ominis. But you’re really messing with my head. Looking as happy as you were when Adelaide asked you to the ball, and now you’re here acting like you care for me.”

He followed your voice again and came up behind you. His hands found your shoulders and he comfortingly slid them down to your biceps. His touch still had the same, nerve-racking affect on you. You shrugged him off and turned to face him. He put both hands on the railing on either side of you, trapping you in. “I do care for you.”

As a friend. You wanted to finish for him. Him saying this to you knowing he was going to The Yule Ball with Adelaide hurt. Ominis was the last person who should be comforting you. “I need to go.” You nearly choked, heartbreak constricting your throat. But Ominis kept you blocked in, he wasn’t going to let you leave.

“Tell me why I’ve upset you.”

Being in this position with him had an inferno swirling in you. Being able to see his pale, blue eyes this close had any fight in you vanish. “I wanted... you to ask me to The Yule Ball today. I wanted you to go with me, not Adelaide.”

He leaned forward towards your neck and brushed his nose along your skin.

Your melancholy turned into something else at his touch, something more throbbing. You reached your hands up along his chest, felt his heartrate pick up along with yours. “I want you to be with me.” You confessed in a whisper.

He began to kiss at your neck and you fisted the fabric of his uniform to keep yourself upright. He kissed up your neck, along your jaw, feeling his way to find your lips. He got to the corner of your mouth and pulled back just slightly, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I want you all to myself.”

He crashed his lips into yours. Your hands held tight to his shirt to keep him close. He took his hands off the railing to wrap his arms around your waist, his place against your mouth feeling all the more secure. You nipped at his bottom lip and he couldn’t help but let out a throaty “mmh.”

He often tried to imagine what it would feel like to kiss you, the taste of your lips, the sensation of your hands roaming him as pretty as you pleased. This moment had been better than anything he conjured up in his head. He had never envisioned how much hot need would be in it until he had you there in his arms.

You tried to push him away suddenly, but he kept at you, not yet having had his fill. “Wait -” You caved for a brief moment and kissed him back, then pulled away again. “What about -”

“I said no to Adelaide.” He went back to your lips, then to your neck to explain himself so you’d stop pulling away. “I was going to ask you. But you ran off.” He hoped that was enough to stop any further questions, because his mind was already onto more pressing matters. He had heard that sucking on someone’s neck would leave marks, he decided to try it on you then.

You bit your lip, trying to keep your eyes from rolling into the back of your head. “You um -” You cleared your throat, “You still want to ask me?”

“I will, but let’s not talk right now.”

Sebastian:

“What has gotten into you today?” Sebastian caught you off guard, shutting the greenhouse door behind him. You were tending to the carnivorous plants for Professor Garlick, you being the only student she really entrusted with such duties.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, then brought your focus back to the plants. “I’m a little busy right now, Sebastian.”

He had never heard you speak to him with such acidity, you might as well have slapped him in the face. You had been in a sour mood with him all day. Of all the times for you to be upset with him, why did it have to be the day he had finally decided to confess his feelings and ask you to The Yule Ball? He strode to your side and bore his gaze into you, willing you to face him and explain yourself.

You didn’t give in and continued tending to the chomping cabbages. Sebastian was the last person you wanted to see. After everything the two of you had gone through, all the glimpses you gave each other, all the near kisses, how could it not mean the same for him as it did you? Was his overprotectiveness for you something brotherly rather than romantic? You felt so stupid having mixed the two. You had fallen so deeply in love with him through the years, and now you’ve come to find he doesn’t see you in that way. He made it very obvious how smitten he was when Grace Pinch-Smedley fawned over him, professing her love and asking him to the ball.

“At least tell me what's upset you so.” He said sternly, interrupting your tragic thoughts.

You knew you should wait until your anger dissipated before speaking with him, but in that moment you didn’t care. You set down your gardening tools and turned to face him.

“How about we talk about you first, Sebastian?”

He let out a frustrated exhale through his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. “What about me?”

“I saw you and Grace speaking this morning, seems you were quite pleased with yourself. Care to share?”

He quirked his brow, not sure where you were heading with this. He remembered Grace speaking with him, but he didn’t remember feeling ‘pleased with himself’. “You saw Grace and I, did you?”

“I did.” You turned back to the chomping cabbages then. “Seems she was doing more than just asking you to the ball.”

He inwardly cringed at the memory. He was flattered at her confession, sure. But the part where he had to reject her had really taken away anything pleasant about the moment. “She told me she had been... harboring feelings for me.” He got shifty thinking back on it, getting rejected after spilling your guts like that must be dreadful.

You took note of his body language, and rosy cheeks. It was salt in the wound and the scowl on your face deepened. “No need to be so bloody bashful about it, Sebastian.” You mumbled.

He stilled then. You thought he was ‘bashful’ thinking back on his interaction with Grace? The gears in his brain started turning.

In that moment, you figured this was your last chance to lay it all out there for him. Since Grace very blatantly told him she wanted more than just a date to the ball, best to tell him how you felt now before they were officially together.

You turned to him fully. “Sebastian, do you care for me?”

His heart began racing and he straightened. “Of course.”

“Like you care for Anne and Ominis?"

“I do.” He said with conviction.

“So, like a sibling?”

“I - Well, I -”

“Because I don’t care for you like a brother, Sebastian.” You took a step towards him.

He was entranced, listening close to everything you had to say. The air between you two grew thick and it clicked for him then. The possessiveness he usually felt over you was now what you were feeling over him. You were under the impression he accepted Grace’s feelings... and you can’t stand it. A rousing sensation shot through him. He wanted to see what more you would do with this newfound greediness for him.

“Perhaps you should have gotten to me before Grace did.” It was bold. He knew he was treading on thin ice, but seeing you act in the way he usually did was a turn of the tables he never knew he wanted to see. He was going to egg you on, get as much of this avaricious side out of you as he could before you devoured him like the plants in this room wanted to.

You reached out to him and began trifling with his tie. He stood perfectly still, afraid that if he moved you’d get discouraged and release him. “Are you telling me you would have been mine if I got to you first?”

Oh yes. “Suppose we’ll never know, considering you didn’t.” This wasn’t at all how he thought confessing his feelings to you would go. But this was a much more electrifying way to do so.

The two of you had unknowingly stepped closer to one another, pulled together like magnetic stones. Your hands were no longer fiddling with his tie, but rather holding it, ever so gently pulling him towards you. “So I’ve lost you, have I?”

Fight for me. Don’t let anyone else have me. “And if you have?” He wanted to find out what your lips tasted like more than he ever had before. He was so close, and eyed them oh so hungrily. But he tried to hold strong a bit longer, so he could know if you were feeling just as carnivorous for him as he always had for you.

The fire in your eyes almost had him on his knees.

Claim me. Claim me as I’ve claimed you.

Giving his tie a hard yank, you pulled him to you and caught his lips with yours. You didn’t waste any time, straightaway tasting his bottom lip with your tongue. Keeping an unyielding grip on his tie, you shot a hand up to his hair and held tight. He put his hands on your hips, and couldn’t stop himself from pulling at your shirt so it came untucked. His hands roamed around your lower back, under your shirt to feel your skin.

Your movements in this kiss were the result of years of pining. There was both an ache to take it slow, feeling everything you both possibly could, and an urgency to make up for lost time right then and there. Now that you finally had him... Wait wait wait, I don’t have him.

You tore yourself from him and walked away, tucking your shirt back in.

“Wha - What? Where are you going?” He was breathless and dizzy and disheveled from your kiss. Get back here.

“Go to Grace.”

He groaned. He should have known keeping up the Grace ruse would have some sort of consequence. But in the moment, he was so obsessive over the fact that you wanted to stake your claim on him, he couldn’t help himself. “I lied about Grace. I turned her down.”

You turned to face him, still keeping your distance across the greenhouse. “Why would you -”

“Because being near you makes me crazy, that’s why!” He shot a hand through his hair, more out of anguish than to fix the mess you made. “I’m mad for you. How have you not noticed? This... possessiveness you have over me today? I feel it for you all the time. So, I’m sorry if I crossed a line, I -” He let out a shaky breath, trying to put the words together. “Seeing you act how I have... I wanted to relish it a bit longer. Forgive me.”

You remained where you were, but he could see your features shift. “Enjoyed my suffering, did you?”

Trying to keep his composure, he nodded his head. Your sultry look had his blood heading somewhere it shouldn’t in the middle of the greenhouse.

He may have been slow catching onto your jealousy, but he was quick to catch that you wanted his lips back on yours. Ravenous himself, he strode up to you and pulled you back against him.

#sebastian sallow imagine #ominis gaunt imagine #garreth weasley imagine #sebastian sallow fanfiction #ominis gaunt fanficiton #garreth weasley fanficiton #Sebastian sallow x reader #Ominis gaunt x reader #garreth weasley x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #ominis gaunt x mc #garreth weasley x mc #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley

4K notes · View notes

callme-holly · 3 months

Note

hiii! can u write headcannons for the greasers when you are on your period?

𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝 [𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐝.]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - So sorry for my inconsistency when it comes to requests - I'm not working in any particular order but I will get to them all eventually! Anyway hope y'all enjoy and as always asks are still open for requests

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 901 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - none

Darry Curtis -

Darry would be so caring towards you, oh my lord.

If you need something, you best believe he is going to get it for you, among many other things.

If you’re suffering with bad cramps, he will gladly lay with you and hold you for as long as you need him to.

If the boys are bugging you in any way, shape or form, he is telling them to lay off and keeping you as far away from them as possible. He knows how annoying they can be first hand and the last thing you need right now is them all up in your face.

He will come home from work during his breaks just to check on you and make sure you have everything you need; heat pad, blankets, snacks, entertainment.

Sodapop Curtis -

Much like his brother, Soda is super caring and sweet.

He will go out and buy you everything you could possibly need; chocolate, medicine, you name it, babe, he’s getting it for you.

Will take hot baths and showers with you after work.

This boy will cuddle with you all day if that was what you wanted, hell, he’d take the day off work just to spend time taking care of you.

If you’ve got cramps, he feels super guilty. He hates seeing you in pain and hates knowing that he can’t help you even more.

Strongly believes that kisses will “cure” you and will shower you with attention until you’re feeling slightly better.

Ponyboy Curtis -

Pony doesn’t know much about periods other than the fact that you can get pretty damn moody.

He tries his hardest to understand what you’re going through, but eventually he freaks out and has to ask Darry for help.

If you need him to get you something, he will go into the store with the full intention of buying only the items you requested only to panic and buy almost every single product he could find.

If you’ve got bad cramps, he’ll do his best to make you feel better. He’ll do whatever you need him to do but, in the end, he’ll just lay down and read to you until you fall asleep.

Johnny Cade -

Johnny is the sweetest.

He gets so concerned about you and hates seeing you in any sort of pain/discomfort.

If you’re sad, he’s sad.

You want him to get you something? Medicine, chocolate, blankets? No problem, sweetheart, just sit tight and he’ll get it in no time at all.

If you’ve particularly irritable, he tends to stay out of the way for a little while. He doesn't wanna upset you and he also doesn’t wanna get yelled at by you.

He’ll cuddle with you for ages. When I tell you he isn’t letting go until you do, I mean it.

If you’ve got bad cramps, he’ll lay with you and rub your stomach until they pass.

He’s also not opposed to running you a warm bath if that’s what helps you.

Dallas Winston -

When I tell you this boy knows nothing about periods, I mean it. His knowledge is very limited; he knows you get pretty moody and that’s about it.

He’ll try to stay out of your way the best he can because when you’re on your period you kind of scare him.

Once you snapped at him for being a pain in the ass and he never tried to bug you again. Instead, he went to find the gang and was like “damn, women can be scary sometimes, man.”

He definitely showers with you but for all the wrong reasons.

If your cramps are particularly bad he’ll get you blankets and will sit with you until they pass.

Either that or he’ll panic and call Darry. He does not know how to deal with this shit.

Is definitely the type of person to say “can’t you just hold it?”

Steve Randle -

He’ll either take you to work with him or take the day off so that you’re not alone.

He’ll let you sit in his lap whilst he rubs your back and presses soft kisses to your lips and forehead.

He’s actually so sweet to you.

Will gladly feed you chocolate cake (he might steal a few bites too).

Much like Soda, he has no problem taking hot showers with you if that’s what helps you to relax.

He will bring back whatever you want from the DX, just ask him and he’ll get it for you.

If your cramps are particularly bad, he’ll just hold you until they pass. His comforting skills aren’t the greatest but he tries his best and we love him for it <333

Two-Bit Mathews -

He tries to stay out of your way if you’re particularly irritable. He learnt the hard way not to bug you when you’re on your period and he vowed never to tease you again.

He’ll cuddle up with you on the couch and you two will just watch TV together.

Much like Steve, he has no problem feeding you chocolate cake, although he might end up eating the vast majority of it.

Will pepper your face with kisses, claiming that it’s the only cure to your discomfort.

If your cramps are bad, he’ll get you a heat pack and will do anything in his will to make you feel better. It doesn’t matter how ridiculous your requests may be, he will do it for you.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

491 notes · View notes

louebel · 8 months

Note

Hi! Can I request fluff Law x fem!reader where reader is feels sick but tries to ignore it/do things on her own (she’s not used to ask for help) but as a doctor law easily can tell by the signs and it happens during their sea journey on the polar tang? Hope I’m not asking too much love ya 🥺

Feel free to add angst or anything else to your writing ^•^

this is super old and the only request i'll ever do (atm) since i had a wip— ANON SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER <\3 reader is gn since i used the second person and no description.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: trafalgar law × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 6,124 wc. a bit angsty, ends with fluff, emotional reader for the sickness, law is bad at emotions. this turned longer than expected, i hope it's decent xdd hit me up if there's any mistakes lol. supposed to be called windows of the soul,, divider by @ benkeibear my lord and saviour. 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: sickness overtook your body and worsened your already pitiful situation. law has been ignoring you and you have no idea why... but with how you felt, there was no way you could confront him at the moment.

scrub, scrub, scrub...

"... phew ..."

scrub... poof!

"Oh! — damnit — aargh..."

Cleaning today has been a nightmare. Never been so tedious.

Like, it was already uninteresting compared to all the other things you could do, but today it was ten times worse. You could bear it, seeking to make dusting shelves fun by humming some random tune to yourself. It was okay, something you had to do every once in a while. You could do it.

If only you weren't sick.

"Achoo! Achoo! — urgh... Achooo..! Damn."

You began feeling like this some days ago, or so you told yourself as you delicately hunched down to the floor, hoping to grasp the yellow sponge soaked in foam and water without experiencing excruciating pain. However, your hopes soon shattered as your back screamed in agony and your legs trembled with soreness, almost giving up on you.

Just the flu, you insisted, it would go away. A couple of sneezes mean nothing. You would feel better and all would go back to the ordinary.

... Oh, how wrong you were! And how stupid for not getting a day off.

You were capable, though! You counted on your immune system (it sounded heroic the first time you thought of that). One night is all you needed.

