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#the bewilderment and confusion is great
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Things Rand learns about Moiraine in the course of five minutes in 02 x 05:
She is from Cairhien.
Her family is RICH. Like marry the Queen rich.
She has a sister and a nephew.
That weird lady who told him the Hunt for the Horn isn’t real and how the rich people in Cairhien disdain the people in the Foregate is her sister.
(Maybe that she’s a Damodred, but I don’t think of Rand as a real history buff so idk if that will mean anything to him.)
She hasn’t seen her family in 20 years.
They don’t know Lan.
Things Rand knew about Moiraine before 02 x 05:
She once had trouble channeling when she was learning to be an Aes Sedai.
(Maybe that she is a lady from a fallen house - depends if he believed/remembered that comment she made to the whitecloaks.)
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ghostgirl101 · 3 months
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Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||
A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?
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You weren't one for dreams of destiny.
The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.
But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.
You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.
The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.
His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.
"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."
Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.
"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."
His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.
"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.
"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."
Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.
Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.
You were absolutely perfect.
And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.
"Do you know what I am?"
You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."
"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"
You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.
"No," you decide on hesitantly.
"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."
His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.
"In this future, I am with you."
All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.
"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.
"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."
"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"
His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.
"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"
The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.
But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.
"That's unfair."
"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."
You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.
"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."
You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.
"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."
Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.
"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."
Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.
When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.
"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.
⊹⊹⊹
From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.
The first step has been made.
══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════
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DPXDC prompt. Ghost King uses Uno Reverse Card
Ghosts are not a race of evil creatures that most people think they are. And Danny was really happy when the Infinite Realms were able to make peace treaties with most countries of the human world. Ghosts, however, are a very vindictive race. At least that’s how young Phantom explained himself to Batman afterwards.
It just so happens that a couple of hours before the event aimed at expanding intergalactic unions most of the JLeague members due to an emergency call went on a mission. Which means people who had any authority in Phantom’s eyes became unavailable for a while.
So Shazam and Phantom as the most known outside the Earth were assigned to greet the guests and most importantly to entertain the visitors until the founders of JL return.
According to Phantom, Batman, being such a good detective with a bunch of backup plans, should have known that Danny’s favorite cereal ran out this morning, that he was late for first class, and that after school he had a fight with his parents. No, seriously, aren’t so-called scientists supposed to be able to admit mistakes in their own judgment? Danny got tired of being constantly ashamed of their behavior near other ghosts. It's bad enough that his authority as a ruler is sustained only by the support of those Ancients with whom he maintains friendly relations. Average citizens still doubt that he is a is sufficient to claim the throne. He’s had enough of being accused of not being a full-fledged ghost.  He’s not ready to hear rumors that he supports his parents' racist judgments too. In short, his day sucked. And all his ghostly nature now wanted to do something nasty to his neighbors to get rid of the tension.
Alien leader stretched out a hand to Phantom and Shazam. “Your Majesty Phantom, Champion of Magic. It’s an honor to meet you. I hope I learned the proper greeting gesture of the local intelligent race.”
And with that Danny’s reserve of conscience ran out. It’s a perfect moment to feed his need to be a little shit.
“The local intelligent race?’ Danny had this extreme bewilderment on his face. “Which one do you think..? Earth was the home of the Gods and of various inhabitants of the galaxy but it was a long time ago.”
Woman is clearly confused. Great. “E-Earthers. I think they’re called that.”
“Earthlings, intelligent race? You must be mistaken.” Danny faked a giggle. “Who told you that crap?”
“Phantom, what are you doing?” Batman hissed at him from an earpiece. Danny turned the sound off with a clear conscience. “I mean, seriously, there’s not a single serious study in the science library in this galaxy or any other galaxy that says humans are intelligent. Shazam, do you think they’re..?”
For some reason, Billy immediately remembered watching a man spend his entire salary on lottery tickets last week. And of course he was careless enough to shake his head and snort. That was all Phantom needed.
“Exactly. Earthlings don’t have to be intelligent to mimic the behavior of more evolved species. Surely you are well aware that Martians and Kryptonians, and many others have visited Earth at different stages of human development. My supervisor Clockwork and I have long been observing this strange species. In many ways, their behavior resembles a mixture of instinctive reactions of specimens from the 126 sectors of the nearest SBc Galaxy and several other creatures from planets of the galaxy KV59. However, even I, as an anthropologist with extensive experience of observing human species in their natural habitat, still have to explore and discover many of their secrets.”
“I do not understand. According to the documents among the delegation that greets us there are Earthlings. I mean I don’t question the scientific evidence of a respected Chronos or you, but why then..”
“Of course you don’t! It’s really quite simple. For the purity of the clinical experiment, which we are conducting now, it is necessary that Earthlings feel themselves ostensibly full participants of the «society» consisting of members with developed intelligence.”
“So, any luck, colleague?” Shazam, who realized that Batman would now skin them anyway, decided to at least participate in this theater so that the punishment would be at least deserved.
“Well, we’ve certainly come up with some interesting preliminary insights about the adaptive capacity of the human brain in limited contact with Martians. Of course, humans do not have real emotions to be full participants in communication, but their attempts and zeal are very inspiring.”
~~~~~
Meanwhile, Fentons watching a live broadcast of what was supposed to be an interplanetary friendship encounter are beginning to realize that if trying to punish a rebellious human teenager has always been difficult for them, the attempt to control the behavior of the 14 y/o half-ghost may become a nightmare not only for them.
Jack: Honey, I think Danny’s still a little upset about our old theories about the ability of ghosts to feel or think.
Jazz, sitting between them with the face of a man resigned to the chaos around her, could not restrain the sarcasm: Really? Why would you think that?
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artteristly · 15 days
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༉‧𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒, 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓 𝐁.
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𝒮ynopsis, in which you had just confessed your love to benedict and he feels the same, he promised you nothing but the best for you two. if so why is he regretting the thought of marriage and love? but everyone knows he regrets saying such things when you overheard.
𝓌ord count, 3.3k
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𝒲hen you were young, you dreamed of marrying a prince. a man who looked kind and handsome, a man with a smile filled with pearly white teeth, a charming smile, an adoring feature you hoped your kids would have ━ and you did.
Your parents had been invited to Aubrey Hall, to celebrate a small party for Daphne's birthday. To be frank, you were mesmerized by Benedict Bridgerton.
The boy had a contagious laugh, a stupid slanted smile, and was decent at pallmall. He had tamed brown hair that shone brighter when the sun hit it at the right angle. He was simply the boy who made your heart pitter-patter when he helped you position the ball right.
From then on, he was the boy you expected to see when you visited Aubrey Hall. You will say that your childhood was more vibrant when you were with him, he was a mischievous boy, always wanting to have fun.
Benedict would always drag you along, making him your best friend. It felt different when you grew up to be a beautiful lady, that boy was now a man. A man you couldn't be that careless around anymore, not if you wanted to get married.
Benedict couldn't understand but he found different ways to play around with you. Sending you flirtatious glares around the ballroom, inviting you to dance, and whispering some things in your ears that made you flush red.
Though you loved it, finding a husband with the boy always at your hip made it rather hard. It seemed to change when you were serious about getting married, making the boy utterly lost for words.
"Darling, why are you ignoring me?" Benedict had snuck up behind you with a cup of champagne and whispered the first bit. You turn around surprised at his appearance. "Benedict, not now please." You huffed, looking at the young man who asked for the next dance.
"Why are you mad?" You could hear it in his voice that he was being playful but you couldn't care less. "Benedict." You gave him a look, making him realize you were up for no joke. "Miss Hawthorn, a dance? " The young gentleman had interrupted your gaze with Benedict, making you snap out of it and smile at him.
While the two of you danced, Benedict just watched. He walked around the room, eyes on you. That was until his gaze was interrupted by his mama catching him. “Mother, I did not see you.” Violet could hear it in his voice that he was beginning to be troubled. “Dearest, what is on your mind?” She ripped her eyes away from him to the dance floor. 
Oh, she knew. She could see you smile at the Lord who had said something funny while you two danced. “Oh, Benedict..” Violet hugged his arm, making him hum and look down at her. “What is it, mother?” Benedict wanted to know what she was thinking about. 
“You know, all of us love her. She’d be a great daughter–in–law.” Violet smiled at her second oldest. Benedict looked at his mother in nothing but bewilderment, was she mad? You were his beloved friend, a friend he wanted to keep close to because, in all sincerity, he would be lost without you. 
“Dearest, I see the way you look at her, your father would call you a fool in love if he were to see it.” Violet tapped his arm before leaving him to dwell in his thoughts. A fool in love? Was he in love with you? His heart was demanding it, and who was he to deny it from it? 
When the dance had finished, he rushed to your side once again. “A dance, Miss Hawthorn?” Benedict avoided your eyes, making you a bit confused. “Of course, Mister Bridgerton.” You were hesitant to grab his hand but reluctantly you gave in as he led you once again to the dance floor. 
Everything felt hot for you, you simply didn’t know why. You had danced with Benedict far too many times, was this time perhaps different? His grip on your waist was a bit tight and his gaze seemed darker. “Benedict, is everything all right?” You whispered just enough for him to hear you. 
You were a whole gap away from him but he felt your lips mere inches away. Benedict could only look at your lips as you kept muttering things to get his attention, were your lips always alluring? They had a beautiful shade of pink that blended with a shade of light red. 
Was it wrong to see you differently now? He always saw you as his best friend, a girl who was still young and fed his artistic desires. Now he felt off, he wanted to plant his lips on you this very instance. “Why are you mad at me?” He asked. 
You just looked at him with bewilderment, had he not gotten the slightest idea why? You sigh and look away, trying to recollect your thoughts, wanting to tell him most adequately. “Benedict, I’m simply trying to seek something.” You say, trying to initiate a thought in him. 
“You’ve lost me,” Benedict asked, confused, making you shut your eyes. “I’m seeking a husband Benedict and if I’m always by your side, it makes it hard–it gives people the wrong idea.” You whispered and somehow he heard you clear as day. 
The dance continued, and his grip on you became tighter each time, and when the song came to an end, he spoke again. “Let them get the wrong idea.” He said, and suddenly the room felt empty. You looked up at him, his gaze changed, and he looked yearningly. He wanted nothing but to keep you right by his side, he didn’t want to share you. He had you first. 
“Please, give me a moment.” You hurriedly walked away, making him instantly keep his eyes on you as you left. 
The air felt heavy, too hot, and suffocating. Benedict had just added fuel to the fire you wanted to put out. Benedict? Oh, Benedict. He made it hard to breathe like he steals the very air you need. How would you talk to him after this, he had made it hard to do so. 
Then a sudden crunch of the gravel made you look behind, and the very man that took too much space of your heart stood before you. “Benedict? Why are you here?” You asked clenching your fan, you were scared. Scared you were going to lose something tonight. 
“I need to speak with you.”He said, looking at you the same moment before. He stepped forward and was just mere inches away from you. He looked down at you deeply, his hand visibly shaking. “Benedict, this doesn’t look right.” You push away, not wanting to cause a scandal. 
“I love you.” The three words tasted rather foreign. It caught you off guard, making you stop in your tracks. 
“Benedict, you don’t know what you're speaking of.” You denied his words, not believing him. “Please don’t play with my feelings like that.” To be honest, you were quite hurt, was this a joke to him? Was your future a joke to him? “I do know what I’m speaking of, trust me, it is the truth.” Benedict's large hand held yours and you could feel them tremble. 
“I’ve been a blind fool for far too long.” His grip didn’t falter once, and suddenly you wanted to listen. Seeing your sudden interest he continued,” I don’t want to lose you to someone else, I want you right by my side–In so many other ways, you’re my best friend, a companion I wish to grow old by.” His blabbering caused him to be deaf to your words, he ignored your eye contact. 
He had pushed his forehead to rest on yours, feeling confident once your touch calmed him. Your breath was caught in your lungs and your eyes stung with tears, you smiled weakly listening to him talk, it was the mere words you dreamt of hearing. “So please please, I beg of you to stay by my side as my lover, as my wife.” He finally opened his eyes, and oh, did his heart turn. 
You were mesmerizing, the candled venue gave you a hue of color, enough to shine your brimming eyes and rosy cheeks. “Oh, Benedict of course I will.” You laughed lightly before nodding hurriedly. Then he did the unimaginable, he kissed your lips. A kiss that felt soft and sweet, that was when you let your tears finally leave your eyes.
The kisses were short and sweet, he loved it. He kept them like that so he could dive it for seconds. You felt his lips kiss every inch of your face, making you flush red. “Be mine right now. Be mine forever, I’ll give you everything you want, just please be mine.” He said in between the airy kisses. “Benedict, I’ve always been yours, ever since you taught me how to play pallmall.” You laughed. 
He laughed along with sincerity in his eyes, before taking you along to break the news to both of your families, who were nothing but happy for you two. 
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It had been a mere 2 weeks since his confession, and the Bridgerton house was filled with buzzing attention. Violet and Kate were trying to help you look for a wedding dress, and try to help coordinate this wedding. You were grinning ear to ear, you were marrying your prince soon. 
Although throughout this whole process, you had barely seen your to–be husband. Benedict just left a longing kiss on your mouth ever since the night he promised you marriage. Anthony just said he was busy preparing everything for your wedding, but it still felt off. 
Still, today was your last day in their home since you had to return home to make preparations over there too. You were bidding farewell to the younger ones and Violet, thanking her for letting you stay all this time. She had just smiled and whispered in your ear that you were soon going to be around more often. 
Kate had gone to walk by your side as you looked for Benedict, wanting to wish him good night. You smiled at the thought of him telling you good night as well, and as if he heard your wish, he spoke. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know if this wedding is a good idea.” Those exact words wiped the smile off your face, making you stop in your tracks. 
