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astrumark · 2 years

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── SHE WAS LOVIN' ME, SHE WAS WANTIN' ME ★.

PAIRING: aemond targaryen x female reader.

SUMMARY: aemond is not accustomed to getting attention and you give him just that.

WARNINGS: one curse word, sexual implications, heavy make-out session, flirting.

WC: 2.9K

NOTES: i haven't written anything in two years so i'm very rusty, sorry. also english is not my native language.

Aemond has always been prideful, although this characteristic was often hidden under the circumstances of his life. But he was aware, and enjoyed a bit too much, all of his privileges as a prince, even being arrogant about it. His pride was a bit shaken when he didn't claim a dragon in his early childhood, a dragon meant a lot not only for a Targaryen but especially a male Targaryen, a symbol of their manhood. He felt more unworthy than other men in his family. When he finally claimed Vhagar, he lost his eye, an essential part of his body, and yet again, his entitlement faltered. When it was rather obvious that Aegon would become king one day, and how unfit for the role he was, Aemond was faced with the second son's burden and jealousy. Aemond was prideful, however, he never felt whole.

He was resentful because he could've had so much more. He'd sometimes dream about having the largest dragon alive, both of his eyes, and an Iron Throne to claim for himself. But reality would strike him once again and he would bury all of his anger, frustration, and envy deep in his heart and present only his well-built facet to others. Aemond felt so at fault he turned into a perfectionist. He needed to be the perfect pupil, the perfect warrior, the perfect son, brother, and one day, husband and father. To be respected, and to be feared. But no matter how much he succeed in his duties, he was never satisfied. Aemond's pride was wounded and he craved validation, even if he didn't admit it.

So yes, Aemond absolutely loved your attention.

When you first arrived at the Red Keep, your father a new member of the small council, Aemond believed your constant stare was due to your fear and disgust towards him, just as the other ladies. However, as moons went by, Aemond noticed there was something slightly different in your eyes, curiosity, perhaps? He felt your gaze on him constantly and decided to ignore it. But it certainly made him unease, such sudden interest. You even attended his training on certain afternoons, and he knew you couldn't mean anything good, which irritated him as well.

You, on the contrary, were enchanted with the prince the second you laid eyes on him. While reading a romance book, you believed that a person couldn't knock another's air out of their lungs upon a mere sight, but that's what happened. The air around you became thick and a soft gasp escaped your lips. He was the most handsome man you have ever encountered. You tried to pick on things you didn't like about him, and you found none. His tall and slim body, the typical leather attire, soft-looking silver hair, mesmerizing violet eye, and a, in your opinion, charming eyepatch. His face, you could have never imagined it in your head, unusual characteristics one would never think could end up looking so good when paired together. He was sharp but pretty, unique. Reminding you of a sculpture, to be appreciated, but better avoid touching it to not deteriorate the work.

Once knowing you would move to the Red Keep, Aemond was undoubtedly the royal you were most keen to meet in person. The mighty rider of Vhagar, such a legendary dragon. When you heard the story about the night he claimed her, you were standing on tiptoes. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon, he supposedly said. Only a child, you admired the boy, and that admiration didn't go away as more gossip about the one-eyed would reach your ears throughout the years, how he'd become a highly educated man and one of the finest warriors in all of Westeros, how he was collected and intimidating. Your expectations were high already, and he managed to surpass them. Even when Aemond demonstrated little interest in you or your acquaintance, you could not help but drool over him. His looks, his attitude, his voice. So delightful.

It was Helaena's name day and Queen Alicent decided to throw a banquet in celebration. The great hall was loud due to conversations and the music, not many lords had been invited, to not overwhelm Princess Helaena, who preferred calmer ambiances, nonetheless, the castle was a lot more full than usual. You poured more wine to yourself, stomach already full, half engaged in the conversation with other ladies, half watching Aemond, further on the table, across his brother. Lost in your trance, you didn't connect the voices to names, but you listened to them.

"I must confess I find Prince Aegon dashingly handsome. Princess Helaena's a lucky woman."

Giggles.

"Indeed, a shame he lacks morals."

"He's truly attractive, the whores and servants that earn his attention have nothing to complain about."

"Do you think if Prince Aemond still had his other eye, he could compare?"

"Not at all, he's simply strange looking."

You scoffed. "He's very handsome. Aegon is the one who could never compare to him, even lacking an eye."

One of the ladies smirked. "You are the only one who favors Aemond, I wonder why?"

"Perhaps I just have a better taste."

There was a sound of disapproval among the inner circle you found yourself in, and you sighed, drinking more of your wine.

"There's just something about him, a fire, an unpredictability. He looks calm, yet he seems as if he could explode at any moment, doesn't he?" You pondered, looking at him again. "Seven, he rides the largest dragon alive, is that not alluring enough?"

"Careful what you say out loud, dear Y/N, if the Septa finds out where your thoughts are wandering, she will not be pleased." Lady Vivien teased and the others burst out laughing. You rolled your eyes.

Aemond was bored out of his mind, but he forced himself to stay for his sister. He watched the feast impassive, speaking only when needed and fidgeting with his cup of wine. When Helaena left to gather with a group of young ladies, where you stood, and his mom seemed too engrossed in conversation with her friends, the young prince contemplated leaving, certain his presence was no longer a necessity. That was when Aegon opened his mouth.

"Do you think it makes her look stupid? Because I do," He drank from his cup. "But stupidly sensual."

"What do you speak of?" Aemond's tone was both tedious and exasperated.

"Lady Y/N, obviously, longingly staring at you," Aegon scoffed. "If she looked at me with those eyes, I tell you, brother, there wouldn't be much left of her afterward. Basically begging you to fuck her senseless."

Aemond would never say it out loud, but his heart skipped a beat at his brother's words. A thought that never once crossed his mind, because, surely, that couldn't be possible, not someone like you. But it made sense, yes. What he could never quite read in your eyes... was it lust? Pride filled his chest with the idea, the knowledge that you may desire him.

For the first time, when he felt your eyes on him, he locked his one with yours, watching you intently, now with the same interested gaze you held, confidently analyzing your face and reaction. When your lips turned into a shy yet flirtatious smile, only to shamefully avert your eyes right after, playing with your hair and pretending to focus on the conversation around you, he knew it. Your actions were not uncommon to him, he had seen them many times but directed at Aegon, and even his younger brother, Daeron, but never him. Gods, was it pleasant. He couldn't fight the smirk off his face as he sipped on his wine, an ego boost much needed.

You have noticed the shift in Aemond's behavior towards you after that night, it was impossible not to. How he started to return your stares and smirks and acknowledge your presence with words rather than a nod, sometimes even engaging in small conversations, asking about you and your interests. Each interaction lets you with a foolish smile and a racing heart.

Managing to convince Helaena to ditch the Septa's lessons for one afternoon, you found yourself in the Dragonpit since the princess decided she desired to fly. Although there hadn't much to do whilst you waited for her return, you didn't mind in the slightest. The structure, so big and magnificent, had always amazed you, the dragon's power distinguishable in the air. And for that, you were more than thrilled to visit Rhaenys's Hill every time someone suggested it. After chatting a bit with Helaena's sworn knight, you started wandering around, lost in thought.

Your body trembled upon hearing the most loud and rasping squeak, followed by harsh flaps of wings, and you lifted your head up. You already knew who it was, no other dragon compares to her. And if carefully inspected, one could easily understand each dragon's personality and mannerisms. You rushed outside, although still hiding behind one of the huge pillars at the entrance of the Dragonpit.

Vhagar landed on the ground with a loud thud, and it was as if the sand was shaking beneath your feet. You gawked at the creature. You had already seen her, but never this close. Although stunning, Vhagar also seemed unnatural, her colossal form not settling right in the ambiance. No living or dead being should be this big. You gulped nervously, she was otherworldly, for sure.

You listened to Aemond talking with a few dragonkeepers in High Valyrian, you had studied the language for a while, but you were not fluent, especially when spoken so fast. With difficulty, you managed to understand that the prince had asked for food. Aemond petted Vhagar whilst a few workers scattered away, surprisingly, they came back not much long after, guiding two living cows and a sheep.

You were fascinated and horrified as you watched Vhagar burn one of the cows, feasting in its carbonized meat and bones. You tore your gaze from what was left of the poor animal, instead focusing on Vhagar's appearance, memorizing it, her bronze scales and big green eyes, ridiculously sharp and deadly teeth, and visible scars of ancient battles all over her body. You couldn't help but recall all of the tales, so entertained by the beast, you didn't even notice the presence of the young prince behind you.

"I must admit my utter surprise, Lady Y/N. I was not expecting such a lovely presence in here." The voice startled you and a gasp escaped your lips as your body turned around.

"Prince Aemond," You said curtsying slightly, your head also lowered in embarrassment with the flattery, and you tried to fight the satisfied smile that threatened to break in the corner of your lips. "It seems your sister also found it fit to fly this afternoon. I came as a companion."

Aemond hummed, making butterflies arise in your stomach. "The weather is nice."

"Indeed." Your body turned to Vhagar again as the she-dragon now incinerated the sheep, a burning smell invading your nostrils once more.

"You like her." It was a statement, not a question.

"She is legendary, my Prince."

"That she is."

"Isn't it hard to believe she is one of the dragons that conquered Westeros all those years ago? And still stands before us? A living piece of history itself," You rambled, watching how they brought the other cow forward. "Ancient, powerful, magic. A fragment of the Old Valyria."

Aemond stood even taller, as if it was possible, filled with pride of his dragon, a smirk plastered on his face.

"She has seen so much, more than half of the people she has known is dead for quite some time now," You continued. "Have you heard about how the wild dragon Cannibal might be even older than Vhagar? It is absurd. Amazing creatures." Your gaze returned to Aemond.

He was already looking at you, listening to your words attentively, amusement clear behind his eye.

"Well, seeing as you admire her that much, I might take you for a ride," Aemond said. "Then, you will be able to see her full glory."

You chuckled wryly, looking back at Vhagar very briefly, before laying your full attention on the prince. "I suppose there are more shameful ways of dying than falling off a dragon." You jested.

"I would not let you fall," He paused, eye surveying your body up and down. "I'd hold onto you tight." You didn't miss the flirtatious tone.

You smirked, heart pounding loudly and feeling all hot. You stared at him, absolutely entranced by his handsome face, before entering his game.

"I don't know what would be more pleasant," You took a step closer to him, whispering in seduction. "Riding the mightiest dragon alive or being pressed against you."

Your stomach tingled as Aemond's eye darkened with lust. It was something you have noticed upon admiring him for so long, that, although his body and face remained often stoic, his eye didn't really lack emotion, and through it, you should be able to read his mood.

"It would pain me not to clear your doubts, pet." His hand brushed a strand of your hair and tucked it behind your ear, making the distance between you even smaller, and your breath hitched.

"We wouldn't want that." You whispered, stepping back, only to feel the coolness of the pillar, Aemond followed you like a predator, your chests pressed.

"No, we wouldn't." His long index finger caressed your jaw, the feather-like touch making you flutter your eyes shut as the hair on the nape of your neck stirred up. "So beautiful." He whispered, now cupping your cheeks in both hands and bringing your face closer to his.

You knew you should pull away, that you were in a public space, that although hidden behind the pillar, and not seen from the front, anyone that decided to enter or leave the building, could catch you in the most inappropriate way possible with the prince. You'd be forever ruined in court and your chances of a good marriage would disappear, your parents would rightfully so doom you, because how does one even explain this situation? But you couldn't.

All you could possibly think about was Aemond, the warmth of his body, and how good it felt, his breath mingling with yours, the texture of the leather beneath your fingers as you held his waist, his scent, of dragon, but something else as well, more citric and fresh you could only guess as his bathing oils and the absolute desire in his eye. No, you couldn't pull away and you wouldn't. You would risk everything to have the littlest taste of him. Aemond smirked, nose brushing yours, and then, he kissed you.

Aemond kissed you, and you could swear you floated, all of your other senses went numb, and you could only feel his warm and soft lips on yours. You sighed in contentment, and you moved your lips against his tentatively, a hot and pleasant sensation taking over your lower belly. You gladly let him deepen the kiss, and not even if you tried you could have prevented your soft moan from slipping out of you. You met him at his pace, not slow or fast, just right, the two of you getting to know and exploring the other. Growing confident, one of your hands moved to his strong jaw, stroking it gently as you had only dreamed of, Aemond groaned in pleasure, tightening his grip on you. And you continued to kiss him, eager and tenderly, somewhere in your mind, fearing that you were showing him how much you appreciated him, how much you wished for this, longed for this, longed for him.

Aemond noticed, of course he did, and it made him feel so good. You needed him, and Aemond enjoyed being needed. His hands slided down your body, caressing and squeezing your ass as he swallowed down your moan with his lips fervently devouring your own, his hands traveled through your hips and waist, going to the swell of your breasts and gripping on it, your surprised whimper making his cock throb. Aemond's lips moved to your jaw and exposed neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses and slight biting. You pulled at his hair, bringing his face to yours again, and he could only stare at you.

Because there, panting and with swollen lips, after letting him kiss and palm you in such a dangerous place, looking at him with a look that Aemond could only identify as pure adoration, he knew he'd got you in the palm of his hands, at his complete mercy, a sheep in a dragon's claw, and that you were his. He smiled wickedly, mine, he thought, heart swelling in pride. He locked your lips with his again, but in a peck. You were blissful.

"Come," He took your hand, subtly leading you inside, towards one of the many uninhabited tunnels.

And in the dark of the cave, away from any possible prying eyes, you kissed again, for several minutes or even more, heatedly and curiously, hands excited to feel as much of the other's body as possible. You bit, sucked, and licked one another. And even if just for that brief moment, Aemond felt whole. Nothing was pledging his mind as you deluged him with so much affection he could've drowned in it, all he cared about was the feeling of your delicate lips on his, your soft skin, your addicting taste and smell, and your loveliest moans that sounded like music to his ears. Aemond had bewitched you long ago, but unknowingly to the prince, you had just bewitched him as well. You needed him, and he'd willingly oblige to your wishes.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #aemond x reader

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exilethegame · 10 days

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What's the go-to topic for the RO's if you want to get them talking for the next 4 hours straight? In other words, what kind of things are they most interested in/passionate about?

Hmm...

Vethna: Politics in Vygrand, the ethics of blood magic, the history of magic in general... they are very much an academic at heart and like trying to find the balance between a "perfect world" and reality. Plus they've never spoken about these things to someone who takes them seriously, so having a place to do just that would have Vethna blabbering for hours.

Nikke: Weapons, daggers, specifically. He collects them as he finds them which may be grim to other people (considering he usually takes them from the bodies of the people he kills), but hey... it's still a cool collection, okay? He also loves talking about all his adventures and sharing stupid stories about cool places he's visited. Also fighting techniques. He's genuinely super into that. Goes for Jost + Nikke that they both have A LOT to say about the Taipan gang in Vrithka as well. Like a lot a lot. (None of them are good things)

Jost: Jost is a listener, not a talker. But in the rare, rare occasion you have her going on about something, it's usually because she's upset and somehow, you became the one person she trusts enough to vent things to. It's not necessarily upset as in sad, per se, but she's in a place emotionally where needs someone to bounce ideas and thoughts off of. (However, passion-wise, she's super into the arts, so you could probably pull some words out from her re. arts from the Old Worlds, museums, that sort of thing).

Amilia: Amilia does not stop talking. Amilia will go for hours talking about a cute mushroom on the side of the road, no not underestimate her. And you know what? Yes, she's doing it to annoy who she's with, but part of her really is interested in that mushroom you know. On a more serious note, she's really into music and getting to know people. Amilia's one of those people that makes others open up pretty easily, and it's something she genuinely enjoys since she likes learning the "lore" of individuals. (... is that just gossip?)

Sabir: Astrology, the gods of the Old World, the Old World in general, really. Interestingly enough, Sabir does not enjoy talking about politics. Like you can rile him up if you try hard and enough, but he sincerely tries to avoid getting too far into it because it's such a glib subject. That, and he's already talking about politics all day given his position. Sabir isn't a ramble talker though-- he won't just chatter for hours on end about something. He's into the art of conversation, you see. The back-and-forth is what's fun for him, so he'd rather talk about nothing at all and fill the conversation with shallow banter than passionately talk about his map collection.

Syfyn: Just remind her of the time someone vaguely pissed her off one time and you got about an hour of entertainment off that incident alone. (One time a person cut her in line at the mess hall, one time she stubbed her toe because someone moved a box, one time--) Syfyn also likes talking about combat and training, but Nikke's more like "genuine excitement and tips and tricks" and Syfyn's more like "lmfao I kicked your ASS you're a loser" or "did you see how hard I punched that thing lemme remind you"

Freedom: Hmm... this only works if one is super-super close with Freedom, but they'll be very genuine and skip the word-games when it comes to talking about the Old World, the time when the other gods were alive, their past and people they've met/known. That's the one thing Freedom could speak about for hours and be upfront about AND be genuinely invested in the conversation. They enjoy sharing relics of history with people who are actually willing to listen, and the fact anyone might want to really know about them on an individual level would be very flattering.

