#but ace's family makes him feel welcome

[netherfeildren]

FABLE OF THE DOG : 1. The Two Headed Calf

Series Masterlist;

Pairing: Joel Miller x FMC

Summary: Welcome home and buck up, cowgirl.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Cowboy/Heiress AU; Slowburn(ish); Original Characters; Alcohol & Drug Use; Discussions of Grief; Daddy Issues; Graphic Descriptions of Vomiting; Description of a Dead Body; Death of a Parent; Parental Neglect; Older Man/Younger Woman; Jealousy; Past Teenage Crush; Unrequited Pinning; Yearning and Longing Galore; Boss’s Daughter; Complicated Family Relationships; A Home is a Place but ALSO a Person!; Found Family

A/N: Disclaimer, I know nothing about Wyoming and it’s geography, ranching, or being a cowboy and just made all this up. Any and all misrepresentations are fallacy of my laziness.

The FMC tag was decided because she has a last name. It was just too difficult for me to speak in depth about her father without giving him a name, and thus her one too. After that decision was made, she kind of went away from me and devolved into her own person who I have come to be quite obsessed with. It’s still written in ‘you’ format, anyhow.

I’ve been having a whole lot of fun with this, I hope you do too.

Word Count: 10K

Read on AO3

1: The Two Headed Calf

“She’s been shut up in that house goin’ on three days now, Joel,” Tommy says as the two brothers make their way across the lawn. 

The ride had been long and hard, and Joel is tired—he levels a dark look at him. “Just sayin’. Nothin’ you find in there’s gonna be pretty to look at.” He raises his hands in surrender at the brooding glare, that non-confrontational shrug that’s set Joel on edge since they were boys. 

“One of you’s should’a gone in there. Made sure she’s okay.”

“The housekeepers’ve been keepin’ an eye. And Frank tried to go in there and check on her himself, but she’s angry as a barn cat. Hissin’ ‘nd yowlin’, and just bein’ downright scary as hell, to be honest. You should be prepared is all I’m tryin’ to say.”

“Her father just died, Tommy. I’m not expectin’ pretty sights right now,” Joel gruffs, trying to swallow the panic that flutters in his throat as they crest the final hill up to the big house. 

The beautiful stone, oak, glass monstrosity that’s stood as monument to this place, this home that is not truly his, for over a decade now. The Kelly Ranch. The sky above is still a sultry, yawning blue, deep and tired, basking in the throes of dawn as the sun just now makes its way over the crest of the Tetons in the distance so that the house sits for just a moment longer in its pool of shadowed blues. 

Joel pauses on the border of that somber darkness, afraid suddenly of what awaits him inside; boots glued to the ground with the gum of cowardice. He doesn’t want to see her broken. He doesn’t want to see her hurting. But there’s no other recourse, he knows this. The death of the estranged father she’d fought with all her life, the inheritance of this world that seems suddenly too big for just one orphaned girl, all alone now. 

He’s afraid that he’ll walk into that house he’s always seen as other and home all wrapped into one—that Olympus that was so far removed and out of reach even when he walked through it’s halls to the man who’d given him sanctuary and salvation, to the man he knew mistreated her sometimes, didn’t love her enough—and not have the capacity to recognize her, this girl who’d always been familiar and stranger all in one also. 

Joel Miller suddenly feels afraid of the memory she exists as in his mind, in the face of the woman he knows she is now. 

When he lets himself in the back kitchen door, it’s still nighttime within. The cool dryness of the AC cranked up to inhuman temperatures makes him shiver once while sprouting a damp sweat along his nape. He should’ve showered before coming, should’ve washed the ride and the days of camp off his skin before walking into her presence, but all he’d managed were his hands and face. There’d been panic to make sure she was well, if not then alive, at least. But he should be more presentable for her. 

Hell, he should’ve been here for her when she came home for the first time in two years to the house where her father had died. He should’ve been here when the man died. 

But the herd had needed moving. He hadn’t thought it’d all happen so quickly, thought he had more time, that they all had more time. He’d hoped she wouldn’t return at all, if he was being honest. There was nothing here for her. Nothing except memories of a gilded and loveless, already motherless childhood. The reality of all she was set to inherit. The truth of an aloneness Joel didn’t know if she was prepared for. 

He moves through the house slowly, afraid to disturb the ghosts and the silence. The interior, immaculate and beautiful and solemn. Something out of a movie picture or the gloss of a magazine. Something covered not in dust but in sadness. The stairs are silent as his spinning mind makes up for the creak, the boots she’d sent him on his last birthday hit the richly piled rug at the top, and the hallway to the bedrooms yawns long and frightening in front of him. Two grand a pop, the boots—Lucchese, he’d looked them up on the iPhone she’d sent him the year before. A gift giver, generous to a fault, kind to a detriment. She sent something to all the ranch hands that’d worked for her father since she was a girl. Something for the entire ranch at Christmas. And all he managed each time was a perfunctory thank you card, like he did every year because he remembered, years ago, in her little voice, polite people send thank you notes, Joel, my grandmother told me so. Last year he’d written that they were too much, that she shouldn’t have, that he was grateful. There wasn’t much else to say. 

That was the extent of their communication, familiar and stranger in one, the far removed golden child of the Kelly. They’d all called him that, the Kelly, for as long as he’d known the man. As if he was some Scottish laird of old, ruling over his clan and half the world. Egotistical, was what it really was. He’d thought himself a god among men, in the face of his only child. Ridiculous was what Joel saw it all for, a put on play, a farce.

And wonder of wonders, she was entirely unlike him because of course she would be. Of course a man ruled by nothing more than ego and narcissism had been sent his polar opposite in the form of his only child. Kind hearted, was what she was—sending him a birthday gift every year. Remembering them all here always no matter how far she’d gone. He sent her a thank you note for each benevolence in return, a word of respectful gratitude for the fact that a person like her could ever remember a dog like him. 

Sometimes, Joel had wanted to go to him, the old man, Oswald Kelly, and ask him where his daughter was, why he wasn’t looking for her, keeping her closer, caring for her. He wasn’t the sort of man that could’ve ever understood such callous behavior towards one’s child.

The last time she’d been here, over two years ago: less than forty eight hours that had ended in screaming so terrible they’d all heard it down from the barn, sitting in uncomfortable, swollen silence, the spinning of tires ringing as she yelled at her father that he was never going to see her again, the man’s echoing laugh as she’d fled him. 

Joel hadn’t seen her on that visit, it’d been so quick and angry. Flying down on the jet from New Haven for her father’s seventieth birthday and not even making it long enough for the festivities. This was what her life was, as he’d observed it from a distance for all these years, the singular daughter of this great house, coming to her father, attempting joy and finding nothing but disappointment at the end of him. 

She’d been right, a knowing streak running through her. Kelly had never seen her again, and Joel didn’t know if the old man had regretted it or not, the anger and the estrangement and the lack of love. But the last time he’d spoken to him, hours before setting off on their move, the herd always came before everything else, the ranch was all that mattered is what the man had always said, with death scratching at the window, his frail and withered body licked down to almost nothing from the austere and imposing figure Joel had always known him as, he’d asked for her. His only child. Do you think she’ll come, Joel? The dying man had asked him. My daughter, do you think she’ll come see me? Joel had lied a lie he hadn’t known was one, said she would, that he’d call her as soon as he was back. 

In the end, he hadn’t even afforded her that decency, a personal call.

He comes to her open bedroom door now, pitch dark as grief within, and the stench of sorrow and liquor seeping from the living grave. He looks down the long and empty hall for a brief second, wishing it didn’t have to be him, that again, he didn't have to see her any way other than okay. And he realizes that there’s something about her, as she will exist now, that makes him cowardly. Something about this house without the man who’d granted him the absolution of a hiding place all those years ago, who’d understood and sheltered Joel in the midst of his own past grief, that makes him cowardly. The house feels wrong without Kelly within it, wrong with only her as its holder now. 

Joel steps into her dark, and it’s a battleground—

—You are silent and motionless in the blue room. 

Nothing of the gleaming splendor that dresses the rest of the home sleeps in here. There are clothes everywhere, an exploded suitcase lies open and massacred in the middle of the plush white rug, a turned over bottle of red wine bleeding into your clothes. Shredded pages with scratched on writing slashed across them, the dusted white mounds of crushed pills, as if you’d smashed each one individually beneath the thumb of your grief. The sight makes him more afraid, the scent of weed and cigarettes heavy in the air, as he takes the final step towards the wrecked bed, and a single small foot hangs limply from the edge.

He stares at it long and hard for a second, afraid, afraid again, still, of what he’ll find. He says your name once, short and gruff like a dog’s bark. It’s what he feels like. Animal, bestial, lacking any sort of cognizance amidst this minefield. His heart beats against his spine, and he thinks he should do something else, shake you, check for a pulse, his bones throb inside his skin. He needs to fucking move, but the smell of smoke is so cloying he’s choking on his own tongue. 

Your ankle twitches.

And Joel sucks in a sigh of relieved air without panic, saying your name again. His voice is level now, maybe gentle, no more barking dog. His eyes move up the length of one pretty leg, and then quickly, he averts his gaze when he gets high up enough he’s met with soft-creased asscheek covered in silk. Swallowing his tongue, his eyes roll in their sockets, looking for anything else to look at besides the sight of panty clad ass. He steps closer again, gripping the edge of the sheet to pull it over your scantily clad body, eyes flitting to the silver spun clock on the nightstand, the warm glow of the hall light shows that they have two hours to get you sober and presentable before the funeral. 

Joel should have been here. He does not feel that he is even here now. And the guilt eats at him like acid. The fear too. 

“Darlin’, you’ve gotta get up now,” he says softly, taking hold of your shoulder, scalded by the feel of fragile skin, realizing with the suddenness of a gunshot that you’ll be the Kelly now. He gives you a gentle shake, “We’ve gotta get you ready,” and his heart pumps blood like a machine. The sight of the dry liquor bottle toppled on the nightstand, the shattered glass glittering the floor in crystal, the empty pill bottles, it all taunts him. His guilt is a cacophony in his mind. He knows he’s going to have to stick his fingers down your throat, make you spit it all up, that you’ll hate him for all of this afterwards, but when his gaze meets streaked rust, dark and shocking against the white sheets, he’s kicked into terrified action. 

He turns you over, your head lolling sickeningly in unconscious stupor, hair a tangled mess strewn about your face so that he has to dig for your eyes, parting the curtains of your fringe to uncover you. He focuses on your closed eyes, the too long lashes clumped together, lips cracked and parched. 

He should’ve fucking been here. 

Smoothing his fingers along the lengths of your arms, he keeps his eyes on your face and averted from all the skin that keeps peeking out below, searching the divots and slopes of your arms for hurts. When he gets to your right hand, battleground of a long ago broken hurt, he finds the drying crust of blood, the ragged split in the soft, small palm, thankfully shallow.

 His eyes smart, looking down at the broken glass, feeling the tear in you. 

Gripping you gently below the elbows he pulls you into his arms, cradled like a child, light as loss. Your head lolls again, neck crooked at an unnatural angle as he carries you into the restroom, careful of your head, knocking the lights on and putting you down in front of the toilet bowl. He pulls your camisole to rights, making sure everything is covered, and gathers your mess of hair as carefully as he can, trying his best to not snag the fragile strands in his too rough hands, but gripping you firmly in position. And ignoring the sound of your awakening cry, he sticks two fingers into your slack jawed mouth and down your throat until he feels the hot rush of vomit. 

Crouching behind you, his thighs bracket you, keeping your form from slumping over as you empty the poison from your belly, flushing the alcohol soaked bile as you struggle. He wipes his messy hand on the leg of his jeans and rubs soothing circles on your back, his fingers woven through the soft silk of your hair to keep your head in place and your face clear. His heart thumps in rhythm with your heaves, your too quick, panicked breathing. There seems to be not enough oxygen for the two of you and your grief in the too small room of the commode, and Joel gasps like a dying fish, trying to swallow calm breaths. 

When you finally stop your heaving, you rest your arms at the edge of the gleaming porcelain, head hung low, defeated, wracked with shivers or silent sobs, he isn’t sure, a strange and horrible keening noise, so small he barely catches it, held in your throat. There’s the finest down of peach fuzz that covers the tender slope of your vulnerable nape, and it makes Joel feel suddenly, just as vulnerable, just as unprotected. At a complete loss for how to help you. 

“Finally decided to show your face,” you croak, voice ragged with your sick. 

His fingers tighten once around your shoulder, a panicked tick of reminder that he’s here now, that he’s him. “I was moving the herd. It had to be done. Your father, he—” he stutters, trying explain, tripping over his own guilt ridden words. “I didn’t think it’d happen now, so fast, that you’d get here so soon. I thought we had more time.” 

We. 

Your skin seems to cool by the second beneath his fingertips, and then you’re shrugging his touch away, huddling closer to the porcelain bowl, further away from him. 

“Get out.”

“Let me explain. I—” And he’s begging now. He can hear the note of it in his voice. Begging for forgiveness. For a chance. 

“I don’t want to see you.” You don’t say his name. “Get out.” It feels worse than anything. 

“I’m here now. I didn’t know— I didn’t think.” He reaches to grab for you again, but you turn to face him suddenly. Wiping the back of your hand against your mouth, pushing your heels at his shins to kick him away. Your eyes are red rimmed, the hollows beneath bruised with lack of sleep. But fire spits from the deep color, all anger and hurt. 

“Go deal with your fucking ranch,” you fling the words at him. “It’s all you care about anyways.” And they weren’t shivers, he sees now, they’re tears tracked as proof of all his guilt, all his lacking, along the slopes of your fine grained cheeks. 

Your, you say. As if this place and anything in it has ever been his. He’s never wanted any of it like that, only ever seen a thing that needed taking care of, and him, with the ability to care for it. 

“I needed you,” you whisper as if the thought comes along on a second wind of anger, a realization that sends your voice breaking, hitching, your chest caving in on itself as the tears come faster and faster now. “He’s dead, and I needed you.”

“I’m sorry,” he begs. “I’m so sorry.” His voice breaks now too. He thinks he’ll cry now too, for the man who he also lost, who despite it all meant something to him, as well. For you, who’s lost even more. For Joel’s own guilt. 

But he doesn’t think you see any of that, not his apology, not his regret, not his own grief. You turn away from him again, laying your temple down again on your forearm. “Get out. I’ll be ready soon.”

And so he goes.

-

Your father is made small and withered in death. 

One of the wealthiest men in the entire world. A stranger, a titan, a nightmare of a man. 

It wasn’t something you’d ever considered, that a human body could look so colorless and frigid and not alive. Like a shock or a ringing bell, it’s a realization that you’re an orphan now. That you’re all alone. 

You feel something like a memory of regret. Or something that’s like the idea that you should feel regret, that you should feel guilt for how it was between the two of you. But all that is overshadowed by the reality of what you weren’t. All you feel even more, or in actual reality, is the old loss of what you’d never been to each other. That, you realize, is the seed of your grief. That long ago wound, that child’s understanding that he wasn’t like all the other fathers, that he’d never care for you the way other children were cared for. 

Looking down at the frozen face that looks nothing like the one he’d worn the last time you’d seen him, the wispy thatch of hair that hadn’t been so jarringly white before sickness had ravaged his body, you realize that this is no new loss, it is only a continuation, a reopening of a very old one. 

The cavernous cathedral at your back is silent, vacated by the sea of people that had congregated here earlier. And with sickening curiosity, you uncoil an arm from where you’ve got it wrapped around yourself, reaching out to press a finger against the ice cold back of his hand. Shockingly not alive; he feels made of rubber. 

Everyone that’d been here to bid farewell to this behemoth turned slip of a man, to catch a glimpse of you, packed like teeth into Jackson’s grandest cathedral; business men and heads of state from around the world, the oldest family names in the country, figures of the highest echelons of wealth and society, vipers circling the barrel—half the world here to see this person who was supposed to have been your father but was really only a stranger. 

You take your hand back, and you don’t say goodbye as you turn away from his body. There’s no farewell to really tell. 

And at the back of the church, hiding in a bright ream of sunlight, Joel stands propped against the face of a saint. Dark and silent and maybe even more far removed than your dead dad. Watching sentinel. Oswald Kelly’s hovering man—come to watch over him one last time. 

The silk of your stockings slide against each other at the junction of your thighs, the hiss of your skirt around your calves as your reed thin heels click against the stone, and you pull your armor as tightly around yourself as you can. There’s a hollow echo inside of everywhere and everything, your mind like a gong, reverberating, and his gaze is so steady, hazel bright, deeply shaded by the lip of his dark hat, beckoning you towards him from beneath the brim. 

Large and strong and steadfast, your heart gives a painful, longing thump—stupid, writhing thing—and you can only bear to look him in the eye for a second, and if you were to really think about saying goodbye to that father that never really was, lying behind you, slipping further and further away, you’d say it to the man that always stood as his shadow before the world, before you ever said it to the man himself. 

-

The drive back home is cast in frigid silence and made all the more uncomfortable because you can practically hear Joel’s brain clicking and ticking away with worry. 

He’d sent your car and driver away with a harsh word while you collected your final goodbyes and words of respect from the last smattering of people congregated and waiting for the newly birthed heir to one of the greatest fortunes in the world. 

Hovering over your shoulder, he’d kept anyone from stepping too close or getting too friendly, so close you could feel the heat of his chest through the silk of your blouse, and then going suddenly full on aggressive when a reporter from the New York Times had approached, fishing for a quote on the future of the Kelly empire. Ushering you away with a hovering hand at the small of your back before the man could get half a question out, he’s opening the truck’s door for you as a haze descends over your eyes, the distant shutter and flash of cameras bursting in your peripherals, a latent hangover and sleep deprivation and not enough to eat in the last forty eight hours causing you to sag in his hold. Then it’s only his big fist wrapping around the span of your wrist as he lifts you into the truck, your eyes downcast and unable to take in sight or sound, vision all a blur. You murmur a barely there thank you with his hand fitting at the dip of your waist, big body blocking yours entirely from prying eyes trying to catch a glimpse or a stumble, and for a single second, your entire weight is suspended in his hold, allowing you to bypass the struggle of balancing your high heel on the step up, and then you’re sliding onto the leather of the seat, the whisper of your cashmere and silk rustling around you as he handles you like a child being spirited away from the scene of a crime. 

The door shuts gently behind you, face turned away from the flashing lights, the watchful eyes of the whole world, and worst of all, the assessment of his concerned gaze. All you’re afforded are thirty seconds of privacy to let out a single gasping sob. 

And now, an hour and a half of silent purgatory. 

You slip your heels off, flexing your smarting toes against the damp of your stockings and tuck your folded legs beneath you on the seat. Paying the frantic energy of his anxiety and lodged words no mind, you consider instead: your new reality. The burden of it all means very little to you now. The last of your worries is being readied for entombing as the two of you speed down the eighty nine, zinging past the bright Wyoming green. The thrum of his truck drowns out your thoughts, brand new, probably over a hundred grand, only the best for your father’s right hand man, and the Kelly Ranch insignia emblazoned proudly on the sides. A brand for the whole world to see just who exactly is being whisked away to her old home turned brand spanking new grave. 

You might be feeling a little bit dramatic. But then again— you’d just put your last remaining parent in an actual grave, surely that provides you some allowances. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his big paw gripping the leathered steering wheel in a death clutch, knuckles white with his frustration at the dilemma you pose, his own discomfort. You’re sure if he thought you wouldn’t catch him, he’d be squirming in his seat. 

You do something to him sometimes, you know this. Not in any way you’d like, not in any interesting way, that of a woman affecting a man, but something respectfully harrowing. Maybe something a little bit like fear. 

There has existed between the two of you, always, that strange intimacy of two people who’ve known each other for a very long time, and yet, have always remained at a far removed, arms length distance from one another. 

A professional intimacy of sorts. Your father’s foreman, shadow, fixer. The man who guarded that treasure trove you’d inherit one day, today; the thing your father loved most in the world. Two people who’ve known each other a long time, and yet, don’t really know each other at all. 

There has always been, however, the fact of the birthday. 

The birthday. Your birthday.

The way you’d latched onto that small, immense, detail when you’d first discovered it at fourteen, when he’d newly arrived at the ranch and the true weight of your first real crush had really hit you, it was probably not entirely healthy. But you’d thought yourself in love with your father’s man, the first figure of the male species who’d ever drawn your attention in such a way. 

He’d never paid you any mind; you were the boss's daughter, a figurehead or a responsibility, maybe a nuisance, although he’d never ever treated you as one. But the day someone had let slip it was his birthday, on the same day as yours, your teenage heart had swelled with the naive hope of fate. It was meant to be, the two of you were connected, so on and so forth, swallowed by girlish innocence and made buoyant by fantasy. 

But you’d had something to share with someone, which was what really mattered. Something tangible, even if only in your inexperienced little mind, something to wield as comfort so that the first time your father had forgotten your special day, fifteen, and what a tender age it had been, you’d had something to cling to. That's when your gifts to him had started. It was your way of making sure there was at least one person in the whole world who’d remember that was your day too. That you were alive, that you mattered. A reminder of yourself. And as the years and birthdays passed, sometimes, when he sent those coldly gracious notes of his, you’d wished you could’ve written back with honesty. Said something like, I’m so lonely, wish you were here, wherever it was in the world you’d found yourself at the time. 

And of course, he was gorgeous and older, strong and patient and capable, entirely unattainable. Impossible to forget. You’d gone so far, traveled wide, gotten yourself an overpriced education that would probably serve you for nothing, had lovers and parties and splendor, and always, you remembered your gifts for him, you remembered him. It was the single most important detail of your birthday every year. 

The leather creaks beneath his fist again, chapped knuckles set to burst before he flexes his fingers out, long and straight. Thickly built hands, strong, made for working or hurting, on a man who you’ve never seen be anything but stoically patient. 

He was strange in that way, neither wholly impulsive nor precisely intentional in his mannerisms. More so, it was that there was something extremely neutral about him, a middle buoyancy of personality. Strict with the cowboys, exacting, wielding his title as ranch foreman with an iron fist and your father’s blessing, and yet still, quiet, serious, with that patient gentleness about him. You’d seen it in the way he’d handled Ellie when she’d first come to the ranch, young and skinny with that hollow look of trauma kids who’d seen things they shouldn’t have shamed adults with. She’d been a little older than you, and with an air you’d not understood, a sort of lived past you’d been naive to the existence of, frightened when confronted by it, and yet inevitably, the two of you’d become fast friends eventually.

You’d even experienced it yourself, on two treasured occasions, that gentleness that you’d held onto for years. Nurturing the memory of him in your mind like a delusional bloom. 

He stretches his hand again, wheel caught between his thumb and forefinger, cinching it there, back and forth. His nails are meticulously clean, cut to the quick, and you imagine he must spend a great deal of time cleaning himself up when he works so hard at getting himself so dirty most days. 

You can see him sneaking glances at you, and he coughs once, a clearing of his nervous throat. Averting your gaze, you turn your face away so that you’ll be able to watch him through the reflection in the window. He monopolizes the space in the cabin of the truck, broad shoulders and hulking form, all the fine leather smell washed away in the scent of him. That bay rum aftershave he’s always worn, the one with the distinctive notes of bay leaf, cloves and citrus. An old fashioned scent, masculine and crisp. 

You’d snuck into the bunk once with Ellie, before he’d moved into the foreman’s cabin, before Switzerland, when the two of you were still girls running rampant and free through the ranch, clutching desperately at the last vestiges of any sort of happy childhood you could scrounge up for one another. You’d peeked in his things, found a whole world of Joel shaped curiosities. The glass etched bottle of aftershave, a hole spotted t-shirt with a burnt orange longhorn across the front, Flannery O’Connor’s The Complete Stories—something you found comforting, knowing he could read about the small, the freakish, real life; thinking that perhaps he was homesick for the comfort of the South, hungering for a taste of the life he’d had then, through books. And then, in a spine cracked copy of Suttree, the pages almost falling apart beneath your fingertips, dog eared and well loved, her picture tucked between the pages.

It had been the first time you’d done something you knew you shouldn’t have and actually regretted it, looking down at that green eyed photograph. 

You’d run back to your room after that, ashamed and something a little bit like jealous, desperate to know who she was, desperate for someone to keep a picture of you like that—as if they loved you. And years later, you’d found the scent for yourself. The little molasses glass bottle you still have and pull out on occasion, when you’re feeling extra bad, extra lonesome, extra far away from the whole world, just for a reminding of home. 

Beside you, he sighs again, coughs again, brings you back to himself and the present. Just spit it out already, you think exasperatedly, say something, anything else besides how sorry you are. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he starts, and you roll your eyes, scoffing quietly. 

“You already said that.” Sullen. Mullish. You wish you were a child who could still throw a tantrum and get away with it. Letting your eyes go unfocused from his reflection in the window, you brood at the sight of everything that’s yours now as he turns off the highway, passing below the iron eave of the Kelly Ranch entrance. Eight hundred thousand acres of pristine Wyoming land nestled into the deep valley surrounded by the Grand Tetons mountain range. 