“Whatever do you mean brother?” Colin asked surprised, making Anthony demand it too. “It’s just I feel like it is still so sudden, I’m a bit lost, ever since I left the academy,” Benedict explained, making the other two rather confused. “I don’t want to drag her into my troubles.” He stated. 
You could feel Kate hold your hand, both of you in shock to step in. “I just feel bad because I’ve ruined her, I shouldn’t have done that.” He spoke out, making your heartbreak. Did that kiss not mean anything? Did those damm words mean nothing? Were his stupid promises filled with nothing but nonsense? It seemed like it. 
Suddenly the tension was cut when a butler called out, “Miss Hawthorn, the carriage is ready.” A gasp could be heard. You suddenly walked away, wanting nothing but to get out of there. You choked back a sob as the three busted out of the room. 
As you leave the house you can hear Benedict call after you. “Darling, don’t leave.” It seemed his passionate monologue had woken up the other bystanders on the sidewalk, now attracted to a new source of drama. 
“Leave me alone, Benedict.” You cried out, wanting nothing but to leave and cry your lungs out. “Please, I’ll marry you someday. You’re utterly perfect for me!” He said wanting nothing but to hold you and tell you it was a huge misunderstanding. 
Someday?
Someday when he felt like a man. 
You got into the carriage just to drown out his pleas, quickly knocking on the roof of the carriage. Making your coachman hastily leave the Bridgertons alone, and Benedict freaking out. 
“Why would you dare utter such words, Benedict?!” Kate had yelled at the man, making him even more guilty of it. “I didn’t mean them in a horrid way!” Benedict tried to defend himself, but his new sister in–law wasn’t having it. “You shouldn’t even speak them!” Kate huffed out visibly getting angry at the stupidity of the Bridgerton men. Anthony walked right beside his wife in an attempt to calm her down, and like the faithful husband he was, he was automatically on her side. 
“Kate is right brother, why utter such words?” Anthony asked, making the second oldest sigh in nervousness. Violet walked right in when the argument became still, she was forced to put the youngest siblings down for bed. “Benedict, answer your brother,” Violet spoke calmly, but Benedict could sense it. She was angry, and he didn’t like to see her mad. 
Everyone in the room looked at him and it made him want to break down and run to you. “I’m scared.” Benedict finally confessed, making everyone rather still. “She’s too good for me, she deserves so much more! I’m so lost, I don’t hold a title like you brother! I’m a disappointment of an artist, I don’t deserve her.” Benedict yelled, enough to leave everyone speechless. 
He pushed his way out and ran to his room, locking himself in, not knowing what to do. Honestly, Benedict regretted everything that vomited out of his mouth. He was a stupid idiot. 
Benedict cried that night, it seemed his perfect plan was crumbling, he wanted nothing but you in his arms. As if someone heard his cries, they knocked on his door. “Benedict, please open the door,” Violet whispered, she felt stupid knowing she didn’t see her boy struggling until now. 
Violet heard shuffling around the other until a little creek was heard, and there was her little boy. Tears streamed down his cheeks and, his nose and eyes were all red. “Have I done something wrong, mother?” He asked softly. Violet could only cry out. “You have done nothing wrong Benedict.” She pushed him further into his room. 
That night Benedict felt like a little boy, his mother running her fingers through his hair. Letting it soothe his mind, they spoke of many things that night. How they would go to your home first thing in the morning to clear this misunderstanding, and how it was okay to be scared. 
He had the right to be scared but he had to realise you were probably even more scared. His mother soothed him to bed speaking of how much you loved him, that everyone in this house could tell so. 
He slept so soundly, he just wished you were there instead of his mother. 
When the time came to depart to your home, Violet rode with him. Giving him nothing but advice on how to approach you. He was a sweating mess, were you truly going to forgive him? 
“Mister Bridgerton.” The sturdy voice of your father sent goosebumps down his skin. “Lord Hawthorn.” Benedict tilted his head down to the older man. “Lady Bridgerton!” Your Mama called out right behind your Father, smiling lightly trying to ease the tension. 
Your mother ushered your father into a separate room, finally turning over to Benedict and Violet. Benedict saw your mother's gaze, it was the same one she’d give him when he got in trouble. To your mother, he was still the young boy who craved your attention. 
“Oh, Benedict.” She hummed, making the boy gaze down like a coward. “She’s in the upstairs drawing room.” She ushered him away, giving him the green light for him to advance. He looked at her surprised, he honestly thought she was going to give him an earful. As he left, she stopped him one more time. “Benedict?” She hummed out, making him look back at her. 
She smiled warmly, a type of smile every mother had. “We love you like a son, we know how worthy you are for her.” She sent him away with a new source of confidence, as she and his mama leave for tea. 
Benedict grew up in your home, just as you did in his. He remembered everything about this house, when you dragged him around, or when you two snuck out in the middle of the night. 
The drawing room held a color of pale pink, with shades that went from light to dark. He’d say it was the color that suited you the best, it clashed with your skin perfectly. His eyes wandered looking for your silhouette. You were sitting with your back turned to him, embroidering something. 
He spoke, but the words failed to make noise. Benedict snuck behind you only to catch a glimpse of what you were doing. You were embroidering his initials down to a handkerchief you were going to gift him the day of your wedding. 
Then out of so much concentration, a small piece of hair fell out of your bun, so like the boy he was, he placed it behind your ear. Finally snapping out of your trance, you jump to see Benedict. He could only wish he could slap himself after seeing your expression, your eyes were puffy and red, and you looked so tired of crying. 
“Benedict?” Your voice was small and quiet, and now did he notice you hid the handkerchief. He fixed his posture slightly, fiddling with his top hat that allowed him to poor out his anxiety. “Can we talk?” His voice mirrored yours, finally able to look into your eyes. You were hesitant but gave in. 
Letting him sit right next to you, you could feel his body tense up as he ‘eases’ down on the sofa. The quietness was eating both of you, it made your heart break all over again. “Did you mean those words?” You asked, looking hesitantly at him. 
“No! No, I regretted them the moment I spoke them.” He abruptly turned over to you, looking right at you with desire. “I’m scared I am not what you deserve..” The moment when those words spilled out of his mouth, you cried out. “Benedict you fool, you’re everything I want.” You pushed out tears. 
“Please let me finish.” He wiped your tears away with his large hands, then slid his fingers to your chin, tilting it up so he could see your eyes. “I’m lost my dear, my art is taking me nowhere.” He uttered, continuing. “I regret violating your innocence, I should’ve married you first.” He wiped your fresh tears again before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Oh Benedict you simpleton.” You spoke out, finally taking his face into your hands. “I’ve loved you since I was of the age of fourteen, loved how you used me for a reference for your paintings, how you called it ‘needing something beautiful to draw’, you had no idea such words made me feel.” Slowly placing kisses on his skin and it growing warm after. 
“Loved how you took care of me when I grew sick, how you’d teach me how to paint even though I was horrible at it.” Placing your lips everywhere. “You have no idea how much I want you, Benedict.– Don’t ever say you’re not worthy of me, because I would choose you no matter what.” With that, you simply place a kiss on his lips. 
Benedict didn’t know how to explain it but something blossomed in his heart at that very moment. His fingers held the side of your face as if you were a rare pink stargazer lily when he kissed your lips, but dare he say they tasted sweeter the first time he kissed you. 
When you two parted, it felt right. “Would you still marry me?” He asked placing his forehead on yours, wanting nothing but hold you until they ripped him off of you. “Yes Benedict, Yes I will.”
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gentlyweeps-world · 6 months
Text
The “It Girl”
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summary: Being a rookie in the world of Formula One comes with challenges, added on with the fact you’re a girl, American and racing for Red Bull doesn’t help. While you do have your “guard dogs” and “it girl” tendencies, it doesn’t help that you’re also trying to figure out romance.
pairing: 2021 grid x fem! driver, romantic interest tbd
warnings: sexism, alcohol consumption, toxic environments, uncomfortable situations
LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO
Many had said the 2021 grid was the best, the most exciting grid yet. While that was true, it wasn’t fun as a rookie in Red Bull, better yet, a female rookie in Red Bull. But that wasn’t the end of it, an American female rookie racing for Red Bull.
Least to say PR had a field day when they announced you would be replacing Checo after his retirement in 2020.
At only 21 years old you were making history, and you were once again today. Finishing P1 on home soil at the circuit of Americas.
Now here you were, alongside Max Verstappen, your teammate, and Lewis Hamilton, the break in between the two Red Bulls.
“Y/n how do you look so good after a race?”
“Y/n what makeup do you use?”
Only ten minutes ago did the end of race press conference start, and only five minutes did the most sexist and offensive questions start. And only seconds ago is when you were put out of your daze from the most infuriating question you had received.
“Y/n? How do you race while menstruating?”
Suddenly knocked out of your daze, your face contorts into one of shock and annoyance from the question.
“E-excuse me?”, You ask out shocked, not sure if you had heard the question right. I mean after all this was a post race conference, and not one question was about racing.
You glance over to Lewis and Max, who both look equally upset and disgusted.
The interviewer looks at you and smiles while he asks once more, “Can you tell us about how racing while having to deal with menstruation affects race strategy in your car?”
Max and Lewis still have a confused look, while Max looks at the interviewer like he will rip the guy’s head off.
The interviewer smiles and says, “Don’t be offended L/n, but girls and women on their period don’t think as fast or as clearly.” He then pauses for a moment to think about what he’s just said, and he adds, “Of course, it doesn’t matter anyway, women don’t belong in F1.”
You can feel your face contort to bewilderment, taking a moment to realize this interviewer was from DTS. Then you hear Max slap his hand on the table.
“She just got fucking P1 and you expect her to answer these ridiculous questions? Treat her with some respect, she’s done more than you have!”, Max says sternly, his eyes shooting daggers at the interviewer.
The interviewer grows visibly intimidated by Maxs reaction. He swallows twice and his tone visibly changes
“I-I’m sorry, I just had to ask.”
Lewis then speaks up and says to the interviewer, “I want you to listen to what you just said and think about what you just did. Women aren’t allowed to drive just because they are on their period, do you even hear yourself?” Lewis sounds genuinely sad.
Max remains silent, but his eyes are still angry. Instead of adding anything onto the conversation you just sit there, shock still on your face.
You let out an awkward cough, drinking some of you Red Bull, you clear your throat and look up towards the interviewers, annoyance clear in your eyes.
“Could we please move on now? Maybe ask a racing related question”, You say, showing no interest in being there.
For a few seconds, there is complete silence. Then a new interviewer finally manages to speak.
“Of course, a new question. So, Y/n, how do you feel about being the second woman to win a Grand Prix in Formula One?”
A faint smile appears on your face as you hear the question, “About time, a normal question”, You hear Max mumble out, a grin tugs at your lips, thankful Max has your back.
“It feels great, I’m super grateful for my team and engineers”, You say, “But very thankful to win, glad to have proved all of the doubters wrong”
Another reporter then pipes up and asks, “How did you feel about the backlash from a lot of people who didn’t want a woman in F1?”
You take a moment to think on how to respond, taking a moment to consider how much trouble you could get in if you answered honestly, but that was PR jobs right?
“Uh..well I think they’re fucking stupid, and they clearly don’t know who Desiré Wilson is”, You state, a small smirk on your face as you answer, knowing DTS will eat that up.
For a moment everyone is silent, until Lewis breaks out laughing, “I think this would be a great way to end this conference”, He says with a grin, getting up from his seat and moving out of the room. Max soon follows behind, and you’re quick to follow Max, not sure what to do afterwards.
As Max and you make your way back to the garage you hear chants and jeers thrown out, but it wasn’t enough to wipe off the smile on your face.
Finally reaching the Red Bull garage, Max and you get there and are immediately bombarded with cheers, laughter and applause from the Red Bull team.
After a good hour of celebrating with the team, you feel your phone vibrate in your hand, “Who is it?”, Max asks, curious to see who texted you.
Checking the notification it’s from an unknown number, asking if you wanted to go and celebrate with them, you look up at Max with confusion, but his face shows the opposite.
“Didn’t know he would be asking you so soon..”, Max says with a look of shock.
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radio: Hope this was a good one, im quite excited to work on this series!! I’m leaving it up to you guys to pick a love interest in the comments, keep in mind the grid is 2021 not 2023 💙💙 (send in any requests and leave any comments)
next part
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 months
Note
OH BIG BRAIN IDEA-
Reverse Puss In Boots panic attack scene with Reader calming Dogday down from a panic attack, 'cause this case it's the dog that needs comforting-
"[Y/n]! Come quickly! Something's wrong with Dogday!"
Pausing in your repairs of Kissy's arm, you made sure to cut the thread before giving her an apologetic look. Fortunately, she seemed to understand that you needed to heed Poppy's call right away, and so you followed the little doll into the next room over.
There, Dogday was resting...although at this moment he was very much doing the opposite.
He was slumped against the wall, out of the makeshift dogbed you and Kissy put together for him, a hand clutching his chest--but it kept heaving, rapidly rising and falling with each labored breath.
His white pupils were completely gone, not a shred of light to be found within his sockets, and that was very alarming.
Did he see something?
Did an intruder try to get in?
While Poppy couldn't guarantee any place in the factory was safe, she did mention this area was a good place to hunker down, rest, and plan your next move against the Prototype.
But if that's the case...then what was going on with him?
You needed to find out fast.
"Dogday...what's wrong..??!"
Even though he could hear you and see you kneeling in front of him, concern written all over your face, he simply couldn't answer. He couldn't even keep his focus on you, as a whirlwind of terror and panic clouded his mind.
The only thing he could do was paw at his chest, unable to make sense of why his heart refused to stop pounding, as though it was trying to break free.
Or maybe..
It was a little Smiling Critter who stowed away inside him, trying to get out....