#answered #vethna #nikke #amilia #jost #syfyn #sabir #freedom #rip Syfyn she's a blurbo at heart forced to be in her sad girl era #Syfyn + Nikke and Amilia + Freedom would be great convo pairs according to this #I've tried to post this like seven times and Tumblr immediately smote me with a bolt of lightning

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celesteleoves · 4 months

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“BUT IM IN SO DEEP, YOU KNOW IM SUCH A FOOL FOR YOU.”

choso kamo x reader.

warnings: very fluffy, implied height difference between reader and choso (he’s taller), KIND OF A DIFFERENT REALITY where everyone’s alive and well.

summary: in which, choso doesn’t like listening to those who aren’t close to him but he’d do a lot for you!

——————

choso was new to the whole “being a human” thing. he didn’t quite understand how humans interacted fully, especially around those they were interested in.

yuji has helped him get a better understanding of human interactions, telling him modern day, how to start a conversation and how to keep it going, and lastly, in yujis words the most important part, how to treat a woman you are attracted to. choso is very thankful for his brother and he knows his other brothers would’ve helped him the same way if they could.

so, small interactions between himself and those around him are very important to him. he’s also starting to realize how important you are to him aswell.

“hey, choso, can you give me that chocolate bar?” nobara yelled from her spot on the couch. yuji had invited a few of his close friends over, not realizing choso was going to be home (which meant he had to invite his teachers, he knows choso would be happy you were here though).

“i’m doing laundry for my brother, maybe megumi can grab it for you.” choso avoided her question, not really enjoying the fact she was so comfortable with ordering him around. megumi immediately held his hand up to shut up nobara as she went to ask him.

choso was not doing laundry, he was sitting on a couch with you sitting beside him, part of the reason why he didn’t want to get up and do anything for anyone. he’d rather be close to you than not.

“kamo! my favourite little man, can you lend me your time and grab those chocolate bars.”

choso’s eyes twitched at gojo’s words and his use of his last name as he let out a annoyed sigh, scrolling on the phone yuji had given him. he ignored the older man’s words and continued scrolling through instagram.

“hi.” you whispered to the man beside you, ignoring those around you as they talked loudly.

“hello.” choso’s voice was soft as he scanned your face, taking in how perfect you looked today.

“i don’t want to be a bother but can you maybe, please, help me grab some snacks for everyone in the kitchen?” you smiled softly at the man beside you, his attention directed to you immediately.

“of course.” choso spoke as he stood up surprisingly quick to help you, despite the fact he had brushed off many of those around him when they had asked him to do something.

you both began to walk to the kitchen, ignoring everyone’s banter.

“sorry, i just couldn’t figure out how to get to this thing.” you pointed towards a cabinet that had chips in it. it was too high for you to reach.

“no need to apologize. i’d do anything for you.” choso’s words came out on instinct. it took him a minute to realize how crazy he sounded after saying something like that to you.

his back was turned to you as he reached for the cabinet with shaky hands, obviously thinking about what he had just let slip out.

he failed to see how flushed you had become, a nervous laugh escaping your throat at his words.

you’d do the same for him, if you were able to reach the cabinet.

“oh! haha.” you said, stammering for words as choso turned to look at you with embarrassment evident on his face.

“i’m sorry, yuji told me i can’t just say words out loud like that.”

he began rambling, apologizing and trying to justify what he meant. you felt the same way, guess this is the right time to tell him.

“choso, i would do the same for you.”

“you would?” choso blinked at you with wide eyes as his head was tilted slightly in confusion, you almost cooed at the sight. he was so cute.

you moved closer towards him, looking around to make sure nobody was near the kitchen, thankfully you could hear everyone chattering in the living room still.

“yeah. of course.” you whispered, being so close to him you felt you didn’t need to talk loudly. he would listen to you no matter how loud or quiet you talked.

“your lips are pretty.”

your eyes widened at his words, now becoming flustered as his eyes flicked between your lips and your eyes.

choso was so nervous, he was just saying anything that came to mind!

you stared at him for a moment, debating on what to do.

you only had one thought on your mind, yet you didn’t want to let your nervousness stop you from doing it. the two of you being so close to each other made you sweat.

you have found choso endearing for a while but you were too afraid to voice your feelings as he seemed very closed off. one thing you learned about him, was he hated others giving him options or orders.

“can i kiss you?”

choso hated being given options or orders (see what i did there), he enjoyed the sound of this one though.

he stumbled over his words, choosing to just nod his head instead.

you leaned in, your eyes fluttering shut as you kissed him.

choso was in awe as he kept his eyes open for a second, closing them after feeling the touch of your lips against his.

his had made its way to your waist, while the other held your face.

the kiss felt so perfect to choso that he almost failed to remember you both had to breathe.

you pulled away with a pant as you looked at the flustered man infront of you.

his eyes were lidded as he panted, a small smile on his face as he looked at you.

you grinned, feeling like a school girl with a crush.

“yuji told me that normally kissing means you take interest in the person… is that true?” choso shyly asked and you couldn’t help but laugh as you grabbed the chips beside him.

“yes, it’s true, i’m very interested in you cho’. let’s get these snacks back out there, yeah?” you smiled happily at him and choso almost felt his heart stop.

“yeah.”

this interaction had certainly taught choso a few things.

he would do anything you asked him to do, he’s interested in you, and you’re interested in him too!

————

a/n: ahhh this is so bad. anyways, i’ve never written anything for choso so this was a first! it was kind of cringey but let’s also keep in mind choso doesn’t get a lot of action like this before becoming “human” 😭

leave requests please or recommendations!

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aquidragon · 1 year

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Compulsory

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4902

Summary: There was no one you hated more than your ex-boyfriend Leon Kennedy, however, until he appears in your office after a long mission that changed everything.

Content Warning(s): smoking, reference to drinking, refrence to drugs, nsfw content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)

(this is my magnum opus, I can die now)

---

You weren’t sure if there was anyone you hated more than you despised Leon Scott Kennedy. Even if you searched in the farthest corners of the universe, it would be hard for any living thing to somehow beat the burning, red-hot hatred that burned deep in your heart.

You also hated that there was no one else in the infinite galaxy that you could love more than you loved Leon. His presence was like a drug, pulsing throughout your entire body, fueling you with aphrodisiac. Your nerves tingled at the thought of him, the hair on your neck stood on end in remembrance of his warm touch on your bare skin. The scent of sandalwood, refined whiskey, and rust haunted your senses.

You couldn’t get enough, you craved him again, you wanted to feel him rushing through your veins again. You needed him to feel alive. The burning desire to be dependent on him again weighed heavily in your mind, your body and your soul. It was why you loathed him, why you never wanted to see his alluring, mysterious frozen ocean eyes again.

Leon had shattered every effective piece of your heart when he walked away, when you demanded him to stay. It had been a cold, stormy night, your clothes were soaked to your bones as you screamed at him. Hot tears streaked down your cheeks, mixing with the freezing droplets that fell from the heavens. His eyes held the same empty, hollow walls that you had fought so hard to tear down. You had reached into the abyss of his mind, every secret, every memory, every emotion that he felt was once at your fingertips.

Before you could grab a hold, you were forced out by a violent tsunami. Sealing away what was once yours, for what you assumed to be forever. Leon Scott Kennedy became a mystery to you once again, a stranger whom you never knew. You thought you had known him once, as well as he knew you, but you were wrong.

You saw him sometimes, walking the narrow hallways of the DSO building, in between assignments. His blonde hair and square shoulders lingered in the corner of your vision like a ghost. Occasionally, you’d catch cyan in your sight, as you briefly met his eyes. For seconds, you remembered when you were his, before it all crashed down to Earth. You’d tear your head away, cramming yourself in your work, unable to look at him any longer. You couldn’t bear the thought of him, a hot knife that tore through your chest, slicing you open; it made you vulnerable. Leon made you feel weak, powerless, similar to a deer caught in headlights. You hated him. You hated your own weakness.

You even had asked to be reassigned to a new agent, within the Field Operations Support, which you had been granted. Not many people within the DSO knew about your complicated relationship history with Leon, most people assumed you were just best friends who had a falling out. Sometimes, you wished that they were correct. It would’ve saved you years of heartache if the nature of your relationship with your former lover remained platonic. If the intimacy you had shared with the blonde agent continued at a surface level, far above the trench that pulled you both down deeper.

Maybe, you wouldn’t have drowned.

“Hey, did you hear about Kennedy's status?” The question that was directed at you felt muffled, your ears were underwater. You blinked, as reality set back in, and you turned to face your co-worker. Her perfect teeth peeked through her rouge-painted lips in a wide, ecstatic smile.

“Kennedy? He’s not in my detail anymore, remember?” You grumbled, finishing off the rest of your water bottle. “Why?” Ingrid Hunnigan was one of the few people who you told about your former relationship with Leon, who she often updated you about, much to your personal dismay.

“He successfully extracted Miss Graham, they’re landing back in the states in thirty.” She practically cheered, taking a celebratory sip from her hours-old fast food soda. “The president is thrilled, I hope that means a pay increase.” Hunnigan sang her excitement, as Leon’s direct communication agent, his accomplishment reflected well onto her.

“Congratulations, you deserve it.” You smiled at her, as you suddenly craved a cigarette.

Her excitement began to ebb away as she rested a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I know that talking about Leo-,” she hesitated, “-Kennedy isn’t easy for you.”

You chuckled, humorlessly, shaking your head. “I know this is a big deal for you, don’t sweat it. I’m fine.” You licked your lips, wishing you hadn’t finished your water. “You deserve a massive promotion, honestly.” You shut off your headset, stretching your arms over your head with a satisfied groan. “I’m going to have a smoke, I’ll be back.”

It was perfectly cool outside, you brought the paper stick to your lips, before beginning to light the white end of it. You had supposedly stopped smoking a year ago, alongside Leon, after creating a pact to quit. After you broke up, and an emotional breakdown at a bar, you gave into the compulsion. The hot, foul-smelling smoke fueled your lungs as you inhaled, and your built up frustrations rushed out with your exhale. “Shit,” you mumbled softly as you watched a familiar, private helicopter grace the horizon. You decided this warranted another puff from your cigarette, before stomping the butt into the pavement.

Although you were no longer one of Leon’s agents, Operation Baby Eagle required almost every Field Operations agent to be on deck. You had attempted to call in sick, but your impending rent payment had other plans. While you didn’t have any direct impact on the mission, you were still required to visually confirm Leon Kennedy and Ashley Graham’s safe return from Spain.

You were grateful you didn’t have to verbally confirm with them, at the very least. With a longingly sigh, you walk back inside the building, to get ready to head to the airstrip. You stand beside Ingrid, alongside the president and a large party of other people you didn’t know to welcome Ashley and her rescuer. You tapped your foot, impatient, and perhaps a little anxious as you watched the helicopter slowly lower to the ground. The wind whipped up from the spinning blades causes your hair to loosen from the hairstyle you chose to wear it in, as dust gets into your eyes.

Within seconds, the aircraft’s blades slow to a stop, and the doors open. Leon exits first, his perfectly cut hair frames his angular face perfectly, his eyebrows remain in their permanent, serious position. You almost scoff at his overly stoic appearance, but you decided that that wouldn’t be very professional to do, feet away from the President of the United States. Ashley follows after her rescuer quickly, her shoulders slumped with exhaustion, but her face lights up in a smile at the sight of her parents. Without a moment of hesitation, she rushes into the waiting arms of her father, sobbing as they embrace her.

You crack a smile at the sight, while Hunnigan is almost in tears. Your gaze shifts back to the blonde agent, who stands at attention a few feet away from you. Leon’s eyes are as distant as they always are, a solid cold blue, resembling ice. For a moment, you swore those same eyes met yours, but you weren’t sure. “Thank you, agent Kennedy, for bringing back my daughter safely. I’m forever indebted to you.” President Graham’s words are professional, while warm at the same time.

“Anytime, Mr. President.” Leon responded, in a mostly friendly manner. You can tell that he was exhausted, based on the heavy ring of purple that underlined his eyes, as well as the subtle sag of his shoulders. A large, loud part of you wanted to rush over, wrap your arms around him to take care of him. Like you would have if you were here, a couple months ago.

Ashley freed herself from her mother’s embrace, looking up at Leon with watery eyes, a grateful smile gracing her youthfully pretty face. “Thank you, Leon.” She hugged him, her arms wrapping underneath his arms, as she buried her face deeply into his chest.

“Take care, Ashley.” The blonde agent cracked a smile, returning her hug briefly. His head lifted to meet your eyes, and his smile fades. A pathetic, sad looking expression formed on his face, you smile anxiously, more akin to a grimace.

“We can talk more about paperwork and such tomorrow. Tonight, all of you go home. Get some rest, you deserve it.” Graham orders, his stern facade returning. “Good work, thank you.”

The crowd began to disperse, you yawn, as you walked back inside the building. You step into your office, as you begin to pack your stuff together, mentally noting a thanks to the president for gracing you with the ability to go home early. As you slid your bulky laptop into your work messenger bag, your door creaked open. “Hunnigan, I’m going home, we can go to Cowboy’s Tavern tomorrow. I’m fucking exhaust-” you look up, finally, and met the stormy blue eyes of Leon Scott Kennedy.

“What the fuck are you doing in here, Kennedy?” You spat out his name like venom, as your heart faltered. You felt sick, as he shut the door behind him, his expression unreadable. “I’m pretty sure I remember that you made it clear you didn’t want to see me again. Ever.” You avoid looking at him, choosing to focus on the task at hand; gathering your stuff. “I thought we were in agreement there.”

He tiredly mumbled your name, standing a foot away from you, on the opposite end of your desk. “I know what I said, just please, hear me out.” Leon’s voice is weak, raspy, as if he hadn’t had water in days. He pleaded your name, finally forcing you to look up at him, apprehension burning through your head.

For once, in months, the frozen walls of his soul were gone. Leaving his blue eyes open, desperate, all of his feelings pouring out of his soul like a cascade. Your eyes widened, as your mouth fell open. In the brief time you spent with him, you had never seen him cry. Until that moment, in your office, standing before you with wet salty tears carved through the collected dirt on his face. His hands grabbed onto the oak surface of your desk tightly, you were sure that the wood would splinter underneath his touch.

“I know you don’t want to see me, or talk to me. I broke your heart and I deserve it.” Leon blurted, reaching out to grab one of your hands. Instinctively, you flinched, but you didn’t pull your hand away. You let him hold it, as he leaned over your desk. “I just needed to see you, I needed to know that you’re okay.”

You blinked, thoroughly confused. “Leon, I,” you cleared your throat, “where is this coming from?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows. “We haven’t spoken in almost a year, now you come back into my office like this? What happened?” Your heart pounded wildly against your chest, like a caged bird, desperate to fly free. You felt nauseous, as your stomach churned and your thoughts spun violently.

“I almost lost myself,” Leon admitted, vaguely. “They infected me, I couldn’t-” he paused, inhaling deeply. “The only thing that kept me together was you, thinking about you.” The blonde exhaled through his nostrils, in a strange laugh. “I realized I couldn’t live without you, I thought I was protecting you, but I put everyone in danger instead.”

You studied his expression, swallowing the ball that had wadded in your throat nervously. His handsome face morphed in multiple expressions; desperation, fear, grief, and pain. It looked like he was in agony, as his large, calloused hand tightened over your smaller one. “What are you talking about?” You stammered, you felt breathless. “Leon, please tell me.”

“In Spain, Ashley and I were infected by Las Plagas, a parasite, similar to a virus.” He strained his words, struggling to get them out. “It allowed us to be controlled by an outside force, fuck, it felt like I was on fire. I thought I was going to die.”

You opened your mouth, but you were at a loss of words. Instead, you allowed him to get closer, as you pressed your lips against his temple. You allowed your hatred towards him to be silenced, for a moment, to comfort him. To provide sanctuary to his tormented mind, to allow the part of you that still loved him to shine though. “You’re okay now, I promise.” You whispered, scooting to sit on your desk, gently petting his back. Your fingers trailing over the bumps of his spine, as his damp forehead pressed against yours.

As always, his skin radiated heat, as your bodies sat magnetized closer together. Your positives were drawn to his negatives, as your hearts fused together in an electrifying sense. You shut your eyes, as the same thrilling sparks that you craved for so long echoed underneath your flesh. His soft sobs evened out, as he pulled away from you, breathing heavily. Your name was rough, yet gentle on his tongue. His warm hands trailed over the curve of your waist, before coming up to cup your face.

“I never meant to hurt you.” Leon’s voice was like broken glass, as his thumb traced the skin below your eyes. “I thought if you hated me, loathed me, you would be safer. I didn’t think I needed you.” He trailed his lips against your forehead, before planting a kiss between your eyes. “God, I was wrong, please, forgive me.”

You straightened up on your desk, even from your position, sitting on the desk, he still towered over you. His body leaned over yours, as he held himself up, with both of his hands holding the end of the wooden oak. You felt him pull away, afraid that he had done something wrong, thinking that he had angered you more. For less than a heartbeat, you wanted to scream at him, for breaking you apart. However, the longing desire for the man that you loved so much to be yours again, even for a moment, washed away the hatred you had felt for him.

Against your better judgment, you pressed your lips against his mouth. Leon’s pale rosy lips were chapped, and your nerves smoldered with him. Your lungs inhaled the scent of sweat and blood. As he returned your kiss, feverishly, you could taste the metallic indication of blood in his saliva. One of his hands pressed against your cheek bone, as he desperately tried to get closer to you. Your own palms traced over the firm muscles underneath his thin, stretchy, shirt.