“Well, I’m sayin’ it again.” He’s driving too fast, and you refuse to turn and look at his face. Your heart beats blood in your ears, and you screw your eyes shut to the dizzying blur of green legacy, not wanting to see any of it—him. 

Your belly swoops, going slightly nauseous and gurgling. 

“I didn’t think you’d get here so quick.” He swallows, “Hell, I didn’t think it’d all happen so damn fast.”

“I was already in New York,” you tell him, voice clipped with breathlessness. “I left Paris last week.”

“What? I didn’t know— I—”

“Why would you?”

“I would’ve called you. I would’ve gotten you out here quicker.”

“Ellie called. It’s better like this, Joel.” Finally letting yourself say his name out loud, it feels wrong and molten on your tongue, a heaviness being spit up from the depths of your stomach. “We don’t have to pretend anymore. He’s dead now.”

“There’s no pretending. He wanted to see you—”

“Please, stop.”

But he urges on unheeded: “He told me so before I left. Told me—”

“Stop,” you snap. Finally turning to look at him and hating him for it. For how gorgeous he is, for all the things he’s always made you feel for as long as you can remember what it was to feel something for a man, for all he did or did not have with your father when you had none of it or so much of an entirely different thing. “Stop. I don’t want to hear any of it. It doesn't matter anymore, Joel.”

“But you should know. You deserve to know that—”

“What?” Because that one hurts. “I deserve to know what?” That he actually had loved you but had just never been able to show it? That now it was too late? That the only person the great Oswald Kelly had ever been able to speak to of the supposed care he had for his only daughter was the hired help? You’d read once that one should never let their parents anywhere near their real humiliations. You’d tried your damndest to follow that as soon as you’d grown up. “It’s not your place,” you seethe with teeth bared, an animal shoved into a corner and made to fight for its life, deciding you won’t ever let Joel near them either.  

He spits a cursing, growled sound of frustration, but doesn’t continue. The two of you find yourselves at an impasse, and you turn back to your windowed mirror of him, eyes pinching hot, filling with tears. One of the things your father disliked most about you, your easy tears, and a single salt marred inadequacy tracks down the slope of your cheek, dripping off the edge of your jaw into the bandaged cup of your palm, and you breathe slow and measured through your open mouth, watching the fog cloud grow and shrink against the glass obscuring your vision of him. 

-

The last time you’d missed your mother, the one you’d never known, in any sort of real and true way, you’d been eighteen. Returning to an empty house after celebrating your high school graduation in a far off school, alone. 

In the midst of your sophomore year, you’d been sent away to a Swiss boarding school. It had been something worse than devastating, losing your life in Wyoming, the only home you’d ever know, Ellie, the other people on the ranch… But it was far removed enough that you couldn’t bother, where you couldn’t ask for things like attention or consideration. The education had been excellent, the upbringing desperately lonely ending on a whimpering sigh despite your many accomplishments. You’d wanted her very badly then indeed, your mother. To have been there, to have helped you pick your dress, kissed your cheek after watching you walk across the stage. To have wiped your tears when she told you that your father wasn’t there because he was busy managing the whole world, but that he was proud of you, that he’d have been there if he could. You’d wished she could’ve been there to lie to you so that you wouldn’t have needed to lie to yourself. 

Peering down from your balanced perch atop the deck’s bannister, you survey the deep bed of Lily of the Valley, destroyed beneath the vindictive soles of your bare feet. He’d planted them for her all around the house after she’d died, her favorite flower. 

You’d always hated them. 

And that was the thing of it all, which you’d learned when you grew old enough to recognize such things like disdain. He couldn't stand you because you reminded him of her. Clichéd and old and tired. An excuse for being a neglectful father. The daughter who was too much like her dead mother, and thus did not deserve to be loved. 

You tip your head back, nursing at the lip of fine aged Macallan, and the sky is a glass mirror of blackened silver streaks. You’re almost positive that all the stars in the Milky Way are visible from right here at this very spot in the heart of Wyoming. The sight makes your broken heart feel full and falsely mended. 

You’re certain you’re painting a pretty picture right now: tipsy on a bottle of your dead dad’s sacredly hoarded whiskey that probably cost as much as someone’s house, staring up at the stars in your newly inherited home with a whole unappreciated life full of possibilities ahead of you. Basking in the title of your newly minted— orphan-hood? Orphan-ness? A peer of the orphans. 

You snort softly, sucking on the bottle again, letting the heat of it settle in your belly, smolder in your heart. Your head feels full of bubbles and sugar and sad. 

There’s a part of you that feels a little ridiculous, despite the circumstances. You’re good at compartmentalizing, good at being objective of your realities. Obviously: sad because your father is now dead, and it’d been nine months and eleven days since you’d last spoken to him. Sad because he’d never given a shit about you. Sad because you’re alone, dumped by the stupid French jockey boyfriend who you’d not even liked very much, just a few days before this whole pathetic ordeal of acquiring your orphan-hood, yeah, that’s what you’re sticking with, had occurred. Not to mention the army of looming lawyers and financial advisors and various heads of business vying for your attention, waiting for the what next?

And Joel.

A one man army of looming Joel. 

So you’re feeling morose, blue, maybe a little spoiled, but brought low and cut short. Depressed and unsatisfied with your life thus far. 

Poor little rich girl. Poor little orphan. Poor little me.

What you want? 

Someone to care. 

Someone to love you. 

Hard to come by. Impossible to buy. 

The stars gleam purple silver, winking at you. The bracketing black so dark it swallows the eye. Another taste of the nutty bouquet of smoked apple oranges, and soon you’ll be tipsy enough you won’t be able to balance your butt on the bannister’s ledge anymore. Maybe you’ll go humpty dumpty over the edge and crack your skull against your mother’s valley of destroyed Lily’s. 

You laugh again with sound now, not crazy, only an orphan, ha, but you think that it’s only that it feels shockingly as if you’ve fallen through the surface of your life. As if you are still falling with nothing and no one to grab on to, to help stabilize you. A really terrible, shit-out-of-luck feeling. 

Your eyes continue their infernal leaking, and you blow your nose loudly on the inside of your sweater. You’ve given yourself three days to do whatever the hell you want, be as disgusting as you may. When the three days are up you’ll plan to get your act together, take responsibility and hold of your life and become the woman you should be. 

Who that is? Still being decided. 

You think that maybe you’ll buy another jet before that time’s up. Or an island. Something ridiculous. Maybe you’ll sell the goddamn ranch. 

You eye the dark rolling hills of the valley with seething suspicion. Let’s see what Joel says about that. You, marching up to the highway entrance and spearing a For Sale sign in the dirt of the largest privately owned cattle ranch in the continental United States. Way more than that God forsaken surly frown is what you’d get. 

So long, Joel, it’s been swell. I’m done with this place. It’s time to pack it up and find some new hunk of land to care about more than you care about me or anything else. 

Maybe you’ll be real funny and put up a Craigslist ad. 

And it isn’t that you don’t love this place, the only home you’ve ever known. You do. In a way that is passionate and consuming and irreconcilable. Everything about it, the serenity, the guarding mountains and the deep woods, the home you’d been born in, that both your parents had died in. You do love it in your way. 

It’s only that every man you’ve ever loved—loved—had always cared more about the place than he’d ever cared about you. 

For the longest time, most of your youth until you’d decided that you officially felt an adult, you’d thought you’d hated your father. There was just so much anger and resentment and the resound of his ever furious words and insults and endless disappointment. The echo of no mother ringing so loudly in your ears that the confounding feelings had all been mistaken for hatred. But with age and distance and life, you’d realized you didn't hate him. You never had. You thought, actually, and this was a very good and mature thought of yours, that you were the only person in the whole world that had ever seen him as only a man and not a god. 

He was only a man, full of greed and grief and missing the mother of the child he’d probably never wanted. Nothing more or less. 

Maybe it was that you felt sorry for him. Not in the way of pity, but in the way of one person feeling empathy for another in a clinical and helpless sort of manner. And a numb, detached sort of sadness. A longing for something that you’d never had and had always wanted but eventually learned to live without. 

Ultimately, his disappointment had turned on him, and now it was all you felt you had for him at the end of it all. 

But, for some reason, and an annoying one at that, you do think that, if you try very, very hard, you could bring yourself to hate Joel Miller. There’s satisfaction in that possibility, vindication—resentment that even now, as practically strangers, you know he’d be able to pull that sort of feeling out of you which could result in hatred. Something strong and overwhelming and not easily escaped. 

Your stomach rumbles, and you smile blithely at all your inherited legacy, filling the hollow with more drink. Three days to behave very badly, as badly as you can. The whiskey is so good, and swishing it around in your mouth, you tip your head back further, gurgling it loudly at the back of your throat. 

“What the hell are you doing?”

You jerk, scrambling to keep your balance, choking a little on smokey apples and your own spit. A trickle of the golden amber liquor drips out of the corner of your mouth as you find him hiding in the dark across the deck. Accustomed to drooling over him, you wipe it away with the back of your hand. 

“Having a party. Would you like to join?”

“Are you drunk again?”

Tough crowd. Ugh.  “Never mind. You’re not invited. Go away.”

“You need to go inside and go to bed.”

You tip your chin at him, putting on doe eyes. “Alright. And are you going to be my new daddy also?” You say in a baby voice.

Fucking Christ, you hear him whisper under his breath, turning away to run an exasperated palm over his mouth. Frustration seethes off of him like sulfur. He’s tired. Of you maybe. Of the whole circus this place has become in the past few days—and rightfully so. 

“What do you want? I’m extremely busy, if you can’t tell.”

“Just thought I’d check on ya.” Courteous, always the gentleman, bullshit. You roll your eyes at him. 

“I don’t need you to check on me.” And you, ever the child. One day you swear you’ll grow up. 

But it can’t be said that you’re entirely selfish either. You have considered the fact of Joel’s own grief at the loss of your father. After all, they’d been much closer than you’d ever been to him for many years. And maybe, in his own cold and removed and superior way, your father had seen this man who you’ve thought yourself in love with since you were a teenager, as something like a son. 

Probably, that’s just your own wishful thinking: that Oswald Kelly had ever been capable of such tender feelings.

Maybe the fact of Joel’s own grief is the thorn beneath your nail bed that’s making you so angry with him, so needing of his attention. Maybe it’s that he’d failed to fulfill your silly and girlish fantasy that upon receiving the news of your only remaining parents death, he’d have been here waiting for you, at this home he’d guarded for you for so long, ready to take you into his arms and console and care for you. 

When instead, he’d been off doing what he’d always done for as long as you’d known him. Protecting your father’s interests, his legacy. 

“Is this how it’s going to be?”

“How?”

“You, being difficult.” Driving me fuckin’ crazy— he adds again under his breath. 

“I’m an orphan now, Joel.” You’re becoming quickly addicted to the word. “I think I should be afforded a tiny bit of leeway to drive people fuckin’ crazy,” you mock his Southern drawl. Enough of your time had been spent in Europe over the past two years, kissing Europeans, that you’d sloughed off the last of your American twang; something of a vaguely European lilt peppering your words every now and then that Ellie likes to tease you for whenever the two of you speak on occasion. 

A muscle under his left eye twitches at the jab, and you take another deep swig of the bottle, provoking him with your gaze. Wishing you had whatever it is a woman needs to entice this man. Like the fucking vet. Fucking world renowned, brilliant, highly coveted, beautiful veterinarian. You know about her. You’re sure he thinks he’s been discreet over the years with their whatever they’ve had, Tess, but you know. 

Maybe you’ll be insane and irrational and possessive, taking advantage of your three crazy days, and fire her with your new found power. See what he has to say about that. Ha.

Ha. Ha. Ha. 

Obviously not. 

Despite your current hysteria, your goal is not to send the ranch head over heels into a tailspin.

But the imagining is soothing. 

“Want some?” You hold the heavy crystal out towards him in a peace offering, held precariously between two sweaty knuckles. “It’s probably worth as much as your truck. Would be a waste for me to finish on my own.” You eye what’s left of it, about half, and give him a sheepish grin. It really is very good. 

He looks at you for one long, solemn moment, always so silent and pensive, this strange enigma of a man. You get to watch in real time as he loses whatever fight it is he’s trying to fight against you, victorious when he shrugs and comes over slowly, resting his butt against the bannister—a carefully respectful distance away from you. 

When he takes the bottle from your swinging clutch, gripped from the base, careful not to touch you in any way, you see the real sad in his eyes. The dim lights bleeding out through the big windows of the family room without a family shine on his face in strips and bursts. A shadow here, golden warmth there. He’s got more lines around his eyes than you remember from the last time you’d been this close to him. Smile lines made bright white in the center and gold burnished at the edges from too much sun. There’s little bursts of silver threaded at his temples now too, a gleam here and there in his dark beard. Forty four years old, he’d turned on your last birthday. 

You dig your nails into the soft meat of your palms, and your belly smolders as he brings the bottle to his lips, tasting the exact place your own mouth had just been moments ago. You press your knees together as hard as you can, head a little woozy with the color of his eyes; the most gorgeous green, caramel hazel. 

You’d graduated two years ago with a degree in art history and had done absolutely nothing with it since. It was just that everything appeared boring and pointless and shallow. Your whole life had one day suddenly seemed just a little silly. Useless, overpriced degree, nothing to be done with extensive knowledge in color theory when your world is expecting such different things from you now. 

But you sure as hell can appreciate the color of his eyes in extensive and meticulous detail. There is that. 

Watching the slow slide of the amber liquor down the bottle-neck, the long pull of his lush mouth, the ripple of his strong throat, and the way his eyes go a little wider, shocked at how good it is. You laugh soft: “I know, right.”

He takes another pull, another swallow. That’s what you want to be—swallowed just like that. “Damn, that’s good.” His mouth is a little wet, bottom lip shiny with thousands of dollars worth of your father’s favorite whiskey, and his eyes are sad. 

You’d said you were going to be bad, but you don’t want to be bad to him. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

He swallows again, tipping his head towards you, trying to catch your too soft words—he’s got a bad ear, you know why—and turns to peer at you from beneath his low pulled brow, the tip of his tongue peeking out to swipe at the drop of liquor you wish you could suck off his tongue. 

“You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for.”

The first time he’d shown you that gentleness of his: You’d fallen from your horse at school in your junior year. Something had frightened the beast, and she’d bucked you, sent you flying ten feet in the air, ragdoll-like, before you’d landed badly on your right arm, a comminuted fracture in your radius that you’d needed surgery to fix. At your insistence, and with only a few weeks left to spare, you’d been sent home for the remainder of the semester. Your father had been incensed but eventually allowed it. He’d been away from the ranch on business, after all, at no risk of being truly disturbed by you. But when you’d been readying to return to Switzerland at the end of the summer, arm healed, courage not, you’d not been able to get back on a horse no matter what you tried. Joel had helped you, before they’d shipped you off again. Trotted the corral with you for hours and hours before you’d finally been able to relax and sit on your own without tears and vertigo. No questions or admonishments, nothing but the quiet burr of his deep voice, guiding you and the mare along. 

It had been a kindness unlike any you’d experienced in maybe your whole life. 

“I’ve been bad.”

“Nah. You couldn’t ever be.”

The second time: “Did today make you think of Sarah?” Years after you’d found that green eyed photograph, he’d shared her with you. 

His gaze turns suddenly sharp, but you’re not worried you’ve stepped in unbreachable territory. “Yeah.” The echo of her name rings around the two of you. 

“In a bad way or a good way?” He takes another long swig, a low whistle through his teeth and a shake of his head before he’s handing the bottle back to you—again, carefully. 

“Both.”

You take your own swallow, slicking your tongue all around where his just was, and you’re drunk for real now. Drunk on a man. 

“Do you ever regret telling me about her?”

“Nah.” He tips his head back, looking up at the thick beams of the deck’s awning. He’s got the longest lashes you’ve ever seen on a man, thick and curling. The deepest voice you’ve ever heard too, sultry, a bedroom voice. A voice for fucking. Your belly swirls and dips, and you want so much you’re dizzy with it. 

Heart beating like it’s about to burst, out of breath on the verge of hyperventilating, you can taste his mouth in your mouth, the imagination flavor of it. This is what it must feel like to die. This is what your father must have felt like three days ago, this agony. 

His Adam’s apple bobs, and it’s so pronounced, the skin of his throat sun pebbled. There isn’t an inch of him that isn’t all rough-hewn man. “You needed to hear about her then, I s’pose.” 

Yes. “You told me when I needed you to.” After that lonely graduation, the last time you’d missed her really very badly, longed for a mother. Alone, alone, alone little girl. 

“You were missin’ your momma somethin’ fierce. Needed to know you weren’t the only one that felt like that sometimes.”

You laugh a not-laugh, butt scraping against the railing, slipping off your perch, socked-feet thudding beside his gifted boots. The pleasure you feel whenever you see him use one of the things you’ve given him is indescribable. 

“Silly,” you say with barely any sound, his bad ear reaches for your voice again. “At the time it felt like I was the only person in the whole world that had ever felt like that.”

“We all feel like that at one point or another, I reckon.”

“Will you miss him a lot?” You ask looking up at him, the beautiful profile, the strong jaw. You’ve always wondered how he sees you. If he’s ever thought you were beautiful. Other men do, it’s a common thing, a nothing sort of thing. There are always men, there will always be men. But this singular man—this one is not like the rest. 

“Maybe. Can’t tell yet, don’t think. But it felt wrong earlier, walking through his house without him in it.” His house, not yours. 

“Do you wish he’d been your father?” And he turns to look down at you at that, gaze snapping, and you can tell you’ve shocked him with the question. But you’d always wondered. 

“No. Never,” he says with such assuredness, an uncompromising shake of his head. 

And the answer doesn't necessarily shock you in turn. You don't think anyone could have ever wanted a father like that. But it also doesn't help you understand what it was that lived between them either. 

He sighs, perhaps reading the confusion in your gaze. “He helped me at a time when I needed it real bad. Gave me a place and a purpose and a thing to do and take care of. You get me? It was gratitude—maybe. He saved me in a way, after Sarah. Nothing more.” He thinks for a moment, and then, “Perhaps it was that we understood each other about certain things.”

You gaze across the sprawl of dark land as far as the eye reaches, that point of no return where the earth shoots up into the sky, purple blue behemoths in the shape of mountains. 

From this spot, rooted to the deck of your family home, it seems like the whole world is yours to keep. Also, like you’ll never be able to touch any of it with fingers or taste or meaning. 

Your love for this place is complicated—tied up in the people, the memories, the could’ves and should’ves, the whole dreamscape idea of the monument of childhood and all it’d really never been. The time away had felt eternal, like you’d never really been here to begin with, like the young girl who’d grown up on this land had never really existed. But you’d not forgotten them, this, despite your distance. Your home, the father that wouldn’t want you, Wyoming and all its splendor, the people you’d left behind, Joel and Ellie and shared birthdays that meant a secret world to you. Morsels of small happinesses interloped amidst a largely lonely and sad childhood. That’s what it was at its core. 

“Would you be angry with me if I gave it all away?”

He thinks for a moment, maybe you’re making him sadder, but then finally says with a swallow, “No. It’s yours to do with as you please.”

You eye the quarter of whiskey left, but your belly isn’t hungry for its warmth anymore. You want something heavier now. 

“Could you even do that—legally—sell it or somethin’?”

“Probably not. He probably tied it to my fucking life. Sell and die.” You mime your name in an imitation of your fathers deep voice, frowning at yourself the way he’d always frowned when he looked at you, but it pulls a laugh from him, and the painful memory is worth it. “But I have a billion dollars to spend now. More?” You tap your chin—you want to make him laugh again. “Gotta think of something interesting to do with it all.”

His mouth slides into an easy half grin. Like the moon—that beautiful. And he turns to face you fully. “You’re gonna be just fine. You know that, right?”

You turn to face him too, gripping the bannister for dear life. “What? Will you make sure of it?”

“That’s my plan.”

“How’re you gonna do that, d’you reckon?” The American twang bleeds back into your voice, and you’re all swollen lush on the inside, heart a beating fist in your chest. 

“Haven’t gotten that far, if I’m bein’ honest with you.” God. His eyes, the strong bridge of his nose, his mouth. He’s so tall your head has to crook back to look up at him. “I’ll figure something out.” And after another pensive second, and still with that soft, sloped eye smile, he asks, and nicely, “Will you stop drinking now—for me?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” you say with the same sort of smile in return. 

And then suddenly, like vomit again but maybe more humiliating this time: “Did you respect him?” Because you don’t know all the things about him that there are to know, but you do know that Joel Miller’s respect is a thing hard earned. 

He clicks his tongue, and you hear the pop of his jaw as he shifts it like he’s chewing on an honesty. His eyes, his eyes, they’re serious, mercurial, warm and deep also. You worry he won’t answer, that he wouldn’t want to disappoint you or something, but then: “No,” said real simple like.

“Why not?”

And the way he looks down at you, you know already, and it makes that falling through the surface of your own life feeling rise up inside you again, makes your ears pop with embarrassment. Ah. “He never did a very good job of hiding the way he treated you, sweetheart. I couldn’t ever respect a man like that.” 

This is reality right here, this is you falling through your life, this is the realization that it wasn’t only you imposing yourself, your existence, on someone with gifts they didn’t want or ask for. Joel had seen. Joel had understood. 

Someone else had noticed that you exist, and it had been him. 

What else had you ever wanted?

And in the blink of a desperate, yearning eye, drunk on a man still, you’re throwing yourself at him, pressing your mouth hot and heavy to his, kissing him full on the way you’d dreamt of since you knew to dream of such things.

Chapter 2; Sugar, Not so Sweet

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

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#fable of the dog fic #vic fic #joel miller fanfiction #Joel Miller x FMC #joel miller smut #Joel miller angst #the last of us AU

[penkura]

OP Men and Their Kids

Note: Hey, this is something I wrote randomly one day instead of paper I needed to work on. :) Don't worry, the paper was finished and turned in. I will also fully admit I have baby fever at this point in my life, I just gotta get a man lol. These are just some headcanon blurbs about a couple OP men and their kids, how many they'd have, the genders, that's all! Hope you like it!

Part Two Here!

Ace has a daughter, then another three years later. He's happy with just those two, he's a great girl dad and his oldest keeps his last name even if she gets married; he cries when his babies get married. If you can convince him to have one more, it'd be a third girl, you wouldn't even complain about it. Ace would cry again, holding her after she's born and happily introducing her to her big sisters. He sees himself, Sabo, and Luffy in the dynamics between his daughters. Your youngest daughter might be a crybaby, but she's the more adventurous of the three and her sisters are her biggest protectors. You're all his girls and Ace couldn't be happier.

~~

Law has a son first, then five or six years later a daughter, both fully planned and prepared for. Then surprise, there's another little boy two years after your daughter, totally unplanned but welcomed all the same. All three are beyond loved, the daughter is definitely named Cora. Your daughter might be a little bit spoiled, but Law tries to even it out amongst the three, that pirate captain side of him coming out as he tries to make sure they're all even. On nights when the five of you settle in your living room, Law still can't believe how lucky and blessed he is to have such a loving family again.

~~

Penguin has two daughters within four years of each other! Girl dad all the way, until the third child comes along and it's a boy, a total surprise, he'd fully expect another little girl. He finds it even more fun to have all three of them, the girls are protective of their baby brother, it almost reminds him of he and Shachi with Law when they were still teens. It's even more apparent how your children parallel that relationship, when your youngest daughter, at six years old, brings your two year old son to you when he's crying from a nightmare, you're both able to comfort and quell his tears. Penguin feels lucky to have all of you, and wants nothing more than for you to all be safe and happy.

~~

Sanji! Has a son AND daughter first, a cute little set of twins! He dotes on them and gives them all the attention they need. Eventually another little girl comes along, then one more boy a couple years after her. Sanji loves them all, but his girls do get just a tad more attention at times, especially once they realize that giving him puppy dog eyes net them whatever they want. Your youngest son attaches to him like glue, wanting to be with Sanji all the time, and he can see the similarities in how alike the two are, minus the abuse of course, and it makes him want to protect your youngest son from the world at times. 

~~

Zoro has a son, one that isn't planned at all. He hadn't even expected to have kids until this little baby boy that looks just like him comes along. After that, he expects that to be it. No more kids, just the one, just your son, until not even three years later you're pregnant again, with a little girl that's just as unplanned. Everyone is shocked, but when she's born, Zoro is instantly wrapped around her tiny finger and she's spoiled rotten by him. Your kids are both loved beyond belief though, both learning how to use a sword as soon as they're big enough to do so. Zoro is the one to convince you to have one more when your daughter is about five, and its a set of twin boys that make you swear off more kids in the end. They also start learning to use the sword one day, your third child falling into the three sword style that just inflates Zoro's pride even more. And yes, his daughter would be named Kuina.

