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moris-auri · 8 months

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Lend themselves to your sweet eyes of gold

Warning: NSFW 18+ for smut. Teasing, p in v, oral sex (female receiving), mature, (she/her)

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x unnamed

Word count: 2k

A/N: Enjoy!

The melancholy strains of a lute drifted his way as he entered, haunting and beautiful and familiar. His shoulders slumping almost immediately after the door latched behind him. He dragged his fingers through his hair irritably, sending the already messy strands further askew.

Crossing the room in several strides, he reached for the jug, pouring wine into a gilded golden cup, lifting it to his mouth, the familiar sourness sitting heavily on the back of his tongue. The room had grown cold in his absence, the only source of light in the otherwise dark room coming from the sunlight that streamed past the curtains.

“Your brother was here earlier. The Queen too.''

The words came from behind him, spoken so quietly that he almost didn’t hear her speak. It was one of the things that drew him to her, her preference for the quiet peace of his chambers when she was not playing in the main hall or in another room.

Caught off guard, he turned, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth, “What did they want?” he croaked, wincing as the wine burned a path down his throat as it settled in his stomach.

He knew what they wanted. What they always wanted, day after day after day; a never ending cycle of disappointment and reddened, still stinging skin.

“They didn’t say, though I assume they were searching for you," she murmured, lifting one shoulder in a delicate half shrug, head lowered as she continued to pick determinedly at the strings.

Her gown, some nearly sheer thing from Volantis or Tyrosh or Lys, he didn't know or care really, pretty as it was, hung loosely from her shoulders as she sat with her legs folded underneath her, the thin fabric a rich shade of blue. Further adornments decorated her limbs, little trinkets he had brought her decorated her wrists and her fingers. Rings of silver and gold embedded with emeralds and rubies and pearls, costly enough that she had protested, all but demanding he give them to Helaena.

He’d refused of course, knowing his sister-wife had no true interest in anything past the insects she had carefully pinned in her box. A plate of delicacies, the same one he'd left her with earlier, laden with pomegranates and other rich fruits and pastries, sat on the bed by her hip, more half eaten than it had been when he’d left her, steadily picked at over the course of the morning.

His answering smile was a rueful one that did not quite reach his eyes, his gaze lingering for a second longer before he grumbled under his breath, wrinkling his nose as the stench of the city wafted in on the breeze.

The weight of his beloved eldest sister's arrival hung sourly over everyone’s heads, his uncle and her children coming with her to see his nephew reaffirmed as the Sea Snake’s heir. A part of him viciously hoped it was two days, or even three. That her ship hit some delay, loathing the thought of having to leave his chambers, where no one looked at her like she was the dirt beneath their boots, someone cursed to remain nameless, doomed to be forgotten in the pages of history.

Where no one looked at him.

Not his mother, with despair in her eyes, not Aemond, who gritted his teeth and looked down at him every chance he could, cursed as the second son to want everything that came to him so effortlessly.

He wasn’t blind, using the fact that they chose to overlook him to his advantage. As covetous as Aemond was, he was still his brother, and that familial loyalty and shared blood mattered far more than any trivial crown. Or so he hoped.

Downing the last of the wine, he kicked off his boots and the near stifling layers of his clothing before he laid on his back beside her, curling one hand around her knee as his head rested against her thigh. He knew she didn’t mind it; his constant seeking of her when they were alone, craving the calm that she seemed to exude effortlessly like it was air.

“Will you sing for me, my little songbird?” he murmured, eyes glinting with mischief as he tilted his head back to look up at her, twirling a lock of her hair around the tip of his finger.

“Anything for you,” she promised, casting a delighted smile his way, eyes bright with affection as she looked down at him.

The sight of it, given so freely and without anything expected in return still made his breath lurch in his chest, the taste of blood blossoming in his mouth as the sharp edge of his tooth nicked the inside of his cheek.

She shifted backwards, wrapping her fingers around the neck of the lute and settling the pear shaped instrument against her chest, the quietness of the chamber filled with sound once again. He watched, an insurmountable fondness growing as her eyes closed, her pale lashes fluttering against her cheeks.

Her thin fingers plucked at the instrument’s strings with a reverence he knew all too well, the lilting sweet tones of her voice heavensent as her voice echoed over his chamber. He leaned further back against the loosely scattered pillows, the faint sunlight glinting off the rings on his fingers.

"Do you love me?"

Her eyes widened, her instrument forgotten in a second as she scrambled onto his lap. His eyes closed at the feel of her hands on his cheeks and the tender softness of the kisses she pressed to the curve of his cheekbones, her quiet murmured words soft in his ear.

He exhaled, fingers tangling in her hair as he sighed, a deep rasping sound from deep in his chest as her head lolled against his. He swore, time and time again, that he would never tire of it. Of her; the haven of her arms.

Of this.

The intensity of his gaze sharpened, his hand tangling itself in the fabric of her gown, pushing it up past her waist, savoring the growing desperation in her eyes. He trailed the tips of his fingers over her shoulder and down her arm as he listened to her play, watching with rapture as she shivered, not stopping despite the gooseflesh that rose on her skin.

She shuddered, fingers faltering on the strings, her chest rising and falling with each breath. Her quiet noises spurred him on, his eyes darkening as the violet was swallowed by black. Desire swelled within him, as dark as a stormcloud and as thick as smoke, choking and stealing the breath from his lungs.

“Keep playing,” he rasped, sliding closer, moving his fingers higher and higher before tangling them loosely in her hair, freeing the strands so they tumbled over her shoulders.

She hummed, a slow, lazy sound that belied her content as her head tilted to the side, lips parting. Her eyes opened again, half-lidded and intoxicated, a shade of gold not unlike Sunfyre’s scales.

"There's my love," he rasped, dragging his nose down the curve of her jaw, lips tightening at the breathy sound she let out.

Like a man starved, he curled a hand around her jaw, leaning in to kiss her again, one arm twining around the curve of her waist as he pulled her against him, reveling in the way she sank into his touch.

"Look at you," he murmured, ducking his head to press kisses along her throat. He dipped his hand, pressing the pads of his fingers to her bud, watching her arch above him, “I’ve barely touched you, little songbird,” his lips parted, groaning as he swiped his fingers through the slick that had gathered between her legs, “Is this all for me?” he panted, trailing a path of openmouthed kisses over her shoulder, hissing as he felt her fingers twist in his hair, yanking on the short silver gold strands.

“Yours,” she gasped out, her breath coming out shaky and tremulous.

She dug her fingers into the linens, gripping them tightly as her back lifted up, arching like a cat.

"Do you wish for me to stop?” he asked in-between the kisses he pressed against the column of her throat.

She shook her head quickly, curling her body tighter around his, her instrument forgotten once again, “Please-”

“Listen to you,” he rasped, “Begging for me so prettily,” he added a second finger and she mewled, not bothering to make any further attempt to be quiet.

He squeezed his eyes shut, groaning at the feeling of her clenching around his fingers, stars bursting and erupting behind his eyelids.

“My instrument-” she protested breathlessly as the sound of the wooden instrument clattering over the side of the bed and onto the floor sounded over the sounds of her pleasure.

“I’ll purchase you a new one,” he promised absentmindedly, a sheen of sweat covering his skin, the heat between them nearly boiling in its intensity, a gratuitous result of the steadily rising sun, “I swear it,” he said as her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him back to her mouth, “I’ll purchase anything you desire,” he mumbled as she let out another cry.

His head lowered, the warmth of his breath fanning over her skin as he moved down to settle between her thighs, the shorn, uneven ends of his hair brushing over her stomach like a bird’s feather.

He felt her legs trembling as she writhed under him as he buried his face between her legs, the lewd sounds of his mouth on her echoing loudly in the same breath as the other noises she made.

Her moans were an entirely different form of music, clear and sharp and sweet like the bells that had rang in the city after the births of Jaehaera and Jaehaerys and Maelor. He lifted his head, pressing a kiss to her hip. His eyes met hers, gold on violet as he rested his chin on her stomach, one arm curving around her waist, content to just watch her.

He rolled onto his back, hands finding home on her hips.

“You’re not playing fair,” she grumbled breathlessly, groaning in tandem with him as she sank onto him.

He huffed out a laugh at that, only for it to fade as he grimaced, pain flaring in his shoulders where her fingers dug into his flesh, the sharp edges of her nails sure to leave marks later. He tugged her hands away to kiss her palms as emotion after emotion raced through him, one after the other like a serpent swallowing their own tail.

“When have I ever done that?” he said lowly, one corner of his mouth curving upwards.

Her head fell back as she twisted her hips, hands braced on his chest, fingers hovering inches from his collarbones. The intoxication that had been in her eyes before is still there, echoed just as potently in his own now.

“The day grows late,” she commented after her breathing had steadied and quietness swept over the chamber once more, her gaze focused on the windowpane as she curled around him, watching the sun rise higher and higher, resting her head on his shoulder as she traced shapeless patterns against his skin with the tips of her fingers lightly, “Perhaps I should go-”

He clucked his tongue, pulling her flush against him, “There is nowhere else you should be but here,” he murmured, a pleasant drowsy tiredness settling over him like ice over a river, the fear that she would leave hovering faintly in the back of his mind as it always did.

Her sighs echoed softly in his ears as she reached for his hand, lacing her fingers with his as she traced over the lines etched deep into the flesh of his palm.

It was the moments like this, tucked away with her flush against him, his nose buried in her hair, hidden away from the leeches and the vipers of the court, that were a balm, soothing in a way he did not know quite what to name, but craved it all the same the calm that settled over him as she nestled further into his arms, his restlessness fading slowly like ripples on the surface of a lake.

He dreamed sometimes of fleeing in the dead of night with her, going somewhere, anywhere, where no one would ever find them. To Lys or Meereen or even further. But those were but the stuff of dreams; childish and unattainable.

She was his, and he would bathe the realm in dragonfire before he ever let her go.

#my fics #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon smut #aegon targaryen #hotd fics

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sapphires-and-silver-linings · 1 year

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Half-Life | Chapter One

Leon was alone.

Pairing: Plaga!Leon S. Kennedy/F!Chubby!Paranormal Investigator!Reader

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Body Horror, Suicidal Thoughts

Notes: This fic came to me in a fugue state after pulling an all-nighter. I was just really thinking about the potential for Plaga!Leon angst and what it would be like for him to live as one of the monsters he used to put down. I also think it's dismal how little Leon/Chubby!Reader content there is right now, so I made it myself. I'm not sure if I want to leave this as a one-shot or make it a short chapter fic, so let me know what you guys think!

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Leon succumbed to the parasite.

He managed to defeat Saddler and his monstrous puppets, being able to somewhat retain his mental state without a master to control him.

He got Ashley to safety, but he told her he was staying behind, knowing what might happen if the government got its hands on him. He figured it could go a few different ways: they’d either kill him immediately because he would be deemed a threat, they’d experiment on him, or they’d use him as a bioweapon—the thing he’d been fighting against this whole time.

Ashley tried to convince him that she and her father would do what they could to prevent those outcomes after all he’d done to save and protect her, believing (as a young girl would) that he could be fixed and live a normal life.

Leon knew better than that. And so he asked her to tell the world he died when she made it out. Despite her protests and her tears, she did just that.

He then met with the merchant after saying his goodbye to Ashley. The strange man let Leon trade his weapons and equipment—things he’d never need to use again—for basic supplies to ease his transition into living in the wilderness.

Leon had always preferred civilization to the great outdoors. The irony that he'd spend the rest of his life in the middle of nowhere after lamenting this fact was not lost on him.

With a cheerful adieu, the merchant packed up his things and left, never to return.

Leon was alone.

At first, it was almost peaceful.

He lived off hunting the animals in the woods and spearing the fish in the lake with his new scorpion-like tail. He even maintained a friendship with the dog he helped (that helped him in return), aptly naming him “Wolfie” because Leon had never been the creative type.

Even with his animal companion, though, Leon felt… lonely. He had lost everything; his friends thought he was dead, he no longer had a purpose to fulfill beyond survival, and his humanity had been ripped away from him—one of the few things left he ever really held onto while fighting monsters for so long.

He craved human connection more than anything but knew he had to settle for what he had.

And so, when the occasional curious hiker appeared nearby, he did what he could to scare them off. He rarely had to do much to ensure that they wouldn’t come back, using the decomposing bodies of the Ganados and the carcasses of his prey as “decorations” around the entrance of the village.

Of course, there was the occasional brave soul who ventured into his new home. Leon had to take matters into his own hands by either darting between trees and buildings to feed their paranoia or simply showing himself from a distance, standing to his full height and glaring them down.

They always ran screaming after that.

The longer he lived alone, the less human he felt he was, giving in to baser instincts to survive and provide for himself and Wolfie.

But he tried to maintain the human side of him that somehow still persisted, in any way he could.