He was almost overloading your senses, in the same way that he always did. You felt like you were going to collapse, as you steaded yourself with a hand by your hip. The other hand, found itself in his filthy ash-blonde hair, you didn’t care. You didn’t think you’d even care if he was covered head to toe in blood and rotten flesh. You missed him. You wanted him. You needed him. You wanted him to take over you, to melt into your body and permanently become a part of you.

As your lungs burned for oxygen, Leon’s mouth left yours, breathing heavily. “You’ve been smoking again.” He commented gruffly, trying to catch his own breath.

You huffed, in a hint of a laugh. “Got a problem with that?” You gasped as his lips pressed against your neck, effectively knocking you backwards. The curve of your spine rested against the uncomfortable oak surface, but you didn’t notice. Your nerves sparked wildly from Leon’s touch, as his chest leaned against yours.

“I thought I taught you better than that, sweetheart.” He murmured lowly against the shell of your ear. You hadn’t heard him call you that in what felt like decades, which made electricity shoot through your body, making you almost giggle with delight.

“Well,” you breathed, “you haven’t exactly been able to keep me on track.” You wheezed as he rested his body weight on one of his arms to use his spare hand to drift over your curves. His pupils dilated, and his breath heavy against your face.

“You don’t think I’ve kept my eye on you, do you?” The blonde asked, almost patronizing you. “I know what you’ve been up to. I know what bars you’ve gone to every weekend, I know you drink yourself into oblivion every night.” He groaned, his teeth softly scraped against the tender skin on your neck. “If only you knew that, I ached for you every single time I thought about you.”

The thought of him watching you, from the shadows, when you weren’t paying attention made your brain spin with delight. You moaned as your fingers dug into his scalp, as he nipped at the flesh that joined your neck to your collarbone. “It almost hurt, y’know, that I couldn’t call you mine when I saw you with other people.” Leon pulled his face away from your body, looking down at you with blown, ocean eyes.

“Be mine, again.”

You exhaled sharply, as his gaze burned into yours. As he waited for your permission to go ahead, to continue what you both had started. Without a second thought, you yanked his hair down so he’d kiss you, in a passionate clash of your lips. He grunted in surprise, but quickly recovered as he melted into your mouth. Leon Kennedy was yours again.

As you kissed, your hands trailed down to his rough, black jeans, his erection strained against the thick fabric. You smirked against his lips as you fumbled with his leather belt buckle, before toying with the smooth button. He hissed once you freed his solid boner from his pants, as he squeezed your thighs in delight. “I almost forgot how beautiful you are, baby.” Leon panted, carnally, quickly tearing your work blouse over your shoulders. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He buried his nose between your breasts, inhaling your scent deeply.

You whimpered as his wet tongue traced the outline of your skin, over your bra, as his hands squeezed your biceps. “Jesus, fuck Leon, take off my bra.” You grumbled, desperate.

He gave you a wolfish grin, “your wish is my command.” Without another word, his teeth snagged the center of your bra, as his hands went undeath you to unclasp the back. Once the clasp was undone, he pulled the garment away from you with his teeth, before tossing it in an unknown direction in your tiny office. Goosebumps puckered across your skin as your sensitive nipples were exposed to the cool air, you shivered in delight.

Wordlessly, Leon climbed off of you to crouch at the end of the desk, his head between your feet. You sat up, confused, ready to ask him if he was done; before he used a firm hand to lay you back down. “Take off your pants and panties. Now.”

The commanding, desperate tone of his voice made your brain spin and heat pool between your legs. Without a single complaint, you yanked off your dress pants and panties. You made sure to aim the lacy undergarment at your partner’s head, who caught it with ease. Amused, he studied the fabric, before flinging it back to you. “Familiar.” Leon teased, before pulling your lower half over the edge of the desk.

You yelped as papers scattered onto the floor, as he held onto your ankles. Like a starving man, he buried his head in between your thighs, the hair on his head tickling your skin as his breath rushed against your swollen clit. “Oh Jesus Christ,” you groaned, as your head tilted backwards. Leon littered biting kisses alongside the underside of your upper thighs, looking up at you with half-lidded, smug eyes, before pressing a firm kiss against your sensitive bud.

You hissed in pleasure, as your toes curled inside your shoes. Your entire body flinched at the sudden, yet familiar feeling, as sparks began to echo from your pelvis. “I missed this, I missed you.” Leon murmured against your cunt as he dragged his tongue up the slit. You squeaked, adjusting to the sudden intrusion. “You taste as good as I remembered, sweetness.” Two of his fingers slipped inside you as his lips remained on your clit. You arched your back, giving him easier access as he devoured you. Your hips jerked as your moans grew in pitch, your muscles clenched tighter with every flick of his tongue and thrust of his fingers.

You cursed him and his ability to absolutely consume pussy. You almost thought he was attempting to eat you alive. You fruitlessly tried to grab onto something, to steady yourself, but all you could manage was crumpled up paper (that you hoped weren’t important) and sliding your fingers across the smooth surface of your desk. “Fuck! Leon!” You moaned as he curled his fingers against the sweet spot inside you, with ease.

Without intending to, the tightening sensation inside you suddenly snapped. You gasped, as white, blue and black sparked through your vision as you felt every nerve in your body explode. Like fireworks, scattered underneath your heated skin. Your jaw fell open as you grabbed ahold of Leon’s hair to steady yourself, making him hiss delightfully. He didn’t stop, instead, he continued to finger you as you rode out your orgasm. Monster.

As your high began to fade away, Leon pulled away from your soaked pussy. Covered in your own juices and his salvia. You could see the cocktail of his actions across the lower half of his face, reflecting the orange light of the sunset outside your window. You panted heavily, your arm resting on your damp forehead as he looked down at you, affectionately.

“Do you want to continue?” He asked, with a charming, gentle question. His lips pressing against your cheek, fingers filing through strands of your hair. You nodded, rapidly, as desire began to build back up throughout your body.

“Please,”

Leon grinned at you, before standing back up to completely undo his belt and pants. With an effortless move, he stripped his combat pants away, alongside his boxers. His dick was delightfully curved and thick. You had to force your eyes away from staring. Gently, he pulled your hips against his pelvis, as he stood at the end of the desk. He pressed the head of his erection against your prepared hole, and looked down at you.

You nodded encouragingly, with a smile, as he began to push himself inside you. You both gasped at the sensation, it felt familiar yet foreign at the same time. Leon let out a breathless moan, as he adjusted to the feeling of your heat around his dick. “Fuck,” he breathed out your name like a prayer, “you feel so good.” Without a second thought, he began to thrust inside you, as he began to rush through your veins.

Your body thrilled at the sensation of Leon Kennedy rushing through your skin again, you felt him inside every fiber of your being. Like a drug, an aphrodisiac, you could never get enough of it. You moaned out his name, as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, bringing him closer to you. His forehead pressed against yours as your lips parted, looking into your lust hazed eyes. He groaned his desires to you, as his hands grabbed onto your hips tighter, nails digging into your plush flesh.

You didn’t just need him, he needed you too. In a knotted twist of fate that ensured that you could never live without him. You knew it meant the same to him as well, of course, as he pressed wanton kisses to the side of your face, whispering the words you loved to hear against your ear. You had never truly hated him, you realized, much to your own personal disdain. You had always loved him, even when you had denied it.

“I love you,” Leon moaned against your skin, in a raspy voice. “I always have, and I always will.”

You almost laughed in joy, but instead, you simply responded as breathlessly as he did, “I love you too.”

With a grunt, he came inside you, his hips pressed against yours, without an inch to spare between your bodies. With a wheezy chuckle, he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily as he emptied himself deep within you. You pressed a kiss to his temple, soothingly stroking his hair as he came back down to Earth.

You assured yourself for as long as you lived, you would always be the person who knew Leon Kennedy better than you knew yourself. He would know you better than anyone as well, forever bound by the allure that drew you closer together. You weren’t sure if you believed in soulmates, but you knew damn well that there was no one else in the universe who you loved more than him.

---

reblogs greatly encouraged and appreciated. Thanks for reading!

#resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennendy angst #re4r #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy

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whohasthecards · 7 months

Text

They didn't even notice he was gone the first four days. The first day was a Friday, everyone was everywhere, rushing to get shit done to enjoy their weekend. Next two days were the weekend and the group was scattered. Sure, a couple of them were in the Hard Deck, but it wasn't unusual for Hangman to miss out for a while. Heck, one of them could have sworn they saw Hangman leaving the bar, a lady charmed by his side. The fourth day was the same as the first, everyone was busy, the group didn't really have a reason for all of them to be together.

The fifth day had a scheduled lecture with Mav, followed by a hop.

Phoenix arrived 10 minutes before the scheduled lecture, eyes scanning the empty classroom, before her lips tugged into a smug smile. She beat Hangman and Rooster, today.

Rooster followed suite, plopping down on Phoenix's left.

Harvard and Yale came next, then Bob, Coyote, Fritz, Halo, Fanboy and Payback, Omaha.

Then Mav.

"Good morning, aviators, this is your captain speaking!" Mav said cheerily, sauntering in the room to set down his files at the desk.

Phoenix narrowed her eyes at the empty desk.

Late. The man is probably just late.

Hangman was never late. In reality, the man never let anyone hanging. Not for all the years Phoenix knew the man.

Navy's Golden Boy, Hangman, the perfect officer.

"Anyone know where Hangman is?" Mav said nodding his head at the empty desk.

The classroom was silent.

"Coyote?" Mav prompted.

"I don't know, sir, we messaged yesterday, but I haven't heard from him today," Coyote said, uneasily.

"Well," Mav said, pausing, "I guess he's late for the first time, I'll give him a pass as long as he shows up by the time for hops. But, I will put him to the same standard as all of you, so he'll just have to learn on the fly what you will be discussing here." Mav said giving a grin.

"He wouldn't want anything less, sir," Coyote said easily and Phoenix nodded at that.

The lecture continued, but all throughout, Phoenix noticed everyone (including herself) glance at the door every now and then. Mav, more often the others, given by the way he'd frown at the door, then scrunch his forehead at the clock above it. Coyote was discretely typing quickly at his phone whenever Mav turned towards the board. Rooster's moustache was twitching more than usual.

"Okay, guys, suit up, the groups are listed on the board, group A will go first, Coyote, if Hangman doesn't come you'll substitute for him in group C," Mav said, nodding at them before he left the classroom, and whipped out his phone.

---

When they were going to their jets, Mav told Coyote that he was going up with both groups B & C.

---

The hop ended and still no Hangman in sight.

---

Dagger groupchat 80sChickFlick: Did someone get lost going to work today? PhePhe: Come on Bagman, look alive

---

Jake-y Yesterday Wile. E: 'm goin to Coszco, need anything? Jake-y: Nah I'm good Jake-y: Maybe does fruit snacks... Wile. E: Got them for you Today Wile. E: Come on man where you at? Wile. E: jake jake jake Wile. E: Come on, man, just reply, please? Jacob Jake-y: me good, really, jus tire Wile. E: Give me more than that, buddy, do you need anything?

---

To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: Absent - Lieutenant Commander Jacob Seresin Good day Captain Mitchell, Lieutenant Commander Seresin called at 0743 hours stating that he is sick and will not be at work today and potentially tomorrow. Regards, Ensign Jameson

---

Coyote and Mav both arrived in front of Hangman's apartment at the same time, they stared at each other awkwardly.

"Great, I was worried I was going to be overstepping, but with you here, I can just say I was tagging along with you," Mav said brightly as he clapped Coyote in the back.

Coyote snorted, "Sure, Mav," he said as he turned back towards the door and knocked loudly. "JAKEY, WAKEY WAKEY, I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE, BUDDY!"

"Jesus, kid, didn't expect you to that set of lungs in you," Mav muttered.

They waited a few seconds, not hearing any response. Coyote knocked again before shrugging and pulling out a key and used it to open the door.

Mav didn't question it.

Pretty small apartment. Empty. Bare. Kitchen on one side, living room on the other. A small table was right beside the door, Jake's car keys, wallet, and a picture of two young midshipmen, laughing together. A door at the end of the small room, Coyote went to one of them and knocked loudly, once again.

"Jake!" Coyote shouted before twisting the door knob, letting out an exclamation of surprise when it twisted open and forward. Coyote dashed into the room, "Jake!?"

Mav immediately set down the plastic bag of food he brought in the kitchen counter before going inside the room after Coyote. He saw Coyote already sitting at the edge of a bed, fuzzing on a half-awake Hangman, burritoed up in blankets, messy hair, blinking slowly as Coyote cupped a palm on his forehead.

" 'Avy?" Hangman croaked out, voice sounding like glass.

"Good morning to you, buddy, how long have you been feeling sick?"

Hangman took a deep breath to answer, and Mav winced in sympathy noticing how the boy had a hard time breathing and was sniffling hard, as if he was congested. Very congested.

"Here, kiddo, blow your nose, first," Mav said handing Jake the box of tissues from the bedside table.

Jake slowly propped himself up on the headboard and blew, hard. But his congested sniffles still remained after a whole minute of mucus ejection.

Jake blushed as he looked at both Mav and Javy then looked down at his lap, "Sorry."

"Nothing to apologize for, except for not telling me how long you've been sick, how long has this been going on?" Javy said, collecting the used tissues and quickly disposing them.

Jake furrowed his brow, "Dunno, headache Friday, then slowly got worst, was the worst today, thought I'd be better by today, swear," Jake muttered.

"Okay, kid, where's your thermometer? Did you drink something?"

"Don't have a thermometer, drank some day cold/flu pill things, didn't know they made day and night pills," Jake said flopping back down in bed.

"Did you eat?" Javy asked.

"Don't want to, not hungry," Jake said, turning away from them in bed.

"Well you got to, buddy, I brought some soup, Ice made, it's some bone broth," Mav said laying a gentle hand on Jake's shoulder trying to coax him to turn back.

"No, tired," Jake whined.

"Jacob, come on, dude, you gotta eat," Javy said rolling his eyes.

"Javy," Mav said evenly, "Why don't you heat up the broth, I'll take care of him here in the meantime, just microwave it."

"Okay, Mav, you deal with grumpy over here," Javy said patting Jake's head before leaving, easily dodging a clumsy swat that headed his way.

Mav chuckled at his boys before moving closer to Jake, "Okay, Jake, you have to sit up, don't know how you can breathe, lying straight down."

"It's not comfy sitting up," Jake muttered.

"You'll be able to breathe, and I'll make it comfy, buddy, just wait a bit." Mav said dashing to the living room to grab some couch cushions. "Okay, buddy, help me out here, just get up for a bit."

Jake grumbled, but complied, slowly sitting up, and Mav immediately placed the cushion behind the boy, helping him settle in and tucking the blanket back up high on his shoulders. Mav placed the back of his hand on the boy's cheek, frowning at the heat emanating from it.

"Where's your bathroom, buddy?" Mav asked and Jake pointed at the door across the bed.

Mav quickly went inside, and found a small, clean, towel which he immediately drenched with cool water, and wringed it out. He sat back down on the edge of the bed, where Jake was staring back at him, eyes half-closed.

"Just need to cool you off a bit, okay?" Mav smiled gently running a hand through Jake's hair and Jake nodded a bit.

Mav started gently wiping Jake's face with the damp towel, continuing down to his neck, leaving the towel to rest there. Mav ran a hand through Jake's hair and kept at it before Javy came in 5 seconds later with the soup.

"Food's here, buddy," Mav said, scooting beside Jake, to help prop him up more, with an arm behind the boy's shoulders.

Javy went to Jake's other side and held up a spoonful of soup to Jake's lips, quieting Jake's potential protests with a raised brow. Jake grumbled as he sipped the broth, resting his head on Mav's shoulder every now and then. Javy feeding Jake a spoonful of broth at a time until the bowl was empty.

"Want some more, buddy?" Javy asked, and Jake shook his head no, hiding his face in Mav's shoulder, making Mav chuckle and run a hand through the back of the boy's hair.

"How about a water to wash it all down, then, son?" Mav asked as Javy handed him a water bottle, already cracked open for his brother.

Jake looked up, as Mav brought the bottle up to his lips, making sure that Jake won't choke as he drank his fill, before turning his head away indicating that he was done. Resting his head back on Mav's shoulder, eyes closed.

Mav looked up to see Javy frowning in concern, his forehead scrunched up in worry.

"He'll be okay, Javy," Mav said evenly.

"He didn't tell me," Javy muttered.

"Stubborn." Mav said beckoning Javy to come closer. "But he was able to let his walls down because of you."

Javy walked over to Mav's other side, where Mav immediately tugged Javy down, making Javy yelp as he bent over as Mav hooked his other arm around Javy's shoulders to bring the boy down to kiss him in the temple. Letting him go to stand up straight, but not letting go of his hand.

Mav smiled up at the boy's shocked expression, "You're a good big brother, son." Enjoying as Javy's faced flushed.

---

Mav bundles both of them back to his and Iceman's house for some (a lot of) TLC.

Phoenix visits Hangman's apartment after they left, calling Javy in worry as Hangman isn't answering the door. Driving quickly to Mav's house once she found out where they were.

