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gayerthanevertbh · 1 year

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my tears ricochet.

pairings: older!natasha romanoff x fem!reader

n.r masterlist | navigation | n.r one-shots masterlist

summary: after your divorce from natasha, life was never the same again. and when you and her revisit the past, it made you realize how much you were always in love with her.

warnings: unprotected sex, g!p natasha, dirty talking, pet names, sex on the couch, fingering, dry humping, angst, and fluff - 18+ MINORS DNI.

word count: 4.7k

author’s note: hopefully you’ll enjoy this one!

You were once married to an Avenger. You felt seen and loved by this Avenger at some point, and you never doubted their feelings for you. But as time goes on, you two grow apart and lose touch with one another's emotions. You've become the stereotypical housewife who cooks for their individual party, provides the best sex that they require so that they never have to seek it elsewhere, washes their clothes, and takes care of them as they should be taken care of. But as the routine continues, you find yourself wanting more. The problem is that you feel guilty. Why should you feel bad about wanting more? Why should you feel guilty when everything is perfect? That's where you feel completely alone and unnoticed by the woman you love.

It continued for a year or two after your daughter turned six. You remember vividly that night when you had dinner with your family, and Natasha came home that night on a very cold night – well, morning. She was devastated, her hair was all over the place. She looked unhygienic, and you didn’t want to admit that to yourself. When you saw her by the door, you were angry. You were demanding her time for your daughter, but she always gave the same excuse. I’m doing this for our family, Y/n. Can’t you see that? You do appreciate what she gives. In fact, you never complained in your life.

After that argument, you brought a file of divorce papers and gave it to her before she left for another mission the following month. She appeared distressed by your actions and begged you - repeatedly - to wait for her until the mission was completed. But you simply told the older woman, "I'm done with this cycle, Nat. I can't do it anymore." When she got tired of convincing you to stay, she just nodded and left.

She was gone for at least 3 months around that time.

And when she returned home from Budapest, she found an empty house. The couch she bought in the first month of marriage was still sitting against the wall, but the majority of the furniture had vanished. She dashed into the bedroom, where she found the bed clean and an old vintage lamp on the floor. That's when she broke down - that's when she realized she'd messed up her marriage and that she'll never get you back.

Five months later, you won custody of your daughter with Natasha. Although Natasha could still see her daughter, you had complete control over whether or not she could take her out of the state. But Natasha mostly just listened to you and respected your wishes. She would come to see you twice a month, mostly to look after Riley while you were at work. And when you returned home, Natasha would leave you food that she had ordered while you were away.

Everything you two had in the past had come to an end; you were now civil with her, which was a new routine - and you liked it at times, but you missed her. You must have missed her terribly. It's as if whenever she was away on a mission or simply unavailable, you would reflect on the times you spent with the woman. She was so caring, intelligent, and romantic that you wondered if you could ever be as romantic as her. She gave you everything you deserved in life. So most of the time, you felt guilty and unwanted.

You wanted your wife back, your wife that she used to be.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and you looked at the window noticing that the skies were gray once again. It had been raining in your state for quite some time, but you’re sure enough that there’ll be a storm around nighttime. You were making lunch while listening to quiet jazz music until Riley came to the room and asked: “Can I see Francis today, Mommy?”

You turned over your shoulder and jutted your lower lip out, knowing that it was too dangerous to go out and play.

“Honey I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s possible today.”

She sighed, holding her teddy bear close to her chest.

“Francis wants to play with my dolls,” she said in a very tiny voice. “And there’s no school today, why can’t I play with her?”

“Because there’s a storm coming, sweetheart. We have to stay at home for now,” you walked towards your daughter and pecked her left cheek. She smiled at your gesture, it definitely warms your heart. “But guess what? Mama will be visiting later! She brought something for you.”

Her face brightens up, as her grin widens. “Really? Mama bought me another set of trains?”

“Well, she said it was a surprise,” you responded, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “But don’t worry, I’m sure my little girl would love it.”

After you finished preparing lunch, Riley went back to her room, and you continued working in the kitchen. Suddenly, you heard a bell coming from the front door. Natasha came into the house after hearing your daughter squeal before you could turn around. She ran to her mother and immediately embraced her tightly around the neck.

“Oh, my baby,” Natasha sighed, kissing her forehead. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“I missed you too, Mama,” Riley whispered, giggling as Natasha pinched her soft cheeks. “Did you bring me a toy?”

“Hmm, if I could get a kiss first.”

After giving Natasha a second peck on the cheek, Riley jumped to the ground to retrieve a box from behind her. You looked back at your daughter, curious to see what she had received from Natasha this time.

“It’s a train! The one I wanted!”

“I’ll give you everything you want, my darling. Everything.”

You chuckled, your arms crossed tightly across your stomach. “You’re spoiling her too much, Nat. She’s gonna expect this from you whenever you come back home from work.”

The older woman smiled at you kindly, and replied: “It’s the only time that I get to see her, so she deserves everything.”

You could tell by her smile that she yearned for you to give her another chance, which caused you to look away from her gaze and give your attention back to the kitchen, leaving the two pairs alone and playing.

You had this strange feeling inside of you that yearned for her as well, but you couldn't say it out loud. You could never admit that you missed her, despised her, and still loved her. You noticed Natasha playing with another toy train with Riley as you brought three plates to the dining table. You enjoyed watching them play; it was one of your greatest joys.

You can't say that out loud either.

You kept your mouth shut as always and continued to become hysterical.

As the hours passed, Natasha was putting Riley to sleep in order to get back to her house before the storm hit. You had just finished picking up, which meant that you were prepared to head to bed as soon as the older woman departed. As you passed by your bedroom, you noticed that Riley's door was cracked open just a little bit.

You decided to give it a shot and observed the two girls conversing.

“Do you miss Mommy?" Riley inquired, her face stricken with sadness: "It hurts you to see it.

Natasha nodded, which wasn’t so surprising.

"I do," she said quietly, as if it were a dirty secret, and pushed some of Riley's hair away from her face. “But it’s over now, sweetheart. We both agreed to be with you, though. So you’ll always see me, okay?”

“You’ll never disappear?”

Natasha smiled, tears welling up in the brim of her eyelids as she softly kissed her daughter's forehead. This scenery made your heart clench, and you realized how much it hurts to lose someone you care about in this way. It hurts way too much, it’s almost insane that you feel this way.

“I will never disappear, baby. I promise.”

“Do you still love Mommy?”

Natasha chuckled, placing the teddy bear in between your daughter’s arms.

“I love her with all of my heart, Riles. I will always love your mother.”

This feels like a train wreck for you, and you absolutely hated it.

"I hope Mommy loves you too," Riley yawned, her eyes fluttering shut as slumber overtook her. Natasha sighed deeply and turned off the bedside lamp. You hurried downstairs and prepared her jacket for her before she could leave the bedroom, so you wouldn't have to talk to her when she leaves.

You turn your head when Natasha comes back down, rubbing her left eye tiredly before smiling sadly at you.

“You have a place to stay?” you asked, knowing that somewhere deep in your heart, you’ll always be concerned for her.

“Yeah, I’ll be in New York for a little while before I find a new job.”

A new job? Since when did she want a new job?

You couldn’t help but ask, “What do you mean by a new job?”

The older redhead looks at you briefly and gazes at the ground, replying quietly to your question. “I retired.”

“From being an Avenger?” she nodded. You never expected this from her, not in your damn life. Why would she quit now? Her being an Avenger revolved around her life, it was her first happiness before she met you. So why would she quit now? You can’t keep your mouth shut.

“Why?”

She tucks her hand into her pockets, looking at you with bright green eyes.

“Because I’m done being an Avenger,” she said. “I just… want to live a normal life.”

“H-How are you going to get a job? You’re a criminal everywhere, Nat. I don’t think it’s–”

“Tony will be sending me money every once a month,” she chuckled, taking a few steps closer to you. “I deserve every ounce of it, anyway. But while he does that, I’ll do my best to find a job. Probably work as a mechanic, who knows?”

You nodded, giving her a sidelong glance.

“You’re gonna have a hard time.”

“I know,” Natasha whispered, giving you a sad smile. “But I can do it.”

“I know you can.”

For a while, neither of you moved, until a thunderclap shook the sky, causing you to jump. You chuckled as you walked into the living room and sat on the edge of the couch.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t like the sound of… that.”

“I know,” she chuckled wholeheartedly because deep down inside of her, she knew everything about you. Likes and dislikes. “You’re still cute.”

“Don’t flirt with me like that.” you pointed out, straightening your voice.

“Don’t flirt like what?”

“Like you want me back.”

Natasha pushes back her hair – which you notice how short it was – and asked quietly, “You don’t want me to flirt with you?”

“Does it look like I want you to?”

"No," her heart clenches at the sound of your voice, making her more tense - which sometimes scares her because she doesn't like seeing you angry; it's one of her flaws. “But you know my answer, you know what I want.”

She can be too honest at times like this, too bold whenever she has the chance. You gave her a solemn look before turning away. Because showing your vulnerability to her will make you appear to want her as much as she does. But you want her, and you want her badly.

Natasha walks in front of you and kneels on the ground, softly touching your knee with her calloused hands. You look at her gesture but don't appear to move away from it. She looked at you with puffy cheeks and eyes that were more sorrowful than usual.

“Have you found someone else?”

You shake your head, she continued.

“Do you want me back?”

You shake your head once more, and this is when she lets out a quiet sympathetic laugh.

“You’re lying to me, Y/n.”

“I’m telling the truth,” you stated, pushing the tears away from your eyes. She tries to hold your hand, but you pull away from her grasp – showing a hurtful expression on her face. “Natasha, we can’t.”

“I promise I’ll be good to you this time…”

“That’s–” you let out a stressful sigh and pinch your nose bridge. “I don’t want to fight, okay? We both agreed to be civil for our daughter, so let’s just keep doing that.”

“I never stopped thinking about you.”

“Nat–”

"I still love you," her voice and touch become more desperate. "When we divorced, I never looked at anyone else in my life except you," she sniffled. “I never dared to touch a woman because I still love you. Did you know that? You have no idea how many times I've thought about you in a day, how many times I want to love you all over again - like you deserve to be loved."

You pushed her away as you turned your body away from her, more tears streaming down your cheeks. You've become weak once more, far too weak when it comes to her. Natasha tries to touch you, but she stays put.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you muttered, throwing your hands in the air. “Who asked you to be devoted to me after our divorce? You’re making yourself miserable because I’m never going to fall in love with you ever again!”

“You know what you’re saying is not true, Y/n,” Natasha shakes her head, biting her lower lip. “You know that’s not true.”

“You’re just a pain in the ass for not believing it then! God, you’re so hard to talk to.”

She mumbled, “Fine. Maybe I’m a pain in the ass, but at least I have never lied to you. I have been devoted to you since I first met you, and I never looked at anyone the moment I fell in love with you. You’ve become my whole world, my entire being. You are what I breathe and what I take, you are what I need when I go to bed and when I need to be loved. Every time I get back home from a mission, I crave your hugs. Because they only make me feel better when it’s you because it’ll always be you!”

You let out a hiccup, which you never expected, and watched Natasha’s throat bobbing as she controlled her tears. You were supposed to have a good night, but things got out of hand once more and you just painfully wanted to go to sleep and forget about how you two got here. But your emotions took over you, and it did for her as well.

“You were always gone, Natasha,” you sobbed, feeling your voice lighter as you hugged your torso. She turned her gaze away from you, knowing what she had done. “I respect what you do, but I needed you as well. I needed you to help me take care of Riley, I needed you when we were going broke. I needed you when Riley turned s-six, and I needed you when I couldn’t handle that cycle anymore.”

"But you weren't there," you sniffled, wiping your tears with the hem of your shirt. "You decided to spend more time with your friends at the pub, decided not to read my message when I needed money for the rent, and especially when it was our wedding anniversary! You didn’t give a damn about me and our marriage, you only cared when you were hurt! But what about me, Nat? What about me? I was always hurting when you were gone!”

“Baby…”

You lift a finger at her, letting out a sarcastic laugh. “Don’t call me that, you don't get to call me that.”

“I’m sorry–”

"I know you're a loyal woman," you said, smiling briefly. "I believe you would never cheat on me. But sometimes maybe I prefer you cheating on me so I have a reason to leave your stupid ass! You hurt me, Natasha. You're always causing me pain! And you know what’s worse? I still fucking love you!”

You tried standing up to avoid the agonizing silence, but two strong hands held your waist down, her head motioning to your chest. She sobbed alongside you, desperately kissing your neck. You tried to push her away, but you let her hand move to your torso until she wrapped her arms around you tightly. Natasha sobbed until your shirt was soaked in her tears.

"I'm here now," she said quietly, looking you in the eyes as she always does. “I’m here now and I’m so sorry you felt that way, darling. I’m sorry, okay? I’m really sorry for everything, I didn’t mean to hurt you this way. I just… I wanted what’s best for you a-and our beautiful daughter.”

You were aware of this. Of course, you were aware of this. Natasha would go out of her way for you and your daughter. She would move the moon for you, giving you what you needed until you could truly say you were satisfied. But money, even if it was luxurious, was not always the solution. It was her love that prevailed.

“We’re meant to be together,” she continues to sob, holding your face as she brings your forehead against hers. “You’re always going to be the first girl I’ll lay eyes on. I love you so much, darling. I love you too much to let you go.”

You shake your head, knowing that you could always come back to her with her sweet words and innocent touch - which you didn't want. But, knowing yourself too well, you desired that above all else in the world.

She took advantage of the opportunity to softly kiss your lips, letting out a quiet moan as she feels your lips after a long time of desperately wanting to taste you again. She draws your face in closer, refusing to let you go. She probes the depths of your mouth, re-memorizing you - as she always does. You couldn't push her away because you felt her tongue on the roof of your mouth. Natasha has captured your heart once more, and you know you don't want to let go.

The older woman pulled away with a smacking sound before whispering, “I fucked up bad, I know that now. But I promise you, I will be good to you this time, little girl. I promise, okay? I’m here now, I’m never going far away again.”

Give her a chance, explore the moment. You want her, you know it yourself.

You stared deeply into the wonders of her eyes, taking a moment of happiness. After months and months of sorrow, of mourning for that matter, you finally have her again – you needed to take it all in.

“I know,” you smiled, feeling more tears in your eyes. “I’m giving you another chance.”

Natasha gently pushes you back onto the couch and separates your legs so she can get in between them. She kisses you slowly and sensuously, her hands exploring the side of your waist until her fingers are hooked into your shorts. "I've thought about this moment, did you know that?" she pulls her lips away for a brief moment.

You moaned when you felt your shorts being pulled down from your legs, feeling the cold air hit your skin as you felt more of her open-mouth kisses on your jaw and all the way down to your neck. The redhead brought her thumb to your face cheek and made circular motions while staring down at you, smiling to herself. Finally, she had you once again. She couldn’t believe it.

“D-Do you want to do it here?” she asked hastily, after removing your undergarments. You nodded, looking from the side to find protection – which seems to be not in the living room since you don’t put those kinds of stuff in your house. And plus, you haven’t had sex in a while. “Baby, I don’t have a condom with me.”

"It's okay," you said, catching her lips and feeling her warm breath enter your mouth. She moaned lowly above you, unbuttoning her pants and pulling them down to her ankles. “You have to pull out, though.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, her tongue darting on the skin of your neck, groaning to herself. “Oh, you make me so happy… You want me to fuck you here? Out in the open? What if our Riley–”

“She’s dead asleep,” you giggled, massaging her dick through her boxers as you received a long, strained moan from her, which turned you on even more. “You’re getting hard, Tasha…”

“Rub it, baby,” she whispers, rushing down her words. You squint your eyes to see an evident wet patch on her underwear, continuing to stroke your hand onto her covered cock. “Oh fuck, that’s it–Mmph… your hand f-feels so good.”

You take your time to stroke her cock through her boxers, watching her whimper and biting her lip to prevent letting out loud sounds wake your daughter up. You enjoyed doing this, watching the woman immensely falling apart for you, and the more you stroked her harder and faster, the more she rolls her hips down on you.

You began to ask, “You want to fuck me?”

“Uh-huh,” she muttered, her thumb circling your clit, smirking as you began to let out tiny moans. “Y-You like it when I touch you like this, kotenok?”

“Please–”

"You're so wet for me," she says softly as two of her fingers spread through your folds, almost entering your tight entrance. She shudders above you, then continues to finger your cunt until she is satisfied. “I’m gonna put it in now, okay? Let me just pull down my underwear.”

Her cock grew another inch after she removed her boxers. She almost sits up and strokes her thick length, watching her bulbous head turn red with torment. You observe her hand stroking her penis while your inner walls clench each time pre-cum dribbles on your lower stomach, a string connecting to your skin and to her head. She slides her hand beneath your shirt, gasping as she feels your nipple harden against her palm.

“Gonna break you in, again?” she chuckles, strongly kissing your lips. You held her face as the tip of her cock was at your entrance, moving the head up and down to gather more of your juices – which felt sensitive. “Shh, keep your voice down little girl, you’re gonna wake our daughter up.”

