I always think it's a little surprising, irritating, endearing, something when big, tough men find solace in being gentle with their daughters.
There's reason to do tough things with them, too, to make sure they grow up strong and independent, but I think of a man like Simon "Ghost" Riley, who spent a huge percentage of his life being beaten down consistently by almost all the men who were around him.
And sure, he trusts the men in his task force with his life now, no question about it, but... I think the sudden calm he experiences when he starts to raise a daughter is beyond strange for him, but also weirdly... healing, too. Enjoyable.
That's not to say he doesn't, and hasn't, enjoyed the boyish things in life, the watching sports, the playing in the dirt, the pretending to hold guns part of growing up... but he finds himself sitting through your daughter's ballet class, overwhelmed by the calm that surrounds him, actually able to focus on the intensity of her pliers, her releves, the way her pink skirt ripples when she leaps into a sauter.
It's a new realization, a new kind of war (between him and learning how to be a parent), but it's one that doesn't revolve around the consistent anxiety that warps his stomach when he watches boys, little or not, teeter the line between roughhousing and fighting, picking on one another for shedding accidental tears that, really, cause no harm.
With your daughter, he's set in charge of watching her play with her friends and finds there is no lump in his stomach when she giggles with them, no dark possibility drifting in the back of his mind that she'll reach out and get her arm broken by someone she trusts--the fights she fights with her peers all between the characters they play and not between their fists, their games of laughter and drama and screaming but not of raging violence.
There's people who ask him, people who joke, wouldn't a man like him prefer a son? He must've been so disappointed... Yet, Simon still has yet to think of the best way to tell them that he honestly enjoys having a daughter a little bit more, that she runs to him and not for a second is he afraid she's hiding a snake up her sleeve, because she's only ever greeted him with flowers.
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dozy | marcurio x reader
Someone nudges your shoulder. "Hey."
You jolt awake, and lift your head. After a few blinks, the blurriness in your eyes fades, and the familiar sight of the Arcaneum comes into focus. You look from the towering bookshelves, to the empty tables, then to the source of the voice in front of you.
Marcurio is frowning down at you, but there's a twinkle in his eyes. "Did you really fall asleep reading again?" He asks.
You merely blink at him once more, then look down. Sure enough, there are several books sprawled across the table you'd been slumped over on. Looks like you were in the middle of the 3rd volume of The Real Barenziah when you’d nodded off.
"Um..." Your voice is still tinged with grogginess. "N-No. I was... imagining the story."
Marcurio snickers. "And you snore while doing that?"
Your eyes widen. "... I was snoring?"
He doesn't answer, instead he pulls out the chair across from you and plops down in it. He begins to skim through the books on your table. "Let me get a good look at these. They must be terribly boring to knock you out like that."
You glance up at him. He doesn’t look tired like you. His eyes are warm and alert, and aside from a few stray strands, his hair is still neatly gathered at the base of his neck.
You ponder telling him the truth. The books aren't at fault - the previous sleepless nights are. Days upon days of tossing and turning were finally getting to you and you came down to the Arcaneum to lose yourself in some stories in hopes it would relax you a little. Perhaps it did , enough to finally get you to doze off, at least.
You swallow down the words and look around once more at the empty, quiet library. "What.. time is it?" It was a little after mid-day when you came down here earlier.
"Late. Very late." Marcurio sets down the last book and pulls them into a neat pile. "I overheard Urag complaining to Phinis about you and thought I should come check on you before he summons those atronachs he's always threatening us with."
You wince. "That would have been bad." When he chuckles, you look up at him and your eyes lock onto his. The nearby candlelight makes his brown eyes seem almost golden. "If it's as late as you say, why were you up?"
You can see him struggling to hide his smile as he holds your gaze defensively. "Studying, actually. Colette lent me some interesting Restoration tomes. Thought I'd read up on them before I start practicing tomorrow."