Most of the Dagger Squad visits.

Jake is back in the air in a few days.

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suzukiblu · 2 months

Text

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for Jan behind the cut; mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )

The hour goes pretty quick, either way, and Kon mostly keeps the kids distracted, and even a little bit entertained. He’s a performer at heart anyway, so he figures it’s his responsibility.

If it's not, he's gonna make it his responsibility, at least for the next hour.

A lot of people clear out of the camp in that hour in erratic fits and spurts, with alternate versions of their families or friends or just themselves, and Kon feels a little better about the idea of clearing out himself. He'll keep an ear on the camp until it's all cleared out, for sure, but at least he thinks it should be okay to leave it.

Jon needs–somebody, yeah, before something happens. Something always happens, when you're wearing the “S”.

Or you just find something that you have to happen to. Like, ethically speaking or whatever.

Kon figures he can keep an eye on Jon until either they all get home or this reality's Superman notices he's got an extra kid around. Assuming he's got a Jon here to recognize the heartbeat of, anyway. He probably does, if Kon's around and recognizable in the tabloids. Like, the timeline should be to that point, is all. And obviously Lois is gonna be a thing, so–yeah, he's gotta have a Jon by now. Maybe actually an older one than this one, come to think, but it's not like Clark wouldn't recognize his heartbeat anyway. Perfect recall and all, and he's had Jon's heartbeat memorized all his life.

Kon's pretty sure Clark still doesn't know his, but . . .

Never mind. Not important. Stupid thing to think about.

To care about.

Kon swallows. Keeps grinning for the kids, keeps coming up with new games for them to play, and waves goodbye to each one who gets collected by an aid worker and taken to whoever’s come to take care of them.

He wonders, again, if Ma and Pa would've come for him, if . . .

Stupid. Really, really stupid.

He wouldn't bother them with something that stupid anyway. He's a superhero. And he can take care of himself. He always has, hasn't he?

He'll take care of himself here too, even if . . .

Even if . . .

Kon tries not to think about . . . Kara. About Karen. Or “Paige”, or whatever she's going by now.

If she's still alive to be going by it, anyway.

If he isn't currently following in her footsteps, and won't ever see his reality again. Or her. Or . . . anyone he knows.

People who look like them, sure. People who came from the same concept of a person as them.

But not his own versions of them.

Not the versions who he belongs to.

He doesn't know what he'll do, if he can't get home this time.

He doesn’t . . .

He feels Rita approaching with his TTK–recognizes the shape of her body and the cut of her hair and the specific chip in the corner of her clipboard–and glances towards her, and is mildly surprised by who she’s with. It’s someone he definitely recognizes, but it’s not anyone he expected. At least not here and now, anyway.

“Your ride’s here, sir!” Rita says, looking as relieved as every aid worker who’s come up with a local host for somebody. Well–understandably, he figures.

“Hey, Rita. Hey, Alfie! No rest for the wicked, or just too many cooks in the kitchen again?” Kon greets with a grin, which is the easiest code phrase to use here that Tim gave him to start off with if he ever ran into an interdimensional Bat and the local Tim’s obviously gotta be the one who sent him, and Jon grabs onto his sleeve and blurts: “It’s dark this morning!”

Okay, Kon doesn’t recognize that one, but it’s definitely a Bat-phrase too. Jon was not particularly smooth about making it smooth, for one thing.

Alfred–impeccable as always in the full buttling uniform that Kon has maybe only seen him out of twice, and both of those times were blood-drenched emergency situations–smiles at them both without visibly reacting past that, though Kon hears his heartbeat spike in recognition. Since he was presumably expecting to see the pair of them, or at least him, Kon can only assume that’s code-phrase-related.

“Hello, Master Bruce,” Alfred says, smooth and pleasant, and Kon . . . blinks. “Please allow me to escort you and your young charge to the manor.”

Wait.

What?

“Uh,” Kon says slowly. “O . . . kay? Uh–thanks, Alfie.”

“Of course, sir,” Alfred says, and his pleasant smile turns just a little less polite and a little more sincere. “Interdimensionally displaced or not, we’d hate to leave you out in the cold. No matter what time of night it is.”

Well, “out in the cold” is what Tim told him to look for in response to “no rest for the wicked”, and he’s betting the “time of night” comment is meant for Jon from the way the kid perked up at hearing it, so . . . yeah, alright then. This is apparently just what’s happening now.

#jan #wip: mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees

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orangepeetals · 6 months

Text

YOU BELONG WITH ME ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ (pt2)

(playlist for a star series)

peeta mellark x f.reader !!

pt1. / next part

Summary: Peeta and Katniss have kept their history of lovers during the games, your heart has been going through constant suffering when seeing them together but you are more worried about Peeta’s survival.

a/n: i speak Spanish so the story was originally written in Spanish and then I translated it into English, plz don’t be rude if there is a mistake !! 😞

The following days were torture, you didn’t take off the TV and you couldn’t close an eye, you were alert at all times, you were a total disaster every time Peeta was on the screen, you were scared. You were grateful that Haymitch in his drunkenness was the most sane at the time, you couldn’t think correctly. The girl who was with Katniss had died, it had been so sad that for a few seconds you forgot about Peeta, you admired how noble ‘the girl on fire’ could be, you didn’t think she had such a kind heart.

“Everything is solved, y/n” Haymitch’s voice took you out of your thoughts, feeling the anxiety eat you again, you didn’t understand anything he was talking about.

“What do you mean?” You watched him with confusion, he simply raised his glass of alcohol in the direction of the TV and you just watched, a few minutes later the change of rules was reported, there could be two winners if they were from the same district, you couldn’t explain how happy you were, you knew that Katniss Everdeen wouldn’t be so bad to just do nothing, you weren’t wrong, because when Katniss finally found him, she helped him with his wounds and they found a shelter. You and Haymitch were in charge of sending them things so that they could be cured, although they could not send enough, Katniss risked her life to get the medicine and now you were indebted to her. You tried to ignore the kisses and the displays of affection that they had to show on camera because thanks to that they could both be winners. The rest of the games were still just as bad but you were calmer now that Peeta was not alone, your heart stopped when they wanted to eat the berries, you knew they wouldn’t take this well.

Time passed quickly, all that experience had left you in shock, you were able to return to reality when you felt Peeta’s arms enveloping you tightly, you looked at him as if you were afraid that he was going to break and you overflowed in tears again, he was there, with you, hugging you with love, it was incredible, the warmth of his body against yours made you feel hopeful, his arms were a perfect place to live forever.

“It’s good that you’re alive, Peeta, I was scared” Your voice was weak and choppy, you saw him eyes full of tears and filled him face with kisses, caressed him hair and listened to him heartbeat, as strong as whenever he was near you, you let out a sigh and separated from him. You saw Katniss talking to Haymitch and you just hugged her, you took her off guard but she reciprocated your hug, maybe she didn’t hate you so much, it was a silent hug until you decided to talk. “Thank you Katniss, I will really be indebted to you forever, thank you for taking care of him, you are a good girl, I am happy to know that you will return home”

——————————

The return to district 12 was quiet, you could talk more with Katniss and know a little more about her, even though it was closed, at least you were sure that everything about the romance with Peeta was only for the cameras, it’s not that you doubted him love for you but naturally felt insecurities to see your boyfriend swearing love for another girl in front of all Panem.

You hated having to relive what it meant to win some games, being one of the mentors you had to accompany the winners in various public activities, although as always, you did your best to avoid being exposed, you hated participating in anything that had to do with the capitol.

You were at the party for the winners, you were uncomfortable having to socialize and act as if you were happy to be there, the only thing that gave you joy was to see him, to see his charm every time he talked to someone, the outfit he had made him look a thousand times more handsome than he was, you were holding back by throwing yourself on him. You drank from your glass and your eyes met his while he danced next to Katniss, they just smiled and you felt like vomiting, you didn’t know if it was because of alcohol, stress or jealousy, you tried to act calmly and got out of there quickly, going to a balcony that was somewhat away from the people. The moon kept you company in your anguish, you watched the starry sky as you thought, you thought what a life would be like far from all this, you thought about what it would have been like if you had died in that arena, maybe it would not have changed Peeta’s destiny and he would still be with Katniss Everdeen now, he looked happy next to her, even if you knew that it was all a farce, you couldn’t help but feel bad, you wanted to be in Peeta’s arms all the time as it was before, before everything was ruined by the hunger games. She was a thousand times better than you, you were just smart but too cowardly, she is too brave, skillful and determined, you were nothing next to her.

Thoughts were driving you crazy, you wanted to cry now, you felt bad about yourself, you wished you had died in the hunger games, maybe now you would be free, free from Snow’s hands, free of everything that could harm you. Some hands hugging your waist brought you back, you could recognize its smell from miles, you smiled slightly and turned around, finding a rather worried Peeta, you were not good at hiding this kind of thing, at least never with him.

“I couldn’t find you anywhere, are you okay, beautiful?” His voice was a caress to your sad heart, you nodded and hugged him, hiding your face in his neck and leaving some soft kiss in the area, you felt how his grip became stronger, he caressed your waist and you wanted to freeze that moment, finally it was you and him under the moon, even if it was for an ephemeral time. “You look so beautiful that I could tear off your dress right now, if you allow it” You let out a laugh at the bottom when you heard his words, you messed up her hair a little and kissed her lips repeatedly, you knew that they didn’t have long before they had to come back with the crowd, so you appreciated every second by their side, since Peeta had left the arena they had not had so much time to be together, they were too exposed to the public eye, so they had to take care of their actions at all times and everywhere, anywhere outside their Intimacy, you and he were nothing, that broke your heart but there was no turning back.

——————————————

The uprisings were getting worse and worse, the act of the berries had really left more consequences than you imagined, Snow had them in his sights, he did not believe the facade of the lovers and you knew that very bad things could happen if the situation in the districts did not improve, there were strikes, riots and destruction, people were revealing themselves, they were opening their eyes.

“They should get married” You muttered between your teeth but loud enough for them to hear you, your eyes were glued to the ground while you thought about your words, if they publicly sealed their eternal love, perhaps they could divert attention from the rebellion.

“What?” You found Peeta’s look confused, you could see the sadness in his eyes when he said those words, you loved him with every part of your being but you need him to be safe.

“She’s right, maybe with that Snow will stay calm for a while” Haymitch’s voice confirmed your idea, you felt your heart beating hard, everything wasn’t supposed to go on like this. Peeta nodded and got up, heading to another lane, your eyes filled with tears.

“I understand that this is painful for you, I want you to know that we will do everything possible to take care of Peeta, he has protected me too” Katniss took your hand and stroked your back, you knew that this was also painful for her, she had to marry someone she did not love even having a person who was waiting for her at home, Peeta had the purest soul, he was always going to do him best to take care of him environment, even if he had to do things that would harm him.

“Thank you Katniss, I know it’s difficult for you but you count on us” You hugged her for a few seconds before you got up, you had to talk to Peeta. “I’ll go talk to him, I’ll be back in a while.”

You knocked on the door of his room, you didn’t want to have this conversation, after a few seconds that seemed to be hours, he opened his door, his eyes were red and crystallized, you could notice that he had cried, his face looked sad and tired, you pushed him into the room and closed the door behind you. You hugged him tightly and in a matter of seconds he collapsed in your arms, he was as vulnerable as that time you had to say goodbye to him and enter the arena by yourself, you wanted to end the world and that it was just you and him forever. “I’m so sorry, Peeta, my love, I just want you to be fine, we’ll be fine”

“I will do it, I will marry Katniss, we will do it as public as possible, we will smile at the cameras and when everything calms down, you and I will return to our normal lives, anyway, I don’t care what I have to do, I will not be a piece of his game” Although the blond made efforts to talk without the tears beating him, you knew that he was serious, you knew that he was clever and that he knew that he would always manage to cause some impact on the masses, as you were also clear that there would never be a normality again and that anyone could ever Respect their relationship. “Let’s enjoy this moment, now you are the only thing that belongs to me, you are the only thing I can keep secret without anyone wanting to take it and expose it to the world, my little star, you are mine and I will always be yours.”

His words were so soft and promising, you were his and he was yours, you were willing to leave everything behind to achieve the life you both needed.

———————————————

Here is the part 2!! i really want to keep writting this fic so if u like it, i’ll give u more parts!! :D

#Spotify #peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #the hunger games #peeta mellark fluff

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hiramaris · 9 months

Text

Kiss It Off Me

CHAPTER 1

Summary:

A story revolving around the newly arrived resident farmer in the eyes of the personified perfection, the sunflower of Pelican Town herself, Haley. Or. When Haley finally met the person that caused ripples in what was once a stagnant town, and she didn’t know how to handle such massive change.

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Notes:

Haley's heart events are just soooo wifey, especially after marriage. Her character development is well written off but I just can't help but notice that something is missing, like the heart events are just not that connected in some way. Stardew is an absolute gem don't get me wrong. I'd like to try and connect what I think is missing which is the reason this fic is created. P.S. Second try in making fanfiction. I apologize for any future grammatical errors or whatever. English is not my primary language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: None so far? Just Haley being her usual self

Gif from reddit.com

Winter 25

Immobile.

Stagnant.

Bland.

What words could possibly do justice to describe this sleepy town? Pelican Town had its charms sure. It’s peaceful, the air is fresh, and would never choke you on your sleep plus it gives a really nice tan so Haley wouldn’t really complain.

But it was just so... boring. Was that the right term?

The people are meh, nosy, and just as bland but they are good neighbors though don't get her wrong. They look after them— her and Emily when their parents can’t.

Ugh.

Them again. Thinking about them just makes her angry— blood boiling and all that, and well… sad which is infuriating.

How can you just leave your kids just to go follow your own dreams and travel? And then act like you care just by sending some half-hearted letter? Sending a letter now and then was hardly enough to make up for their absence. How low could that be?

Emily doesn’t think so. But what does she know? Her cooking was as bland as the town, and her obsession with crystals and hippie clothes was just plain ridiculous. She knows nothing.

Her sister is anything but pessimistic. She saw the light in everything whereas Haley ever saw them through the lens of her camera.

Capturing a single moment in a photograph was a thousand times more vivid and alive than the bleak and colorless reality she was currently living in.

She should be in college right now, pursuing her dreams, being the center of attention, and having boys falling over themselves to impress her. Or she would have been running her own photography studio by now in a city that never sleeps, schmoozing with some famous photographers and carving a niche for herself in the cut-throat world of photography.

But no, because here she was, stuck in a six-mile drive from the nearest city, life as directionless as the people in here.

Why am I even staying here? She wonders.

Oh, yeah— grandma.

This house is hers. Her house is the only thing that made her feel that Grandma is still here, with them. Even though Haley is talking big about leaving this town, she knew to herself that she doesn’t have the strength to just leave it just like that. Which is why they both tried to keep it tidy and well... avoiding it from falling apart.

Aside from that, there was nothing to do here. The only things keeping her sane were her camera, her phone, and the clothes she ordered online.

Oh, and of course, her best friend, Alex.

He's the only one— aside from Emily and of course, the Mullner residence, Granny and George are good people even though George is grumpy all the time, that she's able to have a decent conversation. She and Alex are, after all, not the sharpest tool in the shed, and shares almost the same brain cell.

He’s that typical jock boy, ripped as hell but in terms of brain, well… meh. Not like Haley's any better so who is she to judge?

They went to the same school, belonged to the same clique, and were both popular, of course. He’s here to practice his grid ball or whatever but Haley knew better.

Alex, despite being the dungus that he is, has a lot on his plate already. He needs the peace this town could offer.

And maybe, maybe I need it, too.

Maybe being away from the city has a good cause, despite her constant complaints, this town has been her home for the past six years after all.

But she just really couldn’t help but dwell on this stupid thought of hers of being stagnant and directionless at this time of the year.

Winter.

Ugh. It’s stupidly cold outside and there’s no way she’s walking in six-inch snow just to get a quality photo, which isn’t much considering the lighting outside does not satisfy her at all. The only, and probably one good thing about winter is peppermint coffee. It's hot, minty, and makes her feel warm while making her mouth worthy of being sucked on— err... that's a want that cannot be sated as of the moment.

The bachelors in this town suck for real. They are not even worthy of a single glance. Apart from Alex, of course, but he's a friend so... no.

And what's made it double suck is that she ran out of peppermint coffee. Pierre is out of stock and there's no way she'll let herself be caught alive inside that creep manager's store that runs Joja or whatever.

Now she's stuck sitting at the table, devouring a massive pink cake that could feed an entire family, enduring a coffee so bland it makes her want to try and drink tea.

She hates tea.

Oh yeah, she's also holding a note and a sunflower in her other hand.

She doesn't want to read the letter but considering the gifts she just received, it’s probably just the same lame-ass apology about being unable to be here on her birthday this coming Spring 14th. Not that it mattered anymore; it had been two years of absence, and she had grown used to it by now.

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the note onto the table, debating whether to toss it into the fireplace or tear it to shreds or whatever.

If it's just another excuse, she doesn’t want to hear it.

"Haaaay!" And there's a familiar voice.

"If you don't have peppermint coffee with you I swear to Yoba—"

"What's the case, long face?" He quipped. "And no, I don't have anything with me."