Or not.

"Ow, ow..."

You should've told your captain. Sure, it would cost your courage, pride, and dignity, but at least you'd be cured. You'd rather die than tell him you got sick because of the one herb he instructed everybody to avoid.

What's worse is that he's been rather distant, and he's unquestionably avoiding you. The way he shoots daggers — no, whole machetes in your direction every time you do anything, smart or not, is so clear even the crew can see it. And the worst part? You do not know why.

It had been like this for a while now, and you detested this whole plight with passion. Everything was okay between the two of you, you were sure of it! What did you do that spurred such a reaction? From one so dear to you?

Those sweet memories...

From new findings you excitedly presented him, to revealing himself, his past and adventures to you after almost a year of sailing. You knew everything about him. He knew everything about you.

So why? Why stop so abruptly? You didn't mind when he digressed about his newfound coins. When he murmured under his breath while he pored over medical books or mulled about a particular topic. When he stressed over labor and called for a brief break, where you or the crew would attend to him by delivering him a meal or helping when he wasn’t looking. He's so stubborn.

"Uurgh..."

From captain, to Law, to captain again. Not to mention how he deftly stopped you from hanging out with him. You thought he needed space at first. Maybe he was tired and had to rest for the next few days. That’s alright. However, your thoughts deteriorated as the days passed. But well, right now it's better if he doesn't see you at all. Nor the crew‌ — oh, the damn crew. Those two.

The "two" being the pair of nitwits that constantly stand by law's side and grin at you. Seriously...

You do not understand what Penguin and Shachi find so amusing about your situation with him. It's a tragedy, not a comedy. You love them both, truly, the minute you stepped into the polar tang they were the first ones to get you to open up and all, but goodness, you wish you could beat them for sitting there, cackling and clapping their hands while confiding some mysterious comments to each other when la — the captain, showed up in the area and walked past you with an unreadable gaze. He'd constantly salute you and the others with a bow of his head or more, depending on his mood.

Now? If he saw one inch of your form?

Sigh. His face always went red.

Why can't those two just tell you? Even Ikkaku seemed to know something you didn't. She was more subtle about it, though. Jean Bart wasn't slick either. You could see him smile from a mile away. Hakugan and Clione? Shachi and Penguin 2.0, except they hid behind Jean Bart. The rest pitied you instead, sometimes patting your back — sometimes shaking their head almost in disbelief. Oh, and Bepo gave you suspicious smiles! Every time he tried to say something to you, those two animal hat-wearing goblins silenced him. Did they just want you to suffer?

And if they did want that then their curses were working because even after grabbing the sponge (almost losing your temper as it slipped through your gloved palm twice) and straightening back to an erect pose, your head was still banging with fervor, muscles barely reacting.

If only you could snuggle with the fluffy, warm mink right now. A bitter sigh rushed past your lips at the thought.

Those two were just so mean. But Law was much meaner — the captain, the captain... Yes, the captain. That... That dummy.

You groaned and shook your head while forcing your wobbly arms to scrub the table, exhausted mentally with this never-ending train of thoughts and these fanciful fists leaving invisible bruises all over your poor body. Not to point out those hands pinching your brain like dough...

Just — you... Goodness, what was it he suddenly despised so much? The submarine felt like home. It was home, especially when he joined you. Now when he does, he — the aura he emanates is intimidating, yet everyone is either unaware of it or not affected by it.

What made him so resentful? You can barely say anything when he strides into the place, too panicked to learn how he would perceive you or talk to you if you go on. It's like you're back on step one, isolated, too scared to be yourself with your family. Because of one man who's supposed to be the head of it.

Being you felt like a sin when close to him, as if he preferred the private variant of who you are, and shunned your curious and spirited self. You could understand since he’s rather closed off and well, in a certain aspect you are too, but — did he not like you at all? Was it all an act to not offend you? He didn't seem to dislike your vivid reactions initially, or your foolish gestures when nearing a fresh island. You were often silent, smiling and listening to others converse, but when around your companions, you easily liked to open up since it was the only time you could do so. And they were more than just that. You entrusted all the members of the heart pirates. They meant everything to you. Even him, who stopped including you.

Ugh...

You wished it could all go back to normal.

This disease enjoyed fumbling with your previously scrambled sentiments. Law did mention it brought a high fever and emotional susceptibility. You didn't consider it'd be this severe.

"... Okay, I'm done."

You certainly weren't, with your bed unmade and furniture still dusty; floor imploring for a good wash. However, with the croaky voice you had paired with your runny nose, you doubted you could do more. Even if you did, it'd be better not to.

You peered down at the bucket full of water that probably smelled better than you at the moment, ignoring the small puddle beside it made by your poor handling sponges skills. Grimacing, you decided to leave it where it was in case carrying it back turns out to be a challenge. Hopefully, Ikkaku can provide you help later.

Looking around, your droopy eyelids dimmed your perspective and further provoked you as both exasperation and exhaustion mixed and boiled in your gut, room so messy it mirrored your current state. You didn't know what was irritating you more: the light of the lamp or the disarray you resided in.

Howling dejectedly, you turned and plodded to your bed, opening your arms, ready to throw yourself on the mattress. The more you sleep, the sooner you'll get better. Yeah, you're so brilliant. You closed your eyes and —

knock knock.

— reopened them a second after, remaining immobile for an extra few before glowering at your door, contemplating whether to go open it or linger to determine if they'd leave. Hmm.

You waited.

... knock knock.

Fantastic.

You gritted your teeth, drawing a profound breath to settle your nerves, haywire thanks to the hellish illness. They didn’t deserve to withstand your rage, but who knows, maybe by seeing your shape, they'll show sympathy and tell you. That could work.

Okay.

You sluggishly trudged to the door, not bothering to adjust your unbuttoned pajamas and faking a cheerful facade. You hoped your face didn't look too awful, but you couldn't care less right now.

Gripping and twisting the knob, you pushed it open, greeting them with the feeblest voice you've ever had, your sore nose making it unthinkable to inhale air. You rubbed the back of your head while doing so, eyelids closed to evade any light.

"Yo, Penguin, Shachi, how can I—" the words automatically came out of your coarse and blazing throat, opening your eyes a bit to look at... them...

Then you saw a tattoo. And more tattoos. No white, poofy boiler suits in sight.

By barely seeing light before, you tried giving yourself mercy, but now you were only slaughtering yourself to make sure the person in front of you was, well. Him.

Your jaw fell while your brows lifted in consternation, but shortly returned down thanks to your declining headache. Your pupils then scaled the mountain of mass before you and arrived at the peak. Another pair of eyes.

Cool, gray eyes. The ones that just a week ago welcomed you with compassion and comfort. Now they drive you to wither away from this world. Even if you look up to them. (Hehe, get it? man, you're so silly, wow.)

"—help … Captain. Uh, hello." and there goes your comfort zone.

You tried swallowing down air but got pounds of mucus down your stomach instead, curved posture closing up even more in his presence, ashamed to be seen in such a weak state, instantly regretting not managing your appearance as his gaze scrutinized you from top to bottom, probably displeased with how you presented yourself..

You looked everywhere but at him. He only looked at you.

Envy spurted from the plant’s toxins. How could he focus on one thing and have so much confidence to stare at someone without breaking eye contact at all? If you do the same for longer than two seconds, it feels like whoever looked at you has seen your entire personality, life, darkest secrets that you didn't really have, closest people to you — everything in poor words. The windows of your soul, perpetually agape.

How does he keep them closed? Why can't you seal them at all? Why?—

"—so care to explain the meaning of this?"

"Huh?"

You stupidly stared at him, blinking and glancing at his shoulders, then back at him to break whatever spell he put on you, not able to concentrate at all.

Barely could you see the annoyed expression on his face. You hoped he wasn't dealing with excessive stress. Making him feel worse was not your intention.

"I said, care to explain what this is? You look... terrible—" you cringed at that, "—and you haven't come out of your room since this morning. Do you have any idea what time it is?" His scrutinizing tone made you want to crawl under your blankets and stay there forever, but his patronizing gaze didn't let you.

You could merely fidget with your fingers and glance back at the floor to relieve your worries, which mixed with pain, fatigue, and dirtiness. You called for sleep so badly.

"I'm—I'm sorry, Captain. I, uh, I didn't—" sniff, "—mean to skip my duties. Sorry."

His brow creased in suspicion at your raspy voice and poor shape.

"Is that so? Look at me while you say it." if his words weren't menacing enough, his tone was too. He knew you couldn't do that. Especially now.

"Uh..." you unconvincingly whispered, continuing to play with your fists, until rubbing your nape once more, shuddering at how chilled your hands were compared to it.

Your actions were, again, spotted by him, and if one more thing occurred, then he'll be correct.

"Well? I'm waiting."

"..."

Sighing exasperated, you raised your head to look into his pupils once again.

Unbeknownst to you, he already confirmed another of his impressions while taking a further view of your sullen visage.

"I, uhm, overslept, Captain. That — that happens sometimes, yeah? Sorry about that. I'll—I'll..." stopping for a moment, you squinted your eyes and scrunched your nose while the man before you attentively fixated his stare on your frame and—

"Achooo!" —covered half of your face whilst he recoiled back at the loud sneeze you let out, not expecting it at all. He blinked, then you sneezed again, and again. Streak of three.

If your voice and glossy eyes already told everything to the doctor, the continuous sneezes only reinforced his thesis.

You exhaled haplessly as he sternly said your name.

"You're sick." his firm and coherent words could not be fooled. Your fate was sealed.

"...Yeah." at this point, you didn't care. He was gonna scold you, nothing you could do about it. You could only hope he'll do that after you're cured because right now, you could barely stand still without shivering. You were sure if he wanted to do something he would have already, so he definitely will have a talk with you after you're healthy.

"Why?" you've been proven wrong so many times this morning — afternoon. Evening? That you don't know what's gonna happen next.

You stared at him numbly, almost done with everything.

"What do you mean 'why'? I don't, I don't know. Probably our... Ugh, our last stop, isn't that obvious—"

"Not that. Why didn't you say anything? To the others? To me?"

If it wasn't for your head beating incessantly and the aching of your tendons ruining everything, you would think this was a dream.

You kept gawking at him like a goldfish. His timbre wasn't as stern as it regularly was. It was a bit, just a tad bit lower. Like, barely. His eyes were softer, and if you met the man yesterday, you wouldn't be capable of identifying his mood. It's because you knew him for so long that you could distinguish it.

"I..." you mumbled talks under your breath, awfully feeble to maintain the discussion, barring your eyes and hitching away when Law planted his freezing hand on your forehead. You fussed in protest, although it didn't last long.

"You're cold... Off."

"My hands are perfectly fine. You're burning," he interrupted you, stating the obvious. But you were far too deep to listen, fatigued.

"Yeah... M'sorry." you nodded while deliberately looking down in shame, almost dropping to the ground out of fatigue. Everything seems hazy, the pressure in your skull fading, while the breaths you took were meager.

Something skimmed over your shoulder and nape — ah, his fingertips — palm carefully tilting your head back up. Your mouth hung open, and you attempted to focus on your captain's facial features and the iconic hat to not fall asleep.

"It's fine." But his gentle approach and mellow maneuvers set you in a soothing trance, where you couldn't do anything other than auscultate him.

It’d be an exceptional moment to speak up about these last days, his odd actions.

"It... It is? You, ah... You're not..." but you struggled to do so, chest too heavy to speak. He narrowed his eyes, striving to make out what you were saying, but it was all incomprehensible to him.

"I'm not?" he urged you to proceed, getting closer — he felt warm. Wasn't he cold some seconds ago? Ah, he’s draping his coat over your shoulders, so, so cozy, — and holding you as if you were glass. Why was he holding you? It felt nice, undoubtedly nice. Oh, you were going to fall, you think.

“Hey—hey. It’s okay. I got you. I got you.”

Cradling you in his arms, Law cursed and crouched down, snaking an arm under your knees and sweeping you up, a short "there" slipping from his tongue, keeping you close to his breast. Naturally, you snuggled close to the source of heat, losing consciousness, unaware of your surroundings, his distress, and jogging to the infirmary.

“Hey. Keep your eyes open. No, no, open—yes, yes, like that. Good job. A bit more, then you can go to sleep, alright?"

While nodding lazily when he said your name again, you curled up for more warmth, and he mellowly followed your movement, hefting you up and pressing his lips upon your forehead, his frown deepening at how high the temperature was. He needed to administer medicine quickly.

"Law …'m sorry if I smell."

He scoffed. Thinking of such idiotic things was exactly like you, sputtering them out so bluntly. Rolling his eyes was natural at this point.

"That's my last concern. We'll think of your scent and hygiene later. Don't speak. Shh."

So stupid, so stupid. He should've confronted you ever since you left the island. He should've. It's been a recurring pattern these days. He couldn't see you because of his work but spoke with the others at breakfast, lunch, dinner... They all grew concerned about your distance. Uni shared that it began right after the departing... He knew something wasn't right with you, he could feel it.

Back in that inhabited location, he quickly took note of your drooping posture and fatigued breathing. He wanted to ask about it, but the following days, you acted normal, and Law thought you were queasy because of the heat.

Then he got busy checking on the crew's documents, medicine supply, the damn broken scope Hakugan sadly reported, bounties, news — and something else. He managed to give a check-up to everyone but you. It was mandatory after leaving an island.

With you evading him and him doing the same, this happened. Great. He could only hope it wasn't contagious.

... Wait.

He gritted his teeth in sour realization — Not once has he seen you in the halls or dining hall. No one mentioned you, either. Have you eaten anything at all? Oh, you imbecile.

He palmed your skin through your suit, easing your laments and whimpers, walking through the hallways of the Polar Tang and reaching the infirmary. Kicking the door open while lulling you a bit, shushing and fluttering his eyelids at your sick and quaking form.

"There we go. Shh, I know, I know, it's awful."

Uplifting the blankets, he quickly covered you and began searching for his equipment, rustling and metal clicks tangling with your whines.

"U- uuh... W- where..?"

"I'll be there in a second. I'm here."

As he said that, he quickly came back to you, already stirring medicine in a cup. He had to give to you before you blacked out or fell asleep. Sliding a hand under your back, he carefully pushed you up, gaining a groan from you; you sounded so tired. Tipping your head forward, he brought the rim of the cup to your lips. You were delirious, could barely see or feel, but managed to follow his direct instruction to "open". The first glass was tasteless, fresh... water.

The second tasted awful.

"E—eugh..."

"A couple more sips and we're done. Come on, you're doing good."

Once you drank it all, with a small praise from Law, he gently laid you back down, about to check your vitals. He knew you were in no condition to do as he instructed, it would be all him. Idiot, idiot...

Just looking at you made him guilty. He never saw you this awful. However, what truly pushed him were your next phrases.

“Do you feel better now..?”

Low and dry, they all were. He halted his movements, his hands in the bag, shifting his attention to you.

Your question puzzled him.