He’d talk out loud to himself and his furry friend. He holed up in the village chief’s house and took care of it to the best of his ability. He would set traps for rabbits and birds. He even used the old motorboat to go fishing in the lake, though it eventually ran out of fuel, forcing him to rely on the four appendages that sprouted from his spine as makeshift paddles.

He did his best.

The years slipped by and his loneliness only grew.

Wolfie was old now and Leon worried what would happen to the little sanity he had left when his only companion died. He did what he could to keep the wolf-dog comfortable, ruffling his clawed hands through his fur as he’d done a million times. But now gray tinged the animal’s coat, and Leon wondered how he never noticed it before.

What about Leon, then? Was he aging, too?

In a fit of rage, during the early days of his transformation, he had broken all the mirrors in the house, not wanting to look at himself and what he’d become.

So now he traveled to the well outside, staring at his rippling reflection in the dark water.

The skin of his face was still smooth—or what was left of it after his mouth ripped apart to make room for the rows of deadly sharp teeth that burst from his gums.

His once blue eyes were now a vibrant, glowing red, his vision having been improved vastly by becoming the ultimate apex predator. Just another step further from his humanity, he thought.

He kept his hair the way he always liked it, though learning to use the rusty scissors he found while out rummaging in the village had been a challenge with his new needle-like fingers.

His body had been slowly… growing… over the years. Elongating. His arms and legs, once thick and corded with muscle, were thinning into gangling limbs.

God, it was like a second puberty. But infinitely worse.

He barely fit into any of the clothes he’d collected, the articles simultaneously too loose on his form but far too short to cover his lower abdomen and calves. He didn’t bother with shoes anymore, none able to be pulled onto his taloned feet.

It was fine, however, as the ground wasn’t painful to traverse now (even on the roughest of terrain), and he no longer experienced the cold or the heat in a way that could affect him. That was one of the few “improvements” he welcomed over time, after facing the sweltering summers and winters blanketed in snow.

Despite these changes, though, Leon realized while studying his mirror image that there wasn’t a single indication of aging to be seen. Not a gray hair or wrinkle in sight.

Internally, he began to panic.

If he didn’t age, would that mean he’d be stuck living like this forever? That once Wolfie passed, he’d be alone for eternity?

He wished he had just gone with Ashley and hoped whoever greeted them would have gunned him down on the spot. At least then he wouldn’t have had to live this half-life, practically a ghost already haunting these woods.

He wondered if even the cruelty of experimentation or being used as a weapon would be worth no longer facing this suffocating isolation.

He chided his younger self for his optimism that being left behind was the best option.

It was set, then. After he buried his dog, he would finally pluck up the courage to kill himself. It wouldn’t be easy for him. Leon had always been a fighter, never wanting to give up. But he was tired, and there was nothing besides his animal companion that was keeping him tethered to the world. He was listless.

And yet, there was still a part of him that hoped something might change. He of all people—if he even had the right to call himself a person anymore—knew better than to let hope lead him.

It had been a decade of the same, hadn’t it?

The monotony of his days was almost too much to bear. He thought years ago, before he was infected, that he would enjoy a life like this. It was peaceful in a way, wasn’t it? He realized now he missed the chaos.

A far-off noise suddenly jarred him from his thoughts.

Another “improvement” had been his enhanced hearing. He could pick something up nearly a mile away.

He tilted his head to better decipher the sound.

Footsteps.

Well, that wasn’t unusual, given the area. It was full of wildlife, after all.

But then he heard something else, something that made his whole body freeze up.

Something so distinctly human, there was nothing else it could possibly be.

He heard singing.

+++

Your family and friends had called you ridiculous when you told them you wanted to hunt the supernatural for a living.

Perhaps they were right, but it was a passion of yours to seek out the weird and wild. Maybe that was why you were so compelled by what went bump in the night.

You weren’t sure you truly believed in ghosts and cryptids and the like, but you had an open mind and the ambition to seek out answers. Given the state of the world and the B.O.W.s that terrorized it, you supposed the supernatural might not be far removed from reality, anyway.

You had always been deemed “strange” by others. Had always been on the outside looking in, wondering why being normal never came easy to you.

It didn’t help that your body type—short and plump—made you feel further removed from everyone else. You never thought you were ugly or unattractive, but that didn’t stop others from deciding you were, based solely on something so trivial.

But you weren’t completely alone. Your family loved you, you made good friends, and you even had your fair share of relationships over the years.

You learned that normalcy was bullshit, and so you embraced your strangeness.

And that’s what led you to this abandoned village, hidden deep in the Spanish woodlands.

The locals of a nearby town had told you of the horrors that occurred here. Stories of missing hikers and a cult seeking to take over the world through a parasitic bioweapon; of the daughter of the former United States president being rescued by a young agent who died tragically while saving her life.

You knew all of this already, of course. You had done your research on this place and what had happened to it.

You knew that Ashley Graham made it home safe—traumatized but mostly unharmed. You knew the cult and its monsters had been completely wiped out. You knew the place was practically a ghost town, the forest beginning to reclaim the ruins.

None of that, though interesting, was what brought you to this village, however.

What caught your attention was what came after.

Many were curious about the place when the news broke, but only a rare few dared to visit it. Fewer still ever made it past the gate.

But those who did spoke of a creature who lurked in the shadows. They claimed it was tall—nearly seven feet—and its eyes glowed red. No one had managed to snap a photo of it in their state of panic, but the descriptions were all consistent.

El Escorpion, they called it.

It seemed like a solid lead, and even if you never found this recently discovered cryptid, the tragic and insane history—not to mention the creepiness factor—of the location would be enough material to write a compelling post for your paranormal blog.

Despite your family and friends’ initial concerns about your career of choice, you were doing well for yourself.

You still had to work on the side to pay for your rent and all the expenses that came with your investigations, often cranking out clickbait articles for a quick buck. But your blog had only recently popped off, your posts receiving a ton of new followers after an emotional visit to the ruins of Raccoon City (and likely a dangerous one, considering the radiation).

People liked your methods. They liked that you explained the story behind every location you visited with great detail and respect, but managed to keep it fun while still building up a spooky atmosphere.

If you were honest, the popularity of your blog wasn’t something you really cared about. Although it was nice to see the numbers rise and people engage with your hard work, the content was controversial and you were often belittled for your passion. The only thing you wanted was to get as many followers as it would take to receive sponsorships in hopes of making enough money to take your investigations to new heights.

It definitely wasn’t easy trying to live your dream, but so far it had been rewarding. You hoped this trip would be, too.

You had just exited the vehicle of the friendly (and very, very chatty) local who was kind enough to offer you a ride to your destination. They were a fan of your blog, they told you, and warned you to be careful.

Once they drove off, nothing could have prepared you for the horrifying sight that greeted you when you began your journey.

Bones and rot littered the ground—were even strung up on the surrounding trees like party streamers. Several of the carcasses seemed awfully fresh, and you weren’t sure, but some of the older remains looked… almost human?

No, you had to be imagining it.

But if the visuals didn’t make your stomach turn, the smell definitely did.

Ignoring your watering eyes and the gag reflex threatening to trigger, you pulled the collar of your shirt over your nose and snapped a few promising pictures before moving forward.

It was a bit of a walk, having to travel through an old hunting lodge that had seen better days in order to finally reach the village gate.

You balked at the human skulls that lined the top, a chill lurching up your spine at the realization. Instead of allowing the sinking feeling in your gut to control you, you took some more photos instead, determined to see this through.

You drew in a deep, calming breath and opened the gate, having to use most of your strength to push through the rust that coated its hinges.

You practically vibrated with a mix of excitement and anxiety as you looked at the village before you.

It was terrifying to do this alone, but you had grown used to the solitude during your investigations. You reminded yourself that the most you had dealt with in the past were other people pulling pranks on you and wild animals going about their business.

So, you continued on, not wanting to feed the needling fear that someone or something could have been left behind by the cult.

You spent some time in the village, singing to yourself to help settle your nerves, before leaving out of another gate. You didn’t have a map of the area, no one having been much further than the village in the ten years since its abandonment, so you simply had to explore on your own and hope you didn’t get lost.

You were walking down a wooded path, taking in every detail as you meandered forward, when you heard a rustle in the trees beside you.

Whatever it was, it must have been huge. You prayed it was a deer.

Gathering your courage, you faced the direction of the noise and drifted closer to the edge of the forest, your movements careful and deliberate in hopes of not scaring whatever it was off or goading it to attack you.

It was broad daylight, but you were struggling to see into the shade cast by the densely packed foliage.

“I won’t hurt you,” you whispered gently as another movement from whatever it was jostled the bush in front of you.

It was stupid, but you felt inclined to reach out your hand, hoping it wouldn’t get bitten.

That’s when you saw the pair of glowing eyes staring at you through the leaves, roughly waist-height to you.

You felt some sense of relief at that, believing it to be a woodland animal.

That is, until the eyes started to move up.

You froze in place, hand still outstretched, as a massive creature stood upright before you, their features obscured by shadow.

Your mind screamed at you to run but your legs remained locked in place.

This is it, you thought. I’m going to die.

Well, at least it was a good run.

The creature stepped forward into the light and you were met with possibly the most horrifying beast you had ever seen.

It was over a foot taller than you, its form similar to that of a human, if not for the four long, spidery appendages that unfolded from its back, a scorpion tail whipping behind it.

It had talons on its feet and long claws instead of fingers, the tips of them dangerously sharp, its worn clothes hanging off of it awkwardly.

Your eyes eventually climbed back up to its face, its mouth split nearly to its ears as it bared its fangs at you, glinting wickedly in the midday sun.

Your gaze met those glowing red orbs once more, the creature’s expression akin to a glare.

Something about its face seemed so familiar to you for some reason, the mix of confusion and terror only further cementing you to the ground.

You still didn’t move when it took another step closer, its leg nearly brushing your still outstretched hand.

“You should’ve been running by now.”

You were startled by its voice, the sound deep and masculine. And pleasantly human despite the obvious threat.

You knew you had heard it before.

He leaned forward, his head level with yours as he searched your face, looking clearly befuddled by your refusal to escape.

“You’re practically begging me to eat you, little rabbit. But I prefer a chase.” He sounded serious, but he made no move to touch you.

Your hand finally fell to your side and you swallowed, hard.

“You’re lying.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, barely visible behind a curtain of choppy blond hair, before replying, “Excuse me?”

You took a shaky breath. “You’re lying. You’re not going to eat me. You’re not going to hurt me at all. There hasn’t been a disappearance in the area for ten years and everyone who’s come here since has lived to tell the tale.”

He laughed in surprise, running a claw through his hair. It was so uncanny how human it was. And how familiar. “Maybe I’m just a bad hunter.”

“Well, if those animal remains at the front of the village path are anything to go by, I highly doubt it.”

“Not all of them were animals, you know.”

“The ones that weren’t are too old, though, aren’t they?”

“You’re observant, I’ll give you that.” He folded his long arms over his chest, red eyes looking out across your surroundings, sounding almost sheepish as he added, “You know, this might be the most I’ve talked to someone I should be eating instead.”

He shook his head and chuckled to himself before meeting your gaze.

And then it clicked.

“You’re… You’re Leon Kennedy, aren’t you?” you breathed.

He stiffened at the name. “How do you know who I am? Did someone tell you? Did someone send you here?”

He took another step during his inquisition, your noses nearly touching, his hot breath fanning across your face as you glanced at his sharp, sharp teeth.

“I’ve seen pictures of you. Interviews, too. You were all over the news when you survived Raccoon City. And again when President Graham claimed you died in action.” You paused for a moment in thought before you asked, “Did Ashley Graham know you survived?”

He scoffed, pulling back and stepping around you to add some distance. “I asked her to tell the world I was dead so I could live the rest of my days in peace as this… monster.”

“Ah, and all these curious visitors are like annoying kids in your front lawn?”

He huffed out a laugh. “Something like that. Why are you here, anyway? You seem kinda far from home.”

“Well…” It was your turn to look sheepish as you tried to explain, “I’m a paranormal investigator, and I came here because there were cryptid sightings in the area. Guess you’re the cryptid. Mystery solved.”

He rushed back over to you, grabbing your arm. The movement jostled you and made you flinch, but it didn't hurt. He winced at your reaction, though, and loosened his grip. “Listen, please don’t tell anyone I’m here. I don’t need this place becoming a tourist hotspot. Not yet, anyway.”

“Not yet..? What does that mean?”

“Don’t worry about it, just… Please just promise me you won’t tell anyone about this.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “The problem is that I spent a lot of money on this trip, and if I don’t have something to show for it, my career could flop.”

He sighed deeply, releasing his hold. “Look, I can make it up to you, okay? If you’re strapped for cash, I have a bunch of gemstones, jewelry, and expensive little knick-knacks. Take what you can carry, got it?”