~~

Note 2: I would absolutely marry Zoro and have his babies in a heartbeat. I'm sorry Penguin, I still love you.

Note 3: If you saw this briefly yesterday, no you didn't shut up 😆

#one piece x reader #reader insert #roranoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace x reader #sanji x reader #penguin x reader #op penguin x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #op men as dads

[sunflowersteves]

family video || e.m.

pairing || eddie munson x fem!reader

summary || robin and steve were able to snag eddie munson a job at Family Video and it just so happens that the person of his dreams would be a regular customer.

author’s notes || i refuse to believe vol 2 just happened so here’s a fluffy fic where eddie is most certainly alive

warnings || season 4 vol 2 spoilers, fluff

masterlist

“Does it always feel this weird?”

Robin tapped her finger on the table, bored out of her mind. “Does what feel weird?”

Eddie shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe the fact that we saved the world a week ago from a monster-psychopath that tried to open four portals to another dimension in the middle of Hawkins and everything is just…Normal?”

Steve grunted while continuing to shelve the movies onto the small cases, “after the four times you save the world,” he sighed, “you get used to it.” 

Eddie could only groan, feeling like he was slightly going insane. After the entire town was out to get him for being a ‘freak’ and accusing him of starting a cult for Chrissy’s murder, he’s not sure he could move on. 

The government tried its best at covering everything up, immediately giving Eddie an alibi and insisting he was innocent. The Goverment also made sure that Chrissy’s death had been a closed case, giving some excuse about drugs and her abusive mom being the culprit. Jason was then put under investigation as a suspect for her murder, just so the accusations could be muddled easier. After a couple of weeks of investigating, Jason was arrested for attacking Lucas and Erica.

Eddie would still sometimes get looks from neighbors and people in Hawkins, but for the most part, he was left alone. No one really wanted to confront him after everything that had happened. 

Robin and Steve luckily were able to beg Keith for Eddie to get a job. They had to practically be on their hands and knees. Eddie was grateful, though. It was a distraction where he could fuck around with his friends and not worry about his problems.

“Great, love to see it.” Robin just snickered at Eddie before immediately receiving a glare.

"How are you so unaffected by this?" Eddie started to fiddle with his rings.

Robin shrugged, "What, Eddie, you want credit or something?" Before he could make a snarky comment back, their conversation cut off by the sound of the ringing bell on top of the door. 

“Welcome to Family Video—” Eddie’s breath left his lungs when he looked up from the computer. Oh, wow, oh shit—

You stood there with a genuine smile on your face, elbows leaning on the counter, while looking at the metalhead in front of you. You were talking to him, and he, for sure, had no idea what the fuck you were saying. 

He just had the wind knocked out of him, and all he wanted to do was stare at your perfect—beautiful—lovely face. The curve of your nose, the way your tongue clicked against your teeth, your eyes staring right back at his—yeah, he was totally fucked. 

“Hey, dingus, she asked you a question.” Robin had her eyebrow raised at the metalhead in front of him. He snapped out of his daze, brown doe eyes wide as he tried to recall what you had said. 

“I–Um–” Robin couldn’t help but have an amusing look on her face. The Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson was nervous? He was normally the utmost confident one by shouting and yelling about everything and anything. But here he was, completely and utterly speechless. 

“I was just wondering if you had a copy of Teen Wolf. Sorry, I just couldn’t find it on the shelves when I came yesterday.”

He swallowed. “Yeah, I–um–can show you.” He led the way towards the back of the video store and picked out the exact copy for you. He couldn’t help but feel hot—sweaty and sticky. Was it hot in here? Did Steve forget to turn on the AC?

“Here.” He handed you the copy, but not before your fingers brushed against each other. He could feel his own heart pounding against his ears. You were soft—so so soft. The tingling sensation never left while you smiled brightly at him.

God, you were just so beautiful. He hoped you would come to see him every single day of his entire life. 

“See you around, Munson.”

He deadpanned. You knew his name?

~~

The next time that you came back to the video store was three days from when he had first met. And you bet, Eddie definitely counted each passing minute that you didn’t return the VHS. But he knew that you had to. You just did.

It was another very boring day with Steve and Robin, not much traffic since the weekend was over. He was currently sketching in his book and trying very hard to come up with a new story for the campaign on Friday. 

He heard the bell to the door ring but didn’t bother to look up. He figured that if they needed anything, they would ask him or Robin for help. He was still sketching, his pencil making light marks on the sheets of paper.

“What are you up to, Munson?” 

His heart immediately burst. You. You were here. You were standing right in front of him with a slight teasing gleam in your eyes. Your head was cocked slightly to the side, and your smile was so completely infectious. 

“Oh, it’s just– it’s just for my club that’s this Friday.” 

You blinked, eyelashes falling perfectly onto your face. “Hellfire club? Aren’t you the president?”

Oh. Oh. You knew of the hellfire club? He knew that you weren’t a part of the popular crowd, but he didn’t realize you were into nerdy stuff either.

He was floored, absolutely floored. “You know of my club?” 

You propped your elbows up onto the counter, trying to get a better look at his sketching. “Yeah, my little brother loves D&D, so I’ve played it quite a few times.”

He licks his lips, eyes darting slightly nervously.  “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He sees that you still had Teen Wolf in your hands, and it was leaning against the side of your hip. Right, yeah, work. He has stupid work to do. 

“Here, I can check that back in if you want.” He reaches for the movie, and your eyes widen slightly. Oh, yeah. The movie that you had rented. To be honest, you had forgotten about it. 

You hand it back to him and watch as his eyes scan for your name on the computer. He then types a little on the computer, which you definitely took advantage of by looking at his hands. And oh, wow, his hands. They weren’t perfectly manicured or anything, but the rings that adorned his fingers definitely sprouted butterflies in your stomach.

He turned to you, smiling, “there. you’re all set.” You give him one right back and almost turn to leave. 

“Hey, what if you came to our club?” He leaned just a bit closer towards you.

“What?”

“This Friday at 6:30. Our club meets in Ms. Hank's classroom.” 

You look down at the fake wooden table for just a second as if you’re contemplating. In reality, you were trying to hide that bubbling feeling inside you as he stared at you with such intensity. 

“I might just take you up on that offer.” Before he could even react, you gave a quick kiss on his cheek. His mouth popped open in surprise, he could hear Robin and Steve gasp in the background.

But you had that cheeky smile on your face. Your eyes sparkled once more as you stared at his startled face. You let out a consent sigh before turning around and leaving the store. All he could do was beam. 

“See you around, Munson.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #fix it fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 2 spoilers #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader

[seekingflowers]

Future Husband Pick a Card (1-3)

I'm sure you all know how it works! Just relax and let your intuition guide you to choose your pile 🌕. Take what resonates and leave the rest. I am very honest and will not sugar coat what I see. Please don't hesitate to tell me what resonated with you! I welcome all to interact 🤝

Hello everyone! Welcome to my tarot blog. This is my first post ever, and a pick a card reading (1, 2, 3- cards) 🥰😍🥀

Pile 1:

Page of Wands

- First and foremost, it COULD indicate he's younger- if not, he may seem younger with his demeanor. More than likely, he may have approached you first. He'll be the first you one hear when you walk into a room.

In the beginning stages, this person will feel like a breath of fresh air. They are lively and outgoing. Always inviting you to join them on outings with friends or see and experience new places.

They are very social and ready to be on the go-go go. If you're not, it doesn't matter. They'll go because they're ready. Decisive and quick. However, it may not always be thought out. This person tends to be optimistic and may seem naive, but do not berate them. Sharp and witty, they stand their ground. They do not like to be held back and smothered. They seek fun and spontaneity, keep them on their toes. At times, you may feel like this man flakes out on you because he is so quick to do other things or entertain himself with others. He may forget things easily, such as planned dates or activities, anniversaries, or make sudden changes.

Their curiosity and openess will show you how to appreciate the moment and accept changes. It's okay to experience new things. If something is wrong, they will confront you, and they will expect the same from you. Be open and honest, and communicate with patience. They're not afraid to voice their opinion and say it how they see it. Friends and family love and adore their presence, which brings warmth and laughs all around.

Please remember, we all change with time, and some things may remain, but nothing lasts forever. Take what resonates and leave the rest.

Pile 2:

King of Wands Reversed.

- He's definitely the one to approach you. Could be someone older or someone in an authority position.

This man may appear aggressive, often displaying signs of frustration or impatience. Can be very controlling and dominant overall. He has natural charisma and a fiery intellect, making it difficult to get a word in with him. Stubborn and hot-headed, he will likely dislike opposing views or opinions. People's views of him are black and white. Few understand him. There could be a problem with respecting those above him or taking consideration from others in general. There are few to maybe none that he cares for, but if he does care, he is fiercely protective over them and will come to their side to defend them. Even blindly.

About action, he's the one to get it done and have a go get it now attitude. Either do it or don't. Prone to impulsiveness and hypocrisy, his actions may bring upon consequences he isn't ready to handle and will break down in a tantrum.

Not afraid to approach others, he is relentless with his pursuits. On the good days, his humor and smiles are a sight to see and hear. Captivating and charming, people are drawn to him or are intimidated by him. His humor isn't everyone's cup of tea. It may be crude.

Highly competitive, spats between him and others are frequent. He hates losing and hates being wrong.

To be with this man, thick skin is needed along with groundedness. With you, he can be very loving, but ill tempered and stubborn.

He's very likely a traditional man who wants a traditional wife and family with him as head of the household. Although earlier in life, he may have had a desire of the opposite for the short term.

Please note that the future is not set in stone. Take what resonates and leave the rest.

Pile 3:

Ace of Cups

- This man off the bat is an emotionally intuitive man. More likely to be reserved with his words, but expressive with his love and affections. Expressive eyes with intent prying into your soul. He enjoys private moments with you and goes out of his way to get you alone. It may seem unintentional, but it's not. It may be a love at first sight, or rather, when they fall in love- they fall hard.

There could be this feeling of a deep connection between the two of you that feels familiar yet so foreign. However, do not drown with the feeling. Learn to swim with it, or it will create false imaginations of the other person. You open up this person's inner world, and they want to pour into your cup endlessly. Sometimes, feelings can become intense, and a struggle to sort through emotions with each other can be difficult. Therefore, there can be spurts of emotional outbursts. Clear communication is very important with this man.

Being one to love deeply, he can hold a grudge and keep score of what wrong he thinks you've done to him. He might think he loves you more than you love him. This man wants you to be open with your love and reciprocate his feelings with the same intensity. When you are in an emotional frenzy from work or a bad day, he's the one to comfort and feel you. He'd go out of his way to make you feel better. If he can't, he will beat himself up for it. People close to him are few, even if it seems like there is a whole crowd around him. He's the go-to therapist or listener for folks, and it may get to him from time to time, so please allow him some space when needed.

Some days, he may seem hot and cold, but that's just likely because he isn't feeling anything that particular day or hour. Or he is in his head thinking about anything. As all humans do.

Love each other truly and not just love itself. It is easy to get lost in love and forget the person. Take what resonates and leave the rest.

Please remember, take what resonates, and leave the rest. One card does not describe everything about a person, and it is not the end all be all. Nothing is set in stone. People change - we all change.

Once again, please let me know what resonates and tell me what'd you like to see from me. 💫

#psychic #tarot cards #tarotblr #pac reading #love tarot reading #tarot reading #divination #tarot blog #seekingflowers #tarotcommunity #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #love reading #future husband

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Stalker Malleus Headcanons:

Malleus is THE stalker of all stalkers

Now of course, his obsession with you came from the want to be friends with you.

The as he stalked you for longer periods and noticed the cute little things you do, he felt a one sided closeness to you

That platonic want for you then turned into romantic feelings.

That’s when when he starts to steal things from your dorm and take pictures of you in secret

He knows your schedule

He knows where you live

He knows what floor you live on in Ramshackle

He knows your preferences

He knows your friend group

He knows everything that is to be known about you

You only start to notice someone might be stalking you when you see the figure of a young man standing out in Ramshackle’s garden

The next day, things start to get escalate

The roof and gargoyles on Ramshackle are cleaned

There’s footprints on the dust on the floor leading to your room

And that loud green haired first year keeps trying to gain your attention.

Sebek keeps trying to drag you to Diasomnia to meet his master but you could care less.

There’s a weirdo coming in and out of Ramshackle and they know where you sleep.

You go to Sam for an amulet of protection, and hang it up on the front door.

When Malleus comes to Ramshackle, like he does every night, he notices the amulet and takes it. You don’t need this silly thing. He’s here to protect you. No one would mess with the darling of one of the greatest mages in the world. But, you’re obviously telling him you like jewelry, so he’ll grant your desire.

He sees your bedroom window and looks at your sleeping form. You look so cute like that. All snuggly and warm. But now’s not the time for adoration.

Malleus teleports inside and leaves the amulet on your nightstand with a Draconia family insignia stamped letter. He kisses your head, and you stir in your sleep.

He teleports outside your window, and just as he’s floating away, you wake up and see him. That young man isn’t a figure anymore, he’s a person. A person with glowing green eyes and horns(?).

You see the amulet on your nightstand and your eyes widen with fear. You shakily open the letter, not paying attention to the insignia and read the most terrifying sentences in your life.

There’s no need for such mear amulets for protection when you have me around. But since you like jewelry so much, may I inquire what type you like? - M

You grab grim, your backpack, essentials, and book it.

You travel to Heartslabyul where you sneak inside, and knock on Ace and Deuce’s door.

You explain everything to them.

❤️“No way, who could be stalking you?”

♠️“I’ll make sure they get a good beating!”

You ask if they would let you stay the night, and of course they said yes.

Now, one night became seven nights, and Malleus is getting cranky.

Why are you changing schedule? Why are you avoiding Ramshackle? Is someone bothering you?

Malleus takes action into his own hands and asks Sebek to once again get information out of you by being your friend.

Sebek takes his orders seriously and soon enough he’s offering to let his master, the great Malleus, protect you from this creep.

You cry into his arms and thank him.

By next week, you’re heading to Diasomnia to see Malleus, your supposed new protector.

When you arrive at Diasomnia, you’re greeted by Sebek, Malleus, Sebek’s friend Silver, and some short guy named Lilia.

Malleus bends down to kiss your hand, and you’re blushing.

Malleus is sweet and welcoming. He shares your common interests, and even knows how to take care of Grim.

But the protection he gives you is worth even more. You can finally be free of that creep following you.

Just as you’re leaving Diasomnia, you hear Lilia and Silver arguing. You know you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t resist when Lilia said “it’s my fault he’s like this.”

You press your ear against the door and hear the rest of the conversation.

🗡️ “It’s not your fault, father! Malleus is misguided by his emotions and extreme obsession for 🦐.”

🦇 “It is my fault. When I found out Malleus liked the Ramshackle prefect, I said to find out what she likes and what her hobbies are. I should’ve been more clearer, now we’re in this mess. The least we could do is warn the Ramshackle prefect.”

🗡️ “Agreed.”

As they open the door, you’re hiding behind a wall. It all makes sense now. Of course malleus was stalking you. Who else could float to a second story window? Who else would clean the gargoyles on Ramshackle? M is Malleus.

You run down the hall and push open a big black door that you think is the exit. Instead you’ve entered the dragon’s nest.

Pictures of you are hanging on the wall

Old clothes that haven’t been washed are crumbled next to Malleus’s pillow.

There’s a couple of hair strands on some sort of doll in the corner.

But the final straw was a necklace, similar to the amulet, but green on Malleus’s nightstand.

You turn to leave but run into the green dragon devil himself.

You fall to the floor, and Malleus’s tall stature makes him seem like a giant while you’re on the ground.

🐉“So now that you’ve found out I’m your secret admirer, I should probably do something with you.”

You walk out of Diasomnia with the necklace on you and a stalker for a boyfriend.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #malleus draconia #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus x yuu #stalker malleus #yandere twst #Yandere twst headcanons #it sort of became a one shot towards the middle #twst sebek #yandere x reader

[dweeb-central]

yuu cooked too much ft. heartlabyul, floyd, malleus, & ruggie

guys i entered a fugue state & wrote angst?? hcs

mc is used to cooking for a big family & accidentally mistakes recipe proportions, leaving them w way too much food. scenarios of them asking diff twst boys if they'd want some, mentioning why. a bit downtrodden with no family to share it with...

trey, cater, riddle... are touched. trey & cater both have big families, & their eyes soften at the mention of yours. trey especially empathizes with you, before he began cooking and baking for the majority of his dorm he cooked & baked for his family. he identifies with the habits of buying groceries in bulk & the need to keep the house stocked with anything five or more people could ever need (just in case). cater's interested to see what kinds of foods you'll cook. make him something from your heritage! he'll magicam it <3 or just save the memory in a photograph if you'd prefer. he'd love to listen to you talk about recipes & regional preferences & tastes. that goes for riddle too! his mom kept him on a strict diet for his childhood, but now that he's got the opportunity he'd love to learn about your heritage & culture! as he grows more outgoing he's learned more about the cultures of his peers & he'd probably be one of the most qualified (& excited) to answer any questions or point out any similarities with twisted wonderland cultures.

floyd... blinks his big wide eyes once, twice, & then launches himself towards you to wrap his arms tight & pick up straight up off the ground. "awwww, shrimpy misses their troupe! shrimpy's aaalways welcome to bring me dinner! we can play house!! i'll be the dad, you'll be the mom, azul will be our baby, and jade... he can be the dog and go play outside or something." ('- , -) you better stop him before he gets ahead of himself. least likely of octavinelle to bother you about selling the recipe to azul ((he'll give you a cut of the profits!)). still makes you cook in the mostro lounge kitchen, but only because he wants you to grow to feel more at home with him & in an environment he's used to... that way when he gets serious about his & shrimpy's relationship....

the adeuce duo... both go... quiet, at the mention of your past. it wasn't something you avoided talking about when you were reminded of something relevant, or things you enjoyed or saw, but... you don't talk much about your family. they don't ask much about your family. deuce feels a twinge of guilt—he doesn't shy away from talking about his mom, & he loves her too dearly to be ashamed or shy. he wonders if they make you feel as loved as his does. ace wonders if he should ask you about them more often. he's not exactly shy about his own family, but he doesn't exactly ever seek to bring them up in idle conversation. he wonders what your siblings are like. they give each other a resolved look above your head when you're not looking, & now they regularly (as much as they can) come over for dinners at ramshackle! if you're comfortable with it, they invite all the first years too. you hope they feel as familiar & familial to you as you feel for them. they hope you know they do.

malleus... feels a twinge in the back of his throat—maybe behind his eyes? his truest friend feels alone, something he recognizes deeply. he hasn't lost anyone close to him like that—at least, he doesn't feel like it. his lonely was a different sort, where he's never really known family like you have. but, he considers, maybe no one at this school has had to sacrifice more than his prefect. he wonders what dinners were like with that many, & you tell him. the bickering, the debates, the movie nights & commentaries, the nights spent making s'mores(?) over the fireplace. he wants dinners like that with you. you invite him to.

ruggie... might invite you to spend some time over with his family. not immediately, no way, but the thought lingered in his head long enough for his throat to burn with the words (& his cheeks to burn in embarassment). in reality, he grins a big wide grin & laughs his mischeivous little laugh. "i'll NEVER say no to free food. feel free to keep it coming! shehehe." he ends up coming over to help you cook a few times a month. it's a good excuse to spend time with you over a dinner he knows was cooked with love.

i had to google what a group of shrimp is called lol. could've actually been troupe OR run OR colony. i wonder if it's ooc that floyd knows this.... i mean, he is a fish man, so 🤷

#dweeb speaks #twisted wonderland #twst #yuu / mc / reader / prefect #heartslaybul x reader #riddle rosehearts x yuu #trey clover x yuu #cater diamond x yuu #floyd leech x yuu #ace trappola x yuu #deuce spade x yuu #adeuce #malleus draconia x yuu #ruggie bucchi x yuu #x reader #obligatory once a year post

[pigdemonart]

Battle Subway Depot Agents (by pig-demon)

When I made designs for these guys last year I didn’t really think they needed colored references/master post, but since then I’ve drawn them a lot! Also people have added them to their fanfics and drawn fanart! So I figured it was time I made a post for easy ref. :]

These designs are obviously free to use, just give credit (and link me your work if you're comfortable, because it makes me happy to see!) All I request is to stay respectful to their pronouns and skin colors, ya knooow… 👍 note: The pokemon on their cards are all companions, not the ones they use on the Battle Subway. Except Jackie...the litwicks are just there to fill space/give them company.

More info under cut:

Edit: Important disclaimer:

These are again my designs/interpretations for the agents. Please don’t treat them as canon or as the only, quintessential designs for these literal background npcs. Many people have done takes on them before and after me, even back in 2010. It feels silly to ask, but due to past experience, I ask that you please DONT hunt down anyone that does a different take on the depot agents!! 👍

Tags:

I'm gonna start tagging them individually, but for now all Depot Agent comics and art on this blog are tagged under Depot Agents.

Height chart:

I’m not too strict about heights, so I don’t really care about actual measurements. Here’s an approximation of what I tend to visualize though:

Sexualities/Gender Identities: I don't have official labels for each and every agent because I like keeping things fluid for characters to develop these traits on their own. However, as a queer person, I enjoy designing characters who are also queer, therefore I can safely say none of these characters are straight. The ones who are set in stone are Ramses (gay man), Cloud (lesbian woman,) Jackie (non-binary.) Furze uses he/they pronouns but their gender is undetermined. I also welcome anyone giving the agents a different gender identity to suit them (as long as it's done respectfully.)

Notes about each agent...

Cameron:

- Cameron dyes parts of his hair blonde and keeps other parts in black. This is because he is a big fan of Elesa and her fashion choices.  - Though there have been a few occasions to meet his idol, he is always way too nervous to approach her, feeling deep down that he'll mess up somehow. - He practices modeling poses in secret. He loves flourishes and flare, but is simply too insecure to put it on display. - Of his coworkers, he gets along the best with Furze. He's the easiest to talk to because Furze will do most of the talking. - Cameron is easily intimidated — even mean Pokémon can make him nervous. Though, his two worst fears are being left in a room alone with Jackie, and being left alone in a room with Isadore. - He takes advantage of his height to sometimes hide behind some of his coworkers. - Cameron is much better at Pokémon battles than he gives himself credit for. Emmet and Ingo were pleasantly surprised by this, since Cameron was promoted to fit a temporary role on the Battle Subway. They happily made him a permanent member when he proved himself capable. - His Dwebble (Pebby) is secretly very strong, and rushes to protect Cameron when it can. Cam sometimes thinks Pebby helps him feel more confident in himself too.  - If he stumbled into any of his coworkers outside of work, he would simply explode of embarrassment. - He is the youngest child and only son of his family. He lives in his own apartment in Nimbasa.

Cloud:

- Cloud (like Ramses) knew the twins when they were very young. - She used to be an ace trainer in her youth, even going so far to compete in the Pokémon league. Winning and becoming the champ was the most important part of her journey, but something happened along the way that changed that outlook. - It seems with age, her competitiveness has mellowed out. However, she maintains an intense energy when battling.  - Her favorite types are Psychic and Flying types. Swoobat (Sweetie) is her ace.  - Her favorite hobby is baking, and she often bakes sweets for the crew. She knows all their favorite flavors by now! - She prioritizes keeping a friendly relationship with all her coworkers and thinks of them fondly. She considers Ramses family after all the years of working together!  - She is a big fan of Brycen's movies and can recite the lines. - She lives with her wife in Anville. - Cloud loves doing maintenance work both at home and in Gear Station. She enjoys bringing her own tools and industrial flashlight.

Furze:

- Furze only has one volume setting (mid loud,) but he finds himself feeling right at home when talking to either one of the twins. - Furze has ADHD, and this is reflected in some of his habits, most visibly is his fidgeting when sitting still for too long. - He rides a bike to work every day. When he is late, Cloud clocks in for him so he doesn't get in trouble. - This is a kind of a guy that sits crouched gargoyle style on chairs. Only outside of work, of course. Bad posture could get him in trouble. - While working on the Battle Subway, there will be times Furze feels sorry for his opponents and offers to quietly let them pass anyways. This...has also gotten him in trouble. :[ - He went to the same elementary school as Isadore in Castelia. Though Isadore seems to have forgotten their short-lived acquaintance, Furze has not. This is part of the reason Furze claims they are in fact good friends!!! - Furze is the middle child of a big family. He lives with his mom and takes care of her, along with his many Darumakas and Darmanitan. All of his Pokemon have famous trains names. - He collects model trains. Naturally.