Feel better? Him? He was fine. Perhaps you thought the disease was contagious? No; you would've phrased that diversely. His forehead creased, slightly tilted to the side.

"What?"

“I … I missed you."

And as clear drops cascaded down your cheeks, his limbs froze, a bittersweet ache striking his chest.

"I—I thought I did something wrong … I’m sorry … Should've told you. 'M sorry ... really...”

Shit.

“No, no, don’t be. It’s alright, don't—don't speak. You did nothing. Shh...”

And if you stayed conscious for some more seconds, you could've seen those severe pupils mitigate. The windows of his soul open up; the "stern" gaze he preserved for you withering in an instant at your vulnerability.

All he wanted to do was clear that up. When, now..?

“I—I’m the one that should’ve apologized, damn it…”

"Aargh..."

Warm.

"Mmh..."

It was very warm. Pleasant.

"Hn..."

The boilersuit felt different. Heavier, and not … poofy. Hm.

The pillow was so nice, though...

You sought a better position under the comforting and amiable regime of your blanket, squinting your glistening eyes as if sand had struck them; eyebrows knitting in distaste and discomfort, choler cramming up your insides — but not for long, extremely achy and sleepy to lament.

Shouldn't it be easier to relax now that you are tired? Shifting left and right left your muscles throbbing. The peace you could achieve in your dreams was all you begged for. But no, you just had to rise two more times in the span of minutes or hours.

When you woke up the third time, someone surprised you. He was perching on a chair near the infirmary's bed, head, presumably about to doze off. An encyclopedia of vegetation and exotic environs sat in his palms and dotted jeans, the cover made of green-coloured leather, firm to the touch.

He looked peaceful.

"... Law?"

Your lashes fluttered at the fierce shudder that rocked his frame, the textbook about to fall, his eyes snapping open and rapidly darting up to you.

"Oh. You woke up. Good. Good evening."

You were mad at him. You were mad at him.

His lips were indubitably moving. Whatever he was saying, you were not listening. Something about being out for hours, but you were too out of it to pay attention.

And looking down at your body, your eyeballs almost popped out of your sockets at the sight of... Not your boilersuit.

"I'm in my pajamas?"

"And — hm? Oh. I changed you." Pause. "With my devil fruit, of course. Obviously. You were way too hot in it."

"..."

Pause number two.

"I'm hot?" You bluntly said,

"Not in that way." And he quickly retorted, bashful. You immediately got gloomy.

"Oh..." You and Bepo were alike. He couldn’t help but sweatdrop.

"No, no, no, don't — you look fine. That's not what I meant."

A hoarse chuckle ripped from your sensible larynx, a noise that he hadn't heard in a while. His back loosened at your jovial note, the pressure applied on the envelope of the manual lessening.

There was a superb illustration of the flora you accidentally whiffed.

"You inhaled it, didn't you?"

... Silence followed. Then a sigh.

"A simple allergy with a sore throat and emotional instability in the first phase caused by the pollen, weakened muscles and headache in the second, and heightened senses, nausea, and worsening of the body in the last one. You felt them all."

Quick and precise, each symptom he mentioned appeared throughout the weeks you boarded on the Polar Tang. He hit the mark. Glancing at him from the corner of your eyes, you nodded sheepishly, feeling hot in your cheeks.

"Y—Yeah."

"I thought I mentioned dodging those peculiar red flowers. I don't expect you to recall the name, but to avoid it. Thankfully, you only inhaled its pollen, or else you would've been in this bed the moment we departed."

"O—oh... That bad?"

"No, not really. The symptoms would've developed quicker, but nothing dangerous. Perhaps you would have slept over two days, as all cases do when encountering this allergy," He narrows his eyes at you, shutting the book and crossing his long legs, his foot jouncing. "Not at all fatal, only worrying when the patient in question mentions nothing about the symptoms and overworks themselves.”

“Hey—”

“You're fine."

A small huff left your lips, nodding lazily. Nothing was uttered after from both sides. Occasional groans from yours. Only then he spoke.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"..." The answer was simple. He immediately found the illness yet couldn't pinpoint the cause of this? It was almost ironic. Your quietude wasn't taken well.

"Well?"

"... You ignored me. You made it clear."

And he was faking ignorance. That glance, his attitude. You knew him too well, but had no energy to call him out.

"I—I didn't."

"Don't play coy, Law. Did I do something? Even the others know. Penguin and Shachi told me. I—"

You paused when he raised his hand, glancing at it in confusion, then back at him, twice or more. He sighed and dropped it back on his thigh again, using his other one to rub his temple in distress.

"You did nothing. I don't know what... Shachi and Penguin said," You tilted your head at his peculiar manner of quoting them. "But I've got nothing against you."

He stopped rubbing and lifted his head to check on you again and you were unsure of what to say. His brows wrinkled the tender skin of his forehead, severity, and minor unease painting every fiber of his appearance.

You just... didn't know.

"Really? Then why those weird stares? Why leave the room the moment I come in? I mean." you flailed your hands around, looking everywhere as if you could find an explanation. "You never behaved this way, Law, not with anyone. I... It was fine before, right? Let me ask again, did I do something wrong?"

"Of course not!"

At his hasty exclamation, you blinked, uncertain why he became as rigid as stone. Palms back on the blanket, you awaited an elaboration of his thoughts, observing his adumbral face to detect any key to figure out what caused him to alter his ways with you. However, his hat, which you've always appreciated for its fluffiness, turned out to be an issue. Those eyes you've grown so fond of refused to meet yours.

You just couldn't get it. The surrounding air grew an intoxicating no romance book would mention, one that did the contrary of setting your heart aflame, that poor muscle of yours.

If he explained, it would've been easier.

"Okay, 'of course not' ... Sure—"

"We are not having this conversation. You need rest."

He briskly cut you off, and your heart felt constricted. The words felt bitter upon both of your tongues, so bitter and revolting, they made his jaw clench and your eyes water. You weren't having it. Absolutely not.

"I feel better now, thank you, and I say we're having this right here." You pushed, ignoring how he clenched his tattooed fist.

"No—"

"Yes, Law! I don't know what I did, but if it bothers you, shouldn’t you tell me? There are things we can all miss."

The pang in your brain was still active, and you had no patience nor strength to argue. Either he spoke up or you'd go straight to sleep.

"I... You did nothing that bothers me."

His speech was almost a whisper, a low rumble, and were you in your regular state, you'd feel sad to see him like this. Law had no trouble speaking up— perhaps with apologies, or admitting to be wrong when in the midst of a conversation. Maybe something genuinely bothered him. But he'd tell you, wouldn't he? He had to.

But you weren't the only one who had to consider the consequences. He also had to do his part.

"... And?" you encouraged him, to gain something, something that would lead you both to that damned thing you were both chasing, that ounce of understanding.

“And—and what?" alas, it served another wave of blistering dissatisfaction down upon the membranes of your boiling stomach.

He couldn't be serious.

"... Whatever. I'm going to sleep."

"What?"

You detested how you were feeling, a volcano of passions, the pounding in your skull, and the heat, and the ludicrous, nagging insecurity, all these wretched, gristly sensations shoved in your mouth and scraping your gullet, such a relucting and squalid dish, contaminating your palate and inflaming the gums of your teeth.

But all Law could see was how your eyes moistened and reddened, the crinkles at the corners of your mouth, the contracted tissues above your nose.

You couldn't feel how his heart plummeted, either. Again, he caused you to cry.

"Hey... I—"

"No, Law, no! I said leave! You ignored me for almost two weeks and now—now you're just..!"

Perhaps you were being a bit too "dramatic" for something you could solve with a modest exchange, something that, compared to all the obstacles you and Law went through, was a sheer grain of dust in your shoes. Yet you erupted for the frustration, the plant's effects and that nameless thing you'll bring in your grave, for if he knew, he'd probably pity you.

Maybe, just maybe, he should've kept ignoring you. If solely to dim that warmth. The glow in your eyes that only sparked with him.

"I don't mind if you need time. I don't mind if you're busy or whatever, that's obviously fine! But can't you tell me? Is it that hard? Instead of treating me like a stranger? Just—just, just leave..."

Your snotty voice seemed ridiculous, resounding through the infirmary alongside your sobs and sniffles. Vision tarnished by your tears, staring at the ceiling with resignation. It alarmed Law, whose emotions were already scattered; unnerved, anxious.

He couldn't take seeing you like this. He couldn't.

"That’s not it! I... I just — I..!" His broken explanations fell as your cries didn't stop; spasms traveling through your frazzled nerves. He swore under his breath, getting up and coming to you, standing close but so, so distant. His fingers jerked, impatient to wipe your tears, to calm you down, to assure you everything was alright, and this was all on him.

"What..?" you meekly whimpered, gazing at him as he appeared in your sight.

"I, I..!" if only he could express himself. You'd figure out. If only he could, without buckling and tearing apart at the weight of his own feelings.

"... You what, Law?"

It was tough to see with all those tears coating your scleras, but... His lips quivered. His jaw tensed.

His hands craved yours.

"I like—I like you!"

... You wondered if illusions were part of the symptoms. Your eyelids were all but relaxed. Popeyed.

"There. I said it. I mean it. Seriously. I—I think I love you."

You could feel his frantic grip, slightly pulling the blankets in his direction, tense as him. You've never seen Law so … jittery with you. Perhaps when he slowly spoke of his past, or when his plan failed.

"I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I... I was confused. I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't... No, okay. I, I love you, but you don't have to reciprocate, really. ‌I just wanted to clarify that I wasn't—"

This was different, however. Not the same vulnerability, nor agitation. That teetering edge coating his sayings, not at all close to those instances.

"... Law."

"—ignoring you, I mean, I was, but I just couldn't face you, you know? I didn't know how to act—"

That glow, those feelings. The twinkle in his eyes Bepo mentioned when you spoke of something that fascinated you, that rare grin on his lips, and that sweetness, the swelling in his chest, and the red, and the breath of fresh air, and the intoxicating romance books loved to talk about...

Those tints blooming in his cheeks. The faint relaxation of his defined brows. How he covered his pretty, vulnerable self.

He's no different from you. Oh, oho ho, no, he wasn’t. Only now did you realize.

"Law."

"—but I missed you so much, I missed your presence, being with you, I—"

Your heartbeats matched.

"Law!"

You understand now. The definitive yell induced him to quit his blabbering, and eventually, he found your gaze. Those windows were not locked at all. Not marginally, not halfway. They were fully open. You could see him.

"It's... the same."

It was all you could utter. His jaw loosened, and you could recognize his wide, stormy irises.

"Huh? Wh — what?"

"I feel the same way, Law. I—I love you too."

Yours were open, too. They always were- yet he never acknowledged what dwelled inside. Two fools you both were.

"... Oh..." and a breathless whisper was all he could offer.

The silence dissipated. A delightful warmth occupied your rib cage. The pressure was gone.

All is back to normal.

"If... If you weren't sick. I'd kiss you." He mumbled, and his lips looked more luscious than ever. He shouldn't have said that. Now it was even harder.

"P—pfft... Of course, of course. Can you come closer, at least?" you pouted, giving him the best puppy eyes you could muster. “Pretty please?”

"... Fine. It's — not contagious, anyway," he huffed, his cheeks a light pink, and he sat on the margin of the infirmary's bed, hustling just a tad bit closer...

Closer...

"Closer?"

"Alright."

His ears grew pink at your giggles. Your fingers graced each other, "DEATH" entwined with you. His hands were lukewarm. Long, slim, calloused in some places, but also tender to the contact. His metacarpals were partially discernible, defining the shadows. He took care of his nails, ensuring they were cut short, although they appeared slightly, just somewhat lengthier than usual. Not considerably, however; they were still short.

How you missed holding it.

"Sorry, by the way. About everything." Squeezing his hand, you attempted to show him what it meant to you. He squeezed it back, brushing the top of your hand with his thumb, a pensive and solemn look on his face.

"No- I should apologize for not saying anything sooner. I neglected and avoided you. I … I don’t know what to do. You know I’m not the type for relationships.”

You hummed in acknowledgement, but weren't as worried as Law. You'll wait. Nothing would change.

“Mmm. I can wait for you, Law.” Saying it seemed to take him off guard, as if he hadn't thought about it. Or, rather, didn't expect you to propose it. In his head, it seemed silly because it's him. If you were to ask in his place, he'd also wait.

He felt lighter.

“… Truly?”

“Yeah. We can figure it out together. Like we always did. I’ve loved you for years." He inhaled deeply, your words buttery and sweet. "I’m fine with waiting longer.”

Thinking you wouldn't accept, if he asked, was stupid of him too. Of course you would. Of course. With another squeeze, he nodded, and turned his head away from you a bit.

His eyes glistened.

“I’d like that. Thank you.”

You smiled, too, saying nothing in return.

He can take all the time he needs.

After some days, everything went back to the typical routine. The first thing you did was knock Shachi and Penguin's heads, (supported by Ikkaku) and since Hakugan and Clione were on duty, you couldn't do the same for them.

You puffed your cheeks and enjoyed chewing the well-earned treat you snagged from the kitchen, reorganizing boxes since this morning.

"Tired?"

Peeking at the door, a smile adorned your mouth at the sight of your captain leaning on it.

"Mm, there were a lot of them."

"You could've asked for help. You know I don't want any of you to strain yourselves with tasks."

"I had it. Don't worry. Although..." another bite. "I miss it."��

"Hm?" he crooned, tipping his head forward. "Miss what?"

You gazed into his eyes, "Miss getting pampered by you when I was sick." lovingly observing how they enlarged a bit before returning to the stoic stare he always wore, swaying his head to dismiss your remarks. The chambré tint on his cheeks was as clear as day, like his light smile. Not that you'd tell him, he'd immediately disregard it.

"... Meet me at my office once you're done."

As he turned his back to you, his boots making clicky rumors with each step, your smirk amplified... After all, who could wait to get coddled by none other than their favorite captain?

#law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece imagine #trafalgar law #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x you

767 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

Text

Winter's King 17

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: I have a house now. One more month until move in.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You leave the queen, stepping into the gales that whip around the outer flap of her tent. You reach to keep your cap from flying into the violent winds, the soldiers with their chins down as they lean against the force. Before you can gain your bearings, a shadow appears and calls your name, battling the weather to be heard.

“Eh, where is your cloak, silly mouse? You will blow away with the leaves,” Bryce approaches, latching onto your arm as the bluster swirls around you, nearly taking you off your feet.

“I am fine, sir, I only need find a blanket,” you stumble against him as another willful gust pushes you around.

“That isn’t what I asked. What has happened to it? You’ve lost it?”

“The queen was cold, sir,” you answer and cling to him, shivering as the tempest swirls around you.

“The queen... greedy...” his voice trails off as her sneers towards the tent.

“Sir,” you touch his arm gently to calm him, “she needs it more than I. She is expecting the king’s child.”

He looks at you and juts out his jaw, “aye, s’pose you’re right, even if you’re too kind for yer own good.”