The more he thought about it, the worse he felt.
"I don't know what happened.." Poppy murmured to you, shaking her head. "I swear he was fine a second ago! Y-You think his organs might be shutting down? Or his hunger is-?"
"No, I know exactly what's wrong." You calmly answered, much to her bewilderment.
But before she could question you further, you moved over to Dogday's side before hugging him around the torso, squishing your cheek against his chest the moment he took his paws off of it.
And you simply waited.
The little doll had no idea how this was helping him, although she soon realized his breaths were finally starting to slow. His white pupils flickered back to life, looking down and seeing you embrace him without any regard to your own safety.
Somehow..you provided him with such a comforting weight that drowned out his panicked thoughts.
One of his trembling paws eventually came to rest atop your head, and he slowly began to pet you much like a human would pet a dog: gentle, ensuring he wasn't too rough.
After a few more moments passed, you felt his breaths even out to the point where his chest wasn't heaving like before, and he placed his paw on your back.
Finally, he spoke.
"A-Angel...thank you..I..don't know what happened.."
"It's okay." You sat up to look at him, seeing the tears threatening to spill from his sockets. "You were just having a panic attack. But it's over..you did great."
"Is..that what it was?" He murmured, confused.
"That's all it was. Do you remember what led to it?"
"...'m not sure. I was..just thinking about Catnap, and the Prototype, and suddenly I felt this strange tightness in my chest. Thought somethin' was wrong with my lungs...a-and then the room just started spinning. Next thing I knew, I...I-I couldn't breathe. I couldn't talk to Poppy or you, angel. Thought one of those wretched things was trying to eat me from the inside out. B-But..that was just all in my head, right? I'm not...nothing was-?"
"I made sure none snuck inside when I was fixing you up. You're safe from them." Taking one of his paws into your hands, you smiled, seeing Kissy walk into the room. "Catnap and the Prototype have been on all of our minds lately, and it's been...a stressful few hours."
"...I didn't mean to scare you all..usually it's me who calms people down, ya know?" He sighed quietly, still feeling guilty. "You sure I'm not going to slow you down? Because if I have another attack...i-it could be at the worst time, and then-"
"Then I'll help you through it. I made a promise to get you all out of here, and I'm sticking by that." You reassured.
Dogday looked surprised, but he relaxed his shoulders in relief, tail wagging along the floor. "Thank you, angel.."
He had his doubts before, about whether saving him from the Playhouse was more trouble than it's worth.
But now he knows you're in this for the long run, ready to help guide him out of the darkness.
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mangomonk · 10 months
Text
i thought that i was dreaming when you said you loved me
↳ summary: read this drabble first! goodie two shoes!remus, afraid of being perceived as other, stumbles into a relationship at the expense of y/n. ↳ content: angst, one-sided fake dating ↳ a/n: a little nervous because this is my first time writing for remus pls be gentle w me! for full enjoyment, listen to ivy by frank ocean (i looped it the entire time i wrote this). the more i wrote this, the more i realized i could turn this into a full blown million word fic, but i tried to keep it as condensed as possible, hence some time skips/summarization. pt. 2 here!
When Remus Lupin confesses — no, announces — that he likes her in the middle of the Great Hall, she thinks she's dreaming. Surely, she didn't hear that correctly. Only hours earlier, she had witnessed the doe-eyed boy unleash a slew of curses beneath his breath. I guess everyone has bad days, she had thought. Even Remus, who she had always pegged as straight-laced and well-mannered.
So when a half a dozen heads turn to stare at her directly, Y/N turns to see if there's anyone behind her. When she sees no one, she turns back forward. It's when Remus Lupin's soft, brown gaze meets hers that her heart stutters dangerously in her chest. She can't help it despite the bewilderment she feels — everyone in the castle has to have some sort of crush on the fluffy-haired boy. He's all soft, disarming smiles and beautiful, brown eyes and knitted jumpers and gentle laughter and—
—and Y/N goes red in the face right away. It doesn't help when Remus tilts his head to the side slightly and offers a small, uncertain smile. Merlin, help me, Y/N thinks as she stares back, wide-eyed, her confusion and any thoughts briefly neutralized at the way his eyes crinkle into little half-moons.
— — — — —
Y/N has always prided herself on being a sharp judge of character. It soon became clear to her, however, that Remus Lupin was a strange, but intriguing case of contradicting character.
Following his confession — rather, announcement — in the Great Hall, she becomes overly conscious of the tall boy. It feels as though she's suddenly very aware that they have most of their classes together, that he sits only a seat away from her in Charms, that he has chicken scratch for handwriting when she passes him in the library. The latter comes as a surprise — perhaps unfairly, she would have pegged him as a swooping cursive type of boy. In any case, it soon becomes the case that Y/N realizes that she can find Remus easily in a room of crowded students, and the more she does, the more she begins to realize that Remus is a boy full of surprises.
This doesn't seem to matter though, because strangely, after his confession in the Great Hall, Remus does not once approach her. Occasionally, she catches him glancing at her with an odd expression, but outside of an increase in being stared at by the other students, little changes in her life.
It isn't until a week later when her seat partner in Charms is out that their paths cross again. When she trudges to her seat in class, she becomes very quickly aware that they're separated only by an empty chair. She doesn't look away fast enough because Remus looks up as she pulls her chair out, his gaze snagging on to hers with an intensity that she doesn't expect from the softness of his eyes.
"Good morning," he says slowly, almost uncertainly. Up close, Y/N can see a splay of pale freckles across his cheekbones. His lashes are unfairly, distractingly long as he gazes up at her.
"Hi," Y/N says, equally uncertain, though she tries to keep her voice light and casual. No one's ever really had a crush on her before, and she finds herself floundering on how to act. Shouldn't he be the nervous one, and not her? Somehow though, she can feel her palms begin to sweat, though Remus doesn't look nervous at all. Just sharp and assessing. Fortunately though, before the air between them can turn any awkwarder, a mussed-haired head pops up from around Remus.
"Y/N, right?" James Potter asks with a wide grin. His glasses are skewed and crooked on his face as he peers around Remus at her rather owlishly.
Next to him, Remus blinks a few times as she nods, opening her mouth to speak when Professor Flitwick clears his throat to begin class.
She tries to focus on taking notes, but it's difficult when she can see Remus casting her sidelong glances from her peripheral view. She gives up on trying to focus on class entirely when a folded piece of parchment flits over the gap between them with a familiar chicken scratch.
Can we talk after class?
After class, Y/N has a ridiculous, irrational flash of self-consciousness that the humidity has made her hair begin to frizz. Remus doesn't seem to notice as she rakes a hand quickly through her hair because a nervous, almost agitated, energy is rolling off of him as he paces in the courtyard.
When he catches sight of her, he stops, a warm smile breaking across his face, though Y/N feels that it doesn't quite reach his eyes. But the new knowledge that Remus has a dimple on his left cheek and his smile is just slightly crooked is enough to disarm any wariness. Unexpectedly his nervous energy seems to dissipate immediately. "Hi," he says, "You came."
"I got your note," Y/N says, inwardly grimacing — of course he knew that already, he had been sitting next to her.
"Right, well, I, er—" Remus begins choppily, his hand rising to rub at the nape of his neck. "I was wondering about... Earlier, last week, when you saw me... Did you say anything to anyone?"
Y/N blinks at him once, then twice, blankly. "Earlier?" She questions, before the heat begins to rise to her face. He must have been referring to his confession. "I haven't said anything to anyone."
Remus's brows furrow for a moment before his face relaxes. He's surprisingly difficult to read — it feels as though any trickle of emotion is covered with a disarming soft smile. "I see," he says after a moment, his shoulders relaxing. "Right, well, Y/N," he begins, looking around them distractedly. "—shall we date?" Y/N straightens with a jolt as he continues. "I won't be offended if you say no. In fact, I'd understand if you said no, we've barely—"
She doesn't know what it is exactly. Maybe it was the curious thought that Remus might not be the charming prince he seemed to be. Maybe it was the dimple in his left cheek. Maybe it was the way he said her name. But something in Y/N slipped through her confusion and the unceremonious nature of the whole thing, because she finds herself speaking before she can stop herself. "Yeah. Let's date."
Remus's face goes slack. He looks a little startled, Y/N thinks, like she's clubbed him over the head. "Are you sure?" He blurts, eyes widening a fraction. It's perhaps the most emotion she's seen him show so far. Y/N writes it off as nerves and incredulity.
She nods once, firmly.
"I guess that's settled," he says weakly with furrowed brows, though he looked neither pleased nor displeased.
— — — — —
Initially, Y/N and Remus are as awkward as can be. She's not sure if it's because neither of them have really ever been in a relationship before, but it feels clumsy in the beginning.
Their dates start off mostly as study dates in the library, but Y/N doesn't mind — to her pleasure, she finds that they eerily work well together and she likes the calm peace of Remus's presence while she's studying. She likes to think that he also finds comfort in her presence because it's become ritual for him to ask her about the book she's reading, and vice versa. In a few weeks, they start reading the same books. Maybe it's because they spend so much time together studying that it becomes gradually more comfortable.
When they go to Hogsmeade for the first time together, Y/N finds that they end up walking around the village and chatting nearly until curfew. She tells him about what it's like growing up with three brothers — "It doesn't seem very different from the Marauders," Remus observes with a wry laugh — and he tells her stories of how despite moving around periodically during his child, his mother always found a little corner in the yard to start an herb garden.
He does all the things she'd imagine a boyfriend might — Remus is a gentleman, expectedly. He holds the door open for her, gives her his jumper when there was a draft in the library, walks her back to the Common Room at night.
But, unexpectedly, it isn't Remus's soft smiles or considerate aura that Y/N finds herself straining to see. But it was when he threw his head back and laughed himself breathless at James holding his wand on the wrong end that Y/N found it impossible to tear her eyes away from him. Or when he shot her a dour look the first time she teased him on his illegible chicken scratch. Or when Remus cursed like a sailor when he knocked his ink pot over onto his parchment because he was always so uncoordinated and graceless.
It was perhaps impossible not to fall in love with Remus Lupin. Though maybe she already knew this from the start when he first looked at her, and even more so the first time he said her name.
She liked the way he would groan and complain and grumble as he stretched out his lithe limbs in preparation of helping Peter with his essay that he had procrastinated on, even after she could see the exhaustion begin to pool under his pretty eyes. She liked that he could silence the boys with just one baleful look. She liked the way he fell asleep on his books when he thought no one was looking. She liked his dry remarks and his wolfish grin and his grumpy mood. She liked all the rough edges that Remus showed her when he would forget to put up a soft smile.
It was too easy to love Remus Lupin, though it seemed like he didn't know that himself.
It only takes four full moons for Y/N to understand what the Marauders meant whenever they quietly referred to Remus's furry little problem. In the first place, they weren't always discreet — it was easy for them to forget she was there when she was studying in the background. In the second place, Remus would apologetically cancel their studying plans around the same time each month, and he would disappear for a few days and come back exhausted with fresh scars. It wasn't difficult to put two and two together, really.
But while she understood why he didn't tell her, she couldn't help but give him a tighter hug when she realized.
"Something wrong, love?" He had asked, reaching up to caress the back of her hair as she squeezed his abdomen.
"No," she had mumbled into his shirt, breathing in his familiar scent. She could feel affection swell inside her so violently she felt a little dizzy as she gave him another squeeze. "Just wish I could always be hugging you."
"No one's stopping you," Remus had responded dryly. She smiled into his chest as he rested his chin on the crown of her head. "Certainly not me."
— — — — —
When Y/N tries to discreetly deliver a small care package of chocolate and books a few nights before the next full moon, she accidentally overhears Peter ask James when Remus was ending his fake relationship.
"I doubt it'll raise any suspicions now that no one's pestering him about not having a girlfriend," she hears Peter say.
James makes a noncommittal sort of noise. "You know how Remus is about these things. He's always on edge that someone will think he's the odd one out—"
She feels like the ground beneath her has stuttered and shifted into an open chasm as her mind whirls to make sense of their conversation. For a moment, she thinks she's wrong, but like it was with Remus's furry little problem, if she thinks back on the stranger moments of the past four months, it's not difficult to piece it together. She begins to feel a little ill.
How many times did he force himself to smile at her stories? How many times after walking her back to the Common Room at night did he sigh with relief when she left? How many times did he wait for other students to be around to hold her hand? All the heart-fluttering moments she had thought had been magical and wonderful and incredible with Remus had been entirely one-sided. How humiliating. She feels used and dirty and pathetic, but the worse thing is that she can't feel angry.
She doesn't know how long she stands paralyzed outside, just that it's difficult to breathe or think properly. All she can feel is a numbing ache in her chest, and the feeling tightens when she hears a familiar voice behind her.
"Hmm?" Remus hums, a smile breaking across his face. The dimple in his left cheek appears briefly. "What are you doing here, love?" When she doesn't respond, he steps closer to her and peers at her face carefully, his big, brown eyes soft. "What's wrong?" He asks, gently looping his arms around her waist. Y/N goes perfectly still under his touch. "I knew you'd be studying for the Ancient Runes exam all day, so got some cakes from the kitchen for—"
"Remus," she interrupts suddenly, her throat gone cottony and dry as she raises her gaze to finally look at him. It sends a sharp pang through her chest again. "Are we ever going to kiss?"
Bizarrely, scarlet splotches appear swiftly on the high points of Remus's cheek as his eyes widen a fraction. "Kiss," he repeats, sounding strangled as he stares at her wide-eyed, looking as though she had clubbed him over the head. "You want to kiss?" He asks after a moment, his voice hoarse as his eyes flicker down to her lips.
"Do you want to kiss me?" She asks quietly, watching his throat bob as he swallows thickly.