Once she slid inside of you, you and her moaned together as the air thickened around the room. Natasha holds your waist closer to hers, slowly ripping you apart once again. She stutters out a moan before pressing her lips on the corner of your mouth, pushing more of her length until both of your pelvises have touched.

“Fuck,” she whispers, looking down at both of your sex. “Y-Youre so tight, and so warm… you take my dick so good, little girl.”

“Tasha,” you moaned out her name as your voice got pitchier. “T-Too big.”

“You can take it,” Natasha mumbled as she slowly pulls out, pushing back in once again without any restraints. “Too small for my dick, huh?”

She continued this motion, slowly pulling out and pushing back in while peppering kisses all over your face. You scratched her back, wanting to hold onto something while she let out a hiss, but smirked because she liked it whenever you did that to her. The older woman starts to pick up an unusual pace since you both had to be quiet or else you would get caught red-handed.

“I like the way your pussy clenches around me,” Natasha grunted as she got turned on even more by the sloshing sounds coming down from your cunt. “You like this, huh? You like being fucked by me? Ruining you all over again? Tell me you like this…”

You gasped for air as you fluttered your eyes closed, feeling her thick cock pounding into you slowly. “I-I love this,” you mewled. “Go faster, Tash. Ruin my pussy.”

“Argh, you want me to ruin your pussy?”

“Uh-Huh…”

She withdraws her length from your pussy, slapping her head against your clit, causing you to moan aloud. “Okay, baby. I’ll ruin this fucking tight pussy.”

Natasha covers your mouth with her damp hand as she continues to roll her hips into you, the couch creaking and shifting slightly. She thrusts into you at a faster pace, your skin slapping together, filling the room with wet noises. She smirked, biting her own lip and containing her own pleasurable moans as she looked down at your sweaty face.

“Can’t c-control myself when I’m with you,” she whispers breathlessly, whimpering each time her head hits your spot. “Fuck, you’re taking me all in, huh? You’re such a good little girl, baby. Such a good little girl…”

"Ah!" you screamed into her hand as you felt her penis pistoning inside of you, the creaking of your couch becoming more audible, and you're sure Riley's room can hear it. You put your hand on her hips to slow her down, and she did. But she kept giving hard thrusts, moaning each time she was buried deep inside you.

“You make me want to bust my nut into you,” the woman panted hard, her hips making circular motions to keep maneuvering her cock inside of your depth walls. “Gonna remove my h-hand now, okay? Stay quiet.”

She slowly moves her hand away from your mouth and kisses your lips with such need, her hands moving up and down on your waist as she continues to fuck you on the couch, her ass clenching each time she hits the spot inside of you that she loved. She looked behind her shoulder to see if her daughter was awake, but she was glad she wasn't anywhere near both of you.

She continued to pound you hard into the cushions, lifting your hips to the side so she could go deeper into you.

“Ugh yeah,” she whined as she shut her eyes tightly. “Shit, shit shit… Take it all in, sweet girl. F-Fuck me!”

“You feel so good inside of me,” you let out a long moan, threading your fingers through her short hair. “Keep going, Tasha. K-Keep going.”

"Oh my fucking god, you're taking me so well," she begins, making the entire couch shake and creak loudly. She didn't care if anyone heard you both, but if her daughter awoke from the strange sound coming from the living room, she would quickly pull out. Despite knowing her daughter was a heavy sleeper, she continued to rock her hips back and forth until there were red marks on your thighs. “Take it, take it, take it…”

Your moans started to get louder and louder, and you were holding Natasha tightly from her back as you felt your inner walls being abused by her penis, her thick long dick. The woman starts to helplessly moan and kisses your mouth hard.

“I’m gonna fucking cum all over your stomach,” she whispers slowly to you, bringing your hips up and down to take her length all the way inside of you. “You wanna cum with me, baby doll? Wanna cum with me? Oh fuck, I’m going to blow–”

Natasha pulls out quickly as she presses the tip of her cock against your clit, furiously rubbing it to catch your orgasm. You grabbed her neck and screamed, "I'm cumming! I’m gonna cum–Oh my god, Nat… I’m gonna cum!”

“Me too, baby! I’m here now–shit!”

You roll your eyes back as you feel your legs twitching from your orgasm, the head of her cock rubbing up and down on your clit, intensifying your orgasm. As the world darkens around you, you arch your back, knowing that it has become this much for you. Natasha looks down at your face and pumps her cock hard, spitting thick sperm all over your cunt, coating your clit and folds. She lets out a deep moan and thrusts her dick into her hand as she continues to cum. Her thick sperm coated your cunt, but most of it was on your lower stomach.

Her balls contracted as she continued to pump herself. As soon as she slows down, she sighs heavily and hugs you from behind, kissing your reddened cheeks while smiling softly down at you. Natasha whispered, “That was amazing, baby girl. You did such a great job for me.”

"Thank you," you muttered as you fell asleep, too tired to speak and too tired to think. Natasha recognized this and decided to kiss you on the cheek one last time before standing up to find a blanket for the two of you, butt naked. She decides to slip her unhardened cock inside your vagina once she is comfortable with her position behind you and sleeps peacefully on your warm walls hugging her dick.

i got lazy at the end but hope you enjoyed this one!

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x yn #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #black widow x you #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff smut #a's oneshots!

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thewulf · 3 months

Text

My Purpose || Aragorn

Summary: Request - Can you do a Aragorn x Female Reader where she’s from earth not middle earth? Like the modern reader in middle earth trope? Reader dies in an accident of some sort and wakes up in a field in Rivendell. It’s right before everyone is gathering for the Council of Elrond... Read Rest Here

A/N: LOVED writing this one. Aragorn is just... the best. This one got away from me, as usual. Thank you for the requests!! Hope you like this as much as I loved writing this :) Love a good modern girl in middle earth trope!

Pairing: Aragorn x Female Reader

Word Count: 7.5k +

TW: swords, blades, training, homesickness

It still didn’t seem real. The vast valley with flowing waterfalls where the light seemed to hit perfectly. Standing out on the balcony of the room you were given for however long you were permitted to stay you watched as the city ebbed and flowed throughout the day. You had no idea how long you sat there watching from the mansion of the home of the elf-man that had found you for you had no idea how to tell time here. You’d either lost you phone or the elves had taken it from you. The thought of actual elves sent shivers down your spine. It had only been a few days since you’d woken up in this place that definitely wasn’t close to home. There wasn’t even electricity that you could tell, at least not in your room. It wasn’t that you weren’t given the opportunity to leave you just didn’t want to. These elves were terribly intimidating, so beautiful and even the children seemed to stand taller than you.

Nobody had so much bothered you other than Elrond coming to check in on you a few times throughout each day with food in his hand each time. It wasn’t until the fourth day that he came without it.

“Miss Y/N.” He spoke at the open door leading to the balcony. He had tried knocking at the door a few times. He was more concerned than anything when you didn’t answer for it had become a sort of a routine at this point for him to greet you at your door. You never really wanted him to come in further, so you never invited him in.

You jumped slightly in your stupor being interrupted by your usual companion, “Lord Elrond. I’m sorry. I was just watching, didn’t hear you.”

He nodded before walking out to sit next to you on the bench you were already occupying, “Are you well? A friend of mine has told me you have been out here in a daze nearly all day.”

You turned your head to him with a small smile, “I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“What ever about?” He pressed. You had been fairly tight lipped about how you ended up here. It’s not like you wish you couldn’t tell him about how you got here you just didn’t know. You were… different. Your clothing was something he had never seen. You had called them jean pants and a polyester blouse. You might have been speaking an entirely different language. Regardless he had given you back you clothes plus some elven dress clothes that he had hemmed shorter fort you. He was pleasantly surprised that on the third day you were wearing the newly provided elven clothes to your strange human clothes.

“Home. The memories are starting to become harder to recall. It’s weird. It’s like they’re all fuzzy. I’m afraid…” You swallowed back a frightening wave of emotions as you spoke to the kind elderly elf, “I’m afraid I will forget it all. My mom and dad. My friends and family. What it was like… It was nothing like this.”

He grabbed for your fidgeting hand that was clearly in distress, “Tell me what you can recall. I will not forget. I will tell you of your own memories.” He bowed his head towards you letting you know his utmost sincerity at the request.

Giving him a sad smile, you gave into his request finally. It did you no good to hide it all away and seem to forget it completely. Then you may never make it home. Telling him was really you only option at this point, “I miss my mom the most. We never got along the best when I lived at home, but we’ve become close after I’ve left home for school. I was just hoping that if I never make it home that she had some sort of closure.” You sighed feeling the weight of reality setting in. You thought maybe you would just wake up int you bed one morning but that was certainly not happening.

He cocked his head to the side, “You went off for school? Tell me about your mother. What was she like?” He pressed knowing you would crave these memories should you forget them for some odd reason. You were a puzzle for Elrond. He couldn’t connect the dots.

“Only once you become an adult. Once you turn eighteen you can enter the workforce full time or go to advanced education called college or university.” You paused thinking further about his second question. Your mother. What was she like? She was remarkable, “My mom is an angel. She thinks of those she loves above all else. She taught me how to be a good human. How to be kind in the face of adversity. How to face challenges head on and with a smile on my face. She’s the reason I’m not sitting here crying every day. But the thoughts of not seeing her again… I knew it would happen one day just not so soon. Not before I got married and had kids and… I’m sorry I’m rambling.” You quieted down almost afraid to look into his eyes once more.

“You are lucky to have her. Do not give up. We have not talked to Gandalf. He has just arrived and wishes to speak to you. He’s been informed of your strange arrival.” Elrond spoke hoping it would be easy to persuade you to come with him outside your room in his home.

“Gandalf?” You asked. It sounded so familiar. His name so strange yet I come right to the forefront of your mind as if you’d heard it before when he spoke it.

Elrond nodded holding out his hand to you, “He is a wizard. If anybody should have answers it would be him.”

“A wizard?” You’d remembered Harry Potter, maybe he could whisk you home through some Floo powder or something of the sort.

Elrond nodded his head, “A very dear old friend of mine. He may have better knowledge than I on your situation. I have scoured all the libraries of Imladris and could find no such cases as yours.”

You took his hand letting him lead you through his home and out the back towards the gardens you’d come to know and love in your short stay thus far. You opened and closed your mouth a few times to continue the conversation between you and Elrond, but you could not find the words to ask the question you wanted. When you finally stopped you were greeted by exactly what you pictured a wizard to look like. He looked like Dumbledore. Your heart warmed in comfort as his eyes crinkled into a smile.

“Y/N, my dear. Elrond has told me so much about you. It’s lovely to meet you.” He walked over towards you making sure to greet the both of you. His eyes, however, never left you. He was all too curious of the mortal human girl not from middle earth Elrond had told him so little about.

You dipped your head in slight unease over the entire ordeal. You, indubitably, knew that you were the talk of the town but to hear it out loud sent your heart racing. Being the middle child growing up meant you spent your life hidden and out of the way. Overshadowed by your older siblings accomplishments and overlooked for your younger siblings needs. You kind of felt like you were just floating by until you had moved out and your relationship had grown drastically with your mom and siblings.

“Uhm, likewise. Sir wizard.” You gave him that shy smile where your head tilted to the side trying to read him.

A subtle chuckle emanated from the elderly man’s lips, “You may call me Gandalf, dear Y/N. Now, we don’t have too much time before the council joins this afternoon for a final decision to be made. Come sit, Lord Elrond will join us. Start from the beginning, do you remember the last time you were home?” He led you to the small table in the garden that was likely used for afternoon tea, not for conversations such of these.

You knew you’d have to tell your story all over again so you might as well get it over with, “It was cold. A really cold and miserable day in Indiana. Middle of winter. Lots of snow. Blizzard like conditions.” You sighed recounting your seemingly last minutes on earth. You’d concluded you had died but it was weird to say it out loud. To admit your defeat, “There was a really bad accident on the road home. Big pileup. I was able to stop my car in time but the people behind me were not able to. My car was pushed under a semi where I was trapped. I don’t remember much else other than panicking because I couldn’t get out… My car started making weird noises. I’m pretty sure my engine exploded from being crushed in a way it shouldn’t have. I’m pretty sure I died.” You frowned accepting your death. God, you hoped your family had closure. That they were okay.

Gandalf bobbed his head considering your story, “What is a car? A semi? An engine?” He needed help with your strange words he’d never heard of before. Surely this was proof enough that you were from nowhere near here.

You laughed more to yourself than at his lack of knowledge, “Cars are new in my world. We were using horses and carriages not even a hundred years ago. A car uses and engine to propel forward instead of a horse. It uses some sort of fuel and ignition to propel cranks and wheels forward making your car go forward. A car is just an enclosed carriage. And a truck is just a massive car to transport goods.”

He continued listening to you, “That sounds like an unpleasant death.”

You hummed in agreement, “For what it’s worth I don’t remember it hurting. Just waking up here in the middle of a field. I’m fortunate to have run into his sons and not something more sinister from the sounds of it.”

Gandalf ran his hands along his beard, “Fortunate or you were placed for a reason. Curious.” He paused giving you another once over before continuing, “Elrond speaks as if you know of this world even though you may not be from here?” The old wizard pressed as his eyes bore into yours even though you couldn’t quite meet his gaze completely.

You agreed with him, “Yes, some things seem familiar. Like I’ve seen things here before.”

Elrond finally spoke up, “Tell him what you told me the other night. When you first got here.”

You turned your head looking between the two males, “I asked if you were gathering to talk about the ring.”

“How do you know of the ring?” Gandalf looked between you and Elrond with a perplexed expression on his face.

You shook your head trying to recall but the memories were becoming fuzzy. The further your time away from home the harder it was becoming to recall memories from your time there, “I believe it was a story of some sort where I’m from. We have books as well and it was a book written for entertainment.”

Gandalf eyed you before turning his attention to Elrond, “You must keep Y/N in your home. If you are correct and the fellowship is formed later we may need your knowledge before we partake on the quest. Even after.” The wizard’s eyes flashed with a newfound hope having you show up the most opportune of time. The more he thought about it the less curious you become. You were becoming more and more so seemingly a gift from Eru Ilúvatar himself.

Elrond bowed his head in acceptance of Gandalf’s decree, “How are your quarters now Lady Y/N? You may have an extended stay. I can move you to a different spot in the house if you would like.”

“That’s not necessary. The room is great.” You gave him a genuine smile and thumbs up before turning back to Gandalf, “But what about home? Lord Elrond said you may be able to get me home?” You asked with the same hope you seemed to give him.

But his frown told you all that you needed to know, “My child. You had died on your home. You have been given another chance. Likely because we prayed for you and you passed on too early in your own life.” He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze from his seat next to you.

Your eyes drifted down in that sadness you had been holding back. You knew that was somehow going to be the answer, but it still didn’t sting any less actually hearing it from him, “So I’m stuck here?” The question came out closer

Elrond took the liberty of grabbing for your hand trying to provide any sort of comfort, “You get to live out the rest of your life here.” Gandalf nodded knowing that was exactly what you didn’t want to hear.

“Can you tell me if my family got closure? They know I’ve passed?” You asked feeling squeezing Elrond’s hand right back, thankful he had given you that small amount of comfort. It had been days since you’ve had physical contact with anyone or anything. You thought you hated it but man did you miss it. You craved it.

The wizard gave you solemn shake of his head, “For that I cannot be certain young one. But I can be certain that you have been put here for a reason. You have been given another chance. I would not waste it.” Gandalf rose giving you and Elrond a bow before walking away, “I must take to conversation with Boromir before this afternoon. I shall see you in due time.” He waved more towards Elrond than you leaving you that much more confused than when you had started.

Your eyes upturned to Lord Elrond still holding your hand from the seat next to yours. His kind brown eyes had turned sympathetic in the news Gandalf had given you. All he could do was offer his own kindness to the ever out of place human girl giving him a crushed look, “You are more than welcome to stay here in Rivendell. Most of the residents and my children have decided to set sail as the time has come.”

“Thank you.” Giving him a small smile that hardly reached your cheeks you let the news consume you. You were quiet as he led you back to your room. Your official room now that you had zero plans of getting out of here. At least it was easily the most beautiful place you had ever seen.

“Lunch will be soon. Shall I bring you a plate or would you care to join me in the halls this time?” He asked pressing his luck once he had dropped you back off in your room.

“A plate is fine. Thank you again Elrond. I’d like to think on my own for a bit if you do not mind.”

“As you wish.” He bowed before gliding off. He sent one more concerned look before you shut yourself out from the elven world. Damn. You were stuck in a place called middle earth. Who would’ve thought this could’ve been your life?

You found yourself in the same gardens later that night after your handmaiden had brought you dinner. Flush with emotions you found yourself crying and not being able to stop once you’d found a somewhat secluded spot hidden away.

“Excuse me miss? Are you all right?” A man had asked breaking you out of your own head full of thoughts and tears. Your sniffles must have drawn the dark-haired strangers attention to your quiet corner that nobody had seemed to bother you in, until now.