He turns you and grips you tightly, shielding you as best he can against the wind. Your progress is slow and stunted by the sudden ebbs and flows. He grunts as you stagger and steadies you, at times almost lifting you off your feet.

“Sir Bryce,” a deep voice slices through the whistle of the winds, “a storm approaches.”

The king nears, his sword gripped by the pommel as he leans it against hit shoulder. His golden eyes flick towards you, as if he had not seen you in the shadow of your escort. He raises his chin and returns his attention to the soldier. He angles his blade to the ground and the tip buries in the dirt.

“Aye, it surely does,” Bryce agrees, “I’ve seen a worst tempest in my years.”

“Sir,” Geralt holds out his hands and a glisten appears on his sleeve. You lean in without a thought, curious, then feel a cold speck on your nose. You look up and see the white flakes drifting down. “It will not remain so peaceful. It comes from the north and will deepen by morning.”

“Shall we wake the camp?” Bryce asks and you sway with the wind. Once more, the king’s attention strays to you, he frowns.

“Not as yet. Let the horses rest a little longer. They will be able to handle a dusting,” he affirms. “but I will harry the men to prepare for our departure.”

“As will I. I’ll be certain the carts are covered and weighted.”

“Sir, ever wise,” King Geralt praises and scowls at you. He shakes his head and huffs, “why does the maid wear no cloak? She will not survive in this, summer soul, she is.”

“Aye, yes, I was only just telling her as much. Seems her heart is too big for her thin hide,” Bryce tuts, “we were only off to find her a blanket before she sleeps.”

“Blanket, eh,” the king lets go of his blade, letting it stand in the ground. He unbuckles his collar and sweeps his cloak from around his shoulder, “I have my hunting cloak and I don’t mind the snow so much.”

Before you can react, the king lays his heavy cloak over your shoulders. It is longer than your height requires and it smells of sweat and iron. You lower your head at the warmth clinging to the lined wool.

“Your highness, many thanks, but I might find a blanket--”

“Do not defy your king,” Bryce rebukes, “mouse, you would do well to accept his grace. You will certainly need it if these winds do not pass.”

“Apologies,” you utter, “sir, your highness, you are both generous.”

King Geralt grumbles and nods, looking once more to the sky as he grabs his sword.

“The Ridge, Vulture’s Peak... it isn’t far. The castle will do, eh?”

“Not far at all, your highness,” Bryce agrees. “It would do you well to let your wife rest. Many congratulations, my king.”

“Congratulations? For what? Smelling a storm?” the king furrows his brow.

“Oi, I think I’ve said too much,” Bryce glances at you.

“Say more,” the king commands. The soldier sighs and sheepishly shows his teeth.

“Please, maid, would ya...” He mutters.

“Your highness, the queen said she is with child,” you swallow, “I only just came from her tent. I believed you were aware. I did not mean to gossip.”

“Child,” his eyes sink and close. He hums and heaves a deep breath, “yes, she would need to be still a time.”

“Your highness, again, you have my apologies--”

“No matter,” the king waves his hand. “Take the maid, I shall see to my wife.”

The king resumes his path onward, sword in hand. He hardly shares in Jazlene’s cheer for the news. Perhaps it is only the threat of the storm that has him unhappy.

You bring your hands to the dark fur along the collar of the cloak and draw it snug. You chatter and Bryce clucks. He nudges you and you walk forward in step.

“So the snows have come,” Bryce declares, “along with the heir. I sense many storms brewing, mouse. Best keep our eyes on the horizon.”

⚔️

You don’t sleep for long, if at all. Only the shallow dregs of your anticipation. You watch the snow fall from beneath the canopy and as the horses are roused and fed before dawn, a carpet coats the ground.

You peer down at the powder. You wonder what it feels like. Cold and wet, Bryce says, but don’t dirty your soles, you’ll be soaked. He remains, as ever, cynical.

“Be off soon,” he says as he brings Daisy around, a thick coat over her back and haunches.

“To Vulture’s Peak?” You ask.

“Aye, so we will,” he pets Daisy’s snout as she sniffs him. “though our host may not be so fond to have us.”

“Host? It is not the king’s castle?”

“Ha, no, no,” Bryce laughs heartily, “a king can’t live on a desolate bluff. By fealty, a lord must break bread and offer a roof to his king. It might be his company which has him facing a cold welcome.”

“Oh,” you frown.

“Ah, even this old coot won’t deny us in the coming storm. He has sense of these better than any,” Bryce shrugs. “Don’t worry your head. You stay in your cart and Daisy will do the rest. She’s a fine climber--”

“Out of my way!” The curdling snarl interrupts the soldier and you both look to see the source. “Move, by gods, I am the queen, be away from me.”

You get to your knees, leaning on the edge of the wagon to see out from under the canopy. A scatter of bodies split apart as Queen Jazlene struts through, the fur cloak rippling from her shoulders and the hood set back on her head as her curls spill out. She sneers at the snow beneath her slippers.

“Ah, I did hear there was a cart around here—ugh, out,” she points as she marches up to the cart, “by royal right, I am seizing this cart.”

“Eh,” Bryce moves closer, “your highness, the king--”

“I cannot sit a horse, sir,” she rests her gloved hand over her stomach. “Or would you murder the future prince with your selfishness. All for a--” she pauses and glowers over at you, rolling her eyes. “A maid?”

You rise and snatch up the cloak you’d used as a blanket. You keep bent under the low canopy and climb out with the cushion under your arm.

“Sir, the queen is right, she should have the cart, I will sit with the luggage.”

He huffs and sends a grimace to the sky, unable to direct his malice towards its source, “if she must...”

“I must!” The queen snaps and yanks the pillow from your hands, “I will need this, certainly.”

You stand aside, staring at the pillow dolefully, and buckle the top of your cloak. The queen pauses as she faces you. She looks you up and down.

“Where did you find this then?” She touches the collar of the cloak.

“It is my spare cloak,” Bryce insists before you can answer, “what else do you require, your highness? Shall we bring a lamb to sacrifice?”

“Hm, is that how you northerners worship?” She sneers, missing his irony.

He blinks dully and says nothing.

“Well, secure the horse, I will need to be drawn.”

“It is my horse,” Bryce insists, “you may bridle your own.”

“You dare deny me?” She snarls at him as the soldiers with her stand on either side of the cart.

“You may take it up with your husband. This is my steed, she carried me to war and she will carry me henceforth,” he snips.

Bryce and Jazlene glare at each other. You look between them nervously. You don’t know who King Geralt might choose in this battle should he be called.

“Fine, fetch the stinky thing,” Jazlene demands of one of the soldiers, “and blankets, another pillow, perhaps something to eat.”

The cast of the sky shifts with the first light of the sun and Bryce grabs both horses and leads them aside. He whistles for you to follow. You come to him as Chestnut and Daisy cluelessly puff into the cold air.

“You will ride. I will not have that... queen seizing my horse,” he sniffs, “I will show you how once I’ve saddled the mare.”

“Oh, yes, sir.” You look up at the horses back. It seems very high.

“You will want to be aback anyhow,” he shrugs, “you’ll not want to miss the mountain. It is very beautiful, especially in the snow.”

⚔️

The party continues onward, treacherously. As the snow falls, the train diverts away from the flats and onto the narrow paths speckled with broken trunks and towering trees. The smell of pine tickles your nose as you ascend, bit by bit.

It takes some time to grow used to the motion of the horse. Daisy’s hooves are certain and she does not slip on even the most precarious spots. Bryce rides behind you, booming about each nook and cranny, pointing out the white rabbits and the wilted fauna. His enthusiasm is unexpected but endearing.

You ride until the moon replaces the sun and dismount along the side of the great cliff. There is no room here to pitch a tent and only a few fires burn along the ridge. Your hips ache as the soldier grunts about his back.

“I should see to the queen,” you suggest as you rub your hands together.

“She must have many fawning over her,” Bryce spits out a wad of leaves and squashes it under his feet.

“I am her maid--”

“And we are on a long road. She might go without you minding her temper,” he snarls.

You frown, “I am not upset. She needs the cart more than me.”

“It isn’t that which sees me chagrined,” he growls. “It’s those deeds you will not admit of that traitor’s daughter which make me prickle.”

You’re quiet. You look away, your eyes wandering up into the sky, watching the snow swirl down, following it down to the ground far below. The heaps are immaculate in the moonlight and the trim of white along the ridge gleams.

“I am a maid.”

“I know little of your summer people but if that is how they treat those who serve them, perhaps this alliance was not so wise,” he grumbles as he steps up beside you, “perhaps it would’ve been better to submit such cruel nobles.”

“Sir,” you say, shocked and peer over at his profile. His beard has grown to meet his cloak, his hair coiling down to his shoulders.

“I serve my king, as I ever will, but I will not bend the knees to a snake,” he hisses and crosses his arms.

“We are united, aren’t we? Summer and Winter,” you reach to touch his thick hide mitt.

“Aye, yes, I do not seek another battle,” he exhales. “I am only wary of those who may.”

You squint. Your mind returns to Lord Dustan and what he said to his daughter. The heir is their prize, an affirmation of the bounty earned by their betrayal, but also a chain to that very act. To the man they forsook their name for. A man they speak as kindly on as they had their former allies.

“Might I walk?” You draw your hand from his. “My legs are sore.”

“Not too far. And keep your eyes open,” he girds, “and your hands in your cloak. You needn’t frostbite.”

You nod and he turns to you. He pulls up the hood of your cloak and pats your shoulder.

“Tarry too long and I’ll look for you,” he warns.

“Sir,” you shift slowly and step past him.

You trod higher up the incline as you marvel over the edge. Bodies huddles together beneath cloaks and blankets, nestling for warmth against the wall of the cliff. You carry on and stop near a luggage cart, close to the drop. You hold out your hand, letting snow gather in your palm. It is cold, bitterly and painfully cold, but so beautiful. You bring it closer and watch it slowly melt as your hand numbs.

“Do you remember...” the king’s voice drawls over you as his soft steps approach. “What I told you of this place?”

You look at him. He is lit by the moonlight, his golden eyes like stars, and his jaw is bristly with thickening stubble. You bow your head, “your highness, are the bears already asleep in their caves?”

He chuckles, “you do recall,” he praises, “not yet, though they do not come this high.”

“And the wolves? Are they near?”

“They are always prowling,” he says, shifting closer, his arm pressing to yours. He bends slightly to peer straight down, “the elk will be in the forests.” He points to the snowcapped tips of the distant trees, “here, the vultures have their nests. Their eggs,” he curves his hands to show the size, “I made a writ, years ago. It is forbidden to eat the eggs. I always found it quite tragic to desecrate the majestic creatures before they can even be borne. Before they can fly even.”

“Vultures? I’ve never seen one? They are... birds?”

“Yes, birds,” he confirms.

He is silent as he considers his kingdom below. His breath is gritty as it rises and falls. He has much to think on. A child, a wife, and his homecoming delayed by a storm.

“One thing has changed here, in these lands of winter,” he says lowly and you feel a ripple in your cloak. He presses his hand firmly to your back, sliding it along your side to grasp your hip. He moves to stand behind you and brings you close. He wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your crown, “I said before, there is no summer here,” he holds you, pulling his cloak around you, concealing you within it as he drapes himself around you, “summer is here. With me. Warm and gentle.”

You go rigid as he holds you, your heart beating at the unexpected embrace, at the unseemly contact between you. He hums as he stands with you in the shadows of the cart, so brazenly covert. Anyone might happen upon you and yet they all hide away from the storm.

“Your highness,” you stammer and quiver against him.

“Treasure,” he purrs, “my treasure. The one good thing I’ve brought home...”

You can’t breathe or think. Is he drunk? Confused? What does he mean?

“I--” he begins but the kick of a rock quiets him, the stone bouncing off the cart’s wheel.

A shadow stalks down the precipice towards you and the king detaches, uncovering you from his cloak. He faces the figure as the tramp up the incline. You hear the king shudder as he tickles your back.

“There’s the mouse,” Bryce says as he comes into the moonlight, his brow and jaw set, though he doesn’t look at you. He looks at the king, almost defiant. “You shouldn't be out so long in the cold. Exposed,” he grits, “come, I’ve sparked us a fire.”

King Geralt clears his throat, “thank you, sir.”

“My king,” Bryce says as he beckons to you, “I will keep the maid safe. As you bid.”

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au #winter's king #the witcher

309 notes · View notes

aemondtargaryenonlyfans · 6 months

Text

REWRITE THE STARS.

Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!Reader

Aemond arrives at your betrothed‘s funeral. And after being denied your hand in marriage once, he does not come to leave without you.

WARNINGS: angst? mentions of death, mentions of war, hinting at murder, kinda dark Aemond, female reader of House Baratheon (no mentions of appearance)

WORDS: 1.5 K

NOTES: Wow, feels weird posting something without smut lmfao. But… 👀 It‘s not mentioned, but someone particular and very jealous might have killed Lord Rosby, seeing that his House had deflected to the Greens at the very beginning of the war.

The body of your betrothed had not even been lowered into the ground by the time the enormous wings of Vhagar casted a dark shadow over the castle of Rosby.

He had been drowning in his own blood after being struck in his throat by a crossbow from one of the so-called Black’s, or so you have been told, and while the image of it had been quite unsettling, the funeral itself was not too bad.

Lord Rosby was many years older than you, and you had been betrothed not long before the war started. The Lord himself had asked for your hand in marriage, and with your father still having four more daughters to spare for any kind of political alliance, he had all too eagerly agreed.

Much to the disliking of the prince, who dismounted his large beast at this very moment.

He had convinced your father to support Aegon in the war of succession by promising to marry one of his daughters. You had been standing next to your father while your sisters stood lined up for Aemond to choose, and even after stating more than once that you hadn’t been free to marry anymore, the besotted prince had just reluctantly agreed to take the hand of your older sister Floris in marriage.

Marrying a young prince of a House as noble as House Targaryen seemed far more appealing than marrying an old lord of House Rosby, and for the short time Aemond had stayed in the Round Hall of Storm’s End, it seemed you two had shared the same resentment towards the man sitting on the throne right next to you.

The envy you felt towards your sister had been eating you alive, so much that you had requested for your belongings to be moved to the castle of Rosby just so you didn’t have to endure seeing her face any longer. That your betrothed was not even there at that time just made it better.

Now your father – and possibly you as well – had to experience the consequences of his pride and stubbornness first hand, it seemed.

Upon spotting the large dragon in the far distance, a few members of House Rosby had taken their leave to go into hiding, but you and your father stood strong, despite the risk of being bathed in Vhagar’s flames sooner than later.

For your father, it might have been the belief in his allegiance to the King, but for you, it was your House’s words, ours is the fury – and your fury was solely aimed at the man responsible for your misery.

The rustling and shuffling behind you indicated that the few people, that had remained at the funeral side, bowed to the approaching prince, their mumbled courtesies not prompting you to turn around.

“Lord Borros,” his voice was cold and calculated, dragging a shiver down your spine. “I assume you know what I came here for.”