"I've wanted to since—" Remus says softly, a little nonsensically, his eyes darting back down to her lips. His pupils are blown wide and dark as he swallows, his throat bobbing. “Y/N,” he murmurs, and she can feel his breath brush against her nose. She tries to control the thumping in her chest as he slowly leans in and raises his hand to cup her face. Remus looks down at her with a sweet adoration she knows cannot be real. She's seen this sort of soft look from him countless times before and now she knows better than anyone that it's just another cover. Perhaps it was perfectly clear since the start, but she had let herself get swept away with naive hope. The start of nothing. She feels like a fool.
Remus's head ducks slightly as the space between them closes. Y/N goes perfectly still as she watches his other hand rise, his fingers trembling a little as they reach to curve around her jaw.
For a moment, she entertains the thought and wonders what would happen if she just closes her eyes. She could close her eyes, could lean in and feel his eyelashes brush her cheek, could let him kiss her senseless. It would be so easy. It scares her a little how much she wants that.
Before she can betray herself, Y/N closes her hand around his wrist. “You can stop now,” she says, her voice low and steadier than she felt.
Remus freezes, his dazed expression crumpling in confusion. She takes a steadying breath, swallowing back the bile in her throat as she schools her expression with difficulty. Y/N places his wrist back down away from her face and lets go as she continues, despite the dull ache in her chest. “I wanted to know how far you would go,” she continues quietly. “How far you thought I would be willing to go.”
“I don’t understand—” Remus begins, a myriad of stricken dismay, alarm, and something else flickering across his face. For a moment, she thinks it’s the residue of desire, but she quickly remembers how good of an actor Remus is, and doesn’t let herself entertain that thought that it’s anything else besides panic for being caught.
"I know you're just using me," Y/N says, her throat dry. Her voice, to her mortification, cracks and comes out as a croak. Any sense of anger deflates immediately and all she can feel is this crumbling sense of defeat. “I should have known that something was strange when you suddenly confessed. We had never even really talked before that. I mean, I thought that I was dreaming when you said you liked me—"
“No, it's because—”
"I know why you did it," she whispers. Remus freezes, the color draining from his face. "The worse part of all this is that I can't find it in myself to hate you for using me. But I had just thought that you didn’t think so little of me as to…” She doesn’t finish as she stares down at the space between them, swallowing thickly. She feels ill. The last sentence had come out before she realized it. So that was what it was — disappointment.
"Did you even know my name before James said it?" She asks with a bark of a forced laugh as she straightens, setting her shoulders now though she still has a difficult time looking directly at him.
Remus swallows thickly as he steps forward. His pause is enough of an answer. "Let me explain,” he begins quickly, his words tumbling out in a frantic mess. “Y/N, wait,” he starts, reaching out.
“Don’t touch me, Lupin,” she says dejectedly, stepping away from him. Remus flinches and freezes, his expression falling, but she can't bring herself to look at him in the eye anymore. Y/N stares at the worn patch of carpet by her shoe as she swallows thickly before turning to leave. "You can tell everyone that you broke up with me if it helps you."
— — — — —
a/n: thx for reading! pt. 2 here my masterlist here
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000marie198 · 6 months
Text
At the end of Httyd 1, Toothless was inside the house and sitting there like he'd been there for quite a while and had gotten used to the place so chances are he never left Hiccup's side post the battle with Red Death for the time his best friend had been comatose. Also the fact that Stoick fully entrusted Toothless with Hiccup's safety and wellbeing that he would leave the house without worry.
Point in case, Toothless probably only left the house for brief moments and the villagers haven't seen him much (and they're too apprehensive to quell their curiosity because that's a freakin' Night Fury in there guarding their unconscious heir), ergo they haven't gotten used to him yet. Accepted the dragons sure but as the series told, not in an instant and not 100 percent. They trust the dragon in there but it's still something to wrap their heads around.
Now, a random Berkian's perspective to Hiccup and Toothless' friendship and dynamic post Httyd 1 would be gold.
The bewilderment at how those two seem to communicate like they've been together their whole lives, the mini heart attacks when Hiccup snarks at the dragon they grew up fearing and Toothless snarls or roars back with teeth out and... rolls his eyes?? Oh... they're just bickering, the boy isn't about to die, calm down. The fucking jumpscares when those two show up like they just materialized from the shadows WTF aaand it was just Hiccup hiding from the chief. The befuddlement watching the boy and his dragon having a debate over which notebook to buy because Hiccup wants the one with better paper quality but Toothless wants the other because apparently it smells nice.
The villagers gradually get used to Toothless and how he integrated so perfectly into Hiccup's life but while the fear and confusion is gone, the awe at how connected those two are, how they understand each other better than anyone can possibly hope, never goes away-
"Hey, no- Toothless, give me back my notebook! I still need to- Hey! GET BACK HERE!"
A black form rushes through the square and towards the Great Hall, being chased by his angry best friend who was refusing to get lunch because he wanted to sketch down an idea for some invention.
...............
(Don't tag as a ship)
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yoursweetwife · 5 months
Text
Synopsis: chess game didn't end the way Ratio wanted it to, but he's definitely not complaining.
Warning: kisses, fluff, a little shy reader, self-confident Ratio, female reader
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"Do you want a rematch?"
Ratio looked up from his book and looked at you calmly, as if he was ready for this question. You were standing right in front of his desk, your face inches from his. Sometimes you forgot about your personal space (although who is he to talk about it?).
"That's right, this time I'm going to defeat you!"
You spoke excitedly and started giggling. Ratio couldn't deny that it was a pretty sight, but he needed to keep himself in check, thanks to his excellent self-control.
"So," a loud bang echoed through the huge office and the book ended up on the table. "I see mistakes don't teach you anything."
Ratio grinned and waved his hand. A chessboard appeared not far from the table.
"The rates are the same as before. Any wish of the winner."
You looked defiantly at the man in front of you. You may not be as good at chess as Ratio, but days and nights of training should do the trick. You've managed to take his strongest pieces before, so there's a chance that you'll win today, right?
"Mistakes help us achieve perfection, even you weren't always a chess master.
You said, sitting down on the chair in front of Veritas.
"Over the years of my life, I have honed my playing skills to perfection," he put one foot on the other, not breaking eye contact. "it's going to take a lot more than a few months of amateur play."
Did he just call your game amateur? Did he even know how much time you spent training? You smiled irritably, trying to remain calm, although, judging by Ratio’s teasing look, he saw your emotions perfectly.
"I'm starting."
Your hand moved towards the pawn. Veritas has been watching you closely.
"Yes, it's better that way."
It is unknown how long this game lasted. The students and almost all the teachers went home, but you two didn't care.
A drop of sweat trickled down Ratio's forehead, his hand lingered over one pawn, then another. He couldn't help but see your progress, that's what he likes about you, your tenacity and desire.
For the first time, he felt such a huge adrenaline rush from just playing with someone. He glanced at your tense face. Your gaze never left his hands, waiting for the long-awaited move.
After Ratio's move, you saw the gap he left for the King. Without giving your opponent time to think, you "ate" the King.
"Checkmate, Veritas."
Ratio's gaze did not leave the King's figure. His wide-open eyes expressed shock and bewilderment at defeat. Did you really just beat him?
"It can't be..."
You didn't pay attention to the man's confusion and continued to celebrate your little victory. Finally, you will be able to carry out your little plan.In an instant, the chessboard disappeared. You looked at Ration in disbelief. Veritas turned away, as if considering something.
"Veritas?"
You gently called his name, an action that is only allowed to you.There was a slight blush on his cheeks after you called him by his first name.
"Defeat is defeat, you can ask for anything you want."
You instantly perked up and smiled shyly. Your body ended up in front of a seated Ratio, who was intrigued by your strange behavior.
Your eyes met.
"Kiss me."
Ratio looked at you like you were an idiot.
"Kiss you?"
"Why are you asking again!"
Your face has turned incredibly red from embarrassment. You were sure you were ready for this!
"Idiot, how can you ask such a thing."
He closed his eyes, trying to put his thoughts in order. No matter how absurd it may sound, but Ratio had the idea of kissing you for a long time, but he did not know that today he would have to face his worst fear face to face.
"Compared to what you told me to do, a kiss is just a flower."
Veritas's heart was beating against his chest with great speed. He wanted to listen to his rational side, which says to stop it, but the soul wants to continue. This may be the only chance to get closer to you than standing next to you.He sighed and looked at you seriously.
"So be it, I will fulfill your wish."
A soft sigh escaped your lips when Ratio abruptly pulled you in. He really decided to kiss you! Your lips met each other. The feel of his soft lips on yours made you relax and put your arms around his neck. To your surprise, Veritas's arms wrapped around your waist, gently stroking it with his big hands. You behaved almost like a couple...
Veritas moved your face away from his. The scientist couldn't see himself, but he could tell with certainty that his face was a mess, just like yours. The sunset outside the window, heavy breathing, heartbeat in time and your red faces created an atmosphere of romance in which you wanted to stay. Just like your lips, painted with strawberry balm.
You smiled sheepishly because of the intense attention of the golden eyes. Still trying to put your thoughts in order, you moved away from Ratio (you couldn't help but notice how his hands were trying to hold you back). You weren't an expert in romance, but there's no denying that there's something between you and him.
"Ah, a simple kiss on the cheek would be enough..."
Ratio snorted and stared at you.
"Be glad you got it. If all your next wishes are the same, then I won't let you win anymore."
Lie.
You both understood that.A smile spread across your face.
"Then I'm waiting for the next game."
With that, you left the office, slamming the door. Ratio did not scold you because of the loud sound, left to himself, instead he continued to stare at one point and reflect on this situation.
Veritas could tell for sure that from now on, your relationship will be different. Not that he was against it.
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mechaknight-98 · 28 days
Text
Game Face (NSFW) FT Hyeju
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Author’s note: something different and kinda gross.
“Picture this: it's the final round of Core-A’s Tatsunoko VS Capcom blast from the past tournament and you are facing off against a new challenger whose gamer tag is Mothra. The set is tied between you and her. She's been wrecking your team of Frank West and Tekkaman so to throw her for a curveball you go Polymer and Morrigan. Hyeju is confused “No one plays Polymer,” she says perplexed at your choice
You respond with, “Well I do!” and trounce her in a flawless victory winning a Wii a copy of the game, and 4 “classic controllers””
“Yah Daizo why don't you go bother someone else,” Hyeju says to me as I recount the story to James, Haseul, Arin, Jinsoo, and Nagyung. I shrug and sit down
I smiled as I sat down next to Arin she nestled in close to my neck as I shot my gaze towards her and she looked up at me her bespeckled eyes gleaming leaving my head dazzled.
“Yah I don't know why you're so cocky you came in third,” Hyeju rolls her eyes as she declares,
I look at her with narrow eyes before re-establishing, “Yeah because I only lost to Bon-wa. I beat everyone else I played against, and I would have beat you.” you laugh as despite my boisterous and arrogant antics I often “walked the walk” I put in way more hours into the game then you did and lobbed way more characters than you but yeah you beat me because you are the better player but you wouldn't have beaten Hyeju if weren't for me because I taught you how to play polymer, and suggested Morrigan as a pocket team to mess with high tier play because you can't accurately predict his next move.
“Oh come on Bon-wa beat you in 3 with one flawless win.”
Knowing I was about to dismantle her entire playstyle and give accurate ways to demolish her you defended me, “Sorry Hye but Daizo would level you. I only beat him because I know how he approaches the game and his patterns,”
Hyeju laughed “Please, and like I couldn't we all play together every Thursday, and he always comes in under us,” you and I look at each other at this point and I decide to point out what we both know,
I raise an eyebrow before striking the killing blow, “Um, Hyeju what two characters are my mains in TVC?”
Hyeju shrugs, “Um Karas and Chun Li?”
I look to you and you break the news to your girlfriend,
“Hye he hates playing Chun Li and Karas. He only does it to you because I ask him to,”
Hyeju was flabbergasted “Why” she asked.
You know you have to break it to her carefully.“Well did you see his last match?”
Hyeju shook her head“No, all I heard from that was screaming while I got us lunch.”
You sigh and respond, “Babe he zero to deathed his opponent after reading their first assist correctly, and he only started playing Joe the Condor today.”
Hyeju looked at you then me confused as did the rest of the group.
“You just learned Joe today,” she inquired while being struck with bewilderment. I nod which causes James to ask me a very legitimate question.
“Wait why risk that at a paid tournament?”
I shrugged before answering with, “Because as soon as was in the same bracket side as Bon I was getting third place no matter what, so why not see how far I could push my limits?”
Hyeju looked at me with disgust, “How arrogant of you to think you can just waltz in a win a tournament on whim picks,”
I laughed and responded, “Hyeju we had to give you an advanced tech crash course when you told us you wanted to participate on a whim, despite only playing occasionally with us. I don't want to hear about me doing anything competition-wise on a whim. I am always competition-ready.” this made Hyeju go quiet. Arin bless her heart sensed the tension in my heart and grabbed my hand. Her touch as always was a soothing wave cooling off the plasmidic heat that I felt. It worked until Hyeju feeling her ego hurt said
“Okay, then Daizo if you're so great how about a friendly exhibition match?” I heard Arin’s sigh and knew that either I or Hyeju was going to revive a lecture later but honestly, she already blooded the water by doubting me and further pushed me with an official challenge. So when we got to y’all place I was nearly delirious with anticipation.
I beat Hyeju 25-1. We could have stopped at 13-0 but the part of me that y'all don't like demanded I beat her more. Thankfully before I could make Hyeju cry Arin and you stopped me.