You thought on it for a moment, considering your options. You wanted to respect his privacy, but it was difficult to let something this big go. However, if he was willing to pay for your silence, you supposed you couldn’t complain. Maybe you could even buy better equipment when this was all said and done.

“Okay. Deal.”

He moved to shake your hand in his clawed one but pulled back when he noticed you eyeing it nervously. “Great. We’ll get you your stuff and send you on your way before it gets dark.”

“About that… My ride isn’t coming to get me until tomorrow morning. I was planning to camp out here tonight,” you revealed.

He gave you an incredulous look. “You’re telling me you heard rumors about a monster living in the area and you decide you’re going to spend the night here? No backup plan?”

“What can I say, I like to live on the edge. Besides, I didn’t really believe there was a monster out here, anyway. Egg on my face, I guess.”

He rubbed his eyes with his palms as he let out an exasperated breath. “Right, well I guess you could spend the night, then. There aren’t any B.O.W.s left in the area except me, obviously. But some of the wildlife isn’t exactly friendly. Would be safer for you to stick with me.”

Your lips parted in surprise at his generosity before you offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Mr. Kennedy. I appreciate it.”

“Please, just… Just call me Leon.”

“Well, thank you, Leon,” you said, proceeding to give him your own name.

His lips peeled up in what could almost be described as a bashful smile before he pointed further down the path. “C’mon, then. I can make us dinner.”

You shocked him by hooking an arm through his, beaming up at him.

“We better get to it, then.”

+++

We.

Leon hadn’t heard someone say that in a long time.

Maybe things could be different.

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#plaga!leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #plaga!leon kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil 4 remake #re4r #chubby!reader #half-life

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queen-of-obsessing · 11 months

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“What if I want to fold the laundry?”

Merlin had incredulously asked Arthur one warm afternoon, when they were lounging in Arthur’s chambers, catching him up on the details of a new peace treaty, and Merlin had absentmindedly started to fold up the laundry as they spoke.

They had only been married for a little over a year, and Merlin court sorcerer for even longer than that. His memories of his servanthood are nothing but a faint memory he looks back on with mirth, and a twinge of longsuffering.

But not for Arthur. Those days are rife with embarrassment. Every time a memory casually floats past his mind - of dumping buckets on Merlin’s head or throwing something at him - a shudder of shame courses through him, and he pauses what he’s doing to bury his face in his hands, muffling a groan. All those years of treating his beautiful, angelic, powerful lover as nothing more than a servant. It’s more than he can stomach. Sure, he didn’t know the truth about him, but that doesn’t change the fact that he wishes he did.

It’s why he never thinks about it, and why when Merlin starts to fold up the laundry, panic surges through Arthur, and he leaps from the desk, rushing to snatch the laundry from his husband’s hands. “You don’t need to do that-!” he splutters, handing it off to a passing George.

Merlin is caught off guard, his now empty hands lingering in the air. “What if I want to fold the laundry?” he protested.

“It’s not your job.”

“But-” He wants to. Merlin doesn’t look back on those days with shame and embarrassment. Arthur may have been a clotpole at the time, but he knew it was only because he didn’t know. It was a part of his life, and doesn’t regret a thing. And he never minded the work. It took his mind off things, gave him something to do when destiny was getting too heavy. More than that, he liked taking care of Arthur, making sure he was safe and dressed. He had done it for so long that it just seemed natural; like a love language. An “I love you” woven into every tying of shirt laces. So he can’t understand why Arthur won’t let him do it now. “Surely even a court sorcerer can do some chores every now and then?” he protested lightly.

“No.”

Merlin’s brows furrowed, but he dropped the subject. No use arguing over it. He made a mental note to ask him about it one of these days, but not today.

#merthur #married merthur #also the love on the previous one was unreal #absolutely unreal #i must write this fic #happy au #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #court sorcerer merlin #this is my 7000th post!!

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theflyindutchwoman · 10 months

Note

TOP 5 ANON: What are you Top 5 Chenford Moments Of Season 5?

You have no idea what you started, Anon haha! This was so hard to choose… and, as always, I can't keep it short. But thank you for this ask : it was such a great trip down memory lane. So let's get to it.

05 | Episode 22 - Hug & Battle Couple A forehead kiss has been on my wishlist for a while now, so the scene in Lucy's apartment was naturally going to end up on this list. It was the perfect parallel to their hug in Tim's living room, but with the added bonus that this time, they were in a relationship : Lucy didn't have to ask for anything, Tim just knew instinctively what she needed and the way he engulfed her, shielding her from the world, and kissed her head made this scene even better. As for that second scene, I have a weakness for the Battle Couple trope and these two do that so well (and not that often unfortunately). Their banter at the beginning and the 'you know me so well' callback were so good already. But once you add how Tim was ready to stay behind and sacrifice himself to give Lucy a chance to get to safety, how she straight up refused and he didn't protest, how she played the role of the strategist and he simply followed her lead, how they were taking turns protecting each other… and this scene became one of my all-time favourite.

04 | Episode 12 - Tim giving up patrol The way these two didn't even consider breaking up as an option and instead, immediately agreed to prioritise the other over their career says everything about how serious this relationship is to them. We didn't need to hear Tim's confirmation to know it - even though it was a great bonus. Still, for Tim to just go to Grey's office and give up patrol without a second thought, was monumental. Especially considering how he used to refuse to move up the ladder because he loved patrol so much. And especially considering how his last two girlfriends wanted him to leave his job behind without truly asking him for his input in the first place. But here, he didn't hesitate. Just like he didn't hesitate to reject a promotion when Lucy was still his rookie. He actually didn't even ask or care what his new job would be : the only thing that mattered to him was to be with her and make sure she wouldn't be the one having to sacrifice her career by being transfered in a new station where she'd have to prove herself all over again. And don't get me started on the following scene in her apartment... If I start, I won't stop.

03 | Episode 10 - Getting ready to their date The montage for this scene was phenomenal. Between all those callbacks to Lucy's iconic dresses (and moments), Tim's beaming smile while remembering the green dress, the fact that he called her because he was getting nervous and she's his safe space and the banter that was quintessential Chenford, it was simply perfect. They looked so giddy when they were on the phone, their joy so palpable, that we could feel how freeing it was for them to start this new relationship. No more pretending, no more hiding. Bonus moment : their second first date. It was soft, truer to who they are… And while there was still a shyness present, they looked more at peace too. Not to mention Tim's hand on her thigh, that very soft kiss or Lucy's joke about their grandchildren. They both looked relieved to be on the same page, to know that they're both all-in, that they both want the same things. And judging by Tim's smile, it was absolutely liberating.

02 | Episode 08 - Unless it is… I can't express how much I love this moment. Tim trying to make sure Lucy didn't settle and help her process things out… Lucy blurting her feelings out because she finally caught on to them and she couldn't contain them any longer… Both of them gently calling the other out on their respective safe relationships… Lucy taking the first step before backtracking and Tim taking a leap of faith… The most important relationship in my life… It's not worth the risk - Unless it is… Their bashful smiles at the end, the relief on Tim's face before he started beaming and glowing… But most of all (and I know that might be unpopular), I love how soft it was. How this 'confession' wasn't made in a rush or in a middle of a fight/dire situation. It was mature and healthy. And it was exactly what they needed (in my opinion) after their 'almost hookup' in the first episode. They needed to be both in the moment, to fully consider whether it was worth the risk. To talk together like they've always been able to do in the past. This whole episode felt like some kind of reset, of getting back to their foundations after several months of misunderstanding and questioning whether it was just biology, the rush of the moment or real. So after Vegas and all the guilt and doubts, they deserved that softness, that steadiness.

01 | Episode 01 - Tim grabbing Lucy's hand Speaking of steadiness… This is such a short moment in an episode full of great ones but it's so raw and perfect. Tim's gesture was so instinctual : they both just found out about Rosalind's escape and that was the first thing Tim did. Anchor Lucy. Ground her to the present and give her as much comfort as he could. Be her lifeline. But also reassure himself that she was there with him, alive and safe (all things considered). He might not have been able to immediately hug her the way he did in Day of Death, but this was as good. And it elevated the following scene in the bathroom plane, with him providing her a safe space… And THAT KISS. With her grabbing him and taking comfort in his presence and steadfastness… And that kiss!

Bonus : . Tim acknowledging Lucy's audiobooks and how she was instrumental in helping him score this high in the sergeant's exam . Lucy running to the hospital and staying by his side despite the awkwardness at the time between them

And voilà, this is the end (finally!). What about you? What are your Top 5?

#Ask & ye shall receive #The rookie #Chenford #Lucy Chen #Tim Bradford

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monocle-teacup · 1 month

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Guess what, it's time for Mandroid and a Cat Part 3! Here's links to Part 1 and 2.

Tagging @sveene, @yayoineko, and @vihattu-thethoroughbredofsin because Mandroid content

Stephen’s plan of taking the cat to the groomer went accordingly. Since he didn’t have a carrier, he constructed one with scraps he had lying around his lab. When the feline was returned to him, it looked as if it went through a harrowing experience.

“I trimmed the nails, too.” the groomer said. “Good thing I did because I’d be bleeding right now.”

“Thank you.” the scientist replied.

“Poor thing is so skinny. You should hit the pet store on your way home.”

He said nothing to that and left.

It had been a few months since he last entered Witwicky. The only locations he was concerned with were places to get food and household items. The thought occurred to him that he could leave the cat in the town square since it was so populated. However, he couldn’t go through with it during the day due to the likelihood that someone would catch him in the act. He didn’t have any intention of wandering around town for hours so he decided to return to his lab.

On his way, he happened to look up and see the pet store the groomer mentioned earlier. Apparently he had bypassed it multiple times in his previous trips to town but never realized it.

He stared at the sign and then the cat.

“I suppose I should at least give you something after the ordeal you went through.” he commented. He was answered by a frosty glare.

As soon as he entered the building, he immediately went to the cat section. He was totally out of his element and as much as he tried to hide that fact, it wasn’t long before a female employee came to assist him.

“Can I help you sir?” she asked.

“What food would you recommend for a stray?”

She bent down to inspect the carrier. “Aww! What a cute kitty! You look so skinny though.” Straightening, she stared at the shelf. “Hmm… Since the cat doesn’t look like it needs to gain too much weight, you should be able to get away with regular food.” She lifted a bag. “This is the most popular brand since most kitties love it. They also have wet food and treats.”

“I’ll just take the bag for now.” He made eye contact with the cat. “Actually, I’ll take a can of food as well.”

“Great! I’ll take these to the front for you.” She walked away.

“I hope this is an acceptable peace offering.” He tried ignoring how a small part of him was happy when the cat let out a “Mrr”.

He started making his way to the checkout when he realized he didn’t have anything to put the food in. None of the dishware he had at the lab was suitable. He glanced at the shop’s selection of bowls and grabbed the cheapest metal ones they had.

As he paid for the food, he spotted a blue feather toy and noticed how interested the animal was. Without a word, he placed it on the counter.

“Are you interested in signing up for our rewards program?” the employee inquired. “You can receive discounts and free bags of food.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“All right, then.” She handed him the bag. “Have a great day!”

When Stephen returned to the lab, he read the feeding instructions on the bag. The cat sat on the floor nearby, curious as to what he was doing.

“I think the wet food is the better choice this time.” he said. When he popped the tab, the feline perked up with a squeak he never heard it make before. “So, someone appears to have been feeding you.” Its cries grew louder the longer it took for him to place the can on the ground. “Patience.”

The cat happily ate the food. A good way to describe its behavior was gorging itself. He picked up the can, causing the animal to meow in protest.

“I’m not an expert on caring for a cat, but if you eat too quickly you’ll vomit.” It headbutted his leg. “Hmm… I should probably scoop out a small amount so you don’t eat too much at once.” Thankfully he had plastic spoons in the kitchen which was a short distance away.

The cat complained while following him. He placed a chunk in one of the bowls he bought and put it on the floor.

As the animal resumed eating, he went over to his desk to continue perfecting schematics for an energon draining device. It was a logical step in dealing with the Cybertronian threat. He didn’t have any test subjects at the moment, but it wouldn’t be difficult to obtain some.

Time passed as he poured over details. Once again, he had no idea the cat was on his lap until he heard a meow. He looked down.

“Out of all possible spots in the lab, why do you keep choosing my lap?” The feline made no response and gazed at him. “Perhaps I should’ve bought a bed… Wait, I already spent enough on you and your stay here is temporary.” There was a blink followed by the animal shifting to get more comfortable. He sighed. “I suppose my lap is better than you knocking things off my desk again.”