Your father sighed, barely audible to anyone other than you, but even then you refused to acknowledge what was happening behind your back. It was not your place to speak, as you knew you had little say in the matter.

The steps of Aemond coming closer could be heard, his presence suffocating. "‘Tis clear that she is not to wed Lord Rosby anymore. He was slain in battle, and his death has rendered the marriage pact void,” he stated the obvious, not mincing any words. “I desire to take her hand in marriage now.”

“Lord Rosby is but a day cold in the ground. It is hardly fitting of us to discuss marriage before he is even laid to rest,” your father scoffed, the sharp edge to his voice causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand. “Besides, I have already given you the hand of one of my other daughters, Prince Aemond. Your House might do as it sees fit, but mine will not, and one wife is more than enough.”

At his bold statement, your body went rigid, more so as you merely heard Aemond humming in return.

After that, a short silence descended upon the courtyard.

“Do not allow your foolish pride to cloud your judgment, Lord Borros.” You raised a brow at that, curious to find out what direction this encounter was meant to take. “You will not gain anything by denying it.”

Not watching the moment the knights lowered your betrothed’s body into his final resting place, you turned around. Your eyes drifted from the ground up to the prince standing not too far away, his lips curled, and a steely stare solely focused on your father.

“Your other daughter is of no interest to me.” His face was unmoving, and his voice as sharp as a steel dagger. “I have made clear what I wanted when I first set foot in your halls, and now, I have come to take it.”

When Aemond turned his focus on you, you could feel his penetrating gaze weight over you, the intensity of his good eye being enough to make you shiver. Yet, there was something about him that lured you in, a pull that was impossible to resist. With the way his lips pulled into a smug smirk, you knew he had noticed the turmoil raging within you.

Aemond jutted his chin forward, addressing your father while looking at you. “I will take her with me with or without your blessing.” The cold determination with which he spoke had your blood running cold. “You may not have the power to deny me the chance to wed her, Lord Borros, but ‘tis your choice whether you allow it to happen in your halls.”

Gathering your thoughts, you raised a hand to stop your father from speaking even before he had opened his mouth, yet you averted your gaze down to the ground, not able to meet either of their gazes. “The war has already been harsh for the Stormlands and the entire Realm, father. I have seen men return, bearing corpses of husbands and sons,” you said, keeping your focus on the ground beneath your feet with your voice unusually stern. “If this is the only way to bring peace to our people, then so be it.”

You glanced at your father, and the scowl on his face was almost enough to make you retreat.

Ours is the fury, you remembered.

“The Lord Paramour of the Stormlands does not bend to the whims of some Targaryen–”

“Enough, father,” you interrupted him, your voice stern once more. “The Stormlands have been bleed dry, peace is what matters. If my hand is what Prince Aemond desires, he shall have it.”

Your father grunted in disbelief, not expecting you to speak against him and surrender so easily.

Aemond’s eye drank you in once more, and the smug smirk his lips had held before had returned, adorning his chiseled features. “Very well,” the Prince Regent declared, moving toward you with a hand outstretched. He intended for you to place yours in it, which you did after a second of hesitating.

Before he led you towards the beast waiting outside the castle’s walls, Aemond turned to look at your father one last time, the smugness fully taking over his stance and demeanor. “I suggest you start preparing for the wedding, my lord, that is, if you wish to retain the title you currently hold.”

The threat hung in the air, gagging you and making it impossible for you to breathe. You did not meet your father‘s eyes, for you were certain the disappointment flashing in them would burden you even more.

Silence surrounded you two on the walk towards his dragon, safe for the ‘you chose wisely,’ he had mumbled as you passed through the castle’s gates. These three words had your eyes widening, regarding the prince carefully.

There was a strange lightness in your stomach as you approached the looming presence of the prince‘s beast, happy and afraid for what was to come at the same time. Were you meant to follow the same tragic path other women that had married a Targaryen prince had taken? Or would your future look different?

An unfamiliar heat emanated from the dragon the closer you got, pulling you out of your thoughts. There was little time for you to adjust to its presence before your now betrothed urged you to climb the ropes leading towards the saddle on its back.

“I will be right behind you,“ he said, a poor attempt to calm your fluttering nerves.

With a bow of your head, you hesitantly reached for the thick ropes and started climbing the beast, the act itself proving to be a great challenge.

Aemond strapped you to the saddle, sitting behind you to keep you steady and supported while the dragon moved to ascend into the sky for your flight to King's Landing.

And with one look over your shoulder, you saw the castle of Rosby and its village disappear in the far distance.

You had yet to find out if you had made the right decision or not.

428 notes · View notes

larluce · 1 month

Text

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @hopeaha FINALLY STARTING WITH YOUR REQUESTS!! :D

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16 (You're here) , PART 17

In "The Dragon's Call"

Uther talking with Arthur in the throne room.

Uther: (warnly) Who is he?

Arthur: (mad and anxious cause Merlin was stabbed and he's not there with him) You called me all the way here just for that? He's Gaius' appreantice. He told you that!

Uther: Don't take me for a fool, Arthur. I'm asking who is he TO YOU. (looks at Arthur, sternly) It's obvious that you knew him from before.

Arthur: (thinking) Shit... (says) We... met just 3 days ago.

Uther: (increasenly raises his voice in anger) And you expect me to believe that you made such a tremendous display just for some peasant man that you've known for 3 days?!

Arthur: That 'peasant man' just saved my life!

Uther: For which I'm greatful... but also suspicious.

Arthur: What?!

Uther: He took a knife for you, shielded you with his body... and called you by your name. Yet you insist you've only known each other for 3 days. (pauses dramatically) I'll ask again. What is that man to you?

Arthur: (sweats)

Gaius: (enters) You called for me, your Majesty?

Arthur: (surprised) Gaius! What are you doing here? You should be attending Merlin!

Uther: (sarcastic) Oh, you know his name too. What a surprise.

Gaius: (Looking at Uther, but reassuring Arthur) The boy is stable. The blade didn't puncture anything vital, but it was poisoned. I managed to extract the poison thought, so he is out of danger now.

Uther: You told me you recently hired this boy as your apprentice, right Gaius?

Gaius: Yes, sire.

Uther: How long has he been in The Citadel?

Gaius: Just a few days, sire.

Uther: Are you sure?

Gaius: Yes, he just arrived 3 days ago.

Uther: And he has never been in The Citadel before.

Gaius: Oh, no sire. Merlin is from Ealdor, an Essetir village located on the border. He's never been in Camelot before.

Arthur: (smiles smuggly) See?

Uther: (still not convinced but lets the matter be for now) You shouldn't act so distrough about strangers, Arthur. I expect better composure from you in the future.

Arthur: (hangs his head in a shame he doesn't feel) Yes, father.

Uther: (to Gaius) Your ward deserves a reward for his heroic act today.

Arthur: (thinking) Finally!

Uther: I'll give him 20 pieces of gold.

Arthur: (thinking) What?! (says) No! You can't reward him with that.

Uther: You think it's too much?

Arthur: Too little! He saved your son! Your heir to the throne! Or do you really think that my life it's worth just 20 pieces of gold?

Uther: (thoughful) I guess you have a point. How do you think I should reward him then?

Arthur: Status. Gold is precious but it ends eventually. Status is forever.

Uther: You want me to lord him? I can't do that. He's a peasant.

Arthur: But you can give him a position, maybe? In the royal household?

Uther: Hmm... It's not a bad idea. I'll have to check if there's an avaible position-

Arthur: (quickly) There's one!

Uther: (surprised) Really?

Arthur: (smiling) Well... I still need a personal manservant.

Uther: ...

Gaius: ...

Time skip. Uther talking to a servant.

Uther: (incredulous) He really did that?

Servant: (who had to confess under pressure) Yes, sire. The prince paid me to act as a victim while he pretended to bully me.

Uther: With what purpose?

Servant: (nervous) I... I don't know, sire. He didn't tell me, sire.

Uther: But you have a guess.

Servant: ...

Uther: You can speak freely. Nothing will be hold against you.

Servant: Well... my guess is that... the prince wanted to... get his now personal manservant's attention, sire. The prince stopped 'bullying' me when he arrived and defended me.

Uther: I've heard. He also let the boy go unharmed after he insulted him. After calling him... What did he call my son again?

Servant: A... prat... and an... ass, sire.

Uther: I see... (sighs) You're dismissed.

Servant: (between surprised and relieved) Really? I'm not in trouble, sire?

Uther: No, you aren't.

Servant: And I don't have to give the gold back?

Uther: (opens his eye wide) He gave you gold?!

Time skip. After the events of "The Mark of Nimueh"

Uther watches the knights coming back from a trip all cover in leaves and mud at night.

Uther: Where do you come from so late? (looks at them up and down) And so dirty.

Leon: Ahm... The prince entrusted us with an important mission-

Knight 1: (exhausted) We're looking for a flower.

Leon: (hits him)

Uther: A... flower?

Knight 2: A purple lily, sire.

Uther: Is it a lily with healing properties? A magic plant that endangers my citizens?

Leon: Ehm... no, just a regular purple lily, sire.

Uther: So my son order you to search for a purple lily in the middle of the night.

Knight 1: And he's still searching for one too as we speak.

Leon: (hits him again)

Uther: May I know why?

Knight 2: I think he wants to gift the flower to-

Leon: To a woman! We think he wants to gift a flower to a woman, sire. Though it's just a guess.

Uther: Right... (thinking) What a fussy woman. (says) He could have sent the flower to be painted if he needed a purple one that much.

Leon: He insisted it had to be naturally purple, sire.

Uther: Painting a lily purple is a luxury only royal can afford. I'm sure the girl would still appreciate it.

Knight 1: We told his highness that.

Knight 2: But he still insisted it had to be naturally purple, sire.

Uther: (thinking) I very fussy woman indeed. (says) I'm going to talk with him. This is ridiculous. There's a reason why we prefer to paint lilies purple. It's nearly impossible to find one that is naturally purple. He is never going to find-

Arthur: (entering, all cover in mud and leaves and with a purple lily in an improvised container in hand, very excited) I found it! Leon I... (stops himself when he sees Uther and composes himself) Good evening, father. (bows)

Uther: (explodes at seeing his son's embarrassing appearence) That woman is too fussy, she's making you act like a fool! Is not like she is your fiancée. If for her vagary of wanting a naturally purple flower you stoop to acting slavishly like a servant then Camelot is doomed! You are the prince! How can you give this image? have dignity! What kind of ignorant, uneducated, vulgar woman are you involving yourself with?!

Knight 1: (confused) I thought the flower was for his manser-

Leon: (covers the knight's mouth)

Arthur: (to the knight, seriously considering making him kill number 2) Innprudance*!

Uther: (his right eye ticing)... What?

Arthur: (thinking, kind of concerned) Has he always had a tic in his eye?

Time skip. After Lancelot's imprisonment.

Uther scolding Arthur in his chambers.

Uther: (furious) You imprisoned a man just because he touched your manservant?

Arthur: No, I imprisoned him because he was found in suspicious circunstances.

Uther: What suspicious circunstances?

Arthur: The part of the woods we found him in was burned! There was still spots of fire there and a big hole in the ground! The earth was shaking just before we encountered him, that's clearly sorcery! He could be in alliance with Nimueh for all we know!

Uther: (incredulous) Right... and it had nothing to do with the fact he was caring your servant in his arms when you arrived.

Arthur: Of course not! Do you really believe me that unreasonable?

Uther: Yes! You know why? Because everyone seems to believe that! Since you came back from your search of Nimueh, the whole castle doesn't stop talking about how you got a man arrested because he dare to touch your manservant!

Arthur: Well, it's not true.

Uther: Fine, if you're so sure he did sorcery, I'll prepare his execution inmediatly.

Arthur: I never said I was sure, just that I found him in-

Uther: Suspicious circunstances, I know.

Arthur: Like I said, I'm not unreasonable. I can't execute him for sorcery without solid prove.

Uther: But you're not going to free him either.

Arthur: Because of the suspicious circunstances.

Uther: So you're just... going to keep him in there.

Arthur: Yeah.

Uther: ...

Arthur: ...

Uther: I'm too old for this. (leaves)

Time skip. After Merlin moved in to Arthur's antechambers.

Uther being attended by Gaius in his chambers.

Gaius: (mixing a concoction in the king's tea) This should help you with your nerves, Sire. I don't know what to do about the tic in your eye though. I would recommend you to rest more.

Uther: How could I? I'm the king! I have a lot of duties to do!

Gaius: You could delegate some of your duties to prince Arthur-

Uther: Arthur! He's the reason I'm like this! Him and his greedy manservant! No offense, Gaius.

Gaius: None taken, sire. And I can assure you Merlin is nothing like that. He's just an innocent country boy. I think he's not even aware of the prince's affections for him yet.

Uther: That's what he's making everyone believe! But it's all an act, I can see it! He used his seductive arts to have my son in the palm of his hand!

Gaius: (puts the cup of tea in the king's hand) Whatever you say, sire. Your tea.

Servant: (Knocks door from outside)

Uther: Come in. (takes sip of his tea)

Servant: Your Majesty, (Bows) You asked to keep you informed of... uhm.. any important change related to the prince and his manservant.

Uther: (sighs and take another sip) What did he do this time?

Servant: The prince asked his manservant to move to his antechambers, sire.

Uther: (relieved) Oh... That's not so bad.

Gaius: (cheering Uther up) Is not bad at all! As his personal manservant he should have moved there from the start. I'm surprised the prince didn't ask him to move before.

Servant: (sweating, nervous) Yeah...

Uther: (sighs) There's more, isn't it?

Servant: Uhm... well... there are rumors, sire...that says that..ahm...

Uther: (demands) What?

Servant: The reason the prince asked his servant to move was because he brought another man to his room, sire.

Uther: (breaks the cup of tea in his hand)

Gaius: (sighs, to the servant, calmly) Bring me another cup and some bandages, please.

Servant: (bows and leaves)

Uther: Gaius.

Gaius: Yes, sire?

Uther: You have brought a seductive demon to the castle.

...

Uther finding out about arthur's weird obsession with merlin ☑︎

*Innprudance is the actual name of the Knight just so you know. And it fits him perfectly.