You don't hide your smile like he does. It warms your heart to hear that Marcurio is fitting in well here. He was your companion long before you stumbled across the College, and with all the things that have happened since you arrived, a part of you is surprised he hasn't left your service already. But his love for magic - and a little love for you, you hope - keeps him around, thankfully.
"Restoration, hm?" You fold your arms onto the table and rest your chin on them, looking up at him. "What spells, exactly?”
He opens his mouth, but then shuts it quickly and scowls at you. If there wasn’t a slight hint of amusement in those narrowed eyes, he would look almost menacing. "When I said late, I meant late. I'm not going to talk magic with you when you should be sleeping."
"I was sleeping."
"In your own bed, you idiot."
You stifle a snort. Your eyes drift close and you let out a dramatic sigh. "My bed is too far."
"It's... It's just up the stairs..."
"Exactly. Stairs. Ugh." You slouch further down onto the table. "I'm rather comfortable here."
Marcurio scoffs. "You won't be so comfortable when Urag's atronachs do come for you." You hear the scrape of his chair moving as he stands, then his voice is drifting to your side. "Come on, get up."
You merely grunt in disagreement. Your eyes are still closed. You can already feel the sleepiness coming back to you, making your brain fuzzy.
Marcurio gives your shoulder another nudge. "Hey, seriously. Am I going to have to carry you?"
"Yes." You say without any hesitation.
"Wha - no. I was joking."
"I am not."
Even though your eyes are closed, you can practically picture his brow furrowing. That adorable pout he does when he disapproves of something you ask - which is a lot of the time, actually.
"And here I thought my days as your pack mule were over!" He huffs.
You smile. He sounds further away than he actually is - the drowsiness continues to creep its way in.
"You're seriously going to stay here and let those atronachs get you?" Marcurio asks.
"Mhm."
He sighs. A long, heavy, exasperated sigh. "You are insufferable at times, Dragonborn."
Then, you feel his hand at your back. He grabs the material of your robes and gently pulls you back until you're no longer slouching forward. You open your heavy eyes and prepare to groan out another complaint to him.
His other hand moves down, until it's sliding beneath your knees."Come on, then," he mutters, with surprising tenderness to it.
The brief shock only lasts a second before you lift your legs so his arm can properly hook under them. With a grunt of effort, he hoists you up and off the chair. He pulls you close against his chest as he starts to walk across the library. The jostling movement prompts you to sling your arms around his neck for better support.
Warmth is the first thing you notice. Not just the warmth coming off of him as he holds you, but the warm, buzzing feeling that blossoms deep within your chest. You smile to yourself, eyes still closed.
Marcurio carries you out of the library and heads for the stairs. He's mumbling something breathlessly during the ascent - it sounds like "don't make this a habit".
Eventually, the stairs end, and he's pushing the large wooden doors open with his shoulder. He carries you into the Arch-Mage's quarters - your quarters, you remind yourself. You crack open your eyes just enough to watch the surroundings of the room move past as he carries you to the back, where your bed resides.
"Okay," he pants as he reaches the bed. He lowers you down, and the mattress sinks beneath you as you're set down upon it. "Here we are. Wooh - you're almost as heavy as dragon bones."
He says it lightly, an attempt at a joke. But you hardly hear it. You're too caught up realizing how cold it suddenly feels again now that he's let you go. You feel your heart constricting within your chest.
"Alright. I'm going to go and get some sleep. I highly suggest you do the same," he says as he starts to step away from your bed.
Your hand flies out and catches on the sleeve of his robe. "Wait."
Marcurio stops, turning back around. His eyes dart from your hand to your face. His puzzled expression meets your wide-eyed, nervous one.
You want to tell him the truth, that you can't sleep in this bed or this room because even though it's been days, Savos Aren's presence still lingers, and with it, the responsibilities of your new title. You can't get comfortable enough to sleep with all these unfamiliar items and tasks hovering around, knowing they belonged to the previous Arch Mage only days prior. You can't seem to settle in - not yet, not now.