She looked up from her cake, finding Alex strolling in their kitchen with one of his shit-eating grins, hair covered with a concerning amount of snow. She grimaced, "sometimes I wonder why I'm friends with you."

He feigned a hurt expression, "I thought you love me though."

"According to gossip, maybe but really, I don't." She deadpanned.

He cackled at the mention of that. At the center of the gossip mill passing down from Marnie, Jodi, and Caroline, maybe Robin, too, and probably all the yoga club, is he and Haley dating. Which was absurd, to be honest.

"No, really, Hay." He finally turns serious. "What's up? What's got your face looking like that?"

"It's just the stupid climate." Haley tried to lie. She didn't want to stir up drama at the moment. Alex frowned, catching up with her lie almost immediately. He caught sight of the letter Haley threw earlier. "Alex don't—"

Too late. He already got it. He sat down next to her as he read the contents of the note, his brows furrowing in what she assumes is annoyance. "Parents, huh? Same old, same old?" He raised an eyebrow.

Haley huffed and snatched the letter away. "Yes, the usual."

"Well," Alex propped his elbow on the backrest, a sly grin returning to his face. "I just got the perfect news that might take your mind off things."

Haley arched a perfect eyebrow, curious. Gossip wasn't his usual forte.

"Spill."

"A new farmer is coming to town."

Haley's fork paused in mid-air. "Uh... I'm not sure how to react to that, and what's so great about it?"

His smile widened. "I heard she's from Zuzu City."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Why? Surprised another Zuzu native is coming here?"

"No, you dungus." She slapped his hand attempting to take a slice of her cake. "I heard you correctly, right? You said the farmer's a she? A girl is taking over that farm?"

"Yes," Alex confirmed, finally snagging a bite of cake. Haley makes a scrunched face in mock disgust. "The farmer's a she. Old man Railey's granddaughter actually. What's the problem though?" He asked in mouthfuls.

Haley stood up to grab another spoon. No way she's getting his imaginary cooties. Alex doesn't seem to mind; it only further encourages him to eat some more. "Because it’s weird." She said as she sat down. "Farming isn't exactly a girl's job, especially for a city girl like her. I bet you she wouldn't last a month."

"Not all girls are like you, Hay— ow! What's that for?!" He rubbed his ribs where Haley just nudged with her boniest elbow of all time.

"As I was saying before being rudely interrupted," she rolled her eyes, "farming is all dirt and nasty, smelly clothes. That farm was barely run by old man Raileigh before he died. What could possibly a city girl like his granddaughter could do with that rundown farm? I bet you it’s already smoldering by now."

"Good point," Alex said as he continued eating. Haley swear to Yoba all this idiot does is eat and relax in here.

He has a diet, right? So does she, and they're like eating a fat block of sugar right now.

Whatever. Pink cake has always been an exemption from all her seasonal dietary plans.

"But I guess we'll have to wait and see; don't you think so?" Alex turns to her after a few moments of silence. "I heard she's around our age. If it's true that farming is as difficult as they say, the least we can do is make her feel welcomed."

Haley barely nods in acknowledgment.

This town is like a pond, where everything that enters stays and everyone already there remains. The city is a raging storm with ocean waves ready to swallow you if you go against the flow. A lot of people there has a sense of direction, one Haley aspires to have, and what Pelican lacks. You can't, at all costs, be still and unmoved and some people just couldn't do that.

And those people who couldn't stand the pressure, come here, like a moth drawn to a flame, seeking the mundanity Pelican Town could offer them. Perhaps they have grown weary of the constant hustle and bustle. Maybe city life has been too much. Maybe modern life has been too much for this farmer.

Who knows?

But one thing Haley doesn't like, and what keeps her unmoved and still, is change. Adapting, and adjusting isn't meant for her. It took years before she could finally settle a lifestyle in this town, and another two years of adjustment when her parents decided it would be a good idea to abandon them and go travel. She knew where to go, where townspeople go just so she could avoid interacting with them, she accustomed herself to their culture, and the perfect spots for taking pictures. She has it all memorized and planned out perfectly.

And this farmer will be an anomaly to her perfectly (not as perfect as she thought) crafted routine. New face, a new attitude, and just an overall new person she might be obligated to talk to for the sake of introduction.

Pelican is a stagnant pond, yet this farmer, this alien to her world, she's not yet even here but she is already starting to cause ripples.