“Okay, Disaster that's enough. You have proved your supremacy and I don't think Hye can take anymore,” Your sad tone reaches me and I come out of that dark place. Arin and I go back to our shared apartment leaving you to comfort the almost in-tears and shocked Hyeju on your shared couch. You cuddle next to your girlfriend who's a little grumpy that I beat her,
“I can't believe Daizo’s so mean,” she said with an adorable pout you smile and nestle closer.
“Come on babe you went after him and he responded. Be glad we stopped it before you went 1-29,” you say
Hyeju is just revving up though, “It's just…(you shut her up with an impassioned kiss) uh babe no fair.”
You roll deeper into your make-out session with your bombshell of a girlfriend. When you break it, her wolf-like eyes are full of lust. You smile as she lifts her shirt revealing her bountiful bust. You grope her tits as the two and make out
“Oh,” she moans as an errant hand of hers wanders down to your crotch. When she finds her prize you gasp.
“Fuck Hye warn a guy,” you say but Hyeju smiles before stroking you a little bit and falling into another kiss.
“But jagiya I'm so wet for you,” Hyeju says before lining up with your ride and sliding tortuously down your rod. You groaned at her unrelenting tightness. Her folds envelop you as Hyeju moans,
Hyenu smiles as she takes you in, “God I love your massive cock. I could ride it all day,” she says with a selfish smile. She pushes your chest down as she begins to ride you roughly, her folds tearing into your cock like the rabid predator(your words not mine) she was. She looks down at her favorite prey. You. She smiles and then begins her ritual whenever she's on top.
“You love my wolfy pussy don't you Jagiya? The way my flesh craves you. The way my pussy molds itself to your cock. How I ride you till you can't help but cum in my perfect pussy. Come on baby cum for me! I need it right now.” Hyeju’s sultry sex voice always does a number on you and in combination with her pussy when she calls you her “large lion” you cum instantly as she has trained your dick to do so. You moan as cum fills her walls and Hyeju smiles, but she isn't done though. She gets up off of you and her pussy spills your load back onto your crotch. You groan getting ready to get up until Hyeju lies in front of you and begins to use her chest to get another load out of you.
“Why waste all this perfectly good cum,” she says as she wraps her tits around your cock. You scream at the pleasure emanating from your union. Hyeju howls as she continues to rub her lubricated breasts around your cock. Her sensitive tits cause her to be near her release.
“Go on make a mess of me Lionheart. Cum all over my slutty face. paint me! Come on do it. Please cum,” Hyeju yells as she eggs on your orgasm hoping to get hers from being covered in your cum. To coax the biggest load possible she wraps her tongue around your cock as she gives you her messiest tit/blowjob. She slobbers all over your cock watching you squirm and write until
“Hye Im cumming,” you moan as you erupt over her face like a volcano. Your cum flies everywhere on her: her face tits hair lips you name it it's there. Hyeju smiles before standing up and fingering herself to get herself off having gotten her cum kink satisfaction. As your cum rolls down her body and she touches herself to the mess she's made of you and herself she squirts all over you. You lap up what you can and let lay down next to you. A messy (and wet) picture-perfect scene
“You good now babe,” you ask. Hyeju nods and languidly strokes your cock, not to get you off but just because like toying with you.
“I needed that,” she says before kissing you. Her cum drenched lips are oddly pleasant.
“Fuck Hye you put your game face on,” you tease and Hyeju rolls her eyes before you give her another unexpected load.
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Text
Tail
No sex but Seb busts a nut, I guess he could be considered submissive in this, The prefect gives zero fucks and does what they want. Nonhuman AU Sebek.
They/Them is used for reader but they are mentioned having breasts.
As the Prefect sat comfortably on the antique sofa, they listened intently to the crocodile fae seated beside them. Sebek's voice, usually booming with excited exclamations, had become more subdued, though his enthusiasm for his "Great Lord Malleus" was still evident in his impassioned rambling. They found his dulcet tones quite pleasant, even as their mind began to wander. To their next meal, possibly taking a hot bubble bath later- but then, something caught their eye - Sebek's scaly tail suddenly swung into view as he leaned forward to retrieve another list from the low table before them. Without a moment's hesitation, they reached out and grasped the appendage, startling the fae.
Sebek stammered out the Prefect's name, his voice cracking with obvious confusion as he straightened up and regarded them with an expression of bewilderment. Satisfied with their catch, the human managed to pull Sebek back down to sit beside them, the large fae squirming a bit as they examined the surface of his tail. 
“Human, what are you-!” They didn't catch the rest, more focused on the prize between thier hands and the thoughts pertaining to it. "It looks all rough but it’s all bumpy and leathery..." They murmured, gently sliding their fingertips over the cool, scaly skin. "I guess I thought it would be warmer." 
The coolness is surprising, but then again, crocodiles are cold-blooded.
Remembering the thing in thier hands is attached to another person they glance at Sebek to see his reaction,  speaking quite casually as they do. “Huh, that's more of a reaction than I expected. I kinda assumed you wouldn't be able to feel anything with the thick scales and all.” They return thier attention to his appendage again, seemingly not caring about the effect thier having on him as they continue their fondling.
Sebek's reaction was immediate - he stiffened from head to toe, his face and ears flushing a darker shade as the Prefect's casual touch elicited a visceral response. "Aah!" he cried out and tried his best to control his volume and composure. "Of course I can, It's a part of me." He managed, wetting his lips nervously as he dug his claws into his thighs, clearly struggling not to react further to the human’s ministrations.
“But…why are you-”
Undeterred, they continued to explore the bumpy surface of Sebek's tail, slowly running their hands along the length of the appendage, from the base to the pointed tip. Sebek's body shuddered and twisted, a muffled noise escaping him as he covered his mouth, his tail writhing in the Prefect's grasp. Unintentionally, the human's soft breast pressed against the sensitive underside of Sebek's tail, eliciting an audible moan from the fae. The human paused only momentarily, regarding Sebek with an unreadable expression before pressing their cheek against the thick tail, now noticing an earthy musk scent coming from the fae as they looked downward.
Sebek winced, struggling to cover the obvious bulge and wet spot in the front of his uniform pants with a nearby throw pillow, but it was too late - the Prefect had already seen the evidence of his arousal.
"So...I'm guessing this kind of thing feels good to you then?" They asked, their tone casual as if discussing the weather. Sebek's response was a whimpering struggle with his words, "No...well, erm...yes. Please forgive me, I can't..." But the Prefect was not deterred, and as they began to stroke Sebek's tail, the fae's resolve crumbled, squeezing his eyes shut louder moans escaping him as his erection fully emerged from its slit under his pants, thick and twitching as it strains against the fabric.
The Prefect continued their ministrations, humming in pleasure as they rubbed their cheek against the trapped portion of Sebek's tail. "It's so big, Seb..." They murmured, the musky scent only intensifying. Sebek's reaction was immediate, his fangs sinking into his bottom lip causing small drops of blood to drip. Curling into himself slightly Sebek groaned, his seed spilling forth through the fabric of his pants. But the Human did not relent, ignoring his pitiful whine they sped up their stroking until Sebek was left slack against the sofa, breathing hard.
"Well, that's interesting..." the Prefect mused, their expression blank as they looked from Sebek's soiled crotch to his flushed face. "Might be fun to see where else you're sensitive, actually..."
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nocturnest · 2 months
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The y/n that nervously asks if she can marry Jonathan instead of death or exile, would be the opposite of Jonathan, she’s shy and sweet, and Jonathan would find her puppy dog eyes to be so cute that he can’t help himself but to agree which is why he’s just like, “Hmm. Interesting. Why not”
@kpopgirlbtssvt This is one of my absolute favorites now! ahhh! please enjoy!
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In the dimly lit chamber of an abandoned courthouse, Jonathan Crane, Gotham's infamous Scarecrow, held court with an air of authority that sent shivers down the spines of those gathered before him. The room buzzed with nervous anticipation as citizens awaited their fates, their faces drawn with fear and uncertainty.
You, amidst the sea of anxious onlookers, found yourself unable to contain a nervous laugh as the tension in the room weighed heavily on you. You were on trial for attempting to steal from the city's food stash, which Bane had accumulated for criminals and the like. It wasn't exactly your fault - you were desperate. You just wish you hadn't been so foolish to have gotten caught.
As you were shoved into a brown leatherback chair, you observed your surroundings. Criminals of all kinds gave you harsh looks of disgust and disapproval. They looked practically ravenous and hungry for a new form of entertainment, which some of them had found in you. Their attention made you uncomfortable.
You gazed up at the stand and your eyes widened in surprise. You'd heard rumors, to be sure, but you had never seen Jonathan Crane in person. And even from afar, you could see the bright blues of his eyes, like a beacon of hope in this horrendous situation that you found yourself in.
He looked bored, glasses in his hand as he cleaned its lenses. A lackey of his taps him on the shoulder and Jonathan rolls his eyes, putting his glasses on to read the papers in front of him.
He clears his throat and announces your name, which sends shivers down your spine. His voice was gravelly and hoarse from yelling yet calming all the same. You find yourself wishing you had met him under other circumstances.
"Guilty of attempting to steal food from the people of Gotham. Now what will it be, Death or Exile?"
"Isn't there another option?! I mean...can't I just marry you instead?" you blurted out, the words escaping your lips before you could stop them. Your attempt at humor was feeble, a desperate bid to lighten the oppressive atmosphere.
To your surprise, Jonathan's sharp gaze snapped in your direction, his pale blue eyes glittering with intrigue. "Hmm, interesting. Why not?" he responded, his voice carrying an unexpected hint of amusement.
Your heart skipped a beat at his unexpected reply, your mind reeling with disbelief. Surely he couldn't be serious. But, before you could gather your thoughts, Jonathan pressed on with his characteristic bluntness. "Would you rather death or exile?" he inquired, his tone matter-of-fact yet oddly playful.
Caught off guard by his question, you stumbled over your words, unable to form a coherent response. "...No," you managed to mumble, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
"Great," Jonathan exclaimed, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes, "Exile! By marriage."
With a swift motion of his gavel, Jonathan sealed your fate. He beckoned you forward with a wave of his hand, his expression betraying a hint of sly amusement.
You padded across the room cautiously as a wave of confusion swept across the spectators, who watched in bewilderment as Jonathan Crane orchestrated an impromptu wedding ceremony in the midst of what was supposed to be a trial. As you approached the judge's area, the whispers of the onlookers swirled around you like a whirlwind of uncertainty.
Jonathan took your hand in his. It was soft and warm. The emotions in his face were guarded but you could see what seemed like sympathy in his eyes, as if he knew you knew how you were feeling - with being married to a complete stranger and all that.
Though, you weren't entirely complaining...Jonathan was much taller up close and practically towered over you. Not to mention, he was quite attractive. His eyes were as clear as ocean waters and his brown hair looked so soft that you fought the urge to run your hands through it. His suit was tattered and feathers were sewn into it, its cut tailored remarkably well to his figure.
As you stood beside Jonathan, his grip firm yet oddly comforting, he began to recite the vows with a surprising eloquence. His voice, smooth and commanding, filled the room as he spoke of love, commitment, and partnership. You found yourself mesmerized by his words, drawn into the enchanting rhythm of his speech.
As the ceremony continued, you couldn't help but marvel at the absurdity of the situation. Here you were, standing in a courtroom turned makeshift wedding chapel, about to marry a man you barely knew—all under the watchful eyes of a room full of criminals.
And yet, despite the unconventional circumstances, there was something undeniably captivating about Jonathan. His confidence, his intelligence, his sheer audacity—all combined to form an irresistible allure that left you spellbound.
As Jonathan pronounced you husband and wife, a sense of disbelief washed over you. You stole a glance at him, unable to suppress the awe flickering in your eyes. How could one man possess so many talents, wear so many hats? Psychologist, villain, minister, judge—each role seemed incongruous with the next, and yet, Jonathan Crane embodied them all with effortless grace.
As the ceremony concluded, Jonathan flashed you a grin that sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes sparkled with mischief as if he knew the effect he had on you. You gave him a shy smile in return.
Your brief moment of peace was interrupted by Bane, who had a foreboding presence about him. He was large, and the breathing mask that masked most of his face intimidated you.
Suprisingly, he seemed to be in good spirits, his deep voice booming, "Now is a time for celebration! Let the newlyweds have the day off and trials shall commence again tomorrow."
As Bane's booming voice echoed through the room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. With the trials postponed, you and Jonathan were free to escape the chaos of the courtroom and retreat to the sanctuary of his world.
Jonathan led you out of the courtroom, his hand warm against yours as he guided you through the labyrinthine corridors of the building. As you stepped out into the crisp night air, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of your mind. Bane's presence had cast a shadow over the proceedings, his intimidating figure a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows of Gotham.
But as you climbed into Jonathan's car and he started the engine, the tension began to melt away. The warmth of the car enveloped you, cocooning you in a sense of security as Jonathan navigated the familiar streets of the city.
As Jonathan drove you through the bustling streets of Gotham, you couldn't help but get lost in your thoughts. What now?
Jonathan's voice broke the silence, his tone gentle yet reassuring. "You're safe now," he said, his gaze flickering to meet yours briefly before returning to the road ahead. "I'll make sure of that."
You offered him a grateful smile, though the weight of the situation still hung heavy in the air between you. The thought of being married to Jonathan—albeit in name only—was both exhilarating and daunting. You couldn't deny the attraction you felt towards him, the magnetic pull that seemed to draw you closer with each passing moment.
As you arrived at Jonathan's surprisingly luxurious apartment, you couldn't help but be impressed by the opulence of his surroundings. The spacious living room was bathed in warm light, casting soft shadows across the elegant furnishings.
The warm glow of the lights bathed the room in a comforting ambiance, momentarily easing the tension that still lingered in the air.
Jonathan led you further into the apartment, his demeanor calm and collected as he gestured for you to take a seat on the plush sofa. As you settled in, he turned to face you, his expression thoughtful.