#tf #tfe #transformers #transformers earthspark #tf earthspark #earthspark #fic #fanfic #my writing #fanfiction #dr. meridian #mandroid #earthspark mandroid #tfe mandroid

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emhasthoughts · 6 months

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A horrible, not so good, very bad visit

Summary: Gertrude despised the note stuck to her fridge. Mike, Michael, Helen, Simon. Veterinarian. 10/29, 2.15 pm

A/N: This was a way to award myself after a horrible, not so good, very bad Friday and Saturday. And yes, it's another cat avatar au. Yes, the date is the day night when I posted this.

Also, fun fact: I forgot the word "pet carrier" when writing this.

Not beta read, just me, a document and google

Pt 1, Simon, Peter, Elias and Mike / Pt 2, Michael and Helen Distortion, Agnes / Pt 3, Annabelle, Jude, Oliver / Pt 4, Maxwell, Manuela, John, Jane / Halloween bonus!

Gertrude despised the note stuck to her fridge.

Mike, Michael, Helen, Simon. Veterinarian. 10/29, 2.15 pm

It was hard enough getting one cat for their checkup, four was nearly impossible. Simon was usually alright with going to the vet. He did not seem to care about being poked around. Mike was a bit worse, not liking being poked and moved by strangers and even worse had been checking the scar. Helen and Michael were just always hard to handle. Causing chaos and confusion wherever they went. The worst was bringing those four together considering the fact that, well, Mike did not get along with the siblings.

“Don’t be like that.” Gertrude sighed. Mike had made himself comfortable on the top shelf. She had pulled two pet carriers, firstly wrestling Helen and Michael into one that could fit them both. Secondly she had called for Simon who did not protest as he got in the second one. She had then called for Mike who saw the two carriers and climbed up the tallest shelf.

“Come on down, the others are waiting for you. Better get down and get this over with.” Mike hissed at that. Pressing himself even more towards the wall. “I’ll get Jurgen.” An even longer, angrier and louder hiss. Gertrude sighed. She looked around the room for anything to get Mike down with. ‘Aha’, her broom was still out from her last time cleaning.

The visit was not any better. Simon had gone first, luring the poor veterinarian to a false sense of security. Mike was meant to go after, though he held onto the soft fabric put on the floor of the carrier with his claws, hissing at the humans. So Michael had to go second. There was no fighting but he had enough energy to give power to all the electronics in the building. Helen was just slightly better, not as much running around, but the energy she did have combined with her dislike towards the veterinarian was enough to not have as peaceful of an experience as Simon. They managed to get Mike out eventually and gave him an extra treat once they were done.

It was much nicer as they got home. Mike had found Oliver by the window and curled up by the still -but awake- cat, only for him to fall asleep there. Leaving Oliver to stay still even longer. Michael and Helen had not managed to stay awake for more than 10 minutes either, leaving the house a bit calmer. Simon had found his way to Peter and Elias. Gertrude decided that she deserved a nap after the hectic day.

#mike crew #gertrude robinson #simon fairchild #michael distortion #helen distortion #oliver banks #mention of Peter Lukas and Elias Bouchard #Mention of Jurgen Leitner #cat avatars #the magnus archives

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whilomm · 7 months

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i made a longer rambly post that i deleted bc other people are more eloquent, but just.

no, even if there are horrible actions being committed, that with not make me forget the fact that israel has been committing ten times as many atrocities over the decades. no, i wont specifically celebrate rape and torture bc those are obviously fucking horrible, but i will never "stand with" the settler colonist state that caused the conditions that lead to this. i have no sympathies for those who actively chose to live right beside the worlds largest open air prison, full of people with good reasons to hate them. i care far more about the palestinians who have spent years watching their friends families and neighbors being slaughtered than i ever will anyone who is just now feeling the same terror for the first time.

violence may be awful, but i still care more about the colonized than the colonizers, and im not gonna hand wring over it when peaceful protests from palestinians ended in them being fucking slaughtered.

#buzzy #palestine #israel #free palestine

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phoeebsbuffay · 2 years

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Imagine Vader falls in love with you. He’s been in angst after his recent encounter with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. But hope rises when he’s with you. You are neither too good nor too bad. You, in fact, are the balance he needs. Part III.

Warnings: drama, angst, smut but FLUFFY ending! Anakin, must be said, never harmed the younglings in any of my stories.

Warnings 2: originally inspired by Ed Sheeran’s “Give Me Love”.

No minors

***

Your POV.

You dream a strange dream. It is a land where the mist is so intense that it omits the scenario you are in. When looking up, skies are cloudless, but there are no stars, no moon, anything at all. It’s all black. It’s all dark.

“Anakin?” You ask, terrified when you realize where you are. “Anakin, where are you?!”

A ghostly laughter is heard. Not the sound of the dead, but of the evil that reaches your ears. It gives you chills when the answer comes.

“You are not taking him away from me. You thought you could save Darth Vader, Y/N?”

Another laughter. A voice that comes from the void, no form to be seen, but whose words are real to your psychism. Real enough to shake your fears from the depths of your mind.

But you resist the mind control. I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.

You awake, thus. When looking at a sleepy Anakin, his messy curls falling over his face—a peaceful sight to contemplate, which warms your heart—-you don’t believe the dream. No, It’s just a nightmare. But why does your heart remain heavy?

You dissipate foolish fears out of your mind. And so far it’s enough, specially when he unconsciously looks for you and it’s not until that you are under his arm that he snores back again. You smile. Nothing would end the idyllic peace you are now.

However, two nights later the same nightmare happens. This time, you are chased by a pair of yellow eyes. You battle their owner in a series of challenges that prove to be so intense that seem to trap you in there.

Anakin does feel some disturbance and he is the one to wake you up at a great deal. He is paled when looking at your state: you are sweating, but your eyes are wide as if you are struggling to recognize where you are and the leve of your heartbeat is too loud.

“My love, please talk to me! What happened?”

“A nightmare. I… I don’t know.” You begin to sob, terrified.

Anakin holds you close, rubbing your back. Though outside your room the winds are announcing the winter, he fears there might be something wicked in it too.

“We must leave this planet.” He tells you suddenly. “I don’t have a good feeling what might happen if we stay here longer.”

You nod.

“I think it’s time.

The two of you lock gazes in mutual understanding. However, as you both leave bed and prepare to pack, a question remains unanswered: is running away going to solve the problem?

***

Vader’s Anakin’s POV.

He watches you train with your saber intently. This time your hair is tied in a bun on top of your head, making you look regal. Your eyes are full of concentration and he knows you’ve been doubling the efforts to defend yourselves from what is now acknowledged as a phantom menace.

“Y/N.” He goes where you are and when you turn at him, Anakin takes your saber from your hands. He smirks before your protestations. “I know you are worried, my love, but anxieties are not changing the circumstances we are now. Come here, my love.”

He takes you to seat under a tree. You are dressing a green flower-ish gown that shows a little of your collarbone. As you sit in the between of his legs, you are surprised when he greets you with a kiss right in your cheek, moving to bite your earlobe.

“Anakin…” you giggle, the tension instantly going away as his lips are moving to your neck, biting it and sucking it until another bruise comes. “My darling! Be careful!”

But you actually contradict your complaints by tilting your head to the left, letting him play with you—only because you are now aching for his touch. He lifts the skirts of your dress and inserts a finger all the while exposing your full chest.

You blush as you moan so loud, as he fucks you publically like that even though there is no one around—literally there is one house and an enormous field. If anything, the only companions are the wild animals that come by every now and then.

Anakin smirks at your modesty. But he wants to release you off this pressure; so he inserts one more finger, aroused all the more his name in your mouth is echoed.

“You ruin me, Anakin!” You cry out as your legs tremble and his hand is now a mess because of you.

“That is my objective.” Anakin laughs quietly as he watches you turn at him and mount on his lap, right after freeing his manhood. “Hmm. What beast did I wake?”

“Oh shush!” You giggle as you kiss his lips to mute your moans all the while you move your hips along his.

He pulls your hair back, ruining your bun as your locks are now in his fingers. There is no gentleness as he holds you possessively against him. And so comes his seed right into you again, the nature filled with your noises.

“I love you”, you whisper against his ear, giving light bites around his neck.

“I love you too, princess.” He makes you look at him, smirking maliciously at you. “Are you better?”

“Yes.” You chuckle. “You do have filthy ways to calm my storms, Ani.”

“Always. But if you are displeased…” Anakin laughs when you pout.

He looks at you, mesmerized. For the rest of the day, he stays with you like this, bodies bathed in salt, locked into one another. But as the evening comes, Anakin’s mind comes to dwell in trouble again.

For some reason, now that he is not plagued by the vicious hatred that, like a diseased, had blinded him to reality, circumscribing to what he could reach. He begins to wonder about his children.

About Obi-Wan.

About Ahsoka.

He needs to find them. Anakin knows it now. When looking at you, distracted with your own things, he comes to a conflict.

What should I do about you, Y/N?

***

Your POV.

Grey clouds rumbling into the other announces a tempest. In your heart, you know it’s coming for you. Anakin senses there’s something strange about your restlessness.

“Come to bed, Y/N. Why are you pacing from one side to another? Talk to me.”

You finally complies to him.

“I have a bad feeling about whatever is coming.” As you turn at him, you say: “You feel it too, don’t you?”

As your eyes meet, you know there’s something that rises in his chest. An old anguish that was never buried, never overcome. It electrifies him.

“I…” Anakin hesitates. “There is something I need to discuss with you.”

You tilt your head. There is the fear of losing him that seems to make your heart lose its beats for some time. To appease your anxieties, he takes your hand and tangles your fingers.

“I’ve been…” Anakin takes a deep breath, unsure how to voice what has been instigating his uneasiness. “…preoccupied about other matters that for s long while have escaped my attention because I’ve been blind with hate and grief. I need to know if my children are alive, Y/N. I don’t think they died.”

You hear him calmly. He confides you his anxieties, how seeds of doubts begin to rise and how he cannot be in peace without searching for his master and his former apprentice.

“I owe them.” But then Anakin adds his concern: “I cannot, however, expose you. Because when I go back there, I won’t sustain to hid ourselves too long from the Emperor. And I cannot lose you.”

So that is what these bad feelings have been telling me about.

In part you are relieved for obtaining the answer to your inner unrest. But is the price of the knowledge too high to be paid?

“I don’t want to lose you.” You say without thinking it twice. “Nonetheless, I would be selfish to keep you here. I’m going with you, Anakin. No, don’t give me that look. You are not going alone, you will not face these trials by yourself. We are in this together.”

Anakin cups your face and leans his forehead against yours, his hand moving down to your long hair.

“I cannot afford to lose you, princess.”

“Neither can I, SkyGuy.”

And you seal your destiny when you kiss him on his lips.

***

Vader’s Anakin’s POV.

The Force leads him to Tatooine. At first he hesitates. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe this is not where I am supposed to be at.

He looks at you. You are admiring the space, the complex universe you’ve only seen from the perspective of the resident of planet Y/C.

It’s easy to forget that innocence can rise back to surface after years drowned in darkness.

You taught him that even in the darkest holes of the soul, it’s possible to let there be light. To let rise again.

Padmé was right. I was never entirely lost to the Sith. How late was I to realize that?

“What matters now”, he hears you say after moments emerged in himself, “is that you are honoring her memory. You are doing what is right to correct your wrongs.”

Anakin forgets that, like him, you have the facility of being a mind reader.

“I’m sorry. I still have my doubts.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. She’s part of who you are, I respect that.”

He doesn’t look at you, but appreciates the thought. As he turns the ship to land in Tatooine, it’s when the trials begin. It’s about the origins, going back to a past that for so long has been renegaded, turned into dust.

He’d told you once about his infancy there spent amongst slavery, the attempt to rescue his mother that led to such an unforgivable path of blood.

When twilight cast its shadows, it was when sun began to set.

Anakin is shielded into himself as he angrily crosses the sand he hates. A hood falls over his head, hiding his features like the first day he met you. You too are not exhibiting your features, careful in retracing his steps in the most curious planet you’ve laid your eyes on.

But Anakin’s heart is carried with burden and regret to take notice of elsewhere. Emotions begins to loom, he is overwhelmed. You notice it and you rush to his side.

“It’s going to be all right. Be strong.” You are helping him stand when a voice is heard.

“Vader?” The male is shocked, not to say perplexed, petrified by what is seen. When you raise your eyes, you see a ginger male whose eyes remind you of Anakin’s, though are painted in a deep shade of blue. “Anakin? Is that you?”

Anakin’s eyes are puddled with tears. There is much to be said. The tension is in the air, he can see Obi-Wan standing right before him.

“Master.” His voice is embargoed. Obi-Wan’s eyes begin to tear up. “Master, I’m sorry. I failed you. I beg your forgiveness.”