Credits to my best friend Rosangela, who helped me with some dialogues and situations, no only in this part, but several ones. Love you so much! ❤️

#merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merlin #merthur #merlin fanfic #merlin prompt #merlin fic #merthur fic #arthur and merlin #merlin and arthur #merthur fanfiction #merthur fanfic #merthur prompt #Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

244 notes · View notes

draemgal · 9 months

Text

best buds | azriel

Az has a girlfriend who has a son, they have been dating for a while, but the reader has some kind of problem (illness, she was attacked,… whatever you want!!) and at one point with the IC the reader's son told her says Az dad and everything is very asdgjh

anon this is so cute tysm for requesting!

things in your life were perfect—up until you got the flu.

first it started with body aches and then quickly progressed to fever, vomiting, fatigue, the works. you tried to hide your sickness from your mate, azriel, but failed the second he looked at the bags under your eyes and the scratch of your voice.

you, like most of the world, hated being sick.

you hated laying in bed and sleeping your days away, hated only being able to be up on your feet for a few hours before you began to feel faint.

you hated it even more because you were a mom. you didn’t want your son from a previous relationship to catch whatever you had, so you distanced yourself. doing this was extremely hard because you two were joined at the hip.

your son was staying with rhys at his house, having an extended play date with his cousin, nyx. azriel was staying there with him, as well.

the two of them had gotten very close since you’ve been dating. your heart beamed with fondness as you watched the two of them play and the way your son would hold az’s finger when they crossed the street.

initially, you were worried about introducing them. a good relationship with your son was a nonnegotiable, but you knew not everyone wants a child right off the bat. azriel, however, was overjoyed when he learned of your son.

it only made him love you even more.

over at the river house, azriel sat in rhy’s office with the high lord himself and cassian. mor and feyre we’re playing with the children, a stream of endless slews of laughter filling the halls.

“how is y/n feeling?” rhys asked, turning his attention towards the shadowsinger.

azriel gave a small smile. “still pretty sick, her fever broke this morning though, thank the mother.”

you hated him doting on you, so you requested that he stay at rhysand’s with your son until you were no longer contagious. you did this not only so your son had him there, but to spare you from the constant routine check-ins. you knew me meant well though.

“she’ll be back to her normal self in no time.” cassian smiled, missing his partner in crime.

azriel peered down the hallway at the son that he was proud to now call his. so much love and pride pulsed through his veins that sometimes he thought he might explode.

“little man misses her. every night when i read him to sleep he asks how mommy’s doing.” azriel’s smile brightened. “i can’t wait until she’s better so i can see the look on his face when he sees her again.”

it had only been a few days, but for a child it seems like a million.

azriel’s thoughts were cut short when your son burst through the doorway, a huge grin on his face as he giggled.

“daddy! aunt mor keeps tickling me!”

daddy.

he had never called him that before.

azriel’s heart fluttered and he looked at the child clinging to his legs in awe. cassian and rhys exchanged a look, fist bumping each other behind azriel’s back.

his two brothers knew how long azriel had waited to get that validation.

azriel picked up his son and planted a kiss on his cheek, smiling ear to ear. “what did you say?”

your child giggled again. “i said, daddy! mor won’t stop tickling me!”

azriel spun and gave his two brothers a quick look of surprise and excitement before turning his attention back to his son.

“well, we can’t have that can we? let’s go have a word with auntie mor.” azriel mock scowled, and his son copied his expression.

before exiting the room, azriel shot a message through the bond.

“it finally happened.”

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar fic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x y/n

883 notes · View notes

ellecdc · 3 months

Note

Love, i just had a heartbreaking thought; James' first solo excursion with Vix. He'd be so anxious and stressed because all he can think is " i wont leave without her this time" 😭

Could i request paranoid james and vix going shopping alone for the first time?? I feel that hed want one of those stretchy child hand cuff things so he wouldnt lose her

Poor Jamie. I wanna give this sod the biggest hug in the whole wide world

James was losing it - he was well aware of this. Every movement, every car horn, every bell ringing above a shop door, every person laughing or yelling brought him closer to you until you were basically wearing him like a backpack.

"Doing alright, Jamie?" You asked kindly, politely, concernedly. James wanted to shove you under his arm and take cover.

"Yeah, yup. Never better." He said distractedly as he continued to scan your surroundings.

The two of you had volunteered to pick up the cake from the magical bakery on Diagon Alley for Remus' birthday, which quickly turned into shopping for presents in Muggle London, which turned into a full on shopping spree at a large mall.

James hated it.

Being in a building felt claustrophobic and he was panicky watching you even reach for door handles - sure as all get out that the place was quickly becoming consumed by fiendfyre. He didn't fair much better outside, however, feeling as though you were both too vulnerable in the open; desperate to find coverage.

Really, he just wanted to take you home.

"How much longer do you think we'll be?" He asked you as he glared menacingly at a male shopper who had the audacity to wear all black until he left your vicinity.

"Not long, James. I just want to hit the grocery before we head back; it might be nice to have a charcuterie, no?"

James wanted to say "actually, I'm pretty sure shopping for charcuterie might be what kills us, Vix." But since that was crazy, he opted to hum in agreement as you led the way.

The two of you passed by a toy store where he saw a parent walking a child on a lead like a dog. His first thought was 'good lord, muggle parents are something else'. His second though was 'I should buy one for me and Vix'.

He turned back to the direction you two had been heading when he realized he couldn't see you anymore.

"Vix?" He said quietly as he spun in place. "Y/N?!" He shouted louder, garnering attention from the other shoppers near by.

What was he going to do? He couldn't very well pull his wand out right now. He would pull his wand out if he needed to - Azkaban be damned for breaking the statute of secrecy - but he was not going home to Sirius without you again.

"Y/N!" He shouted as he started shoving his head against the glass windows of various shops on the street, trying to catch a glimpse of you.

He felt tears prick his eyes as his breathing became faster. How could he have done this? How could he have lost you again!?

Unawares of the panic you just caused, you exited the shop with a bouquet of lilies for James - knowing he liked having fresh flowers around his home that reminded him of his 'beautiful flower' to find him spinning around frantically with tears streaming down his face like a toddler who lost their parent at the zoo.

"James!" You called as you raised your hand. He spotted you instantly and made for you - crushing your bouquet between the two of you as he enveloped you in a bone crushing hug.

"Where were you!? I couldn't find you anywhere!" He cried as he held on fast to your form. You patted his back consolingly.

"Awe, Jamie. I'm sorry. I thought you were following me - I just wanted to get you some flowers!" You explained as you pulled the slightly flattened bouquet away from your body.

All anxiety and any pretence of anger slipped away as James beamed at the bouquet. "You got me flowers!?" He shrilled as he took them from you.

You beamed right back at him and gave him another hug. "I'm sorry for frightening you, Prongs. Why don't we go to the grocery and then head home?"

James took a steadying breath and nodded at you.

"Can we hold hands?" He asked somewhat sheepishly.

You immediately held out your hand which he quickly enveloped with the one not holding his bouquet as you set off for the shops.

He didn't let your hand go until you made it into Grimmauld Place and Sirius hollered at him for making moves on his girl.

#marauders come back be here #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #marauders x reader #marauders #ask elle #self insert #reader insert #sirius black #james potter

174 notes · View notes

assortedvillainvault · 4 months

Note

Me, sending Thalassa another ask after a long tumblr absence? It's more likely than you think ;)

My request this time is more Shen x Reader...but through the Henchwolves' POV

Gimme that minion gossip 😆

It's benn a Goddamn Minute since I wrote anything for the murderbird, please accept this humble offering my friend! This is set loosely within Shen's hostile takeover of his family's palace, just pretend it's taking a few months longer for Po and the Furious Five to arrive.

Lord Shen x Reader (Henchwolves POV)

Sooo...the boss’s in looovvveee…

Ok well it’s more like Shen is speed-cycling through every emotion under the sun, like some kind of cursed knife throwing merry-go-round.

From an outside perspective that part is no different to how he normally is, really, potato tomato.

But ever since YOU entered the picture, he’s been swinging between regality and rage like it’s going out of fashion.

This would normally be time for the wolves to about-face and shamelessly hide behind the hired muscle of the rhino and gorilla guards, but between your bemused reactions and the Soothsayers amused snorts they have front row seats to China’s cheesiest love story and they’re not missing ANY of the drama.

Don’t forget, the wolves have followed Shen for nearly two decades by now – they know him. His ins and outs, his twitches and grandiose gestures. The way his right eyelid twitches when he can’t feel the knives in his sleeves.

They’re not familiar with the way his elegant steps stumble when you surprise him. Or how he loses his train of thought and sputters when you question his judgement. Or how he seems to fight the noble training of several years to fidget with his robes before posing just so to meet with you.

Guards from both the throne room and the gardens noticed his tail sweeping and twitching when talking to you, and in their experience, Shen’s tail is a dead giveaway for his flintstrike temper and at the time they were 99% certain he was about to stick a knife in your back and call it a day…

...until he presented you with a custom ordered gift and his overwrought nerves had his tail nearly leap into it’s classic fan as he awkwardly swallowed a squawk into a cough, trying to pretend this was a spur of the moment thing rather something he'd agonized over in private for five days.

At guard change they all but barged into the guardroom mess, hollering and sniggering.

“Shen’s PRESENTING!”

Chaos ensues. Bets are taken, at least one table is broken. One poor bastard ends up tossed from a fifth story window. He's probably fine.

It’s all boss wolf can do not to roll his eyes.

In contrast to the rest of the henchman – he operates much closer to Shen in a day to day capacity. So HE’s the poor bugger having to endure Shen’s erratic mumbling as the neurotic bird pores over battle plans, supply chains, letters and negotiations from nobility and powerful individuals to bribe. All that, he can deal with.

...What he can’t deal with is the way Shen’s eyes will glaze over mid mumble and suddenly he’s got an earful of spoiled royal lamenting how 50 reams of china’s finest silks isn’t even close enough to a satisfactory nest and How is he supposed to curry your favour if you only have 25 colours to choose from???

Fucking. BIRDS and their obsession with shiny shit.

Meanwhile, the Soothsayer is very much enjoying watching Shen work himself into a knot over whether or not he should ask her for a love life prediction.

It’s just a waiting game before he cracks. And she’s more than happy to trip him up and poke fun in the meantime, catching your eye from the background and winking as she eats his sashes and pulls fake prophesies out of her ass.

(She approves of you, don’t worry, and she lowkey is happy for Shen to have found someone as wonderful as you, but also: you deserve better and her lingering fondness for Shen as his former nanny doesn’t blind her to that.)

Hope you enjoyed these headcannons friend!

#thalassa responds #lord shen #kfp lord shen #shen x reader #x reader #Shen is probably my favourite of the kfp villains #I'm just never sure if I can get the balance of 'capable visionary who is a legitimate threat'#and 'overwrought hairtrigger bundle of spite given form'#and 'accidentally hilarious sassmaster' together in the right amount

158 notes · View notes

the-dixon-effect · 9 months

Text

Just a Girl

requested by: @dixonsgirl93 which you can find here -> masterlist

A/N: thank you so much for the request my love!! i love this concept so much that it had me up at 4am writing it after recovering from a long-haul flight, so so sorry that this took so long for a little drabble xx

It was too tempting.

Not after years of stumbling around in dirty rags and a single pair of worn combat boots. Not after fighting for your life every single day, were you going to pass this up. Today, you were safe. And right in front of you, in this completely empty mall, were a pair of pristine black stilettos.

You held one in each hand as you admired them, a treasure of a world lost in time. You felt like a different person just clutching them.

"Hey, Maggie!" you are unable to control the wide smile cast across your lips. "Look what I found!" the girl glanced in your direction from the entrance of the store, scoffing at your excitement.

"Whatcha gonna do with those?" she asked, chuckling, as she jogged up to the display table coated in a thick layer of dust.

"I don't know. Walk around. Dance. Put 'em on a table and forbid anyone from touching them," you said quietly, smiling as you palmed at the crisp black leather. "They could be a symbol. Y'know, Lord of the Flies style," you joked, meeting the farmgirl's eyes. Strangely enough, the ghost of a boutique was relatively empty apart from these shoes, a few scraps of useless clothes scattered around and many plastic hangers adorning the white-tiled floor.

"Alright, fine. But ya' have to bring that little black dress back, too," she teased, in that familiar Southern drawl. Pointing to a rack of clothes on the other side of the store, you spotted a lone black dress threatening to fall off the flimsy hanger. It was no surprise that when the remaining survivors came through these parts, rummaging through stores and kitchens and bunkers, a pair of high heels and a mini dress didn't make the cut for the survivalist supply list. It had been a couple years by now, and indeed no one back at the prison would care if you indulged in a bit of fun. Besides, you're just a girl. And a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do to get by.

Most evenings were spent in the foyer swapping stories and enjoying the ever-expanding group's company, now that everyone was feeling more comfortable in the prison. Daryl was perched on the second step of the cool, steel staircase fletching some bolts for his crossbow, after the fairly uneventful run earlier. One thought did linger in his mind, however - as he tuned out to the rest of the conversations engaging in his midst. You had briefly shown him what you managed to pick up back at the abandoned mall, some scraps of food, some comics for Carl, and... what could only be described as an image from one of his wildest dreams. Or worst nightmares. What the hell would he do with himself if you suddenly appeared in that dress? And those heels? Probably run, and hide someplace where nobody would notice his reaction. And just when he was imagining what you would look like in that outfit from earlier, he heard a voice call out from upstairs.

"Hershel! You better believe these things are harder to walk in than a peg leg!"

The foyer erupted in chuckles as conversations ceased while everybody looked up at you on the balcony, held up firmly by Maggie who couldn't control her laughter either.

"Come on down, Y/N. Betcha can't do it!" the grey-haired man exclaimed as the rest of the group watched you stumble to the top of the staircase.

Oh God. She's so popular. And beautiful - were the thoughts swirling around in Daryl's head as he turned a swift 180 and looked up at your perfect figure. You looked so pretty when you laughed like that; a face that lit up the room - lit up this rotten world - when the sweet sound that even a siren couldn't mimic echoed over the walls of the dismal building. And that outfit; the smooth black dress that clung to your thighs so perfectly with a neckline that revealed just enough to make him go insane. Those heels. Daryl always had a thing for girls with nice legs, but he was always too embarrassed to mention it. It may have slipped out in front of his older brother once upon a time, and for the years to come he never shut up about it. Humiliating Daryl whenever a gorgeous girl like you walked past. Daryl never denied it, though, that you and that perfect body of yours were gonna be the death of him someday. And that felt like right now.

"Maggie, don't you dare let that girl fall!" Michonne shouted, laughing as she kicked her feet up on the cafeteria table and leaned back.

"Daryl, I swear to God, if you don't catch me I'll kill you," you began, addressing the archer that was gawking up at you, the one slightly obstructing your wobbly path down the staircase. Everybody in that cell block watched the poor man snap out of his daydreams as he shot up and grabbed your hand as your knees threatened to buckle beneath you. Maggie let go of her tight grip on your shoulders and erupted into giggles, as though she were playing Cupid.

"Thank you, Daryl," you said sweetly, not realising that Daryl is physically suffocating as you clutched Daryl's calloused palm. You took the opportunity to steady yourself on both feet and do a little twirl, lifting Daryl's arm up over your head as you spun around as gracefully as you could manage. A couple of cheers escaped from your audience, making you smile deeply. You hadn't felt this pretty in a long time.

"Whatcha doin' playin' dress-up anyway?" Daryl drawled, quietly.

"Well, I'm just a girl."

taglist: @alldevilsarehere90 @poisonmenegan @radcollectivesoul @emilykolchivans @pinchoftheoutsiders guys the taglist is looking a little lonely!!