"Listen," Jonathan began, his voice gentle yet firm, "about what happened back there... The marriage isn't official unless I make it so. I don't have to, but only if you want me to."
You blinked, taken aback by his words. "But why would you even consider it?" you asked, confusion evident in your tone.
Jonathan's lips curled into a sly smile as he tilted his head, his gaze piercing yet playful. "Ah, now that's the question, isn't it?" he replied, his voice laced with intrigue. "Why were you so ready to marry me, hm?"
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as Jonathan's playful gaze seemed to penetrate straight through you. "I... I don't know," you stammered, feeling completely out of your depth. "I mean, it was just a joke... I didn't think you'd actually..."
Jonathan chuckled softly, his laughter echoing in the quiet apartment. "Perhaps it was more than just a joke," he mused, his tone teasing yet strangely sincere. "After all, why else would you propose marriage to a man you barely know?"
You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze, unable to meet his eyes. "I... I guess I was just caught up in the moment," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're... you're not like anyone I've ever met before. And when you looked at me in the court, I don't know, something just... clicked."
Jonathan's expression softened, a hint of warmth creeping into his eyes. "You find me intriguing, don't you?" he observed, his voice low and measured. "Admit it, there's something about me that draws you in."
You swallowed hard, unable to deny the truth of his words. "Yes," you whispered, your admission hanging in the air between you. "Yes, there is."
A knowing smile tugged at the corners of Jonathan's lips as he reached out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "Then perhaps this marriage isn't such a far-fetched idea after all," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the soft hum of the city outside. "But only if you want it to be real."
Jonathan's fingers lingered on your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. You could feel the weight of his gaze, as if he was searching your soul for answers.
Taking a deep breath, you mustered the courage to speak. "I don't know what I want," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I do know that being with you feels... different. Exciting, even."
A soft smile graced Jonathan's lips, his eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and something else, something deeper. "Then let's take it one step at a time," he suggested, his tone gentle yet reassuring.
You couldn't help but return his smile, feeling a sense of warmth spreading through you at his suggestion. "Dinner sounds wonderful" you replied, your voice tinged with anticipation.
~
Jonathan was methodical in the kitchen. You insisted on helping him, but he assured you he could manage. Rather, Jonathan urged you to explore his bookcases after hearing you mention that you enjoyed reading.
He directed you to the room that he considered his library. At which you muttered, "Of course, you have a library." He merely grinned at that. Even though you had just met the man, the room seemed so remarkably him.
The library was a reflection of Jonathan Crane's meticulous nature and intellectual depth. As you stepped into the room, your eyes were immediately drawn to the hundreds of books lining the shelves, meticulously organized by genre and subject matter. There were classics, modern literature, and an extensive collection of texts on psychology, each spine neatly aligned in perfect rows.
The air was imbued with the scent of aged paper and leather bindings, creating an atmosphere of quiet reverence. Soft light filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room and illuminating the countless volumes that filled the space.
You ran your fingers along the spines of the books, marveling at the wealth of knowledge contained within their pages. Your gaze lingered on a particular title, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, a classic novel that seemed to echo the complexities of the world you found yourself in. You had read it countless times before. You, like Raskolnikov, had found yourself on trial for criminal acts, except that stealing food and committing flat-out murder, like Raskolnikov had, weren't exactly comparable. Nevertheless, his story of redemption and overcoming guilt after such an act continually resonated with you.
You settled into a chair and found yourself whisked away into the novel. Lost in thought, you barely noticed Jonathan's presence until you felt his eyes on you. Turning, you found him leaning against the doorway, his expression unreadable yet open and somehow inviting. There was a quiet intensity in his gaze as he watched you.
You marked your page with a spare slip of paper you found in your pocket (rather than dog-earing the antique book like a heathen) and felt Jonathan's gaze upon you.
"Find anything interesting?" he asked, his voice quiet yet filled with genuine curiosity.
You turned to face him, holding up the copy of Crime and Punishment. "Just considering some light reading," you replied with a hint of amusement, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his presence.
Jonathan chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "An excellent choice," he remarked, stepping further into the room to join you. "Dostoevsky certainly had a way of delving into the depths of human nature."
You nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie in your shared appreciation for literature. "It's fascinating how universal and timeless his insights are," you mused, trailing your fingers along the rows of books.
Jonathan's gaze softened as he watched you, his expression thoughtful. "Indeed," he agreed, his voice tinged with a hint of what might have been nostalgia. "There's a certain comfort in knowing that some truths remain constant, no matter the passage of time."
He reaches his hand out, inviting you to join him for dinner. You place your hand in his. You and him discuss your lives and interests over dinner and it feels like you have always known each other.
~
It's late. You don't quite know what time it is, and all you do know is you can't sleep. Rain patters on the windows of what is now your room. You have a nice view and notice that the city is less lit than usual. It seems that most people have either fled or gone into hiding, if they haven't already been taken by Bane's men.
You can't help but feel unease. Maybe it's the whole situation, or being in the menacing presence of Bane, even if only for a short time. But you can't help thinking about your apartment or the friends you haven't seen in months. You wonder if the elderly neighbor of yours who you often check on and her cat are alright.
You pad through the room feeling chilly. You pull on the sleeves of your sweatshirt. Jonathan gave you some of his clothes in the meantime, or at least until you both can stop by your apartment for your things. You're thankful for him being so accommodating but have a small internal voice that tells you that you're intruding, that you're a burden to him.
As you approach Jonathan's room, you hesitate at the doorway, feeling a sense of guilt for even considering disturbing his sleep. But then you remember the kindness he's shown you, the way he's gone out of his way to make you feel safe and comfortable. With a soft sigh, you push open the door and step inside.
Jonathan stirs from his slumber as you enter, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. His hair is tousled and his eyes are like beacons in the night. There's a moment of silence as he takes in your presence, his gaze softening with understanding.
"Can't sleep?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nod, unable to find the words to express the turmoil swirling within you.
Without hesitation, Jonathan lifts the covers beside him, inviting you to join him. "Come," he says gently, his expression warm and inviting. "You're not intruding. I want you here."
You hesitate for a moment, your shyness holding you back. But the offer of comfort is too tempting to resist. With a grateful smile, you slide into bed beside him, feeling the warmth of his embrace enveloping you like a protective shield against the darkness outside.
As you nestle against him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulls you into a sense of peace you haven't felt in a long time. And as you drift off to sleep in his arms, you can't help but feel a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos that surrounds you.
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@kiss-me-cill-me hope you enjoy this take on the dark knight rises court scene!
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babydollmarauders · 6 months
Text
CHRISTMAS COOKIES — DAWSON MERCER
dawson mercer x fem!reader
12 DAYS OF KINKMAS
summary: in which baking christmas cookies with her boyfriend leads to y/n getting sticky
warnings: NSFW CONTENT, p in v (unprotected), nipple play, food play. (2.5k words)
notes: welcome to day 5 of the 12 days of kinkmas! i wrote this smut in…october! i tried something a bit different with this one, i hope y’all enjoy it!
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“i’m gonna start on the wet ingredients, you think you can handle the dry ones?” i survey the countertop as i speak, containers of flour, sugar, and the likes all spread across the marble counter.
“yeah, i can do that.” Dawson nods, seeming confident, and i press a quick kiss to his cheek before i retreat to the mixer on the other side of the counter.
“uh… what’s the dry ingredients?” my boyfriend questions, making me turn back to see him staring at the ingredients with bewilderment. “they all seem dry to me.”
his head snaps up at the sound of my giggle, pasting a confused smile on his face.
“okay, how about i make the cookie dough, and you make the icing?” i suggest, and his shoulders slump in relief, nodding his head.
“that, i can handle.” he grins, switching places with me so he’s by the standing mixer.
i can use the hand mixer for the wet ingredients of the cookies, but i’m not sure i trust Dawson to not make a mess of the icing with the hand mixer.
we work in tandem, a gentle flow of holiday music pouring out from the alexa in the living room as we do our jobs.
it’s mainly silent between us, both focused on our own tasks; the only words being those of asking each other to hand the other something.
i’m nearly done rolling out the dough when Dawson comes over, proudly grasping the mixing bowl of icing. his hands are covered in powdered sugar, a wide, prideful smile on his face.
“i’m done!” he states, setting the bowl on the counter beside me so i can see.
“it looks great! good job, babe!” i cheer, transferring the dough onto a cookie sheet before popping it in the fridge to chill.
i turn back to my boyfriend, who stands at the counter, playing with leftover flour that i had sprinkled down to keep the dough from sticking to the countertops.
he perks up as i walk back over to him, a wet washcloth grasped in my hands to clean up the mess. the ingredients already taken care of, due to my tidy tendency of putting them away as i work.
“now what?” he asks me, watching as i wipe off the counter.
“well, the dough has to chill for at least an hour.” i explain, “so we can do whatever you want.”
a spark ignites in his eyes, and i know i should’ve chosen my words more carefully.
“whatever i want?” he repeats, taking a step forward. the front of his body presses against mine, his head dipping down to capture my lips with his.
he tastes sweet and sugary, like the icing he just made. his hands snake around to rest on my butt, and when he pulls his lips from mine, he chuckles.
“what are you laughing about?” i raise a brow, and when he brings his hands up to show them to me, they’re still covered in powdered sugar and flour. “oh my god!”
a lighthearted gasp escapes my lips, twisting and contorting my body to try and see my ass. when i do, i find two white powdered handprints on my black leggings.
“oh, you asshole!” i huff, turning back to glare at him as he now washes his hands at the sink, but he just laughs, knowing i don’t mean it. “you did that on purpose!”
“so what if i did?” he teases, watching me try and swat the white powder from the fabric.
i roll my eyes when i see that it’s only spreading it rather than getting rid of it.
“now i’ve gotta wash these.” i push the leggings down my legs, stepping out of them and leaving me in Dawson’s oversized t-shirt.
crumpling the black pants up in my hands, i make my way to the laundry room, stuffing them in the washer to join the other clothes that have sat in there far too long, and add detergent before pressing start.
“you know, that was mean!” i call out as i walk back to the kitchen. “you know those were my last clean pair.”
Dawson is leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest and a lopsided smirk on his face.
“i’m sorry.” he feigns a pout, uncrossing his arms in order to let his hands grip my sides, pulling me flush against him. “i guess i’ll have to make it up to you.”
“and how do you plan on doing that?” my hands lay flat against his chest, my head craned to peer up at him. my tone is sultry and slow, and the way he looks down at me, with eyes full of lust, i think i know exactly what he has planned.
he spins us around, caging me against the counter, while his lips meet mine. the once sweet and soft kiss that we shared just moments ago is gone, replaced by one of passion and desire. his tongue flicks across my bottom lip, coercing me into opening them, his tongue slipping through to mingle with mine.
his now clean hands slide down my hips, gripping my ass harshly and pulling my hips against his. a throaty moan is pulled from me as i feel his quickly hardening erection against my core, grinding against him in a steady pace.
i’m abruptly swept off my feet, deposited onto the counter without our kiss ever breaking. my body shivers, my back arching at the cold marble against my heated skin. my legs wrap around his waist, using them to pull him even closer against me, if even possible.
“i need you.” i breathe against his lips, and he nods, tilting chin forward to kiss me again.
his hands begin playing with the hem of my t-shirt, slipping underneath. his hands drag up my torso, brushing along the underside of my breasts before he cups beneath them.
he pulls his lips away, our heavy breaths mingling. pulling off my top, he leaves me in nothing but my cotton panties. his eyes lock on my breasts, my nipples stiff and peaked against the cold December air that the open living room window brings in.
“close your eyes.” he whispers, his breath fanning across the side of my face as he leans forward.
i follow his command, squeezing my eyes shut. my heart races in wonder and confusion, especially when i hear a clatter and screech of metal against the counter.
i open my mouth, about to question his actions, when i’m cut off by something cold and thick spread across my nipples. my breath hitches in my throat, my eyes flying open to gauge his actions.
Dawson stands between my spread legs, his index finger covered in icing, and when i peek down at my chest, i find icing dripping down my breasts.
“oh.” my teeth sink into my bottom lip as i watch him smirk. his eyes lock with mine, staring back at me as he slowly descends to my chest, his tongue darting out.
he licks up my left breast, following the path of dripping icing until he reaches my nipple. my chest heaves as he reaches his desired destination, his lips closing around the stiff peaks, sucking it into his mouth. his tongue swirls around it, collecting the icing.
“oh.” my hand cups the back of his neck, gripping his hair to ground myself amongst the immense pleasure. shockwaves wrack my body, my back arching and my jaw going slack as my head tilts back, my eyes squeezing shut.
he pulls off with a pop, his fingers replacing his lips while he switches to my other breast. while one nipple is pinched and circled by his thumb, the other is licked and drawn into his mouth.
once he’s sucked all the icing off, his hand splays across my chest, pushing me down onto the counter. he dips his finger back into the icing, spreading a line up my torso before dipping in again and slathering it on my nipples once more.
he stares into my eyes, pressing his finger to my lips, and i part them, allowing the digit to push against my tongue. remaining eye contact, i close my lips around him, sucking and swirling my tongue around, licking his finger clean from the icing.
Dawson lets out a groan, his hips rolling against mine in the heat of the moment, prior to pulling his hand away.
he dips down again, pressing a kiss to my lower stomach before letting his tongue drag up my abdomen, licking up the icing. my body tenses as he does so, leaving behind a trail of sticky saliva in his wake. as he reaches my cleavage, he presses open mouthed kisses up my sternum before trailing off towards my left nipple. he licks around it, swirling his tongue and sucking.
my hand flies up to grip the edge of the countertop above my head, the other tangling in his fluffy dark blonde tresses. a cry of pleasure echoes throughout the kitchen, and it takes me a second to even realize it’s my sound.
he kisses his way across to my other breast, repeating the process as his fingers pinch and pull on the hardened peak that his lips just abandoned.
a knot forms in my stomach, tangling and twisting as he goes. my toes curl, my brows furrowing and my back arching as chin tilts up towards the ceiling. a strangled moan falls from my lips, my body convulsing slightly as my orgasm washes over me.
at my heavy breathing and high pitched whimpers, Dawson pulls away, a smirk on his lips as he looks down at me in my blissed state.