You encourage subtly Anakin giving the first steps and he feels it. Obi-Wan is still reluctant, searching for some sign he’s misunderstanding what he’s told. Anakin doesn’t blame him. That’s why he’s slowly pushed into him.

“What are you saying…”

“What I’m saying is that I’m sorry for the wrongs I’ve caused you.” Tears that for so long have been buried, denied, refused access to his psychism. The bleeding of open wounds that does not stop. The expiation of his regret, the attempts to amend his fall. “Forgive me.”

Obi-Wan is moved by the sufferings of the one who not so long ago was more than his Padawan, more than a brother in arms, the closest to a son. All of the pain. All of the angst he had in himself… Could he deny Anakin’s redemption?

Finally he steps to where Anakin is and, helping him stand from the sands where his knees sank him to, helps him stand. Obi-Wan too is in tears when he holds him in his arms.

“Welcome back, Anakin. Welcome back.”

***

Your POV.

You opt for the shadows when you watch Anakin play with his son. At what cost you hold back your tears from such a scene: the young boy telling excitedly his father about his passion for ships and droids.

“Why are you hiding here, my dear?” You hear Obi-Wan’s voice as he comes to where you are. “You should be there too.”

“I don’t know about that.” You smile nervously. You still see yourself as an outsider and each day that passes you retreat. Is there a place for you there in this world, in his world? You are more than pleased to see Anakin happy, you’d not do anything differently. But you don’t feel like you belong there. Or is it your insecurity shading you again?

You don’t have to say much. Master Kenobi reads you well. He places a hand over your shoulder.

“You are being too hard on yourself. In fact, I don’t think we’ve had the chance to speak. May I have a word with you, Miss Y/N?”

You feel the heat paint your cheeks and you nod as you walk out of the Skywalker’s property. Obi-Wan has his hands behind his back as he walks side by side with you.

“Anakin told me about you. Your role in his rehabilitation to the balance of Force is not small. Not at all. You seem greater than any Jedi. In truth, I’ve never seen or heard of anyone outside the order whose capacities had the effect you did on him.” He smiles softly as your blush deepens. “You come to remind to those who remain that the Force has a purpose beyond the reach of the Jedis or the Siths, specially when it’s well used. That you overcame your difficulties is admirable. Few could say so.”

“I don’t think I deserve that compliment, Master. I only followed my heart.” You say rather shyly, avoiding the kind gaze he casts at you.

“Your heart is good, pure. The darkness there is in you is perfectly balanced with it. You don’t see that because that is what you’ve accomplished: the balance of the Force.” He smiles broadly. “My point is: you deserve this, yes, Miss Y/N. I appreciate it. We all do. But don’t hide away. Each person that comes to our lives has a role to play. What will be yours is clear to me.”

“I don’t understand. I…” You stop and let out a sigh. “There are many matters that scare me, the result of traumas I thought I was in peace with. I fear losing Anakin, but if his happiness is the cost of it, I’ll learn to deal with it. I don’t mean to replace his former wife or anything.. I…”

Ugh. Since when did I become so terrible with words?

Obi-Wan is more understanding than you expect.

“It’s not about losing or winning. Your insecurities are the result of years of inner battles. But look how far you’ve come. You’re not here to replace anyone. You are here to be you. The Force has brought you to us because, in my understanding, you are like the phoenix. You are the hope that’s here to lead in striking back the darkness.”

“From ashes, we rise.” You mumble, thoughtful.

Obi-Wan takes your hand and smiles.

“You are Anakin’s counterpart, after all. Remember one more thing, Y/N: he who surrenders hope, surrenders life.” And after ensuring you got the message, he adds: “Has Anakin told you about the day we went to planet Y/C?”

***

Anakin’s POV.

To hold his son against his chest and ensures he is sleeping well is a sentiment that moves him to the depths of love, one so divine and incomparable that nearly makes him unworthy of fatherhood. After all he’s done, all the sins he committed, all the wrongs that led to his fall, can he repent all of these? Can he earn his son’s love?

Luke, sensing something is troubling Anakin, carries his mother’s sensibility.

“Daddy, why are you crying?”

Anakin is quick to wipe away the tear of his eyes and turns his head to meet his precious boy’s, whose irises mirror his own.

“No reason, my son. I hope you know, Luke, how much I love you. I… I’ve been away for some reasons, but it was never willingly so.”

How could a child be so pure? How could he be my son?

“I know, daddy. I’ve never doubted you.” He is sleepy, though. Anakin makes sure he is prepared to sleep. “Can you tell me the story of you piloting again? And the droids you build? I’ve been considering purchasing one to me but uncle Owen says I’m too young for that.”

Anakin chuckles. Like father, like son. He ruffles Luke’s hair.

“It is not the time yet, your uncle is right. But one day, when all of this is over—because daddy has some other, eh, business to attend—-I can teach you myself. What do you say?”

Seeing Luke’s face brightening at his words and the love the boy already has for his father is almost making Anakin sensitive again.

“Yes! Yes, please, daddy! I’ll be counting the days… and by the way, don’t get yourself too late because my birthday will be in two months!”

Anakin laughs at his wit. He is so proud of his son, who is a mini-him in many ways. He leans forward to press a kiss in Luke’s temple.

“All right. I won’t forget that. Good night, my son.”

“Good night, daddy.” And then he pauses. Anakin stops by the door sensing Luke is about to say something. “Uh, dad?”

“Yes, kid?”

“I love you.”

Anakin sniffs.

“I love you too, Luke. I love you too.”

When he turns off the light of Luke’s bedroom, Anakin searches for you. He is more than happy in seeing you brush your long locks and prepare yourself to sleep. You raise your face and smile at him.

“Well? How was it?”

“He told me he loves me, Y/N.” Anakin cannot help but break down in tears. You are quick to rush to his side, leading to bed. “I don’t… I…”

The words are choked in his throat, but there is little need to be said. You are there to comfort him. You hold him near, let him weep what’s there to weep.

“You do deserve all the love you are given. You are not a terrible being, Anakin. What’s in the past there should remain. I know you love Luke and he knows it too. Calm your fears, my darling.”

As you hold him close, rocking him in your arms, Anakin’s never been more certain that he loves you. Which is why he reluctantly parts from your embrace.

“My love, there are two things I’d like to discuss with you.”

You tilt your head, surprised for the abrupt change of topics.

“Very well.” You encourage him, though. “What that might be?”

“I’ve been noticing you seem afar, distant. What, I wonder, is the cause that prevents you interacting with Luke?”

You blush faintly at his observation.

“And I was hoping you’d not notice.”

He scoffs at you.

“How could I not? I know I’ve not been the best lately to you…”

“My darling…”

“…but I sense something is not right about you. Can you please communicate?”

“I just…I…” it’s when you tell him what you told Obi-Wan weeks ago. You feel silly for your insecurities, as if all of a sudden you come to realize you are no Padmé.

Anakin softens immediately. How similar the two of you are in so many aspects. He takes your hand and there presses a kiss all the while he snakes another in the back of your neck, drawing you closer to him.

“I don’t want you to feel this way, my love. You are not here to fulfill her place. You are here to be you. The Force did draw one to the other. Not only because we needed to relearn to love so we heal and become our better selves, but because you are the piece that was missing in me.” He smiles when seeing you blink away some uninvited tears.

“I love you, Ani.” You tell him, accepting that you have your fragile side and are not always strong and kind.

“And I love you, Y/nickname. For who you are. I don’t want you to be a different person. I want you to be you, which is why….” to your surprise, he goes down in one knee right before you. “Would you accept to be my wife, Y/N?”

Anakin’s heart for a moment mismatches the beat as he watches your reactions: you pale first, then you raise your hand and rest it over your chest before holding both hands to cover you face. He’s almost concerned when you finally jump over him, making you both drop on the floor.

“A thousand times yes, my darling!” You giggle softly as he breathes relieved.

So you kiss slowly and passionately, but the ending you both deserve has yet one more obstacle to defeat.

***

Your POV.

Unbeknownst to you, your body is going through some difficult changes—read it: you are carrying a child—all the while you settle easily in the role of being Luke’s stepmother. You come to find that after a great period of loneliness and slavery you are rewarded with a new one. You and Anakin along Obi-Wan begin to plan a meeting to the Organas Planet so Anakin finally meets his daughter.

It’s when your bad dreams come back. At first you try to conceal these from Anakin, but once it begins to affect your health—because, may this not be forgotten, dear reader, that there’s a pregnancy on the way upon which you have no clue!—-he starts to notice something is wrong.

“You look pale. What is it?” Anakin asks you. “Y/nickname, my love, please tell me. How can I fix it?”

To his dismay, it’s when you break down in tears. However hard you try, you are unable to conceal the nightmares away from him anymore. Anakin is worried about you, so concerned that he comes after Obi-Wan. It is when the obviate is perceptible: you are under the manipulation of Palpatine. Like he did to Anakin, he is using the Dark Forces to enter in your mind and try to lead you to the dark side.

“There is only one way to end this.” You tell Anakin and Obi-Wan when the three of you gather together to discuss the situation. “We need to fight him.”

“What? You can’t and you won’t fight him, Y/N!” Anakin is the first to protest.

“Why not? Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.” You don’t see Obi-Wan frowning his temple and resting his chin over his hand, looking thoughtful. “I’m as capable as you, Anakin. I’ve been training for this moment.”

“I am not risking your life, Y/N.” He insists. “I am not going to lose you.”

“You are not losing me, Anakin. But you have to trust in me…”

“I think I might have a solution for our problems…” says Obi-Wan.

You and Anakin look right at him.

The battle happens. The long awaited fight that might not only decide your life and all those you care about but the whole Galaxy is fought. Palpatine is not entirely powerful that he cannot be manipulated by the restaure of the Force.

It is mostly thanks to the restoration of the balance of the Force that you, Anakin and Obi-Wan succeed in defeating Darth Sidious. It’s a long battle that costs a great deal of energy, but in the end all ends well.

However, for this reason, victory has a price: you feel sick, much to Anakin’s dismay.

***

Anakin’s POV.

He holds your hair as you throw up in the ship’s bathroom right as you wake up after you past out. Where Anakin might be concerned over you, he is also amused because he begins to understand what’s going on with you.

Finally, as you stand and begin to wash your mouth and brush your teeth, as he rests his chin over your shoulder, he says:

“How are you feeling, babe?”

“Better. Oh Maker, so much better. Not only because the bastard is dead and we succeeded at long last in restoring the Republic, but looks like I am not sick anymore.”

Anakin holds back his smirk when he says:

“I don’t remember seeing you this sick before, Y/Nickname. When was the last time your rules came?”

You slowly start to flush when an idea occurs you. Anakin watches you with delight when you realize that you are pregnant.

“By the Maker! Oh Ani!” You giggle as he hugs you tight. “Our family is growing!”

Anakin is emotional to hear you say so. You consider his children as yours and it means a lot to him. It feels as if his broken world is now amended.

He rests his forehead against yours and smiles warmly.

“We are, my dove. We are.”

Anakin is tearful again after finally getting to know his daughter Leia. His princess, his little girl. She has his energy and his temper, though those eyes Anakin is sure are his. Despite her early distrust, his efforts in bonding with his seven year old daughter soon gives fruits.

“Daddy, daddy! Can I have your saber?”

Anakin raises his eyebrows at her.

“I just recently purchased you the best dolls of the Republic, Leia Skywalker. But it’s the sabers you want? No, missy. You are too young for that.”

She pouts.

“Can you play with me then?”

He lifts her and plants many kisses around his daughter’s face, which prompts her to giggles.

“Daddy is always playing with you, my daughter. Get the dolls. I’ll show you how to play properly with them.”

“Weheee!” And there she goes with a bun in each side of her head, after her dolls.

When she comes back, it’s all she wants to play the rest of the day. But Anakin is gladly doing all she wants.

The twins are present the day Anakin marries you too. They bond with you easily and appreciate to have you as their stepmother. Leia is always insisting to have the same hairstyle as you do, a sign you take positively so you are always aiming to please her by doing so. But you are also the one who has to lecture about not picking fights with Luke. In many ways, you respect the figure of their mother all the while you balance it with adapting that maternal figure you end up becoming. They are also very excited to welcome their new sibling.

Anakin is living with his children, his relationship with Owen and his wife is far better now than before—for good reasons—-as well as with the Organas. He makes sure they are all living in one same place, Coruscant, so his twins can visit their aunt and uncle whenever they feel like to.

It’s also there that he and Obi-Wan Kenobi restaure the Jedi Order. And it’s there he meets Ahsoka Tano too.

When the marriage is finally celebrated, it’s in a new and far different context than it was when Anakin first met you. It’s marked by the diverse expressions of joy and love, above all prevailing peace and respect. The Galaxy celebrates and it’s all well.

As he leans to kiss your lips, Anakin’s eyes go tearful. It finally looks like he’s himself again, having accepted who he really is and learning to leave the trauma behind. And mostly important: you, the savior of his grace, are by his side.