And Haley doesn't know what to think of it.

~~~~~

Notes:

The title was inspired by Cigarettes After Sex' Kiss it off me. Their songs are such *chef's kiss* and whilst I was listening to this song, it kind of, sorta, reminded me of how my farmer sees her wife. Thus kabooOm this fic is born

Edit: Because I'm procrastinating and I made sure to finish off my other story first, I decided now to transfer this story from Ao3 to Tumblr

#stardew valley #stardew farmer #haley x farmer #haley x reader #stardew fanfic #stardew alex #stardew haley #sdv

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cyberrose2001 · 1 year

Note

hi hope you're well, a kinda long text coming...

with all the requests FILLED (literally) with joy with optimus, I shall be the one to break it HAHAHA so... can you do like a scenario where the reader and optimus are happy living their lives with the sparklings (imagine triplets!!!) everything is perfect but then........

optimus wakes up from his dream and realizes it all, the perfect family is not real, the reader is not alive, not being able to live with it, he suffers everyday bc of those dreams, he traps himself in this "reality" of his dreams (like that episode fr tfp on Megatron's mind) and isolate himself

hope that's not to sad >:) and if you're comfortable writing this, if not sorry.

Thank you author ❤️❤️❤️

TFP Optimus x human!fem!reader

you're very welcome anon!! this took waaaay too many drafts HAHA but im quite happy with it now, this is such a sad concept and now i just wanna give op a hug :(

I should also mention that I left the details of the sparklings biology unspecified. Whether you prefer them to be cybertronian, human or half-and-half is up to you! <3

Warnings: Angst, SFW

Word count: 1436

“Optimus, honey?” The wonderful voice of his lover called out to him. Closing the front door behind him, Optimus breathes a sigh of relief. Her soft voice calling out his name plays on repeat in his processor. “Is that you? Could you come and help me for a second?”

He had no idea how he got so lucky, to start a family with who he considers the most beautiful specimen in the known universe. Together, they both created three sparklings, all triplets and it was further proof that either Primus or another deity of life had seen the good that Optimus had done and blessed him with both her and sparklings. The day he found out that she was pregnant with them was the first time in his life that he experienced pure joy, the second time was when she gave birth to his little ones and officially became a sire.

With a soft smile, Optimus follows her voice to the playroom of the quaint house he calls home. He is thankful that mass displacement technology exists, allowing him to comfortably live in the house with his family. He observes from the doorway as his sparklings play with stuffed toys and little building blocks, making an absolute mess of the room. He clears his throat and leans against the doorway with folded servos, “I hope you young ones are going to help your mother with cleaning up.”

Three small heads perk up at the voice of their sire, all of them dropping their toys and bouncing over to him. He kneels down and gives his two sons a strong hug, pecking them both on the heads with kisses.

“Daddy!” The last born of the three calls out to him. Optimus chuckles softly as he opens his arms for her, embracing her close to his chassis. Now Optimus is not the one to pick favourites with his sparklings and loves them all equally, but his only daughter was the first one to hug him whenever he came home. She was also the one who took the most interest in his stories of when he was the great leader of the Autobots, constantly begging for her sire to re-tell them as a bedtime story, with the more graphic details left out. It makes the inner archivist within Optimus swell with pride that at least one of his sparklings has taken a liking to the history of his home planet.

“Hello, my sweetspark.” Optimus nuzzles his faceplate to her nose, enjoying the little giggles that erupted from her. He picks her up and places her on his hip, a servo supporting her under her bottom, “Did you have fun today?”

“Yeah! Look what I do!” His toddler babbles as she points to a large tower made out of the small plastic blocks. It wasn’t very impressive by Cybertronian standards of what sparklings can do, but it doesn’t matter to Optimus, he will gush over anything that his kids build or draw in order to expand their creativity.

“Did you build that?” Optimus smiles at her, “How clever of you, honey.”

She nods eagerly, a big grin on her face, “Mommy helped!”

“Did she?” He looks towards his wife who was kneeled on the floor, stomach swollen with the life of another sparkling. She was sorting out the seemingly endless pile of toys that was thrown about on the floor. Optimus can’t help but admire his wifes devotion to their children, playing with them even when heavily pregnant. The incredible and important job of being a mother is something that Optimus has learned and respected during his time on Earth, especially after witnessing it firsthand.

“I did, now could you help me get up off the floor?” She chuckles, a hand rubbing her pregnant stomach.

Optimus carefully steps over the toys to walk over to her. He offers his servo and she graciously took it, pulling her up off the floor. She huffs a little bit and tries to catch her breath, bent knees trying to brace the weight of her unborn child.

“Thank you, love.” She sighs, lightly tracing the servo that still held onto her hand, “You would think I’d learn from my previous pregnancy to not get on the floor.”

Optimus laughs softly, readjusting his daughter on his hip, “It is probably not the wisest decision.”

She laughs, reminiscing the memory of her stuck on the floor while she was pregnant with the triplets, and he can feel himself falling in love with her all over again. She is absolutely glowing, and Optimus can’t help but bask in her natural beauty. Leaning forward, he presses a chaste kiss to her lips, smiling through it as he hears their sparklings protest as most children do when they see their parent’s smooch, “Yucky, Daddy!”

He pulls away from the kiss and brushes a servo across the tight skin of her stomach, feeling the little kicks of their soon-to-be newborn. Optimus doesn’t want to jinx anything yet, but he prays to Primus that it is another little girl.

She smiles and places her own hand on top of his, sharing the moment together. But Optimus does not notice that her smile faltered for a second.

“Optimus, you know that this can’t last forever.” His wife whispers quietly so that the sparkling he held can’t hear.

Optimus perks his helm up to look at her, confusion plastered on his face, his gentle caresses on her stomach halting for a moment, “What cannot last forever?”

She reaches a soft hand out to caress his faceplates, a small tear threatening to spill down her flushed cheeks. Despite being incredibly confused at his wife’s turn of behaviour, Optimus felt a need to comfort her and returns the gesture to wipe her own tears away.

“It’s not healthy for you… you need to wake up.”

Taking a step back, digits leave her face as he nearly trips on the carpet. The words that just left your lips made his spark sink to the floor. There was no way that Optimus was dreaming, he refused to believe, not when everything that has happened within the last few months felt so real and genuine. As quick as he felt his spark sink, the cosy home that surrounded his family began to crumble and disappear around him, falling into an endless cold void. The weight of his daughter on his hip was no longer there. The softness of his wife’s hand had disappeared. Optimus was left with nothing but the darkness of his empty mind. And at that point, Optimus felt his own optics lubricate and fall down into the void, the last echoes of his wife reaching his audial receptors.

“Optimus…”

“Optimus.”

“Optimus!”

Optics snap open, scanning the ceiling above him. In an instant, he sits up right on the berth below and vents heavily. He looks around carefully at his environment and realises that he is in his berthroom on the Autobot base, it feels lifeless.

“Hey, hey, take it easy.” A gentle yet firm voice reassures and pushes him back onto the berth, “I heard a distress signal from your internal instruments, is everything alright?”

Optimus recognises Ratchet, but the old bots words are drowned out by his processor running on overdrive. His wife, his sparklings, and his unborn little one are no-where to be found. Frantic optics flicker around every inch of the emptiness of his berthroom, hoping and wishing that they would be waiting just outside the room or hiding somewhere, playing that fun earth game called hide-and-seek that he enjoyed playing with his sparklings.

Ratchet notices the distant look in his friend’s optics and places a servo on his shoulder to try and ground him to the present, “Optimus, you’re fine, it seems as if you have just experienced a nightmare.”

His grip on the berth was hard. That was no nightmare. That was his life, a life that has now been taken away from him as a cruel punishment. All Optimus had ever wanted was right there in his grasp. He didn’t care about his friends, and he didn’t care about the Autobot cause anymore.

He just wants his family back.

“It was not.” Optimus whispers out, vocaliser stuttering. He knew Ratchet wouldn’t understand the monumental loss that he had just suffered, but Optimus could not deal with his old friend at this point in time. Just as Ratchet was about to question him, Optimus lets out a pained sob.

“Please…” He held his helm in his servos as lubricant began leaking from his optics once again, “Just leave me be.”

#transformers #tfp #tfp x reader #tfp optimus x reader #angst #sfw #x reader

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simplydannie · 28 days

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Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Under Rageous Velvet || Under Rageous Veneer

First, I want to thank everyone who pepped me up and made feel like a million when I was down❤️ I loved it and appreciated it so, SO much, you have no idea! I love you my pookies ❤️

The twins are on the run yet again from an Under Rageous gang boss: a high priced bounty on their head. All hope seems lost until Branch appears, asking them to trust him. Unfortunately, what he doesn’t know that a quick getaway leads them to a familiar face…A face that churns Branch’s stomach….a face he cannot trust.

Shank made sure the door was locked after the Mistress came in. They discussed their usual court of business….but only after spending an intimate moment together. Was it love? It was more lust than anything. Shank loved the beauty that those in Mount Rageous illuminated. Mistress desired the dark, looming, dangerous feel that the Under Rageous gave off. They were both power hungry, money hungry. They were both ambitious, dedicated, and horrible people….but that’s what made them so perfect for each other.

Mistress sat on top of him as he kissed her neck, “So any word on my little super stars?”

“Wouldn’t have I told you if there was any word?” He replied in between kisses. He could sense the aggravation in her voice. “Don’t tell me you came down here just to discuss business?”

“No. I guess not.” She sighed as he continued kissing her. “I guess your company is quite pleasurable.” Mistress closed her eyes as she enjoyed the sensation of his lips on her…things were getting hot, things were beginning to get serious...

KNOCK. KNOCK.

”Boss?”

Shank growled in disapproval at the sound of one of his henchmen, “Buzz off!” He demanded, “I’m a little busy here!”

”..S-sir…W-we have a sighting…” The fear in the henchman’s voice sounded through the closed door.

“Damn those teens.” Shank grunted through his teeth. Mistress snarled as she got off Shank ...Things were just getting good. He got up and went to open the door, shirt and jacket still off, anger in eyes.

“You better be damn sure, Syth.” He told his henchman. The male Rageon walked in holding a holographic tablet of some sort. Shank leaned in to have a closer look at the image… it was fuzzy, blurry, but he knew who that green swoop of hair belonged to.

“We got our boy. How long ago was this?”

“Our computers just picked it up, but cameras themselves may have picked it up about 30 minutes ago.” Syth replied.

Shank put on his shirt and jacket, he turned to Mistress, “Dead or alive?”

“Alive….for now. Once we obtain him, his sister won’t be far behind. And once Velvet is back in our grasp…do what you want to him.” She fixed up her dress and hair. She then walked up to Shank running a finger along his jawline. “And once that’s all over we’ll continue where we left off.”

He smirked. Looking towards Syth he yelled, “Well! Get to it… NOW!”

Hours. It had been hours. Velvet hadn’t heard any commotion on the other side of the door. Nothing. Sitting by the door, she hugged her knees and rocked back and forth. She really didn’t stop herself from wanting to hurt her brother this time. She wanted to do it, she REALLY wanted to do it.

“What’s wrong with me?” She murmured to herself. Her mind swirled, distorting with reality and what wasn’t….she couldn’t tell anymore. “Vennie?” She called out….silence.

Standing up she went to the door and opened it, “Vennie?” There wasn’t much to their home. The bedroom opened straight into the living room/ kitchen that made up their container home. “Vennie?”….He wasn’t there; she then knew he had ran off. Velvet sat down on the small worn down couch they had, burying her face within her hands.

Stupid! How on Earth am I supposed to protect him from myself, she thought. She realized now that she posed as a more horrid threat to her brother than all of Under Rageous. But what could she do? She couldn’t control it. It’s as if the anger took complete control of her body, but not just her body, her mind. Velvet could see her brother as the rages happened, but she couldn’t stop herself…sometimes the sound of his voice would calm her, would bring her back to this hell of a reality…but this last time it didn’t. She could hear him beg, but she continued, she wanted to continue until he felt the pain she had felt. But that was it wasn’t it? What if one day she never stopped? What if one day she killed him?….She’d never forgive herself if she did.

And now where was he? Running the streets of Under Rageous…while a bounty was on them, while most of Under Rageous knew of their crimes…and probably hated them. But was he any safer with her? Damn it Vennie, she pulled up her hoodie, tucking her bright green hair underneath. She had to go find him, she had to try and better herself…if not for her…for him…for all the crap she put him through. There had to be something, someone that could help with whatever the hell she was going through. She walked out the entrance of their container home and went to find her brother.

The two tiny Trolls stayed huddled inside Veneer's pockets. Tye scoffed on how calm Branch was, “Why are you trusting him? He’s probably going to take us to the Black Market. Sell us! Then we’re done for.” Tye whispered harshly.

“I- I don’t know!” Branch replied.

“I know you know him. How do you know him!”

“I’ll explain later.” Branch replied. He maneuvered himself to peek out Veneer’s pockets. “Yo! Where are we going?”

“Home….I think….I don’t know.” Veneer responded.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” The Troll arched his eyebrow, “I thought you said somewhere safe?”

“I-I did.”

”Then why the change Veneer?” Branch asked.

”Cause I don’t know how safe it will be.” Veneer walked past a couple Under Rageons who didn’t pay him any mind, but the more deeper he went, the more crowded it got, the more he was recognized. He could hear whispers, snarls, and vile laughter. He causually dove into some alley ways to continue his path home…at least he hoped he could get home. The two little Trolls popped out of his pocket and towards the bottom of his boots.

“Admit it green bean! You’re taking us to the Black Market!” Tye expressed. Branch looked at him, mouth gaped open.

”W-what. N-no! I swear!”

“Then why keep us!”

“I-I….” Veneer began to stutter.

An anger came across Tye’s face and voice, “Spill it Rageon!”

“I just wanted to the company okay!” Veneer leaned against the brick wall within the alley and shlumped down towards the ground. He brought his knees towards his chest, a distant look coming to his eyes. Branch approached him…

”Veneer…Where’s your sister?” He finally asked. The Rageon didn’t look the Troll in the eye; he turned his face and gazed towards the ground instead. “Those bruises on your face….did, did she do it?”

“……She didn’t mean too….” The Rageon finally responded.

”What do you mean? What sister doesn’t mean to beat up her own brother?” Branch pressed on. Veneer fiddled with the hem of his sleeves, his feet twitching as he searched for the answer.

“Something is wrong with her…Something I noticed back at the Rage Dome show. She was changing, she was….going crazy. That’s why I had to stop it. That’s why I had to tell everybody about what we did. I thought I was helping her, but now, I’m not so sure I did….”

Branch searched for the right words, “Did it have anything to do with my brother? The essence you were absorbing?”

Tye’s ears twitched, “Brother?….The Troll they kidnapped….They tortured…That was your brother? Why are you still trusting him!”

Branch didn’t know. Something in him told him that he couln’dt leave Veneer…especially not at the hands of death. He looked at the kid…there was something about him…something sad….yet, something familiar.

“Did you know Floyd before everything happened?”

Veneer nodded, “Yes.”

“How?”

“…We found him…”

“Go on.”

Veneer sighed, “He had fallen into one of my traps I set out. The group me and Velvet were part of…our job was to capture Trolls and send them off to the Black Market…”

”See!” Tye pointed out.

”Shh! Go on.” Branch said.

”…Floyd was the first Troll I ever caught. But when I looked at him….he looked….sad…he was grey, colorless.” Branches heart sank as Veneer continued, “I- I couldn’t give him to the Black Market…He needed help. So I convinced Velvet to keep him, hide him away. The group thought I had released him. They gave me a good beating and through me and Velvet back on the streets….But, it was honestly the best thing that happened to us. We became like a small family…we had a family again. Floyd got his colors back….we were happy…until we screwed it up and betrayed him…almost killing him.” Veneer hugged his knees and buried his face away as the tears started pouring out.

Branch had not known about this. Grant it, Floyd would always try to write to the twins during their time in prison, but he would always intercept those letters.

“Let it go Floyd! They tormented you!” Branch would tell him.

“Branch..please just let me explain..”

“Enough Floyd! I have my brother back. I don’t want to lose him again to those tall freaks!…Please..”

And Floyd never brought it up again. Looking at Veneer’s distraught actions, he knew now that they were once a family, even if it was for a short while. Though he admired it, he couldn’t help but feel a ping of jealousy…because that’s what Branch had wanted with Floyd…Veneer’s shoulders shuddered as he continued to cry. The kid felt alone…no Floyd, no sister, no parents it seemed like…perhaps Branch was the closest thing he would have to Floyd, which is why Veneer didn’t want to part with him…at least not yet.

Tye looked between Branch and the Rageon. He could see the sympathy coming across Branch's face. No…that was unacceptable, Rageons were not to be trusted. Whatever this was, the Rageon had Branch under his spell. He went over to the Troll and tugged his sleeve.

“Let’s go before more come. Then we’re really in trouble.” He said.

Branch didn’t budge. He stayed there staring at Veneer. Was this the real Veneer? The kid Floyd had come to know and love? And not the peacock, pretty boy Branch came to hate in Mount Rageous.

”You can go. I’m sorry….I’m sorry for everything…” Veneer mumbled through his tears; he dared not look up at the Troll. He was afraid he would see Floyd in him…then he really wouldn’t want to let him go. Branch looked at Tye, then at Veneer. He let out a sigh and walked towards Tye.

“…Thank you for trying to help me…but I’m sorry….I-I can’t leave him.” Branch admitted.

Tye gaped, “What? You’re really going to take his side?” Veneer peeked, tears still running down his face, eyes red.

“Look. I’m looking for a way out of here. I want to get out and go home. You can come with me…” He looked between Tye and Veneer. “You both can.”

Veneer sniffled, a small smile coming across his face, “Really?” He and Tye responded in unison.

“Yes! What do you say?”

“I-I have family here. I just can’t leave them….” Tye said.

“Then let’s get them! And they can come too. Any Troll, all Trolls we can find. Plus a Rageon….”

“Or two?” Veneer asked. Branch paused, confused at his statement. “I can’t leave Velvet. She…She still needs me…I need her too.” Branch was a little taken back by his request. Veneer had always seemed like the more reasonable one between the two…Velvet on the other hand was different. And now that he had said that something was wrong with her, that she could loose control any moment? Veneer sensed the hesitation in Branch's actions and words.

“If she doesn’t go, then I’ll stay…but I can help you guys escape….If you want of course…”

Branch bit his tongue…He was hoping Veneer wouldn’t have said that…He was hoping he could at least save one twin…but if his sister wasn’t saved, then he’d suffer with her. Should he bring both? Should he risk the safety of the other Trolls to an unstable Rageon? Branch didn’t know what to do or say….instead, his reply was simple…

“…..Okay…” Was all he said.

The conversation was cut short as they heard footsteps echo in the alleyway.

“Hurry!” Veneer opened his pockets for the Trolls to go in. Instead, Tye wrapped his hand around Branch's wrist, wrapped his hair on a far off post, and slingshotted away. Veneer watched as they disappeared.

“Wait!” Branch yelled as Tye tightened his grip.

“Branch?” Veneer called out...the echo of the footsteps grew nearer. He didn’t hesitate, Veneer pulled his red hoodie over his purple beanie and began to walk off. As he neared the exit of the alley, he was blocked by a tall Under Rageon. Veneer attempted a casual avoidance and turned around. More Rageons blocked his path. They all wore dark trench coats over dark baggy clothes. The sides of their heads shaved, only leaving one side of their head full of their stringy hair. They were all pale, with spiral eyes and sharpened teeth, a tattoo running along the side of their head down their neck…a branding to the gang they belonged to ...Shanks.

“Hey there pretty boy.” Shank appeared from the group of Rageons that surrounded him. “Finally, we meet face to face. You and your sister have been putting me through a lot of trouble…Giving me a lot of damn headaches.” He lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke into the air. The sight of him sent shivers down Veneer’s spine…He was menacing, yet walked with power…it was frightening.

“I-I don’t know who you are. W-what did we do to you?” Veneer asked.

“For one, you killed one of my boys back when you guys first arrived down here a couple weeks ago.” Shank’s spiral eyes met Veneer’s giant blue ones…he was terrified…truly terrified.

“I-I…W-we….that was an accident. We….we were trying to defend ourselves.”

Shank held up a finger to silence Veneer, “I don’t give a damn about explanations. Now, I’ll let that slide if you decide to come with us…peacefully of course…We also promise no harm will come to your sister.”

“Velvet?” Veneer’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach…”Y-you have Velvet?”

“You want to see her?…Alive? Then come along with us. There’s an old friend who wants to have a word with you both.” Shank gestured the way through, waiting for Veneer to follow.

“W-who?” He asked.

“Too many questions will definitely get your sister killed….Well.” Shank blew more smoke into the air as he waited for Veneer’s decision ...The young Rageon nodded and began to follow Shank and his men….

….Suddenly a cloud of mist surrounded them out of nowhere, their vision blurred; they gagged as they inhaled the smoke that surrounded them.

”WHAT THE HELL!” Shank yelled.

Veneer was also caught in the smoke, coughing and wheezing for air. He felt hand wrap around his wrist and begin pulling him away. He didn’t know where he was going, he just felt his feet move, his body being pulled. His vision cleared as he was led out of the smoke. The hand that grasped him, the person who was leading him away…

“Velvet!” Veneer exclaimed with a smile, “You’re safe!”

”Of course idiot! Why wouldn’t I be?”

”They said they had you?”

”You REALLY need to stop trusting strangers. You’re not five anymore.” She cried as they began to run.

“How did you do that back there?”

”I found those old smoke bombs you made…I guess eventually they did come in handy…go figure.” She kept pulling Veneer, running faster.

“Where are we going?”

“Home! Where do you think?”

When the smoke cleared, Shank glanced around…the kid was gone, “Damn it! DAMN IT! GO FIND THAT SON OF A BITCH NOW!” He screamed. His men scrambled around before finally heading separate ways out of the alley. “I’m going to kill him. When I have my way with him…I’m going to kill him.”