386 notes · View notes

oh-saints · 5 months

Note

Hi I don’t know if you’ll get this but I have an idea for Rúben Dias, he starrs crushing on the female photographer for Man City and his teammates start teasing him, he doesn’t want to admit his feelings because he thinks the photographer is dating someone ( but she’s actually single and is just introverted)

aaaaahh this feels close to home bcs i'd gotten mistaken so many times by men due to my introvert nature /sigh

silent

rúben should really stop interpreting things out of hand on his own and start asking the right questions instead.

rúben dias x photographer!you

wc: 2.7k

note: here's is my comback piece! (is that even a valid word?) i actually had this idea in mind for a while and i love writing this bcs i can see he could make this kind of cute mistake! this actually hits closer to home, too, considering that i'm an intovert as well LOL but as usual, I happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.

happy new year too, everyone! i wish you'll have a blessed year ahead <3

“cupcakes!”

you groaned inwardly, that must be jack grealish. only the 100-million man would call you with overly sweet pet names like that, and he did it so often no matter how many times you corrected him that you had a real name during the first month of your employment here. now entering your third month, you’ve long given up, but you’d renamed his contact to be jack greasy on your phone.

“come sit over with us!”

unlike your nickname, though, you hadn’t given up on his persistent request to sit amongst his set of friends because good lord could they be so boisterous their laughter sounded more like a boom in your ears sometimes. their energy simply went off the roof and your introvert self could never handle it well.

you’d have your time to photograph everyone in the bus later anyway, so you gave him a polite smile, without another word, and proceeded to sit down beside your fellow media team.

you could hear jack screaming protest “aw, come on, cupcakes!” as you took your seat. his friends were laughing on his face at your rejection.

if you have your way, though, you’d badly want to be assigned to the calmer tide of the bus. the likes of julian, kevin, bernardo were more suitable for your kind. but being the one responsible for the disposable camera and all of city’s short off-pitch videos, jack and his circus were more than a matchmade in heaven for a better result.

before you had more complaints to mull over, your colleagues turned to face you and started babbling about an upcoming short video the both of you would have to make. the plot, the script, down to deciding who’d be best to be asked for to star in the video.

“i think rúben dias would do just fine.”

being a newbie, you nodded along the names he mentioned because in all honesty, you didn’t exactly know who is who and which is which until now. two months splattered all over the men’s and the women’s team, as well as the academy, was pretty much a guarantee you’d missed out on someone.

but you always, no matter how busy you are, spared some time to browse on the player before you met them, in case it was someone you should be worried for, or someone you should be thankful of for their media-darling persona, or someone you should be working twice as hard because they didn’t know what to do. worse, someone you’d worked together before but you forgot.

for rúben dias, though… you didn’t know which one of the categories above fitted him best. you were rendered speechless at your search bar result. you could bet your entire month salary that he was someone you had yet the chance to create a content together because if he already did, you wouldn’t have that face of his wiped off your brain.

which was exactly why you should be worried.

you had never worked with someone that looks like adonis when he decides to ascend himself from olympus. or so you’d like to think rúben was what adonis would’ve looked like if greek mythology happens to be true.

sadly, nobody warned you that he was even more beautiful up close, as he strutted his way to your creator team, with a tousled hair he kept tussling against, as well as the bright smile and warm laugh he’d drop here as he went through pre-production brief. his voice was so melodic it soothed all the soreness to your eardrums—thanks to jack grealish—in one simple video production, and you mentally thought you could replay the edited video later whenever you needed to go to sleep, like an asmr or some sort, because it really felt like a blanket on a rainy day.

your heart ached at the sight because my goodness… he was simply too beautiful for your own good.

it shouldn’t be doing all that jumping and leaping and drumming, though, because those were the early signs of you getting biased.

and it could only mean one thing in every professional language possible: bad.

with your very generous pay check on the line, you couldn’t afford to fail. so that day, you made a promise to yourself to do what you had to do, and thankfully it was what your introvert self do best.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

while you knew what to do, rúben—on the contrary—seemed lost.

no, the portugese was lost.

contrary to popular belief, footballers are actually smart. at least, if they are not book smart, they’re definitely street smart. rúben would like to think he’s got a bit of both worlds, so it could justify his own judgement of you.

his eyes were keen, as his job required him to do so, and he’s got an incredible sensing, enough to read a gigantic elephant in the room when there was one. the combination scanned your change in attitude on the day he first worked with you and the present time.

you were so friendly and eager to work with him, welcoming his extended hand as he introduced himself to you for the first time. he remembered your smile, blinding against the bleak manchester weather but instead of feeling cold, he only felt warmth and fuzzy all over his body.

but as the filming session went on, your smile was close to non-existent, just like the probability of the two of you running into each other again. he initially thought it was only because you got so many takes already and the job exhausted you, but he later realised you were avoiding him. as subtle as you could anyway.

at the beginning, he only thought you missed the way he waved at you. or the time when he thought you put his row of seat last for a mandatory picture in your disposable camera, for aesthetics’ sake.

the time when he offered you a ride home, though—that was the final confirmation. the weather had started snowing on some days, and you were certainly freezing by the look of your shivering shoulders and teetering teeth, so rúben offered you a ride home. but you turned down the offer, ever so politely like usual. yes, yes of course you had the rights but the most logical thing was to accept them instead of waiting for the next bus, no?

(oh, believe him, he knew she was waiting. he managed to parked far away from your sight but close enough to see that you did indeed wait for the next bus to arrive and take you to the nearest station. he knew, and he remembered that day because it was the only day he had to fight himself from running down the street just to give you another layer of coat.)

his first instinct was to think that he’d wronged you somehow during the filming. was he demanding? was he not up to your par of filming standard? was he not good enough for your cameras?

but james, your fellow co-worker, the one who worked together with you for this project, gave him an utterly confused look. “have you seen how the videos turned out? you were brilliant, rúben. and no, i don’t think i’ve heard any concerns from her about your ethics.”

so what did he still not do right that could’ve upset you?

rúben didn’t like where this was going because you’ve kept him intrigued. you kept him on his toes, bouncing lightly like a child full of curiosity. you kept him thirsty for more information about you and what makes you tick, lowkey in hope to bring out the smile rúben himself didn’t know he had missed seeing.

and if he discovered that he did indeed upset you somehow, and was somehow responsible for the disappearance of your shy smile, then he’d like to right them right away. he has to.

with that mentality, rúben took the chance to clock out earlier—which was like the seventh wonder of the world around etihad academy—in order to catch a glimpse of you on your off-work routine. he’d set himself resolved to only ask necessary questions, not more nor less, without any hidden agenda. no wishy washy, unlike his previous trials.

rúben did actually catch you for a split second. his beak was already opening, he’d only needed his voice box to produce the sound to the question in his mind, but the scene unravelled before him halted everything in him. every particle of his body, every molecule of his brain.

a black car swerved into the lane to the lobby, a pretty prestigious car at that, and the way your face lit up so brightly reminded him of the day you first worked together. it was a sight that rúben missed, it was a sight that rúben longed to see again.

he was so blinded by the ethereal view that he completely forgot his own plan, and watched as the black car swallowed his portion of small happiness of the day.

was that your boyfriend? if yes, then did you take rúben’s friendliness as a romantical advance to you? if yes, then was that the reason why you immediately put up a china wall between you two? if yes, then was he that protective or was he simply possessive?

rúben couldn’t deny his own infatuation of you. maybe it was why he was adamant to right things good between the two of you. but if you did in fact have a boyfriend, then he should find a way to reduce and silence this growing feeling—be it really infatuation or merely curiosity.

“does she have a boyfriend?”

but desperate times need desperate measures, and rúben saw ‘the black car incident’ was his sign to speed things up in order to find a concrete answer. even if it included asking jack grealish about you.

jack snorted, rather snobby. “how would i know, mate?”

“i thought you guys are close.”

“your definition of close is concerning,” jack replied as he shut his locker. “why don’t you ask her yourself? aren’t you the type to just charge at it first, think later?”

“i would’ve if she didn’t give me a cold shoulder.”

“have you tried?��

rúben was the one who didn’t hold back his snort this time. “of course i did.”

“then maybe you were asking the wrong question, mate.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

as much as rúben hated to confess that jack actually had a point, he had to give hands down. he might be asking the wrong question, he might be asking too much question, he might be asking the right question with the wrong approach.

bottom line, he’d concluded himself that he had to try until he succeeded. each time in different approach, different variables. logically speaking, it should take him somewhere for a clue. if it didn’t, it should at least tire you enough to have you spell the answer to his queries.

rúben had gathered enough information that you and your team had wrapped up filming for christmas and new year’s content, complete with kids involved and all. you were supposed to stay in the editing room, and working late on it because there was a teaser—which fell into your line of work under “short videos”—to be uploaded tomorrow evening.

he purposefully slowed his pace for anything that did not require physical activities and trainings, resulting in him also staying late to finish some of his homework—his affectionate nickname for video trainings he’d like to execute at home, in the comfort of his abode and plush suede pillows—so he could match your pace of work. he planned to catch you off guard the same way as ‘the black car’ incident.

at 8, you finally went out of your cave, precisely like his little rat had informed him before. so of course, you were startled to find rúben already standing against the railing in front of your office.

“rúben,” your voice got stuck in your throat but rúben thought it was a cute squeak. it was also a better response, rúben thought, too. you could’ve spat at him or shooed him away immediately. “what are you doing here?”

“i’m—” rúben thought about lying for a second, but he decided it’d contribute nothing to a start of a friendship. yes, friendship, because it was the bare minimum, no? “i’m waiting for you.”

your eyes widened, and that was when rúben noticed the golden specks on the orbs of your eyes. heartbreakingly stunning, solely because rúben only noticed this now.

you shifted the weight of your body from your right leg to your left one, and rúben found it endearing because he noticed that was an early sign an introvert—you, in this case—was starting to get nervous or uncomfortable. rúben hoped it was the former because that’d put you as cute as an awkward lone penguin.

“is there anything i can help you with?”

“yes, i’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

with his devastatingly beautiful look, his velvet voice and his intensely deep brown eyes, your heart palpitated so fast and so irregular that you were afraid rúben could see them falling and getting back into its designated place like a bungee jumper.

or maybe the rope snapped on its way down and never found its way up again, depending on the question about to be fired at you. at this point, your mind went funnily white, and you were ready to succumb into either pressure or temptation, depending on the question he’d fire you with.

“do you hate me?”

you seemed perplexed at his blatant question, but he’d take that reaction over anything else because it was something, especially compared to the invisible wall you’d put up since the first time you both had worked together.

“do you?” rúben pressed his voice gently, while he took a step closer to you. slowly but assertively.

the movement snapped you back to reality. you should not heed into pressure, but there was no use in lying because in reality, you really had no reason to hate him. if you had your chance, you would’ve done things the other way around.

“no, i don’t.”

another step closer. “but have you ever hated me?”

realising the 6-feet centre back was doing, you involuntarily moved backwards in the same amount of steps that he did, albeit the distance reached was certainly and significantly a huge gap you could never keep. “no, rúben—”

before you could finish your sentence, he obliterated every single space left in between the two of you and cornered you to the nearest wall. “then do you like me?”

you should be running, you should be fleeing, you should be screaming down the hill. you should be anywhere but here, trapped in between the long, strong and sturdy pair of his arms, the very same one he used to defend himself and the ball from the opponent. the very same one your eyes couldn’t lie but appreciate its masculinity.

rúben noticed the miniscule movement of your eyes, despite your tightened body language, and it brought a little smile on the corner of his lips. maybe he had indeed asked all the wrong question in all the previous times he’d had the chance.

“tell me,” rúben then pronounced your name in the way no one else could, so soft and velvet like a fine cashmere being caressed against your eardrums, that shivers ran down your entire body as if you were struck by a lightning. “please tell me that, at least.”

so paradoxic, you thought inwardly at the sensation. and you supposedly hated the way he confused you, but you didn’t this time—you didn’t even detest the way he seemed enjoying this whole thing, by the way he pulled of a subtle smirk that busted your knees slowly but surely—and it made you even more crazy because what the hell was this?

you tried to mask it off by looking him straight in the eyes. well, tried to, at least, because the moment your eyes were connected with the milkiest brown orbs that reminded you of a hot chocolate on a wintry day, you couldn’t help but look away. “what do you want me to say?”

rúben didn’t fight a full smile from blooming on his face, as the tip of his finger aligned your face gently to face his. he really likes the fact you gave him a fair fight to remain indifferent still, even when everything else of your body failed to be your auxiliary. “do you like me?”

“i do—”

“then would you like to have a dinner with me tonight?”

#anon asks #oh-saints answers #oh-saints writes #oh-saints writes requests #ruben dias #rúben dias #ruben dias x you #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias fics #ruben dias blurbs #ruben dias drabbles #football fics #football fanfiction #footballer x you #footie fics

211 notes · View notes

bluexiao · 1 year

Text

#out of character

–what is scara’s reaction to his usually calm s/o suddenly snapping // a request

Scaramouche; gn! Reader // established relationship // warning: scara being mean (not to u)

SCARAMOUCHE / WANDERER

Boy would be pretty surprised when he saw and heard you snap the first time around. Does his shy (and cute) Y/n know how to curse at someone? Damn, he’d be proud, even.

“Excuse me? What did you just say?” He raises a brow at the scene, about to interfere when you add on, “did you just mock him right in front of me? Did you just mock my lover? Your very own lord Harbinger?”

He halts in his tracks and tilts his head, amusement playing on his face.

Your eyes widen as the Fatuus cowers over your intimidation, kneeling in front of you. The sight alone stirs something inside Scaramouche—it wasn’t negative, he could tell.

“B-but, we-” “Forgive us, lord Y/n! We do not deserve your mercy!” “W-wait! But they’re just the lord’s l-”

You glared at the disobeying Fatuu and scoffed—a sound your lover himself wasn’t really familiar with, coming from you, that is, “Mercy? You want my mercy now?” You then avert your eyes to meet him, “You don’t need my mercy, you better ask his.”

In the end, he did not really have that much anger for the Fatuu—he stopped caring about what others think of or call him anymore, but since you were showing your power in front of them, then he would not do anything to smear your reputation. Thus, he ends up punishing whoever was responsible for your anger.

“Shut it, you imbecile. So you’re the one who had spoken ill of me, huh?” he grits his teeth, eyes piercing straight toward one of them, “You even had the nerve to act tough against Y/n. Not so tough now, are you? Should’ve been careful with your words. Bet you pissed your pants off from fear now, huh?” he chuckles evilly, “What a weakling.”

Actually, he’d be very amused to the point he’d confront or tease you about it.

“Didn’t know you had it in you, Y/n,” he’d smirk at you, a brow raised and his arms crossed over his chest, “Should I be worried?” he jokes, but of course, he wouldn’t really be.

Despite it all, the thing that very much surprises him was every time your mood flips back to your usual one; flashing him that shy smile of yours with a wave of your hand, calling his name with your sweet voice as you make your way towards him.

It’s this that sets him off–the difference in how you treat him from the others, you even had gotten mad at him.