***

Epilogue.

“I’ll protect him more than you. I’ll be a Jedi like my father”, Luke is hissing at his sister in a whisper because baby Ben is asleep.

Leia shows him her tongue.

“I will be a Jedi too, you wait and see. I’ll defeat you, Luke. And our brother will crown me his favorite sibling.” She smirks at him.

Luke is about to say something when the baby starts to cry.

“See? You made him cry!”

The door opens and Anakin sees his children are discussing again.

“Now, now. What did I say about fighting?”

“That we should not punch each other?” says Leia.

“Nor slit each other’s throat?” suggests Luke.

Unfortunately for Anakin, you are right beside him when you hear the children say inappropriate things.

“By the maker, Ani! What are you teaching them?”

He clears his throat as he leans to the cradle and pick up the baby to rock him gently.

“I’ve always meant others not themselves…”

You raise an eyebrow at him before turning at the twins.

“Don’t listen to your dad, children. Violence is never the answer. Besides…” you open your arms and involve each in them.”…you are siblings. You must love each other. Now go on and hug.”

Luke and Leia share a face of disgust. You don’t blink at them.

“Come on. Or either will be grounded.”

“Fiiine.” Leia sighs leaning to hug Luke. “I’m sorry for being boring.”

“And I’m sorry for that too.” He chuckles, earning some tickles from his sister. “Hey, mom. Can I look after Ben tonight?”

Your heart melts as Luke calls you affectionately so. You never expected to be earned this attribution, having been perfectly okay with it. Before marrying Anakin, you say with Luke and Leia to talk about it, making sure you are not there to replace their mother. It’s not your intention to do so, even now.

You blink away a few tears.

“Yes, my darling. Of course you can.” You lean to press a kiss on his forehead as he leaves outside.

Leia stays though. Though she’s quiet, you know she wants something.

“What is it, dear?”

“Hm. Could you, uh, possibly, maybe read that story for me?” And you know exactly which because it’s the one you’ve made up the day she wasn’t sleeping well.

“Of course. I’ll leave your dad with your brother. He needs to be occupied too.” You tease Anakin before going out with Leia.

Anakin sighs, but he has no reason to complain. No reason at all. As he looks down at his son, Anakin kisses his forehead.

“You don’t know how lucky you are in coming to us at the right time, my boy. My prince.”

#star wars #star wars imagine #imagine star wars #Anakin Skywalker #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #Anakin Skywalker smut #Darth Vader #Darth Vader x you #darth vader x y/n #darth vader x reader #Darth Vader smut #Princess Leia #Luke Skywalker

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jarondont · 5 months

Text

So.

I'm writing a book series that is HEAVILY based off of the French Revolution. It's called The Reign of the Revolution (or TRotR for short). Here's the backstory of my main character, Silas Crow. It also explains how the revolution began. I plan on including this in my first book, so I'd love it if you could read it and give feedback! Thank you :)

---

Up until a few weeks ago, our country of Losca was at peace. Or at least, as much peace as you can get with a self-obsessed emperor.

Emperor Endox II had been a horrible ruler ever since about three years ago—shortly after his twenty-eighth birthday, when he killed his father to get the throne for himself, and with him, his mother, since she tried to protect him. Everyone put up with him at first, since we knew how dangerous he was. But then things started getting out of hand.

A few months ago, news spread throughout Losca that Endox’s wife, Meralina, had been brutally murdered by him after they had an argument about matters regarding their son, Prince Faelen. What matters, no one knew. In fact, rumor had it that the man who told this story in the first place was never seen nor heard from again.

Endox only grew more unfair and selfish since then. Taxes had already been high for us peasants—sailors, farmers, and laborers alike—but Endox didn’t stop at this. A few weeks ago, he raised them impossibly high, and for what? So that he could benefit off of the people’s hard-earned money. He raised them so high that many peasants started dying of starvation.

By then, we’d had more than enough, so we protested. A simple, bloodless protest. But since peasants made up over seventy percent of the population, we had Estraham Castle surrounded, and the emperor’s troops panicked.

So they attacked.

The March on Estraham marked the beginning of the Loscan Revolution. Hundreds of lives were lost that day: the emperor’s troops—twenty-seven; the peasants—over three hundred.

My parents included.

I could still hear the gunshots; the screams of innocent protestors. I could still see the horror on my mother’s face as my father was shot square in the chest, blood spewing violently from the wound. I still felt her fingers digging into my arm as she begged me to leave, to save myself—but they didn’t seem to hurt. Nothing hurt. I had gone numb.

Then she, too, was shot. As the bullet struck her in the back, I heard myself screaming, crying, begging for her not to leave me.

Yet she did.

The last words Mimá said to me were, “Vei livé, Silas.”

Live free.

Those words were since etched into my mind.

I vaguely remembered running away, ignoring the pain in my shoulder as a bullet ripped through my flesh, and pushing through the crowd that was rapidly falling around me. I ran, and I didn’t look back.

After what seemed like hours, I found myself in a small alley. I touched my injured shoulder with my other hand, and it came back soaked in blood. Ripping off a strip of cloth from the bottom of my trousers, I wrapped it tight around the wound and knotted it. That took up the last of my energy and willpower. Leaning my head against the stone wall, I slid to the ground and closed my eyes.

Vei livé, Silas. Vei livé…

And it all came flooding back.

That was it. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. Tears streamed down my cheeks as great sobs shook my body. They were gone. My parents were gone, along with far too many others.

And I was alone.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, nor did I care. I remembered hearing voices outside the alley and the stomping of boots. The emperor’s troops, no doubt searching for anyone who escaped. They never found me, but if they had, I wouldn’t have fought back. What was the point?

Then I remembered what Mimá had told me to do—to find the Nemesis. I wasn’t sure what that was, but one thing was certain: I couldn’t let any of their deaths be in vain.

So I stood and brushed away my tears, hearing my mother’s voice in my head once again.

Vei livé.

“I will, Mimá,” I whispered. “I promise.”

---

Thanks for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think, things you liked, suggestions you have, etc.

#trotr #the reign of the revolution #reign of the revolution #smoke from the fire #silas crow #writeblr #writblr #writers on tumblr #my writing #creative writing

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melishade · 9 months

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A good epilogue to the Peaceful Timeline would be to show the future as Attack on High School AU, with Armin, Eren and Mikasa talking about the legend that inspired the movie they just watched, Armin commenting how he would love to discover proof about the legend. The trio doesn't notice a blue and red truck that is parked near the movie theater...

Previous Episode of the Peaceful Timeline

Yeah...but I've had the Peaceful Timeline planned out for months now and there is a story 2,000 years later.

(Am I really gonna talk about it...eh fuck it. MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE PEACEFUL TIMELINE BELOW!)

Because Optimus and Megatron have significantly longer lifespans than humans, the tolls of Ymir, Maria, and even Oshern's death is extremely heavy. Optimus does honor his vow to Ymir and protects her in both life and in death. She and Optimus are actually sitting together on the porch of the cabin. Ymir, of old age, rests her head on Optimus' shoulder in holoform, and speaks her last words to him.

"Thank you...Optimus Prime...for everything...."

And she breathes her last and passes peacefully.

Now Optimus had no idea how Ymir's power operated, and he didn't want her grave to be robbed in the event someone learned about it. So the family held a Viking funeral at the beach they visited for Maria's seventh birthday. Optimus is the one to push her body out to sea and fire the arrow that burns her body. The flames go from orange to blue and they definitely hear the sounds of something else dying, but...Ymir's body is gone. Turned to ash and one with the sea. The truest form of freedom possible. Optimus had completed his mission in protecting Ymir.

And now Megatron is literally counting the days until Maria passes on. Because he sees how Optimus has been acting post-Ymir's passing, and part of him just wants to find some solution to keep Maria alive, but he's sees her so content with her life that if he did something stupid, she would never forgive him. He doesn't want to lose the first person that looked at him without fear. And no matter what Megatron does, he's unable to actually prepare for Maria's passing. And it fucking destroys him. Megatron loses it on the ship that the two of them have been calling home.

Megatron in fury: You did this to me! This was your plan all along, wasn't it?!

Optimus didn't flinch as Megatron chucked the table across the room.

Megatron: You made me care about this pathetic and weak species! As vengeance! For all the crimes I committed! You made me feel what love and compassion was, only to have it ripped away from me! Admit it!

Optimus: Megatron-!

Megatron: ADMIT IT! Admit that this was all a scheme! A lie! Admit it! Please admit it!

Megatron falls to his knees:...please admit it. I...I can't keep feeling like this.

And a much older Rose sees the way that this affects Optimus and Megatron. And she's been a fairly wise and smart kid, and she knows for a fact that if Optimus and Megatron continue this trend: staying in this family, watching everyone grow old and die, it would cause them to break and further fall into insanity. She couldn't do that to them. So she asks them to go and find a way back home. To not stay with them. She wasn't going to put them through this much pain and suffering. They try to protest, but Rose brings up the way that they've been acting as proof of that. They've gotten so attached, and they were going to suffer mentally and emotionally for it. The two titans...ultimately end up agreeing, asking Rose for a final request from them.

Rose, smiling bitterly: Just remember me as I was.

They say their goodbyes to their Aurora, and return to hiding, trying to find a way back home to Cybertron. (Well really Optimus getting a chance to return home. If Megatron goes back, he'll be killed.) In the meantime, they have kept watch over Ymir's descendants, only interfering with their lives if they are ever in actual danger before disappearing again. And they are on the AOT world for over 2,000 years.

Enter modern day Armin, Mikasa, and Eren: reflections of their high school counterparts by Isayama. Optimus and Megatron's presence on the AOT world have caused them to become urban legends. Recorded sightings, videos, painting, stories. Hell, there's even a Buzzfeed Unsolved Episode about them. Armin and Mikasa are both extremely passionate about the topics and theories that have circulated online. Mikasa, thinks that this car is some kind of ghost or something supernatural (she calls Optimus the Ghost Car and Megatron the Demon Plane). Armin doesn't think that and thinks that they must be from the future. Aliens or even time travel. Eren, who's pretty boring as a modern day kid, thinks this is all bullshit. The photos were edited, cars can't drive on their own. The demon plane is probably just a prehistoric dinosaur. Eren, it was spotted in the 1800s!!!!

All of that changes when Eren comes across and alleyway on the way home, and sees a man next to a rusted red and blue truck. He's putting something inside, looks around, and Eren watches in disbelief as the man disappears into sparks. The truck then roars to life and Eren has to hide as it drives out of the alleyway. Eren immediately books it to his friends and screams "GUYS! I JUST SAW THE GHOST CAR IT'S REAL! HOLY FUCK!"

They end up having a serious discussion about the topic, with Armin and Mikasa interrogating Eren on what he saw, and the teen is still in shock. But Armin and Mikasa are arguing so much about it and whether or not it's supernatural or scientific in nature.

Armin ends up going to the smartest person he knows: Hanji, the croc-loving mad science teacher at their school. Hanji proclaims that they've also been investigating sightings of the Ghost Car and the Demon Plane. They love the name Mikasa gave the beings. And proclaims that the possible oldest recording of the Ghost Car was an early tale from Marley's history: the tale of the Savior from Heaven defeating the Devil of all the Earth. But unfortunately, there was never any sighting of a human with this Ghost Car. However, Hanji has noticed the car stops by the city once a month. Very punctual actually. They've tried to tail it quite a few times, but it's eluded them. Levi and Erwin think it's bullshit.

Levi entering and sweeping the room: It is bullshit four-eyes.

Hanji: It is not!

Armin gets the exact date, and the places Hanji spotted the car. Hanji asks to be notified if they find anything. Armin, Eren, and Mikasa make a plan for the next month and wait. It's an agonizing wait, but it's something that ends up bringing the trio closer together. But the day comes and they spring into action. They investigate the city and look everywhere. The car wasn't spotted. They finally check the last place, a scrapyard at night, and see the truck. They get excited and slowly approach it, but....nothing seems wrong with it. It looks like an ordinary truck. Armin does make a conscious note to take a picture of the Autobot symbol on the front. Then Optimus in holoform flashes a light at them and demands to know what they were doing here. They think they've been caught by authorities and try to explain, but Eren spots the scrap Optimus is collecting and remembers his face. He pulls out a be-be gun and demands to know what he is. Mikasa follows by pulling out some holy water and throwing it at him but Optimus is now annoyed and wet.

Optimus also disarms Eren while he's at it and decides to hold onto the bebe gun so he doesn't try anything. He tells them that he won't report them if they go home. Eren tries to get his gun back, but Optimus just grabs him by the arms and walks over before setting him atop the refrigerator. Armin manages to sneak a picture of his face as Optimus leaves. Mikasa and Armin help Eren down while Eren laments the loss of his gun. He used his allowance to pay for that. But Armin shows the evidence to Hanji and is delighted that they might have gotten this close. She runs the Autobot symbol online, but nothing about it shows up. It doesn't exist on Earth.