“did you just…?” he trails off, chuckling as i nod. “i didn’t know you could do that.”
“me neither.” i shudder, sitting up.
my skin feels tacky from the icing, but i push that thought to the side, cupping the nape of his neck with both hands. i pull him forward, crashing my lips against his.
“that was so fucking hot.” he mutters into the kiss, momentarily getting distracted when i begin to tug his shirt up.
“i want you to fuck me.”
at my words, he pulls away, his hands pulling his shirt over his head before he pulls me in for another kiss. his thumbs hook into the sides of my panties and i lean back on my hands, lifting my hips and allowing him to pull the cotton fabric down my legs.
the cold air hits against my slick heat, resulting in shivers across my body, making Dawson chuckle lowly.
“so pretty,” he compliments, lazily dragging the back of his knuckles down my stomach. “all naked for me.”
his fingers find my core, sliding through my cum. his eyes find mine, holding the contact as he brings his fingers up to his lips, sucking them clean.
i moan at the sight, tugging at his jeans. my fingers fumble with his button and his hands shoo mine away, quickly unbuttoning and unzipping, tugging his pants and boxers down his legs and stepping out.
his dick springs up, slapping against his abdomen, and my pussy clenches at the sight. his tip is red and swollen, a bead of pre-cum leaking out.
i reach forward, gently grasping the base, and giving it a light tug.
“don’t be a tease, baby.” he gruffs out, hands gripping my waist as he yanks me off the counter.
i let go in surprise and he spins me around, pushing me down and bending me over the counter. he wastes no time in running his cock through the wetness of my folds, groaning at the feeling. i can feel his dick prod at my entrance as he lines up, sliding in easily, and my breath catches as he fills me up.
“fuck, you’re so perfect.” he grunts, bottoming out inside of me. one of my hands splays flat on the counter, the other reaching down to my hip, clawing his hand away in order to hold it in mine.
“please move.” i whisper, barely audible over the christmas music that still drifts throughout the kitchen.
Dawson leans forward, swiping my hair to the side and over my shoulder. his bare chest presses against my back as he leaves wet kisses to the back of my neck, his hips snapping as he begins to thrust.
he brings our hands to the countertop, laying my palm flat with his resting on top of it, while his other hand snakes around the front of to gently rub my clit.
an outward gasp drops from my parted lips, pushing my hips back to meet him.
the more time passes, the harder his thrusts get, until my hips are hitting the edge of the counter with each stroke, surely getting bruised in the process.
“shit, i don’t know if i’m gonna last.” his voice is tight, words sounding as though spoken through clenched teeth, and i nod in agreement.
“i’m so close, Daws!” in contrast to the last time i spoke, i’m practically yelling now, my climax building with each stroke and each circular rub of my clit.
my legs feel close to giving out, my back arching to hit a new angle. his thrusts are turning sloppy, the rhythm leaving, and i feel his abs flex against my back, letting me know he’s close.
his finger speeds up, pushing me closer and closer until the edge, until finally the pleasure becomes too much. my legs begin to shake, my walls tightening around him, hitting my orgasm and spurring on his.
Dawson continues fucking me through our releases, fucking his cum deeper into me as he does so. once i’ve come down from my high, i reach back, pushing him away by the hip, and he stops, his heavy breaths mixing with mine as i spin around to face him.
he’s got a small smile as he pants, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me against his chest. i lay my head against him, listening to his heart pound, slowly but surely evening back out to its normal pace.
i mentally cringe at a realization. he’s supposed to bring these cookies tomorrow during morning skate before the game against the Flyers.
“well, i think we might have to make more icing.” i joke, gaining a laugh from my boyfriend.
“there’s still plenty!” he remarks, looking down at me with a mischievous grin.
“Dawson, that is so unsanitary! we can’t give the team christmas cookies made with icing that your hands were in!” he opens his mouth as though to argue with me but i cut him off before he can start. “your hands, which had touched my boobs!”
a look of possession dawns across his face and he nods, “you’re right, they’re not inadvertently tasting you.”
“oh gross, babe!” i chuckle, pulling away from him. my chest peels from his, still sticky from the icing, and i cringe.
“i need a shower.”
Dawson scoffs as i walk away, heading towards our bedroom, and i’m almost there when i look over my shoulder.
“you coming?” i call out. i can’t hold back my giggle when i hear his footsteps slapping against the tile and then hardwood, catching up with me.
he raises an eyebrow, pointing back towards our christmas tree in the living room as he speaks.
“if i ever say no to that question, i want you to choke me with that garland.”
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daytaker · 5 months
Note
Hello! I’ve viewed your blog a few times and i really really like the way that you write, so when I learned that asks were i couldn’t help but make a request. Can we get some headcaons of the brothers meeting MC’s family for the first time and already Mama MC doesn’t like any of them because “they took away her baby.” Sorry if this is a little cringe.
But of course!
(Part 2: The Dateables + Luke)
"Mom, Dad, meet seven of my boyfriends."
...is what you want to say, but you know better than to panic your parents and fluster your totally platonic demon friends at a time like this.
And what a time it is. Here you are, surrounded by your parents, an aunt, your grandpa, and your sister, trying to calm your mother down from yet another diatribe about how you can't just get up and leave for a year---I mean, God, the police were looking for you! The police! You realize we thought they'd find your body in the woods somewhere? How could you do this to us?!---when suddenly:
Knock, knock. Knock knock knock knock knock knock. Thud. Thud. Thud.
"MC! Hey MC!"
"Mammon, if they hear you, you'll ruin the surprise!"
You and your relatives stare at the door. Then they all look at you. You give an awkward smile.
"Just give me a minute... I think those are some friends of mine..."
You really wish you lived somewhere besides a one bedroom apartment, but honestly, impossible in this economy. So you don't have anywhere remotely private to tell the brothers to scatter until the dust clears. In fact, the instant you open the door, Asmodeus flings his arms around you and kisses you on the cheek---in full view of your family, mind you!---and Beel shoves a box of half-eaten chocolates into your hand. Then seven voices are all clamoring for your attention at once on one end, and another five behind you. There are thirteen individuals in this tiny apartment, you realize, and you don't even have enough seats for your family to all sit. Your sister's seated on the floor.
"Heyyyyy guys, now's....not a great time...." A smile is plastered to your face as you tip your head in the direction of your extremely concerned parents. "And...seriously? It hasn't been two weeks yet."
Mammon looks confused, then indignant. "What? ...Hey, what the hell? You're already makin' new friends?! We really that replaceable?!"
Lucifer, who stands in the back holding a balloon bouquet with a jarringly serious expression on his face, speaks up. "I believe those are MC's relatives, Mammon. It seems we came at an inopportune time after all."
"Relatives?!" Asmo and Mammon hurry on over to give them all a good look-over, the others curiously observing.
"You're MC's mom, aren't you! Oh, MC! I see where you get your cheekbones!" Asmo gushes as your mother stares at him like he's from another planet. Which he sort of is, in a sense.
"MC? Who are these people?" your grandpa asks with bewilderment and not a small amount of concern.
"They're, um..."
"They're hot." Your sister waves her fingers at the group, and you wish you had perma-died in that attic.
You need to explain yourself quickly. On the spot. You'd already told your family you'd had a bit of a quarter-life crisis and gone backpacking across the country for the year, working through the mental collapse that living in the 21st century inevitably caused, so you ride off of that. These are a ragtag bunch you met on the road, you explain. You'd spent the better part of last year roughing it from the hills of Kentucky to the forests of Washington with these guys, and you'd become incredibly close as a result. You'd lived together, laughed together, loved together, and some of them even tried to kill you on a few occasions.
("'Tried'?" mutters Satan, and Belphie gives him a death glare.)
Under the leadership of the charismatic eldest brother, Lucifer, you'd become so close that it felt as if your very souls were somehow tethered---
"I'm sorry, 'Lucifer'?" Your mom has had just about enough of this. She approaches you with a look of heartbreaking concern in her eyes and cups your face. "....Baby, did you join a cult?"
"Who does she think she is, callin' 'em that?" seethes Mammon under his breath.
"Mammon, she's my MOM."
"Alright, I think I've seen enough." Dad gets up and eyes the boys sternly. "I dunno what you've been doing with my child, but it's gonna stop, you understand? I've got a homicide detective on speed dial because of you clowns."
"Is this where they get their assertiveness from?" speculated Levi to Beel, who simply shrugged.
"Listen, I think you're all just...misunderstanding each other!" Son of Gardonus, where are you even supposed to start? You grab the nearest demon---
(Individual brothers are below the cut!)
Lucifer
"This is Lucifer."
He gives you a look that says 'you really are as stupid as I've sometimes feared'. Why didn't you come up with a fake name?
"That was a joke."
Good, things are still salvageable.
"Because following his instructions is a lot like being in Hell."
He hates you.
"If that's the devil, then call me a sinner," your aunt says, sipping her third glass of wine.
"His real name is Boris."
He hates you so much.
"Pretty well-dressed for a man who spent a year on the road," observes your Mom with undisguised distrust. "Let me guess: while you were out gathering food and panhandling to survive, he stayed indoors doing whatever the hell he felt like doing, and at the end of the day, you'd take everything you'd earned and hand it over to him, and he'd toss you some pittance in return."
"How does she know that?!" Mammon gasps.
You try explaining to your mom that there was no cult, but she hushes you remorselessly.
You beg Lucifer with your eyes not to kill your entire family please. It seems to work.
Mammon
"Mammon, these are my parents. Mom, Dad, this is Mammon. Mammon, say hello."
"Hello. Agh! Dammit! You're really gonna use that now?!"
Oops. Pact magic. It can be a little unpredictable at times. You ruffle his hair apologetically.
The two of you were pretty much inseparable over the last year, you explain. "Best buds, pretty much." He was the first of the group you got close with. Mammon seems extremely proud of this.
"Please tell me 'best bud' isn't a euphemism, MC." Your dad gives you a pleading look. "I don't know how many more surprises I can take today." You two seem far too affectionate and touchy-feely for his liking.
Your sister grins at him from her seat on the floor, which seems to embarrass and confuse him tremendously. He's refusing to look at her. Poor guy. The two of you do look a lot alike...
Levi
"This is Levi."
"Ah, that almost sounds like a normal name. Why Leh-vee, though? Why don't you pronounce it LEE-vie?
"It's short for Leviathan," he says before you can stop him.
Your sister starts cackling and Levi is very embarrassed and indignant but mostly confused.
"Is this like a cult thing?" your aunt asks. "Naming everyone after biblical demons?" She nods and raises her eyebrows, impressed, and lifts her glass in Lucifer's direction.
"And you've been out roughing it in the great outdoors?" your grandpa asks.
"Errrr..."
"Yes, he has."
"Hmm...." Grandpa stares at Levi without a word, and your sister cackles again, and Levi looks like he'll either start bawling or go full demon and kill everybody in a sort of panicked rage. You return him to his brothers.
Satan
"This is---"
"I'm Derek. Nice to meet you."
You side-eye Satan. Apparently he was not taking any risks of you straight up calling him 'Satan' in front of everyone.
Your sister and aunt both look disappointed by this name, which seems to please Satan a whole lot.
"So," your mom says, thinking this little introduction has gotten off to way too friendly a start, "you're another one of MC's... 'friends', are you?"
"Yep," you say, refusing to acknowledge that there was any innuendo to read into.
"How the hell did you get wrapped up in a cult, Derek?" your aunt asks incredulously. "You look like you came straight from a prep school... Or the Ivies, or something. Kid, let me tell you what." She points a finger at Satan without giving him an opportunity to respond. "Let me tell you, you're gonna kick yourself when you're old and ugly and you realize you wasted your time in a cult looking like you were headed to a game of polo."
"You should've given yourself a cool name like those other guys," your sister throws in.
"Guys, please."
"What? At least the other guys had character. Lucifer, the sexy vampire prince, or something. Mammon, the... Is he a himbo or a bad boy?" ("A himbo," you confirm.) "Mammon, the hellish himbo! Leviathan, a literal fish out of water! But him? This guy's just Derek from IT." Your sister blows a raspberry and gives a thumb down. "Next."
Behind you, you hear Lucifer mutter, "Mammon. Levi. Hold Satan back."
Asmo
"This is Asmo. Please don't tear him a new one, he's---"
Your sister shakes her head. "I would NEVER. This guy looks like so much fun. Like, I'm getting shopping all day, clubbing all night vibes, am I right?"
Asmo winks at your sister, and she blushes. She blushes. You're in awe.
"Hellooooo~! I'm Asmodeus, and it's wonderful to meet you all!"
"You're the one that kissed my grandchild," Grandpa recalls, raising an accusatory finger at him.
"But MC loves when I give them kisses! Surely you all understand, right?"
....
"Right..."
....
Motherfucker, Asmo just charmed your family.
Beel
"This is Beel. Beel, this is...everyone."
"Hi. Good to meet you." Beel is very polite, if a bit uncomfortable.
"Well aren't you a drink of water and a half." You hate your aunt so much sometimes.
Beel frowns. "I'd rather have something a little more filling than water."
You see a look in your aunt's eyes and you jump before she has the chance to strike.
"If you say you're on the menu, Aunt Gina, I swear--"
"What's 'Beel' short for?" your mom asks sternly.