It makes him feel… special.

But of course, he wouldn’t outrightly say that.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

(taglist on reblogs)

#scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin wanderer #scara x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #blue's works

2K notes · View notes

lovelywritinglady · 6 months

Note

This is my first request, I want to see how Tengen and his wives react to one of the wives (y/n) has been taking more naps then usual and hasn’t been walking around as much.

When they go to the hospital about it, they find out that it’s because the chronic pain (description: pain that last longer then three months no matter what medication they take) as well then having not much stamina.

Sorry if this is too complicated, I just been having a lot of trouble even getting out of bed without a walking stick. IM NOT EVEN FORTY

thank you

I shall do my best!! Thank you for requesting!

We’ll Take Care Of You

Tengen Uzui x fem!reader x wives

Fluff, mentions of polygamy, reader has a condition, slight angst.

Tengen Pov

Coming back from a month long mission was one of the best things to me. The look on my wives' faces when they see me again reminds me of all of the love I'm given. Currently I am a few steps from reaching my home when I hear my lovely wife, Suma, call that I am home. I smile at her excitment and quicken my pace as to not keep her and the others waiting too much longer.

Stepping into my rather large estate, I'm immedietly greeted with three bone crushing hugs and whines of worry. If I wasn't already sore from my fight earlier, then I'm definately sore now. Immedietly I wrap my large arms around their figures, but just as soon as my excitment comes, it is replaced with worry.

"Where is Y/n?" I ask my beautiful wives who are still wrapped around me.

"Oh, Lord Tengen, she is in bed. She hasn't been feeling too good for a while." Suma responed with a look of worry on her face now too.

"Is she sick and have you called a doctor?" I asked breaking a hug and looking to Makio and Hina for answers as well.

"We have and she has no sickness, she's just been in some pain and that has been causing her to be in bed a lot." Makio tells me.

"I'm going to go see her alone if that's okay with you three?" I tell them making my way to go see my Y/N.

"Of course, Lord Tengen, I'll make us some food in the meantime." Hina tells me as I'm walking to Y/n's room.

Slowly I opened the sliding door of her room only to be met with a lovely sleeping figure buried underneath blankets looking very comfortable. I slightly chuckled at the sight, but remembered that she has been sleeping an abnormal amount. Crouching down I wiped some loose strands of hair that fell on her somewhat peaceful face; thanking God that I get to witness the beautiful sight before me. Y/n then opened her eyes slightly giving me a smile.

"Lord Tengen, you're back!" She said quietly but the excitment in her voice was heard.

"Yes, and I hear that you have been sleeping a lot. My love, what is going on? Are you hurt in anyway?" I asked her as I laid down on the bed facing her and wrapping my right arm around her.

"I'm not so sure, my body aches all the time and I'm so sleepy. I'm sorry to have worried you Lord Tengen." Y/n says with tears prickling her eyes. Smiling at her I gently wipe the tears from her face and then carefully placing gentle kisses on her nose, forehead, cheeks, and finally a loving kiss on her soft lips. When I pulled away from her, she looked content and relaxed.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, my love. How about I take you to the hospital tomorrow so we can see what is hurtung my baby, hmm." I tell her as she nuzzles into my chest.

"Thank you, Lord Tengen." she says in a cute whisper.

"Of course, now I think you should try to eat something. Plus Hina is cooking and we both know how healing her cooking is." I joke

"Yeah, she's been making me food recently and Makio and Suma have been making me feel comfortable and have been taking care of me too. I'm so thankful to have them here." she tells me and I can tell that she's blushing from that thought.

"We all love and what to take care of you and won't rest until you're better." I reassured her as we both got up from the bed. Her legs were wobbly so I offered her a piggy back ride which she gladly accepted. "Now come on, lets get you fed." I told her as I began walking to the kitchen.

"I love you, Lord Tengen." She hummed

"I love you too" I responed flashing her a wink.

"Hey, what about me?" Suma whines from the kitchen.

"Yeah, you love me too right, Lord Tengen?" Makio chimes in with a fierce blush across her face. "Yeah, Yeah I love you guys too." I told them

The Next Day...

Y/n and I left to the doctors as soon as the sun peaked through the clouds. She wasn't feeling her best so I decided to hold her on my back. My sweet wife was so sleepy and I could tell that her eyes were heavy as she did her best to keep her head upright.

"Y/n, if you need to sleep that's okay. We'll be at the doctors in about 20 minutes if you'd like to sleep until then." I spoke sweetly to her.

"Okay, I am pretty tired." She whispered as she placed her head back on my shoulder and closed her eyes. Soon enough she was sound asleep.

"Heh, such a cute girl." I smiled making sure I treaded lightly as to not awake my sleepy wife.

About 20 minutes later, we arrived. My sweet Y/n was still asleep on my shoulder and I reluctantly woke her up and as I did she slowly open her beautiful eyes and let out such a small yawn. I slightly blushed at her cuteness and reached to give her a small kiss on her cheek. She smiled at me and then made her way off my back and immedietly put her hand in mine. I could tell she was nervous and she took a deep breath and practically pulled me into the doctors home. She walked up and introuduced herself and stated that she had an appointmemt. I was astonished by her strength and admired her flashiness. After a few minutes, the doctor came out and called out my wife's name.

"Uzui Y/n, Uzui Y/n? A small older woman asked scanning the room.

"Yes, that's me." Y/n said as she walked over to the doctor.

"Love, do you need me to go with you?" I aksed hopeful that she'd let me.

"No honey, i think I'd like to do this alone if that's alright." She told me as she reached up and gave me a quick kiss on my left cheek before following the doctor.

"See you soon." I whispered as I made my way to the front anxious as to what was going on with my love.

A little while later...

I was impatient awaiting the news of my sweet wife and what's been going on with her. There were a few times that I almost barged in and demanded to speak with the doctor myself, but I stopped myself out of fear of disappointing Y/n and my other wives. Taking a deep breath, I calmed myself once again only to hear footsteps and the sound of a door opening. There stood my wife with a strange expression on her face and the old lady doctor holding her arm. She immediately looked at me and gave me a sweet smile. I gave her one in return and just nearly ran towards her.

"So is she alright doc?" I asked embracing my wife.

"She's not dying if that's what you're concerned with. She has chronic pain and that's the reason that your lovely wife here hasn't be herself lately." the doctor explained

"Is there anything that we can do to cure it?" I asked worried for my wife.

"Yes, whatever you've been giving her as decreased her pain a little but it won't cure it. However, I have perscribed a special herbal tea and an ointment to put on any specific areas of pain. In a few months to a year your wife should be relitivly normal." She told me and then turned her attention to Y/n and gave her a reassuring smile.

"Lord Tengen, I think I'm going to be fine so please don't worry too much." Y/n spoke almost as if she knew that I was about to complain about how long her recovery would take.

"Alright, love, I trust you." I told her as I gently caressed her lovely face.

"Thank you for everything." Y/n said as she gave the doctor a small bow of gratitude.

"Anytime dear, and if those remedies don't work please feel free to come back so we can try something else out." the doctor spoke. She then gave us the tea and ointment meant for Y/n and the two of us were on our way home.

"Want to ride on my back again or are you feeling well enough to walk?" I asked my wife

"The doctor gave me a cup of that tea and it made me feel well enough to walk myself, so I'm gonna try to do that as long as I can." She told me which made me admire her strength.

"You're so flashy you know that." I complimented her

"You tell me that all the time, but thank you Lord Tengen." she giggled

About more than halfway to our home her pain got too much for her to bear. So I quickly put her on my back as we walked the rest of the way back to our home and back to our worried wives. As soon as we walked through the door and put Y/n down, Suma, Makio, and Hina all flocked to Y/n. She explained what was wring and the remedies to cure her pain.

"Oh Y/n I'm so glad that we know what will help you now and we promise to take care of you." Hina reassured

"Of course we will!" Makio and Suma spoke simultaneously

"Yeah, don't worry Y/n we'll take good care of you." I spoke to her as she gave me that sweet smile that I just adore so much.

Thank you so much for reading! I apologize for taking so long with the request. My writers block was crazy!

Please feel free to like, comment. reblog, and request!

click here to see what I'll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters except Y/n•

-L.W.L

308 notes · View notes

insxghtt · 2 years

Text

opposites attract — aemond targaryen x reader

You and Aemond were complete opposites, but he kind of loved it.

warnings: aegon being an asshole, mentions of blood, lots of fluff

this was based on this request. i have to say it again, english is not my first language so i’m really sorry if you find some mistakes here. anyway, i hope you like it!

Aemond was completely in love with you. Since the day that you walked in the castle for the first time, at 6 years old, complaining about the uncomfortable dress you father, Lord Lyonel Strong, made you wear. At that time, you were the only one who never made fun of him for not having a dragon. And when he lost his eye and nobody dared to look at his face, you were the one making him feel better.

“I look like a monster”, he said.

“Are you mad? You look like a fucking warrior, Aemond”, you smiled. “It is part of your history now and I think it’s beautiful.”

That was the moment he realized you were the one. He never said it out loud, but you were not stupid. The way he looked at you was very obvious, so you gave the first step.

He would never forget the day he took you to meet Vhagar. She was surprisingly kind to you. Aemond was smiling and it was impossible to hold back your urge to kiss his lips. So, you did. And since then, you two became something. None of you gave it a name, but it did not seem necessary. He was yours and you were his and that was all that mattered.

Your relationship was a secret for most people, but it was clear that you two cared a lot about each other. Sometimes you wondered if he would marry you. You were not an heir to anything. A marriage would not be exactly benefic to his family since your father was already an ally to the Targaryens.

When you were 15, you decided you wanted to fight. Ser Criston Cole refused to teach you, so Aemond would come to you after every lesson to train with you. You fell in love with the adrenaline, so once or twice you’d sneak out of the castle to pick on boys your age. It was funny to see their faces when they realized they just lost a fight to a girl.

Aemond hated it. Sometimes you came back with bruises and cuts. You and him would have long arguments and in the end, he would just take care of the wounds so you didn’t have to tell anyone.

But it was too much for him when, at 16 years old, you came back with a black eye and a lip cut. He made you promise that you would never get into fights again and, well, you couldn’t say no to him.

By the age of 18, you were just as good as him when it came to fighting. The problem was that, even though you were very ladylike most of the time, some people like Aegon could make you so angry that you lost all your composure.

It was what happened that night. You were invited to supper with all of his family and, as always, Aegon was drunk. Aemond was holding your hand under the table, trying to make you feel more comfortable. It worked for a while. At least until Aegon’s comments were directed to Aemond.

“So, when are you going to find yourself a wife, brother?”, he asked. “Maybe you should start to look for a blind one. It will be easier to make her say yes if she cannot see you face.”

“Do not worry about me”, Aemond smiled, taking a sip of wine. “It must be already exhausting to worry about all your bastards outside these walls.”

You coughed, trying to hide your laugh.

“Aemond!”, Alicent scolded him.

“Forgive me, mother. I was merely expressing my concern for my dear brother.”

“I’m not offended”, Aegon said and looked at you. “It just seems to me that my brother’s whore has not been pleasing him enough.”

The comment made your blood boil. He was right there, calling you a whore in front of everyone, making fun of his brother, and nothing would happen to him.

Alicent slammed her hand on the table. “That is enough! All of you to your chambers”, she said but nobody moved. “Now!”

Her voice was loud and it made all of you stand and leave the room. You knew that the right thing to do was just to ignore Aegon’s words. But still, you were so angry that your cheeks turned red. As soon as the door behind you closed and Aegon turned away to walk to his chambers, you could not control yourself.

“Aegon!”, you called him, ignoring Aemond’s voice telling you to stop.

It was too late. Aegon turned around and all he could see was your fist. The punch hit him so hard on the nose that he fell to the ground. He took his hands to his face and saw blood.

Helaena got scared with the sound of the punch and ran back to the dining room. Aemond held your waist, stopping you from throwing another punch on his brother.

“Are you fucking insane?”, Aegon yelled.

“Insane? You haven’t seen me insane!”, you tried to wriggle out of Aemond’s arms, but he held you tighter, easily lifting you off the ground.

“What is this?”, the voice of Alicent made you stop but still, Aemond didn’t put you on the ground. She looked at Aegon, who was still on the floor with his hand on his nose, trying to stop the bleeding. “Who did this?”

“I did”, Aemond said and you looked at him surprised.

Obviously, it had been you. You were being held, there was blood on your hand. But Alicent couldn’t blame you, Aegon would never assume that he was punched by a girl, Helaena was your friend and Aemond would never snitch on you.

“What?”, you whispered to him and he put you down.

“Aegon was being an idiot, so I punched him”, he ignored you and kept talking.

“Is this true, Aegon?”, she asked.

Aegon just looked at you with anger and snorted. “Yes, mother.”

Alicent sighed and helped her son to stand up. She removed his hand that was covering the wound to take a look at it. “You just had your nose broken for being an imbecile. Congratulations.”

You wanted to laugh, but you were feeling too guilty to do so. You didn’t regret breaking Aegon’s nose, but you felt bad because now Aemond was taking the blame.

She turned to you and Aemond and you felt your body stiffen. “You two. Go to your chambers now before I change my mind”, you nodded and started to walk away. “And Aemond”, she called and you stopped next to him. “We will discuss this in the morning.”

He just nodded. You and Aemond walked through the halls of the castle in silence until you finally got to your bedchamber. Before you opened the door, you turned to him.

“You didn’t have to...”, you started, but he didn’t let you finish.

“I wanted to.”

You gave him a sad smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be”, he said with a smirk. “That was quite nice to watch. You are getting better every day.”

You rolled your eyes at his flirty comment. “Your mother is furious, Aemond.”

“She’ll understand.”

“No, I promised you I wouldn’t fight like this again. I was impulsive and reckless and...”, you could not finish the sentence once again, because this time he shut you up with a kiss.

Aemond had the best kisses. They made you feel warm inside, it was like his lips were made to touch yours. First, he liked to put his hand on your neck, with his thumb touching your chin. Then, he gently pressed his lips against yours.

Aemond was always so delicate when it came to you that it was impossible not to melt. During the day, he didn't have much physical contact with you. Part of him liked that, because he could see how much of an impact just one of his touches had on you.

“You are perfect”, he whispered when he pulled away.

He was still so close to you and now his thumb touched your lips. For a moment, it felt like you were drunk, but you knew that it was just the effect that he had over you.

And then, suddenly, he turned and started to walk to his room, leaving you standing there. Your lips were parted and your eyes wide in shock. He was just going to leave?

“Is this some kind of cruel punishment?”, you asked.

All you heard was his laugh as he continued to walk away. You wanted to go after him and make him stay, but you were just too proud to do that. So, you just walked inside your bedchamber and spend the rest of the night thinking about that kiss.

#aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond imagine #house of the dragon #hotd x you #house of the dragon x you #house targaryen #aemond fanfiction #ewan mitchell x reader #house of the dragon aemond #aemond one eye #writers on tumblr #writing

2K notes · View notes