But I've decided to add this for fun to create conflict Starscream, who's been hunting Megatron for years now, managed to acquire enough money to hire bounty hunters to hunt Megatron down and kill him. They come across this world, see evidence of the Autobot symbol online, and Starscream tells Shadelock to hunt down the humans who took the picture for interrogation. Armin, Mikasa, and Eren are running for their lives from another ghost car, Optimus sees this, and decides, fuck it, I gotta save them. Optimus protects them from an attack and tells them to get it, but his holoform isn't on so they see the car is driving by itself.

Optimus: Get in!

Eren: There's no driver!

Optimus: GET IN!

The trio get in and Optimus is now driving in a high speed chase through the city to lose Shadelock. Eren's gripping to the seat for dear life, Armin is screaming, while Mikasa is praying to all the gods she can think of. They reach the outskirts of the city, and that's when all three see Shadelock transform and fire at Optimus. Optimus transforms and gets out of the way, but the trio are now exposed to a full on brawl. Optimus manages to injure Shadelock enough, but it's been so long since he's actually killed someone. Shadelock decides to cut his losses and runs once he sees that opening, and now Optimus is stuck with three kids. Optimus has no choice but to take them and figure something out. He contacts Megatron and Megatron sends a groundbridge to his location. The trio are taken through and are now inside the Cybertronian ship the two Cybertronians found all those years ago. Armin is fucking cheering, telling Mikasa he was right and there are no such things as ghosts! But then Megatron makes himself known demanding what happened, and the trio are now screaming at the sight of Megatron, who is now angry.

Megatron. Shut up. Shut up! SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Armin, Eren, and Mikasa: quickly shut their mouths.

Optimus: Megatron-!

Megatron: No! We had a rule!

Now the modern day trio is in witness two deity-roommates arguing over their presence on the ship and the fact that something called a 'Decepticon' was trying to kill them.

Eren: Can I get my bebe gun back?

Optimus and Megatron: NO!

Optimus does inform them that because a Decepticon was after them, they need to be placed under protection. So, they were going to be keeping watch over all three of them for the time being. At least until the threat is settled. The trio mindlessly agree, thinking its all a dream as they are bridged back to their homes, but they spot Optimus in alt mode the next day and they are freaking the hell out! Armin and Mikasa clearly want to call the police or the FBI or something! This is not what they were expecting! But Eren, who's never had anything exciting happen to him before in his life and has always desired for something to happen to say not to.

Eren: This is probably going to be the coolest things that ever happen to us in our known lives! And we're just going to pass up this opportunity to be among aliens?!

Eren puts his hand out to them: Fifty years from now, I'm not going to look back on my life and say that I didn't take the first step. That I didn't take the once in a lifetime chance to be part of something bigger. I don't care if I do this alone. I'm jumping in the deep end. What say you?

Armin and Mikasa think long and hard about it before placing their hands on top of Eren's, and Eren just has the biggest smile on my face.

(I really talk a lot about my ideas with @justawannabearchaeologist and @echoblaze5. But talking about it helps turn the gears of ideas in my head and keeps the ball rolling. So yeah.)

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k-dokja · 2 years

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Hii! I saw that your requests were open again and if it's alright with you, may I request a Johan fic where they just spend a lazy semi-peaceful day together? Thank yoi and I hope you have a wonderful day!!

Johan groaned in protest the moment you stirred awake. Instinctively, the arm he wound up around your waist tightened its hold. You could hear the tiny whine Johan made at the base of his throat, knowing that he’d have never done it had he been with a conscious mind. But half-asleep, Johan was nowhere near the image of the ferocious guard dog he always posed to be. In fact, you’d say he was closer to a clingy puppy, unwilling to let his main source of comfort and warmth go.

The thought made you smile a little, even if his unconscious needy side proved to be troublesome at times. You remembered there were nights when you had to struggle for escape from his vice grip. Even if you succeeded at that, there’d be no guarantee that other problems won’t follow. Once, you had stayed away from bed for too long, Johan was awakened by the absence of your warmth and began to search around the area for you.

He didn’t let you go for one second even after he found you, half-asleep as he was. When the two of you returned to bed afterwards, his earlier entrapment returned with both his arm and leg, making any other attempt at escaping without waking him a pipe dream.

Outside of that, however, Johan was a perfect angel in his sleep. Long eyelashes accentuating his beautiful features, softer in his sleep. Removing the perpetual glare alone did wonder to endear him to others. Yet, you couldn’t think of a situation where Johan would want to endear himself to anyone. Save for the times when he wanted you to cook his favorites or when he grew jealous of your attention to Eden and Miru.

It was those times that you could feel him being more honest to himself, even if he refused to admit that. Yet, all of it was unnecessary, you could never say no to him. Not when your heart sang for him the way it did every time he was around. You could pretend or try to resist it, but at the end of the day, it was always him that you longed for.

And the longer you looked at him, the less possible it was for you to resist what your heart wanted. Even without trying, his existence alone filled your chest with warmth. The giddiness you got whenever you were around him left you wanting for more, not only to stay in his arms, but to put your lips on him.

His cheeks, his nose, his chin, his jaw, his forehead. You wanted to pepper him in kisses and shower him in unspoken affection. And without any reason against that compulsion, you did just that.

Johan, too, awakened after the barrage of kisses you unleashed on his face. Each and every one you left was gentle, but the touches didn’t go unnoticed by someone who could notice the movement of your body in his sleep.

He groaned at first. Not in protest. But in the huffed way belonged to someone who had yet awakened enough to understand what was going on. And once he did, Johan seized your lips with his own. Perhaps, with more force than necessary.

He rolled you down on your back, greedily taking over your previous task in his own pace. His tongue found yours after a forceful entrance, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Not when he made that delightful moan against your mouth after your hand wrapped around his neck to keep him even closer.

And it’d be long after when you let go of him.

“Now that’s one way to wake up,” despite the slight hint of smile on his lips, his breath was ragged.

His mushed hair and flushed cheeks left him an adorable mess, but you guessed that you were no faring no better than him from the affection in his eyes when he gazed down at you. With the last bit of your energy, you lifted your head up to kiss him on the nose. And that alone had Johan collapsed down on you, his own battery spent.

“Mhm, let’s stay in today,” Johan mumbled, “it’s not like we have anything on our agenda anyway.”

At first, you wanted to protest against the idea of an entire day doing nothing. Yet, thinking back about all that he had been doing the past few weeks, you couldn’t help but wanting him to indulge in some resting time, and maybe more if possible.

“Yeah, let’s.”

After all, the world would still be out there by the time the two of you are ready to tackle it again.

#Johan seong #Johan seong x reader #lookism x reader #lookism #fics #ew this is so simpy

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somescenecatholic · 11 months

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ALL TUMBLR PPL PLEASE REPOST THIS ANYWHERE U CAN! THERE NEEDS TO BE MORE PROTESTS ABT THIS BC IT'S PRIDE! This can't go on for any longer. TW: p0l1c3, h0m0ph0b14, tr4nsph0b14

youtube

Qween Jean, a Black and Trans community leader was arrested at a PEACEFUL march for Trans Liberation on May 31st, 2023. AS SOON AS THEY GOT THERE there was lots of police and they arrested Qween Jean. I'm not sure if she's out yet as I can't find info on tht. On instagram it says to bail support at 7th precinct 191/2 Pitt St, New York, NY, 10002

This can't keep happening, there needs to be nationwide peaceful protests abt this!! Demonstrations need to be everywhere!!!! IT HAS BEEN 53 YEARS SINCE THE FIRST PRIDE PROTEST! I say protest bc PRIDE STARTED AS A PROTEST! It can ONLY be a parade when we truly get our rights. We can't celebrate until we see our victory. Like, our victory is in the bag bc good ALWAYS wins but we need to take ACTION!

ALSO, ANOTHER THING! NOTE HOW WHEN THE NYPD GOT KICKED OUTTA PRIDE, THEY STARTED ARRESTING AND STUFF! If they actually cared they would let this go on. They would actually do smth and hold their own protests for police brutality and etc to stop. Ik there are good police out there who are actually helping out the communities but lets be honest, the system is screwed up. There is far too much corruption. You KNOW it's bad when even little kids are scared of the police! No, not bc they may look intimidating. But because they are literally scared for their life. Same thing with guns. I was walking home from the bus stop when I was in like 6th or 7th (i forgot) and I thought I saw a gun in someone's car tht was parked in front of me and I was scared to the bone. Thankfully it wasn't a gun, it was smth else.

Anyways I'm getting kinda off topic. But yk what I mean right? (if u got any questions, do ask, my dm's and comments are always open! ^w^)

I'm just so sick tht the stuff tht should be in HISTORY BOOKS is happening right in front of my eyes. Like there have been sm protests and stuff against this for FAR, FAR longer than I have been alive!!! (Ik im only 16 but still this is a srs outrage)

It srsly sucks that this is the world I gotta grow up in.

SO THAT'S WHY WE GOTTA CHANGE IT!

Any action u do can help the world change fod the better. Never miss an opportunity to do good! (big or "small")

SOOO! If u can, go to a local protest! Try to put ur community first, yk? Also, reblog this post and spread awareness about these kinda issues. I'd love to go to a protest buttt I do not have supportive parents and I don't have a car. ALSO, remember tht every act of kindness counts. And dont just keep it to ur friends. Support good local businesses, give compliments to everyone u meet, cheer ppl up, listen to others, donate to GOOD, TRUSTWORTHY charities, do NOT give canned food to food banks bc they need actual food, so give them money, and give homeless ppl money too yk? Ppl are like "WHAT IF THEY SPEND IT ON DRUGS AND STUFF?" Well ofc yea tht's a possibility but who says they won't spend it on what they need? Yk? Basically be a good person, support queer ppl and poc ppl, etc. The world needs sm more kindness. People say "HAH friendship, love, and kindness is such a simple concept tht's not needed". The fact tht it's simple says everything. If we had more of tht, all these issues would cease to exist.

Also, another thing:

PROTEST SAFETY RULES!!

Take water and stay hydrated! If someone doesn't have water and u have some to spare, waterfall it.

Keep face masks and switch your phone to airplane mode. This is a surveillance country. They know how to find you. And if u take pics, make sure tht ur location is extremely hard to pinpoint.

If a police officer arrests u, know ur miranda rights and STAY SILENT AND BE CALM! They will use what they can to take it against u. You have to think a stairway ahead of them. They can't say anything if u don't say anything! And justice will be served so dw, God's with you. Also, yes u can say ur manners like thank you and excuse me.

Again, please repost this everywhere u can.

Remember,God loves u ALL, no ifs ands or buts. ACAB and love is love. Trans rights are HUMAN RIGHTS!!!!!

You matter and the right to speak and protest is a human right. This is our world and we have the power to change it!

(also please tell me if I got anything wrong in this post)

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theseasonthatchangedmylife · 11 days

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The Summer that Changed My Life

In the approaching days, I’d have the freedom to steer away whenever faced with such predicament, sparing myself from degradation, shedding the pursuit of validation from those who turn a deaf ear. The car keys become a ticket to escape.

I was 17s summer old when I joined a summer camp called Lakegreen. It was an insistence of my mother. It was strange that my humble mother urged me towards this camp. Of course, my old man had no say in the matter since he was gone as the per usual. Strikingly, the decision was solely hers. I was not against the idea; in fact, I was excited to be away from the city to enjoy observing the skies. The allure of escaping city lights to bask in the beauty of stars captivated me.

As a kid I wanted to major in Astronomy because it was a career where I thought I could go 'higher than dad'. However now it is just a hobby. Camp Lakegreen, a resort in a wooded landscape hugging a serene lake. The water, calm and glass clear by day, tranquil under the noonday sun, peaceful navy hue at night. The air was warm and dry, embraced by a nocturnal breeze.

A myriad of activities awaited us—canoeing, hiking, swimming, scavenger hunts, and indoor pursuits like poetry contests, arts and crafts, and tie-dye.

Amidst the joys, my friendship blossomed with Amy, a shy, fair-haired girl. Assigned partners by the counselor who oversaw our cabin, Peter, who also overlooked the futility of pairing two introverts. h-hello my name is Jane! ”…… hi”, said Amy

Our conversation was almost as scarce as the class O star. Our cabin housed two other girls from my school, with whom I was not fond of. Particularly Nevada—a proud snob, a year my junior. Amy’s aversion to Nevada became the catalyst for our growing closeness, a classic ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’ scenario.