You turned seeing that handsome man you had spotted a few times since the Council of Elrond had begun. You were all too curious what they discussed for hours on end, but it had to have been critical so many seemingly important people to gather to discuss matters. Wiping away your tears with the sleeves of the elven dress all you could do was nod rapidly, “I am okay. Just terribly overwhelmed is all.”

He cocked his head to the side looking you over, “You speak differently than any human woman I have talked to. You must be the mortal girl Elrond has spoken of?” You did not have the height nor the ears to be an elf he concluded. But, you certainly had the beauty to rival an elf. Aragorn was quite taken aback at your doe-eyed expression on his even though your eyes were blood-shot from the many tears you had spilt.

Letting out a laugh you could only agree with him, “If only you know how weird you sound to me too. But yes, I am.” You confirmed by meeting your eyes with his icy blue ones. You pushed back your rushing thoughts of just how stunning this stranger was. Everybody here in this middle earth seemed otherworldly. Beautiful beyond belief. A far cry from your home however far away it was.

His eyes roamed over you for the first time up close. He had seen you sitting on the balcony from Elrond’s residence a few times in the few days he’d arrived. But this was the first he’d seen the other worldly girl up close and personal. Elrond made no mention of your simple beauty. Your big, beautiful eyes laced in a red stain from the tears you’d been clearly crying made his heart twist unexpectantly.

He too was in the process of grieving a loss of his own. His Arwen, his first love, had taken to sailing away. Truly, he had no idea what she would choose in the end and chose the best for herself and her family. He could never blame her, no. He pushed her to go do exactly that. He would always have love in his heart for the ellith he could never have. How blissful were the few years he got to spend with her… they were everything and more. But she had to go. Elrond, her father, pushed her off a few months ago and that was that for him. He was no stranger to the sadness in your expression.

“Dare I ask why?” The man walked towards you stopping just shy. Closer than any of the other elves or man had dared to step to you. Other than Lord Elrond, your healer, and Ioanoa, your handmaiden, assigned to you by the lord for the time being.

His eyes looked innocent enough. Might as well tell him as you really didn’t have anything to lose anymore. You’ve already lost it all, “I am forgetting everything of my home. I barely remember my mom’s face now. I’m worried I’ll forget it all. I have to accept that this is my new life. I just… I never got to say goodbye. I can’t remember everyone anymore, but I know I had people I loved, I just feel it.”

He contemplated what to say for a moment as he had never come across a situation so complex as yours before. He did not know what to tell you. He could never fathom your situation. Essentially dying in your own reality to wake up in something so different only to forget where you came from? Aragorn shuddered at the thought. He might’ve even gone mad at the thought.

“Fear not. They will not forget you. They will always be looking for you or have thoughts of you. You may forget the fine details of them, but you will never forget of them and their love. Like you said, you can feel it.” He placed a hand over his heart praying his words offered you some sort of comfort.

You looked down wiping the fresh tears away, “What if they do forget me?”

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder drawing your eyes back up to him, “From what I hear it sounds like your mother had much love for you. As long as she walks in her world she will have love for you. As long as you walk in middle earth you will have love for her.” Aragorn was nervous as he met your eyes once more. He felt relief wash over him as you kept his gaze and gave him a gentle smile. You weren’t mad, not in the slightest. You looked relieved at his words.

“Thank you, sir.” You had yet to get or catch his name. You’d learned of a few of the other members through Elrond’s stories, but he had yet to come up. He seemed to be human. You couldn’t spot anything that made him stand out as anything other than. But who new in this middle earth.

He returned your soft smile with one of his own, “Aragorn is my name.”

“Thank you, Aragorn. Mine is Y/N.” His eyes remained on yours as you couldn’t keep ahold of his gaze. He was daunting in the best way. Handsome beyond belief. Words of advice more than you can dream of. Smarter than any man on earth you’d had to converse with. You’d been talking to him for less than thirty minutes, yet you had deduced he was the entire package. The first man you’d met on this planet was far better than any man on your earth.

He nodded taking a seat at the bench you were previously occupying, “Would it be rude of me to say that I already knew of that? You have been quite the discussion amongst the fellowship and council.”

You continued to stand there unsure of if you should join him or not. Would it be weird if you just stood there? Would it be weird to sit on the already small bench with him? Thankfully he must have seen your dilemma as he patted the seat next to you, inviting you to sit next to him. Trying not to make things more awkward for yourself you obliged sitting down next to him before continuing the conversation, “You all talk about me?”

He broke out into a cheeky grin, “Aye. You are most of the conversation. We cannot figure you out.”

Oh, was that all this was? He was simply trying to figure you out? That deflated whatever hope you had right then and there, “There’s not much to figure out. I’m a girl not meant to be here.” The tone of your voice came out more bitterly than it had prior sending Aragorn on edge. Had he said something?

“Indeed. That’s the perplexing part. Why are you here?” He asked more to himself than to you. A question nobody could seem to answer for a sure fact.

You shrugged, “Has to be by mistake.”

He shook his head, “I do not believe so. Nothing happens by chance here. The Valar have placed you here for a reason. We may not know now but we will soon figure it out.”

You let out a soft laugh, “How different your world is than mine.” Failing to elaborate you just looked ahead longing for your home. It was lovely here, but it wasn’t home. Even though you forgot most of what made home, home. You still longed for something you couldn’t completely remember.

“What do you miss the most of your home?” He asked hoping that talking about it would help take your mind away from the sadness that seemed to be overcoming you. Talking to you was helping him immensely. He had no idea how heavy the council’s discussions had been plus the loss of his love was weighing heavily on him. But talking to you seemed to help even if he didn’t even realize it.

“I think it’s my family and friends. As boring and monotonous my life was my family and friends were just down the road or a drive away.” You frowned having a sinking feeling you’d never see you best friend or brother again. You’d never get to tell your mom and dad how much you loved them.

He nodded, “I live a very… nomadic life. I understand the heaviness your heart undergoes. My love, she left not too long ago. I have been wandering ever since she set sail.” Aragorn admitted to you. It came out all too easily. You had admitted what was making you sad it felt too natural to do the same. He wanted to be vulnerable with you. So different from how he felt with nearly everyone since Arwen had left.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest. You felt guilty for talking about you when his heart was hurting just as much as yours, “I’m so sorry. I have never truly been in love. I can’t imagine how that feels. I hope it gets easier for you.”

“Talking to you helps, my lady.” He smiled grabbing for your hand hesitantly. When you didn’t pull away he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, “You are a great mystery, fascinating beyond belief, seemingly selfless and kinder than the day is long. As sad as you are I hope that you can find the beauty in middle earth too.”

“That’s very kind of you, thank you.” You looked away sure that there was a blush coating your cheeks, “I do find it beautiful here. Your world is not polluted like mine is. The air is fresh, the animals are plentiful, the water is safe. It is like an old version of a world that humans have not destroyed.”

He frowned, “Just humans?”

“Yep. There are no elves or dwarves or hobbits where I’m from. There are no evil monsters or magic or any kind, that I know of. Just humans and a polluted world.” You hummed missing your messy home.

He looked at your warily, “I will not lie, that sounds miserable miss Y/N.”

You laughed, your hand was still sitting in his comfortably, “We know no different. It is rather boring compared to all of this.”

He cracked a more genuine smile than you had seen from him yet, “You are honest. Be careful.”

You sighed, “Here too?”

“Bad people take advantage of good ones.” He nodded his head solemnly, “You are fine in Rivendell though. The elves will treat you well, as a novelty.”

You scrunched your eyes trying to figure out why, “Why? Because I’m a human?”

“Your entire lifetime is less time than it takes for them to mature to adulthood. There is nothing that anyone here could want from you other than to learn about mortality.”

You blinked at him, “Are elves immortal?”

He nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Indeed.”

“Oh, wow.” You gulped at the knowledge.

“In fact, humans have the shortest span among sentient creatures in middle earth.” He said as if you weren’t already a little more than freaked out by the new revelation of the home you had been invited too earlier in the day.

Considering his words you continued along, “Makes you feel a little useless.”

He continued looking at you as you got vulnerable with him in turn, “On the positive side, nothing you can do can’t be undone. It cannot be messed up too severely.”

Your smile reached your eyes for the first time since you’d landed in middle-earth thanks to this handsome man, “I like your optimism Aragorn.”

He reached for your hand like Elrond had earlier giving it a soft squeeze, “I heard the news of your guidance from Gandalf. I am sorry your life on your earth was cut short to be here. But I am thankful for the gift we have been given. I am sure you have heard of the formation of the fellowship by now. It will be but a few fortnights before we depart as we prepare. I hope to see you soon before we are set to depart.” He spoke as he knew the journey to Mordor would be long and deadly.

“I am planning to attempt to pick up a sword here tomorrow with Elladan as a teacher here tomorrow at sunrise. If Elrond doesn’t have you busy then maybe you would care to join us?” You invited him taking any chance at the opportunity to spend time with him.

He bowed his head slowly at you, “I will see to it. Until then, lady Y/N it has been a pleasure talking with you this evening.” He stood pulling you up with him, “I trust that you can make it back to your chambers on your own?” He looked around hesitantly knowing it was perfectly safe here in Rivendell. Likely safer than anywhere on your home earth considering the elves were guarding it.

“I can. Thank you. I’ll see you in the morning.” You waved as he walked away. As much as you tried you couldn’t erase the silly little smile that crossed your face as you walked back to your room.

Aragorn was not there when you and Elladan began to train. Nobody had informed you how downright exhausting it was to hold a sword, defend yourself and attack all at the same time. You’d never felt so damn weak before as you worked up a sweat within minutes of beginning the session ordered by Elrond. Lord Elrond was going to see through on his promise to Gandalf. He was going to keep you safe. Who knew how you fit into the puzzle of destroying the ring and saving middle earth? Keeping you safe meant making sure meant knowing how to wield a weapon.

“Not bad, keep your eyes moving though. Someone could sneak up right beside you and strike.” You heard that same voice from last night. He kept true to his word by placing a dull blade against your rib cage. One more move and he could slice into your side if he wasn’t careful. But you had the feeling he was being more than careful.

You took the opportunity to rest and lowered the heavy blade you’d been sparring Elladan with and turned to the taller human male next to you, “Spare me. This is the first time I’ve picked one of these up.” You motioned to the dull blade meant for sparring, “These are heavier than they look.”

“You are faring quite well for it being the first time you picked up a blade.” Elladan smiled taking a few steps back seeing the way Aragorn was watching you. It was the same way he had watched over his sister after they had professed a love for one another. A spark that had vanished after Arwen left nearly half a year ago. Yet here you were. A human girl not even born under the Valar, hand-picked by Eru Ilúvatar to be here, giving Aragorn a hope that he so desperately needed before this quest.

You laughed after catching your breath, “You are just being nice. I’m an out of shape mess.”

Elladan took a few more steps back while shrugging his shoulders, “You’re a natural then, my lady. Forgive me. I must go. I see my father calling. I see that Aragorn can continue your lessons?”

You being none the wiser simply shrugged looking between the two of them who had funny expressions written on their faces as you waited for his answer, “I do not see Lord Elrond summoning you.” Aragorn raised his eyebrows challenging the ellon as he knew what Elladan was playing at. For he might have been accused by the twins for harboring a liking towards you after the few interactions he actually had. Aragorn, naturally, refuted it as he hadn’t even properly talked to you until last night. But even he knew that sentiment was growing truer the more he spent time with you. The weird speaking mortal girl from a different world.

Elladan offered a soft chuckle, “He’s already retreated. Need not worry Aragorn. You’ll take it from here?” He asked this time before actually walking away.

“Aye, Elladan. I’ll take it from here.” He waved him off before turning to you, “Why don’t we start you with a blade more suitable to your size?” He asked before leading you off towards the equipment area.

“Are you calling me weak Mr. Aragorn?” You grinned feeling suddenly giddy you’d gotten him alone twice in such a short period of time. Your mood was rubbing off on your attitude. Even though you were already tired, sweaty, and felt gross you were thrilled for the sudden change of instructor.

He shook his head quickly while searching for something smaller for you, “Nay my lady. The blade you were yielding is far too big for you. We just need to find you something more in line with your arms. For a blade is but an extension of your arm.” You watched as he sorted through the different blades lining the walls before pulling one that hadn’t been used in some time down, “This will do quite nice for you.” He handed it to you for you to get a feel for.

It was far lighter in your hands as you held it and swished the air quietly in front of you, “You were right. This is very nice.”

He grinned seeing you able to hold the blade far easier than you had the man-made sword that was far heavier than an elf-made on you were holding, “Keep that with you. Elrond will want to see that later. I think he’ll get a laugh at who used to own that particular sword.”

“Used to?” You questioned placing the lighter blade in a sheath at your hip.

His eyes crossed with an unfamiliar emotion as he nodded his head, “Indeed. Elves take nothing with them when they sail to the Undying Lands.”

You just looked at him with confusion in your eyes, “I’m going to need you to elaborate on this Undying Lands place.”

He sighed knowing you were clueless when it came to middle earth and its customs, but it didn’t make the thought of where Arwen was off living any less painful. Not that it was your fault for asking, “It is where most immortals go when they are called. After their lives on middle earth are complete. Most elves go. My Arwen was called not too long ago.” He added knowing he didn’t need to. But he wanted to. Something about you made him feel comfortable enough to delve deeper with you.

“I’m sorry she could not stay with you.”

“I am too.” He smiled to you knowing just talking about it with you was healing for him as well, “But it is for the best. She does not fit into this world any longer.”

You walked with him back out to the training fields that were slowly getting busier with random groups of different elves alike training and practicing, “Can I tell you my thoughts?” You asked him after a long while of comfortable silence between the two of you.

“Always, my lady.” He pulled his own training sword out of its own sheath waiting for your next words carefully.

You mimicked his actions, “That sounds like a miserably long life. At least where I’m from. That would be so tiring.”

He held his sword up waiting for you to mimic him, “I must agree. It makes sense why they take yearlong breaks then, no?” Aragorn laughed as he watched you more easily following along to his stances and postures.

“I’d still like to take a yearlong break.” You admitted earning another beautiful laugh from the handsome man that was becoming more of a friend than a stranger. The rest of the morning went as such. Aragorn showing you a few moves before he had your try it out in practice on him. Elladan wasn’t lying, you had a natural skill with the blade. A few of your maneuvers caught him off guard for you being so new, nothing he couldn’t deflect. But your potential was there.

As he walked you back to Lord Elrond’s residence he decided to break the growing comfortable silence that seemed to occur more often than not in your presence, “You did well today, Lady Y/N. You are very much a natural with the blade.” He complimented you as you got closer to the residences front doors where he knew he would have drop you off. Surely your handmaiden would be there waiting to take you off to your next venture. He’d watched as you started as a cooped up and frightened girl who opted to stay in your chambers rather than show her face but in the week he had been here he had seen you slowly open up to the outside world after you’d seen it could cause you no harm.

Your heart rate sped up at his words. You spun on your heals once you made it to the door, “Thank you Aragorn. I had a wonderful instructor who showed me the way.” You giggled seeing a small blush rise to his cheeks at your kind words.

Aragorn was right that he would have to give you at the doorway, but he wasn’t expecting a usually busy Lord Elrond to be waiting, “There you are. You said you’d be back before lunch. It is nearly dinner.” He knew you were in perfectly capable hands being with Aragorn. He asked more to tease his friend more so than scold you. For it was not only his sons who had noticed his growing affections towards you, but Elrond had noticed as well. He’d missed nearly an entire day’s worth of meetings to train you. But Elrond also had the utmost faith in the future king to be making the right decisions. If that meant spending the day with the beautiful mortal girl then that’s what he was going to do.

You looked down in embarrassment for being called out on your tardiness so forthright, “Ah, my apologies. We got carried away with the lessons.” You patted your side letting him know you had quite literally been training for the last ten hours.

Lord Elrond smiled at the both of you, “I am sure Aragorn had his reasons. Now come, we are already late for dinner.” He pulled you inside where you only could wave to him before Elrond had closed the door after bidding his own goodbye. Elrond gave you a wicked smirk as he led you down to the dining room on the other side of his residence.

“What’s that look for?” You asked trying to play off your absence as training and nothing more, that’s all it was, right?

“No reason. None at all. Nothing to do with Master Aragorn.” He grinned letting you through the door before him.

“It was training!” You tried to defend yourself before the twins barged in on your conversation.

Elladan scoffed at the table, “Hardly. You couldn’t wait to push e

You gave him an exasperated look, “You were the one who ran away!”

“I could no longer stand the longing looks between the two humans.” Elladan smiled knowing he was changing the story to fit his narrative better.

“Oh whatever.” You grumbled grabbing for the salad that sat in the middle of the table earning a round of laughs from all the elves who had happily taken you into their home.

You walked into the hall that contained the sword that eliminated Sauron the first time, Isildur’s blade. And there he was, the man that you had been looking for sitting there staring at the blade that clearly haunted him. He must have lost track of time thinking as he promised to continue training the next day, the day before leaving on the quest.

“Elrohir said I could find you here.” You spoke quietly hoping not to startle him.