“Wait…we passed this way already?” Veneer declared as they came to a halt.

“How do you know?”

“That graffiti. We passed by it twice.” He pointed it out.

“We’ve been going in circles!” Velvet exclaimed. “Hell! I don’t know this place of Under Rageous…This way!” She pulled her brother along a narrow part of the alley, “I’m sure we haven’t been this way before.” They ran…left or right? Velvet went right….dead end. She turned back around pushing her brother heading the other direction. This leads to another opening…straight ahead or left? She continued straight….another dead end.

“Shit, shit, shit.” She exclaimed.

”Vels!”

“Venner! Please! We have no way out and you’re worried about me cussing!” She attempted to head back..

”Keep searching! They can’t be far.” Echoes of voices were heard from within the alley. They were out there, they were looking for them…they were cornered, they were trapped.

“What do we do, Vels?” He asked. She looked around where they stood. There was really nothing they could use as a weapon; she looked up at the walls…there was nothing for them to climb up either.

“We fight Ven.”…

PING!

Out of a vent from the ground, a Troll popped out…

”Branch!” Veneer exclaimed. Velvet glanced between her brother and the Troll. Tye appeared next to Branch, an unhappy look in his eyes. The Trolls opened the vent..it was much wider than it appeared on the outside.

“Jump in! Tye says he knows a hideout.” Branch said.

”They’re not going to be happy…” The other Troll mumbled.

“What! Oh hell no! Let’s go back Ven.” She pulled her brother's arm.

“Oh come on Velvet!” Branch exclaimed.

“No! I am not trusting a Troll again!”

”Fine! You go then, but I am not going to let your brother suffer for your stupid mistakes. Ven come on!” Branch exclaimed. Veneer bit his lip. He turned and grabbed his sister's hand.

”Vels, please let’s go!” He begged.

”No!”

“Please!” He casted his bright big blue eyes straight into hers. She tried to avoid his glance, but failed…Funny, anyone who knew them deeply would see that Veneer’s eyes were a tint lighter than hers and that she stood a little bit taller than he did. These were the small things she noticed, but the small things she came to appreciate about her brother. Velvet closed her eyes and sighed.

“Fine.”

They both turned towards the vent the Trolls held open for them. Veneer stretched out his hand for his sister to hold. She grunted, but took his hand…Together they jumped in. Behind them, Tye and Branch closed the vent…they disappeared completely, falling into the depths below the under-city.

The twins screamed as they fell into the dark abyss…it was like a long tunnel, no light shining through.

“Branch! Was this a good idea!” Veneer screamed.

“I’m starting to question that now!”

THUD!

Veneer fell first, hitting the cement hard. He grunted and attempted to stand up before Velvet came falling on top of him…Her fall much lighter and softer.

“Oh! Thanks Vennie!” She smiled.

”Uuugggghhhh.” He groaned. Branch came tumbling down after, landing with a soft thud on Velvet’s stomach.

She grimaced, “Get your stinky butt off me Troll!”

“Calm down princess. Be thankful I came back at all.” Branch scowled.

”Guys please stop.” Veneer moaned. Velvet scooted off of him, causing Branch to roll off her lap and straight towards the ground. Glancing around he noticed Tye was nowhere to be seen.

”Tye? Tye!” Branch looked up from the hole they came down from. Oh no…Did he get stuck up top? “I’m going back guys!”

SWOOSH!

A net made of barbed wire was thrown over the twins, causing Branch to get stuck in the middle. The twins lay flat on their stomach as the wire tightened above them. Whatever movement they made caused the wire to cut in.

“What the hell!” Velvet yelled out.

From the corner of their, Tye appeared embracing himself.

“Tye! Can you help us please?” Veneer begged.

The small Troll shook his head, “I told you they wouldn’t be happy.”

…They heard small footsteps and the chatter of small voices…All around them, small little gray Trolls began to appear…an anger in their eyes as they saw the two trapped Rageons. Branch noticed a variety of Trolls: Pop, Funk, Rock, Country, Classical…and everything in between…their colors gone and lost.

“Oh my gosh…” Branch murmured. He looked up at Tye, “Tell them we’re friends! Please.” He squirmed in between Velvet and Veneer; the twins attempted not to put their weight on the small Troll between them, but that was hard, as the wire began cutting into their skin.

“We will be the judge of that won't we now, mate.” Branch heard a familiar voice…a familiar accent…a sound he thought would be long gone by now. He looked up to see a familiar Troll standing amongst everyone else ...He was easy to distinguish as this Troll still had his colors…The sight of him sent a shiver down Branch's spine, a vile taste coming to his mouth.

“E’llo there mate. Long time no see.” The Troll greeted.

Branch spat to the ground in disgust, “….Creek.”

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thatawkwardmoth · 5 months

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Tasty little Scemma (Scott x Emma) idea. So, in the universe where everything is perfect, Emma is married to Scott and is a child psychologist (Canon, I'll add citations later). So that's something established prior to this idea. So...au? Modern day, no powers, slice of life shit.

Scott just lost Jean or maybe just divorced her, I don't know. But anyway, he has Nathan and Rachel to care for and it's obvious that they're not handling it well. They're grieving, lashing out, lost. They're young too, Rachel's like 7, Nathan's barely 5, they miss the constant presence of their mom.

So Scott finds a therapist, does for his kids what he should've done himself or what someone should've done for him. It's Emma, high praised child psychologist, apparently very well with kids and helping them through their issues.

And Scott, at first, isn't interested at all in finding love again. He's guarded and almost cold to Emma when they first meet. But he melts around Rachel and Nathan, is just so soft to his two little ones.

Emma finds him attractive immediately but focuses on her patients, not her feelings. She makes good progress on the kids, getting them to open up and giving them coping mechanisms, bringing Scott's attention to some things he could do to help them. And after almost a few years, she barely sees the kids in her office but her and Scott have been in contact a lot, she asks him out on a date.

It's perfect, a little awkward, a little stilted, but she enjoys it. She even is honest with him about why she chose to be a psychologist and not a teacher like she dreamed. She has five little girls at home, her quintuplets, that she had almost 4 years ago. She and their dad didn't have a good relationship and she doesn't want Scott to think he has to be their dad. But she's honest about her life, about being a former stripper, deciding to leave her family's wealth behind. She's really in love with this guy.

Scott is scared. He's not been in love since Jean. And he's worried about his kids, about what they might think or the setbacks it might cause to see him moving on. But he listens to his friends and accepts the date. He laughs for the first time in a while, not something related to his kids. He jokes and quips. He's a gentleman. He doesn't judge but he doesn't open up all the way yet. He tells her about losing his parents, about his brother getting adopted and not him, about finding out his dad was alive and had another son. About loving Jean with everything. He tells her about being scared to move on. And she understands.

The kids are fine with it. The quintuplets are a bit miffed at the playdate they have to introduce the kids. They prefer each other, not new playmates. But after a while, Esme and Sophie are playing with Nathan. Celeste and Irma are clinging to Scott, laughing as he lifts them both with one arm. Phoebe is sitting beside Rachel, just watching her color and maybe helping once and a while.

It's not perfect. It's not a seamless transition. They fight. The kids fight. They feel too much change, too many emotions. The Cuckoos want to be alone with each other again, not wanting to split their mother's time. Rachel doesn't want a new mom. Nathan doesn't want more sisters.

But eventually it mellows out. And it's almost paradise. It's Emma's perfect world. Successful and helping kids. Married in a beautiful gown to a man who doesn't focus on her body, on her almost exposed cleavage, but instead on her feet in her heels, offering to take them off because they might be hurting her feet.

And, like lunatics, they have another kid. Well into the future. The kids are all almost grown, in high school. They have Megan. And that's enough for them. Some joke they might have twins or maybe more. But Emma is happy. She's content with this life. Watching her girls bond with Megan, watching Rachel encourage her to walk, watching Nathan rant about his day to a toddler just wanting to color.

It's her perfect reality.

#scemma #scott summers #summers family #rachel grey #rachel summers #nathan summers #cable #stepford cuckoos #emma frost #x men #x men comics #megan summers

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starlightingsss · 8 months

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the story of us (laxus x reader)

angst no comfort oneshot for laxus dreyar bcs i 🫶 hurting my own feelings!!

wait but like to elaborate on the story! reader and laxus traveled tgth while he was exiled from the guild then they fell in love and did all the in love things u do!

as he rang the doorbell of the house - her house, he couldn't help but wonder what she had done with herself and her life since.

she definitely would look different - it had been 7 years, maybe she would act different? the house was pretty big, she was definitely well off. but other than that, he wasn't sure. he saw the tulips and rosebushes planted all around - her favorites, and he couldn't help but smile to himself.

he felt like a silly teenager in love looking to get his dare for a school dance or something, maybe he should have brought her flowers.

as the door opened, he was brought out of his thoughts.

and there she was, in the doorframe, 7 years older and just as perfect as she was the day he left for tenrou.

she froze. he was dead, he had to be dead. but he wasnt, he was standing in her doorway - exactly as he was when he took off.

he opened his mouth to speak but she didn't gear any sound, her heartbeat sped up.

her wide eyes brimmed with tears at the sight of the man, he was there. he was alive, he was well - but he was late. too late. 4 years too late.

it was horrible when she thought she lost him, but it was worse now that he was back. it seemed as if her world came crashing down at that moment, the choice she knew she would have to make daunting and horrifying.

she loved him, so deeply. but she had missed him for longer than she had loved him, she had comforted herself with fantasy scenarios regarding him more often than he had comforted her, she had dreamed about him longer than she had lived in reality - running from what she thought was the truth, that a giant oversized lizard wiped out the love of her life and everyone else he cared about.

she had moved on, the original pain that plagued her heart had calmed to an ache in the back of her mind, but now it was back.

the inevitable choice, her husband or the man she told herself she would love for eternity? the man she vowed herself to under the watchful eyes of god or the man she had spent nights stargazing with, while daring to dream about their futures. the man who had picked her up and fixed her after she was shattered into a million pieces or the man who held her so tightly while her whole world flipped upside down and she was forced into his arms? fate seemed to be playing a cruel game, never letting her fully rid herself of him, bringing them back together at this time.

she was snapped out of her thoughtd at laxus's warm hand against her cheek, concern etched onto his face.

"oi, y/n?" he mumbled, caring - like he always was with her.

her tears fell over his hand as she wrapped hers around his wrist, removing it from her face.

then he saw it. her wedding band. snugly fit around her pretty fingers, as her tears started to make sense.

the realization that he shouldn't have come dawned onto him, his unwanted prescence doing nothing but bringing back pain filled memories for her.

it felt like a stab to his heart, he didn't blame her. he wasn't even really mad, nothing seemed to compare to the sadness that blurred his vision and filled his eyes with tears. as they both cried, yearning for the youthful freedom they had before this mess. before he was gone, before she was married, before it all when they were just 2 kids in love. before, when they had the audacity to dream, to dream of a fairy tale life, a perfect life with one other.

laxus plastered a smile onto his face, before asking "how have you been, n/n?"

his words rung through her ears, repeating a million times, as she couldn't think of an answer. she couldn't help it as she sobbed, leaning backwards into the doorframe, away from him.

his hand raised again, wiping her tears as they fell.

when she finally seemed to get a hold of herself, they had a conversation.

it wasn't long, she wasn't sobbing but her tears were still flowing. the kind of conversation between ex lovers, the "could'ves", reminiscent of their past, sadness in their tones. their conversation fizzled out, as their time ran out.

"my husband.. gets home in 15 minutes." she told him, hesitant. the whole inreraction felt like a fever dream, the worst.

"it was good to talk," laxus said, curtly as he plastered another smile onto his face - the kind that was so desperately. "goodbye, n/n."

"you know i hate goodbyes.." she mumbled, before leaning in for a hug.

"because 'goodbyes' are forever, like you'll never see them again." laxus whispered into her ear, as they hugged. in that moment, it was perfect, their bodies molded to each other, a perfect that she didn't want to lose. he pulled away, smiling at her one last time - geniunely this time, not a smirk, not one of those fake smiles, but one founded by his love for her, one for the love they lost. and she returned it, an "i'll love you until the stars stop shining, and the earth stops spinning," kind of smile, so genuine and so pure.

but she knew, it didn't matter. as he made his way down her front lawn, she knew the moment he left her driveway it was over. the greatest love she could possibly experience would be gone, the love of her life a stranger once again.

as he was about to leave, he turned, smiling at her again. she returned it, standing in the doorway of a house they used to dream of owning together, ready to go back to serving her husband the moment laxus left, their "childlish" love dead and gone for eternity.

how deeply she wanted to run, to sprint across her lawn into his arms, to scream to the world that she loved him and that she was his - forever, and endlessly. how she wanted to fix it, to hold him until she fell asleep and to laugh with him until her sides ahced, the kind of love you find once in a lifetime, that she was about to let go. no matter how deeply she wanted to chase him, to run into his arms, she couldn't. because they weren't just kids anymore. they were adults with lives, she was married.

#laxus dreyar angst #laxus dreyar oneshot #laxus fluff #laxus angst #laxus dreyar x reader #laxus #ft laxus #laxus x reader #fairy tail laxus #laxus dreyar #angst #angst no comfort #angst no happy ending

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ladyduellist · 27 days

Text

Epistles of Saints & Sinners

Chapter Summary:

Tav has a dream and makes a decision about Astarion.

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Story Summary:

When Astarion meets the humble bard, Tav, he soon finds out he's the only one between them that knows they are bound as soulmates through their marks. Deciding it's more trouble than its worth, he refuses to tell her along the course of their journey across Faerûn.

But, unbeknownst to him and their companions, Tav is harboring a gruesome secret that she only thought was nothing more than a traumatized period in her life.

As they both come to face to face with their pasts and presents, will they choose to move forward or let it consume them?

Healing isn’t linear—after all.

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Chapter 16: Dream

Ao3

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Main Page & Chapter List

Word count: 5.8k

Pairing: Astarion x female bard Tav

CW: Sexual Language, Self-harm, Blood, Gaslighting, Manipulation, PTSD , Act 1 Spoilers

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What is the cost of turning dreams into reality? The payment of man: his duality. Morrowland awaits for those who can pay, Death masks made for any in his way.

— Raphael, diabolical discussions at the House of Hope

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The first detail Tav noticed about the rich northwestern Sea Ward of Waterdeep was the malodorous stench.

A reeking unpleasant mixture of old and new greed asserted through questionable bargains. The pungency in fear and scandal-mongering behind palatian villa walls. Secrets hidden well beneath caked layers of powdered cheeks and painted façades of cordiality from each patriar’s cut stoned smile.

Gathered in droves did the wayfarers come, to celebrate Winter Shield as the largest holiday of the year. A specified duration for one day, underlining the spectred accounts from the past year. Follies and good cheer, recognized as an enthronement for the special occasion.

Cassalanter Villa towered self-righteously over Tav as she eyed its structure, hearing the roaring jollied voices from the party that was in full swing indoors. And there, her beloved Algos presumably waited, working the visitors strategically for dividends should he grant the evil desires of their hearts. A strange residence he coaxed her into attending to mingle with the orgies of blue bloods at the behest of his aspirations.

It wasn’t that she had never dealt with patriars—especially back in the comforts of her home in Highmoon—but moreso, that she loathed unnecessarily gleaning attention out of highbrow society. She cared not if her singing mouth or the whorl of her rapier impressed upon their besmirched mortalities.

As she approached, dolled up in an empire waist gown crafted from azure ombré velvet and hand painted whitecaps resembling the salt waters of the Sword Coast, she began collecting her nerve to enter the villa, reciting Algos’s instructions in her mind. Each rehearsed pleasantry urged upon her to perform at the upcoming soirée, formed together as they would leave her murmuring lips in an alphabetical soliloquy.

Practice makes perfect.

Good thing I’ve perfected the art of a side glance to deal with these pompous dickheads, she bemoaned in her thoughts, reluctantly walking up to the closed doors.

Tav’s hand hovered above the door handle, a million excuses sprinting through her gray matter as to why she shouldn’t walk across that threshold into the lion’s den.

She formed a closed fist, letting it fall unceremoniously away.

“What am I do—oh…you’re here,” the elven woman quietly proclaimed.

Warmth dispersed between her collarbone and upper breast tissue as her soulmate mark gently made its presence known. Breathing. Alive. Pulling at the invisible bond betwixt them, causing her clattering heart to slow its pace.

She looked down at her chest, imagining the dark brownish shooting star underneath her gown stirring to life. Her mate’s long, steady, drawn out breaths tickled across the astral shape, expanding and contracting. Oh, how many nightfalls had this rare blessing kindling her pale skin endowed her with reassurance?

Tav imagined her soulmate in different scenarios whilst their shared token heated her. Had they been laughing at an embellished joke? Mayhaps demonstrating the proper launch techniques of bows? Or, could it be they were mapping the skies above for an exciting adventure?

However, what she knew for sure was that her mate had acknowledged her hesitancy from whatever location they occupied. Their connection abundant the most during the trials they each faced, knowing the precise moment to lend one another strength to will their resolve to conquer such trepidations.

Still, there loomed something eerie and tenebrous beneath the surfaced flushing emitting from the mark. Flecks of dark scattered emotions that would quickly dissipate into the channels of her nerve endings.

During those periods, she would often sing to her soulmate as she began to do now. Dulcet lullabies from ancient elven lore, hummed prettily off the glint of her lips while she lightly grazed the top heap of her bosom. Tav prayed that the solace from her songs filled her mate’s body, healing their troubled spirit through their fated link as she always did.

And just as suddenly as the dreamlike sensations from her soulmate appeared, they were gone.

With newfound will, it didn’t take long afterwards for her to prepare herself to enter the indoor gathering.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Spine straight.

Doors open.

Welcome to a new hell.

Barges of colors flashed behind Tav’s eyes when she slipped into the home, like fields made from dying stars erupting to give birth to interstellar clouds. A contrast to the falling snow outdoors, entoiling the city of splendors in quilts of white.

Gold and silver tinsel hung from every lit candle wall sconce. Balsam garlands—decorated with fir cones, orange slices, and tinkering brass bells—drooped in a zigzag pattern high above the visitors’ heads in the grand foyer only feet away from the entrance. Noises rang off champagne flutes, filling the air with their own caroling orchestra.

To her left, an ornately carved pulpit stood leering over guests filing in from the cold to administer judgment before they joined the festivities. A toffee-faced dwarven woman, elderly and worn, stood raised behind its face. Large baskets filled with wreaths stacked perfectly on either side of her: novelties of cultural celebration for new beginnings.

“Happy Winter Shield and welcome to Cassalanter Villa, my lady,” the noble dwarf politely announced. “I am Madam Robine Cassalanter and today: our home is your home. Please warm your bones and feast for as long as your belly will allow or until dawn breaks and I put everyone back onto the streets!”

Tav forced a smile, noting the slightly serious tone of her last sentence, evident of her classist ethics. “Your hospitality is without rival, Madam Cassalanter.”

Robine removed a wreath from one of the baskets, steadfastly holding it between her plump sausage-like fingers. “Care for one? The servants have painstakingly outdid themselves this year with them I believe! Handmade over a thousand each in a tenday’s time.”

The dueling swordswoman nodded quietly, moving closer to the pulpit. Patiently waiting as the woman fixed a wreath created from boxwood leaves and winter berries onto her head, Tav observed the smoothness of her hands. Clearly lacking the same scars and calluses she had acquired, she doubted the dwarf had worked a single day in her life that didn’t involve hosting grand parties and speaking gossip over towers of scones.

“Lovely,” she exclaimed, admiring her minimal labor. “Now, is there anything else I can help you with?” The dwarf peeked down at the cuffs of her tacky white and emerald suit, pretending to be unsettled by an invisible stain that just seemed to require all of her attention.

She blinked away the melting snowflakes occupied on her lashes, resisting the urge to subtly insult the woman’s sudden rudeness. “Saer Algos. Do you know of him? He should have arrived an hour or so ago.”

Madam Robine stopped fidgeting with her sleeves, widening her eyes to stare at the woman regarding her. Head tilted curiously, she leaned over the pulpit shifting her vision to study the elf more closely.

Odd. Strangely so.

Tav slightly furrowed her brow, vexed further by the woman’s demeanor. Minutes ticked away before she decided that the suddenly mute dwarf was a lost cause and she would be better off searching for him on her own. Turning away, she proceeded to walk towards the upbeat gathering.

“Saer Algos? Why, yes, he should be inside,” Robine abruptly interrupted, halting Tav. “Now that I think about it, he did mention he was expecting his fiancée to show up sometime after him. Would I be correct that he also said you are a dazzling vocalist and would graciously sing for us this fair eve?”

How very like Algos to use her talents to captivate and indoctrinate the masses for his cause.

Her long dress spun around with her like dancing waves as she looked back at the woman that now had a cheshire grin spanning the entirety of her lower face, further indenting the wrinkles around her eyes.

She swallowed down her objection into the pit of her stomach. “If it should please you and your guests, then I would be honored.”

Tav reminded herself this uncomfortability was for Algos. “For the future” he often reminded her. Should he rise to meet his goals, protection across Everska, The Dales, Cormyr, and perhaps one day The Sword Coast, would be guaranteed. The people would want for nothing, only to enter a unified golden age that had yet to be seen.