On the second day, I signed for a poetry contest themed on summer. Despite my appreciation for outdoor sports, my heart found solace in stillness. I spent a day in my bunk bed writing a poem:

The Observing Season

When toes sink in the golden dust

And the blue seas wash it away

It is the time for the long rest

It is the time of the day

The new thrives and the old may rust

It is the time at the end of May

Lounger out for observing hours

Amateurs pack up tools to scour

"Shorter nights", they say to cower

Well, the warmer nights have the meteor shower

Time passed so fast, as nightfall arrived unnoticed. Eager to gather inspiration for the poem under the stars, I ventured outside my cabin into the woods.

Amy, just returning to the room, proposed a lakeside stroll. We got closer to the lake and took pictures with our phones there. The further we got away from the lake into the woods the warmer and slightly dry it got, but the strong breeze was comforting. Everything seemed fine until we saw Nevada and her friend smoking in secret. The second they got a glimpse of us, they threw the cigarettes away and fled the scene. While Amy and I were laughing at the sight of the mighty Nevada being scared, the cigarettes' butts started a flame which grew bigger despite our attempts to stop it.

'LET'S JUST RUN AWAY', said Amy. Let’s go before the counselor sees us!'

I shouted: 'Are you insane? I am not leaving until I put the fire out!'

'I am sorry I... I can't stay here any longer!'

Amy left, and I couldn’t quell the fire. Peter, armed with a fire extinguisher, arrived, averting a catastrophe. The next day,

the kids’ stared at me accusingly, and the administrators summoned me.

‘It was not me!’ I protested.

‘Jane, we don’t want to make this uncomfortable. You were the only one there,’ said Peter.

‘No, I was the only one who cared to stay!’

The administrator who cleared his throat loudly said: 'regardless of what you say, we thought it was the best to call your guardian over'

'What? I am telling you it wasn't me and if you ask Amy who was with m-'

'ENOUGH', screamed the administrator.

'The fire could have led to a serious tragedy had we not handled the situation fast', he continued: 'The parents are worried that there is an arsonist in the camp over rumors'

Tearfully, I defended my innocence, but my pleas fell on deaf ears.

‘Grab your things before your parents arrive,’ Peter declared.

"Parents?" it is only my concerned mom I bet.

Hours later, my mother arrived. Attempts to explain my innocence were overshadowed by her apologies to the administrators. I couldn't stand the sight of my mother humiliating herself like that. And for something I didn't do! It would have been better if I did it for real at that point. The car ride was stifled. I couldn’t stay silent, so I let it out:

‘Let me explain…I saw Nevada smoking then-‘

'I know my daughter wouldn't do such a thing... I have heard you the first time', mother said.

Her understanding helped calm the rage within me. Nevada, Amy, and the camp were forgiven in that moment.

Months later, my mother’s health deteriorated. She was diagnosed with cancer, she started taking chemotherapy, but it was not effective. Attempts at treatment proved futile. Eventually she was put in palliative care few weeks before she died.

My mother was aware of her condition long before my father and I, but she chose not to let us know. I couldn't stop thinking that she sent me to the camp so she can go through with the therapy in secret. “If only I ran with Amy that day instead of trying to be the hero mom wouldn’t have died” was the thought I couldn’t shake. I was not the same person anymore. That summer had changed me.

#Spotify #short story #creative writing

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five-miles-over · 2 years

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SFW Alphabet - Jaguar Villain!Tom Hiddleston

Trigger warning: mentions of violence and crime

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Tom might not be one for PDA, preferring to stick to hand-holding or keeping an arm around your waist during public outings. But behind closed doors? It's hard to keep his hands and lips off of you. He loves kisses, hugs, marking you with love bites, and making you scream his name in ecstasy.

Also, he loves to show affection by sending you expensive gifts like Godiva chocolates, exquisite bouquets, couture dresses, and designer shoes.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

It takes a lot of time to earn Tom's complete and earnest trust, but once you do, he will be your ride-or-die. He will do absolutely anything for you - whether it's to avenge someone who's attacked you, use his contacts to get you a position in your dream company, be your wingman when you have a crush, or even buy flowers for your grandmother's birthday. Just remember that he'll be expecting a favor (or more) from you, no questions asked.

The friendship might start with you being a new inductee into Tom's business, or possibly you being the close relative of one of Tom's associates. Perhaps you meet by chance at a public event, and Tom takes an interest in you. After getting information from his subordinates about you, he gets you alone and asks genuine questions about your background. And depending on how things go, he might meet with you more frequently and make himself look like the "good guy". Then one day, he asks you for a favor to test your loyalty to him. How well you do it determines everything that follows.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Tom does enjoy cuddling, but he will never say it out loud. He thinks that he'll get addicted and grow "soft" if he starts asking for cuddles. He wouldn't oppose you putting your arms around him when the two of you are in private, watching a film or having a rare day off.

However, if he's had a long night of killing/near-death experiences, he appreciates it so, so much when his partner holds him close and strokes his hair. It's one chance to get some much-needed peace and quiet. If you're lucky, you might hear a faint "I love you" or a "thank you" escape his lips.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Tom does want to settle down eventually, but he is very careful and tactical in waiting for the right partner. Someone who won't protest or actively oppose his work, someone whom he can trust not to betray him, someone who still has "sweetness" inside them, and someone who will love him unconditionally.

Tom actually knows a few basic kitchen operations like how to make spaghetti with tomato sauce, how to wash dishes, and how to sweep from his childhood. But nowadays, he just hires house helps to keep his residence(s) clean and organized.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Tom would probably break up with his partner for one of two reasons: either they put his safety in jeopardy (or betrayed him), or he believes that breaking up is the best way to keep his partner safe.

The breakup would be a simple letter telling you that ending your relationship was the best thing for the both of you, and that he wished you well in the future. Little did you know, however, that Tom already hired a subordinate or a private investigator to keep a watchful eye on you. Depending on the depth and the length of the relationship, Tom would certainly be heartbroken and privately mourn the fact that he cannot be with you any longer. It would be a long time before he can bring himself to move on from you, and until then, he'd try to bury himself in his work.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Tom understands the importance of commitment, and the benefits of having a great wife. But commitment isn't exactly the first thing on his mind - he's too busy with world domination.

That changes of course when he meets you. After several months of dating (and making out), he would buy you a swanky London apartment, under a pseudonym to protect you both. And from then on, he begins to take care of many of your expenses, keeping the fridge and pantries stocked with your favorites, the shelves full of your favorite books and magazines, and the bedroom decorated with things you like (including that one movie poster that makes him cringe).

And after maybe a year or two of dating, Tom would propose to you after a romantic candlelit dinner. Bearing a Harry Winston diamond ring, he would get down on one knee and ask if you'd make him the happiest man in the world by agreeing to marry him.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Tom can be described by many words, but gentle is not one of them. To most of the world he's one of the worst men alive. He keeps a stone cold demeanor, solely concentrating on executing his orders and plans in the most precise way possible (even if it involves taking several a few lives). To everyone, he doesn't care about the feelings of his subordinates and rarely changes facial expression (some even wonder if he blinks).

But for you? If you're feeling down after a horrible day, he'll hold you close and spoil you with ice cream until you're feeling better (after punching the living daylights out of whoever made you upset). If you're sick, he'll have the most excellent doctors taking care of you around the clock, and he'll remain at your bedside as often as he can. And when you're feeling a little playful, he'll laugh at your silly jokes and small pranks (even when he's the butt of them).

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

During formal business meetings, Tom usually likes to end things with a small, congratulatory hug.

But with you, Tom hugs you like it's the last time he'll ever hug you, holding you so close that he can smell your perfume and remember what his cheek feels like against yours. He hugs you when he comes to your flat after a long day/night, when he needs to leave for work, and even while you're doing work around the home.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

You might be the first to say it while dating him, and depending on his mood, he might reply with a 'thank you' or 'I know'. But deep down, he's touched, and reciprocates after some time. He might whisper it to you when you're half-asleep.

Or, he might cave and just profess his love for you after an incident culminates in a near-death experience.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Very, very easily jealous. If Tom sees another person flirting with you in his vicinity or comes to know about someone making a move on you, he wastes no time in dealing with them. After a few days, you might hear about the person getting into an "accident" or being "relocated".

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

If there's a height difference between you and Tom, he'll veer towards forehead kisses during everyday moments.

But over time, his kisses grow more passionate as he falls even harder in love with you. When you're alone, there's almost never a moment where his lips aren't on you - he likes to wake you up with a long, slow kiss, and give you another one when you

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

While he almost never thinks about having children of his own, he's fun with children when he needs to be, telling them fairy tales and playing hide-and-seek with them. He's also great with spoiling his associates' children, giving them sweets and toys during the holidays.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Depending on how things went the night before, Tom doesn't come home until four or five in the morning. If you're asleep, he'll crawl into bed and lay next to you, silently admiring your beauty. (unless he's in the mood, then be prepared to be woken up in a more…intimate manner) He'll politely greet you when you wake up, and have some tea prepared for the both of you. Sometimes, he'll join you for breakfast.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Depending on how busy he is, there are times when Tom is away for several days at a time.

But on the nights where he is home, he'll arrange for a special dinner with you either at your flat or at a Michelin star restaurant, surprise you with a small gift, and simply talk to you about almost anything you'd like. He isn't always big on going out at night (outside of work) but he enjoys things like attending a play or watching a film at the cinema with you.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He isn't one to open up very easily because he knows that trust must be earned. During your first meetings, he barely discloses anything about himself, calling himself a 'mere businessman'. But as things get serious between you two, he gradually reveals more things about his rough childhood, his family (some of whom are estranged), and the corrupt nature of his business.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Tom is easy to irritate (like if someone messes up his instructions), but it takes a while for him to actually lose his temper (shouting, firing bullets, and shoving things). And once he does lose his temper, no one is safe. It's basically Ragnarok.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Tom remembers everything about you including your favorite dessert(s), your favorite color(s), your favorite on-screen characters, your favorite suit of his, and your favorite tv-shows.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment was when you saw your first play together - a production of A Midsummer Night's Dream at the Globe Theater. Every moment of it was etched into his mind, from the moment he saw you in your favorite gown, the drinks and hors d'oeuvres you shared before the show, and the numerous times he proudly introduced you as "my love" to his associates during intermission.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He's very protective of you, always having one of his trusted subordinates keep an eye on you when he can't physically be with you. He'll have someone following you from a distance when you're at work/school, when you're out on errands, and when you're hanging out with friends or family.

He'd like to be protected by someone who isn't afraid to face authorities, someone who won't easily give in and spill valuable information.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Tom is very, very precise when it comes to each and every action of his, and dates are no exception. Everything is planned to the last detail. Not a thing is designed to be out of place.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Tom is absolutely ruthless when it comes to dealing with those who betray him, or are suspected of leaking crucial information of his. He is not afraid to use torture (waterboarding, sleep deprivation, solitary confinement, burning with concentrated nitric acid) to confirm his suspicions. And if he catches someone of his leaking information to the government? Instant death, and instant disposal of the murder weapon.

And he is willing to use brute force and ugly tactics in front of those whom he holds close, (including you) as if to send a message, "This could be you too. If you think that you can get away with betraying me, you're a fool."

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Over his years of working in the Underworld, Tom's developed a taste for glamor and curated his own style. He understands the importance of making a great first impression, choosing the right clothes to boost one's own confidence, and grooming oneself on a regular basis. So, he makes an effort everyday to look his best, and chooses colors/garments that please you when the two of you are having a special night together.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Depending on how long you've been together, Tom would dearly miss you on the days where he can't be with you. Though he would keep a calm, stiff upper lip during his operations, in the back of his mind he'd yearn to be at your flat, holding you close while some music or an old film plays in the background.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Tom is an excellent ballroom dancer and loves attending Shakespeare plays. His favorite comedy is As You Like It and his favorite tragedy is Hamlet, and his favorite of the "histories" is Coriolanus. He loves to serenade you with Romeo's monologues, like whispering, "See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand that I might touch that cheek!" while you lean against the window with your chin in your hand.

(Also, his favorite flower is the white calla lily)

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Excessive gossip or negative talk - like someone who constantly says bad things about other people behind their backs. The main reasons that Tom wouldn't like this are twofold: the first reason being that it doesn't convey a good impression about someone, and the second reason being that it would make him feel less safe. If this person is freely saying negative things about others to his face, what's the likelihood that they aren't saying negative things about him to other people?

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He sleeps three or four hours a night, and if he's alone, he literally looks like a corpse in a coffin. But if he's with you, he'll lay next to you with an arm draped across your waist and a small smile on his face.

Also, I'd like to ask a small favor of you, whomever is reading this. Tell me what name you would give Hiddleston's character in the Jaguar commercials, and I might use it when writing for him in the future.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston characters #jaguar tom hiddleston #jaguar villains #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston imagines #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you

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