Isadore

- Isadore had plans to become the station master the moment he was hired as a depot agent, but alas... (sad trumpet sound.) - As a youth, he was more interested in science and engineering over Pokemon battles. He enjoys the strategizing aspect, at most. Not so much the competitiveness. - In addition, his Pokemon are all rescues and not used for battling. He's had his Watchog (Winston) since he was in his late teens. - His Electrode (Gregor) and Voltorb (Leonard) were rescued from the likes of Team Plasma. - Isadore admits he understands Pokemon better than humans. This has been apparent his whole life. - In spite of acting like a sitcom villain, Isadore cares about the management of Gear Station and the safety of the passengers to an incredible degree. He sees it as a personal life goal to assist in the management of Gear Station, as well as the success of the Battle Subway. - Though it pained him to become a subordinate to the twins, he begrudgingly accepts it for the greater good. - His almost militant efficiency certainly made up for his years of antagonizing the twins before they became the bosses. Ingo and Emmet understand this better than anyone. - Isadore keeps tabs on all of the staff members. So he very well knows all their birthdays and makes it a point to celebrate it. This is by no means a -happy- or -festive- event. It's just customary. - Like Furze, he was originally from Castelia, but now resides in Nimbasa. Isadore's only family is his mom and she lives in his childhood home with their Stoutland. - Isadore would have probably been voiced by every glasses guy ever J. Michael Tatum had he not already been cast as dear Emmet lmao

Jackie

- Jackie is a mystery and they like keeping it that way. When they talk, it's practically impossible to determine what is a lie or truth, especially if the subject is themselves or their background. - They love scaring Cameron the most and will ask to be paired with him whenever possible. They claim Cameron is their "favorite coworker," while Isadore is the least favorite. - It's plain to see why -- Jackie is the only one that doesn't passively tolerate Isadore's tirades. - Though my comics sometimes may allude to Jackie being a ghost/supernatural, this is not confirmed nor canon. I just personally enjoy toying with the concept. : ) That being said...

- Item #: SCP 7453

- Object Class: Euclid

- Special Containment Procedures: The ████ ██████ is ██████ within ████-██████. - Ingo and Emmet choose to not question anything about Jackie, since it's clear they're one of the more efficient workers. However it can be a safety concern... - Cloud and Ramses have worked with Jackie for a long time, though they've forgotten somehow. They believe Jackie is a new hire since they appear to be young. - Anyone trying to make sense of Jackie's employee records simply can't bring themselves to any conclusions. It's better to ignore the inconsistencies. - Jackie has never been seen to leave Gear Station. Jackie has never been seen in anything but their uniform. Jackie has never been confirmed to eat, drink or blink. Jackie knows your secrets. Jackie thinks it's... amusing.

Ramses

- Ramses sometimes misses having a full head of hair, but he thinks his signs of age make him look distinguished. (he is correct.) - Ramses is sort of the "mom friend," making sure everyone's concerns are heard, as well as trying to keep the peace whenever a conflict might arise. - If another coworker is feeling low, Ramses will try to cheer them up with a lighthearted joke or offer advice if they'd like it. - When the twins were promoted to bosses of the Battle Subway, Ramses cried because he felt so proud. - In most circumstances, he is a very simple and logical man. He is quick to find solutions and tries not to fret over the little stuff. It's not good for his heart after all. - His ace is his Pikachu (Musa,) though the mouse is more of a lap pet now. At home, he also has an Audino (Sara) and a Manectric (Nubi) who keep Ramses' husband company. His Klinklang (Moli) is the only one of his personal pokemon that accompany him to work nowadays. - Ramses considers Cloud family. They are best friends and love having family gatherings outside of work. They also gossip a lot, and don't mind when Jackie decides to join. - Ramses jokes about looking forward to retirement, but really doesn't want to leave until he is physically incapable of working anymore. Gear Station is like a second home to him.

In-Game Quotes

The most important reference of all are their in-game quotes, of course, so I'm adding it to the post. A lot of their personality traits can be extracted and interpreted from these few lines. And I personally love that about Pokemon NPCs -- there's a lot of room to explore and play with. Some appear very obvious. Cameron practically announces that he isn't ready for the battle that's about to ensue and seems genuinely surprised to win. Furze comes out the gate talking about the subject they actually care about, which is their job and their love for trains. The two of them are very easy to understand. Now, Ramses lines allude to a gentle and simple personality. He views himself with humility, and maybe even with a bit of humor comparing himself to a train and to his opponent to a station. If he loses he shows no signs of disappointment, he just accepts defeat with one last honest quip. It s also amusing to see the Depot Agents all use train metaphors to describe themselves since it falls in line with how Ingo and Emmet talk.

In comparison, Cloud does the same thing calling herself the terminal instead. Immediately, she is way more daring, though still keeping a sense of professionalism. To me, it's obvious she is competitive as she even admits she was expecting to win ("Ah...I didn't see it coming.") Jackie's lines are fun since it's up to interpretation if they are being literal or lying. It's almost like they are more interested in confusing/creeping out their opponent than actually beating them. To me, it gives off a mischievous vibe. Isadore's opener "There are only two roads in life." is a curious one because it almost feels like he is trying to be philosophical. Definitely a guy who views himself as an intellectual, regardless if that’s true or not. I like to think it's a saying he really believes in, and it applies to his life. The road he likes (long route) vs the road he hates (shortcut) -- fighting tooth and nail to become boss vs biting his tongue and accepting Ingo and Emmet as the Subway Masters.

Those are just my thoughts on how I write these characters. Please have fun playing with these lines too!

#depot agents #depot agents master post #my art #submas #submas adjacent ahaha #will probably edit as time goes on but who knows really #if you spot any typos no you dont kiss kiss #cameron #cloud #furze #isadore #jackie #ramses

[glitchtricks94]

TWST Guys Bringing You Home!: Heartslabyul Edition

Welcome to part one, I'm planning on writing all the dorms + Idia. Ortho will just be included with him, personally, since Ortho is too adorable to ever defile in any manner outside of being a cute little brother. Headcannons, headcannons, headcannons! Let's start this off with some cottoncandy fluff, shall we? Not gonna lie, I felt like a mom gushing about all her chaos children over tea writing this. I hope you enjoy these headcannons, and let me know your thoughts. I love interaction and would love to hold a conversation with you guys. Anyways, sit back, relax and have fun. -Glitchtricks Word count: 4k

Ace Trappola

Oh, this is such a delight to see. Little Ace is in love! Ace is super awkward and very defensive, and yet somehow little ol' you broke down all those walls of arrogance and faux confidence, such a special darling you are. So, how would he be if he decided to bring you home to meet his family?

Two words: Nervous. Wreck. Ace is a disaster before bringing you home to meet his brother and father; he's sweating, internally screaming, his anxiety is spiked, and you have to handle everything with your usual grace. Ace has some bad anxiety, which he confided that he coped with it by being all snarky with everyone, i.e. being a dick way too often. You didn't mind though, but you did gently encourage him to come to you if he felt too overwhelmed by everything, just in case he needed to vent. How sweet! There was a lot of texting back and forth, nights cuddling on your near dinosaur era furnishings of Ramshackle, and plenty of kisses on his temples, Ace had calmed down enough to not feel like an anchor was being dropped on his chest at the thought of bringing you home. He was ready to announce you as his to his family!

Oh dear, sweet Seven, he couldn't have predicted any of what happened... First, his brother decided to do the worst thing ever and brought up Ace's old view on dating and how his first girlfriend got ghosted. Ace wanted to die then and there, even being collared by Riddle was more tolerable than this hell... "Hey, (Y/N), you know my baby bro here had a gal before you, right?" "Oh? He did?" You said, your pretty eyes widening. "He's never mentioned her before..." "Dude, please, don't...!" Ace quietly pleaded, humiliation seeping in like a cold rain. "Yeah, he went out a few times with this one girl in middle school. She'd always go to amusement parks with him and stuff, topping it off with a Ferris wheel, but he ghosted her." Ace's brother continued, sipping on his tea. "And why's that?" You prodded, sipping your own tea as you shot a small glare at your boyfriend. You shared stories of your exes, but why didn't he? Did he not trust you? You didn't know whether you should feel hurt, or pissed. You chose to feel pissed. "Got bored, 'cording to him, she was just bland beyond her coffee tastes and liked a lot of stuff that just didn't click with him. She was pretty, but had as much depth as a piece of paper." The elder Trappola explained. "Her friends called him out for his shit, and he swore off dating, too much of a hassle in his opinion, so I'm surprised he decided to go out with you, much less bring you home." "I see." You hummed. Ace knew he was in the dog house and was now preparing to ask Sam if he sold flowers and romance stuff to try and make it up to you when you both got back to Night Raven.

Well, at least pop likes you! Can't wait to have you as an in-law! During dinner, Ace's dad smiled and chatted all about his boys, saying how proud he was of Ace for bringing home such a sweetheart like you! You ended up forgetting the upsetting conversation from earlier given how jovial Mr. Trappola was, he was like that one cool uncle that was trusted with looking after the baby, or that one cool barbeque dad your friends might have. Card tricks were shared, food was eaten and conversation was exchanged, if at a little of your boyfriend's expense. Funny stories were shared, like that one time he accidentally hit his brother in the groin with a bat as a kid when he came home for the holidays, or that time Ace got pranked by his dad with a classic; pouring soap on his head while he was rinsing out his own lather. "My hair was never as silky as it was after that." Ace laughed, starting to loosen up as he threw his arm around your shoulder. You leaned over and pecked his cheek, making both your faces bloom red as you both grinned happily. Overall, you're basically already known as the best in-law ever even before Ace put a ring on it. He's already planning how to ask a few years down the line, though~!

Deuce Spade

Another cute boy, who's mildly awkward when in love. Oh, how sweet! He took a lot of time learning how to properly approach you. didn't he? Deuce is beaming with pride having you on his arm, smiling that cute little boy smile he shows off when he's excited. He loves holding your hand in his as you stroll about the rose gardens of Heartslabyul. You knew he was close to his mom, having ditched his old delinquent days after hearing her crying on the phone to his grandmother, and he often talked about you to her, sometimes while you were sitting right there! Oh, how your cheeks reddened hearing him spout compliments about you to his mother. Both you and Deuce were arranging to meet his mom and grandma, in fact Deuce wanted to introduce you as soon as possible! You're one of the most important people in his life, so he wanted to share you with his familial circle asap. So, how does this all go?

Oh, honey, grandma practically fell in love with you on first sight. You met Deuce's grandma and mom at the same time, the two sitting at the dining room table in Ms. Spade's home, sipping away on their tea. It was a little awkward with Ms. Spade, but granny practically pounced on you when Deuce said you were his significant other. She was just smiling up at you, going on about how much of a cutie you were the whole while. It was quite nice, talking over tea, Deuce smiling happily as he had an arm respectfully wrapped around your waist. Needless to say, mom relaxed a bit seeing how her mother was reacting alongside her baby boy.

Deuce didn't know why he didn't expect the baby pictures to be brought out... Baby books, baby books and more baby books. You were surprised by the sheer amount that Deuce's mother loved to do scrapbooking, it was like there was a mountain of baby books from when your sweet card soldier was growing up! There had to be about six books sitting on the coffee table. Everyone had gathered into the living room after tea, Ms. Spade excitedly flitting about the place like a child on sugar, gathering all these books to stack, Deuce slowly turning red seeing his old baby books being yanked out again. You sat next to Deuce, holding his hand with your fingers interlaced. "Here's when Deuce was two, he always played with his food, he was such a messy baby!" Ms. Spade gushed, showing off a picture of baby Deuce smiling up at the camera; baby food was smeared all over his smiling face, his hands caked in the stuff and the bowl on his little head, his pretty jade colored orbs shimmering with joy. "His little smile is infectious!" You chirped, smiling warmly at the picture of your darling boyfriend. Deuce buried his head in your hair, hiding from his embarrassment.

Deuce felt like melting into your embrace at this point. You made his night. After a fun dinner filled with embarrassing stories from when Deuce was young, warm hearty laughter and sweet gazes exchanged with your boyfriend, the two of you settled into bed, you sneaking out of the guest room grandma insisted you stay in to steal some kisses and snuggles. You settled into Deuce's arms as he kissed your rosy cheeks, tangling your legs with his under the covers. Looking into his eyes, you've never seen him look so happy since he got an 86 on his history exam. "I love you so much, baby." Deuce whispered sweetly, your heart fluttering in your chest. "I love you too, honey." You replied, your own voice laced with the sugar of your love for the jade eyed boy. "I wanna say thanks for coming with me to meet my mom and grandmother, it meant a lot to me." "Deucey, it's no trouble!" You chirped softly, smiling up at your lover. "I'm just happy they like me." "They love you, you fit perfectly into the family!" Deuce laughed, his shoulders shaking. "It's honestly a relief that you get along, I was scared things would go wrong. But, I guess I panicked for nothing." The navy haired first year continued, turning to gaze at you with so, so much love. "You're perfect after all." Deuce was gonna be the death of you, he was always so sweet. You could mark this day as a sweet, sweet success: Your boyfriend was happy, grandma loves you, mom thinks you're perfect for her son, and everything felt like utter bliss. So, without saying another word, you sealed your night with Deuce with a kiss...~

Cater Diamond

Cater being in love honestly isn't surprising; being in love is such brand booster! Cute Magicam couples? Yes please! Being real though, Cater's honestly a major handful for you, because under that cheery "Caycay is gonna slayslay" vibe that the 3rd year carries, he's honestly a complete wreck and is terrified that you'll get tired of his anticks. Shocking how he and Azul aren't besties in that regard. However, he had no need to fear! The marvelous S/O was here to save the day: Cuddles, kisses, spicy ramen and at home spa treatments were being rapid fired from your heart to claim Cater's love and destroy his anxiety! So, with the day saved, you and your lovely boyfriend could be free to talk about a tough topic; when are you gonna meet his family? Cater ended up laughing at your question and told you to start packing your bag, he's going to talk Crowley into letting you have a weekend getaway! Even if he disliked his sisters!

Already he was regretting life... Cater's sisters immediately burst out to greet their baby brother after his mom called, and the first thing they do? Tell you that your shirt is super not cute and Cater should go buy you another one. "It's what a good boyfriend would do!" The eldest sister said, folding her arms over her chest. "Yeah! It's what our boyfriends did!" His other sister chimed in. Cater was here less than five seconds and already he felt like blowing a gasket... "But this is my favorite shirt. That I bought myself." You said, crossing your arms over your chest. "You don't get to tell me what to wear, so shush." "Way to stand up for yourself, honey bunny~!" Cater chirped, smiling at you as he led you inside with an arm around your waist. The ginger boy swore he fell even harder than when he first started dating you in that moment.

Cater was internally screaming at how his sisters acted and just wanted to go home. Oh, and mom didn't really like you, so there's that. The room was a bit tense as you sat and shared tea and some lightly burned pastries made by Cater's sisters. Cater himself was suffering the overly sweet baked goods and planned to just spend the after noon there. "So, how did you and my son meet?" Mrs. Diamond asked, eying you with a sharpened gaze. "Oh, I met him at Night Raven. My friend had gotten into a predicament and I ran into him while he was painting his dorm's roses!" You explained, a warm smile coming to your face as your boyfriend started to blush softly. "He was so cute and charming, still is, honestly." "Awww, babes, stop!" Cater giggled, nuzzling your cheek against his, making you laugh in turn. "I see." His mother huffed. The rest of the time was awkward to say the least.

You could tell your boyfriend could finally breathe after you left the house. Dad wasn't around that day, bit too busy with his banking job, so you didn't get to meet him; not that you really cared, Cater's sisters ruined a good chunk of the afternoon and made your poor honey work himself to the bone! Cater dropped the cheap, fake smile on his face when you both made it out of the house, his anger flaring up as he started muttering various rants under his breath. "Caycay, do you wanna get some lunch? There's a nice ramen place we could go to." You gently suggested, wanting to make your sweetheart feel better and ease his stresses. "It's that reaaally nice one you saw on Magicam the other day. The one that Vil praised" "That...That sounds wonderful honey bunny." Cater sighed, looking at you with a tired grin. Without much thought, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, making his heart flutter. So over lunch, you both came to terms that the fam might not dig on you, but that didn't matter to you or Cater. You had each other, and that's what mattered most to you two lovebirds.

Trey Clover

You have such a good man on your hands, even if he's a touch shy with his affections. When you first broached the topic of meeting his family, Trey was taken aback. He adored you to no end, and he could see a future with you, even if it'd be long distance for a few years, why hadn't he thought of showing you off to his family? "Of course I'll introduce you, darling." He said with a warm smile, leaning down to press a peck on your cheek, "How about we visit this upcoming weekend? I'm sure Riddle can hold it together long enough."

It was a really sweet reception when you showed up. Trey's parents were told about you ahead of time by their eldest, given how he's the responsible boy he is, so you were greeted by a small banner and a custom cupcake in your favorite flavors. The banner that was hung read "welcome home!" in bold, glittering rainbow letters; it tickled you pink! You felt at home already when Trey walked you up to the bakery, and the feeling intensified when his little siblings ran over, cheering over their big brother being home and asking if you were the person mom and dad talked about on the phone with Trey. Already you loved Trey's family, they were adorable in your eyes! "I hope you're ready for the insanity that's my family." Trey playfully remarked, pulling laughter from everyone around him. You hugged your boyfriend with a smile on your face. "I look forward to every minute we stay here."

Trey loved baking alongside you, but you and his family? Talk about heaven! Trey had to help out in the family business still, given his parents ran a bakery that had opened for lunch, so alongside the sweet smells of cake, the occasional smell of crisping pepperonis and melting cheese filled your senses. You found it odd at first, but your boyfriend's father swiftly explained that a demand for some more dinner and lunch friendly goods should be offered and they complied, if only a touch. You were surprised by how willing Trey's parents were when offering your help to ease the rush, helping your darling make and top some sugar cookies with oversized chocolate chips. You ended up swiping kisses from your boyfriend while his mom worked the front of house and his dad prepared the pizzas to be sent out. It seemed the more homely setting brought out the more affectionate side of your lover; small coos of adoration left his lips, tiny kisses peppered your cheeks, and skin to skin contact was through the roof as he guided you by taking your hands into his. It was all so romantic and sweet.

It had to be a bittersweet departure after your little weekend of fun was over, but everyone loved you. You had your bags packed back up with Trey, the luggage sitting in the foyer as you ate a delightful breakfast, feeling right at home as you sat next to your beloved. Trey was holding your hand under the table as you two dug into the fluffy blueberry pancakes his mom and dad had made for everyone, one of his little brothers quickly getting your attention. "(Y/N)?" The little boy called out quietly. "Yes, little one?" You asked, your voice a soft coo. The 3rd year glanced over at you as you interacted with his baby brother, watching carefully. "Will you come back with our big brother again soon?" "Well, that depends on both me and your big brother, dear. I'd love to, though!" You replied, flashing a smile to the little guy, who hugged you. "I'm gonna miss you..." He whined. "Me two!" Trey's sister piped up. "Me thwee!" The youngest chimed in, Trey and his parents chuckling at your interactions. "You have quite the partner here, Trey." His father spoke, looking at his son in pride. "You really do, sweetie, you better try and hold onto them!" Trey's mother spoke, smiling warmly. "They're a keeper!" "I know." Trey replied, looking at you now hugging his younger siblings, warmth bubbling in his chest. "I plan to treat them right." Overall, you had a new home in the Clover family, and your boyfriend's thinking of ways to properly propose to you after the trip. Never hurts to plan it out!

Riddle Rosehearts

Oh god, oh no, this one hurts. This will never ever end well if he picks the S/O... You knew Riddle had some problems he was trying to work through, you understood, truly! And Riddle was eternally grateful for your presence and influence in his life, you had to be the best thing to ever happen to him! You were his angel sent from the stars. Which is why he dreaded introducing you to his mother. He knew his father would've been okay, and he honestly has zero issues showing you off to him! If he was actually at home that is...He was currently abroad when Riddle accidentally let it slip that he was dating. So, in came the demands to meet you to make sure you were good enough for her baby, and the news that you two were going to his house for dinner.

You both had pits in your stomachs when you showed up to the Rosehearts household... You were greeted by the intimidating visage of Riddle's mother, who was standing in the yard with her arms folded tightly over her chest, her eyes boring into you. "Hello, mother." Riddled greeted, closing himself off to your presence and tensing up, his shoulders stiff; a telltale sign that he was stressed. You had to bite back the urge to coo and coddle him like you normally did when he was upset. "Riddle." His mother hummed looking at you with disdain. "Why is your...companion here dressed like that?" She asked sharply, making you feel embarrassed. You had asked Rook of all people to style you, but it appears it's simply not up to par with the impossible standard's Mrs. Rosehearts held. "We had asked one of our fellow classmates to dress them in the finest clothes they had available." Riddle spoke. Riddle's mother tsked. "I thought that I raised you better than this, they look terribly tacky, and I thought you would've had better tastes. Come. Dinner is waiting now." Riddle clenched his fists, feeling sorrow well up in his chest as he looked at you apologetically. You rushed forward, hugging Riddle from behind and kissing his cheek to reassure him. It was still quite the sting hearing his mother act so harsh, though.

Dinner wasn't much better either... You made sure to study proper etiquette with Riddle before you came here, but none of that seemed to matter as you choked down the bland food. Seriously, who doesn't bother to season meet and just serve nothing but tomatoes, onions and iceberg lettuce for a salad...? You tried your best, but Mrs. Rosehearts just eyed you in disgust, biting her tongue but looking at Riddle with a disappointed gaze. Riddle himself couldn't tell if sorrow or anger was bubbling up in his chest. You explained you were from another world when she asked where you were from and she looked at you like you just spat on her when you told her you were magicless; despite her already knowing that. She made Riddle tell her about you after making him nearly break down in tears over the phone last night. "Pathetic! I raised my son better than this, and yet you're barely passing, have no magic, and carry no knowledge of anything worthwhile! You're nothing but a waste of his time and my own!" The harpy of a woman shrieked. Oh, that was it, he picked his side of the fence...

Riddle felt a cord finally snap as all of his years of strict, lonely suffering drove him forward. "Why can't you just be happy that I finally found someone, mother?" Riddle hissed, catching the attention of his present parent. "Because, your selection was terrible! I could pick you a much better partner." Mrs. Rosehearts said, you feeling like you could start crying. "No! I-I don't want anyone else, much less an arrangement where I'll feel nothing for the other party!" Riddle barked angrily, slamming his fist on the table as he stood up. "I want who I fell in love with! I want my rose! I want to stay with (Y/N)!" "When will you see that you're worth more than them?!" "They've been nothing short of an angel to me, fixing the damage you caused!" Riddle yelled, his face bright red from anger. "They're worth far more than me from where I stand!" "Then you can just take that garbage and get them out of this house, you and I will start studying to find you a suitable-" "If they leave, I'm leaving with them, in fact, that's a wonderful idea!" Riddle bellowed, you looking up at him and rising from your seat. Rushing to his side, you tugged him out of the house as Riddle's mother screamed at you two from the kitchen and out the door, Riddle yelling that she won't take you away; he's had so much stripped from him, he refuses to lose you. This entire situation was a disaster, but you knew your precious prince loved you so dearly. Once you two made it back to his dorm, Riddle looked exhausted. You asked him what you could do to ease his struggles after he changed into his pajamas. "My rose, tonight, I just want to forget everything, rules and all..." Riddle whined, looking at you with tired slate grey orbs. "I just want to hold you in my arms and wake up to your face..." "Of course, my love." You cooed softly, kissing his cheeks as you both crawled under the covers of his bed, Riddle curling into your form instantly. Under the warmth of the duvet, everything felt right; you were his and he was yours, and no tyrant was ever going to rip you apart. Riddle had proven his iron clad love belonged to you and you alone.

#twisted wonderland x reader #heartslabyul #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #heartslaybul x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #cater diamond #trey clover #riddle rosehearts #twst headcanons

[twstfanblog]

*~Period Drama~* Tuesday

A/N: SCREAMS. I am...SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG. We had to do double time to move out of our house since our landlords decided to fucking sell the property so we had to LEAVE. But it's done and I'm very happy with it and I hope you like it too. Enjoy~! Word Count: 6.7K Warnings: She/They Pronouns OC, Lilia does look and poke at Yuu's genitals Pairings: YuuxJamilxAzulxMalleus (Poly), (Sebek/Silver in the corner) ~Taglist (At this point I'm just adding everyone I've found who was interested in the fic XD) @twistedcece @deltrea @krenenbaker @koebishrimpuwu @cat100200 @emyluwinter @obsessionswithfandoms @ady-hilborn @lucid-stories @girl-nahh-two @itz-hydrodeptus-foxy7 @chyluna @riddlesimps @death-the-jo @a-twistedheartslonging @qixlin @chaosistheonlyway @welcome-to-my-horde @abell2029cluster @kirans-wonderland @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @the-ace-reader @iamsoconfusedallofthetime @chroniccorvus @marvelous-maxi @prolonged-eyecontact @lozplayer @jabberwocky-warrior @thateldribitch @bun-lapin @mel1rose @ladyraeka @ladyzsgolla Start, Part 2 (Octavinelle), Part 3 (Heartslabyul), Part 4 (Savanaclaw), Part 4.5 (Diasomnia pt1), Part 5 (Here)

Malleus almost always forgot he even owned a phone, meaning he basically never texted Yuu. So when his personalized text tone played Yuu was quick to stop their sobbing and open his message.