His vision: enticing as forbidden pomegranates ripened upon a tree. Seeds of an ideal utopian nation, waiting for their arils to burst open, intoxicating the land. How could anyone refuse? Algos designated himself as the man to conduct the events that would jumpstart everything. A man possessed with masterminded strategies to outwit opponents into carving his position amongst those on lofty perches.

Algos would not fail; he would immolate any that deemed him to do so.The Madam nodded, snapping her fingers at a nearby servant. “May I have your mantle then, Miss…?”

“Tavelle Etriel’kerymaera. My name is Tavelle Etriel’kerymaera,” she answered affably, untying her fur mantle to hand over to the maid obediently holding her arms out like a coat hanger.

“Tavelle Etriel’kerymaera,” Robine slowly enunciated, continuing her strange all-knowing smile. “Enjoy your evening, dearest.”

Bowing her head courteously, she half pivoted to depart—“One more thing Lady Swordsong,” Robine called out, crinkling her mischievous eyes. “My nephew Victoro Cassalanter and his wife Ammalia are here tonight as well. I believe they would find you quite beguiling! And I am sure given your contributions, this won’t be the last we see of each other.”

Contributions? What in the hells was she referring to? Tav entertained.

The elf visibly narrowed her sight, no longer able to hold back her suspicions about the dwarf’s behavior. “Forgive me for my intrusive assumption Madam Cassalanter, but why does it seem as if you know far more about me than you’re revealing?”

She shrugged her shoulders, fixating her interests on the next wreaths to prepare for the guests that had just entered from the blistering cold. “Fly along now Sword of Deepingdale,” the aged dwarf ordered. “You shouldn’t keep your handsome beau waiting any longer.”

Tav bit down on her lower vermillion, contemplating a walk back towards the pulpit to fetch the crone by her hideous jacket to demand answers from her smug face. However, Robine was right: Algos expected her to be by his side tonight and that included demonstrating her best temperament. Despite her reluctance in attending the party, she knew these negative thoughts were temporary and in contrast to the importance of their presence there.

From the entryway to the grand foyer, Tav glanced out amongst a hive of rabid nobles. Each one buzzed about, collecting useful rumors like pollen, transferring it back to the rest of the broods that kept encircling the hall. They sucked and they sucked and they sucked, addicted to every bit of nectary gossip they could store inside the cells of their brains until they could use them for their benefit.

But then, she found her soon-to-be husband, dwelling near an ivory pillar tucked away in a quiet corner. Hair slicked back and robust body clad in a long navy velvet coat trimmed in charcoal-dyed fox furs, Algos’s long shadow peeped out across the marble floor. He was dashing as ever—facial features more intense than usual from a clean shave.

Though, what she did not anticipate was the unrecognizable companion flouncing around him.A human woman clung onto his arm. Pinned glossy black hair. Dressed in gold silks. A pair of sirenic sea green eyes. Breasts pushed alluringly into his bicep. Beautiful and refined by most standards.

The elf watched as Algos’s heavy tongue—presumptively dripping with honeyed charms—whispered into the lady’s ear, causing her to giggle. She craned her neck to peck the corner of his full lips, a row of pearly whites gleaming in the dim light. Then, as the she-wolf was about to depart into the lively crowd, her peachy hand casually slid downwards until her palm met his outlined cock in his trousers.

Wait.

That can’t be right.

It happened so quickly it could have been easily mistaken for a trick of the eye.

“Ah, there she is: my beloved birdie!” Algos waved at her with a half filled glass of champagne, intruding upon her fretful thoughts.

Robotically, her ears perked up, obeying the seductive and cajoling drag from his wispy gruff inflection. The breadth of a faux smile chained itself to her lips.

“Good eve to you my love,” she replied, curtsying as he met her near the doorway.

Should she question him about what she saw? Surely, she was mistaken.

His sight raked over her body, doubtlessly searching for any imperfections that could cause that infamous astringent glimmer in those hickory coal eyes. “You look astonishing,” Algos complimented, appearing pleased.

“Well, I suppose I should, given you were the one that picked out this dress,” Tav tried to quip, briefly ignoring her concerns.

His left arm slotted itself around her waist, pulling her into him. “It has been vastly boorish here without you.”

Tav’s hands flatly landed against the intricately stitched rows of velvet along the upper torso of his coat, as if to guard him from her heart. “Has it? It seemed like you were having quite a bit of fun with that black-haired woman just a few minutes ago.”

Algos threw his head back in laughter, his Adam’s apple sporting a few missed coarser hairs from his shave. “You mean Ammalia Cassalanter and the kiss she gave me? Oh my dove, she was simply thanking me for a little problem solving regarding a mercantile disagreement I did for her husband Victoro. It saved them from loosening some of their funds to placate the persons involved.”

“It’s not the gratitude from her peck that bothered me, but the squeezing of your cock before she sauntered off,” Tav frankly reported.

Without another word, Algos seized her hand and led her into a small sitting room adjacent to the foyer entrance, closing the doors behind him.

Instead of releasing her, he instantly looped her arms around his neck. His free hand tilted her chin up towards him, peering down into her face. “I’m unsure as to what you think you saw, but that didn’t happen. Aside from that meaningless kiss, she didn’t touch me.”

Tav stared up at him silently, the various shades of pink on his cheeks a symptom from imbibing. He always knew what to say to her, always in a way that his manipulations convinced her breaking heart to continue bleeding for him.

“The only woman I want is you,” he cooed, pushing into her plush mouth with his broad tongue, snuffing out her angst immediately.

Upon his slithering tongue slipping betwixt her lips, a delicate sweet tang was tasted, covered under the fruity notes from the champagne. A taste she could equate to the lustful moistures of labia folds mixed with intoxicating jasmine at the end of each breath he aired out.

Tav fought back the vile images of Algos’s head between Ammalia’s thighs, sucking her clit into orgasmic bliss. She was a married woman, after all, with a husband whose watchful gaze vigilantly scanned the perimeter of the grand foyer. How could the two of them manage to get away with their affair within the past hour?

Yet, it occurred to her that even though she could taste the lies on his tongue, he would likely show no remorse. She could certainly probe him enough to admit his adultery to her, but his confession would turn to a plausible excuse that feasting upon wealthy cunt would somehow give him further access into this family’s maggoty circle he aimed to control. The pain of his betrayal would foreseeably become a fleeting hurt to help him usher in “the future.”

This man—this horrible man Tav loved—knew by her altruism that she would always put others before herself because she felt everyone else’s lives were more important than her own.

And he could get away with it all.

Algos leaned back, lips plump and deeply hued in rouge. “Do you believe me?”

No.

“Yes,” she fibbed, swallowing her torment because that’s what he would want to hear.

“Good girl,” he praised, patting the side of her neck. “Now that your worries are eased, did the matriarch of the family treat you decently when you arrived?”

“Madam Robine Cassalanter? She was genial as any patriar pretends to be,” she slightly frowned. “But, something was off about the way she regarded me. What did you tell her?”

The back of his thick index finger gently stroked her cheek. “I should have known my perceptive little bird would pick up on that. To answer: I may have slipped a very rare map into her possession that once belonged to one of the many heroes from ‘The Iron Crisis.’ The Cassalanter’s were quite thrilled that the daughter of that self same hero—you—and a Sword of Deepingdale herself, would offer such a gratuitous gift.”

Her jaw felt like it entirely unlatched as her mouth flew open in disbelief.

By that admission alone, Tav figured out the artifice he meant to play before he even explained himself. She was seething, her chest tightening with heat. “You not only stole a part of my inheritance, but you also laundered it away to one of the most notorious families in Waterdeep to gain an alliance?!”

“Now, now, the Cassalanters have graciously received us. There is absolutely nothing to be upset about,” Algos chastised with a click of his tongue. “Moving people along the game board is all part of the political blueprint. You must have favor with those in disreputable positions to guarantee their compliance for your goals, else chaos ensues.”

“Besides, you should be honored that your mother is the bladesinger, Evenlit Etriel’kerymaera! You’re practically royalty, my dear,” he unerringly said, taking a casual sip of gold fizzy liquid from his glass. “It simply baffles me that you have not taken more advantage of her blood running through your veins.”

Tav grimaced, letting both her arms fall at her sides like lifeless pieces of twine. “It feels like I’m nothing more than the dowry in your marriage to your ambitions.”

Algos glided his finger down the side of her face, finding a loose curl to toy with. “No need to make extremes out of this, love; you’re much smarter than that. All I ask is that you stay by my side and trust me to handle the meat boiling inside the bones,” he slowly said, curling his lips into a smug look.

The muscles in the groove of her lower mouth involuntarily twitched. “Stand by your side as you galavant around with actual criminals while using me and my family like whores?! Those are the types of individuals that have rotted Faerûn, Algos! Ones whose damned schemes we should be disemboweling,” Tav snapped, trying to keep her voice down.

She angrily clutched the hand stroking her silken tresses. “Nepotism by my parents' accomplishments is not something I believe in exploiting. That map was…do you have any idea what you’ve done? The danger involved? I never agreed to any of this.”

Algos raised her hand to his lips for a kiss, devious eyes peeking over her knuckles under a weighty brow. “And yet, here you are continuing to pretend to be everything you hate. Putting on a show in front of all the upper class to garner their favor for yours truly,” he whispered harshly. “Even going as far as to allow me to use that very nepotism you have carefully avoided to strike together the flints that will spark the flames needed to build an innovative future.”

“Besides, the people love to hear stories about heroes: their rise and their fall,” Algos forebodingly remarked, gulping down one last mouthful of drink.

Fall? Did he mean to suggest—?

Disoriented in the hollow of his words, she sensed she was caught in yet another trap. Caught in his orated words that carried separate terminologies from the sentences he formed. Caught because he held both her dreams and night scourges in the palms of his hands, conducting them as a marionette. Caught because she was frightened of what he could do to her and her parents. Caught because of what he’d already done.

Caught because she loved him.

Yet, wasn’t sacrifice part of truly loving someone? Stripping everything away until all that was left were both their damnations and heaven’s respite in their cohesive bodily belfry. At least that was what she had come to believe about love.

And loving Algos? Ha. That had become a form of self-flagellation. With each lash from his actions—his words—welting her mind in the deepest shades of blues and blacks.

Tears formed in her ducts, stinging the thin skin there. “How much further are you willing to go, Algos?” Tav shakily questioned.

“As far as I need to,” he growled, forcefully wrapping her hand around his bicep as he walked them towards the doors to soon reopen. “We’ll address this confusion later on. For now, shall we head back? You do have an audience to enchant.”

From the songstress’s mouth, the Anima Sola suffered in her throat, threatening to painfully scream while she tried to break her shackles to a man she devoted her life to for close to a decade.

This wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him.

He loved her…he loved her…he loved her…

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It has been said that the eyes are the window to the soul. Yet, what of doors?

Doors open and close: one opportunity leading to the next. A ceaseless funnel as the era of the living persisted from birth into death. Still, regardless of the ability to seize such possibilities, a numerous amount remained soundly shut. Shut because of the cruel mistress called fear. Humanity with their spiritual set of keys oft left staring too long at locked doors, that they fail to see others that have been left ajar.

For Tav, however, it had been the opposite. The yawning doorway she found all those years ago, murmured false promises of love, security, and happiness in the form of a man named Algos. And, oh, how guilelessly she tried to steal it all away for herself without even fathoming that she should have waited in front of that one forsaken sealed door until it was ready to be unbolted.

But now, as she followed Algos’s lead stepping over the doorsill back into the stimulating celebrations at the Cassalanter villa, Tav knew he was throwing them both into their inferno graves. Reflexively, she shut her eyes as they moved, listening to his heavy boots for guidance.

The countdown in her head started until they would be met again with an onslaught of noises.

One, two, three…

Silence.

…four, five, six…

More silence.

Her lids flew open, peering out into an entirely different scene. The guests had disappeared. Victoro and Ammalia Cassanter, even his aunt Robine, were nowhere to be found. The villa had transformed into what appeared to be gray slabs of rocks and splintered bones, floating in a strange sky. Above her, the impeccable ornamental garlands had mysteriously vanished, leaving behind a dusky galaxy oscillating in blue, purple, and misty hues.

The bard checked herself, noticing the gown she had worn changed into her usual camp clothes. Even the sophisticated ringlets she donned were replaced with her regular plait thrown over a shoulder.

And then, she understood: it was all a dream.

Tav pieced together that Algos had not escorted her into their once lethal future beyond that portent door, but instead, out of a nightmare from their past life together and back into her present day—or wherever this foreign place was.

She called out to her companions one by one, hopeful they were in the same vicinity. “Shadowheart? Wyll? Gale? Karlach? Lae’zel? Halsin? Astarion? Scratch? Where are you guys?”

However, despite the lack of an answer from her friends, she wasn’t alone.

There, in the quiet proximate distance, her ex-fiancé idled near a shadowy precipice observing a formation created from debris out in the buoyant space that Tav couldn’t entirely see.

“Algos…?!” She alarmingly squeaked out, as if she had seen a ghost.

Why didn’t he disappear when she woke from the dream? He couldn’t still be—no. That wasn’t possible.

The man turned to her, a tranquil smile deepening his aging lines. It astounded her how he looked exactly the same as he once did, save for being clad in shining golden armor. “Hello. Are you alright? I know this is probably unsettling for you.”

Instantly, tremors overtook her body, rattling her teeth together. “But, you’re…you’re…dead! H-how…are y-you…s-s-still alive?! I k-killed—.”

“I-I k-killed…I KILLED YOU!” Her voice curdled, as it thickened with her screaming saliva.

Tav fell to the ground sobbing, an urge to vomit steadily filling her throat. The pangs in her heart became unbearable as her blood seemed to be blockaded from entering its ventricles. Her fingertips clawed into the thin layer of stony dust for purchase, hoping the ground would swallow her whole. Regardless of the passed years after his death, she was nevertheless at his mercy.

Salted earth inside his mouth, He has been preserved. Discord: his acolyte, Has time already been served?

Footsteps approached her, crossing the gigantic craggy mass confidently. “I am sorry to have frightened you. Let me help you up so I may explain,” his soothing vocals seeped out into the air over her.

Through Tav’s overgrown bangs, she saw his hand reaching downwards, palm opened for her to take. Angrily, she swatted it away. “Don’t touch me! Don’t you EVER fucking touch me!”

Algos patiently retracted the scoop of his mitt. “Perhaps it would serve us both better if I were more direct about your predicament. For starters: I’m not actually Algos.”

She loudly cackled. “Not actually—oh, that’s fucking rich! Out of all the times you’ve gaslighted me, this is certainly a first. Run out of interesting ways to terrorize me? Decided to finally manipulate me into believing you’re someone else entirely out of boredom, have you?”

“Do me a favor and kill me off like you should’ve done 10 years ago. Just get it over with. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?!” Tav added as salty streams soaked her cheeks.

He cleared his throat. “Tavelle, you’re still dreaming.”

“What…?”

“This,” the man gestured around the unknown area. “is a lucid dream; a by-product from the tadpoles. It’s how I’m able to somewhat physically manifest to you and your friends. Had I known this form would upset you in this manner, I would have reconsidered my choice.”

“I don’t—what?” She repeated, crossing her shaking arms tightly against her chest.

The subtle infliction of desperation buried in his tone did not escape her. He had knowledge about the tadpoles and, given mention about her friends, their travels thus far. Shit, stranger things have happened to her since they started said journey—taking a sun-walking fussy vampire to bed being one.

Should she believe him? Or It? Would it serve her to extend an ampul of her trust to his claims?

As she studied it, Tav admitted that this version of Algos did appear different. Concentrating on its speech patterns, it struck her that it was vastly more monotone—clearer—than the man she called her ex sweetheart. Its mannerisms were devoid from the calculating quirks she was forced to accept, in favor of an almost calming breeze to its movements. If anything, it was worth it to consider it was being honest and Algos—the real Algos—was still decaying six feet underground for her own peace of mind.

At this point, what did she have to lose? The inner twistings from the mind flayer transmogrification may happen soon anyways.

“This is insanity,” she blew out, wiping her face. “I am probably a downright twit for even considering some of this to be true, but what—er—who exactly are you then?”

It took a moment to answer. “I’m an adventurer—just like you. And just like you, I wish to be free of this infectious mind control. I was the one that saved you from the Nautiloid; surely you remember?”

Memories brightly erupted in the dimples throughout her brain as it rushed its thoughts into her. In one scene, it stood before her pod, unlatching the mechanism that kept her contained. Then, it kept her falling body from colliding like a ragdoll into the sands of the beach back near the crash site.

“Gods above.” She pushed herself upwards, balancing on the balls of her feet until she regained her strength to stand. “That still doesn’t explain why you look nearly identical to Algos,” Tav pressured. “Are you a changeling of some sort?”

“It’s more complicated than that, but I will clarify as much as I’m able,” it started, folding its hands together below its waist. “I can connect with, not only yours, but all your companion’s tadpoles. Through those connections, we’re able to communicate telepathically. The visions within your thoughts sometimes become like a puzzle for me to piece together; other times, they are transparent.”

“Algos” held out its arm to the side signaling for them to take a walk. “Your trances have been consumed with images of this man whose likeness I have taken on. When I realized I could properly meet you through your dreams, I decided the best way would be for me to greet you through the image of someone you once knew. Perhaps I did not deduce the full gravity of your emotions towards this human, and for that, I apologize. It is not my intention to deceive you—quite the opposite actually.”

Tav held up her hands, swirling her index fingers in a backwards circle around the other. “Wait, back up. Am I to understand that you also have a worm inside your head and you can hear or see my thoughts?”

“The uncomplicated answer is: yes.”

Her brow lifted suspiciously. “And the complicated answer?”

The “changeling, yet not changeling” considered her question, a droll hum rumbling at the top of his throat. “First: may I change into someone more palatable for you? Then, we can discuss some of your queries.”

“How are you even able to do that? Is it like a flick of the wrist and bibbidi-bobbidi—nevermind. I mean, please go ahead, just…nobody I know.”

Except, it did shift into someone she recognized. A highly regarded older graying woman that was oft mentioned amongst the civilians for her astute political position in the ‘Council of Four’ as they propagated the daily streets in Baldur's Gate. One that she had never formally met, but saw distributing a few coins into her tip bag while playing the lute on street corners within the big city.

“Duke Belynne Stelmane?” Tav huffed out an unbelievable laugh, planting her hands on either side of her hips.

The morphing creature presented her with a closed mouth grin, identical to that shrewd pucker Stalmane typically touted. “Yes. Do you know about her?”

“It would be hard not to; she is one of the most important women in power along the Sword Coast. I never had the opportunity to speak with her seeing as we obviously ran in different cliques,” the bard answered truthfully. “Did you know her personally?”

“For a while. She was a dear friend to me and one that helped me to seize back my life at some point. We worked together to make a real change out there. But, that time has aged and deteriorated.”

‘Curious,’ she thought. ‘Those unblinking eyes barely show a hint of emotion.’

“I am sorry to hear that Duke—ahem, could I possibly call you by a different name? Just in case you decide to have another glamorous makeover that I may not recognize next time,” Tav teased. “How about the name ‘Dreamy?’”

“You may call me whatever you wish for the time being,” Dreamy coolly accepted.

“Grand! How about we take that walk now?”

They circumnavigated the rocky terrain several passes as Dreamy patiently answered Tav’s questioning scruples. It explained to her that the tadpoles were swaddled in exceptional magic that prevented withdrawal, but she should evaluate learning how to use their power as it may be the only way to save the possible destruction of Faerûn. Its only option was to steal the power that was now protecting them, but at the cost of creating a lot of enemies.

“When I discovered information that these ‘True Souls’ began infecting the people by turning them into their own vessels, I realized they meant to do more damage than creating a surplus of mind flayers—they wanted dominion over them,” Dreamy stated as it turned to view Tav’s shock. “True Souls carry the same supernaturally-infused tadpoles as yourself. The only variation being that those that are infected with normal worms hear the True Souls as if they are connected by a colony hivemind and believe them to be gods.”

Her mind raced trying to process the minutiae to the bigger picture. This was nowhere near what she had predicted after wobbling out of that flayer pod; this was a sentient, respiring nightmare. Would it even be possible to eradicate the True Souls if they wielded that amount of power? And what about the consumption of additional tadpoles? Dreamy failed to mention side effects that could be associated with such risks.

“I-I’m unsure what to say,” Tav muttered at a loss for words, stretching her arm upwards to tug at the skin above her collarbone as if she was still proving to herself that any measure of this was real. “May I return now? Out of this dream and back to camp. I need to speak with everyone as soon as possible.”

“You have been through enough tonight, I will sever the connection as you’d like,” it said, bowing respectively without a single hair of Stelmane’s resemblance loosening out of place.

Her lips pulled up in gratitude while she watched Dreamy walk a few paces ahead, once again beholding a fascination for an object out in the oil slicked atmosphere.

“Tavelle?” It asked before a pregnant pause, the clanking of its armor becoming silent in the unfamiliar ether. “Do you think you should tell them?”

“Tell them what?”

“About what happened to your family.”

Tav inquisitively stared at Dreamy as she sharply took a breath, the thudding of her heart jumping into her windpipe. “Why? All of Faerûn already knows what I’ve done.”

⸺⋘✤⋙⸺

Notes:

Elvish name: Tavelle Etriel'kerymaera = Tavelle Lady Swordsong

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