"Beelzebub," Beel answers with an adorable but also infuriating level of innocence.
Your sister is cackling again.
Belphie
Hey, where'd Belphie go?
You look around, confused.
Oh. He wandered to your room while everyone was distracted.
He's sleeping on your bed, hugging your pillow. And drooling on it.
Your relatives stand behind you, observing the scene somberly.
"What's he on?" asks your sister in a whisper. "Like... he's definitely on something, right?"
"Freeloader. That goes for the whole lot of 'em. At least this one is honest about it. Just walks in and treats the place like it's his." Your dad is very annoyed.
"He's got narcolepsy," you insist. You don't know enough about narcolepsy to be sure if that seems like a reasonable excuse, but you're counting on your family not knowing either.
"How the hell did you all get around with a narcoleptic?" your aunt asks, elbowing Lucifer in the ribs. "Hah! Oh, MC, sweetie, I need a refill."
When you manage to get the brothers out of your apartment, you turn around and face your family. They're staring at you.
Your sister breaks the silence. "So like... how many of them have you--?"
331 notes · View notes
enbysanavi · 5 months
Text
RE:V lords and Mother Miranda with a ghoul reader
Alcina Dimitrescu
There was always something off about you.
You never seemed to tire after long hours of work at her castle, you never shied away from cleaning duty in the dungeon like the others and most importantly you seemed to never bleed.
As a vampire that was one of the first things she noticed about you but never thought to bring it up.
She noticed your lack of heartbeat and lack of smell that usually came with the maids.
Normally she would just leave it alone because you did your job well and did tasks that nobody else wanted to do.
One night when everything was winding down for the evening, she heard the sound of a window breaking.
Usually she would summon her daughters to deal with the intruder but due to it being a colder winter she opted to do it herself.
When she got down to the kitchen she was surprised to see that the intruder’s chest had caved in and his cheeks were sunken. It was like all the air was sucked out of him and he was left as a husk.
She was even more surprised to see you there with an expression similar to a child who got caught stealing cookies.
You had small almost see through horns poking out from your hair. Your skin had turned to a pale grey and you had claws.
“Well, this is a surprise turn of events but not an unexpected one.”
You two had a long chat about what exactly you were.
You explained that you were an air ghoul and escaped from hell to enjoy life on the mortal side of the earth.
She asked if you were happy with serving her and you said yes. After all you got fed human food, were surrounded by humans and got to be in the presence of other unearthly creatures.
You also said that you sucked the air from the intruder because he scared you when you were trying to get a midnight snack.
She sighs and realised that you may be just as much of a handful as her daughters
Karl Heisenberg
Heisenberg smelled smoke when he entered the factory. It wasn’t an uncommon smell but he smelled it more that usual.
When he found you sitting with some of his creations with your arm on fire and marshmallows dangling above the flame he does a double take.
“What. The. Fuck???”
He is so confused.
From what he knew you were just a normal human and yet you were roasting marshmallows off of a flame that covered your entire arm.
You wave at him before tossing a roasted marshmallow at his head.
He catches it and eats it
He shoes away his creations before sitting on a crate in front of you with a bewildered expression.
He asks for an explanation and you tell him your a fire ghoul but just wanna chill up on earth for a bit.
Bewilderment is replaced with excitement.
You bet he wants to figure out a way to combine his powers and yours for an ultimate power up.
Heisenberg is a man of many talents and one of those talents is causing mayhem against Mother Miranda.
“Just think: flaming metal! It would be great!”
You go along with it because of course! This man wants to cause chaos and what else are you supposed to do up on the surface?
Donna Beneviento
Angie had finally convinced Donna to hire a new gardener.
After the last gardener died she was hesitant to allow anyone else close to her again but the plants were growing too much and she could barely keep up.
You had been on the earth for a few months now and decided that staying close to your element would be the best plan so seeing that add for a gardener was a blessing.
When you first met Donna and Angie you were taken to their uniqueness and enjoyed working for the two.
Angie was seen around you more than Donna but that didn’t mean you couldn’t sense her.
She walked on the very ground that you started to tame and once the earth around her mansion was yours, nobody could sneak up on you.
Donna truely figured out something was different about you when you purposely stepped out of Donna’s way when she was supposed to be invisible to your eyes.
Donna kept a closer eye on you through her dolls. Often gifting you one in return for your hard work.
Through the eyes of her dolls was when she first saw you.
Your green skin and brown ram-like horns that curled around your face. The way that the ground moulded and changed to your will was terrifying and interesting to Donna.
She hesitantly started to show herself to your non-green and horned form whenever you would tend to the garden in front of her house.
The conversations would be pretty one sided but as time went on Donna spoke more and more to you, eventually asking about the green skin and horns.
You confess that you’re not human and in fact an earth ghoul that just wanted to become more in touch with your element.
Donna couldn’t help but feel better that your reasoning was so pure.
She offered for you to stay in your natural form if it was more comfortable for you and reassured you than nobody would see you like that if you didn’t want them to.
You felt comforted by Donna’s presence and openness about your natural appearance and you only hopped she felt the same when she showed you her scar.
Angie loved to sit on your shoulders and hold onto your horns, always saying how she could ride the mighty ram into battle.
Salvatore Moreau
It starts small when he notices that someone else is in his waters.
He and his fish are usually the only thing that swim in the village since the villagers are too scared to.
When he spots blue skin in murky green water he gets excited at the idea of a new friend.
Spotting the blue skinned creature was easier than catching you because you were much smaller than he was.
You didn’t have a tail like he did but you could see much clearly under water and evade his capture.
It wasn’t like he wanted to hurt you, he just wanted to meet you and meet someone else who has an affinity for water.
Slowly but surely he was able to coax you out of your hiding spot and onto the shore. He was curious on how someone that looked human could crept for the blue skin and small silver horns, found it’s way into his territory.
You explained that you wanted to see the ocean but only got this far and that you were at water ghoul.
He excitedly told you that there were other lakes around the village that he could take you to.
When you confessed that you only liked his lake because there weren��t any people except for him and his fish he tried to make the water as enjoyable as possible for you.
Mother Miranda
Since you first came to the village she knew you weren’t human. You looked human and ate human food but there was just a strange aura around you.
You weren’t disturbing any of her plans or experiments so she left you alone for the time being.
When you sat on top of her chapel just to get a better look at the stars, she confronted you.
She landed beside you and asked not so calmly why you were on her chapel.
You explained that you leaned no harm and just wanted to see the stars better. After all the village didn’t have the best views.
You were much more calm than anyone else.
Mother Miranda just sighed and offered to show you better spots to see the stars that weren’t on her roof.
She showed you a few places and even varied you to the top of Lady Dimitrescu’s castle because what could Alcina do? It wasn’t like she was going to say no to Miranda.
It became a little tradition for Miranda to meet you at night and watch the night sky with you.
When you confessed to being not human she said she already knew but didn’t know what you were.
You said you were a quintessence ghoul and simply wanted to see the sky.
She was impressed to see a ghoul out in the real world and asked if you could help her with her experiments.
Since you had a lot of free time in the day you agreed.
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 10 months
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hi! can i request ken x (male) reader who’s from texas and breaking ken’s idea of the patriarchy (mostly the realities of cowboy life lol) thank you!!
"Now what're you supposed to be, a cowboy or somethin'? Because it looks like you're goin' to a fashion show upstate."
Blinking owlishly, Ken spun around on his heels, coming face-to-face with you. He looked at your clothing up and down, noting you had a hat similar to his, along with ripped jeans, cowboy boots, and a buttoned plaid shirt.
His eyebrows furrowed with confusion, not seeing an apparent difference.
Nevertheless, he realized you were another human male who was trying to talk to him, and he was excited! This was his big chance to learn more about the patriarchy of the Real World!
But he didn't wanna let his eagerness show too much, so he leaned against a nearby pillar, keeping the books tucked against his side.
"Nah, I ain't goin' to no fashion show....partner..." He made a poor attempt at mimicking your accent, which he noted was heavily Southern, and it took all your willpower not to laugh your ass off.
Yet you couldn't help chuckling anyways, which made the blond pout as he adjusted the brim of his hat. "Awh I'm only teasin'." You shook your head. "I will say it does fit ya pretty good. Haven't seen anything like that back in Texas."
"...oh really? Thanks!" He put a big smile back on, trying to sound cool and casual. "Sounds like a fun place. I'm just here..seeing what this world's all about...getting accustomed to the patriarchy. Man, I wish Barbie told me about-"
"Hold on..." You stopped him in his tracks, being perplexed by several things he just said. "What about the patriarchy? You act as though it's a lifestyle-"
"Is it not? Because I see it all around us!" He spread his arms out. "It's incredible! Everything's backwards but yet...I'm just amazed! This world caters to us men!" Then he stepped closer, showing you the books in his hands depicting studies of horses and patriarchy, a sparkle in his eye. "Look, these books have already taught me so much!"
You blinked, taking one of them and frowning as you recognized the barcode as being from the school your cousin attended. "Ya realize you stole these from a school library, right-?"
"Back in Barbieland, we Kens had none of this stuff!!" He ignored your remark, yanking the book from your hands as he continued to babble on and on and how "awesome" the patriarchy is while pointing to a nearby horse statue.
He's acting as though this was the first time he's ever heard of it, firmly believing that it's all about men and horses.
That would've convinced you that this guy was either insane or living under a rock all his life....had he not mentioned "Barbieland", "Barbie", and "Ken".
'As in...the dolls my little cousins played with?' You pondered. 'Well it would certainly explain the outlandish outfit..and how it doesn't look like any lights are on upstairs...'
"So.." You cleared your throat, he was quick to shut up and let you continue, blinking as you offered your hand. "Before I forget...the name's [y/n]. A pleasure to meet ya."
He studied your gesture intensely, before putting forth his manliest handshake possible, his eyes lighting up when you laughed and complimented his strong grip. "And I'm Ken, the pleasure's all mine."
"Yeah, I figured."
"Well, [y/n]. You seem to embody everything a human man is, so...you got any advice for a fellow man who only just recently learned of all these great luxuries?" He raised an eyebrow.
You thought about it for a few moments, letting his hand go as your gaze went back to the books tucked under his arm. "Yeah, uh..for one, ya seem to be holdin' onto this "idea" that patriarchy's all about the horses. I hate to break it to ya....but it ain't that simple."
"....wait, it's not..?" He blinked in bewilderment, looking to the books and frowning. "Are you sure? Because these books told me-"
"They're outdated an' used for history projects at school. They don't accurately showcase modern cowboy culture, which is what ya seem to be enthralled with."
"...these don't???" His voice became higher-pitched, becoming utterly devastated that he was lied to. "But if it's not about horses..then...then what about the statues, hm? And those officers riding them?!"
"Ken..in this world anybody can ride a horse if they wanted to. You just happen to see more guys than gals doin' it."
"Oh..."
"Look, it's true that more men are in charge of stuff here in LA, but the patriarchy is really just a messy system that harms both sides." You frowned slightly. "It ain't somethin' I'd wanna idolize."
"...but why?"
You sighed, unsure of how you could possibly dumb it down for him even further. "'cuz it's turned some of my own friends and family into vile dirtbags who think the world owes them everything. I'd hate to see ya fall down that same pipeline."
He nodded in slight understanding, but seemed rather sad as he hugged the books to his chest, feeling like his dreams were shattered just as he began to realize them..
"I thought it was just like Barbieland..."
"Ya'll got a matriarchy there?"
"...I guess..? They write all the constitutions and stuff."
"And...how do they treat ya?"
"Like we're accessories." Ken huffed, eyebrows knitted together in frustration. "They aren't terrible, but...I only have a good day when Barbie looks at me..which...hasn't been happening lately. I was thinking if I could show her the cool horses and stuff...she'll see me differently. See me for the man I can be."
You never expected for this conversation to derail into you trying to resolve a doll's identity crisis, but it's clear he was holding onto the misconception that the "Real World" was just opposite of Barbieland--where men had it all here and ruled without flaw.
That was far from the truth.
"Now changin' yourself for a lady isn't what ya wanna do, son." You patted his shoulder, causing him to look up at you in astonishment. "You're good enough as you are. But I take it that deep down...ya just care about the horses?"
He nodded again.
"Then..how about instead of reading this misleading garbage--" You tapped the binder of one of the books "--ya talk to someone who's lived the authentic cowboy life? Somebody with experience?"
Looking all around, he seemed confused for a moment, before his gaze returned to yours. "Like....you?"
"Yup."
"Isn't being a man and wearing this not enough?"
"It's a wee bit more complicated than that. It's hard work. But if you're interested in that sort of life, I can tell ya all about it." You offered, smiling as you watched the grin return to his face.
"I'd love that. Now if I don't need these stupid books, then I'll just--" He went to toss the stack into the nearest trash bin, but you were quick to intervene.
"Hey, hey, hey! Ya can't just throw away school property like that!"
"...but you just called this "garbage"."
"It's a figure of speech, Ken." Sighing, you just shook your head, taking the books off his hands. "You'll learn a lot about that here. Let's just go return these and I'll tell ya all about my life back in Texas. Whatever ya wanna know, I'll do my best to answer."
Ken's eyes shimmered at the prospect of hanging out with another guy..like all the other humans he's seen. That's all he truly wanted, really--just to bond with someone and not be in some aggressive rivalry unlike what he had with the other Kens.
He's lucky he ran into you.
"Can I ask something now?"
"Sure..if it's less than ten words." You humored him.
"Do..you..own..horses..? That's four." He grinned, counting on his fingers just to be sure of it.
"I do. Poor things couldn't take the dry heat of Texas, so they came along with me in a truck. I'll show ya pictures after we return these books."
Ken nodded eagerly, unable to hide his excitement as he followed you back to the library, ready to learn more about your culture.
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