‘May I see you tomorrow?’

Short, simple, sweet, and weirdly formal. Yuu smiled, typing back quickly before the horned fae forgot he owned a phone again.

‘Sure babes. Sorry ive been mia the past few days. Not feeling well. Ill explain when i see you tomorrow.’

‘I should hope so.’

Okay, vaguely rude.

When Malleus had said tomorrow, Yuu assumed he meant during lunch or after classes. Instead, he showed up on their doorstep with his whole family unit and a grumbling Grim in tow at 8am in the goddamn morning. None of them were in uniform, clad in casual comfortable clothing. They clearly planned to spend the whole day with her instead of a simple visit.

She blinks, almost overwhelmed at the sheer…something of the current event, “Hi…It's…really early.”

Lilia smiles, tilting his head as he holds up a large and slightly weathered first aid bag, “We brought gauze!”

Silver holds out his arms, the dire beast scowling but unmoving in his grip, “And Grim.”

“Oh, what beautiful treasures…”

“Enough beating around the unwanted bush.” Malleus steps forward, hands reaching to clasp around Yuu's. Looking into their surprised eyes with determination, “What is this illness and how can I help ease you of it?”

Yuu snorted, closing her eyes in an effort to not start laughing at how seriously Malleus was taking their ‘ailment’, “It'll…It'll pass with time, Malleus. But, luckily, I'm actually feeling a lot better than yesterday.” They step to the side, managing to pull a hand free from Malleus's grip to gesture for the Diasomnia family to enter.

Silver nods his head in thanks, walking into the hall to place Grim down. The cat quickly running further in the house, remarking Yuu still smelled weird, “That's good to hear. Did you use a form of medicine to ease your symptoms?”

Yuu closes the door behind them, Malleus already firmly attached to their side. No doubt the smell of their blood making him hyper-aware of their every movement, “Yeah. Crewel gave me a lecture and a pain potion when he brought me dinner last night. Plus the guttural sobbing I've been doing. But, I think it was mainly because I finally took that body cleansing shit…”

The beat of silence almost makes Yuu burst into laughter again, the four males all looking a level of stunned before Silver shakingly spoke.

“A-ah…That's...good?”

“Yeah, it really realigned my chakras or something.”

“Okay?”

“Yuu, could you tell us exactly what is going on?” Lilia's smile was strained. He had spent most of last night racking his memory of various illnesses. Any that he knew of that dealt with bleeding were things that would have killed Yuu within the hour if they had reached that stage. But to know they'd been bleeding for days? Whatever they had managed to catch was cause for concern. But now knowing it was causing other ailments…it was either a truly deadly disease or it was evolving into one…

“Oh, it's nothing serious. Just the muscles that are causing all this-” Yuu makes a vague gesture to their lower anatomy, “- are the same muscles that handle pooping. So…it was expected to happen…”

There was another beat of silence, each male looking at Yuu's stomach, placing the pieces together slowly as they realized she gestured below her stomach.

“Why…why did you…gesture…down there?” Silver spoke slowly, eyes making quick glances between Yuu's crotch, then to Malleus's blank face, then to Sebek's tearfully bewildered expression. Is…are they…?

Malleus says what all of them were fearfully thinking, “Is the blood coming out of you from your nethers!?”

“Ye.”

Lilia stood still, eyes wide as he openly stared at Yuu's crotch. This was…he had never heard of such a thing…

Malleus's hands quickly grabbed at Yuu's hips, magic flowing from his fingers in his panicked attempts to heal what he could only fear was internal ripping, “Why did no one tell me!?”

“I don't think you should be bleeding from there, Yuu?”

“Silver. Words can not describe how badly I wish I wasn't. But, sadly, yeah, this is completely natural for me to do. I wish I wasn't. I am so full of fucking hatred right now, I am a literal danger to my and everyone else's safety.”

Lilia made quiet work of prying Malleus off of Yuu, though he was clearly still concerned himself, “It's natural to bleed out of your nethers?”

“Where I'm from? Unfortunately yes.” Yuu shrugs, holding Malleus's hand as the horned fae tried to reattach himself to their side, “The pussy is a curse and the price must be paid in blood sadly.” They say it with a level of nonchalance that only has the Diasomnia crew looking at them in worry.

Malleus grips tighter to Yuu's hand, raising it to press a gentle kiss to their knuckles, “Please, there has to be something that can be done to ease this curse…”

“...” Yuu pulled Malleus to the living room, showing the plethora of blankets and pillows on the floor. Empty bottle and snack wrappers pushed to a corner of the rug in an effort to keep the cozy area of the floor clear. Yuu gestures to the darkened room, heavy curtains closed to enhance the perfect sleep environment, “You guys can do whatever around the house. But, if you wanna join me, I was about to lay down in the dark listening to sad music and take a nap.”

Sebek sneers, eyes squinted as he mumbled out, “It's 8am…?”

Yuu whips around, ignoring Malleus's worried fretting for their neck, “Hey, Sebek? You don't need to fucking be here.”

Sebek's sneer turned into a deep frown, his expression clearly showing how badly he wanted to yell back. But with their ‘illness’, plus Malleus's protective stance, he knew he'd quicker be scolded than actually get a sentence out.

“Wow, you are more full of hate. You normally let Sebek get at least four sentences out before telling him to be quiet.” Silver moves to sit on the couch, only to realize that Yuu had removed all of the larger cushions and used them as padding for the floor.

Malleus looked over the sad state of his lover's nest, frowning before he pulled Yuu closer to ask them quietly, “Would you mind if I fixed your nest? This looks…barely functional.”

Yuu smiles, bringing a hand up to pat Malleus's face gently, “Do as you please, Peligroso.” 

Malleus kisses their palm before moving toward the mash-up of cushions, blankets, and - to his distaste - bloody towels. He first deconstructed the mess, organizing the materials he had before coming to the conclusion he needed more.

No one tried to stop Malleus as he walked out of the room, his pupils dilated as he busied himself in nest-making.

“Beastie, are you really well? Mundane for you aside, losing that much blood at a steady pace can't be good for you…” The scent of blood was off at that. Fresh blood was concerning enough, but the smell of old blood was not good if one was actively bleeding.

Yuu waves their hand, sneaking a towel from Malleus's separated piles to sit on, “No need to worry Lils; Crewel’s made sure I've been taking iron supplement potions, plus I'm still taking the multivitamin Riddle demanded I start at the beginning of the year once our beef ended.”

Malleus returns, bulks of blankets and pillows floating behind him into the room. He quickly turns a sharp eye toward Yuu, seeing one of the cleaner towels had been taken from his nest piles. But at seeing their smile, he could only sigh and begin building.

Lilia clicks his tongue, holding the old medical bag in his hands, “Well, I'm not sure how useful this gauze is going to be then if it coming out from such an area…I'm not sure you're open to the idea of it…being inserted.”

“I'm not.”

“Fair.” Lilia removed the bag from his shoulder, allowing it to drop to the ground. Walking closer to Malleus, yet still a few feet away, he started to teasingly offer his unwanted opinion of how his ‘mate’ would like the nest to look.

Silver and Sebek took seats on the ground closer to Yuu, the second year pulling the medical bag into his lap as he started to look through it, “While the gauze may be useless, I think there's some pain ointment still in here. Possibly a potion but it's long bitter by now…Oh.”

From inside the bag, Silver pulled out a simple arm cuff attached to a hand pump and dial. It looked old, but the metal holding it together still shined, “Lend me your arm, I want to check your blood pressure.”

“My blood pressure? Why?” Yuu still held their arm out, letting Silver gently clasp the cuff to their lower bicep, “I haven't felt light headed.”

“You might not have noticed if you've been bleeding as long as you have…” he starts to pump the bulb, the cuff growing tighter, “Just see it as a way for me to get peace of mind…”

Silver and Sebek watch the needle, their expressions slowly turning concerned at the reading.

Sebek whispered under his breath, one of his eyes twitching in annoyance as he reread the result, “Why is it high?”

Yuu blinked, looking at the dial before turning to Silver, “Yeah, that's…normal.”

“...Really?”

“I don't know, man. I'm 15, I've never had to know what my normal blood pressure is.”

Silver sighed, deflating the cuff and removing it, “Did you never take notice of it when you went to the doctor for check ups?”

“Silver, baby boy, I haven't been to the doctor since I was in elementary school. Do you not know how expensive a doctor appointment is?”

“I really hate when you say things like that…” Silver still didn't understand how a simple doctor's visit cost money. It was a universal service, all they'd have to do was walk into the nearest office and simply wait.

Yuu hummed, nodding her head, “I forget that you guys have free healthcare here…I kinda just conditioned myself to be ok with dying since the doctor was so expensive where I'm from.”

Silver sighed, fingers pressing against his temple, “Please, curb that habit. For all of our sakes…”

“You got a will to live in there then?”

“...” Silver looks through the bag, managing to pull out an antique-looking locket that held a graying, grainy photo of a confused-looking Malleus on one side and a more vivid photo of a sleeping infant Silver on the other, “I think this is what father uses?”

“Oh my god?” Yuu couldn't stop the bubbling laughter that started when they spoke. They cover their mouth and gently bring the locket closer to look at the photos. Only now do they realize Malleus in the photo has a small circlet of a crown on his forehead. There was no telling how old the photo was, possibly in a time the first camera was even made and Lilia got his hands on one.

They snort, letting the locket swing from their hand and allow Silver to place it back in the bag, “Ok…that works. I now have the strength to carry on.” From the corner of their eye, they can see Sebek's stern gaze staring into the side of their face, “Yes, Sebek? Can you be helped?”

The half-faes's face pinches together harder, lip curling up into a scowl as he looks away briefly. His mild avoidance was short-lived, turning back to Yuu with an expression of concern, “You're…You're okay now, correct?”

At Yuu and Silver's stunned expressions, Sebek grows more timid, thumbs twiddling together as he clasped his hands, “Ace’s texts didn't give much info. But even knowing that…that didn’t transpire, this is still a worrying state of affairs.” Sebek looks up from his hands, staring into Yuu's eyes with steady resolve, “We have our differences more than anything. But I count you as my comrade in ensuring Waka-Sama’s happiness. Your continued good health would be in the best interest of all!”

It was no secret that Yuu and Sebek did not get along. Their first official meeting was a brawl that neither walked away from unscathed (and Sebek left the fight with a secret he'd be taking to his grave under Lilia's instructions). They bickered, fought, and openly slandered each other every chance they got. Truely, the only things keeping them from killing each other were the facts they shared the same friend group and that Yuu was romantically involved with Malleus. Yuu was sure without those factors, Sebek would have actually declared them an enemy of Briar Valley itself.

So to see and hear the other first-year state that he was concerned was jarring at best. 

Yuu stared at Sebek, the half-fae looking at them with an open and vulnerable expression as he waited for their truth. Honestly, were they ok? It'd been only a few days but this felt like the worst period Yuu had ever had. And seeing how their flow wasn't easing as it normally would, they were sure it was going to be longer than normal too. They were in pain, everyone was treating them as though they would shatter at the slightest inconvenience. They were free bleeding of all things…but, their friends cared and were each trying to make things better. 

Azul and the Tweels had basically tried to cater their every meal, though they kept their distance; mer noses were so sensitive to blood after all. Crewel would come in the evenings with medication and conversation. Riddle was compiling a list of some kind with Jade, but he was using info from their “interview” to figure out ways to ease their symptoms. Ace and Deuce had both swore to actually take notes for once so that they wouldn't fall behind in their classes. Trey had texted a number of times, sneakily trying to gauge their temperament so he could ambush them with baked goods. Cater had sent several photos of wet, angry, disheveled-looking cats with the caption ‘this u?’ whenever they were in a bad mood.

Even just yesterday, Jack had basically appointed himself as their bodyguard, not allowing anyone closer than 2 feet from their person. Ruggie had gone into nursemaid mode and Yuu was mildly terrified at how prepared and willing he was to help them deliver a baby. Even Leona's lazy ass had helped. Held them while they cried all the way to their dorm, calling them at midnight just to check if they were sleeping and not up alone with their thoughts.

And now, the Diasomnia family unit had brought them a first aid kit. Not the correct move, but a show of concern either way. Looking into Sebek's face only cemented how cared for they were by their forged family. Yuu opened their mouth slightly as though to speak, waiting as Sebek perked up, leaning closer to fully hear what they were about to say.

Instead of words, all that escaped Yuu's mouth was a burp that traveled directly into Sebek's face.

The half-fae sputters, annoyance growing at Silver's near silent ‘Excuse you’ to the other human. He wiped at his face as though he could remove the air, growling before he pointed a finger at Yuu's smug little grin, “You should have been killed when your mother birthed you!”

“Sebek.”

Sebek quickly placed his hand in his lap, frowning hard as he looked down in an odd mixture of shame and anger. Malleus had turned around and scolded him almost instantly. The dragon fae was frowning, eyes filled with a disappointment only an older sibling could give. He stared long enough until Sebek finally relented and spoke through gritted teeth at Yuu.

“My deepest apologies. You are injured and I have no reason to…antagonize you. Please, forgive me…”

“Did that hurt to say, Sebek?”

Silver placed a hand on Yuu's shoulder, trying to not sigh or laugh their antics, “Yuu…”

Yuu smiled, tilting their head and nodding, “Apology accepted, Sebek. Just don't be mean to me, okay~?”

Translation; I'm going to milk this for your whole visit.

Sebek's frown curled so tight it could only be called a pout. But seeing how he didn't speak further, Yuu turned to speak directly to the 3rd years only to choke mildly at the new impressive structure taking up space adjacent to the fireplace.

What was once their sad faux floor bed set up was a large blanket nest. Pillows tastefully lining the sides for support and comfort, blankets laid together to cover the couch cushions while some were still free to wrap in. A large throw blanket suspended in the air by magic cloaks the whole structure like an open tent. It looked cozy, it looked inviting. Yuu almost hated how proud Malleus looked of his work.

“...” Yuu rolled their eyes, trying to hide their blush as they turned away from Malleus's increasingly smug face, “Ok, your nest is very impressive. Are you proud of yourself?”

“Not until you are in it.”

Lilia spoke quietly, eyes giving Malleus a playful warning look as he chuckled, “Remember you two, we're here with you…”

Yuu laughs, standing from their towel and stretching, “Alright, nap time.” They take care to place down the towel, climbing into the nest and making themselves comfortable in the structure. They had no actual animal-based DNA, but they felt the need to curl up and sleep for DAYS from their new cozy spot. Malleus had built the nest well.

Opening their eyes, they could barely stop the snort that tried to escape them. Malleus was pressed against the side of the nest, eyes wide and focused on them. Yuu tilted their head, smiling widening as Malleus tilted his head in response, “You wanna join me?”

The question makes Malleus lean back, eyes almost bulging out of his head before he manages to school his features, “So bold…As always.” He laughs from behind his hand, “I’m happy to see you are in better spirits compared to yesterday.”

Yuu casts him a confused glance, wondering just when the dragon fae had seen them yesterday. While Malleus made himself comfortable beside them, they looked at the remaining Diasomnia unit standing at attention around the nest, “You guys coming in?”

Lilia snorts, ignoring Mallues’s glare demanding they refuse Yuu’s invitation, “Are you sure, Beastie? We wouldn’t want to intrude…” His eyes lock on Malleus’s, communicating silently that if Yuu invited them into their nest, it’d be rude to deny their request.

“I mean I invited you in the first place.” They gesture to the empty space beside them and Malleus, “Plus, this thing has room for like four more people…”

Malleus mumbles under his breath, an arm wrapping around Yuu’s middle and bringing them closer to his body to nuzzle into their hair, “Or eight children…”

“What?”

“Hm?” Malleus pulls from their hair, smiling at their confused face before making himself comfortable against them again.

Lilia actually laughs this time, “Well, if you insist.”

Everyone climbs into the nest; Lilia pressed against Malleus’s side with Silver beside him already half asleep. Sebek had begrudgingly made his place beside Yuu, huffing as the human offered their hand to hold. Neither of them speaking when Sebek does grip their hand gently. Once everyone had seemed cozy, Yuu retrieved their phone from their pajama pants pockets, opening their ‘sad times’ playlist to start playing music. But the sound of a thud rings out from the kitchen, everyone turning to the noise in mild suspense. Soon, Grim enters the room with a bag of cookies clutched in his mouth.

Yuu raises an eyebrow but helps Grim climb his way into the nest, the cat curling up against their side squished between them and Sebek, “Was that you? Did you fall off of something-hold on.” They grab the bag of cookies from Grim, frowning once they realize what they were holding, “Are these the good cookies? You little shit, you said you ate the last of them!”

Grim grumbled, curling up tighter to Yuu’s side and swatting at their hand tugging on his ear, “I lied! You always hog them so when you left one day I hid them to snack on myself…But…” He huffed, looking at them from the corner of his eyes, “I think you need them more than I do…”

“...” Yuu sniffled, fanning their face as tears started to build in their eyes, “Grim…Grim…” They take a shuddering breath, ignoring the others watching them in worry, “I already threw up like twice yesterday from crying so hard, I’m not doing it again.”

“Parden?” Malleus’s brows creased. When did they throw up!? Just how severe was this illness?

Yuu waves his concerns off, tapping onto their ‘Sad Vibes’ playlist, setting it to shuffle before they connect to the lounge speakers, “It's not important, Malleus. I'm not gonna cry. We're gonna lay down in the dark and listen to sad songs and sleep.”

Sebek mumbles from beside Yuu, his free hand petting a softly purring Grim, “That seems to be the perfect setting to cry in…?”

Lilia gives Yuu a worried glance but doesn't agree nor disagree. He instead places a hand on Malleus’s shoulder, a silent effort to calm the dragon's fussing, “Well, if we're going to listen to music, just none of that Mitsuki woman please…”

Silver blinks his eyes open, tiredly looking to Lilia, “But I like the dog song.”

“...” Lilia sighs, his arm moving to wrap around Silver's shoulders and bringing him closer, “I…I know…”

Yuu tearfully laughed, laying their head onto a softly fretting Malleus. Their weak laughter breaks from teary into genuine amusement as the first song starts.

My baby, my baby…

Leaning over Malleus, snickering as the dragon fae gently presses her head back down to his chest as a silent command to sleep, Yuu whispers to Lilia, “I’m sorry…”

Lilia’s smile is strained, his grip on a sleeping Silver slowly increasing as he fought against his own emotions, “No you're not…”

The nap lasted far too long, Malleus thought to himself. The dragon fae didn't actually sleep, but he kept watch of his family as they did. Silver of course slept, curled up in Lilia's intense embrace before the bat general eased into a light sleep. Though Sebek had been the most against the nap, he had dozed off not long after Silver. One hand still gripping onto Yuu’s while the other resting on a snoring Grim's back.

Yuu was out almost immediately after Sebek, a content smile on their face as they curled up to Malleus's chest. A smile he watched slowly fade through the hours. A common occurrence as one slept, something he's learned from years of watching Silver. What concerned him were the twitches and grimaces of pain that started to increase the longer they stayed asleep. He didn't want to wake Lilia to ask for advice, the older fae having spent most of his night in worry over Yuu's condition and it didn't help he wasn't a morning person normally.

But if the discomfort was enough to affect Yuu's sleep, it was no wonder they felt the need to nap so early in the morning. They possibly hadn't slept the night before from pain alone. He had spent a few moments thinking how he could help, an arm around their waist and a hand pressed to their lower stomach to ease magic from his fingertips. His healing magic wasn't nearly as refined as he wanted. No matter how much magic he poured in, there were no wounds to be closed on the surface. But he could feel how Yuu would curl into his palm, almost trying to trap the heat close to them.

So for the past two hours he laid in a nest with his fiancé, his father, his brother, his brother's ‘friend’, and a cat; palm pressed just above his lover's mysteriously bleeding anatomy to act as a glorified hot water bottle.

Though he had no true method of knowing, he felt as though his grandmother was laughing at his predicament.

And while he did find the lyrics and vocals of Miss Amy Lee to be rather enchanting, he felt relieved to hear the music stop playing abruptly and a shrill beeping take its place. He couldn't help but smile, listening to everyone minus Silver groan at the sound of the alarm. Lilia huffed, snuggling his nose into Silver's hair while the human knight remained perfectly asleep. Sebek had pouted but still sat up, blinking in mild confusion as to where he was. Yuu had tried to bury their head in the space between his arm and chest, a hand reaching out blindly to no doubt silence the alarm.

As much as Malleus enjoyed his loved ones sleeping peacefully around him, he didn't think letting them sleep anymore was the correct choice. He smiled, easily catching Yuu's hand to gently kiss their knuckles, “My dear. I do believe your nap is over now.”

Yuu groans, but doesn't try to pull away, “At least turn the alarm off…”

Lilia clicks his tongue, finally pulling away from Silver to sleepily reach for Yuu's still blaring phone, “I got it…”

“Thanks-ack!” They were batted in the face by Grim's increasingly annoyed tail, the dire beast fighting to stay asleep from the rising noise. A move that had Yuu sneezing after a few moments.

The fae and Grim instantly snapped to attention. Yuu's sneeze was quickly followed by an overwhelming scent of blood. The sudden change in the atmosphere instantly waking Silver. Sebek had tightened his grip on Yuu's hand, almost as though he were helping them to brace against pain. Grim scrambled away from their side, moving to frown and shake from the other side of Sebek.

Malleus brought both his arms to wrap around Yuu's body. How could he let his guard down in such a way? They were sick. Why did he assume a nap was the correct choice to make? They should be in the care of a professional. Now they had clearly torn something, or something had hemorrhaged and they were bleeding out internally-

Lilia turned the alarm off, quickly kneeling and placing his hands on Yuu's knees, “Yuu, I know you said this was natural. But this is concerning. As your future midwife, I implore you allow me to check there isn't actual damage to yourself.”

“I- Lilia, I'm fine. I just sneezed.” Sneezing on one’s period was never nice, sure. Yuu fully felt as though they just forced out half their bladder even though they knew that wasn't the case. “It happens sometimes. The clenching just makes blood come out.”

Malleus growls, his arms tightening around Yuu's body. Lilia was right. No matter how much Yuu claimed it was normal and routine, they shouldn't be bleeding like this, “My love, please. Let him check. Lilia has more medical training than possibly anyone on campus. Just allow him to check.”

“Malleus-”

“Please…” Malleus pleads, concern clear on his and the other's face.

“...” Yuu rolls their eyes but starts to shimmy their pajama pants down, “Fine. If it'll calm you down.”

Sebek and Silver instantly look away, though both shuffle closer in an act to box Yuu in so that no one else could see the human’s privates.

Lilia was quiet, eyes looking unblinkingly at what he could only describe a mess. He was careful, only touching Yuu's anatomy for brief moments to send pings of magic through the flesh to search for opened wounds. But other than the blood he couldn't find anything that would call for concern. Leaning back he sighed, bringing the back of his hand to rub at his eyes, “By the Seven, this is a mess…”

“Wow, Lilia. I'm so happy you're here to stare into my abyss and call it a fucking mess.” Yuu glared, hoping their voice carried just how annoyed they were, “Really, I'm so glad.”

“My apologies, Beastie. I just haven't seen a vagina in this bloody a state since Sebek was born…”

Sebek half turned around, expression vaguely disgusted and horrified, “What?”

Yuu snorts, shaking Sebek’s hand still holding theirs in a way of gaining his attention, “Wow, Sebek, way to wreck your mom’s pussy.”

Sebek retaliated, using their still joined hands to twist and force Yuu’s arm into a painful bend. Yuu had quickly tried to escape his hold, both by wiggling their trapped arm and also using their free hand to slap at Sebek’s face while making repeated yelps of pain. Sebek had managed to dodge only a few hits until a bolt of lightning hit just outside, the flash sending the room into a blinding state before the light faded. Malleus glared down at Sebek, silently demanding the half-fae release his fiance.

Once freed, Yuu instantly pointed toward Sebek while looking at Lilia with wide eyes. Their tone coming out vaguely whining and childish, “He twisted my arm!”

Sputtering, Sebek looked between Yuu and Lilia. Pointing back at her while he looked at Lila pleading that he hears him out, “She talked about my mother’s vagina!”

“...” Lilia sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before speaking, “Sebek, don’t twist Yuu’s arm; she’s already in pain. Yuu, don’t talk about Sebek’s mother’s vagina; you know he doesn’t like that.”

“Did that hurt to say?” Silver looked at his father, half joking but delivered in such a painfully serious way that Lilia could only sigh harder.