But once again, the words catch in your throat. All you can muster out is a hushed, "Will you stay?"
You watch as Marcurio's brow knits from confusion to concern. His face softens, his eyes washing over with understanding as he looks back at you. He nods, a small but sincere gesture.
Relief floods in. You hadn't even noticed your heart had picked up speed until just now when it finally started to slow back down.
You scoot back as Marcurio settles down onto the other side of the bed. He's in more of a sitting position than a laying down one, with his back propped up against the headboard. He doesn't get under the covers, and neither do you. You don't want the warmth of them, anyway, but of him.
You scoot back forward until you're leaning into him. Almost immediately, his arms come around you, and just like before, they envelope you in his warmth. You cling to him, head resting on his chest, and close your eyes. You hear his heartbeat beneath your ear, steady and calming.
It only takes a few moments for the exhaustion to seep back into your body. But now, instead of feeling the haunting presence of the previous Arch Mage, you feel a cozy heat, and instead of the eerie silence, you hear rhythmic heart thrums and breathing. For the first night in days, you feel content - content enough to drift off.
Marcurio's hand sweeps gently up and down your back, and his grumble is close along your ear. "Of course I'll stay. But you have to carry me back down in the morning."
You're much too tired to laugh, but you do crack one last smile before you finally slip into sleep.
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do you have a favorite oc or one you relate to the most? :)
Thank you for the ask anon! You probably were not expecting this, but I actually have a MASSIVE catalogue of OCs. Tumblr allows 10 images so that's what I narrowed it down to. All images are labeled for the creator, but the characters belong to me.
OK! First up is my most well known OC. I made Sabine for my Alone Wolf Hellsing AU. If you've read the first story, then you know that she (spoiler) didn't make it to the end. I grew to love the character so much and the demand was so high that I started an alt end AU for my AU. If that isn't love then I don't know what is. Her son, Barrett hasn't been born yet in the story (new chapter is coming I promise) but I have big plans for him.
*art for an ask created by @crooked-incisors*
Next up is my cyberpunk cyborg Kade Pax. I just love their personality and design so much. Their story is tragic but has a happy end. I think. I really relate to Kade because of I also suffer body dysmorphic disorder
*ref by crooked for our closed universe*
Marianne Dubois is my plus sized, French Canadian final girl. I plan to write her story 'Road Kill' once I finish my Alone Wolf sequels.
*The art is mine. Slasher BF Steven Locke belongs to crooked*
Next up is another pair for the Slasher fandom. Flora and Veronica Galindo are WOC slasher twins. Flora is evil and manipulates Vero in the worst ways. I have a story for them that I would also like to write one day.
*art by crooked for our closed AU where they both get a happy ending*
*design of Veronica's Slasher look, Santa Muerte. Old art created by me*
One last OC from the closed universe I share with crooked (even though all of them are my favorite) My little yandere bimbo Bambi Dearie. She has... quite an interesting story.
*art by crooked*
OK! Now on to my Harem OC. Vral, Scourge of Delano is a savage hare barbarian. He's interested in fighting and fucking and not much else honestly.
*ref by crooked*
Bring in the clowns!
Mad Mage Meddle started a Kings of the Wild OC. It's a great book and everyone who likes fantasy should give it a read. I've considered using him for DnD, but since he's a chaotic evil user of body transformation magic that makes it a little difficult. Honestly I could go on about him so if anyone is curious shoot me an ask!
*commission*
Delilah the deadite clown is a very special OC for me. She was the first one I ever created way back in July of 2018. Happy Birthday!
*commission*
Last, I have Paisley. She was never going to be an OC. I actually just picked a name for a reader x fic that involved clowns, but crooked asked for details and thus Paisley was designed. She is very near and dear to my heart because of what she brought into my life ❤️
*commission*
And that's it! Honestly, I had a hard time narrowing down the list. I put a lot of care and pieces of myself into each and every OC I design. In a way they are all my faves 😅
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