He jumped slightly. His head turned to you giving you a bow, “I have been spending quite a bit of time in here.”

“Why’s that?” You asked, pressing.

He sighed, “Thinking. About the ring. The quest. The danger. The hobbits. All of it.” He admitted letting the weight of it crash, “My susceptibility to the ring.” He added as you stepped closer to him.

“But you are not him, Isildur. Lord Elrond told me all about him, he knew him! You are nothing like him Aragorn.” You gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before he shook you off gently.

That haunted look was still superimposed on his face, “It is his blood running through my veins as his did! Weak!” He sounded more upset than you had grown to see him in the few weeks you had gotten to know him.

“That’s untrue. You may have the same blood as him, but you are far from weak. You simply admitting that you are susceptible to its evils proves you to be anything but weak Aragorn. You are stronger than any man on my earth and any middle earth man I’ve come to know, although it’s not too many.” You laughed off the last bit hoping he would see his strength that had helped you grow further than you could’ve imagined in your short time here.

He looked at you with a new look as he heard your words. A look filled with adoration and love, “How do you know exactly what to say?” His eyes frantically searched your face as he realized your purpose being here was to help him as well. You were doing a flawless job at it. First with Arwen and now his insecurities surrounding the ring. How did you do it?

You smiled taking his hands in yours. Carefully, one by one, you snaked your fingers in between his before locking them down in your grip. You prayed it gave him some of the comfort he had given you over the last few weeks, “It’s easy with you.” It came out as more of whisper. You knew he had lingering feelings for the ellith he could no longer have. Why couldn’t you take her place?

You watched as he gulped. His eyes moved from your hands laced in between his, “Are you still searching for your purpose, my lady?” He asked as he took a daring step forward towards you. He heard as you breath got caught in your throat at his overly bold action.

You shook your head slowly, “I am not. I have found it.”

He nodded his head. Slowly he broke his hand away from yours. In place he brushed away the stray hairs that had been coated to your cheeks. The wind had displaced the stray hairs that blocked your view unknowingly. He relished in his touch on your warm, soft skin. He noticed the way your skin erupted in goosebumps under his touch, a physical reaction letting him know you felt the same way as he had. It had amazed him how quickly he had developed such deep feelings for you over the short time he had known you. With Arwen it was slow and took years only to crush him in the end. But with you it was fast but steady. Quicker than he anticipated but it made sense to him.

“May I ask what it is, my lady?” He brushed his hand along your cheek enjoying the way you seemed to squirm under his touch.

You closed your eyes knowing you wouldn’t be able to take it back but what did you have to lose? He was leaving with most of your new friends anyway. Might as well lay it out on the line, “Helping the fellowship, trying to guide Gandalf, you. Many such purposes.”

He cracked that smile that you’d grown to find a great comfort in, “I was hoping you may say that.” He didn’t dare drop his hand as he let his large hand cup your face. Your eyes fluttered closed as his pointer finger rubbed back and forth underneath your ear. It was like a form of kryptonite you did not know you had, “You know I must guide Frodo on this quest. But I can promise you that I will come back as soon as I can to you. For you are my purpose too, Lady Y/N.” He grinned loving the way that you seemed to melt right into his touch. As heartbroken as he felt from the loss of Arwen it did feel like you were sent here to mend his wounds right on up. He was not kidding. He found a purpose in you. His purpose.

Your eyes opened up looking into his once more, fully letting yourself fall into his touch, “My purpose.” You nuzzled your head into his calloused hand that had seen more battles than you could ever even imagine. For as difficult as your transition was into an entirely different world he had made it that much easier. You’d found it. He was it. Your purpose.

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mixelation · 2 months

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itachi lying about getting his mangekyou from thinking he saw tori die is such a concept omg. Like truly gaslighting everyone.

team 4 really is gaslight gatekeep girlbossing their way through life :)

here's some dialogue lol

“It’s become apparent we need to be better at communicating,” Itachi said, standing in front of them like he was reporting to the Hokage. “We need to have a better understanding of each other’s limits and foreknowledge.”

Itachi did have his mangekyou. Tori had not needed to jump off a bird.

“But did you want Kushina-sensei to know you have it?” Deidara asked, confused.

Itachi stared thoughtfully at the wall behind Tori’s bed.

“I suppose not,” Itachi said finally.

“Then you’re welcome,” Tori replied dryly. “Does anyone know you have it?”

“No,” Itachi said flatly.

“....do we need to fake a reason you have it?” Tori said cautiously, and Deidara immediately opened his mouth to ask what that meant.

“That would be… convenient,” Itachi said slowly, ignoring Deidara’s questions.

“Okay, you can’t just announce we need to be better at communicating and refuse to communicate, yeah,” Deidara complained.

Itachi stared at him. Tori let out an exaggerated sigh.

“A regular sharingan evolves to a mangekyou under extreme emotional distress,” she told Deidara. “Like, extreme distress. Kill-someone-you-love distress.”

“Oh,” Deidara said, sounding taken aback, a rare emotion for him. After a beat, he asked, “Is that why you killed your family?”

“....No,” Itachi said.

They stared at each other. Deidara’s eye started twitching.

“That is a whole conversation we don’t have time for right now,” Tori said. “Although, Itachi, we should have a conversation eventually.”

“I know,” Itachi said, finally pulling his eyes away from Deidara.

Tori decided to change the direction of the conversation and turned to Deidara, sitting next to her on her bed. She kicked the side of his leg.

“What about you? Still got a seal in your chest?”

“Not yet,” Deidara said, hand automatically going for the mouth in his chest. “I didn’t need it until puberty.”

Apparently, at some point during his growth spurt when most people’s chakra reserves naturally expanded, his chakra had gone haywire. Deidara was born with crazy large reserves; puberty had expanded them to levels he’d been unable to control. Iwa had sealed a bunch of it away out of fear of him blowing himself up. It was rare but not unheard of in people with Explosion Release.

“That possibility is something you should have mentioned months ago,” Itachi said. “Kushina-sensei could–”

“I might be able to control it this time,” Deidara cut him off. “The seal they do is permanent. I don’t want it unless it’s necessary, yeah.”

“I’m sure Konoha’s multiple fuinjutsu masters–” Itachi started.

“I can take any seal off,” Tori interrupted before Itachi implied Konoha would be inherently better at managing Iwa’s bloodline limit than Iwa and Deidara started yelling. “But don’t you dare put me in a position where I have to make one up on the spot because you’re on the brink of exploding. Go tell Kushina-sensei they told you you’d need one when you were a kid, or Kurotsuchi mentioned it or something.”

“Fine,” Deidara griped and then solved half a croissant into his mouth. Then he glared at Tori. “And what ‘bout you?” he asked through a mouthful of bread. “What can you even do?”

“Uh,” Tori replied.

Tori was not even sure she could die.

“You can’t, like, tell?” Deidara asked.

“No,” Tori replied. “I think I’d have to talk to the Shinigami to find out, and that’s not an experiment I’m prepared to repeat casually.”

“It would be convenient,” Itachi said, scratching his chin like he was having some sort of idea. “If you died temporarily, that would explain my mangekyou…”

As touching as it was that Itachi considered her a friend, Tori refused to do this unless Tsunade herself was immediately on hand. She definitely didn’t want to discover she was mortal now and actually die. And if she lived, she didn’t want to permanently damage herself.

“My fuuinjutsu is probably on par with what it was before,” she said, changing the subject. “In theory I have more options because I can use chakra now, but I haven’t explored those much yet.”

“And you can melt people now, yeah,” Deidara said, then kicked her leg back. “You don’t have any other insane medical techniques you just forgot could have combat uses, do you?”

Tori stared down at her coffee cup, thinking this question over. She’d never gotten very good at the chakra scalpel technique. Could she use basic healing techniques for anything…?

“I hate that you have to think that hard, yeah,” Deidara told her.

#reborn au

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imagobin · 2 months

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🔯How the Zoldyck Siblings react to you being hurt🔯

For this scenario, you were hurt in a fight they didn't witness. We're keeping this one platonic! But they all just genuinely care about you. Just a thought I had because I recently fucked up my hand and need comfort lol

🪡Illumi🪡

Illumi doesn't tend to show a lot of emotions with his face. The moment he sees you're hurt, his gut reaction is to widen his eyes and make his way up to you.

The first couple steps are at a normal pace, but then, all of a sudden he's right next to you, and he's already inspecting your injury. His demeanor is calm, as usual, but he is a bit concerned on the inside.

He starts asking you questions, wanting to determine how much pain you're feeling, if you're hurting anywhere else, and also when and how you managed to hurt yourself, or if someone else did this. Whoever's hurt you has pretty much signed their death sentence.

If you're still distressed or crying, he'll feel a bit awkward, but attempt to comfort you by giving you light head pats. "There there, it'll be okay"

If after his masterful attempt at comfort you're still in distress, he'll wonder if he's doing something wrong, maybe he can try a different approach. No matter what kind of injury you got, Illumi's gonna pick you up (that usually succeeds in getting people to stop crying) and carry you back to the hotel to patch you up himself, his big brother instincts have taken over.

---

🎮Milluki🎮

It may come as a surprise (or not), but Milluki is actually so caring with the people dear to him, it's mostly his mother, but you are up there too!

He'll first make sure nobody's watching him, because he doesn't like to act soft around the wrong people, he doesn't want to be mocked into oblivion by say... Killua lol

He rushes towards you, panicking and asking a hurricane of questions. "What happened?! Does it hurt a lot?! Who did this to you, who do I need to kill???"

It's a bit overwhelming, but he means well, though don't expect him to follow through with the killing thing if the person who hurt you is stronger than him. He'll still act cool in front of you, saying he'll get whoever harmed you.

He's not confident enough to patch you up himself, so he brings you to the butlers' quarters and gets them to do that instead. The butlers are pretty surprised to see Milluki care so much about someone who isn't part of the family.

While the butler's tending to your wounds, he tries to distract you from the discomfort of that process by chatting with you about one of the interests you guys have in common.

---

🪀Killua🪀

Killua may not ALWAYS show that he cares, but you are a dear friend of his, so the moment he notices you're hurt, he does panic a bit on the inside, and shows genuine concern.

He wants to know how you injured yourself, if you tripped or if someone did this to you. Once he finds out it was because of someone else, he blames himself a bit. "If only I'd been there, I could've helped you- and you wouldn't be in this state now"

You find yourself having to calm the 14 year old down, it's okay, he couldn't have known. And besides, you're not terribly wounded, it hurts but... you can handle it.

Killua takes a deep breath and nods, he's just glad to see you're not in a worse condition, and immediately starts to think of what he can do for you right now.

He does think about asking Nanika to heal you, but decides against it, not wanting to take advantage of his sister's powers as a quick fix. He's more than happy to help you mend your wounds though.

He has turned away from his assassin life, but nothing's stopping him from finding the person who hurt you and heavily threaten them, just to make sure they'll never bother you again.

---

🧸Alluka🧸

Alluka is the sweetest child, if she sees you're hurt she's going to run up to you and hug you tight. She may be 13, but she's still quite childish, so that's how she expresses her care.

You explain to her what happened, how you got into a fight and lost, and that's how you got those injuries. You assure her you're doing okay now, aside from... the pretty obvious cuts and bruises.

Alluka seems upset by this and puffs up her cheeks "That's not fair- what a big meanie! y/n, please be more careful next time!" You promise her you will.

Once that's settled, she begins to drag you by your sleeve/hand, where? You have no idea, but she seems to be very determined. Turns out, she was taking you to Killua, those two are never too far from each other.

She asks her brother for her band-aids, Killua takes one look at you and understands the situation and fetches them from his backpack. They're those cute band-aids with drawings on them.

Alluka takes things very seriously and starts patching you up herself. If asked why she's using those specific bandages, she'll simply explain that they make things heal faster, because they're cute.

---

🪭Kalluto🪭

Kalluto isn't a boy of many words, but he shows he cares through his actions. As soon as he notices you're hurt, it only takes him one look to see those injuries weren't accidental, and you can tell from the look in his eyes that he's upset by them.

"Who?" he simply asks. If you don't answer to him immediately, he'll be more persistent. He needs to know who did this to you so he can do just as much to them. He's confident in his combat skills, so he's certain he won't have a problem teaching that person a lesson.

He'd also ask you if you want to come along with him, so you can hear your enemy's suffering; the boy does have a pretty sadistic side to him, though he'll understand if you don't want to participate in that.

He'll try to make sure he does a good enough job in patching you up so you'll be okay. He knows he could ask Machi to do something about your injuries, but he doesn't want to rely on the Phantom Troupe for everything, especially since they don't trust outsiders.

He's very thorough in bandaging up any cut or bruise he sees, although it's not a very masterful job, it's the thought that counts, and you're grateful for it. It makes him happy to know he was able to do something for a friend.

---

#hxh #hunter x hunter #hxh headcanons #zoldyck #zoldyck family #zoldyck siblings #zoldyck headcanons #illumi zoldyck #milluki zoldyck #killua zoldyck #kalluto zoldyck #alluka zoldyck #illumi #milluki #killua #kalluto #alluka

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octaviasdread · 10 days

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Mrs Perry, the 50s Housewife & Neil

This entire post is inspired by a discord discussion so I can't take all the credit, but Mrs Perry gives off alllll the signals of a 50s housewife reliant on emotional suppression and prescription pills to cope with the demands of post-war society.

'They used barbiturates to aid in sleep, minor tranquilizers to ease anxiety, and amphetamines to help lose weight and boost energy. [...] Women’s pill consumption signals their difficulties, at times, before feminism of the era explicitly touched upon them' - Erin Brown, You Go to My Head: Women's Prescription Pill Use in Postwar America

Her smoking while she waits for Neil to return with Mr Perry from the play suggests a habit to cope with stress. It’s also notable that she hurries to put it out. Is this a further sign she’s smoking to relieve anticipation, or is it something she doesn’t want Neil to see?

And Mr Perry? His treatment of her can partly be explained by patriarchal family structure. What Mr Perry wants, Mr Perry gets. He is head of the family, and takes the lead in family communications with Neil, so much that beneath Mr Perry's repeated use of 'we,' it's difficult to discern how Neil's mother feels.

In the scenes set in the Perry house, we mainly see the family in Mr Perry's study. This direct parallel to Nolan's office INSIDE Neil's home emphasises the rule of authority over his life, and the extent of how trapped he is.

The parallel is important because Nolan's office is shown as a place of punishment for the students, and a reinforcement of their lack of agency.

More specifically, the deleted scenes show school clubs being dictated to the boys as they stand in front of Nolan’s desk. This confirms that school annual - and the editorial position that Neil earned - is taken from him on Mr Perry's whim, just as his whole life is ripped away the next time he stands beside a desk in Mr Perry’s office.

The hurt and betrayal Neil feels in these early scenes is hidden from Nolan, and he submits to the authority of his father. But Neil can no longer hide his hurt by the end. He has gained and then lost too much to accept the stricter controls Mr Perry is imposing.

So what does Mrs Perry do when faced with her son's obvious distress? Almost nothing.

Her worry for her son is real, but she shows no true support that Neil can rely on. He looks to her for help and comfort twice. The first time, she looks down, then back at Neil, and says nothing. The second time is after she begins to speak, but her one attempt fails, and she falls back into passivity.

She stands aside. It's as if Mrs Perry isn't really there, stuck behind an invisible boundary observing the damage as the scene unfolds.

It's only when Mr Perry leaves that she provides some fleeting comfort - but this comfort doesn't feel present to Neil. She doesn't articulate her support, doesn't touch him, or make signs that Neil can grasp without doubting her belief in him.

Instead of prioritising her son, she follows Mr Perry without complaint, leaving Neil to grieve alone for the loss of everything he holds dear.

This tiny scene says so much about the dysfunctional family dynamic Neil has been raised in. It's impossible to say when it started, or when his mother stopped advocating for Neil's emotional wellbeing, but there's definitely a bond - however strained - between mother and son that isn't shared with Mr Perry.

As @desire-mona has said, Mr Perry uses his wife and possibly her health to guilt and manipulate Neil into following his demands. There's definitely an argument to made for Mrs Perry having fragile health. If this is physical, or a 'nervous' ailment historically diagnosed in housewives, or a combination of the two isn't clear. Whatever it is, she must not be upset.

This puts a lot of pressure on a child, and Neil (understandably) complies under the threat. As the above scene implies, Neil is blamed, and likely blames himself, if Mrs Perry's symptoms get worse around the time he disobeys, or just fails to please his parents.

The Perrys different reactions to stress are clearest at the discovery of Neil's death. The shock causes Mr Perry to bypass anger (although anger returns in his search for someone - i.e. Keating - to blame) and his care for Neil surfaces. This is the first time his care is shown through sympathetic emotion rather than demands for Neil to succeed.

Mrs Perry hurtles into denial. Her body is reacting to distress, but she can't comprehend reality. 'He's alright,' she repeats, retreating into a fragile imagined safety to cope.

@pencileraser1 has also linked the parallels between Mrs Perry and Neil smoking to the possibility of an inherited mental illness.

Being raised in an emotionally abusive household, and internalising the shame of not conforming to Mr Perry's ideal would be enough to contribute to depression in Neil. But I think both mother and son could share dissatisfaction and a desire for escapism.

When faced with the constraints of the larger system they live under, their mental illness plays out in different ways.

Neil finds a healthier outlet behind the backs of authority through the club, acting, and finding an adult mentor to support him, while Mrs Perry has little to no opportunities to escape the confines of the home or the scrutiny of her community.

Once these opportunities (and coping mechanisms) are taken from him, Neil doesn't turn to smoking, escapist poetry, or other forms of temporary numbing. He's seen his parents suburban lives, seen the life they want for him, and perhaps he can't and won't live in quiet compliance the way Mrs Perry does.

I wonder how Mrs Perry copes afterwards? Does she see a decent therapist? Separate (but not divorce) from Mr Perry? Does she take pills and numb herself further? I don't think I want to know.

#you know its exam season when I start posting essays no one asked for #but i was listening to fortnight and thinking 50s housewife thoughts and ended up here #mr perry only breaks his favourite toys indeed #CO Posts #dead poets society #dps #neil perry #dead poets fandom #mrs perry #dps fandom #mr perry

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unicorncornflakes · 10 months

Text

Little One - Story AU! | Chapter 6

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Paring: Reader x Aemond Targaryen.

Summary: You are the only daughter of Jacaerys Velaryon, future lord of the tides. After the victory of Aegon and his side in the war, your family suffers the rejection in Driftmark. There you must always give an account to the king's new hand, Aemond Targaryen. However, when the time comes, Aegon and his court claim you as Queen Helaena's lady-in-waiting. As a new piece of the Greens' strategy to coerce your father, you are taken to King's Landing to begin your life in high society. Aemond will be, much to his pleasure, in charge of guiding you in this new stage.

Tags: Alternate Universe/ Enemies to Lovers/ Emotional Hurt/Comfort Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st, at some points.

Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook @bluevxnus @tempt-ress @bellameshipper @qyburnsghost @croatianprincess @hopeless-addiction-love

Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Acknowledgment: To @ammo23 for the brilliant corrections and the wonderull work as beta reader, for all the patience and the love that always shows for my writing. Thank you so much :D

Word Count: 4K

"What is happening now?" Aemond arrived in Aegon's chambers with a distressed expression, asking what was going on. It was the morning of the tournament and his name's day festivities, and he should have already been dressed. He took a deep breath as he observed the scene before him.

Aegon was pale, bleeding from the same place where he had been drained the day before. A girl twisted and contorted on the floor, nearly suffocated by a sheet wrapped around her neck. She had had to squirm and constrict until she struck him hard in the ribs, reopening the King's still unhealed wound. All the maesters crowded around Aegon's bed, trying to stem the bleeding. However, the girl, who as always was just a poor Silk Street whore, writhed on the ground. She was about to die, eyes glassy and gasping for air.

The girl's vision of darkened without her eyes closing; she knew that she was going to die and that she had been the one who had screamed for her help before Aegon strangled her. However, none of those who had entered the King's chambers had assisted her. She had watched in disbelief, lying on the ground, drowning, as everyone ran to the King's aid. She thought, at that moment, that the last thing she would see would be the boots of the King's hand approaching her, but it was not like that. Aemond, with what little mercy he had left, loosened the sheet around her neck. The girl sucked in a strong breath. Her mouth opened for air like a fish for water after being thrown back after being caught. The girl gasped and cried against the ground. Aemond closed his eye in disapproval. That was all the war had accomplished, unleashing an insatiable monster that no one knew existed - the true story behind the crown.

"Prepare him for the tournament. Now." Aemond ordered as the girl tried to keep breathing. The girl coughed up a mixture of blood and bile that disgusted Aemond. However, he noticed something that he had not noticed before. On that occasion, the girl Aegon had chosen for the night was quite like you, same eye colour, same hair, and same complexion. Aemond's gaze froze upon realizing that detail, and he looked at his brother, who was moaning in terrible pain. He smiled at Aemond with teeth stained by his own blood.

“It feels warmer if you choke them while fucking. Everything is in the strength with which you take their breath away," the King confessed with a macabre smile, and Aemond couldn't take it anymore. As always, the whole situation was beyond him. He approached the bed where the masters attendedAegon, and without saying a word, he held his older brother by the neck and squeezed hard.

"Does it feel good?" he asked him as he squeezed hard with one hand, encompassing the entire neck of his brother. He cocked his head to ask again, "Do you like it?" he asked him in an almost macabre way. No one stopped him, not even the teachers. Everyone in that room would always let the King's hand do whatever he wanted. But, Aemond had only gone mad at the thought that you could be the recipient of those attentions from his brother.

Aegon began to smile, almost believing that Aemond would end his suffering that day, was ridiculous on the same day as his name day was being celebrated. But his brother sneered and smiled. "Can't you finish what you've started, little brother? Can't you kill me like you did Lucerys?" Aegon spat it out through phlegm and blood, and Aemond looked away.

"Dress him and prepare him. Give him the milk of the poppy," the one-eyed man ordered him as he left his brother's room. He would never get over being Lucerys' killer. He would never forgive himself for being guilty of a sin for which he had no forgiveness.

"My granddaughter is not going to go looking like a whore to that tournament" Corlys was sitting in his new quarters in the Red Keep. Having reaccepted the position of naval adviser, Aemond had ordered comfortable rooms to be prepared for him, overlooking the gardens of the fortress, from where he could even see the sea, the great and true love of his life. The tailor watched him as he tried to fit you into the dress Aemond had ordered for you. The poor little man looked fearfully at the King's new adviser.

“But, the hand of the King has commanded…" he began to say, but Corlys cut him off quickly. Anyone could smell the tailor's fear of Aemond, like all the servants in the Red Keep, almost half the nobles of the seven kingdoms, and most of the people of Westeros. No one dared to contradict him in anything.

"He can dress his niece as a girl from the Street of Silk", Corlys said. "You can leave my granddaughter alone. She is going to wear the colours of her house", he explained to the man, who was now moving nervously, taking the dress from one side of that room to the other. You looked at your grandfather with relief, and he smiled reassuringly at you.

"But you don't know how the hand is, my lord" The tailor tried to reason with him again, and Corlys didn't even look at him anymore. He only took another sip from his glass again, ending the discussion. The man withdrew, and only when the two of you were alone did your grandfather speak frankly.

"I always knew that the one-eyed dragon was attracted to you," he said without any kind of affection towards Aemond, and you sat next to him, ready to continue with your breakfast. Now calmer knowing that you would not wear that dress that exposed your entire body. "Has he tried anything with you?" Your grandfather went straight to the point, and you blushed, grabbing the skirt of your dress nervously and anxiously.

"No", you lied to him. You were lying to your grandfather's face; why were you doing it? You were really doing it because a small part of you had enjoyed it. It had been your first kiss. Your first kiss…and you didn't want it to be clouded by the fact that it had been with one of your father's enemies, if not the greatest of them all, the murderer of his brother, Lucerys.

Your grandfather almost appeared to detect your lie, but he just sighed as he continued eating his breakfast. He blamed your reaction on your nerves because of what had just happened a few seconds ago between him and the tailor—that pointless discussion. Aemond might be the hand of the King, but he was your grandfather and the lord of Driftmark. He wasn't going to let half the kingdom see you in your underwear at the most important celebration of the year, at the King's birthday. "Thanks for the dress", you whispered to him sadly, and your grandfather stopped the bite of pheasant that he was going to take to his mouth. He was the one who had been in charge of telling you the night before that your little brother had passed away, and you had cried bitterly until you ran out of tears. Yet you felt guilty. You yourself had thought that it would be better if he had died. Then it would stop being another noose around your father's neck. Your grandfather could understand why you were sad. You were just another victim of his machinations, yet Corlys intended you to be a vital part of his new plan.

“You are my granddaughter, (Y/N)” His hand caressed yours that was on the table and gave it a little squeeze that made you smile shyly. "Last night, you had dinner with the princess, right?" he asked you as he turned his attention back to his food.

“Yes, I think she likes me, and the queen does too. Helaena, not to the Queen Mother," you said quickly, correcting any doubts there might be. You couldn't stand the way Alicent looked at you, as if you were an empty meat bag that her middle son wanted to stick his dick in. She must have looked at the witch just like that, you'd heard she had been Aemond's lover for many years way back.

"I don't think Alicent could like anyone", your grandfather explained to you, looking out the balcony of his new quarters. After a silence that seemed like an eternity, he spoke again, "I don't understand what Aemond wants from you; well, I do understand what he wants; what I don't understand is that if he can have any woman in Westeros, why is it with you whom he has such a…marked obsession," commented your grandfather, almost reflecting to himself. And you looked at the ground, not knowing what to answer. You didn't know what to tell him because you didn't know the answer to those questions either. You had never exchanged more than a word in Driftmark, and Aemond had always watched you in almost stoic silence. "Have you bled since you've been here?" he asked you sincerely, worried about what might be going through any of the Targaryen’s' heads now that you were a woman.

"Once, but... the woman they put into helping me covered for me," you told him innocently and sweetly, and Corlys could only shake his head.

“(Y/N), we told you not to trust anyone. Surely Aemond already knows it,"he said, slightly annoyed, although he was not annoyed with you. He was just mad at Jace for wanting to keep you safe from knowledge. And you turned pale. The truth was that the prince had kissed you the same night that your lunar blood had started, and it was Mistra who had brought you there. You wanted to cry. You were a stupid girl.

"Grandpa, when… when are we going back to Driftmark?" you asked him, full of fear to know the answer that scared you in the bottom of your heart. Corlys returned from his thoughts and musings to the real world. He looked at you with concern as if you really didn't understand the reason why you had been brought here.

"I don't think you're going to come back", he confessed to you in a slow tone of voice, and he tried not to show the pain that it caused him to think that you would be sold to the highest bidder. Women were always treated like merchandise. The question in your case was which side you were going to be better sold: the greens or the blacks. There were no other options in a kingdom where there were fewer and fewer supporters of your father's cause, thanks to the brilliant and Machiavellian management of the King's hand.

"Long live the king!" shouted one of the tournament attendees. One of the many commoners who attended jousting on Aemond's orders. It was important to give the people entertainment, as well as to give them food so that no one would complain, no one would complain, no one would riot. "Long live the king". "Praise Aegon" were another of the many shouts that were heard there. All those screams of joy and happiness. All this praise for Aegon as he went up to his box to watch the jousting was Aemond's doing. Everything in that kingdom, all that good management and good work, was thanks to the most feared and hated of all the children of Alicent.

Aemond would never receive such praise. He was just a murderer in the people’s eyes. monster for the lords of the Realm. He was an outcast amongst his own family. All the curse that fell on his family was his fault. This was only his fault alone.

Aegon finished going up to the box, leading Helaena by the hand, who was also receiving praise from his subjects. They and their perfect image were the product of Aemond. The princess followed, clad in white, almost to emphasize the purity of a girl Aemond suspected she had long ago ceased to be pure thanks to Daeron, but he would not be the one to say anything. He only wanted Helaena to give birth to a boy. That day he could dispose of Aegon just fine. Continue to control the kingdom in the shadows and continue his quiet life as the hand of the King, without murdered girls or sick problems stemming from Aegon's life of excess.

Immediately afterwards, he also climbed the wooden steps that led to the box. The praises, the shouts, the revelry, and the party did not stop. But, the one-eyed man knew that none was directed towards him. Helaena sat next to her husband. The efforts of the maids the previous days had paid off—a true image of winners. Helaena also dressed in white, almost immaculate, Aegon wearing his crown, Aegon the Conqueror's crown, tightly puckered on his head. Achievers. That was what they reflected to all those who did not enter the Red Keep and see his miserable life. In the last row of that box, only two seats for the King and Queen. Aemond sat in the second row next to his 'niece'. The rest of the guests at that privileged view would not take long to arrive, but at least they had already set up the little theatre with the kings, and it had gone well. No Aegon falling over in a drunken state and no Helaena moaning or shrieking in pain. 'Everyone in the Red Keep is a puppet, and the hand is the main puppeteer,' he had had the maiden who said it flogged, but now, as the other lords sat around him and eyed him in judgment, Aemond knew that girl had been right. He hated being hated, but he was used to it. His life would always be like this.

He contemplated in silence as the other councilors arrived to sit in that special place. Their families accompanied all of them. He saw Larys's daughter, who blushed and greeted him silently with a smile as he arrived at the scene. She was smaller than you, and she was lame, but she knew full well that her father wanted to marry her to him. And the problem wasn't her handicap; Aemond would never judge anyone for that. The problem was she was the daughter of Maris Baratheon, and he'd rather have his balls cut off than marry the daughter of such a monster. Besides, that girl wasn't you.

The one-eyed man looked away from the girl almost with contempt, and Maris's face twisted at the gesture of the King's hand. She chided her daughter in a whisper that she should have worn something that showed more flesh. Everyone had heard of the whore's dress that Aemond had prepared for you for that special day.

He couldn't wait to see her so well dressed that day, according to his criteria, of course. He would make you walk around with a harlot, but by doing so, he would also send a message: You were only going to pay for the sins of the fathers, and he would shame you as he offered you like a piece of meat to the highest bidder. And meanwhile, he would enjoy you, although he would never admit it. Still, it was something to be seen from miles away. He thought he was cold as an iceberg in your presence. The problem was that he would never be one, and everyone could see how he jumped when he saw you arrive on your grandfather's arm. Aemond settled into the seat and folded his legs, almost as if trying to avoid showing the erection he had just had from seeing how you had defied him and dressed in the colours of your house. He cleared his throat and didn’t see Larys's daughter's gaze go dull at that. However, the girl did.

You looked beautiful, well-groomed, radiant and on the arm of your grandfather Corlys, who greeted the others present with a wide smile. Turquoise and black. Those were your colours, and with that, your grandfather sent a message to the hand of the King. You didn't think of giving up. You didn’t break. You were still at a point where all was not lost. But, Aemond did not think of that. He only thought about how beautiful you looked and how much he would have liked to take that dress off you later, just the two of you, in his chambers. He was living in a fantasy that he thought you were attracted to him, the same way he was attracted to you. And perhaps, when he saw the sidelong glance you gave him as you sat down next to him, he thought he was right.

"I suppose you are disappointed not to see her dressed as a whore, Lord Hand", Corlys whispered in his ear just as he sat down next to you. You between the two men, almost like a barrier between Aemond and your grandfather. The first would have killed the second if he could, but you were in between. Corlys's words were more than true. And Aemond felt them as if they were a knife going through his entrails; what was wrong with you? Why did you charm him so much? Head held high and well groomed, you smiled at your grandfather as you waited for the tournament participants to show up for the introduction. You seemed happier, and Aemond could see the shadow of the dark circles that were under your eyes. You should have mourned your brother's death, but to the one-eyed man, it was just another collateral damage. Another casualty of the war. Still, you looked beautiful and radiant. Jaehaera approached you and took your hand, leading you to the box balcony to see the participants. Aemond watched in disgust as Aegon paid more attention to you than he should have, and his stomach churned at the thought of the whore who looked just like you. She was lying on the ground, almost suffocated. "I appreciate you finding her such a...stunning dress, but (Y/N) she has to look like what she is: a lady." Corlys leaned back in his seat, casting a bored look over the lists. Aemond stayed upright in his seat, though this time, he clenched his fist, trying to contain the anger that coursed through him at that moment.

"It was something I ordered, Lord Corlys," he said gruffly, glaring at him with cold fury. It almost went right through him with his violet eye right there. But at that moment, Aemond seemed to relax, just as you looked at your grandfather with a leaning smile from the balcony as the jousting participants were introduced. Corlys watched in amazement as Aemond turned his gaze straight ahead to gaze at you. Jaehaera pointed at something, and you looked back at the tournament participants, who were starting to get ready to introduce themselves. All sons, knights and lords of great houses. Aemond thought that you were beautiful, young, and deserving of anything but the attention of anyone on the green side.

At that moment, Daeron entered the fray with a perfect white horse, well groomed and nourished. An animal without comparison. He greeted everyone present but stopped long and hard to look at Jaehaera. She turned her face away. She is still visibly angry with him. "Men don't understand us," she said gruffly in a whisper, and you looked back, only to watch as Aemond silently savoured you, even if you weren't wearing his dress.

"I ask the favour of Princess Jaehaera. If I win, she will be the queen of love and beauty," Daeron declared, and Jaehaera rolled her eyes with a smile. That's when you knew she wouldn't be angry with him all her life. She could never be angry with him for more than a week, though this time, the outrage had been greater than usual. She smiled at you again and nodded for you to follow her. Just as you were about to obey, a young Dornish knight rebuked you.

"Hey girl, what's your name?" a boy who must have been a couple of years older than you asked with a firm voice and a white-toothed smile. Her brown skin and black hair contrasted with the white of his teeth and the blue of his eyes. He was quite an attractive boy, and you blushed. A shade of pink was on your cheeks. You looked at him quite impressed. Not only was he attractive, but he also smiled at you. He was smiling frankly.

"(Y/N) Velaryon", the daughter of Larys answered behind you, approaching you two who, until that moment, had not left the balustrade. The three of you leaned against the balustrade, but the Knight of Dorne seemed to have eyes only for you.

"I'm glad to know it," replied the boy, who spurred his horse and withdrew with the other participants. His black horse raised a great smoke. Larys's daughter laughed, and Jaehaera broke into a smile. You seemed to be the only one who didn't know what was going on.

"How daring!" sighed Mariam, Larys's daughter. “Had to be from Dorne”

"I think he is a Gargalen", the princess commented. "A basilisk gules with a saber serpent in its beak on a field of gold. He is a Gargalen ", answered the princess, who, at Aemond's insistence, knew all the heraldry of the seven kingdoms. She said it herself in her usual tone of voice that – it almost sounded like a whisper. You ignored them and went back to sit next to your grandfather. You glanced sideways at Aemond, who seemed almost annoyed at the attention you'd received from a boy your age.

You sat down almost in an automaton movement and raised your face again; you almost looked like an imperturbable statue, but the worst thing was that you felt like you were betraying Aemond. What was happening to you? You were nothing. You would never be anything. And yet, you had returned to his side as that boy had greeted you, almost as if you had been unfaithful.

"The Gargalens are originally from Salt Shore. They have some exquisite beaches where perhaps you would swim again as before" Your grandfather smiled at you knowingly, almost as if he were beginning to weave the first threads of his plan to end the greens or at least to better position himself in the new court. That hadn't been decided yet. You looked at him incredulous. And he winked at you as he took a small sip from his glass of wine. You laughed softly, almost as if you were back in Driftmark. Maybe that boy from Dorne wasn't such a bad idea.

"The Dornishmen do not know what fidelity is. Do you want to lead your granddaughter to an unhappy life? Full of jealousy and debauchery?" Aemond interrupted, bored and annoyed by the conversation you were having. "Is that what you want, little one?" he asked you without even looking at you, just wetting his lips in his glass. And Corlys smirked. Aemond was just as easily manipulated as all men. He felt jealous like the rest of the mortals.

Your grandfather didn't even answer. Aegon jumped up and wished luck to all the participants; he wished peace and glory to all the houses. He gave a well-calculated welcome to all present. A perfectly well prepared speech. It was all the product of Aemond. All that show. Always in the shadows. All those whoops of joy were his, but as always, he would enjoy them in the second row. Never at first, much to his regret.

That tournament would last several days. Too many participants and Aemond noted that this was the last year he would invite the Gargalens. He wanted to ask what fight that boy would be in. He must have been a knight for a short time. He was too young, almost your age, and he felt threatened. He thought for a moment that he was ridiculous, that he wasn't your nothing. And yet he wanted to be your everything. However, he remained tense throughout that day of the tournament. He wasn't going to let any Dornishman get their hands on you,and your grandfather took note of everything that happened. It was just one part of a larger plan that was being turned against the King's hand.

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond x y/n #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine

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itsamarvelfan-writes · 8 months

Text

Tough Break

Warnings: strong language, some mentions of fire/death (child loss & suicide)/injuries/hospitalization, angst, a lot more fluff, period cramps (aka bleeding/blood)

Summary: After a particularly bad month at the hospital, you want nothing more than to let it all out.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

A/N: This was a lovely and cute ask from a user on Wattpad. This really broke through my thoughts and helped me gain more motivation to write again! Anyway, enjoy this one because he’s a golden retriever.

"There's been a fire—"

You dragged your feet down the hall, lifting your head up and tugging your clipboard to your chest. Your heart felt heavier and the more you tried to tune out of your surroundings, the more you focused on the little details that made your heart ache.

"—accident—"

White and green blurred around you, shifting into the background noise as the little sounds made their way to the front. Little whispers of sweet nothings and the hushed promises of feeling better. The cries of a newborn and the cries of a broken heart. A gut-wrenching scream of a mother and another cry.

"—girl around five years—"

Your breath hitched in your throat and your heart tore out of its place into your stomach. You felt the flutters of a shiver, clogging your lungs and making you rush your feet through the maze of plain white halls. You slipped into the room, hoping it was quiet and isolated.

"What should we—"

You wiped your face, trying to clear it of the tears before you went back out into the hallway. Your heart was still lodged into your throat and you felt your sudden urge for a hug grow by times two. You clutched your pen and clipboard, huffing out a breath and repeating an inhale-exhale exercise that your therapist had recommended when your anxiety attacks were brought up.

"I'll break the news to—"

You grabbed the knob and turned it, hoping for no one to notice your distressed state. You put your head down and tried to count to hundred. Hundred steps until your office and then you could hide up there until you were done your paperwork. Once you were done that, you could go home and freshen up and have a little nice conversation.

"Y/N?" You looked up in mock surprise at Keira, her greying hair pulled back into a ponytail and her glasses on the top of her nose. She pushed them up and looked you over once, shaking and sighing once she had accessed you.

There was no way you would get to your office now. Knowing Keira, she probably saw right through that mask you had on for your overwhelming emotions. She knew about the calls and the fire and the accident. She knew about the death and toll it took on you.

"Go home," she said sternly, her voice shaking when she continued, "you've been here long enough today and yesterday. You can't overwork yourself on my watch. Go home."

"But—"

"No, Y/N," she cut in sharply, eyeing another one of the coworkers as she tried to pry into the conversation. "You're working overtime. Go home."

With that final statement, she walked off and tapped away on her tablet—sending out a new schedule that doesn't have your name on it, no doubt about that. If she ever saw you overexert yourself again, to the brink of fainting, she would personally put you in bed rest.

You were glad for her care and damn thankful she did send you home that day.

Once you had gotten back home, you showered and then saw the trail of blood mix in with water. You should have known with the slight cramping and headaches you were getting, but you had blamed it on work, on the bad days at hospital.

You loved your job, you really did, but it was complete chaos sometimes. One life after the next and sometimes that meant you had to be the one breaking the news. That, out of all the people in the world, your person was taken out of it. Most of those announcements left the families and friends in despair, others couldn't process it, barely managing to nod and form a sentence.

These past few weeks had been hectic. There was a fire early on in the month, one that set the building ablaze with people still inside. A few made it out with injuries, a few were hospitalized before dying, and a few were already dead. Later it was a freak accident, icy roads that made a bus loose control and crashed into another vehicle. Most cars were wrecked and most people injured. A few days ago, it was a little girl caught amiss in a blizzard and froze her to death. Today it was a teenager who took his own life and you had to break the news to his parents.

You sighed in relief when you shrugged on an oversized sweater.

It wasn't yours, but it felt like home to you. As if his arms were wrapped around you and his head was resting against your neck. The soft material of the sweater still smelled like him, but you decided it wasn't enough. You grabbed his cologne and sprayed it, sniffing slightly when you felt the mist hit your neck.

You went ahead and microwaved some leftover lasagna from last night before settling down on the couch.

The apartment felt too big for you. Too big and too lonely. You stabbed into your food and took a bite. The remote was far from your reach, sitting on the fireplace underneath the TV. You figured it was for the best since the dull throbbing in your head was turning into a splitting headache.

The door at the front open and closed when you finally put your plate down on the coffee table set in the middle of the living room. Timid footsteps made their way through the hallway, a light flicking on behind you and you turned your head.

"Hey, sweetheart," Steve said, grinning. It faltered on his face and you felt your throat burning. He looked alright, your eyes skimming over his body once quickly.

His eyes flicked over your face once and then twice before he sighed and smiled sadly. He made his way around the couch and sat down beside you, flinging a leg behind you and holding out his arms for you.

"Hi," you whispered before melting into his arms. You rested your head on his shoulder, kissing the curve of his neck and wrapping your arms around his waist. He dropped a kiss on your hair and tightened his arms around you when you hissed at a particularly harsh cramp.

"Wanna talk about it, sweetheart?" He trailed a hand up and down your spine, fingers pressing into your lower back.

"I—" your voice cracked and the feelings that you had locked up while keeping yourself busy finally made an appearance. Sobs racked through your body, Steve's hand coming up to wipe the tears on your cheeks while the other one continued to work its magic on your lower back.

"It's alright, Y/N," Steve said, his cheek resting against your hair. "I'm right here."

"I'm sorry—"

"It's okay, sweetheart. You're allowed to have emotions, especially with the things you see. I know how hard it can be, okay? You never have to apologize for things like this. Ever. You're allowed to be sad. You're allowed to be angry. It's okay to show me those feelings of yours."

Steve was all too familiar with this type of pain. He could tell you were overwhelmed the second he saw the slight pinch of your eyebrows and tense shoulders. He could have chalked it up to being your time of the month—he had started remembering your cycle once you both had become more serious about your relationship—but your eyes had swept up his body too quickly.

As if you were afraid to see cuts and bruises on his body.

"I know," you mumbled, lifting your face to capture his gaze. You felt your cheeks burn with the way his baby blue eyes were filled with concern and worry. You choked on a sob again and fell back into a crying fit.

Steve tangled his hand into your hair and gently pushed your head to his chest and said "Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that."

You slowly calmed down, cries dying down to sniffles and then your heartbeat was almost in sync with his. After a few minutes of silence, you contemplating how to tell him what happened and him wondering how he could make you feel better, he broke the silence.

"Wanna talk about it?" He offered, fingers massaging your scalp as a gesture for you to look at him. You did and shook your head.

"Not right now." Your voice was low and raspy, eyes rimmed red and nose blocked. Steve reached over for a tissue and handed it over to you. Once you blew your nose and crumpled the tissue in your hand, he spoke again.

"Try and get some rest then, sweetheart." His arms tightened around your waist, shuffling down slightly so that the two of you were laid down on the couch. You were laying half on top of him, an arm and a leg thrown over him.

"But what about you?" You furrowed your eyebrows, glancing up at him and catching his eyes on you already.

"What about me, sweetheart?" He watched your eyelids droop shut for a moment too long. You had overworked yourself this week again and he had noticed it this time around.

"The couch is too—" you yawned— "too small for your body."

"Go to sleep, Y/N."

You hesitated, eyes lingering on his.

"I'll wake you up when I feel like going to bed, okay?" You both knew that was a lie. Steve hated waking you up after you had fallen asleep. You hated waking him up too, especially when he came back from a tough mission.

"Okay." You were too tired to argue, knowing you should have, but Steve was stubborn when he wanted to be.

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

Steve would have never gotten the chance to wake you up anyway, having fallen asleep with his arms around your waist and feeling more content with your warmth engulfing him. The only thoughts that crossed his mind were of how he was going to make the rest of the week better for you. Starting with cuddles, a decent breakfast, and some of your favourite movies and TV shows, he would show you how much you meant to him.

The ring in his pocket would came out later when you would be busy staring at the stars while he would be staring at you as if you hung them there in the first place.

For now, he was more than happy to be here for you.

#steve rogers x f!reader #x reader #mcu #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #x y/n #marvel mcu #steven grant steve rogers #steven grant rogers #captain america x you #captain america x reader #captain america x female reader

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doingthingsthewriteway · 2 years

Text

Home

Summary: The world starts changing for alpha!eddie.

Warnings: language, some fictionalized oppression to omegas (but eddie is an ally)

The rut was crawling all over him. Eddie knew it was only a matter of time before he’d have to leave school (and fall even further behind) so he could deal with it. He hated just dealing with it. As a matter of fact, he hated the whole damn classification system.

Alphas were treated with all this superiority bullshit. Hot head, knot head, pig. Name it and alphas had been called it. What society failed to realize was alphas needed to be taken care of just like omegas. Well, not just like omegas, but some goddamn affection would be nice.

So no, Eddie wasn’t looking forward to his rut. Not in the way that other alphas like stupid fucking Jason Carver did. Jason had a beautiful omega that Eddie would love to take for a spin. Instead, Eddie would spend the week locked away in his trailer with a porn mag and a six pack.

His bones ached, his nerves shot. He was ready to snap at the poor little freshman that followed behind him after school. “All I’m asking, Eddie, is why we have to cancel Hellfire?”

“Henderson.” The growl was unintentional but got the job done. “I’m going to Indianapolis to buy something for my job.”

“Can I come?”

“Are you trying to get me arrested?” Eddie rolled his eyes. “No. You’re going to stay here. We’ll have hellfire next week.”

Eddie tossed his shit into his van and started hauling ass to Indianapolis. Every month he’d go to the Emergency Classification Clinic and get what he mentally referred to as “rut relief”.

He was a regular there. His favorite nurse was Sarah and definitely not because she looked and was a similar age to his mom. Nope. Absolutely not.

“Sarah! My darling!” Eddie bowed dramatically as she entered his room, closing the curtain behind her. “Here for my usual.” He flashed a wolfish grin.

“Always a pleasure, Eddie.” She pulled out his chart. “Alright, rapid fire rounds: any changes since your last rut?”

“Nope.”

“Sexual partners?”

“Just my hand and my Heavy Metal.”

“Emotional changes?”

Eddie paused wondering if he it was hot in this room or if he was blushing. Surely to god he wasn’t blushing. “Well, I mean, I wanted an omega this month. I can’t explain why.”

Sarah offered a sad smile, making a note in his file. “That’s normal Eddie. It’s a normal thing to want someone.” She sighed. “I’ve got good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first, always.” His right hand shook every so slightly.

“This is your last refill.” She sighed.

“No, no, no.” Curls shook with each denial. “Sarah, come on. Aren’t I a fucking danger to society unmedicated?”

“New federal laws, pup. Family First initiative or whatever. The goal is to reduce suppressant use by increasing mated couples.”

“Well shit, what good news is there?” Big brown eyes watered ever so slightly as he looked up at the older beta. “I have to have them. I can’t go through a rut alone. It hurts and- this might shock ya sweetheart- but omegas aren’t exactly lining up to mate The Freak.”

Sarah poked her head out the curtain divider, checking the hallway. Seeing that everyone’s attention was still very much held at calming the omega and her distressed mother, she let out a weighted breath. “There’s an omega here. Mom’s a total bitch-“ Eddie snickered earning a pointed look from Sarah. “We’re concerned that the suppressant prescription isn’t something the omega wants.”

“Match-making? Really?” His brows furrowed. “Wait- why is the omega with her mom?”

“Unmated omegas are regulated on suppressants by their guardians.”

“Shit, this is fucked up.”

“Preaching to the choir, pup.” Sarah shrugged as she tossed Eddie his pill pack. “Just go give her a sniff on your way out.”

Eddie tucked his pills in the pocket of his leather jacket as he headed down the halls of curtained rooms. Sniffing out the mystery omega wasn’t hard at all. Lavender, bourbon, and something citrus tickled his nose and sent a wave of something over him.

“What am I supposed to do? She’s not some whore!” A shrill voice screamed at one of the nurses.

Eddie dared a glimpse between the sliver of an opening from the curtain and the wall. The omega was cute, he wouldn’t deny that. He could smell the heat, thick and sweaty but not quite fully developed yet.

Whore. The word bounced around in his head, igniting a growl of vibration in his chest. No one should call an omega that. Especially not some bat-shit beta. And what the fuck? Omegas were supposed to be treasured, right?

Right. He wasn’t sure what part of his brain was in charge (probably that feral alpha part that was horny as hell) but before he could stop himself, he’d yanked the curtain back.

Her scent all but smacked him. The nurses’ eyes widened, freezing as Eddie entered the room. He didn’t know he was growling until the omega whimpered.

“Shh, sweetheart.”

The omega’s eyes rolled open, a whine leaving her lips. Sweat beads were bubbling along the roots of curls on her forehead. “You’re an alpha?” She was drunk with heat already and fuck if Eddie didn’t pop a knot right then.

The screaming mother beta turned to Eddie who sent a hard glare. A low rumble echoed from his throat. Despite their status, betas weren’t immune from the rumble of an alpha-especially one as wound up as Eddie.

“It’s some bullshit that- what’s your name sweetheart?” The omega whined out her name, Eddie repeating it memorizing the way his lips moved as he said it. “Y/N can’t make this decision herself.”

“Nurses, I’d like him to leave.” “He stays.”

Sarah definitely didn’t page the nurses upon hearing the plea of the omega. Nope. She was not contributing to this. Definitely not.

“Name’s Eddie. I know I’m not much and I really don’t know you, but if you want these suppressants I’ll leave. If you don’t and your mother dearest is forcing you because she’s got conformist bullshit beliefs about omegas, then I’ll stay and make sure you get those pills. Or, I mean..”

A ringed finger stroked her cheek, he didn’t know how he got to her bedside but the pheromones she was releasing surely did it. “I mean, I could be your mate if you want them but don’t want to be treated like a goddamn second class citizen.”

Y/N purred sending a wave of relief over Eddie. “Ya mean it?” She giggled then, softly as she watched his big brown puppy eyes sparkle. “I could have an alpha to take care of? My own?”

It was a blur really, but Eddie scooped her up and carried her to his van. “I’ll build you the biggest nest I can and get you everything you possibly could want.” He tossed her the pill pouch. “Keep these in case I go psycho alpha but I don’t think that will ever happen with you around.”

Y/N preened, snuggling into the passengers seat. “Where are we going?

“Home.”

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson au #Eddie Munson imagines #alpha!eddie #alpha eddie munson

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lingeringmirth · 16 days

Text

anything for a kind touch

Written for @whumpril day 20. touch-starved.

Stranger Things | Steve Harrington centric, minor stancy, Steve & Eleven| Rating: GT| Words: 511 | Angst, Steve has powers, Steve has bad parents, Eleven adn & Steve have a sibling relationship, Steve is an empath, hurt steve, canon divergence.

Also here on AO3.

Seven had run away from the lab following the massacre, he’d wanted to snatch Eleven with him, but had lost her in the chaos and then he’d just run, like the scared boy that he was.

He’d run straight to the Harrington’s back yard, been taken in, regarded with suspicion and then kept, like an accessory, something to complete the perfect nuclear family image the Harrington’s strove so badly to portray, even if it was all window-dressing, but look at them, adopting a nice boy, how kind of them.

Being an empath it was hell living in that house, always shirking away from touch, yet not always being able to evade slaps and grabs which showed what his new parents really thought about him, which was anything but kind.

He’d give anything for a kind touch, even a fleeting one, but there’s no-one in his life to give them.

Steve, as he is now, is grateful when he sees his “parents” less and less, even if the loneliness burrows into him and starts eating him alive. It’s why, maybe, that he gravitates towards popularity at school, just to feel like he belongs. But teenagers are messy in their emotions and he gets more and more lost in them until he doesn’t even recognize himself by the end… almost forgetting where he’d come from and who he’d left behind.

It’s Nancy Wheeler who pulls him out, shows him kindness despite how easily, too easily, he brushes away her hesitance, pursuing her as a conquest.

Later, he’ll never forget that he didn’t check up on Barb, that he had been so lost in lust and Nancy to not know what was happening outside his bedroom windows, her distress and fear must have been so loud that he should have felt them even without touch.

His and Nancy’s relationship quickly sours after that, because he can’t take the sadness he feels from her every time he touches her, the festering wound of her grief and quilt, he should stay and comfort her, but he’s not right for her, should stay away.

Especially after he finds out that she knows about the lab, about Eleven.

He wanders into the woods surrounding Hawkins every day, trying to find her, refusing to believe that she’s gone, hoping he won’t fail her a second time.

Eventually, he finds her, dirty and skittish and looking half-feral. She’s older, but he knows it’s her just like she knows he’s him, there’s no need to compare tattoos, even when they do that after a bit. She doesn’t hesitate to do a running leap into his arms, nor does he to hug her tighter than tight, reveling in the contact.

All of her emotions crash over him in a tidal wave at first before she remembers to reign them in, and then it’s the best hug he’s had in four years, because she knows how to block her emotions from bleeding through, so that it can be just a hug.

‘Eleven…’ he sobs brokenly.’

‘Seven.’

He’s right where he’s meant to be.

#whumpril2024 #whumprilday20 #prompt: touch-starved #angst #experiment steve harrington #steve harrington has powers #steve harrington & eleven #steve harrington has bad parents #hurt steve harrington #empath steve harrington #canon divergence #stranger things fic

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ronaldofandom · 1 year

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Bheem & Baby's Day out

Summary: Bheem spends a day out with his 6-month-old son :)

Written for: @talesofthetigerrr

No warnings.

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There are a few moments where one has that distinct realization that one’s life is going to change forever, from that moment onwards.

For Bheem, that happened when he became a father. When that tiny being opened his eyes for the first time and tried to grab Bheem’s finger, Bheem felt his heart grow larger with love. When the baby recognized Bheem’s face for the first time and giggled happily when his father returned to the hut, Bheem cried. With sobs and hiccups. Only stopping when the baby picked up on his anguish & became distressed. Bheem wiped his tears then and held his two-week-old son against his chest. Both father & son seeking comfort in each other’s warmth.

His son. For the first month, the words felt alien on his tongue. Or even to his ears. When the elders said that the baby looked just like him or was just as hyperactive as his father, it took some getting used to.

Bheem had always been a happy, content person, despite the circumstances & tragedies which had been a constant in his life. He always saw beauty in small things. As a kid, he could be having the worst day yet chasing after a squirrel the next second. The smell of earth, when it rained, made him giddy. The lush green of leaves in spring, the swarm of colorful fishes in the river, and the early morning sunlight dancing on the water made his heart smile.

So, it’s not that he was unfamiliar with happiness. But no other prior feeling compared to the emotion he felt now. His baby had filled a hole in his heart that he didn’t know existed. He was the apple of his eye, the center of his universe.

Every time Bheem returned to the hut and found his wife & son cooing to each other, time stood still. His wife. His son. His family. His everything. Only, exclusively his. Bheem hadn’t felt that in years, since the death of his parents.

The pregnancy had been hard, as was the delivery. It had taken a while for Jenny to recover. Bheem had been the most thoughtful & caring husband through it all. Jenny had cried multiple times in this period - sometimes due to hormones but most times due to being overwhelmed by his love.

From staying up with her every night she couldn’t sleep from discomfort to holding her hair back during her morning sickness to massaging her swollen feet to dealing with all her mood swings & midnight cravings, Bheem had done it all. Happily. Willingly. With a smile on his face. In fact, he had insisted on being there every step of the way.

And the best husband organically turned into the best father. Bheem had taken up the night duties to tend to their baby since Jenny didn’t get a moment of peace during the day. He only woke her up when he figured the baby was hungry. In all other cases, he handled it himself. Some mornings, Jenny woke up to the sweetest sight, of the baby snuggled into Bheem’s chest, drooling over it, with Bheem’s palms gently enveloping him. She had shed many happy tears on such mornings.

But this morning, she was teary-eyed for a different reason. Jenny & Sita had to step into the nearby town for urgent work, which could not be delayed further. It was the first time the mother would be away from the child for a full day.

She rocked her son in her arms while laying down the instructions for Bheem.

‘I fed him just now, but he will need something every few hours. No solids, just some milk and maybe some dal if he craves salt. There, I have made some without spices.’

She pointed to a container in the kitchen. Bheem nodded obediently.

‘Don’t keep him active all day. He will get tired and can fall sick. Let him have his naps. At least two by the time I am back in the evening.’

Bheem nodded again. His lips curved into a brief smile, but he hid it quickly.

‘He has started to roll. So keep an eye on him at all times. Try to keep a pillow around him if he’s not in his crib. Do not bathe him, he is still recovering from the fever last week. And…’

Bheem hugged her, cutting off the volley of instructions. The boy, still in Jenny’s arms, was cocooned between his parents, and seemed to love the feeling.

‘We will be fine. He is my son too, you know. I got this. Finish your work and come back to us quickly, we will both be waiting for you.’

Jenny hugged both her boys tighter, taking in their scents. When they parted, she placed the baby in his crib and stepped out quickly, before she second guesses herself. Bheem walked her down the road, where Ram & Sita were waiting outside their hut.

The men looked at each other. Bheem nodded at Ram, then pointed in Jenny’s direction. Ram nodded back, assuring Bheem that he will take care of her. Bheem had been nervous about Jenny stepping out without him, but one of them needed to stay with the baby, who got fidgety if away from his parents for long. Ram was the only other person Bheem would trust Jenny’s safety to.

After seeing them off, Bheem came back to the hut and found his son babbling to the wooden tiger that Bheem had carved for him.

‘So, mister, what should we do today, huh? What are you in the mood for?’

The baby threw his toy in Bheem’s face, then clapped with his hands and feet together, earning a giggle from his father.

‘You really are my son, aren’t you? Ok then - we are going to defy your mother and have a day out. How about that?’

‘Ba-ga-da-maaaaaaaa-gooooooo’

‘Great answer. I take that as a yes.’

Bheem packed some necessary things in a basket, dressed the baby appropriately for a day in the sun, and then headed out to the mountain lake.

His son shared Bheem’s love for nature. He loved the sound of birds chirping, the gurgling of the river, and even the thundering clouds. He was a happy, content kid.

At 6 months, he was also at that age now where he had started to interact with his surroundings. On their way, Bheem stopped multiple times because the baby wanted to touch some flowers, pull some bushes and pet some rabbits. The rabbits let both the father & son stray close to their younger ones as if knowing that these two souls would never hurt them. And they seemed to understand the kid’s gibberish, too - communicating with him in all earnestness. As they say, kids have a special language to communicate with animals. Well, his kid certainly did.

When Bheem reached the lake, he camped at the same spot where he had taken Jenny many times. Where they had spent many days together, getting to know each other, falling deeper for one another. In those early days, neither had imagined that their life could turn out to be like this. That they would be blessed with this little bundle of joy who would become the light of their lives. Surely, they had come a long way since then. Bheem smiled at the memories, and the baby looked at him quizzically.

‘Little one, are you hungry yet?’

The baby ignored him stoically, too immersed in the new surroundings now. Looking at the sky was one of his favorite things, so he forgot about his father's existence for a few moments.

Bheem fed him the dal nonetheless. He had recently switched from breastfeeding to other foods and was usually very jumpy if anyone other than Jenny fed him. But right now, he was too busy chasing the cloud patterns in the sky, and Bheem capitalized on that moment.

Once fed, the kid had even more energy. It didn’t look like he was going to go down for a nap anytime soon. So Bheem sat down on the edge of the lake, immersing his legs in the water, with his son on his lap.

The baby tried to touch the water with his feet, but Bheem had kept him at some elevation in his lap. He tried a few times, but came up short every time, wagging his feet fruitlessly. His father was very amused. The baby didn’t give up; he was Bheem’s son, after all. He tried to maneuver himself in Bheem’s lap and attempted to dive head-first into the water. Bheem laughed out loud but held him back.

The baby protested, screaming loudly, and throwing a fit.

‘Heyy, not my fault ok. Your mother asked to keep you away from the water. She will kill me if she finds out. Is that what you want?’

His son was unimpressed. Not buying his father’s argument. He pouted, and Bheem saw his mini-me in that puppy face. He caved instantly.

‘Ok fine. Just a little bit.’

Bheem dipped his tiny toes in the water and was rewarded with the most angelic giggle in the world. Bheem splashed tiny droplets in the baby’s face, careful not to wet his clothes. If ever there was a happy baby, this was it. The child looked so content, so blissed out. He rolled in his father’s lap and tapped at Bheem’s face with his tiny, stubby fingers, expressing his immense pleasure.

The frolicking had started to wear him out, too, thankfully. Bheem stayed lake-side, letting the kid spot the fishes near the shore and calling out to them.

Looking at the kid in his arms, he wondered if he brought the same joy to his parents when he was born. If they also brought him here. If they also played with him the same way. If their world also revolved around him. If they also prayed for the world to be a better place, for the sake of their son.

Because Bheem hadn’t been able to shake that thought since his son was born. The world in general, and their world in particular, was cruel. And brutal. And merciless. Bheem had vowed to work tirelessly to do his bit for the country and the tribal communities, so his son could hopefully grow up in a better world. He was willing to lay down his life if his son could have a better life. At the same time, he wanted to cheat death and live longer, selfishly, to be able to spend more time with his kid. The thought tormented him every day.

He was broken out of his reverie when he felt the baby swaying in his arms. Bheem cradled his son against his chest and lightly tapped at his back.

‘Chinna - you don’t have to follow in my footsteps. You don’t need to take on my responsibilities. You can be whoever you want to be. I will do the best I can to make it happen.’

The villagers had already started telling Bheem that his heir had come. That the kid would take over as protector like Bheem had taken over from his father. Bheem had understood the logic of it - it was rational to expect his son to have some of his physical and other abilities, not just as a protector but as a healer too. However, the thought bothered him a tiny bit. Bheem never had a choice in deciding his future. Was the same fate in store for his newborn too? A kid - who couldn’t even walk right now - was he already destined to lead the community just because he was Bheem’s son? How was it fair? But then, the world wasn’t really fair, not for them, at least.

The baby had started fussing now. Jenny always put him down for his naps during the day. Bheem could tell he was starting to miss his mother, from the way he whipped his tiny head around everywhere, searching for her comforting smile.

‘Shhhh, I know, sweetheart. I miss her too. But she will be back by the time you wake up, promise.’

Bheem tapped at his son’s back but the kid was having none of it. He wanted his mother, now.

‘Oh, so you wanna be a mumma’s boy, huh?’

Bheem bounced him in his arms, trying to smile at him. But the baby started to cry. And Bheem resorted to the only thing that worked for him when his son was this fussy.

He sang to him. The same song that he sang to Malli in that palace. The same familiar tune, which Malli also sang to the kid every day. His favorite lullaby.

And the baby started to calm down, relaxing his movements. Bheem walked around the shore, and the cool breeze worked wonders on the kid. Bheem could tell he would fall asleep any moment.

‘Chinna - you will take care of your mother if something happens to me, right? I know you will. I know you love her as much as I do. She is strong, and has become even stronger since she has been here. But I worry if she would even remember how to breathe if something happens to….’

Bheem held on to his son tighter.

‘If something happens to me. She will carry on for you. She will be brave for you. But it’s your responsibility to make sure she doesn’t just survive, but she is happy too. You will do that for your old man, right?’

The kid had passed out by now on his father’s shoulder. Bheem could feel the drool forming over his kurta. He smiled a bitter-sweet smile and laid him down gently on a sheet he had spread out over the grass.

Bheem leaned back against a tree and just watched that tiny sleeping face. He looked so peaceful. Completely oblivious to the world’s struggles. Bheem vowed to keep it that way, till it was possible.

He could watch that angelic face for hours. In fact, he did that often when he woke up at night to tend to his son and couldn’t sleep afterward. He had spent many nights sitting by the crib he had made for his son, just listening to his tiny snores and light breaths. As if he was still working on believing that the baby was real. That he was his.

He lay next to the kid, turning on his side to face him. Tracing his and Jenny’s features on the baby was one of Bheem’s favorite things. His son definitely had his big eyes and his chubby cheeks. But he had Jenny’s nose and sweet pink lips.

Bheem smiled as to how he wanted a girl initially, a replica of Jenny. He had prayed for a girl. But Jenny was sure she was carrying a boy, that she was bringing a mini-Bheem into the world. At the time of delivery, Jenny had smirked at Bheem that she had told him so. And Bheem conceded defeat. Happily.

Because the result was as precious as his son. Even when Bheem is gone, there will be a part of him left in this world. His son. His replica. His blood. A piece of his heart. In fact, his whole heart. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for his son. No limits he wouldn’t cross for his well-being. In that moment, Bheem became a kid again and looked up at the sky, praying to his parents to take care of their grand-kid, should anything happen to him. The clouds thundered, and he knew his parents had heard him. Bheem closed his eyes, knowing he could rest peacefully now, at least for a bit.

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I had meant to write fluff, but lost my way somewhere and went into feels. Hope you guys liked it. As always, would love to know your thoughts :)

@irisesforyoureyes @rambheem-is-real @thewinchestergirl1208 @eremin0109 @eenadu-varthalu @rorapostsbl @yehsahihai @budugu @maraudersbitchesassemble @justmeand-myinsight @rambheemisgoated @rosayounan @jrntrtitties @obsessedtoafault @rambheemlove @jjwolfesworld @alikokinav @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @bromance-minus-the-b @dumdaradumdaradum @lovingperfectionwonderland @annieginny @chaanv @ssabriel @milla984 @kaagazkefool @boochhaan @mesimpleone @filesbeorganized @ladydarkey @teddybat24 @stanleykubricks @burningsheepcrown @veteran-fanperson @ronika-writes-stuff @beingmes-blog @yonderghostshistories @nisreenart @chaidrivenwhore @bheemaxrama @carminavulcana @umbrulla @mizutaama @rosefulmadness @gifseafins @fangirlshrewt97 @astrafangs @sada-siva-sanyaasi @voidsteffy

#talesofthetigerrr #rrr #bheem #ntr jr #jr ntr #love #tarak #bheem rrr #komuram bheem #charan #rrr fanfic #rambheem #bheemjenny #charak #jenny #ram #tigerrr2023

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scaryspears · 1 year

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How the Devil Gene in canon still works after Tekken 7

From what most Tekken enjoyers understand is that the Devil gene was retconned. But what if there was a way to watch all endings and past revelations without getting confused? Which brings my presentation.

How the Devil Gene in canon still works after Tekken 7

To be clear, I haven't refreshed my memory of what went down in the storyline but I remember the basics, so feel free to call out any incorrectness. Most of this is just a ramble and I wanted to show it to anybody who would read it, along with using a bunch of gifs for artistic reasons.

When Kazuya was a small boy his father (Heihachi) threw him off a cliff, in Tekken 7 it is because Kazuya tried to fight him after Heihachi killed Kazumi, his mother. The reason Heihachi killed her is because he found out she came from a family of devil genes (or something).

I don't think Kazuya was raised to know what the Devil gene was, so when Devil made himself present he naturally made a deal with Kazuya out of instinct of knowing what itself was but not the family history. Kind of like a kitten having the same tendencies as its parents but was taken from the litter and mother it belonged to. I think you guys know what I mean here.

I theorise that the gene itself isn't present until something tragic and emotionally distressing activates it. At least that may be the case for those with it who go untrained not knowing that they have it, I don't know how it must've been for Kazumi. Devil Jin was activated through stress, and whilst Jin was in his teens, while Devil K grew with Kazuya.

Dude's mum just disappeared and the person that's supposed to protect him betrays him with the actual intent to harm. I think Heihachi throwing Kazuya was kind of a disciplinary thing, because Kazuya still grew up with Heihachi, while Jin was left for dead. But Kazuya was 8-10 (poor memory) when he got thrown off, so his emotional/mental tolerance was... lesser. Not to say Jin losing his mum at an older age wasn't just as traumatic, but teenagers and children are different. Jun's presence also must also have something to do with it, as Devil Jin tries to resist her good powers.

Devil Jin must've been waiting to appear for quite some time, in the back of Jin's mind watching everything. What we know of Devil Jin is that he's an absolute menace to society and a typical delinquent teenager. He's very playful in comparison to Devil Kazuya's maturity. He takes his time being a menace, knowing Jin would take control eventually. TTT2's special win poses between Devil K/Kazuya and Devil J make Devil K/Kazuya look a disapproving father. From DJ firing his laser out of control and flying away, with DK either crossing his arms or showing no reaction.

In Tekken 4 the Devil in Kazuya says that he lost a part of himself and wants to take it back. In a way, when you put in the whole genetic thing he's kind of not wrong. Devil K is acknowledging that he has a son but not to the full grasp that he should. We all know how DNA works, reproduction, ect.

Devil K however believes that 'part of himself' should be taken back, not getting that the gene is in Jin's blood. While I do believe Jun was protecting Jin, I don't think that's why his body rejected the gene getting taken away. Now, as seen with Kazuya's TTT2 ending he can absorb the evil off others for his own gain which is what he did to Unknown. Thing is, Unknown is more of a possession rather than an 'in the blood' situation. Sure TTT2 isn't canon, but it has shown 'what if' scenarios. Not only that, but we see Zafrina use Azazel's ball thing for her own use.

So the Devil gene is still a thing, and it started out as just that, a gene. They can take power away from other forms of evil, but not their own family members. That may have been why Kazumi wanted Kazuya killed, because Devil couldn't be taken away from him, and she's no Jun Kazama or Angel so it's not like she could take it away from him. Not to defend her or anything, just saying.

#tekken 7 #devil jin #devil kazuya #kazuya mishima #jin kazama #tekken theories #tekken community #anti Heihachi #Why can't Kazuya be a dad?#tekken #devil gene #devil kazumi

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mariaashlay · 8 months

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

Sorry it took so long😭

Here's a list of my, in my opinion, 5 best fics!

Exhaustion

Relationship: Gladius & Donquixote "Corazon" Rosinante

Characters, Gladius, Donquixote "Corazon" Rosinante

Tags, Sleep Deprivation, Sleepiness, First time writing the clown man!!!, Takes place about a years after Law joined, Couldn't think of a summary for this one

Summary: (Even after all this time I still haven't come up with a summary😅)

Out of everything I've ever written this is my number one fic! It was my first time writing something involving Rosi and it turned out better than I could ever imagine! I really like how I characterized Rosi and his opinions on Gladius, as well as having drawn a few comparisons between the two of them which gave it a little more depth.

This was also the first fic in which I went more in depth about Gladius' mental well being and in which way being part of the family has effected him, which is something I'm definitely going to be doing more often!

Also, sleepy Gladius is best Gladius!

Alleviate

Relationships: Baby 5 & Gladius

Characters: Baby 5, Gladius

Tags: Donquixote Pirates (One Piece), Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Dressrosa

Summary: Gladius helps take care of Baby 5's wound before she leaves for Punk Hazard.

This is my favourite Gladius & Baby 5 fic I've ever written! Although it doesn't contain as much angst as the rest of my stories, it does encapsulate how I imagine the relationship between the two of them in my head, and in a little over 1k shows you exactly how I prefer to write them!

Asphyxiation

Relationships: Baby 5 & Gladius

Characters: Baby 5, Gladius

Tags: Donquixote Pirates (One Piece), Drowning, Ocean, Hurt, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst And Tragedy

Summary: On a rainy day, one of the worst thing that could happen to a devil fruit user happened, causing nothing but panic and distress.

This fic was the start of me spiraling into an obsession with making Baby 5 suffer as well, after this I just couldn't stop thinking of ideas to make the poor girl go through hell and back, mostly mentally😅

Though aside from that, this fic was so fun to write! I've never written anything like this before so it had been somewhat of a challenge to turn the idea into a good story, and I think I did a good job doing so!

I also really like the part of the fic in which Gladius immediately tried to jump into the ocean without even a second thought just to save Baby 5, which could be interpreted as him him not thinking logically in a very hight stress situation, or him just being so ready to almost throw away his life like it was nothing, which is very fun to think about.

The only downside to it is that I made Gladius a bit ooc, but who cares! We didn't get to see a large range of emotions from him in the serie so I have the freedom to make it all up!

Sprauchle

Relationship: Viola/Suffering

Characters: Viola

Tags: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Emotional Hurt, Dancing, Pre-Dressrosa

Summary: Viola loves dancing.

Although I don't like a whole lot of the wording I used in this fic, I did like how I portrayed Viola as a character and all the pain she had to go through and her complicated relationship with dancing, so it deserves a spot on this list!

Duplicity

Relationship: Gladius/Viola

Characters: Gladius, Viola

Tags: Sexual Content, Flirting, Public Display Of Affection, Making Out, Kissing, Firts Kiss, French Kissing, Sloppy Makeouts, Rough Kissing, Neck Kissing, Biting

Summary: Ever since the tragedy that had taken everything from her and the people she cared about, Viola has been living a new life as Violet, the cruel assassin from the Donquixote family, and she'll continue keeping up this masquerade for as long as he has to if it meant she could keep her father alive, even if she had ended up letting herself be seduced by one of the families executives because of it.

Now don't get me wrong, this fic is completely self indulgent and cringe in every which way(Just like every other sexual fic I've ever written😅) But despite the fact that I can't write anything even slightly sexual even if my life depended on it, I just can't get myself to hate this fic, there's just something about how I wrote their interections and how I wrote them in general that I just like about it for some reason.

Though that could also just be because I have a obvious fondness for the two of them being together, doesn't matter in what way, they're my otp and I love them💖😭

#Writing

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theskyisbrighthere · 10 months

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Haunted by Yesterday

Grace is trying her best to adjust to the changes in her life. She has very abruptly gone from being a service attendant to being the Princess consort to heir Noctis Lucis Caelum, Crown Prince of Insomnia.

hey hey, heres the first of my one shots for this series, although this one is a twoshot and part two will be posted soon!

Grace is thirteen when she has her first Heat. Although it can’t be described as such, its more of a practice Heat for when she’s older, when her hips have widened, and her hormones have regulated. She remembers her mother’s soft purr directed at her trying to ease the mild distress that she was going through, while her mother did her best to wipe the sweat from her face with a damp face washer, the purr only stopping when her mother did her best to explain what was going on. How Ásdis saw fit to bless her with the gift of life. Had granted her the designation of Omega.

The purring had stopped altogether with the next words from her mother. Not everyone was so lucky to receive Ásdis’ gift, and there were many out there who would want to hurt her for it. Those who would view her as less than others purely for who she was. Who her family was. All because evolution had decided to do its thing after a near devastating event that had meant the end for a majority of their people. If only it wasn’t still so new.

Maybe then they wouldn’t be as viciously hunted like the animals others proclaimed them to be.

“You must hide yourself pomètod.” Her mother had whispered. “No one must know. But it will be hard pomètod, you will want to let your instincts take over. To show your emotions through your voice. To spread your scent on to those you cherish, but you must control it my kootioì. You must suppress it, only around us can you show it. Only around others like us are you safe”.

Grace was too young and her mind too hazy at the time to understand all of what her mother was saying. Not until later at least. By the end of her first month, her throat had felt raw and painful, the urge to purr or whine held back lest she make herself know. Her body aching with the need to hug her friends but she held back, only resorting to casual touches, when all she wanted to do was smother her face all over her friends.

Her only comfort came at home. Where she was free to burrow her face into her father’s arm in passing, the warm comforting scent of Alpha and Sire wafting up to her nose, the tight muscles in her body loosening in the meantime. Or the indulgent hugs from her mother whenever the mood struck her, and the fairly often hair tussle from her Alpha brother as they passed each other in the hallway or the stairs.

She never thought she’d miss it as much as she does, especially now that she’s in a world where she doesn’t have to worry about hiding. She just wished her family was here to see experience it with her.

xXx

Grace comes to with pleasure singing through her body. The phantom feeling of Noctis’ hands on her hips falling away as she tries to catch her breathe. She can feel Noctis’ own satisfaction in the back of her mind, the feeling somewhat reminding her of a lazy fat cat who has gotten its way, and in a way, she supposes he has. Its been a month since Noctis and Grace have seen each other, or rather since they’ve been allowed to see each other.

Due to old traditions, they weren’t supposed to consummate their mateship until they were both properly wedded the Royal way. Which meant that instead of the quick official ceremony that would have taken place the night they met, they get the full actual wedding first, which normally comes a month after the consummation, so that they could both recover.

To say that her life hasn’t changed would be a lie. She’s had to leave her job, not that she was all that upset about it, and she has an all-new wardrobe full of clothes and jewellery to go along with it, her protestations about the new clothes and pretty pieces of metal falling onto deaf ears, the future Princess Consort was expected to look a certain way. She wasn’t all too upset about it; the clothes were in her style the fabric they were made out of was just more luxurious. The biggest change though that she was struggling with so far was the armed guard that followed her every where she went, (which wasn’t far maybe to her mailbox and that was it, and apart from that they mostly stood outside her front door, and one was in her lounge room while she slept which was weird) and the new attendant that she now had as the future Princess Consort.

Grace had the quite the shock when she woke up the morning after her Heat had ended and had wondered into the kitchen following the smell of cooking food, leaving Noctis safe in her Nest (her instincts pushing the proud feeling that he felt safe enough to still sleep in it even after she left it) and had found Ignis and an unknown woman in the kitchen together. The Alpha was at the stove stirring what her nose was telling her was a type of porridge while conversing with the unknown woman sitting at her bench with a slim laptop open in front of her, wearing a smart fitted grey pantsuit with black enclosed heels and her hair pulled back from her face in a no-nonsense bun her makeup minimum but expertly applied. The tones of their voices professional and to the point.

Ignis was the first to notice her, as the unknown woman was looking down and typing furiously onto her laptop, and Grace could only imagine the speed in which the words flew across the screen.

“Good morning My Lady, I trust you are well?” he paused as he turned to grabbed one of the two bowls that were sitting on the bench to fill with the porridge he had made and setting it down to the left of the unknown woman, who had quickly but gracefully shot up to greet her. “Come sit, I have prepared you both a nutritious breakfast, no doubt you will both been needing it after the week the both of you have had. I bid you start while I go wake up His Highness, we’ve all got a busy day today and I’d like you both to eat together as today will be the last for quite a while before you see each other again.”

With those parting words Ignis pulled out the chair in front of her and pushing it back in as she made to sit and placed the bowl in front of her before he made for her bedroom, Grace staring at his back trying to figure out what he meant by those last words. Her attention was quickly snapped back to the unknown woman when she politely cleared her throat, and seeing that she had her attention she smiled, a soft gentle smile coupled with that her soft scent that of a relaxed Omega almost didn’t suit her current getup.

“Good morning My Lady, I hope you are well? I would like to introduce myself if I may?” she paused, her smile widening slightly when Grace nodded her head, her voice was very similar to Ignis’ in the way they spoke. “My name is Aurora Foest, I’m to be your new attendant until you marry Prince Noctis where I will then become your adviser, I understand this is new to you so I would be more than happy to answer any questions you may have, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

And Grace, already capable at recognising battles she wouldn’t be able to win skipped right over all the arguments she had about how she didn’t need an attendant or an adviser and went straight to what was bothering her.

“What did he mean? When he said we wouldn’t see each other for a while?” She tacked on that last sentence at Aurora’s confused look before reaching for the spoon that was already on the bench, Grace only just now realising that it was set for two, the seat to the right of her also set. Gesturing for Aurora to sit down again, she closed her laptop as she sat, and waited for Grace to swallow the mouthful of porridge she had taken.

“For traditions sake of course His Highness and yourself will be separated until the wedding, which will be in about a month but to be more precise it will be in approximately twenty-five days. As I said before its to keep to tradition where this is more a celebration of the Union. We normally have the ceremony mere minutes before the Mating cycle kicks in for both parties, of course that’s only if they are a Fated Pair. Liberties have been taken this time of course due to the circumstances.”

Grace flinched, and Aurora did her best to pretend that she didn’t, but her scent gave her away as Grace could smell the mild spice of sympathy mixed into the lavender and pine of her scent. But whatever she was about to say was forgotten as she could feel the tug of Noctis’ mind at her and her eyes shot up into the direction of her bedroom as Noctis into view, Ignis following behind him before overtaking him to fill up Noctis’ own bowl of porridge before setting it down to the left of me into the empty space.

Noctis paused rubbing at his before looking around the kitchen and landing on her and her heart skipped a beat when he smiled at her, his features still soft from sleep his rumpled clothes and his hair wild, Grace wondered how she would be able to survive twenty-five days without seeing him. But she pushed the thought from her mind as he came closer to her, flopping into the seat next to her and pushing his face into her neck and pressing a gentle kiss to the claim he left on her skin. Grace felt herself relax as she smelt their combined scents, the green apples and caramel scent being flung in all directions due to his very un-prince like flop.

xXx

Twenty-five days was definitely longer than she remembered, the only relief they both had was the dreams, and the fact they could feel each other at all times. Which almost felt like breaking the rules and when she brought it up with Aurora while they were at the modiste, she laughed at her.

“It’s a loophole, one that the Crown and everyone else ignores.” She had laughed. “I think it’s so that they don’t have to deal with a hormonal Prince and equally hormonal Princess to be. But enjoy them for the time being, no one is going to judge you, after all it’s a very common thing and it feels very good does it not?” She had laughed again when Grace’s face had flushed.

Aurora had very quickly become one of Grace’s favourite people. Grace didn’t really have to worry much about wedding preparations as it was mostly being taken care of by the Crown but what she did have to do herself, which was just the one thing, Aurora was there every step of the way.

That one thing being the wedding dress.

She only had two conditions. It had be black as that was the Royal colour and it had to be presentable. Which were both easy for Grace. Which is why they were at the modiste, doing the last fitting two days before the wedding. It was long like a ball gown with off the shoulder sleeves and a puffy skirt that had little accents on it that sparkled like stars. Grace loved the dress.

But she was also excited as this was her last fitting. The wedding was into two days. Which mean no more dancing lessons, no more hairdressing appointments and no more fittings. But more importantly, it meant that very soon she would get to see Noctis. But before then, she still had one more place to go. Getting changed back into the soft pink dress she came in, she emerged from the dressing room to see Aurora signing some papers the modiste owner a lovely woman named Sabine had handed her. She looked up just as Grace came into view, said a few more words to the Sabine before bidding her farewell and making her way over to Grace.

“Are you ready to go My Lady?” she said as she came to a stop at her side. Grace only hummed and Aurora laughed before they made their way out the front door and set off to their last stop of the day.

xXx

“I don’t like it here it smells weird.”

“It does not My Lady, its sterile and I assure you that that is all you are smelling.”

“Can we go yet?”

“In just a moment My Lady, you have one more Doctor to see and then we are done I promise you.” Grace groaned which got her a look from Aurora before she turned back to her phone to respond to an email that she had gotten from one of the florists for the wedding.

“I don’t understand why we’re here, I’m fine, the Bite healed well, and the last Doctor said that both Noctis’ and my own hormones had settled nicely.” Aurora briefly looked up from her phone and looked very mildly annoyed at Grace. “It’s a contraceptive appointment My Lady.” And with the Grace short circuited, but Aurora continued taking no notice of the way Grace froze.

“Babies need to be planned My Lady, especially Royal babies. And now that you and Noctis are mated the need for suppressants aren’t needed as now the both of you will be seasonal, but in saying that accidents can and do happen outside of a Mating Cycle My Lady.” And with that she looked back down at her phone just as her name was called. “I’ll wait out here for you My Lady and then when you are finished, I shall escort you home.” And with that Grace numbly followed the Doctor into the private room.

She had forgotten about babies. Soon in the future she would have to give Noctis babies. Which she wasn’t terrified of. It was more to do with the fact that she was expected by the whole country and the Crown to give Noctis babies. And that was quite a lot of pressure suddenly put on her shoulders.

The only saving grace was that she didn’t have to do it immediately after they we married.

don't worry the smut will be in part two

also a few notes

pomètod means shining star I made it up and kootioì means my little love.

#alpha/beta/omega au #final fantasy xv #noctis lucis caelum #gaming #royal weddings #ignis scientia #original female character #suggestive themes

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