Malleus’s expression only grew more concerned, arms wrapping tighter around Yuu and allowing his palms to heat a bit more. He only relaxed as Yuu themselves eased a bit more in his hold, “Yuu, please. Tell me what is causing this, If not for your own sake, but my own, I need to know. I have never been more distressed and on edge than these past few days. It isn't helpful either that you continue to be nonchalant, I dare say you've hurt my feelings with how you've been handling this…

“...” Yuu takes their time to pull their pajama pants back up, moving to sit up fully to look at Malleus directly, “Malleus, you're completely valid for feeling upset with me about all of this. In hindsight, I really should have just told you guys instead of disregarding Crewel’s attempts to keep this on the downlow for the sake of campus sanity. I fucked up, I will take that L. But I want you to know and consider that I have been in pain, tired, sad, and enraged both consistently and erratically for days. Do you really think the correct choice right now is to complain to me…about how my period…is making you feel?”

…

Malleus blinked, eyes darting to Lilia who only shook his head at Malleus's silent question. He looked down, then back to Yuu who was staring at him silently, almost waiting for him to answer incorrectly, “...I would still like to discuss this at a later date…when you are well again.”

“I'll make sure to set a meeting up with Azul, so that we both remember. Thank you for understanding…” Yuu's mood does a 180, now smiling and trying to stand from Malleus's arms, “Anyway, it's like noon now right? I know I have a bunch of stale tortillas and shredded cheese in the kitchen so we can make quesadillas-”

Malleus refused to remove his arms from around Yuu, basically pulling the human back into his lap, “I would like to speak about why you're dodging my question though.”

Yuu hummed, looking up to Malleus's face as they slowly twisted a strand of their hair, “...What are you talking about?”

“You are…well aware of what I've been asking you.”

“I'm really not.”

“Yuu-”

“You're sounding crazy right now.”

Malleus scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully, “Don't attempt to gaslight me. I keep asking you what caused this ailment or how I can ease this plague and you…don't answer me.” Malleus narrows his eyes, arms wrapping tighter against Yuu's body when they subtly tried to move away from him again, “Do you simply wish to…not tell me?”

“...” Yuu sighed, resting their head against Malleus’s shoulder. They smile, looking up into his eyes with a soft affection, “You know I love you right?”

“Your feminine wiles aren't getting you out of this. Answer my question.”

Silver speaks up, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “Malleus, they may not have an answer as to what caused it…”

Sebek grunts from Yuu's side, eyes casting a worried look back to the other freshman's covered anatomy, “If they don't know what caused it then that's even more concerning. This could be a serious medical emergency and we're all twiddling our thumbs because the one who's ill says they're fine.”

“I am fine. I just…don't wanna say why this happens…”

Lilia perks up, raising an eyebrow as he rests his chin on Yuu's now pressed together knees, “So this illness is triggered?”

“Yes? No?” Yuu huffs, raising their hands in a form of defeat, “It just happens man. But like…for a reason.”

Malleus frowned, almost pouting as he gently moved Yuu's chin to make them look directly into his eyes, “Yuu. My dear. I'm deeply concerned. Please, just tell me what causes this so we may prevent it…”

“...” Yuu sighs, closing their eyes before opening them, “...This happens when I don't get pregnant.”

…

Silver fully turns to Yuu, eyes focusing on the other human as though he could physically see through what he begged was a lie, “Are…Are you serious?”

“Like the fucking heart attack that will take Sebek out one day.”

“Hey-”

“Oh!” Malleus smiles, his eyes shining to the point Yuu was certain they were glowing, “This is easily fixed then.”

Yuu continued to smile, shaking their head knowing what the dragonfae was going to suggest, “...Malleus…”

“I simply need to impregnate you. Then you won't be affected by this plague again.”

“...” Yuu sighed, “No…”

“...” Malleus's expression falls back into an angered pout, “Why not?”

“It doesn't work that way…”

“...” His expression deepens, “How does it not ‘work that way’ exactly?”

Lilia patted Yuu's leg, flicking his head toward the entryway of the lounge as a silent command to Sebek and Silver, “We're gonna go…”

Yuu turned away from Malleus, blinking at Lilia in astonishment as the fae and other Diasomnia pair stand up, “Now why the fuck would you do that?”

Silver was kind enough to scoop Grim into his arms, the dire beast still shivering from the sudden scent of blood, “We’ve come to an agreement that we’d leave the room when you two start fighting.”

“We aren’t even fighting…” Yuu muttered under their breath, making a point to not look toward Malleus’s upset face. They’re pretty sure they’d start giggling at how frustrated he’s being about this.

Sebek shakes his head, already walking out of the room, “You become incredibly uncivil to everyone when you and Waka-Sama have disagreements. Lilia-Sama is right in having us leave the area before you two really start…”

“We aren’t fighting?”

“We’re fighting a little…” Malleus mutters under his breath, glaring off to the side.

Yuu glares over their shoulder, “No, we aren’t.”

Lilia walked behind Silver, holding his hands up as they left the room, “We’re gonna go. We'll make you two those quesadillas!” He ignored Yuu’s wide eyed stare, closing the doors of the lounge behind him and leaving Yuu and Malleus alone in the room.

The silence was loud, the two of them sitting comfortably in the nest. After a few more moments of quiet, Yuu sighs loudly, tucking their head to Malleus's chest and nuzzling into him gently.

Malleus sighs himself, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of Yuu's head, “My love…please. You're hurting and I don't understand why you won't let me help in the best way I can…”

“Because it wouldn't actually help, Malleus.” They felt bad. It hadn't really hit them just how out of the realm of reality their period was to everyone. Sure the event itself could be scary in their old world, the amount of first period horror stories only grew as the years went on. But to have no frame of reference… the concept of a period sounded downright terrifying.

“How?” Malleus huffed, an air of frustration growing. Were they joking around? Deliberately speaking in circles to annoy him as a tease? “You said this happens if you don't get pregnant. If you get pregnant, then you will not have to deal with this ailment.”

At Yuu's own frustrated sigh, Malleus's eyes widen, “Is…is it too late?” A feeling of guilt starts to grow in him. Were they meant to be impregnated at a specific time? Had a window of opportunity been missed? Was this the rest of Yuu's life now; bleeding out of their intimates and crying so hard they were forced to purge?

Yuu couldn't help but chuckle at Malleus's face, reaching up to bring the worried fae closer for a gentle kiss. They speak as they pull away, “Calm down. This isn't going to last forever and I'll be back to normal by the end of the week at worst.”

Malleus curls around them, his hand still a gentle heat on their lower stomach, “But why wouldn't we simply skip this and just…start our agreement now? If the trigger for this ailment is that you weren't impregnated, why can't we have our child now so that you won't have to suffer this way.”

“I'll be honest with you, Malleus. It's literally because I don't wanna be a teen mom; that's the main reason. But also…there's no guarantee my period would stop during a pregnancy. Plus it'll still come back like a few months after having the baby…”

“...” Malleus pulls away from Yuu, staring at them in a silent state of confusion but his eyes were screaming, “Why…would you get the period…if you're pregnant? Isn't that…you stated you get your period if you don't get pregnant?”

“That is correct, yes.”

“...But…you could also…get your period…if you are pregnant?”

“Ye…”

“...”

Another long stretch of silence passed in the room and Yuu felt as though they could physically see the gears turning in Malleus's head. Double checking the math one would say.

“...Then what's the point of it?”

Yuu snickers under their breath, “Well, I don't think I'm knowledgeable enough to really give you the TED talk about the Tree of Knowledge and the original sin…”

“...” Malleus placed a hand on their forehead, “Are you…have you gained a fever? Is delirium a symptom of your period?”

“I'm not crazy, shut up.” Yuu pushes Malleus's hand off of their face with a grin. Cozying back into his embrace, one of their hands resting on his pressed to their lower stomach, “Periods are weird and horrible and I do not have the answers you're seeking sadly.”

Malleus could only sigh, feeling a pit growing in his mind and heart as he felt his uselessness to his love in this situation, “Is there anything you'll allow me to do? I only wish to help you during this…”

Yuu hums, reaching up to gently cupping Malleus's cheek, “This is plenty. Just…hold me and tell me you love me…”

“I love you, dear.” Malleus smiles, soft and kind as he nuzzled into Yuu's palm, “Though I'm loathed and disconcerted, I'm delighted to know I can at least help in this way…”

“I am too. You surprisingly make a great heating pad.”

Malleus moves to remove his hand, “Oh, is my hand too warm-”

Yuu quickly grips at Malleus's hand, face still calm and content but their fingernails bite into the fae's skin, “If you take this hand off of my body I will rip your spine out of you through your asshole.”

“Ah…”

They sat in comfortable silence, Malleus only mildly terrified at the visual of his spine being removed from his body by force. Their serene atmosphere half ended by Lilia happily bursting into the room with a plate of slightly charred quesadillas.

“Lunch time~!” Lilia walked to the nest, kneeling down and holding out the least burnt tortilla to Yuu's face, “Pspspspspspsps.”

Yuu's eyes snap open, a wild smile on their face as Malleus chuckled and kept them locked in his arms, “Lilia Vanrouge, I will break the fucking bones in your ears. Did Cater tell you to do this!?”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #yuu oc #malleus x yuu #malleus x reader #mallyuu #twst malleus #malleus draconia #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #silver vanrouge #twst sebek #sebek zigvolt #sebek x silver

[kazenomegaminowanpisu]

hello if it ok can you please do a reaction for (separate) Marco,ace ,izo, zoro ,smoker, aokiji reaction to having a future vision seeing their darling wearing a kimono while playing with their future children their children call and running to them hugging them"mommy daddy over here" and you Walk up to them they noticed a wedding ring on our finger you kiss them on the cheek and said "hello my love welcome home"

Op Boys vision about their beloved person wearing a kimono while playing with their future children

Warning:SFW, Fluff, Reaction

Feat:Marco, Ace, Izo, Zoro, Smoker, Aokiji

Marco

- Marco would be in awe and filled with happiness when he sees the vision of his beloved wearing a kimono and playing with their future children.

- His heart would swell with love and pride as their children call out to him, running into his embrace.

- Marco's eyes would widen in surprise and joy when he notices the wedding ring on your finger, symbolizing your commitment to each other.

- He would be touched by your affectionate greeting, feeling a sense of warmth and contentment as he finally arrives home to his loving family.

Ace

- Ace would be overjoyed and emotional at the sight of his darling wearing a beautiful kimono, playing with their adorable children.

- The vision of his children running towards him, calling him "daddy," would bring tears to his eyes.

- His heart would skip a beat when he notices the wedding ring on your finger, realizing that you have become his wife.

- Ace would be speechless as you greet him with a loving kiss on the cheek and the words, "Hello my love, welcome home," making him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

Izo

- Izo, known for his composed nature, would be taken aback and immediately overwhelmed with joy when he sees the vision of you in a kimono, playing with your future children.

- A smile would grace his face as the children happily rush towards him, calling him "mommy" or "daddy."

- His eyes would widen when he notices the wedding ring on your finger, symbolizing the strength of your bond.

- Izo would feel a rush of love and happiness as you greet him with a tender kiss on the cheek and the words, "Hello my love, welcome home," making him feel complete.

Zoro

- Zoro, though initially surprised, would be filled with warmth and happiness seeing the vision of you wearing a kimono, playing with your future children.

- While not openly emotional, a soft smile would appear on Zoro's face as your children excitedly call out to him, hugging him tightly.

- He would notice the wedding ring on your finger and be amazed by the depth of your commitment to each other.

- Zoro would blush slightly at your affectionate greeting, appreciating the feeling of homecoming and the love that surrounds him.

Smoker

- Smoker, known for his stoic nature, would find it hard to contain his surprise and amazement when he sees the vision of you in a kimono, happily playing with your future children.

- Initially caught off guard, a warm smile would slowly grace his face as he watches the children call out to him, running into his welcoming arms.

- When he notices the wedding ring on your finger, it would bring a rush of emotions, realizing the depth of your relationship.

- Smoker would be touched by your loving kiss on the cheek and the words, "Hello my love, welcome home," feeling a sense of belonging and contentment.

Aokiji

- Aokiji, known for his calm demeanor, would be pleasantly surprised and deeply moved by the vision of you wearing a kimono, playing with your future children.

- A gentle smile would form on his face as your children run towards him, calling him "mommy" or "daddy."

- His eyes would catch the wedding ring on your finger, symbolizing the commitment you both share.

- Aokiji would be filled with a warm and comforting feeling as you greet him with a tender kiss on the cheek and the words, "Hello my love, welcome home," making him feel a sense of peace and happiness.

#One piece canons #one piece scenarios #one piece x reader #one piece x s/o #one piece x y/n #Marco the phoenix x reader #Ace x reader #Izo x reader #Smoker x reader #Aokiji x reader #kazenomegaminowanpisu #one piece #hannaemeraldwhitedragon #one piece canons #writing #anime

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Autistic Anime Boys Prelims - Propaganda Division - Group 6

Propaganda:

Kiriwo -

"Seems innocent at first and he's just a guy with a special interest in magic items, but watch out."

Arjuna -

"MASKING KING!!!!!! ok joke aside one of his biggest things is that he's super scared that if anyone gets too close to him they'll notice he's not perfect/has a 'secret darkness' (that's literally just a guy) and overall a lot of his storyline is a strong parallel for being neurodivergent and becoming more comfortable with accepting it. he's also super strict and hard on himself for any sort of failure that isn't in line with what's socially appropriate but at the same time he doesn't always have a good grasp on what that is which is how you get stuff like him blowing up a forest to try and impress someone. it also runs in his family bc his brother is autistic as hell too."

Sherlock -

"God, where do I start? I mean what Holmes adaptation, even if he's not the main character, would this be if he were not autistic coded? And our combo of autism and ADHD is absolute perfection, all tied up with a pretty, excitable face. Hit him with the crime hyperfixation and do not make him wear socks."

Apollo -

"Not canonically autistic but he has ZERO volume control plus he scripts/repeats stuff (“I’M FINE!!!”), sometimes mimics other people’s speech patterns (like replying “ja” to Klavier), sensitive to loud noises (stayed backstage at a concert cuz it was too loud) and bright lights (complained about the stage lights being too bright at the same concert + screamed when opening the hatch to the bright stage at magic show), and has been really into space since he was a kid, which could definitely be a hyperfixation (not to mention how he read every single one of Phoenix’s old case files back when he admired him). Plus he’s a little TOO normal, to the point where it circles back around to making him the odd one out, which is absolutely what masking feels like for me. Even when he tries to be fun and weird he gets strange looks/made fun of for not being weird in the right way. The list of autism symptoms is just a checklist for him at this point."

Heiji -

"90% of the cast in detective conan is autistic but heiji is the most autistic of them all."

Urara -

"Another alien who is so excited to dance with everyone that he does not understand that his intended purpose of inviting people to dance via water communication is brainwashing them into dancing and is causing extreme chaos. He nearly causes an apocalypse by being so excited about dancing but he apologizes and tries to make friends with Yuki at the end of the story. He is extremely soft spoken and try, finding it difficult to begin conversations and fidgeting."

Shu -

"speaking specifically about the first season but he was the "explains everything so the audience knows whats happening" guy. he was pretty antisocial (not sure if thats just how he was or if he lived alone [which was fucked up cause he was 11]) . im trying to think of more but my brain goes hghghhhggggh im just a big fan of him."

Vash -

"ain’t no way i’m the only one who’s submitted him. go look at the gif of him crawling in the dirt like a bug while he dodges bullets and get back to me."

Hyakkimaru -

"Due to a terrible curse he has lived his whole life without several body parts including his eyes and ears. Because of this he is often overstimulated and awkward in new situations (when he doesn't do what he does best, killing monsters and samurai with his sword arms) He can't say or express much, and often comes off as strange and creepy, but he is actually a cutie patootie full of emotions, has a big heart, a keen brain, endless inner strength and loves the people close to him! This adorable, cursed, demon slaying boy deserves everything!"

Kei -

"He has the tbh face. Also he canonically has sensory issues and gets sensory overload. He constantly wears earbuds. He has an extremely rigid sense of morality and considers himself a savior figure. He has a hard time relating to other people and is a bit awkward in his interactions."

#tumblr polls #autistic anime boys poll #prelims #kiriwo ami #welcome to demon school! iruma-kun #arjuna #fate grand order #sherlock holmes #moriarty the patriot #apollo justice #ace attorney #heiji hattori #detective conan #urara #tsuritama #shu kurenai #beyblade burst #vash the stampede #trigun #hyakkimaru #dororo #kei miyama #paradox live

[eroguron0nsense]

Garp Rant #11543

Because I'm something of a Certified Garp Hater/extremely obsessed with this man, and because Tumblr people seem to like my Garp takes and/or find them extremely pain-inducing, here's another one for funsies! Again, Garp is an incredibly written character and I massively enjoy his moral failings and human shortcomings, hence why I won't shut up about how much he sucks. So we all remember Garp crying in front of Ace during his imprisonment and awaiting his execution, lamenting the fact that his son and grandson could have maybe avoided this horrible horrible fate that awaits them at Marineford if they'd just become good marines like he'd tried to press them into. Every time he says it, he sounds more desperate, sadder, and angrier, like he's experiencing the stages of grief and going through denial, anger bargaining all at once, lashing out at his grandkids for supposedly causing him grief by defying his wishes, or maybe praying or wishing for a world where they could have followed in his footsteps and lived happily ever after. And when Ace hears that again at Impel Down, he says this:

Here's the thing though: Ace is unequivocally correct Garp should, by all rights, know this. He lived through the fallout of Roger's execution. He knew long before that exactly what would happen to Roger's loved ones and anyone the government could get their hands on who'd ever associated with him. Even before they started committing femicides/infanticides in Baterilla trying to end Roger's bloodline, he knew that the Marines were going to target completely innocent people in the name of purging the bloodline and cementing their "victory" over the greatest threat they'd ever faced. He specifically had to smuggle Rouge out of there so she could give birth to Ace, and all the while dozens of families were being brutalized by his peers and having their lives torn apart. That was the cost the Marines were willing to incur to kill a hypothetical infant, and years later, when that very same child is set to be executed, Sengoku goes on a remorseless public tirade about the necessity of killing babies and the horrible trickery and audacity Rouge displayed by dying so that they wouldn't kill her baby too.

Garp knows every single piece of this information in painful, excruciating detail. He's so horrified by it he feels the need to fulfill this wish of Roger's because he knows blameless people will die. He has Ace raised in secret to protect him from Marines who are figuratively and literally out for his blood. And yet, throughout this boy's childhood, he clings to the notion that maybe, just maybe, the people he knows regularly commit atrocities, who have carried out at least 3 genocides that we know of in Garp's lifetime, who were willing to commit mass infanticide for a woman and child they hadn't verified the existence or identity of at the time, would have accepted him within their ranks and turned a blind eye to that information when it eventually, inevitably surfaced. That Ace can find salvation from the people who stole every loved one he ever had before he was even born, who slaughtered his mother's community and pushed her to her death, and were slavering at the opportunity to kill her. That even though Ace was born in direct opposition to them, has had a target trained on him before he was born, these people who tried so goddamn hard to kill him would surely welcome his presence and not murder him the second they found out if he could just be a compliant model soldier and make himself useful. It's hammered home pretty effectively–especially in the manga– and One Piece has never been known to be subtle in its messaging, but I swear to God I see so many people echoing the notion that Garp's attempts to force his grandchildren into serving the Evil Empire was done because he knew was their only shot at safety from the WG, and I fucking despise this take. Ace saying that he could never be a marine here in Impel Down isn't some young man's rationalization for his (beyond valid) desire not to subscribe to the preset path Garp laid out for him; it's literally the only logical conclusion if you know literally anything about the circumstances of his birth and upbringing, and Garp only thinks that the leopards wouldn't eat Ace's face because he's fucking delusional This in and of itself is extremely telling of how horribly warped Garp's perception of the Navy is, and how deeply he's willing to buy into the Marines and their warped propaganda no matter how many glaring examples he sees throughout his life that counter his worldview, but let's not forget that this applies to Luffy too. This is slightly hairier, in that if Luffy was a) the sort of person who could willingly accept a career in the marines and b) managed to cling really, really tightly to his grandfather's coattails and legacy, there might have been a very, infinitesimally small chance that he could have joined the Navy. The higher ups know that Dragon is Garp's son and therefore Luffy is Dragon's by logical inference, but I could see some AU where Luffy is a fundamentally different person and manages to build himself up in the Navy if not for two things I think warrant examination. It's pretty evident, and Dragon explicitly confirms, that Luffy being known as his son would have put him in incredible danger, only feeling comfortable with acknowledging it and the possibility of actually reuniting with his child after Luffy was both publicly recognized due to factors beyond his control, and proved that he was more than capable of holding his own. But I want to draw attention to this one otherwise pretty silly little gag moment between Garp and Sengoku when they learn that Luffy's broken into Impel Down, and present a theory that's kind of a reach but also not really

Now the phrasing here kind of interests me, in that it ties back to earlier demonstrated patterns that the Navy uses repeatedly in collective punishment for the families and loved ones of their primary targets. Rouge and Ace barely escaped the mass murders intended for them because of their connection, but Tom was also originally sentenced to death for having had a connection to Roger, and ultimately chose that as the offence he wanted to be sentenced for at Enies Lobby. Law, as a child survivor of Flevance, has multiple hospitals try and turn him in to the World Government to be killed when Cora tries to find someone to treat him because their policy is to pull out the roots and salt the earth whenever they deem a person or population politically inconvenient. Robin's flashback shows us Akainu blowing up a refugee boat on the off chance that one of those people that they were planning to evacuate might have gotten past their initial screening for archaeologists/poneglyph readers. At Marineford, Akainu specifically targets Luffy not because of his prior offences or even his attempt to rescue Ace, but because he's Dragon's son and his and Roger's bloodlines need to be eradicated. This is not an institution that is in any way reluctant to destroy anyone tangentially affiliated to a designated enemy, and Luffy being the son of the worst criminal in history seems to put him right in line with all of those other cases. In light of this, and Garp's massive blind spots and wishful thinking regarding his peers and employers, it's not that much of a stretch to assume that the only reason Garp's exempt from being targeted like Dragon is because of his popularity/symbolic importance/utility, and that Luffy likely wouldn't have been safe even if he weren't a pirate. Garp's circle of confidantes/friends in high places is powerful, but clearly there are factions (Akainu, Ryokugyu etc) that would be substantially less willing and who are given preferential treatment by the Elders and Celestial Dragons. There might be something to read into based on the fact that Garp is the only known person from a D bloodline who's achieved massive success in service to the World Government and not defected from the Navy after realizing its true nature (props to Saul), and therefore he might project the fact that he's been rewarded by the system despite being a "sworn enemy of the Gods" onto his family, but that still doesn't account for the massive, delusional arrogance he displays in insisting that, despite everything–especially, especially the murders committed in pursuit of Ace, that robbed him of his birth mother and community–the Navy is the best and safest place for either of those boys. TLDR Garp not wanting his grandsons to have a bounties on their heads is one thing, but it says a lot that in spite of everything he knows, he's willing/determined to put Ace and Luffy in an environment that's extremely dangerous for them –and in Ace's case 100%, unquestionably fatal– because he's so convinced that compliance and the platonic ideals of "justice" and military service/hard work being rewarded by the system could supersede all of that.

#monkey d luffy #one piece #portgas d ace #marineford #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #nico robin #monkey d garp #monkey d dragon #sengoku the buddha #akainu sakazuki #admiral akainu #portgas d rouge #marineford arc #one piece spoilers #op spoilers #jaguar d. saul

[yaksha-lover]

Hey! How are you doing? I don’t know how dark you’re willing to go, but the angst brainrot is back and I guess I just need somewhere to ramble.

Sometimes I like to think about how the prefect’s super chill reactions to… well everything, could just be a carefully crafted facade. I mean, the students at NRC are kinda awful people, and I don’t doubt any weakness would be swarmed like vultures to a fresh corpse. And a magicless, naive person like Yuu would be an extremely easy target. So, instead they just bury all the pain and pretend everything is okay. They’re not crying for their family and home late into the night.

The way that kind of repression would just build up over the year and slowly cause resentment towards everyone, deserved or not, is just delicious. Pretending to be everyone’s friend, to be the kind and welcoming prefect while coming to hate the other students’ guts. The eventual snap after one misplaced comment or one more mess to deal with, when the house of cards all falls down.

Maybe Rollo was right.

Idk, just got a lot of thoughts. Mainly based off of how Rook calls the prefect “Trickster” and the prologue almost framed Yuu in a strategist role. Thoughts?

Honestly, it would make a lot of sense. As much as we love the boys, most of them would be pretty terrible to be around and are very selfish and/or mean (with some exceptions, but that’s still a good majority of the school).

I like the idea that Yuu does start out genuinely wanting to help everyone and find people to be friends with, to try and make this experience of being trapped in another world even somewhat bearable.

At first it’s okay that Ace is a jerk sometimes, because he comes around once you get to know him. It’s fine that Riddle nitpicks and punishes the three of you because in the end, he’s trying his best to get better, to heal from his past. It’s alright that Leona is unrepentant and mean, because he has things he’s been dealing with, and you need to be understanding of his pain. Even when Azul tricks your friends and later you, when you almost lose your Ramshackle, the one place you’ve had to call home, you try to have patience, because he’s got his own issues as well, he has his reasons for things.

But somewhere along the way, you’ve stopped caring for their excuses. Their trauma is real, but so is yours. Even after everything you’ve done to try and help them, you don’t doubt for a moment that none of them would run to your rescue. That they wouldn’t take any opportunity to step on and over you if it meant getting closer to their goals. Because at the end of the day, none of them cared, no matter how much you wanted to believe it wasn’t true.

Breaking down isn’t an option - not when everyone is out for themselves, when your feelings would surely only be ridiculed at best and taken advantage of at worst. Even more than that, you’re a guest at this school. You never earned your way here like the other students and you’re magicless; the only reason you’re even here are extenuating circumstances. The headmage isn’t any more loyal than the housewardens - if any of them had a problem with you, it wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine he’d throw you out onto the street the second you became an inconvenience that was too much work to handle. So you keep quiet, even when all you want is to tell off everyone around you.

The only housewarden to ever seem to really give a damn about you is Vil, but by the time you get close with him, it’s already too late. Maybe if you met him first, if you’d been less scorned, you could’ve forgiven his little digs at your lacklustre presence and imperfection. He’d done much to try and make up for it after all, helping you out with Ramshackle and voicing his appreciation for you. It was more than you could say for anyone else, but it still isn’t enough. Vil’s sweetness can’t counteract the bitter taste that’s been brewing for months, so you can’t bring yourself to forgive him despite everything.

It’s not his fault, but it’s never anyone’s fault. It’s all of them, chipping away at your sanity little by little.

It’s okay that you can never fall asleep anymore, kept awake by memories of never ending fights and catastrophes to deal with. It’s okay that the same people you’ve helped barely regard you as more than something worth pitying. It’s okay that you’re reminded every day that no effort is being put towards getting you away from this hellhole and back home.

It’s all okay, until it’s not. Until Yuu finally reaches their breaking point, and starts to question if anyone is truly worth saving at this school.

#twst x reader #twst yuu #twst #twisted wonderland

[cozage]

The Daughter's Return Part 3

Chapter 26: Thereafter

Start From Beginning | Table of Contents | Read on AO3

Characters: female reader x Portgas D. Ace Word Count: 1k AN: This is more of an epilogue of sorts. There's not a lot of dialogue, but it does kind of wrap everything up. I really have enjoyed writing this, and I hope you have enjoyed it as well :) thanks for a fun time and a great ride. I could say 5,000 more things about this fic and how much I love you for supporting it, but let's finish this up :)

It had taken Ace a few days to make the house liveable, but plenty of people had opened their homes for you to stay in while you all finished the essential repairs. They never made you feel like a burden, and even though you tried to keep to yourselves, they were eager to get to know you.

You had expected to pay for all the tools you needed, but the townsfolk on this island were kind and generous. Several families had lent Ace tools, and some had even come by to offer their help. Even though you were on a hill outside of town, people dropped in throughout the day, bringing baked goods or hand-sewn linens as welcoming gifts. 

So much for privacy. You had more of it in your shared bunkhouse on the Moby Dick. 

But you didn’t find yourself irritated by the townspeople’s check-ins. While most of them asked basic questions about your past and eyed Ace’s scarred back, they never pried. And even better, they always seemed to know when it was time to leave. 

After a few weeks, you had fallen into a strange pattern of familiarity. Even as your belly grew bigger, you tried your best to help Ace as much as you could every day. In the morning, you would get up and make him coffee. He would always scold you, claiming that you were the one who was supposed to be pampered right now, but he continued to allow you to do it for now. 

You all would eat a quick breakfast, and then begin to work on house improvements. The morning was the best time to work, since it was still cool out. The two of you patched up holes in the walls and began to decorate the inside of your little two-bedroom cabin. The projects never seemed to end.

And every morning while you worked, Mr. Cheddle would deliver a newspaper, and you would invite him in for breakfast. If he declined, you would send him some kind of snack to thank him for bringing the paper up the hill. You knew he didn’t mind, but you still felt obligated to send him away with something. 

You’d leave Ace to go make lunch, and usually find some variety of baked goods on the counter from someone welcoming you to the town. You often found yourself wondering if people would ever stop sending you things, or if you would become someone who baked for your neighbors just for the hell of it. 

At lunch, you would read the paper and update Ace on anything interesting. Afterwards, the two of you would typically walk to town together to find something to do. Some days you would shop, others you would go your separate ways. Whether it was tea with Arabelle, or a walk in the park with Crilly and her three dogs, or even sitting at Sellie-Tien’s shop and catching up on gossip, you always found something to do. 

And as the sun set, you and Ace would walk back up the hill, talking of your time spent apart, and even stopping to chat with others along the road. 

What a strange life you were living. How mundane it all was. And yet…perfect. 

On one particular day it had been too hot for you to work, even in the morning. And with nothing to do, you decided to read the News Coo early. You kept your eyes peeled for any words of Luffy, but there had been no news of him since his stunt at Marineford. 

However, today there was far more interesting news on the front page. One you had been waiting for. 

One about Portgas D. Ace.

“You’re dead!” You cheered, holding up the News Coo to show Ace. 

Ace dropped his tools and ran over to you, reading it over quickly. 

“They made a grave for me and everything,” he said. “Impressive.” 

“It helps that they took your hat,” you mentioned. He pouted at the thought. 

“I’m gonna miss that hat.” He handed the paper back to you. “What about you?”

“Still nothing.” You read through the article once again just to make sure you hadn’t skipped anything. “I doubt they’ll officially say I’m dead.”

“Really?” Ace asked. “Why’s that?”

“Because they reported it wrong once,” you admitted, setting the paper down. “They can’t do that again. Can you imagine the embarrassment?”

“But they won’t bother us here.” Ace looked out over the ocean. “They don’t have jurisdiction.”

“That’s why Marco chose it for us,” you said. “It’s quiet. Out of the way. Nobody will bother us. It’s perfect.”

“Seems like a more than fair trade off,” Ace said, and you nodded in agreement. 

“We finally get to have our happily ever after.”

Ace smiled at you, kissing your cheek. “And I can’t wait to spend it with you. Our perfect little family.”

---

Sengoku stared long and hard at a small piece of paper with little hearts doodled all over. Against everything that he knew and had been told, the card sat between his fingers in perfect condition. 

Garp walked into the room, full of drive and purpose. “Listen Sengoku, I need to tell you something. I-“

“I know,” he said. “You’re going to retire. But before you turn in that resignation letter, I want to give you something.”

Sengoku handed off the piece of paper covered with hearts. “Do with this what you will. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve never seen it.”

Garp examined it, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the name written across it in perfect cursive. Ace. 

“Where did you get this?”

“We took it off Portgas D. Ace when he arrived at Impel Down.  We thought it belonged to him, but that must not be the case, since he’s dead now.”

Garp held the card in his hand carefully. The paper slowly inched away from him. “So who’s it belong to then?”

“Probably nobody,” Sengoku shrugged. “I’m about to retire myself, and that little scrap of paper seems like a lot of paperwork and a lot of personal investigation. I just don’t have it in me. Especially for some pirate who we all saw die. Take it off my hands for me. Do something with it, just don’t tell me what. As a favor.”

“Yes sir,” Garp said, tears in his eyes. “Thank you.”

“No Garp,” Sengoku said. “Thank you.”

--

Tag list! @taeyoge @teiza @tojislawyer @trafalgardnami @bloopbopsblog @dancingnewcat @dxestyi @flooofity @nyxthedragon01 @deadsnothere @h-rhodes1598  @morgyyyyyyy @trafalgardvivi  @fiestynatureweeb @frogpogjoghurt @beepboopcowboy @ms-portgas @luvyallbabes @appalost @zuchkaa @saybeyonce @stray-npc @kitsunechan707 @theyluvmesblog @heartysworld @aira-needs-sleep  @mothmomjay @ophelias-flowerss @aqualein @sehyojae @fanficwriter5 @forgotten-blues @amberash05 @firefistnoct @depressed-but-make-it-cute @stuckinthewrongworld@lizpoir

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas ace x you #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace x y/n #ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #cozage #✧˚ace✧˚

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

The Good Queen (Part 3)

(Gif not mine)

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing(s): Viserys Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Harwin Strong x Alicent Hightower, Harwin Strong x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Alicent Hightower, Daemon Targaryen x Harwin Strong (I won’t apologize for everyone being gay for each other)

Tag: hotd the good queen

Warning: Fluff. Angst. Time-skip. Happy ending. Age gaps. No feud. No greens or blacks. Blood & Gore. Grusome death.

Word Count: 7,011

Taglist: @gruffle1​ 

Summary: A look into Queen Y/n Hightower’s life is busy and full of love and family. But something else lingers in the dark, waiting for her.

Author’s Note: Laena still dies but under different circumstances and Aemond claims Vhagar honorably. Rhaena and Baela do not exist so everyone is proud of Aemond by his accomplishment and he doesn’t steal the right to Vhagar from anyone.

Part One - Part Two

(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)

130 AC

So much to do with so little time to enjoy the beautiful day, Queen Y/n Hightower makes her rounds about the castle after breaking her fast. As usual, she walks gracefully down the long hallways and winding staircases, entering the throne room to extend her greetings to her husband before starting her day. She climbs the stairs to the Iron Throne and leaves a kiss on Viserys lips before briefly exchanging their morning agendas. As usual, they speak mostly of their children. The Queen speaks of the planned events for Helaena's upcoming name day while the King mentions the many lords who have reached out to him to ask for Helaena's hand. Y/n appeared hesitant but further asked her husband to send these letters up to her chambers when he has the chance so she might look into these suitors as well.

"They may try to woo her during the celebration," he warns her lightheartedly, "Best to warn her so she is not overwhelmed."

"I shall," Y/n stands from her seat on Viserys' knee, cupping his face in her hand before she makes her departure, "I'll see you at supper."

"Hm. I'm afraid I have to take supper in the Small Council meeting tonight," the King smiles apologetically, "But you are welcome to join. I could use your sharp eyes on the matter of the meeting."

"Not tonight," Y/n sighs at the idea of another council meeting. They appear to be more crucial than naught these days, "If it would please you, my love, allow me to rummage through all the letters of liege lords addressing Helaena's hand. I'll invite Princess Rhaenyra and Lady Alicent for supper tonight in my apartments and use their opinions to narrow down the pool of suitors."

"Excellent idea," Viserys beamed, quickly grasping her hand and kissing her knuckles before she could turn away, "I wish you luck."

She descends the Iron Throne and exits the throne room, nodding to her ladies-in-waiting when she found them still in the spot where she had left them. They dutifully follow her as she expertly navigates through the long hallways of the castle, bowing her head and smiling whenever someone stopped and bowed to her in greeting. She stops in the training yard before all else and immediately spots Ser Criston Cole overseeing a training session between Aegon the Elder and his cousin, Jacaerys Strong. She glides down the steps and makes her way to the sworn shield, "What shall they be learning today, Ser Criston?"

"Mostly defensive maneuvers, Your Grace," Cole bows, but is unable to draw his eyes away from the fight in case he missed something, "Aegon has improved since his return from Oldtown. Do give your lord father my compliments. Whoever he had training the boy during his stay must have been quite exceptional."

"I shall," she finds herself repeating a second time, to her inner amusement. Her shoulders began to feel tight with the reminder of Otto Hightower.

When he first started writing letters to his eldest daughter, it was to reach out and learn about his grandchildren. Y/n should have felt relief to learn that her father was wanting to mend their relationship. Instead, she only felt this cold dread in her heart when she learned that he had only written to her and not to Alicent, who was also his daughter and had given him an equal number of grandchildren. Y/n tried to be courteous and kind to her father in any returning letter she sent, and yet each one he replied with felt more like a stone crushing her against the sea bed, despite feeling the light weight of the paper in her hands. Eventually, Lord Otto requested to host his oldest grandchild, Aegon, in Oldtown. His reasoning was for personal reasons only; to make up for lost time and congratulate Aegon on becoming a man. Otto also stated that perhaps it would be good for both Aegon and Daeron to reunite again as brothers. Y/n had hesitated before finally agreeing, despite the memories she had of her father when Aegon was first born. She remembered Lord Otto trying to force her hand, telling her how to raise her sweet, innocent son into becoming a king.

She gave her father the benefit of the doubt. That had been years ago and she agreed that Aegon deserved to see his little brother again, her own ache to see Daeron the deciding factor on this arrangement. She sent Aegon to Oldtown, promising him that it would only be for the season. Her inner demons wished to demand her eldest child to steal Daeron away as well, but forced the words down and bury them as she hugged Aegon tightly. Now Aegon has finally returned -and not with Daeron- just before Helaena's name day. The Queen watched her son easily defend himself against Lord Jacaerys' advances, feeling proud and yet in turmoil over how mature he's become. Her children really were growing up before her eyes.

She nods to Ser Criston, "I'm sure he would be proud to hear you say that, ser knight. Excuse me."

"Your Grace."

Next, she makes her way to the gardens, taking a moment to stand in the warm sunlight with the soft breeze brushing through her hair like a loving touch. The Queen takes her time winding through the maze of flowers and trimmed hedges until she comes across the gazebo stationed at the center of all the plants. Her sister, Lady Alicent Strong, is seated under the shade of the gazebo, Little Aegon in her lap while Little Viserys crawls around at her feet, her hand gently grazing the woman sitting beside her.

Princess Rhaenyra, heavily pregnant with her third child, is the first to notice Y/n when she neared the gazebo, and smiles at her stepmother, "Good morning, Your Grace."

Alicent looks up and immediately finds Y/n, only pulling her hand away from Rhaenyra when she noticed the Queen's handmaidens trailing behind her. Y/n nods as she approached the two women, "It certainly is, Princess," her fingers briefly push a strand of Alicent's hair out of her face before leaning down and kissing her cheek in greeting, "Ali. Jacaerys is faring well in his training, I see."

"If only he was doing well in his studies," Alicent quips with a gentle smile as she stares up at her elder sister, who takes Aegon from her arms and rests him on her hip, "What brings you here?"

"I am here to invite the two of you to a private supper tonight," Y/n tickles Aegon the Younger under his chin, smiling as he squealed with laughter, though it doesn't reach her eyes as she spoke of her troubles, "I have letters from various lords of the realm who wish to wed Helaena and I could use your help reading through them all, as well as getting a second and third opinion."

"Of course," Alicent beams, although Rhaenyra doesn't seem as thrilled.

"Helaena is still too young to be thinking about marriage," she immediately replies, a frown cutting through her beautiful Valyrian features. She is distracted by her thoughts, however, when Little Viserys pulls himself up onto his chubby feet using her skirts. Her hand brushes his silver hair back, the toddler cooing under her attention.

"She's near one-and-twenty, Rhaenyra," Y/n appeared downcast, even as she smiled down at her stepdaughter and squeezed her shoulder in comfort, "You were even younger. We all were. We've been holding this back for long enough. We can't keep her forever."

The Queen knelt down to the princess' round stomach, peering up at Rhaenyra with an encouraging twinkle in her eye, "Besides, pretty soon you'll have a daughter of your own to fret over."

Rhaenyra faintly smiled, running a hand over her stomach even as clouds formed in her eyes. She had always wanted a sister and finally got what she wanted when her father married Y/n and they bore Helaena. Rhaenyra was always so protective of her little half-sister, even more so than the brothers, "You speak in confidence. And yet Alicent believes I'm having a boy."

"You look no different than when you carried Little Aegon and Viserys," Alicent comments in defense of her opinion when Y/n glanced over to her.

"We'll make wages tonight then, at dinner," Y/n smirked at her sister, briefly glancing back at Rhaenyra and winking. The Queen sets Aegon down next to his brother and stands up straight again, nodding to the other two, "Until then, my sweets."

"Good day, Your Grace," Rhaenyra chimes while Y/n disappears from the gazebo, her ladies keeping their heads low as they follow her.

She trails through the gardens with her usual company in tow, wishing to waste a little time if it meant she could enjoy the lovely, quiet day. That is until the peace is suddenly interrupted by the loud, high-pitched laughter of a small child. Looking around, Her Grace tried pinpointing the laughter, which now followed shouts of disapproval, until she discovers Little Joffrey Strong, the small boy running through the gardens while being chased by his septa, dark curls bouncing as he sprinted. Y/n laughs under her breath and decides not to intervene, knowing that not even she could save her little nephew from his strict teacher. The Queen shushes her handmaids when they all began to giggle at the sight, and with a smile, directs them to exit the gardens quietly until they are out of sight of the poor, winded, septa. The ladies all bow to their queen and go on about their day, leaving Y/n alone to her thoughts as she walks back into the castle.

The library is the next stop on her to-do list, allowing the guards to open the heavy doors for her before entering the grand room, full of books from top to ceiling. However, she didn't find herself alone as she originally thought. At the nearest table were none other than her son, Aemond and Lucerys Strong, playing a competitive game of cyvasse. Both young men look up at the sound of the library doors opening and stand to greet her when they recognized her face.

"Mother," Aemond thinly smiles, his eye lowering in respect.

"Who is winning?" She smirks as she glides across the floor to join them, her fingers pinching the sleeve of Aemond's tunic as she practically stood in the shadow of his tall form.

"Currently me, Your Grace," Luke's eyes sparkle mischievously, his smile only broadening when Aemond directs a small glare at him.

Y/n rolls her lips to try to retain the growing smile of amusement before crossing over to the board game, peering over either side of the divider so she can see both sides of their placements. Turning and walking away, she calls over her shoulder, "Careful, nephew. If he's smart, Aemond can defeat you in two moves."

She hears scuffling and squawks of surprise from behind her as she disappeared beyond the bookcases, smiling to herself. She travels through the small aisles between shelves until she finds what she's looking for, picking up a book to her liking and dusting off the worn cover. Tucking the leather book under her arm, she makes her way back through the maze of books until she stumbles across her son and nephew again. Y/n ruffles Luke's hair, earning another squawk of indignant from him and causing Aemond to hum in amusement under his breath, much similar to his mother. Y/n beams and walks out of the library and onto her next destination.

Walking back up the winding stairs to reach the floor of her daughter's chambers was an easy feat, having gone the same way for years since Helaena's birth. Today, however, Y/n's feet felt heavy as she inched closer to the princess' room. Her steps felt like lead by the time she reached her daughter's door, knocking and announcing herself before entering.

"My heart?" Y/n called into the room as she shut the door behind her.

Helaena had her knees up to her chest, lounging over her couch by the window, heavily focused on the embroidery in her hands. Y/n walked closer and recognized the pattern to be a dragonfly. The mother smiled as she goes to sit in the open space of her daughter's couch, relaxing her regal posture as she leaned back against the cushions, sighing in exhaustion as she watches Helaena work.

Their days together are often spent like this, in silence but in comfort. Helaena isn't fond of loud noises, touches, or even conversation, so Y/n respects her boundaries and tends not to force her daughter into such situations unless absolutely necessary. This is why guilt and shame settled uncomfortably in the Queen's gut, the weight of letters regarding a future husband for her lovely daughter heavy before Y/n could even read them herself. Even though she had not seen the letters in person yet, they still lingered in the back of her mind, dreading the conversation that will have to happen, and the celebrations of her name day that Helaena will have to attend.

"Has your uncle stopped by for your lessons?" Y/n suddenly asked, realizing that she had not seen Daemon at all this morning.

Helaena paused in her ministrations but continues to stare at her embroidery as she answered, "He left early. Kostōba vali emagon kostōba ondos." [Strong men have strong hands]

Though the Queen herself was not fluent in High Valyrian, she has spent enough time in the company of Daemon and Rhaenyra to catch a few words. Y/n tilts her head, suspicious, "Does 'kostōba' mean 'strong?'"

Helaena only nods as she continues her work, unaware of the playful roll of her eyes her mother presents. Y/n sinks further into the lounge chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. One of these days, she'll have to reprimand her brother-in-law for leaving his niece and depriving her of Valyrian lessons only so he could sneak off with Ser "Breakbones" Strong.

"My daughter's mother tongue should be more important than the need to stick your tongue down Ser Harwin's throat," Y/n could already hear her own lecture in her head, to which she can imagine Daemon's sly smirk gleaming down at her in response.

"Have you seen Ser Harwin's throat, dear sister?"

Y/n scoffs out loud and had the decency to appear bashful when she realized that Helaena had heard her. She flashed her daughter an apologetic smile when the princess looked up, but it slowly faded once Helaena looked back down, the Queen was sorely reminded of the main topic of today's events. Sighing, Y/n reached a hand out to Helaena, "My dear, may I touch you?"

Helaena immediately went stiff as a board, to which Y/n retracted her hand, "Okay, I'm sorry," she whispered, guilt now evident in her eyes, not that Helaena had noticed as she continues with her embroidery. It only made her mother feel worse, the woman who once loved her innocence but now felt saddened by it. Helaena is a woman grown now, and it was still hard for Y/n to wrap her head around. How can something so pure grow up so fast? Just trying to picture her daughter in the care of a man whom she has never met frightened her; haunted her even. Y/n, as Queen, understands that this is the way of things and no matter how hard she tried, there are just some things far beyond her control, like her daughter's impending marriage. It will happen eventually, whether Y/n Hightower likes it or not.

Originally, she came to Helaena to talk about these matters but decided she wanted her child to remain innocent just a little bit longer. Instead, Y/n set the book from the library down on the table across from the couch and slid it over to Helaena, "This was a book that I read years ago... before I married your father. It's about these rare butterflies native to the islands of Naath. They carry a disease that is deadly to anyone who isn't born and bred from their natural habitats," Y/n huffs in mirth, mostly to herself, "I remember that imagery kept me awake at night, but I thought this would be more to your liking."

Helaena had paused her embroidery upon her mother's explanation. The princess peers over to the book with faint interest and reaches out to caress the symbol of the butterfly engraved into the front cover, "Thank you, Mother."

Y/n beams, feeling her heart skip a beat at the sound of her most proud title. Even as her children grow into adults, she still feels her heart melt every time they call her by her true name. Aegon says it as if he mocks it, but in a playful way. Aemond says it with respect and admiration and with a hint of a smile. Helaena says it softly, like a butterfly's wing. And Daeron...

The Queen quickly shuts her thoughts down and rises from the couch, patting the cushion closest to Helaena's foot, "I'll leave you to it then. If you miss dinner, I'll make sure a meal is sent up to you."

She moves around the furniture and heads toward the door.

"Mother."

Y/n looks back, smiling patiently as she waits for Helaena to continue.

The young princess doesn't look up from her new book, speaking in riddles as she often does. But today, her riddle felt haunting, almost like a warning, "A sire wishes to breathe fire. Fire burns to skin, and his eldest breeds it."

Puzzled as she often is by Helaena's riddles, Y/n tries not to let it bother her. Over the years, she had learned to stop asking Helaena what she means and has stopped trying to understand her. Sometimes, even Helaena appears confused by what her own words mean. When she started saying these riddles, Viserys took it as a sign that she was a dragon dreamer, much like himself. Daemon had rolled his eyes and had started an argument with his brother for the sake of an argument, so Y/n never try to investigate further what her husband meant.  

Instead of asking her to reiterate, Y/n only nods to Helaena before leaving the room, taking a longer route toward her own apartments so that she might have a little more to walk and think alone. The time it takes for her to get to her chambers is peaceful and the hallways are empty except for the occasional maid walking in or out of rooms to fetch or retrieve clothes or food. Ser Harrold Westerling is waiting outside of Y/n's room when she arrives, and after he opens the door for her, the Queen turns back to him, "You may leave, Ser Harrold. Please see to it that no one bothers the Princess Helaena while she reads."

"At once, Your Grace," Harrold bows and marches down the hall, and Y/n closes the door behind her.

A late afternoon nap was in order, but Y/n knew better than to try when she still had so much to do. Looking around, she found the stacks of letters she had asked the King for and crossed the room to the table. She picks up one of the letters, inspected the contents, and made out the name Prince Qoren Martell.

"Absolutely not," Y/n found herself talking out loud, laughing at the gall of House Martell. She decided that all suitors she didn't approve of will have their letters burned immediately so her husband would not see them, lest he tried to marry their daughter off without her knowledge. She sauntered over to the hearth and watched the letter burn in the small flames, still amused but faintly disgusted at the idea of Helaena being sent to Dorne. The embers of the hearth appeared to mock her, the andirons; the two tall bracket spikes supporting the logs from falling into the room were shaped suspiciously like a Sunspeare. Y/n doesn't try to think about how her andirons were probably forged in Dorne and instead focused on watching the letter burn.

She hears rustling behind her and turned to face the maid she expected to find. Instead, a knife is pressed into her neck, and a hand grips tightly onto her arm. Y/n lets out a squeak of shock, reflexes kicking in as her free hand tries to push the knife away from her. The attacker is male, close to her own height, and reeked of filth. He doesn't demand or restrain her, instead, he speaks in grunts and growls as he fights with every intention of killing her.

"HELP! GUARDS!" Y/n screams at the top of her lungs once her brain had caught up with her body, still trying to push the dagger out of the way. He pushed back with equal strength and determination, with Y/n's own adrenaline turning quickly into fear and causing her arms to tremble. Her breaths quicken as she can feel herself slowly go into shock, limbs heavy and slowly giving into the weight of the knife. At one point, she tried to pull away and run when her legs began to feel like jelly, but her attacker had a hold of one of her arms, so she had no choice but to continue to fight for her life. As they both spun in this twisted dance, Y/n quickly realized that the hearth now stood directly behind her attacker. Sucking in a deep breath with every bit of strength she had left, she shoved the man hard, even trying to place her foot behind his to trip him for added measure.

The man falls, knife sliding like butter down Y/n's forearm in the descent. Before the assassin could place his hands behind him to stop his fall, his head hits the mantle above the hearth and he crumbles in pain, forgetting to fight against gravity as his body drops into the hearth. His neck, unfortunately, lands right on top of one of the andiron spikes, spearing through flesh and bone. He spits out blood, gurgling, choking on the red liquid as he slowly realizes he was trapped with his head sticking directly into the flames. As he spat out blood, his whole body convulsed and writhed in response to his entire head beginning to catch fire, unable to escape with his neck completely skewered onto the spike. His eyebrows turned to ash, and his skin began to blister and melt, his body twitched and kicked for freedom, even as the heat of the flames forced his skin to sizzle and pop like a boar on a spit. The smell was unbearable as Y/n quickly steps away, only to fall to her knees on the floor when she found no strength left, tears uncontrollably rolling down her face. All she could do was cling to her injured arm and watch, horrified, as her attacker's body slowly stopped fighting, going limp as the fire somehow burned brighter. The Queen tried gasping for air, her entire body shaking out of fear and pain just as the doors burst open to reveal the Kingsguard.

"My Queen!" Harrold Westerling had returned, immediately running to Y/n's side while his men inspect the scene before them. Ser Harrold guides her to the nearest furniture and inspects Her Majesty's injuries while a maester was called forward. Between the bustling of the guards and the shouting involved, other residents of the castle began to stir with all this commotion.

The first to arrive was Alicent, with Rhaenyra slowly following her in her condition. Alicent looked around the room, horrified by the man lying dead in the fireplace before she scanned the apartments and quickly found her sister, "Y/n!"

She rushed over to the Queen, gathering her up in her arms as they both wept in fright and relief. Rhaenyra excused Ser Harrold from attending Y/n so that she may sit on the other side of her stepmother and hold her close. The Grand Maester finally arrived and quickly made good, efficient work on the Queen's arm as Daemon marched into the room, sneering at the scene of the crime. He looked as though he wished to spit onto the dead body before releasing his anger elsewhere.

"Who was meant to be on watch here?! Who failed to protect the Queen?!"

"It was me, Prince Daemon," Ser Harrold bowed his head in shame.

Daemon only takes two steps towards the knight before Y/n finally found her words, even as she stumbles over them, "N-No, Daemon! It was not his fault! I... I... I ordered him to go tend to Helaena. I made him leave his station."

Her brother-in-law relents after a while of the two of them staring down one another, stepping away from Ser Harrold and moving to stand behind the three women on the couch, "Has my brother been informed? Is someone with him?"

"Ser Criston is guarding the King, my prince. He's on his way."

"Mother?" Aegon calls out from the doorway, only walking into the room when the sea of knights part for him to see the Queen alive and well. Jace also walks in with him, leading his father, Ser Harwin, to inspect the scene for himself.

"I did not realize I was hosting in my chambers," Y/n muttered under her breath, wincing when the maester added yet another stitch to the cut. However, her irritation melts away when her eldest son approached her, reaching out to him with her free hand, "I'm alright, my sweet. Have you seen your brother and sister?"

"Your daughter is safe in her room, Your Grace," Ser Harrold cut in, "I left a guard with her."

"And Aemond? Last I saw, he was in the library with Lucerys."

"I'll go get them," Harwin volunteered after a pleading gaze from his lady-wife Alicent. He quickly heads towards the door only to stop short and bow as Viserys finally enters, his cane trembling in support of him.

"What is the meaning of this?" The King demands as everyone bows in his presence, all except his family members sitting on or surrounding the couch. Viserys turns to his family, inspecting each of their expressions before settling on his queen, "And why is my wife bleeding?"

"There was an assassination attempt, Your Grace," Ser Harrold quickly reports with a ramrod back. Ser Harwin finally leaves the room after nodding to his father and Ser Criston when they entered the Queen's chambers. Hand of the King, Lord Lyonel Strong, steps up to stand beside the King, appalled and worried.

"An assassin? How is this possible?" He questions.

"I did not recognize his face," Y/n answers, her voice now stronger with her family surrounding her. Her back straightens and she now looks onto Lord Lyonel with the fierceness of a queen once more, "I pride myself in knowing every staff member in my employment, and I have never seen that man before in my life."

"It will be hard to identify him now, Your Grace," Ser Harrold continues to address Viserys while also moving aside to show the King the horrifying sight of the death. Viserys' eyes widen at the body stuck in the hearth from the neck up. He looks at his wife and then back to the body, affronted and speechless. In this time of the King taking it all in, Ser Harwin returns with Prince Aemond and Lord Lucerys, both young men striding across the room to join their respective family members. Aemond stands beside his older brother, standing over their mother as he inspects her appearance with only his single eye. He didn't speak a word, and yet confessed he was afraid by looks alone.

Alicent felt the need to stand and pace, and by doing so, caught a glimpse of the dead body and noticed, to her horror, his attire, "He wears our house colors," turning back to her older sister, Alicent recognized the equal shock spreading over Y/n's face, "Could this man be from Oldtown?"

Y/n's shoulders fall, a faint look of acceptance written in her sad eyes, "If so... then there could only be one prime suspect who resides there."

The room is filled with mutters of both surprise and indifference, depending on who you talk to. Some, like the Kingsguard, are appalled by this revelation, some, like Daemon, know it to be true and their eyes darken. Others, like Lord Lyonel and Lady Alicent, are in a state of disbelief.

Alicent even voices her disbelief as she shakes her head, "Father would never do something like this. Why would he want you dead if you're married to the King?"

"Because Father's wish wasn't for me to marry the King, it was for his blood to one day sit on the Iron Throne," Y/n stated boldly, loudly, to make sure everyone in the room heard it and accept it, "When I pledged my loyalty to Rhaenyra's right as Viserys' heir, Father's plans were ruined."

Rhaenyra squeezed Y/n's knee in comfort and the room stirred with this bit of information. Viserys grinds his teeth while glaring at the floor, enraged by the gall of his former Hand.

"A sire wishes to breathe fire. Fire burns to skin, and his eldest breeds it."

All eyes turn to the door of the room, where Princess Helaena now stood, half hiding away as all eyes turn to her. Y/n's worries all float away as her face softens at the sight of her daughter, smiling in encouragement, "Yes... that's what you meant, my heart. You tried to warn me."

"If Father is responsible for this attack, then he risks himself becoming a traitor to the crown," Alicent interrupts, her voice low in anger, "He should be punished immediately."

Viserys huffs out a large, enraged sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Maester. Once you are done attending to the Queen, please inspect the body. I will have the Kingsguard bring the corpse down to the dungeons and you may meet them there."

"Of course, Your Grace."

"Ser Harrold," Viserys broadens his voice, the man in question straightening to attention at the power of it, "I demand the arrest of Lord Otto Hightower. Send out a regiment to Oldtown to obtain him and bring him back to King's Landing."

"Your Grace," Ser Harrold bows and vacates the room.

"Ser Criston," Viserys turns to the younger knight, "Remain outside the Queen's room tonight."

"At once, Your Grace."

"Half of you bring the body down to the dungeons," the old man orders the remaining Kingsguard, "The rest of you follow me. I will summon the court and address the crime at hand."

"You mean to warn them of your interrogation into their treachery?" Daemon questions with a sly glare, appalled.

"Treachery?" Viserys appeared affronted at his younger brother, scoffing in disbelief.

"Someone inside the castle must have helped, my love," Y/n decided to cut in before another spat between brothers could begin within her chambers, "I do not believe my father acted alone in this attack. I believe he had help from someone on the inside. Only someone with the proper knowledge of the castle and my whereabouts could have instructed the assassin on where to go and when to strike. No doubt whoever this traitor is had hired the attacker using Lord Otto's coin."

The maester had finished Y/n's stitches and stood to instruct the Kingsguard on how to remove the body without tampering with it. Roughly five Kingsguard managed to lift the corpse off the sharp andiron and pull it out of the fire without distressing the skull from its shoulders. The Queen keeps her eyes fixed on her husband, refusing to even glimpse at the body of her attacker. Viserys former dismissal relents, his shoulders slouching as he nods in agreement. The body is removed from Y/n's chambers and with it follows a parade of Kingsguard along with the Grand Maester. Viserys waited for them all to leave before also exiting with Lord Lyonel, mentioning under his breath of a secret council meeting.

The room grows silent, the rest of the royal family sitting uncomfortably, unnerved by the situation. Y/n's mind is buzzing, her thoughts running from her attacker... to Oldtown, to her father, and then to Daeron. Dread freezes in her chest, worry for her youngest child taking place.

"Daemon," Y/n stands up, feeling the strength of her legs again as she rounds the couch in a flurry of skirts, stepping up to her good brother. She makes sure to stare directly up into his eyes, unwavering, as she carefully spoke her next words, "I wonder if you would be so kind as to take your dragon to Oldtown and bring me back my son?"

Mischief sparkled dimly in Daemon's war-aged eyes, a corner of his lips slowly turned up as he feigns innocence with the tilt of his head, "Not by horse, Your Grace? Surely, you wouldn't want your lord father to feel insulted by the mere threat of a dragon."

A playful taunt that she would normally meet, but the Queen's mind remains fixed on her baby boy. Her words are blunt and powerful compared to the stutter she had possessed earlier, "Perhaps I would like him to feel insulted by the mere presence of your company."

She leans into her brother-in-law's space, taking both of her hands and gripping onto one of his forearms. She lowers her voice so that only he could hear the rest, "Go. I don't care what you do, or how you do it, just bring me back my son alive."

He schooled his features, emotions neutral while firmly nodding once down to her, "Yes, Your Grace."

Daemon breaks from her hold on him and cross to the door before Aemond began to follow him, "I'll accompany you, Uncle."

Y/n quickly steps towards her second son, reaching for him, "I do not wish that, Aemond--

"It's alright, dear sister," she turns to Daemon's voice, "Vhagar and Caraxes will definitely be a sight your father will remember for the rest of his miserable years... or whatever time he has left."

The grave promise in his tone may have felt intimidating to some, but it was strangely a comfort to the Queen. Aemond grasps her elbow in comfort, forcing her to look up at him. Glancing between her son and Daemon, she eventually surrenders with a stern expression as she narrows her gaze onto Aemond, "Fine. But you do what Daemon says and you do not fight. Promise me."

"I promise, Mother," Aemond whispers gently to her, "I'll bring Daeron home for you."

He pulls out of his mother's grip and saunters over to join his uncle at the door. Daemon nods to Rhaenyra before exiting from her sight. Aemond takes one look back at his family, narrowing his sight onto his older brother. He tilts his head in question and Aegon only shakes his head in rejection. He will not join the hunt. Aemond nods with understanding, a silent conversation only two brothers can share, before he, too, leaves. Aegon turns back to his mother, dutifully placing himself at her side, "What would you have me do, Mother?"

"Stay with Helaena in her chambers tonight," she instructs him with a warm smile, cupping his face in her hands, meeting his eyes as they stood the same height, "I would feel comforted knowing neither of you would be left alone for the time being."

"We can all stay together, Aunt," Jace mentions with a smile of reassurance, "All the children. We'll have the wet nurses bring Little Aegon and Viserys to Princess Helaena's room and we can keep each other company until we know everything is safe again."

"I'll go find Joffrey," Luke volunteers, springing up and disappearing from the room.

"Very well," Y/n laughs under her breath, amused by Luke's lack of courtesy before gently patting the side of Aegon's face, "Will that please you, my dear? Will you and Jace watch over your siblings and cousins until we apprehend the people involved in this attack?"

"We'll make it a celebration, Mother," Aegon comforts her, "As to not worry the smaller ones."

"Thank you, my sweet child," Y/n whispers, feeling lighter when she watches the remainder of the children leave, though it was getting harder and harder to recognize them as children when the older ones are nearly fully grown and so responsible.

The room remains occupied by Y/n, Alicent, Rhaenyra, and Ser Harwin, the latter noticing the way the Queen chewed on her bottom lip while in thought as she began pacing the room, "What is it?"

"I wish to know who among our court would want me dead, and if their intentions have any motive behind hiring my attacker."

"If the assassin had lived, we could have questioned him," Harwin had commented.

"Not likely," Queen Y/n shook her head, "The maester may confirm this, but I believe the attacker's tongue might have been cut out prior to assaulting me. I remember he never spoke a word, only making pained noises and grunting. Whoever helped him into the castle was more careful than my father. Whoever they are, they covered their tracks."

~~~~~~~~~

It was well into the next day and yet none of them left Y/n's side. They had all stayed up the entire night, debating on what to do next as the Queen anxiously waited for news from Oldtown. To try and distract her, both Alicent and Rhaenyra offered to assist in looking through the letters asking for Helaena's hand in marriage. The three women had done so until morning, with Harwin standing guard inside the room and Ser Criston guarding outside of it.

Ser Criston had yet to be informed of Daemon and Aemond's return when they all heard the familiar roars of Caraxes and Vhagar flying overhead, even shaking the floor of Y/n's chambers. The Queen abruptly stood from her chair, running to her balcony to spot the two dragons for herself. However, they had flown directly to the Dragonpit and they were now too far for Y/n to see who sat on top of their mounts. Anxious to see the riders with her own two eyes, the Queen sprinted out of her chambers, barely acknowledging the others shouting her name behind her. She knew for a fact that Ser Harwin and Criston were running after her, but Alicent and Rhaenyra's voices faded away, not following Y/n, most likely because of the princess' round stomach.

Y/n paid no mind to courtesy or manners as she ran through the halls of the castle, not even nodding her head whenever a servant or lord stopped to bow in greeting her. She even kicked off her shoes, grace be damned, so that she may pick up her skirts and take two steps at a time down the winding staircases.

By the time she ordered guards to open the doors of the Red Keep, the front gates were slowly rising. Y/n bounded down the steps of the courtyard, finally stopping to catch her breath as she anxiously waits for whoever to come through. Daemon entered first, followed by his nephew. Aemond, however, was occupied with another silver-haired individual, the older brother playfully shoving a younger boy forward.

Although upon looking at him, Y/n could hardly describe him as a boy. Daeron, and the age of six and ten, was technically a man grown, though he could never possibly reach the same height as Aemond or Daemon. He always kept his traditional Targaryen hair short, at least to his shoulders, and Y/n's eyes briefly squinted at the green-colored apparel her youngest son wore before quickly forgetting about it, her smile uncomfortably stretching as her eyesight began to blur.

Daeron had kept his gaze on the Queen, even as the front gates closed behind them. The courtyard was still until the young prince stepped forward, his own smile smaller than Y/n's but it was one of relief and shyness, "Hello, Mother."

She broke after that, huffs of laughter under her breath as joyful tears ran down her face. Y/n opened up her arms and Daeron dutifully fell into them, hiding into her shoulder as his mother hugged him tightly, shaking with relief.

~~~~~~~~~

"Has Daeron comfortably moved back in?" Viserys asked his wife that following night, both of them sitting at the corner of the Small Council table, alone.

"Yes. Although I wouldn't be surprised if we found him in one of his sibling's rooms the next morning," Y/n smiled fondly behind the lip of her wine glass, "Aemond said that he was thrilled to be coming home. Apparently, he hated Oldtown."

"And your father? What has become of him?"

Y/n's smile falls, immediately avoiding her husband's gaze as she carefully swirls the wine in her goblet, watching the small whirlpool instead of the King's reaction, "I don't know. I didn't bother to ask."

Viserys sighed, all too well acquainted with Daemon's temper and his opinion of Lord Otto, "Well, my men will be there in a few days and they will make do with what is left of Otto Hightower."

The Queen sets her goblet on the table and leaned back in her chair, drumming her fingers against the arms, "Perhaps Daemon chose mercy. Perhaps he wished to surprise us and soon the Kingsguard will bring my father back alive and whole."

It was a comforting thought, but Viserys only huffed in amusement, "Knowing my brother, I wouldn't get your hopes up, my dear."

They both laugh from their chests, even if there wasn't much mirth behind it. They settle back into a comfortable silence again, while a thought comes to Viserys' mind. It pleases him, and he outwardly shows with the broad, toothless smile he gifts his wife, "You know... even though you're kind and caring, you're also fierce and harsh. Those are tremendous qualities, my love, that not many can possess. Did you know what the smallfolk call you? The Good Queen. My grandmother, Queen Alysanne, was also nicknamed the Good Queen."

Her curious expression slowly melts into a fond smile, allowing Viserys to continue as he sets down his own wine goblet, "It's an honorable title, perhaps more honorable than just being a King or Queen. It goes to show that you are well-loved and you are good at what you do... I often wonder what would happen to this kingdom and this family without you, especially after nearly losing you last night."

Y/n's heart squeezes in her chest, touched by her husband's words. Eyebrows furrowed and lips turned up, the Queen looked over at Viserys with sympathy as she reached her hand over to grasp his, holding it tight, "Best not to dwell on it, my King."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: It took me an embarrassing long time to realize I was spelling ‘Jacaerys’ wrong. I blame Rhaenyra for giving her son such a difficult name.

I hope you’ve enjoyed! This will likely be the last part of ‘The Good Queen’ since I don’t think it really needs to be a series. It’s bad enough that I have three other series that need updating. Please leave a request in my pm or ask box!

Inspiration for this chapter HERE

#viserys targaryen #king viserys targaryen #viserys targaryen imagine #king viserys targaryen imagine #viserys targaryen x reader #king viserys targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon imagine #hotd #house of the dragon #paddy considine #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #harwin strong #daemon targaryen #otto hightower #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #helaena targaryen #daeron targaryen #aegon iii targaryen #viserys ii targaryen #rhaenyra x harwin #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenicent #rhaenyra x alicent #princess rhaenyra #daemyra

[coralinnii]

I know you’re probably busy with writing the previous requests from that limited time you put. But I need to know where Grim fits in the Reincarnated Villain/ess!AU. Like, which Villainess would be be with, or would there be another Villain/ess he would be with? I don’t know if this was answered or not, if it has can you give me the link?

Referring to my Being Reincarnated into a New World as the Bad Guy a.k.a the Villain/ess AU series

Riddle: Considering that Riddle's isekai story is lightly inspired by Alice in Wonderland, I would see Grim taking the role of an antagonistic wild creature that may or may not join OG!FL rebellious coup against Riddle in the original story, only for his self-interest of taking down Riddle out of spite for his tyrannical rule. He would not have met the villain/ess in the original story and I honestly can't see him naturally meeting our villain/ess!reader. Maybe I can make it so but we'll see.

Trey: ~no spoilers~

Ace and Deuce: Going off from Riddle's section, Ace and Deuce would have met Grim in the original story in the town but OGvillain/ess may not directly interact with Grim, unless the original villain/ess!reader attacked OG!FL . In the reincarnated story, there's a higher chance of meeting and befriending mostly because of Ace and Deuce

Leona: You know...I can see Grim being added into the original story as a wedding gift of sorts to OG Villain/ess, perhaps being their only friend in a foreign country in a loveless marriage. In the reincarnated story, Grim would be the friend that constantly badmouths Leona as a bad husband with you letting him because as much as you respect and cherish Leona, you need a friend that doesn't hype up his already huge ego.

Ruggie: ~no spoilers~

Azul: In the original storyline, I doubt Grim would ever meet the OG!villain/ess as I would see him as a comedic companion to the OG!FL. In the reincarnated story, I can see Grim leaving the OGFL because of how boring she is to him and then villain/ess!reader and Azul caught him trying to steal some of their seafood products.

Jade: Going off from Azul's section, I also doubt Grim would ever meet the OG!villain/ess. In the reincarnated story however, knowing how much Jade loves chaotic elements, he would probably welcome Grim with open arms and his villain/ess!reader is just gonna have to begrudgingly roll with it (but you can't resist Grim's cuteness so it's a win-win).

Floyd: Going off from Azul’s section, Floyd and his OGvillain/ess would probably not meet Grim in the original, aside from perhaps a few scenes where Floyd would scare Grim for sh*ts and giggles. In the reincarnated story, Floyd may introduce Grim (forcibly on Grim’s part) to you and you would feel a kinship with the poor creature, being an unfortunate source of entertainment for the Leech family. I can imagine Floyd getting a little jealous than you warmed up to Grim a lot faster than you did with him, which leads to conveniently snatching you away and leaving Grim all by his lonesome (even though Floyd brought him here in the first place?)

Kalim: Like some of the others, Grim would probably be the companion to the OGFL and may not interact or even meet the OGvillain/ess. In the case for Kalim’s reincarnated story, I would think this stays the same as Kalim’s OGFL is kind and hardworking, a true friend to Grim just like in the original. Unlike like the original, the villain/ess!reader would probably meet and befriend Grim as I imagine you and the OGFL getting along pretty well (especially after the sequel story)

Jamil: Going off from Kalim’s section, Grim would stay as OGFL’s companion but he and OGvillain/ess may have met through their childhood friend Kalim. However, they would not get along because OGvillain/ess may feel too superior due to their status as Grim came from the “common people’s” village. In the reincarnated story, the villain/ess!reader may meet Grim by chance due to the friendly relationship with the OGFL

Vil: There’s honestly multiple ways to incorporate Grim in Vil’s story. One option is that Grim is one of Neige’s animal companions (genuine Disney princess that he is) but honestly Grim is too chaotic and mischievous for that to work.

The other option is that he became a disgruntled pawn of Vil as he was attracted to how powerful and influential Vil was. In this option, he would meet the OGvillain/ess but would be creeped out of how indifferent they were in the original story. In the reincarnated story, Grim may still be creeped out by you due to your admiration for your husband but would get along well enough.

Rook: Going off from Vil’s section, Grim would also be creeped out by Rook’s obsessive OGvillain/ess and would prefer not to interact with them. In the reincarnated story however, I can see the reverse where Grim would badger you to sculpt his greatness for all to admire. You complied for a while but after the nth time of sculpting the egotistical creature, you had to refuse, to his dismay.

Epel: ~no spoilers~

Idia: I can see misleading scenes of wholesomeness where the OGFL and Idia would hang out as Idia has soft spot for Grim who would be OGFL’s animal companion. I say misleading because Idia does betray OGFL in the original story (tragedy genre, let’s go!). Since OGFL is villain/ess!reader’s older sister, you would definitely meet Grim in both original and reincarnated versions. Though in the reincarnated story, you would be the bridge and barrier between Grim and Idia. Idia would use the excuse of wanting to see Grim to visit your home, not because you actually wanted to see you, of course (it’s definitely both, though)

Malleus: Since it’s a harem dating simulation, Grim would most likely be OGFL’s animal companion and the mascot for the game (like he is for Twisted Wonderland). Grim would meet the OGvillain/ess as they were meant to torment the OGFL in the original story but that would probably the extent of their interaction. In the reincarnated story however, I can see Grim running away from the OGFL a lot because he’s weirded out by the harem collecting the OGFL is doing. You would probably meet Grim by chance during one of his escapes and befriend him by being your kind self (and also feeding him). You tell yourself not to engage with who was supposed to be OGFL’s best friend by you couldn’t resist the fluffy cutie.

Lilia: Going off from Malleus’ section, this OGvillain/ess may be the least likely out of everyone on this list to ever meet Grim of their story. Being in a different kingdom and not meant to stay long in the story, Grim would never have any chance of meeting this OGvillain/ess. In the reincarnated story, it’s honestly dependent on what happens with Malleus’ villain/ess!reader and if Grim chooses to come to Briar Valley. If he does, they may be introduced through Malleus. In which your parenting instincts quickly kick in, spoiling Grim and making your dragon child Yung (and perhaps Lilia~) jealous of the attention you pour onto the adorable creature. Afterall, you seem to get along well with cute, magical menaces.

Silver: ~no spoilers~

Sebek: ~no spoilers~

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst scenarios #twst imagines #villainess au #twisted wonderland imagines #riddle rosehearts #ace trappola #deuce space #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #jade leech #kalim al asim #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #idia shroud #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge