#still haven’t thought of a good ship name for them
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toads-treasures · 1 year ago
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"You touch me like I am everything you asked god for. Underneath your hands I become poetry. This is the alchemy that you do."
—T. James
These two would either have the fanciest, the biggest the sappiest wedding Waterdeep has ever seen, or they would have the DND equivalent of a Vegas wedding. Maybe I’ll draw that version later.
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afroslacks · 2 months ago
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Hello! Can I request a one-shot or drabble—whatever you prefer? Could it be about the Sinners premiere, where the reader is seen with Michael and fans start to ship them?
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Today is one of the many premiere dates for your new movie Sinners. As you arrive at the premiere, your stomach ties itself in knots as the sound of fans gets louder.
“Are you ready?” your manager asks, looking at you as you smooth your hands over your dress to soothe your uneasy stomach.
“No, not really,” you reply, looking at your manager, who laughs before patting your back.
“Well, you have no choice, so get out there.”
Your mouth drops open at your manager’s callous attitude toward your nerves. He then pushes his hands out in a shop manager gesture.
“Rude,” you snort, before grabbing the limousine's door handle and pushing the door open.
The sound of screaming fans and media personnel becomes louder, causing you to pause in your attempt to exit the vehicle. You hate this part. Feeling overwhelmed, you exit the vehicle anyway. The driver holds out his hand so you can rise from the seat more easily without risking exposure and creating a viral moment.
“Thank you,” you utter quietly as you look around, taking everything in.
Your fellow castmates are talking to reporters and taking pictures in front of a Sinners backdrop.
“Don’t forget to smile,” your manager says from behind you, causing you to turn around and see them holding a thumbs-up. You shake your head before making your way onto the carpet. As you get closer to the cameras, you still consider turning around. But you continue anyway. Photographers call your name as you step into the spotlight.
“Look over here! You look gorgeous!” they shout. You wave and nod to let them know you acknowledge them. Then you begin to pose and stand still, letting them get their fill.
Unaware that Michael is watching you in that navy blue suit and his infamous grills. He stands there, frozen in time, rendered defenseless by your beauty. He has a longstanding crush on you. At his age, he can’t help it. Your characters play love interests in the movie, but he's always wanted something more.
You told him he’d have to wait until Sinners wrapped before either of you considered pursuing anything—keeping it professional and simple.
As he watches you, he notices you’re clearly uncomfortable. You’re usually good at hiding your anxiety, but over time he’s learned your signs. As you shift and pose, he sees you subtly rubbing your dress and placing your hands together.
“I think she’s a bit overwhelmed,” Wunmi says, watching you stand for the cameras.
“Yeah, I think I’m gonna jump in,” Michael replies without looking away from you.
“You should. Be really sweet to her, Michael,” Wunmi replies, watching him.
Michael steps onto the carpet and stands next to you. He leans into your ear.
“It’s alright. I’m here,” he promises, wrapping his arm subtly around your waist.
The paparazzi shout, “You both look amazing! Lovely couple!”
Michael laughs as your arm wraps around his back to tug on his suit jacket. You lean into his ear.
“Thank you. The cameras are too much for me right now,” you whisper, relieved that he noticed your struggle.
Michael looks at you and replies softly, under the chaos of the paparazzi:
“It’s no problem. I could tell. You were doing that thing—rubbing your dress and clasping your hands for comfort. So I stepped in to be your comfort.”
You hold eye contact, touched by his thoughtful behavior, wishing you could kiss him right now. But you value your privacy, and you both haven’t even had your first date. So you just stare—for now.
The paparazzi continue to snap photos in the background, but you don’t pay them any attention. You’re lost in his eyes.
A Week Later
You and Michael are enjoying dinner at a restaurant he rented out for the night so you could have privacy. You're sitting across from one another, enjoying the first course, when Michael suddenly says:
“Oh, I gotta show you something,” he says, pulling out his phone.
You finish chewing your food and wipe your mouth, waiting for him. Moments later, he pulls up a video of both of you on the premiere carpet.
“They’re shipping us now,” he explains, handing you his phone.
You roll your eyes at the internet’s quickness. “That’s because you make everything so obvious, Michael.”
Michael scoffs mockingly, placing a hand on his chest. “Me? You were the one who kept looking into my eyes. You refused to give me my face back.”
You wave him off with a flick of your hand. “Boy, finish your food.”
Michael laughs, takes his phone back, and you both enjoy the rest of your date.
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zorobff · 2 years ago
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how to disappear. (opla!zoro x fem!reader)
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synopsis: joining luffy’s crew made you believe that you’d finally escaped your former pirate crew and nightmare of a captain for good. that is, until a certain butler starts looking a little too familiar. good thing zoro’s keeping a close eye on you.
warnings: opla spoilers (ep 3), some direct dialogue from opla, mentions of verbal/physical abuse, kuro is just a weirdo tbh, reader is called a bitch, protective zoro, for the sake of the story sham and buchie joined the black cat pirates after reader left
word count: 4.7k
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“this guy is full of shit.”
you knock your shoulder into zoro’s wider one. “be nice. and so what if he is?” 
zoro gives you a pointed glare. “then we should turn around and look for someone who can actually help us find a ship.” 
“all business, as per usual,” you reply, with a purposefully dramatic sigh. “why can’t you have a little fun?” 
“what about this is supposed to be fun?” zoro spits out the word like it’s poisonous. “this is the blandest village i’ve ever seen.”
you scoff. “now you’re the one that’s full of shit. nothing’s ever bland with us and you know it.” 
the us in question was your newly formed pirate crew… if you and luffy could even be considered that. having left the ship you’d been on a few years ago, you were in search of a new crew. luffy was persistent and charming — when you’d crossed paths in shells town, it took little to no time for him to convince you to join his hunt for the one piece. zoro and nami, on the other hand, had yet to follow in your footsteps. 
“well, considering that we’ve only been traveling together for a day and a half and i’ve already escaped a marine base, defeated a marine captain, and fought a clown with devil fruit powers… i’d actually have to agree.” 
you can’t help but giggle at his sarcastic delivery. “be grateful, zoro. not many pirate crews are this fun to be on, trust me. oh wait, that’s right, you still haven’t officially joined—”
“tell me about your old pirate crew,” interjects zoro, your comment having piqued his interest. 
you notice that the playful atmosphere dissipates. “god, where do i even start?” 
zoro answers that for you. “why did you leave?”
“starting with the hard hitting questions, huh?” you joke, mostly to stall. you clear your throat before you answer. “well, it was different. nothing like what luffy has going on. he actually cares about his crew… and even those who aren’t technically on it.” 
at that, a smile tugs at the corner of zoro’s lips. even you crack a small grin. although as you continue speaking, it fades. 
“on my old crew, we were dispensable. anytime something went wrong, our own captain would threaten to kill us. it was… scary, to be completely honest. there were so many times when i thought i’d die with that filthy crew. and i never wanted that. so as soon as we docked at shells town, i left.”  
zoro’s jaw clenches as imagines the things you’d seen and been subjected to. “this old captain of yours sounds like a real—”
“he was a nightmare,” you tell him. “he didn’t care that i was the only woman on board, he treated me just as horribly, if not worse.” 
zoro stops so suddenly that it takes you a second to realize he’s not walking alongside you.
“what do you mean by that.” the way zoro phrases the inquiry doesn’t even make it sound like a question. more like a demand. his narrowed eyes are fixed solely on you. holding his gaze feels… intense. 
you can’t help but glance away as you answer him. “he was just a bit of a creep.”
before zoro has the chance to try and extract more information out of you, a familiar voice calls both your names. you’re not really sure when you and zoro had fallen behind but from where you currently stand, the rest of your group looks miniature. or perhaps it’s just the massive size of the mansion behind them that makes luffy, nami, and usopp look pocket-sized in comparison. 
“why’d you stop walking?!” your captain shouts, hands pressed on each side of his mouth to amplify his voice. “get over here, we’re about to go in through the top secret entrance!” 
you vaguely make out usopp gesturing for luffy to keep his voice down. you’re sure that would warrant another comment from zoro about his reliability but he’s too busy staring at you with that expectant look in his eyes. 
“we better catch up,” you tell him, heading in the direction of the deluxe home. 
he allows you to dodge the subject and sighs, walking in long strides to catch up to you.  
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“i’ve never seen a house this big before,” luffy admits, admiring the mansion along with the wellkept greenery surrounding it. 
“awesome, right?” usopp gloats, walking around like he owned the place. “kaya’s given me an open invitation to drop by anytime i want.” 
“wow.” you’re not sure if luffy was just going along with usopp’s act or if he really believed him. knowing the devil fruit user, it was more than likely the latter. “all this for just one person?”
“well, she lives here with her butler and a few other staff,” usopp replies, leaning against the stone well that sat in the middle of the lawn.
“money really shows you who people truly are,” nami mutters, eyes scanning the property. “most people only care about themselves and what’s theirs.”
zoro is quick to throw the insult back at her. “sounds like someone i know.”
you roll your eyes at his comment, though you make no effort to disagree with him. nami was a little on the materialistic side. 
“and a small staff makes for easy pickings,” she continues, proving your point.
“we just got here and you’re already planning on robbing the place blind?” you ask though you already know the answer.
“at least a little blurry,” she smirks, following behind luffy and usopp who walk toward the entrance. 
you and zoro share a look. one that says disappointed but not surprised. 
going under a shrub shaped as an arch, you’re met with a beautiful pond. you admire the pink lilies that float at the top and the bushes that were intricately trimmed into the shape of various animals. even if the people that lived here were filthy rich, at least they had good decorative taste. 
“so if you have an invitation, why are we going around the back way?” luffy ponders.
usopp’s answer is nonchalant. “oh, i never use the front entrance. like i said, this is the vip entrance reserved for special guests.”
zoro scoffs. “this guy’s definitely–”
“don’t start,” you groan, cutting him off. 
abruptly, usopp freezes and spins around, attempting to usher your crew back. “you know what, there’s actually a more exclusive entrance this way–”
the sharp swoosh of a knife cutting through the air and burying itself in the ground between usopp’s feet cuts him off. from the direction the kitchen utensil was thrown stands a heavyset gentleman with his face wrinkled in anger. his demanding voice booms through the garden, “the hell are you doing here, usopp?” 
the dark-skinned boy fumbles over his word. “buchi, buddy, uh, kaya’s expecting me.”
“another one of your lies,” the man – seemingly named buchi – seethes, grabbing him by the collar. “you ain’t welcome here and you know it.”
“i know nothing of the sort,” usopp retorts, keeping his cool even when he was practically being lifted off the ground by his shirt. “i’m here to give kaya an extra special gift.”
before buchi can get another word out, a feminine voice calls out for your companion. coming down the steps is a frail looking girl in a pink dress. on her arm is a man dressed in a crisp suit, presumably the butler usopp had mentioned earlier. though, from where you stand you can’t see either of their faces too clearly. 
“what a wonderful surprise,” she exclaims, breathlessly. 
“kaya!” usopp exclaims, returning her enthusiasm. buchi has no choice but to let him go, begrudgingly. usopp makes sure to shoot him a smug look before walking towards the young girl. “happy birthday.” 
the butler clears his throat, not afraid to intrude on their special moment. “usopp, we’ve discussed this before. you mustn’t show up unannounced.” 
“nonsense, klahadore.” kaya smiles warmly. “have you come to tell me another story? i do love hearing about your adventures.” 
“i’ll do you one better,” usopp smirks with such confidence that even you’re left wondering what kind of surprise he has up his sleeve. “i brought some of my crew!” he gestures back towards the four of you, proudly. 
your excitement vanishes. “oh. the surprise is… us.”
“well, that’s boring,” luffy agrees, just as disappointed as you are. 
kaya, on the other hand, is none the wiser. “it’s so nice to meet you. you must all stay for dinner.” 
klahadore lowers his voice. “miss kaya, it is a bit last minute. i’m afraid the kitchen hasn’t prepared for any extra guests.”
“please,” begs kaya, softly. “it’s my birthday. can’t be too much trouble can it?” 
giving in, klahadore purses his lips. “anything for you, miss kaya.” 
luffy claps his hands together. “alright! when do we eat?” 
“you don’t. not dressed like that, at least.” the butler directs himself to a staff member with teal colored hair. “sham, kindly show usopp and his friends to the guest suites. you will bathe and change before dinner.”
she follows his orders and leads the way. luffy, usopp, nami, and zoro trail behind her and you go to do the same. however, all it takes is a quick glance to stop you dead in your tracks. usually, you weren’t one to stare but klahadore’s face. that stare. so dark and depraved. 
“yes, miss?” he asks, holding your gaze. “can i help you?” 
“n-no, i…” your throat goes dry as you attempt to recover smoothly. “i just wanted to, um, thank you for being so hospitable.” 
his lips curve upwards into a sinister grin. “the pleasure’s all mine.” as if to confirm your worst fear, klahadore uses his palm to readjust his glasses. his beady eyes gauge your reaction closely.
the familiar gesture sends chills down your spine. appearance-wise, he had changed drastically but his aura was still just as menacing as you remember it. he was still the corrupt pirate captain you used to serve under. you feel like a weak and helpless subordinate all over again.
“klahadore!” giggles kaya. “you’re smiling! that’s certainly a rarity.”
he hums. “i’ve simply come to the realization that having guests once in a while can truly be a delight.”
his sickeningly sweet tone makes your stomach turn. just the fact that you were standing in front of him – captain kuro – again after all these years was nauseating in itself. last you’d heard he had died at the hands of captain morgan. how was this even possible? then again, he wasn’t dubbed kuro of a hundred plans for no reason. he always had a trick or two up his sleeve. you assumed this was no different. 
“hey, you comin’?”
you turn around to see zoro waiting for you. he meets your gaze for a moment. the softness of his eyes is a stark contrast to kuro’s. it’s a breath of fresh air. he then shifts his attention to your former captain and you swear his eyes darken. 
“yeah, sorry,” you mumble, trying not to look shaken as you walk up the steps. 
zoro follows behind you, this time closer than before.
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“why would anybody even need this many clothes?”
“it’s not about need with these people, luffy. it’s about want,” nami spits, thumbing through the various fabrics on the wall. 
“at least she’s rich and nice,” luffy replies, innocently.
nami rolls her eyes. “yeah, letting us stay for dinner must be her idea of charity work.” 
“what are we even supposed to wear?” luffy continues, uninterested in nami’s criticism of the rich. 
“anything you want. when are you ever going to get the opportunity to wear things this nice?” 
you step out from behind the changing board where you’d swapped out your old tee and cargo skirt for an elegant satin dress. it was a stunning shade of olive green and frilly lace decorated the edges. not to mention, it hugged your curves in all the right ways.
nami’s eyes widen. “see, she’s got the right idea. you look amazing.” 
you smile, bashfully. “honestly, i feel amazing.”
“you look the same to me,” your captain shrugs.
nami shoots him a death glare but you intervene before she can scold him.
“way to keep me humble, luffy.”
“no problem!” 
at that exact moment, a freshly showered zoro arrives donning a silk robe. he eyes the multitude of garments that cover every inch of the room, not particularly impressed. 
“there you are. don’t you think she looks nice?” nami asks him, gesturing towards you. she doesn’t notice how you shrink under zoro’s gaze. neither does he, as his eyes take their time raking over you, from top to bottom.
he hums. “suits you.” with that, he sets off towards a chair in the corner of the room.  
“seriously?” sighs nami, exasperated. “are you two physically unable to give compliments or something?” 
“hey, doesn’t that butler seem familiar to you guys?” zoro asks, promptly ignoring nami’s complaint. 
his question causes your breath to hitch. you’d pushed the kuro problem to the back of your mind while you were in search of a suitable dinner outfit. you figured that as long as your crew was by your side, he wouldn’t dare try anything. and even if he did… well, you’d seen what had happened to axe-hand morgan and buggy. 
“yeah, i think he was at the last dinner party i attended,” nami replies sarcastically, taking a handful of dresses behind the changing board. 
as he takes a seat, zoro grumbles, “i swear i’ve seen him before.” 
“where?” you can’t help but ask, fiddling with the lace on the neckline of your dress. 
“so far, i’ve got two suspicions. a wanted poster or funky bar on mirrorball island. you ever been?”
you know zoro’s teasing you, judging by the grin on his face. after all, funky bar was known to get insanely rowdy; never would he imagine finding someone as gentle as you there. but what he didn’t know is that it happened to be one of kuro’s favorite bars. per his request, you and the rest of the black cat pirates frequented it often, so he was more than likely right about having seen kuro there. he’d probably even seen you in passing, once or twice. thankfully, he doesn’t seem to have any recollection of that.
the thought of zoro knowing about your past forms a knot in the pit of your stomach. would he think less of you for having joined such a ruthless crew at one point in your life? what if it put a strain on the friendship you’d worked so hard to form? 
“i’ve, uh, heard of it,” you decide to reply, pushing down your worries for the time being. 
he tilts his head slightly, thinking out loud. “then again, i have seen a lot of wanted posters and bars in my time as a pirate hunter.”
you feel a grin creep onto your face. “probably more bars than posters, huh?”
zoro mirrors your smile. “shut up.”
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by the time dinner rolls around, the entire crew is doing what they do best. 
luffy is stuffing his face, nami is attempting to swindle one of the staff, zoro is hanging by the drinks, and you’re hanging by zoro. 
“hey zoro, you gotta try this!” luffy calls through a mouthful of food.
“i’ve got all i need right here,” he mutters, taking a swig out of his champagne flute. 
“you know, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you choke down something that isn’t alcohol,” you comment, watching the way he downs the glass in one go. 
dryly, he replies, “that’s because i haven’t.”
“very on brand.”
“ladies and gentlemen,” calls out that voice from the top of the stairs. “may i present… miss kaya.”
arm in arm, kuro and kaya walk down the steps, all eyes on the birthday girl and her stunning gown. well, except you. your eyes never leave the so-called butler by her side. your jaw clenches when he has the audacity to meet your gaze and hold it. shameless bastard. 
once they reach the bottom, merry leads kaya to the guests while kuro takes his post at the bottom of the stairs… right next to the drink table. before you can think about steering yourself and zoro away, kuro speaks.
“forgive me if i am speaking out of line, madam, but i must inform you. you look positively radiant,” he purrs, soaking in your appearance. he looks ready to pounce.
you can’t stop your eyes from rolling. good to know he’s the same pervert he used to be.
looking between you both and sensing your discomfort, zoro steps in. “and you look familiar.” 
kuro’s head stiffly turns to face him, eyes peeling away from you. “highly doubtful, sir.” 
“funky bar? mirror ball island?” 
“funky bar?” kuro repeats, disgusted. “well, i can assure you i’ve never patronized that type of establishment.” 
while it was amusing to see your highly esteemed former captain lie through his teeth, the tension between him and zoro was unbearable. 
“well then.” zoro continues with his little interrogation. “ever been on a wanted poster?”
you cringe at his bluntness. sometimes it seemed like he had less of a filter than luffy.
kuro puts on a scandalized face at the question. “sir! such an accusation is highly offensive.” tugging on his collar, he goes to remove himself from zoro’s probing. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to help prepare the dinner table.” 
he leaves, en route to the dining room. zoro’s eyes follow his figure until he disappears, squinting as he racks his brain for any further recollection of this suspicious butler. 
you sigh. if zoro was going to continue being so relentless, you were sure the night would end in bloodshed and uncovered secrets. 
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“keep this coming,” zoro demands, handing the empty wine bottle to sham. she takes it with a glare. 
“would it kill you to say please?” you ask, slicing the slab of fish on your plate into smaller pieces.
“the service here is shitty. why should i have to be polite?” 
you scowl. “remind me to never have dinner with you again.”
zoro turns to you with that cocky grin of his. “what if i asked nicely?” 
his quip makes your heart flutter but you manage to keep your composure. “you can try your luck.” 
before he can respond, usopp speaks up. “luffy, isn’t there something that you wanted to talk to kaya about?” 
luffy gesticulates enthusiastically with his fork. “oh, yes! usopp told me that you own the whole shipyard.” 
“well, actually, my parents founded the shipyard and merry’s been running the business since they… passed. but all that’s about to change. tonight, at midnight, i will become the sole owner.” she smiles somberly. 
“well, that’s great,” luffy says, raising his drink at her. “because we want to buy a ship from you.” 
“ah, i see. usopp mentioned that you’re sailors.” 
“nope, not sailors. we’re pirates!”
you’re certain at least three people at the table choke on their food, yourself included. 
“this ought to be good,” zoro mumbles behind his glass.
you’re too busy coughing into your napkin to chastise him for finding this entertaining.
“pirates?” kaya repeats, unsure of how to react. 
“yup! we haven’t sailed together for very long but we’ve already defeated an evil clown, raided a marine base, and taken down a captain with an axe! for a hand!” luffy holds up a fist, presumably to impersonate axe-hand morgan.
“sounds a lot like your adventures, usopp,” kaya says, turning to the brunette.
all he can do is laugh dryly. “yeah, that’s… that’s crazy.” 
“and we’re just getting started!” luffy continues, climbing up onto the table.
“someone put me out of my misery,” you mumble, looking down at your plate to ignore the secondhand embarrassment.
a tap on your shoulder answers your plea.
turning around, you find yourself face to face with kuro once again. “madam, a word please?”
“might i ask what for?” zoro cuts in before you can so much as think of a response.
kuro offers him the most forced grin you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing. “i’m afraid that is between the lady and i.”
the swordsman turns to you, scanning your face for any ounce of discomfort. “you okay with that?”
you inhale, figuring it was finally time for you to confront the darkest part of your past. it was silly to assume you would be able to ignore him throughout your entire stay here. besides, you were sure zoro, just like the rest of your crew, would be on standby if kuro got brave enough to try anything. “sure. just… keep an eye out.”
zoro understands completely. truthfully, you didn’t even need to ask – he always looked after you. “got it.”
you push yourself out of your seat and smooth out your dress. you allow kuro to lead you to the doorway – he was smart enough to know that was the farthest you’d let him take you. 
“what do you want, klahadore?” you seethe, folding your arms.
he arches a brow. “why must you call me that? it’s ridiculous.” 
you tilt your head with faux innocence. “oh? is that not your name? must have misheard.”
he gives you an irritated look, dark eyes drilling into you.
“i remember that look,” you mutter, your memory serving you well. “it’s the same one you’d give me before you’d threaten to slice me to bits with your claws.”
kuro has the audacity to chuckle dryly. “but i never did, did i? although there were certainly times times where i should’ve.”
“what you should be is dead,” you hiss bitterly. “when i heard the news, i knew it was too good to be true.”
“you wound me, kitten,” he drawls, reaching up to fix his glasses. 
the condescending nickname makes your skin crawl. it carried so many awful memories of your time spent with the black cat pirates. it reminded you of just how weak kuro viewed you — nothing but a helpless, pitiful kitten in his eyes. typical of the man that abused his authority and treated you with not a single ounce of respect. 
he continues, putting on a sweet tone. “after all these years, stuck waiting hand and foot on that spoiled brat, there’s nothing i’d love more than to hear my favorite crew mate say my real name.”
you snap at him. “i’m no crew mate of yours.”
he sighs, dramatically. “sadly, you’re correct. after all, you did slip off the ship the moment we docked in shells town. locating you on an island crawling with marines proved to be nearly impossible. we had no choice but to leave without you.”
“that’s exactly why i chose to escape there.” 
“and to this day i can’t for the life of me figure out why you would ever do that. why would you want to leave us? leave me?”
you actually laugh right in his face. “is it really that hard to figure out? you were evil. you threatened and harassed me on a daily basis.”
“so your solution was to join that ragtag crew?” he glances at the table. “it’s pathetic, even for you.”
you lean into his face, lowering your voice down. “i’m happier than i ever was on your shitty crew. every day i wake up grateful that i managed to escape you.”
you see that vein on his forehead bulge before he’s gripping you by the chin. “listen here, you little bitch–”
the shiny silver of a sword slides between you and kuro, coming to rest against his neck. his adam’s apple bobs as he gulps anxiously, releasing you. thanks to zoro’s sword, it seemed as if he finally remembered where he was. you were no longer on his ship, he was no longer allowed to treat you like the dirt he walked on. not without someone noticing, that is. 
“why don’t you step away?” zoro offers simply.
that much was a kindness. usually those who found themselves on the end of zoro’s blade(s) weren’t lucky enough to receive a warning. however, the swordsman didn’t wish to cause a scene. at least not when you were right there and everyone was watching with shock from the dinner table.
kuro obliges, stumbling back. he meets kaya’s horrified eyes, feeling ashamed that he allowed his act to slip. surely this would cause some setbacks in his plan. with no excuse for his uncharacteristic behavior, the raven haired man scurries away and up the stairs.
zoro turns and locks eyes with luffy, giving him one singular nod. luffy returns it, jumping out of his seat and going after the butler. quiet murmuring breaks out at the dinner table, everyone surely confused. 
sheathing his sword, zoro directs his attention to you once more. “are you alright?” a calloused hand comes up to grip your chin, much like kuro had. however, this time, the touch is gentle. loving, almost. you welcome it.
“yeah, i’m… fine.” your heart is beating out of your chest and it has everything to do with your close proximity to zoro.
he tilts your face around, inspecting every inch of it. once he finishes, he pulls back. his demeanor goes serious once more. “we need to have a talk.”
you nod. “i know. i’ve been keeping some things from you guys and–”
“just tell me what’s been going on,” he demands. “and don’t overcomplicate it. you can be straightforward with me.”
his sincerity makes you start over, this time far more candidly. “klahadore used to be a pirate. i was part of his crew. he was my… captain.”
the shame in your voice pulls at zoro’s heartstrings. didn’t you know there was no reason to feel guilty with him? “is that it?” 
you open your mouth to speak but come up empty. all you can do is furrow your eyebrows at his unexpectedly dismissive reaction.
“i knew it,” zoro continues, annoyed. “i knew i’d seen him on a wanted poster before. just didn’t have any proof.”
“wait, so you don’t– you really don’t care?” you ask, still avoiding eye contact. “me being a former black cat pirate doesn’t bother you?”
he shrugs. “you said it yourself. ‘former.’ all that matters is that you got the hell out of there. and away from that creep. would he always put his hands on you like that?”
you blink a couple times, sighing. “his temper was really bad so–”
that seemed to be enough for zoro. “i’ll kill the bastard,” he hisses. “wanted to slice him to bits the moment i saw him grab you.” 
though it’s a violent threat, you can’t help but smile. the idea of zoro being so protective that he’d kill a man just for touching you made you blush. pirate love language, you suppose.
“well, i wouldn’t have stopped you,” you tell him, more than ready to see your former captain go.
zoro clicks his tongue. “nah. could’ve stained your new dress with his blood. i never would have been able to forgive myself.”
“so you do have a soft spot,” you tease.
“only for pretty things.”
“do you mean me or the dress?” 
now it’s zoro’s turn to become bashful. though, his lack of response is an answer in itself. you can’t help but giggle. 
a loud bang from upstairs interrupts your moment with the green-haired man. you assume luffy had gotten his hands on kuro… or vice versa. zoro must be thinking the same thing judging by the way he instinctively rests a hand on the handle of his blade.
“you should go up there,” you tell him. “i’ll stay with kaya.”  
he gives you a nod, though he doesn’t make any effort to leave. he stands there like he wants to say something… or do something. before you can think about it too much, you pull him in by the collar and crash your lips onto his. they’re slightly chapped and taste like the wine that’d come from the cellar – it’s pleasant. his large palms come to rest on your lower back; his hold feels tight and secure. 
when you finally allow yourself to pull away, you’re biting back a smile. “kick his ass for me.” 
“will i get more of that if i do?” asks zoro, wetting his lips. they now taste like the cherry lip gloss you’d borrowed from kaya. he takes a step forward, attempting to close the gap between you two once more.
you shrug, pushing him away by the chest. “go help luffy and we’ll see.”
you both know that means yes.
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canthelpit0 · 1 year ago
Text
Fake?
Pairing: Matt sturniolo x Reader
Word count : 3.2k +
Summary: matt and reader have known each other since forever. And they’ve been attached at the hip since forever. But what happens when they start to just let everyone think they’re dating, since it’s too hard to convince them otherwise anyway..
Warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, (sort of) fake dating, use of y/n, sweet talk, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, baby, etc.), gentle sex, oral fem!Reciving, unprotected, creampie, 2nd person.
(A/N: sorry this is actually so short. But I wanted to write something more fluffy for Matt.)
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Being childhood friends with the triplets there was always something going on in your life.
You and Matt have been tied at the hip since you were just babies. And sometimes it felt like he was more dependent on you than his own triplet brothers.
You were always together, hanging out. Good thing you were neighbors.
Back when you were younger it was even worse. You’d always sleep in the same bed. Whether at his or your house, you were always snuggling into each other.
You’d hold hands whenever you went anywhere. You made his anxiety better.
You were always there for him. And always being there for him, you were there for his first panic attack. You didn’t know what to do, but just your presence made him calm down faster.
How close you were was questionable, It was cute when you were kids, but you were both seniors in high school now.
Obviously, you were best friends with Nick and Chris too. Yet with Matt, it was different.
He was popular around school. Well not really him. But he was known because he is a triplet. Matt out of the three of them was the most introverted so naturally, he seemed the most mysterious.
Most people also thought you two were dating. And you did nothing to stop them from thinking that. After all, why would you care about what they say?
Matt was currently pacing around in front of you though. You were sitting on your bed, propped against your headboard, as you just watched him move around.
Contrary to popular belief, The most you and Matt had ever done is kiss. And that was only because you got dared to in middle school. And it was only one time.
“C’mon y/n/n please” he whines dramatically. Matt comes over to your bed draping his upper body across your legs, his hands are clasped together dramatically.
“It’s like we’re already dating anyway.”
Matt and his brothers have a shared YouTube that they started recently, about being triplets. You have featured in it plenty of times.
People were shipping you and Matt. And people in real life also thought you were dating.
So Matt being scared to be shipped with other content creators, or any girl he was around, wanted you to pretend to be his girlfriend.
You wouldn’t even have to change anything about the way you act, really. You two already act like a couple.
“Matt” you sigh your hands finding their way to his hair. You card through it gently rubbing his scalp.
“Y/n/n please” he begs again. His upper body is draped on your legs. His lower body is kneeling on the floor next to the bed.
Matt didn’t like being shipped. But he’d been shipped with you all his life. And if he had a ‘girlfriend’ people would stop getting into his business.
“Okay” you give in. Because of course, you do. This is your long-time best friend. You can never say no to him.
He perks up. “Really??” He sits up on his knees on the floor. His arms are still draped across your lap.
“Yeah, but what does it In tail ?” You ask slowly with a slight smile creeping up your face at the way he reacted.
“Nothing, we just say we’re dating” he shrugs. You already acted like it.
“Y’know and maybe kiss sometimes” he shrugs with a slight smile. He wasn’t going to kiss you every time you were on camera, that’d feel forced. He was just gonna kiss you whenever he felt like it, and use that as a way to show affection.
“Nothing we haven’t done before” he adds jokingly.
In a rush of boldness, you pull him up by his shirt and pull him towards yourself. He gets on top of you with a teasing smile, and your lips crash together.
It’s a sweet normal kiss, there are no sparks. It’s just a simple press of lips.
Once he pulls away you chuckle. “What’re we gonna tell Nick and Chris?” You question. “Are they gonna know?”
“Just let them think we’re dating too, I'm pretty sure they’re already convinced” Matt chuckles looking down at you fondly.
He gets off of you, rolling to the side of your bed. He pulls the covers up and gets underneath. Matt pulls you down too, so that you’re lying snuggled up in his arms.
★ ★ ★
So that is how you two started dating. And that was two years ago now.
At that time they’d only had around 20k YouTube followers and way more on TikTok. And now they were at 6 million.
You were also a YouTuber and TikToker now. Except you post whenever you want to.
You’d moved out from Boston to LA with them because, oh you’re still Matt’s girlfriend.
You have your own bedroom. Though you don’t use it very much. You’ve always loved sleeping in the same bed as Matt, cuddling all night, and that never changed.
People believe you’re dating. Which was the whole point. Even your families do, with no suspicion at all.
Except what nobody knows, is that you and Matt have never done anything further than make out. Even with two years of dating. You just never cared to really.
But you did everything else, cuddle, share sweet kisses, go on dates, hang out, and be close to each other.
It was almost like you were actually dating.
And the reason why it lasted so long with barely any problems, was because you and Matt never had an eye for anyone else. It was always you two against the world.
You and Matt were sitting on the couch watching some Netflix show. Nick and Chris were not home, they were at some influencer party.
Suddenly you turn your body and get on top of Matt. You leave a long kiss on his lips, catching him off guard.
“Matt.”
He looks back at you as you sit there straddling his lap. His hands snake to your waist to hold you. Your hands resting on his shoulders.
“Mhm?” He hums in response.
“You know how we’ve done almost everything a couple would?” You ask slowly.
He raises an eyebrow at the statement but nods.
“How about we-“ you cut yourself off for a moment. You click your tongue thinking of how to word it. “Can we fuck?”
That catches Matt off guard. Since it’s once again not what he expected. He pauses looking at you with a raised eyebrow.
“You want me to fuck you?” He asks again seeing if he heard that correctly.
“Yes please?” You say slowly. But before you can question if it was a smart idea to ask that or not, he’s already lifting you and carrying you to your shared bedroom.
He throws you onto the bed gently. You tell at the impact but before you know it Matt’s lips are on yours again.
He pulls away for a moment to swiftly pull his shirt over his head and throws it away. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but this was different. This felt… sensual, almost.
He gets on top of you, as you lay in the middle of the king-sized bed. He showers you with kisses, slowly trailing his kisses to your jawline and neck.
You can feel him suck on your collarbone leaving a Purple bruise. Your breath hitches as you start to feel his hand start to run over your side.
You keep looking up at him through lust heavy eyes. You watch his every move anticipating what he’ll do next.
“Want me to make you feel good sweetheart?” He teases, his tone ever so soft.
Ever since you’ve known Matt was a romantic. Almost even a hopeless romantic. But maybe it was you all along.
“Please” you breathe out. Matt pulls away slightly his eyes looking over your face. He looks fond. Like you’re the best thing to ever have happened to him.
He starts to tug on your shirt. “Can I?” He whispers. This entire thing feels so incredibly romantic and loving.
You nod, shifting slightly to let him take your shirt off.
Once his eyes fall on your bra he smiles. He smiled fondly like this was all he had been waiting for all his life.
“You’re so gorgeous.“
He mumbles under his breath. His kisses go back to your collarbone, leaving even more love bites on it.
“I’ll make you feel good sweetheart, I promise.” He smiles. He places a sweet peck on your cheek before he starts to trail them down your body.
Once he reaches your pants he tugs on them lightly before you whine out an agreement.
As soon as it’s off he starts to admire your half naked body in front of him. Matt perches between your thighs leaving a teasing peck on your clothed clit.
“Please” you sighs. You push yourself back on him. Matt chuckles at the movements. He pushes you down by your hips.
“Patience honey” he chuckles teasing you by kissing up your inner thighs. He was purposefully not stimulating the part you needed him the most.
“Matt please” you whine throwing your head back on the bed as you wait for Matt to do something, anything.
“Look at me baby.” He hums softly kissing up your inner thigh. He rubs your thighs slightly while you pick up your head to look back down at him.
You groan dramatically. “Matt”
The way Matt looks between your things like that only serves to make you even wetter.
He chuckles finally starting to pull your panties off gently. He slides them off and throws them across the room. Be careful not to put any pressure on you.
He smiles down at you. Matt sits up between your legs. “How about we take this off yeah?” He hums. His hands trails over your bra. You eagerly lean up to give him access to take your bra off.
He also threw that across the room.
You sigh, laying back down dramatically. Your chest moves at the impact of you laying back down.
Matt eyes lock on your chest
He smiles fondly. He takes one of your tits in his hand starting to fondle it gently.
“You’re so gorgeous, baby” he smiles leaning down for a moment to kiss you, and then trailing his kisses down your throat and between the valley of your breasts.
You let out a soft breath feeling his lips press against all these sensual places.
“Matt please. Come on” you whine dramatically laying flat on your back waiting for him to do something. Anything.
He chuckles, deciding to speed up the teasing. He places himself back between your thighs. Matt then pulls your leg over his shoulders.
“I wanna make this memorable for you.” He says. But before you can respond he licks a bold stripe up your pussy.
You gasp at the feeling. You close your eyes briefly and then look at him.
Before you can complain about the lack of contact, he leaves a kiss on your clit before starting to suck on it.
His groans were sending vibrations through you. he was sucking and swirling his tongue, lapping up your juices. He was eating you out like you were his last meal.
You were chanting his name like a prayer while he just kept vigorously eating you out. Your hands stay tangled in the messy waves, you gently tug on it.
Until without warning you felt his fingers plunge into your tight aching cunt. You feel him start to move them as you feel yourself get closer to the edge.
“Matt- im-“ you get cut off by a moan when Matt curls his fingers at just the right spot.
His eyes stay focused on you. He watches you with a sharp gaze. Watching the way you react.
His movements speed up even more. And before you can warn him you feel the knot in your stomach snap.
He continues to eat you out, lapping up your juices, until you calm down. He licks a final stripe up your pussy watching you shudder at the slight overstimulation.
You tug at his hair and he finally comes back up with his chin coated in your juices. He wipes his chin off with the back of his hand, grinning.
“You’re doing so well for me princess.” Matt smiles leaning down and pressing another sweet kiss to your forehead.
“Matt, please fuck me.” You breathe out. You’re tone begging.
You’ve known Matt all your life. He was your childhood best friend. The guy who you’ve been fake dating for years now. The guy who treated you like a princess, despite your relationship only being for show.
And yet all you wanted to do right now is be with him. Be as close to him as possible.
In hindsight. All of this was inevitable. You’ve always been a little too close, a little too touchy. You’ve always known too much about each other.
That was the reason why most of your, and his other relationships didn’t work out.
“ ‘Corse sweetheart.” He smiles, unbuckling his belt and swiftly removing his jeans.
His dick is big. And that’s not even exaggerated. it was bigger than you expected. But it somehow made sense for him.
The tip was the same rosy color he had on his blushing cheeks. It wasn’t too vainy just the perfect amount. You knew from the size that it’d mildly hurt.
You whine at the feeling of him sliding his cock through your soaked folds.
You feel Matt gently push in. You throw your head back at the feeling making sure to keep your eyes on him.
“Fuck you’re so big” you breathe out. Only his tip was in, but the girth was enough to have you drooling.
“I’ll take it slow, honey” he looks down at you fondly.
And all that fake dating, fake love thing you guys have been doing for years was starting to feel just a little too real.
Once he fully bottoms out he sighs. He doesn’t move for a little, letting you get used to the feeling.
“You can move” you mumble under your breath.
“Your wish is my command princess” he jokes slightly. Matt starts to thrust in and out of you. His pace is gentle and slow.
And with the way he is leaning over your body, keeping the eye contact, it seems so loving and sensual.
“Oh my god Matt-“ you throw your head back, your eyes closing.
Matt was just looking down at you all fond and loving. He looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world. The only woman whom he cares for.
“Fuck- I love you” you breathe out. Without even realizing what you were saying. You’ve said I love you to each other so many times. Yet all those times it was for show or meant platonically.
But this. This was not. You were in love with your best friend. The guy who you’ve been sort of fake dating for two years.
“Oh? do you?” Matt replies teasingly.
He leans down starting to kiss down your neck once again. And the feeling of that only makes you even more aroused. Your breath hitches when you realize what you’d just admitted.
Before you can panic though, Matt starts talking.
“I love you too”
He wasn’t slowing down. He didn’t seem phased by the confession. Like he knew, or was expecting it.
“Do you?” You breathe out.
Matt pulls back slightly. He looks down at you as you timidly open your eyes again. Your eyes lock on his once more. He stares at you with all the love and lust in his body.
“I should’ve told you earlier.” He admits. He lets out a slight laugh at the idea.
His eyes trail your body. Admiring every curve and feature you have.
“It’s okay.” Your eyes are half-lidded, watching him watch you. “Are you mine now? For real?”
“I’m all yours, princess”
And that sentence alone had you rolling your eyes into the back of your head. the way he was talking mixed with the sensual thrusts he was giving. It all felt so good.
It just felt so intimate and loving.
He leans down again his lips capturing yours.
You sloppily kiss back. His thrusts remain deep and sensual.
One of his hands moves to your breast again starting to fiddle with it, occasionally flicking the nipple.
He pulls away from the kiss. He changes hands giving just as much attention to your other breast.
“You wanna come for me baby?” His tone is light and teasing, but laced with so much lust and affection.
“Please”
He smiles pulling himself up. He yanks your legs over his shoulders, readjusting. He starts to harshly thrust into you.
The new angle making him hit deeper. He was hitting every spot in you, making you weak in your knees.
You whine and moan loudly, not bothering to keep quiet since no one is home. You chant his name like it’s the only thing you can think of- which it is.
His breath is sharp too, he lets out occasional groans which send tingles to your core.
He sounds so good.
Matt’s thumb finds its way to your clit starting to rub in it harshly.
“You’re squeezing me so tight honey.” He lets out a harsh breath.
You can only whine in response. The feeling of him drilling into your cunt is overwhelming. You feel like you couldn’t talk, even if you tried.
“You gonna come?” He huffs starting to pick up the pace, both with rubbing on your clit and fucking your cunt.
You feel the intense pressure of the knot, ready to snap in your stomach.
“Let go for me.”
As soon as the words leave his lips you feel yourself clench against him. your eyes close as you feel your orgasm wash over you.
He keeps thrusting into you, fucking you through your orgasm.
“Can I come in you?” Matt breaths out. And all you think to do is nod. You were on the pill, but Matt was gonna take the safe route and ask before he did it anyway.
As soon as you nod you hear his sharp breaths. His hips speed up. The sound of your lewd wetness and the sound of skin slapping is echoing loudly.
His hips start to stutter until he finally slows down.
He collapses on top of you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
Matt keeps himself inside of you. You feel the way your combined juices leak out of you. You feel the warmth and closure of his body.
He pulls back again. He looks down at you. “So does this count as our new actual anniversary or are we gonna use the fake one?” He says his tone is half joking.
He had that goofy, almost giddy smile on his face. And his smile was making you smile.
“I don’t know we can have both?” You suggest.
After a moment of just staring, admiring each other he pulls out slowly so as to not hurt you.
He stares down at your pussy for a second. Looking at the way it looks all filled with his seed.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” He smiles. He bites his lip when his eyes finally meet yours again.
“Can’t leave your pussy like this.” He teases, stealing another quick peck from your lips, making you smile.
Masterlist
(A/N: again sorry this is kinda ass, but I rlly like the concept 🫶🏼)
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolols
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mokulule · 2 years ago
Text
Take Out for Dummies - part 1
Ship: Dead on Main
“Excuse me?” Jason asked in disbelief.
“How would you describe your ideal date?” the man repeated the question calmly as if he hadn’t snuck up on Red Hood on a rooftop in the middle of the night and didn’t have two guns pointed at him by said surprised vigilante.
Jason had no idea what to think, it was absurd. Only one thing made the smallest bit of sense. After all some reporters would do anything for a story.
“Is this an interview for a gossip magazine?”
The man blinked. “No, this is for personal use only.”
Okay. That was even weirder. With that thought he holstered his guns, grabbed his grapple instead and jumped off the building. He could move his patrol elsewhere for tonight.
Oo o oO
It had been a few days, the strange encounter forgotten about as he’d quickly come across a shipment of unsanctioned drugs entering his territory; Black Mask was making moves towards Crime Alley again. Red Hood had to nip that bullshit in the bud. Just because he was more vigilante than crime lord these days didn’t mean he’d gone soft.
So, Jason had forgotten about the strange man on the rooftop and was wholly unprepared when once again he was standing on a rooftop taking a small break in his patrol and someone spoke:
“So I assume dinner is out what with the whole helmet deal, but what about chocolate?”Jason spun around heart in this throat, guns pointing towards the direction of the voice. It took a moment for him to even find him. This time he was sitting on top on the slanted roof of the stairwell.
“What the-“
“A box of chocolate could be enjoyed later, would that be a suitable gift?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“Too many things to remember off the top of my head.” The man jumped down and walked towards Jason, once more showing his absolute disregard for the guns pointing at him.
“Do you have a death wish?”
That for some reason brought a smile to his face.
Somehow, Jason was the one taking a step back despite being the one holding the guns. That at least stopped the man’s advance and he raised his hands in surrender.
“Sorry man, I guess this whole showing up on a rooftop in the dark is kinda creepy.” He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “It’s just with you being you, I don’t know where else to catch you.”
Jason felt an incoming headache, and he was feeling increasingly silly pointing his guns at the man when he didn’t react to them at all.
“How about you explain who you are and what you want?”
“Oh!” He slapped his forehead as if he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. “I’m Danny, and I’ve been hired to take you out.” He smiled brightly.
Jason stared in disbelief. Who in their right mind just announced they’d been hired to kill someone, to the person they intended to-
No…
It couldn’t be…
He’d been asking about dates and chocolate. He couldn’t possibly have misunderstood take out Red Hood as take out Red Hood on a date. Nobody would be that stupid…
“Why would someone hire you to take me out on a date?”
Danny, if that was his real name, shrugged. “Maybe they thought you were stressed and needed a nice evening? I don’t know. I don’t ask questions. I just do odd jobs for money, keeps the lights on, you know?”
Jason didn’t respond. He couldn’t believe this.
“And like this job pays extremely well for some reason, so like I’d like to do a good job of it hence the questions?”
Of course it payed extremely well, it was meant to be a freaking hit! Still could be of course, but then it was the oddest way to go about it that Jason had ever experienced and he’d taken out quite a few would-be assassins in his time.
Danny’s face fell at Jason’s continued non-responsiveness. He sighed. Then brought out a notepad and scribbled something down, before ripping off the paper and holding it out to Jason.
“Look,” he said, when Jason made no move to take the paper and still just kept his guns trained on him, “here’s my number if you change your mind. If you haven’t called back in three days, I’ll return my advance and tell them I can’t do it - no matter how sad I’ll be to see that money go.” He looked pained at the admission, but then looked back up at Red Hood with determination.
“Still please reconsider, Mr Hood, I promise I’ll show you a good time if you agree to a date.”He looked expectantly from his hand with the paper to Jason’s helmet. Jason sighed. Holstering his right hand gun he took the paper. It was indeed a phone number, above the number it said Danny with a little smiley face drawn after the name.
Danny’s face brightened into a smile.
“Have a good night then Mr. Hood, I hope to hear from you.” Danny walked backwards with a wave and promptly tripped on an empty bottle someone had left.
“Woah!” His arms windmilled and he only just saved himself from falling back and hitting his head by sheer luck as he caught himself in the sort of gravity defying pose that would win him most limbo games. He laughed sheepishly as he put a hand down and turned around to push himself back up.
“So that was embarrassing. Should look where I go, huh? Never know when you’ll be assaulted by littering…” his voice trailed off as he walked away. He threw a last wave over his shoulder before jumping onto the fire escape and beginning his climb down.
Jason was left standing on the rooftop, paper clutched in one hand, trying to comprehend the whole baffling conversation. Also there was a distinct curl of embarrassment that he’d actually felt threatened by the guy at one point.
Yeah, he wasn’t gonna unpack that. He put the paper in a pocket of his utility belt and took a running leap to the next rooftop.
Oo o oO
Jason could not believe he was actually doing this.
It was three days later. In the mean time he’d asked around his old enforcers if they heard about a guy named Danny who did “odd jobs” as he’d called it.
As it turned out, there was indeed an odd-job-Danny, sometimes just called odd-Danny, with an increasing reputation on the streets of Gotham for doing all sorts of jobs - everything from helping old ladies carry groceries home for pennies and a pat on the cheek to heavier lifting by the docks. When he asked one of the street kids about him, he was told he also helped look for lost pets for pretty rocks or whatever the kids had in their pockets at the time, and he could fix just about anything - which had to be an exaggeration, but then again the street kids weren’t prone to overly positive opinions about adults, so he’d certainly made quite an impression on them.
Yet despite a lot of people knowing about him, apparently nobody knew a last name or where he lived. It was a mystery.
All that to say that Jason was curious… and apparently doing this.
He looked down at his phone, where he’d already put in the number. His thumb hovered over the call button. He still could not believe he was doing this. If this was a trap he was apparently walking in.
With a sigh he pushed the button.
It rang three times before it connected.
“Hello?” A hesitant voice asked.
“Is this Danny?” “Who’s asking?”
“You ask me on a date and you already forgot, I’m hurt,” Jason deadpanned hoping he would catch on to it not being wise to mention Red Hood’s name on an unencrypted line.
“Oh! So is that a yes?” He piped up excitedly.
Urgh, why was it charming that that he sounded so genuinely excited?
“Yes.”
“Sweet. Did you consider my questions?”
“Nope,” Jason popped the p and found himself smirking, “gonna have to impress me all on your own.”
Danny huffed. “Have it your way. I’ll show you a good time, you’ll see. How does… Sunday afternoon work for you?”
“’s fine.”
“Meet you in front of the building we last met, at 2 pm? Also unless you wanna take the bus, maybe bring your bike? I don’t drive.”
Jason scoffed. Letting some stranger hired to kill him close to him on his bike was a recipe for disaster. Still he found himself answering:
“Sure.”
“Great! I’ll see you Sunday then.”
With those words the call ended.
Jason looked down at his phone. He couldn’t believe it. Jason, no, Red Hood had a date for this Sunday. A giddy feeling bubbled up in his chest and he couldn’t help laughing. Red Hood going on a date. It was fucking ridiculous.
Yet, he was kinda looking forward to it. -
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lilislegacy · 4 months ago
Note
Lets spin the narrative. Which commonly talked about moments weren’t the ones when Percabeth first had sex
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So, I could be wrong, but I THINK you guys wanna talk about this lol.
First, let me say this: when I talk about Percabeth being intimate, I am only referring to very fictional book Percabeth — and only when they’re 16 or older (AKA the age of consent), and in a fully committed, loving relationship. Also, if this turns into a big discussion, let’s keep it respectful and mature. Obviously, I’m totally good with having more adult conversations, but even though my blog is targeted toward older teens and adults, there are still some younger teens on this app, and we need to keep things responsible and safe for them. Okay, we good?
So let’s talk about it.
Warning: I’m about to talk a lot lol. (Surprised?) BUT I’ll put the major points in bold so you can skim if you’re not in the mood for all my rambling.
When I DON’T Think It Happened:
Before Heroes of Olympus: They’d only been dating for like four months before Percy got abducted. They were still barely 16 and figuring out how to shift from being best friends to romantic partners — and neither of them had ever even dated anyone before. I’m sure there was some heavy kissing, second base, maaaybe even a sprinkle of third base. But I don’t think it went further. I just think they weren’t ready, and they weren’t in a rush. They wouldn’t want to risk messing anything up by moving too fast, you know?
In the stables: As funny as that scene was because of all the embarrassment and suggestions of sex, Rick could not have made it more clear that nothing happened lol.
In HoO - On the Argo II / During the War/Quest: I just don’t think that was the time or the place. Even before Annabeth left for her mission, they were on a crowded ship, surrounded by people and under a ton of stress. And yeah, some people say, “Well, maybe they did it then because they thought they were gonna die,” but they were also pretty sure Percy was gonna die in the Battle of Manhattan — and they still waited to get together until after it was over. They don’t strike me as a “let’s do it just in case we die tomorrow” type of couple.
When I DO Think It Happened:
This might be an underwhelming answer for those of you who haven’t heard me say this before, but I strongly believe it happened sometime during the summer after the Gaea/Giant War was over — or possibly sometime during their senior year. But I really think it was that summer.
Because by this time, unlike before Percy’s kidnapping when they were still figuring things out, there's a new certainty and stability to their relationship that wasn’t quite there before. In Staff of Hermes, one month into dating, Percy says he’s just glad they’ve made it this long and hopes to keep it going. By Heroes of Olympus, the two of them are discussing their future together and making plans for college and living together in New Rome afterwards. That's a big change. There’s no uncertainty anymore.
That six-month separation was hard for them — especially Annabeth, since she was conscious for all of it — but it showed them that their relationship was more than just a teenage pairing. Annabeth admitted that she had fallen hard for him when they started dating, but that when he went missing, it was like being withdrawn from a lifesaving medication. Percy’s memories were wiped, and he was supposed to forget everything except the most basic thing about himself: his name. But somehow, Annabeth was just as integral a part of him — because he didn’t just remember her name, but had little flashing memories of her too. He didn’t remember his own mother, Grover, or anything about his life, but he knew Annabeth.
So any part of their relationship that was casual or uncertain before? That all went away the moment they were reunited.
Once we see them together again in HoH, it’s consistently commented on how natural they are with each other, and how comfortable they are touching and kissing. Annabeth says Percy is a part of her. Percy says he never wants to be apart from Annabeth again. Then, obviously, they walk through Tartarus together — which only reinforces how united they are.
So what this all shows is that by the end of HoO, their relationship has become as solid as concrete. There’s nothing but love, trust, and certainty. Therefore, once they get back and the world is saved and they’re together in New York again, I think every reason they had to wait before is gone. What’s left is two people who want to be together in every way, and they know their relationship isn't going anywhere.
Anyway, these are just my own personal thoughts. This subject will never get confirmed or denied by Rick, so there's never going to be a right or wrong here. I welcome other opinions and perspectives. And if you agree with me but have other thoughts, feel free to share. Again, just as long as it's respectful :)
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nevadancitizen · 5 months ago
Text
-> CH. 3: THE WEALTHY WOMAN’S BURDEN
synopsis: jayce takes you to meet a councilor friend of his. she's loaded and you're not, but despite the glaring discrepancies, you do your best to strike a deal.
word count: 4.7k
ships: Viktor/isekai!Reader, Jayce Talis & isekai!Reader
notes: i woke up this morning and my index finger was FUCKED UP it's like BENT a good five to seven degrees to the right (painful) so writing may be like a little slower while i figure out what this is ┐(´•_•`)┌
ABoAB taglist: @th3stup1dcat , @patchs-curiosity-corner (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask!)
A BLAZE OF ARCANE BLUE MASTERLIST
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It’s been about a week since you came through the hexportal. (Jayce decided that it had a nice ring to it, despite both you and Viktor’s protests that it most certainly did not.) You’re settling in nicely; you’ve organized your dorm sufficiently, you’ve gotten on well enough with Viktor and Jayce, and you’ve met a wonderful young lady named Miss Sky Young, who happens to be their lab assistant. 
Viktor was very kind to arrange a blackboard to be delivered to your place. You’ve wanted to work out a cipher between English and Piltovan, but just haven’t had the time yet. The book he left on your kitchen peninsula still taunts you each time you pass by it. You don’t even know its title, or who it’s written by. It frustrates you, like it’s an itch you can’t scratch – yet.
You’ll learn Piltovan. You’re illiterate now, but you just need to learn. And you’re a hell of a learner! Well, at least that’s what you tell yourself when the book almost seems to stare at you when you’re fixing a meal. It’s almost like it’s saying, ‘Look! Look at me, with your uneducated eyes. You live in Piltover now, you’ve gotta speak Piltovan!’
But that’s not important right now. What is important is how the collar on this fancy outfit is supposed to look… Is it supposed to be tall, or are you supposed to fold it down? You’re not too sure. This entire outfit is a bit alien to you, and your university has a fashion program. You’re used to seeing fancy outfits that look a little (or a lot) ‘out there,’ but you’re not used to wearing them.
“Jayce,” you call through the bathroom door. “I – I appreciate the thought, I really do, but… do I really need to wear this to meet her?”
“I’m sure you look nice,” Jayce says, his voice muffled. “Besides, we’ll be wearing matching colors. We need to present as a united front.”
“United front,” you mumble under your breath. You lean over the sink, closer to the mirror, and adjust the oxblood ascot-tie-thing that’s around your neck. “What are we, married?”
A few minutes later, you step out of the bathroom. A smile spreads over Jayce’s face as he takes you in.
Your outfit does, in fact, match his. You’re wearing a mirror of his outfit, almost: a white button-down with a muted red vest, along with freshly-pressed grey slacks and the oxblood ascot-tie-thing (you’re not sure how else to describe it). You insisted on just cleaning up your boots and wearing those because you didn’t want Jayce spending any more money on you. (It makes you feel weird, being indebted to him like this, but he said that since his and Viktor’s technology brought you into Piltover, he and Viktor are responsible for meeting your needs.)
“See?” He says. “You look nice.”
You wrinkle your nose up and force a smile. “Uh-huh. Sure don’t feel nice to be dressed in it.”
Jayce rolls his eyes, still smiling, and leads you out of your dorm. You barely have time to pick up your bag before he damn near drags you out.
The Academy is big and winding, with many halls that lead in loops, hidden shortcuts, and passages that seem to lead to nowhere. You’re glad to have him as a guide – you’re sure that if you got lost, it’d be worse than Christ’s fast of forty days and forty nights.
Finally, the sunlight of early day meets your skin as you step outside. You smile and bring your hand up to block the sun from your eyes. It’s nice and warm without the oppressive humidity you’re used to.
“You gonna show me ‘round your rich city?” You ask Jayce.
He touches your shoulder lightly to keep you walking alongside him. “Maybe we can do that another time. I made an appointment with the Councilor, and I don’t want to miss it.”
You quicken your pace to catch up with him, then slow your walk to match his. Your eyes are stuck on the tall structures that surround you – never before have you been so close to such wonderful, artistic architecture. It almost looks Victorian or Edwardian, in a way. The people sure dress fancy enough to be from those eras. Maybe some of them are?
But the giant boom of a hexgate firing negates that thought. You’re not quite used to it yet, but Jayce explained that the sound was not, in fact, a gunshot, but just the sound of modern transportation. It’s like Piltover is some steampunk’s wet dream come to life: a near-perfect display of retrofuturism. New, freshly-pioneered technology mixed with old-world cogs and steam.
A thought comes to mind. “How old is Piltover, exactly?”
“We just celebrated the two-hundredth anniversary of its founding a few years ago,” Jayce says. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious, that’s all,” you say. “The buildin’s look old. I’m not sayin’ they look unimpressive, just that they got a little age on ‘em.”
“You think these are impressive?” He laughs breathily. “Just wait ‘til you see her estate.”
“Estate?” You echo. “She’s dead?”
“What? No,” he says. “I meant her house. In fact…”
Jayce leads you around a corner and holds up a hand, palm-up and outstretched towards a huge mansion behind a tall, wrought-iron gate. This is the Kiramman estate.
“Woah,” you breathe out. “That ain’t a house – Jayce, that’s a little more’n just a house.”
It’s honestly bigger than any other mansion you’ve seen in person. Sure, you’ve seen (and made fun of) a lot of ‘McMansions’ in Texas and California, where too-big houses are built on too-small plots of land. But this one has the proper land and space to be an actual, beautiful, well-thought-out mansion. Even in a semi-crowded city like this, it demands the space it needs and openly exudes wealth and power.
“Well, yeah,” Jayce says. “That’s why I called it an estate.”
You follow Jayce towards the gate, your eyes still stuck upwards at the geometric metalwork that adorns the roof. Two tall spires at the front of the mansion cut into the sky, both surely imprisoning two delicate, fragile Kiramman princesses. You can almost hear them crying out for you from their open windows  – ‘Oh, come save us from our wealth! Marry one of us so you can spend our money building the workshop of your dreams. It can be a jeweler’s workshop, or a metalwork studio, or anything else – just spend our exorbitant amount of generational wealth so we don’t have to!’
Jayce talks to the man standing guard at the gate about the appointment he made. The man opens the gate, and as you pass by, you eye the rifle he has. From what you can tell, it’s bolt-action. He’s holding the butt of the gun in his palm and resting the sling stud against his shoulder. He doesn’t look like he appreciates your once-over of him.
You follow Jayce into the foyer. Even the front door handles are fancy and inlaid with gold. 
Inside is even grander. You don’t know what else you expected. Nearly everything has gold incorporated in some part of it – the coffee table, the loveseat and the chair across from it, even the railing leading up to the second floor near the back of the room. Floor-to-ceiling windows line the second floor’s back wall, letting sunlight spill into the room. The gold catches the natural light and makes the room almost glow.
There’s a huge painting in the center of the back wall of, what you presume to be, an outdoor shot of the Kiramman family. A man sits in a chair with a young girl (no more than ten) next to him, and a woman stands behind them, a hand on both their shoulders. A dog, a doberman-looking breed, stands next to the man, its ears tilted forward and facing the girl. The young girl is holding a rifle that’s almost as tall as her. An exotic-looking animal lays in front of the family, dead. A successful hunt.
There is one god-honest truth to be observed here: that the Kirammans are fucking loaded.
You don’t know how it makes you feel. On one hand, it’s amazing. You’ve never been in the presence of this… grandeur. This is only the foyer – you can’t even begin to imagine what a bedroom or bathroom looks like. You’d love to have a quick look around one of their kitchens.
But on the other hand? It disgusts you. The Kirammans could drop a million bucks on a stair railing and it���d mean nothing to them. They probably already did, from the looks of the one leading up to the second floor. It’s an appaling display of wealth and selfishness, a siren playing a soundbite of ‘Me, me, me! Look at me and how rich I am, then look at yourself and how poor you are!’ on an endless loop.
You swallow both sentiments and sit next to Jayce on the loveseat, setting your bag in your lap. On top of being beautiful, the seat is comfortable. You could sleep on it and your back would thank you for it. It kind of pisses you off, but then you realize how stupid it would be to be mad at a couch just because it was made well.
“Are you nervous?” Jayce asks, his voice kind of quiet.
“Am I?” You scoff. “Nothin’ to be nervous ‘bout. Them Kirammans must be… moneyed people, and there ain’t nothin’ wrong with that. I can handle moneyed.”
You busy yourself with looking around the room again. At second glance, nothing new is revealed – everything is, in fact, as fancy as you thought it was at first. Whoever the Kirammans commissioned to decorate must’ve been given a blank check.
“Jayce!” A voice calls, high-pitched and thrilled and… British? Yeah, her voice is British. How the hell did Britain manage to invade and colonize another universe? (Well, actually… if anyone could manage it, it’d be Britain.)
You turn your head and look towards the stairs. Standing in front of the Kiramman family portrait is the woman from the painting, albeit a bit older. She must be Councilor Kiramman. She certainly looks rich enough to be.
Jayce stands, and you quickly follow suit, holding your bag against you and making sure it doesn’t fall and spill. You watch Jayce, seeing if he bows or curtsies or does anything regal-like that you should copy.
“Councilor Kiramman!” He greets. “How’re you?”
Councilor Kiramman talks as she descends the stairs. “Oh, I’m doing fine. And before you ask, Caitlyn is doing well.”
“I’m glad to hear,” Jayce says. “I’d like you to meet someone.”
A smile crosses her face as she looks your way. Her shoe meets the floor with a click, then her steps are muffled as she moves across the rug.
You set your bag down on the loveseat and hold your hand out for a handshake, introducing yourself and giving your school’s name. She looks at you oddly before placing her hand limply in yours. It’s far from a good handshake, and frankly, kind of uncomfortable.
“They’re from a different part of the world,” Jayce says, effectively rescuing you. “Where they’re from, handshakes are greetings.”
A look of revelation crosses Councilor Kiramman’s face, and she gives you a firm, respectful handshake. You feel the tension in your shoulders melt a little – you haven’t committed an unknown Piltover faux pas (yet, at least).
“I apologize sincerely, ma’am,” you say. “It was foolish of me to think that our social customs were comparable.”
“Oh, your accent!” She cradles your hand in both of her warm ones. “Tell me, where are you from?”
“A…America,” you say. “From the Southern region.”
“I’ve never heard of America,” she says. “It must be a small country.”
“Somewhat,” you lie. “How ‘bout we sit? I can tell you more.”
She nods and you return to the loveseat, resting your bag in your lap again. Jayce settles next to you, and Councilor Kiramman sits in the lone seat across the coffee table.
She crosses one leg over the other at the knee. “So, what brought you to Piltover?”
“I, um… I didn’t have much of a choice, ma’am,” you say. You bring your hands together to better sell the act of the poor, ignorant Southerner, and lie the best you can.
“Was bad people that displaced me. I was up in the North for schooling, but they didn’t want my kinda people ‘round, no ma’am.” You shake your head and look away to the side. “I couldn’t get back down South quick enough, so I hopped on a boat at Nautilus Pier and was a stowaway. I ended up here, and Jayce and Viktor, god bless ‘em both wholly, took me in.”
“Oh, that’s horrible,” Councilor Kiramman says. “Would you like some tea?”
“Um – yes,” you say, a little startled at the sudden change in topic. “Yes, please.”
“Jayce.” She leans back in her chair and her eyes shift to Jayce. “Would you be so kind?”
Jayce spares you a glance, then stands and excuses himself. You grip your bag in a small fit of panic, then let go. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.
Councilor Kiramman’s voice is quieter than before when she speaks next. “Jayce thinks you’re a beneficiary worthy of backing from the Kirammans. Do you?”
You take a moment to go over your pre-prepared speech in your head, then look into her pale-blue eyes. “Yes ma’am, I do. I’m one hell of an artist – it’s just that my education was cut short. If you take a chance on me, which I sincerely hope you do, I’ll do my damnedest to fulfill any request you make of me. I ain’t got no job, I ain’t got no money, and those egghead boys are nice, but I sure as hell can’t freeload forever.”
Before you can talk yourself down from it, you open your bag and flip your sketchbook open. It was greuling, getting these designs down, but you have something to show to Councilor Kiramman. You turn the sketchbook, then set it down on the coffee table and push it towards her. She leans forward and looks at the page.
“I don’t got no physical proof to show you my talents, due to my quick departure and whatnot, but I hope this suffices,” you say. “I drew ‘em up over the last week or so. Was inspired by hextech – as I’m sure most are. I thought that, as an investor, maybe you’d like to have a set of earrings and a necklace at the next exposition.”
“And what materials would that require?” She asks, her eyes not leaving the page.
“I was thinkin’ a medium-dark blue gemstone. Not exactly dark as iolite, but would still compliment your palette,” you say. “Maybe a nice blue topaz? And it’d be better ‘cause it’s cheap, too. I was plannin’ on makin’ chandelier earrings, and those can get expensive quick, dependin’ on the design.”
Councilor Kiramman brings a hand up and touches her earring, almost like she’s imagining herself with a pair of chandelier earrings rather than the simple drop ones she has on. You can’t tell exactly with the distance between the both of you, but they look like lapis lazuli.
“And what about the designs that aren’t meant to impress me?” Her eyes flick up and meet yours. “The ones you make for yourself?”
You feel your heart almost stop. You take a moment, breathe in, and compose yourself.
“I – I enjoy celestial designs,” you say, like it’s an admission. “My favorite piece I made was a pair of twin gemini earrings. They were so goddamn intricate, I spent two weeks on ‘em… I’m… it’s a shame I wasn’t able to get ‘em when I left. I’m honestly real tore up ‘bout it.”
Councilor Kiramman puts your sketchbook on the coffee table and pushes it towards you. “Show me.”
You look up from the page full of designs meant to impress her and meet her eyes. She’s dead serious. She wants you to draw the twin gemini earrings, and, you assume, recreate them – if she likes them well enough, that is.
You dig around in your bag and thank god you threw a pencil in there just in case. You turn the page and put graphite to paper.
Slowly, a design forms from rudimentary shapes. It’s a silhouette of two almost-naked sisters, both wearing fig leaves, dancing together. Gems represent the stars of the constellation, embedded in each woman’s body, forever joining them.
You push the sketchbook back towards her. “The sisters are made of silver, and the stars – the little circles – are moonstone in a brilliant cut.”
“Not something with more scintillation?” She suggests. “They’re meant to be stars, after all.”
You perk up at that. She knows what scintillation is? Well, she’s rich, so maybe it isn’t that surprising. Or maybe it is, because she could just hire a jeweler to examine and know everything about the jewels she wears.
“Yes ma’am,” you say. “But brilliant cuts are cheaper, and also have a lot less labor goin’ into ‘em. Forgive me if I’m speakin’ outta line, but I do believe you’re richer than most my entire country. I couldn’t exactly afford something with more scintillation, ‘less I cut it myself.”
“And what if I get it cut for you?” Councilor Kiramman looks up from the page. “Would you be able to recreate these earrings if I gave you the proper materials and workspace?”
Despite you considering the possibility of her asking this, you’re still shocked when those words leave her mouth. She’s offering to cover something that cost you almost five hundred bucks to make – maybe it’s pocket change for her, but for you, it is most definitely not.
“What happens after?” You ask. “You gonna take me on as a beneficiary if they’re up to snuff?”
She leans back in her chair and makes a noncommittal gesture with one hand. “I need to see your talents actualized before I take the risk of investment. I’ll decide when you show me the final product. I’m sure you understand.”
You nod. “Yes, ma’am. I know you got artists knockin’ down your door…”
You trail off as you hear the faint sound of a kettle whistle cutting through the air. You check over your shoulder over the back of the loveseat, where the source of the sound is coming from.
“It’s just the kettle,” Councilor Kiramman says. “Surely you had tea with your family when you were living at home?”
You slump in the seat, pressing your back into the cushion a bit. “Um, no, ma’am. I made my parents coffee in the mornings ‘fore they went off to work, though.”
“I find coffee too bitter for my taste,” she says. “Where do your parents work?”
You hesitate for a moment. You don’t know why. Are you embarrassed? What do you have to be embarrassed about? (Maybe being poor in front of an overly rich person, for one, but that’s besides the point.)
“My daddy works in the oil fields. He does all the manual labor you’d expect in that job,” you say. “And my momma works at a local school – Meadowbrook Elementary. Teaches young children, age seven to eight, I’d say.”
“So you come from a family of laborers,” she says. “And yet you’re an artisan. How peculiar.”
You bristle a little at that statement. She didn’t exactly say it, but with the way she said ‘laborers…’ Okay, she didn’t say it with a sneer or an undertone of contempt, but how else are you supposed to respond to something like that?
“My parents encouraged me,” you say, keeping your voice even as you can manage to. “Sure, I got debt from my schooling, but I’m workin’ to pay it off.”
“You have to go into debt to go to school?” Councilor Kiramman says. She looks to the side and heaves a breath. “Is America really that backwards?”
You grit your teeth and give a smile you know is unconvincing. “Yes ma’am, but it’s still my home. You can love something despite its flaws.”
You watch as Councilor Kiramman looks over at the huge painting of her family. Her shoulders seem to relax a little.
“I find it odd,” she says. “If you don’t share an enthusiasm for labor, what do you share with your family?”
You look over at the painting – at the corpse of the exotic animal. It’s feathered, with some type of organic keratin mask over its face. You can only imagine its blood dripping from the bullet wound, pooling and inching towards the girl’s and the man’s hand-cobbled shoes.
“We went on huntin’ trips, just like that one,” you say. “We had one scoped rifle between all of us – was a pristine Mauser ‘98. I killed my first whitetail deer when I was twelve with that gun.”
Looking at the portrait makes you feel something in the pit of your stomach now. It’s a twisted mirror of what could’ve been. If your family was rich, if your family had only one child, if your family had its own property to hunt on.
You couldn’t imagine the Kirammans in the polaroid picture your momma took when you killed that buck. In that picture, you were smiling, proud, the rifle slung over your shoulder and your hands holding the deer’s head up by his eight-point antlers. Your kid-sized earmuffs were resting around your neck and your sneakers were covered in dry, flaky mud. You were dirty and shaking from adrenaline, but you couldn’t have been happier.
But the Kirammans don’t smile. They sure as hell don’t get dirty. They don’t put their hunt up on a gambrel and pulley to gut it – they hire someone to do that for them. Daddy Kiramman didn’t teach Daughter Kiramman how to skin an animal and how to cut out the backstrap. He taught her that her problems can be solved if she pays someone to solve them for her.
“My daughter was nine,” Councilor Kiramman says, her voice fond. “Caitlyn always wanted to go out on a hunting expedition since she was young. We said she could go once she could hold a rifle on her own. I’m sure you were similar when you were a child.”
You push down your thoughts and glance over at her. She’s still looking at the painting, probably remembering the day Caitlyn shot… whatever that is.
You clench your jaw and instead trace your eyes over the exquisite, golden frame the painting is held in. She’s insinuating your families are similar – that her plush, comfortable life is comparable to yours when it’s not. 
You were a rough and tumble kid. You have scars from falling off your bike and playing with hunting knives, pretending to be pirates with your brother. Councilor Kiramman’s skin is flawless, and any scars that may have accrued have been washed away by a correcting gel or cream. You lapped at too-hot water from a hose during the summertime. She had chilled bottles of water when she was done doing her rich-girl extracurricular activities, like badminton and curling.
You start to feel sick. Maybe rich people just make you feel sick. Or the disparity between you two and the power she holds over you is making you sick.
She could put you in the gutter and no one would bat an eye – just another starving artist, well… starving. Everyone would excuse it with ‘Well, people compromise on their dreams all the time. Nothing was stopping them from getting a day job. It’s their fault for being poor, their fault for being naive enough to think that they were a true artist, their fault for not having rich parents and a safety net.’
The outfit Jayce put you in starts to feel too tight, too starchy and itchy. Your shoulders are confined by the almost-taut fabric and the ascot-tie-thing (you hate it, hate it) is creating an uncomfortable pressure along your sternum from being stuffed in your vest. You feel like you can’t pull in a full breath. You can’t pull in a full breath.
You hear footsteps behind you. You check over your shoulder and see Jayce walking back into the foyer, holding a tray with a teapot, three teacups, and a few other little containers with spoon handles sticking out of them.
“Jayce!” You say. The tension is broken. “You’re back.”
“I couldn’t decide which tea to brew,” Jayce says as he walks, carefully balancing the tray. “I ended up with conschberry tea. I hope that’s okay.”
You take your sketchbook and put it back in your bag to make room on the coffee table. He sets down the tray and sets the teacups out – one for him, one for you, and one for Councilor Kiramman.
The tea he pours from the teapot is a pinkish-orange color, and lets off a sweet, floral smell. The little containers are filled with sugars of different colors, and what you deduce is cream and milk. There’s a plate filled with sandwiches cut into neat squares, fruit still on a vine, and assorted pastries.
Jayce puts the teapot back on the tray, then sits next to you. Councilor Kiramman takes the spoon from a ramekin of light orange sugar and pours some into her tea. It fizzes, then settles as she stirs.
“That ain’t sugar?” You ask.
“Sugar?” She echoes. “It’s ainglë. Don’t tell me you don’t have ainglë in America?”
You shake your head, then reach out and take the container. You lift it to your nose and smell. It’s sharp and sinus-clearing, but reminds you of the saffron you’d sniff when you went into the big city’s grocery shop.
“Hm,” you hum. You sprinkle a little into your tea, and it fizzes, just like Councilor Kiramman’s did. That’s… somewhat reassuring, you guess.
You bring the cup to your lips and take a tentative sip. It’s sweet without being overwhelming and goes down with a mildly bitter aftertaste. It’s decadent, but definitely something you could get used to.
You take a deep breath and can feel the air hit the bottom of your lungs. The outfit is still constraining and uncomfortable, but it’s not as bad now. You feel less like a hog trussed for slaughter and more like a person that’s just in an awkward situation.
“We’ve reached an agreement,” Councilor Kiramman tells Jayce. “I’m not a sponsor yet, but they show promise.”
He sends you a brief smile and nods at her words. “Hopefully they make something to your liking.”
“Oh, I have no doubt they will,” she says. “We’ve worked out an arrangement. I provide the materials and workspace, and they provide the finished product. We’ll see where it goes from there.”
You feel like a kid at a gathering for dinner, with the adults talking about you over your head. You sip at your tea, then tilt your head back to drain the cup. You gather your bag, set your teacup down on the tray, and stand.
“Well, I oughta get goin’,” you say.
“Why so soon?” Councilor Kiramman says. “You’re welcome to stay and have more tea.”
You hold up a hand and make up a lie. “In my family, you serve hot tea when you want someone to go. I – I’d just feel unwelcome. Like I’m takin’ advantage of your gracious invitation.”
“If you must…” She stands and extends her hand over the coffee table. You take it, and she gives a firm handshake. You smile a little when you realize that she took care to remember American customs.
“Was nice meetin’ you,” you say.
“You as well,” she says, and lets go of your hand. “I’ll have someone arrange a studio and the materials you’ll need. It should be ready by the day after tomorrow.”
“The day after tomorrow?” You repeat, a little shocked. (Money does make the world go around, but you didn’t expect her money to accelerate the process that fast.) “I – yes, that works for me.”
Councilor Kiramman nods, and you take it as a sign that you’re now allowed to leave. You give Jayce a little reassurance that you won’t get lost, then make your way to the front doors and slip out.
84 notes · View notes
flightfoot · 1 year ago
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Could you recommend good written rarepair fics?
Sure! I don't know what you qualify as rarepair, so I'll use my old standby of "everything that isn't Lovesquare". I've got a lot of these to recommend, so I'll split it up by ship, unless there's only one fic in the pairing, in which case I'll dump it at the end.
I've split this up by pairing. If I have multiple fics to rec for a pairing, I'll give it its own category, if not, then it goes into the "one-offs" category at then end.
I have categories for Adrino, Marigami, MarcNath, Lukadrien, Julerose, Chlobrina, DJWifi, Alyanette, and FeLuka, in that order.
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Adrino:
Within Your Heart by Inkyibis
It’s Valentine’s Day and Ladybug just wants to her superhero partner to find his love. And what she wants, the Lucky Charm will create. If only she could remember what it is she did last night.
Adrino fic here! Marinette’s drunk and feeling awful that her superhero partner is alone on Valentine’s (she’s in a loving and committed relationship with Alya), so she creates a Lucky Charm to help Chat find love! In this universe, Ladybug’s Lucky Charms have the power to create new rules for the universe to follow, such as making one that demands that if you have any magic in you, you have to tell the truth or else you’ll freeze. Or in Adrien’s case, that he has to wake up in the arms of his true love every day XD. It’s very sweet and I love both Adrien’s and Nino’s relationship, and the relationship between the rest of the Miracuteam members as well, even though that’s not the focus.
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I’ll give myself a name (something stupid and pretentious) by @bbutterflies
Nino looked at the number and didn’t recognize it. Usually he wouldn’t answer, but he had nothing better to do – and could still really use a distraction – so he did. “Hello?”
“Hey, Nino.”
Nino stood up quickly, chest tightening. He knew that voice. He’d been waiting to hear it again for over two years. “Adrien?” he whispered.
“Yeah. It’s me."
-
When Monarch is defeated (and revealed to be Gabriel Agreste), Chat Noir immediately goes missing. Adrien disappears not long after. When Adrien finally shows up in Paris again, Nino would do anything to make sure he doesn't disappear again.
Ah this is lovely, Adrien’s been in a lot of emotional turmoil since Monarch’s defeat, convinced that everyone would hate him, SHOULD hate him, for not realizing that his father was the villain, and should hate him even more for disappearing like he does. But slowly Marinette and Nino get through to him, convince him that they just want him back. 
And also Adrien and Nino smooch. Multiple times. So that’s a bonus XD.
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Would Trust You With Everything by @kasienda
Nino breaks off, tears streaking down his face. Adrien wishes he was here as himself instead of Chat so he could offer a hug.
“It’s not like I don’t think she deserved her privacy. It’s just it felt like I was her last priority. And if I knew why, then maybe we could overcome it. But when I don’t, I’m not willing to be her last thought. You know? I always put her first.”
“Yeah,” Chat agrees, able to relate too well. He always put Ladybug first too, and he’s not sure it has ever been the same for her. “I’m sorry you’ve been so alone through this."
“I haven’t been totally alone,” Nino disagrees, holding up his phone. “My best friend has been keeping me company virtually most of the day.”
“Yeah? It helped?”
“I don’t know if any of the stuff he sent helped, but like, given what I know he’s up to, he totally had to move heaven and earth to talk to me so much, and that really helped. You know, just knowing that someone was thinking of me.”
“I’m glad,” Chat Noir said. “I wish he could be there in person for you.”
Nino sighs. “Yeah, me too, but at least you’re here."
...
Season 4 au - canon divergent from Rocketear Rocketear led to DJWiFi breakup.
Ahh, Adrino my beloved XD. I love the identity shenanigans in this one with Adrien being around Nino as both Adrien and Chat Noir, and both of them vaguely describing their situations to each other. It takes Adrien a bit to figure out that he has a crush on Nino, but once he does...
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The moment I knew (I’d no choice but to love you) by @bbutterflies
“He’s dating me,” Nino said, taking Adrien’s hand in his own.
Adrien could only stare back at him in shock.
“How dare you all force him to come out?” Nino continued, glaring at the reporters. “That was disgusting.” He pulled Adrien over to the car, guided him in, and shut the door behind them.
In the relative quiet and privacy of the backseat, Adrien finally processed what had just happened. “So… when were you going to tell me we were dating?”
This Adrino fic is delicious XD. Reporters keep hounding Adrien about his love life, so Nino finally gets them off Adrien’s back by fake-dating him. Problem is, Adrien’s actually been madly in love with Nino for years but has never been able to tell him. And now as they’re spending more time together, Nino’s beginning to find that he’s enjoying all these “couple” activities more than maybe he ought to if it’s entirely platonic...
If you want to see Adrien and Nino PINING for each other while “fake” dating (is it really fake if both parties want it to be real?) then you’ve come to the right fic!
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Chemistry With Him by @bbutterflies
It kind of sucked Nino was taking chemistry, but classes had filled up fast and he needed to take something and his advisor had said the credits would, somehow, count towards his major. It really sucked he was taking it first thing on a Monday morning (and Wednesdays, and Fridays, unfortunately). But he could get through it. He knew he could.
So no more boys. No distractions. He could do this all on his own.
“Is anyone sitting here?”
Nino looked up to find the source of the voice. A blond, green-eyed, absolutely beautiful someone.
Okay. Maybe one distraction.
Ah, adorable Adrino. This is a universe where Adrien never went to public school, so while Chat Noir, Ladybug, Carapace, and Rena Rouge all know each other (and Marinette, Alya, and Nino all know each other’s identities) they’re unaware that they are all already friends with Adrien. I loved seeing Chat and Carapace excitedly tell each other about their awesome crush/boyfriend, not knowing they were talking about each other XD.
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Awaken by InkyIbis
The previously white butterfly, now oozing black and purple as a conduit of the butterfly miraculous powers, flutters softly within the silvered-gloved hand.
It sits there for a long time.
"Go, my akuma," The soft sigh pushes the butterfly, the akuma, out towards the despair of a love not returned. The same ache within his chest. On a level so great that he's willing to sacrifice the city to mend it.
It's okay if he's the villain for now. He'll force the miraculous of creation and destruction to be revealed, and once he gets his hands on them, none of this pain, none of his loss, will ever happen.
This is essentially a canon rewrite for Miraculous (specifically seasons 1 and 2, with a bunch of the events mixed around) that focuses primarily on Adrien, with his relationship with Nino being the main driving relationship of the fic. (Don’t worry, Marinette’s still treated fine, she’s just not the focus). This is the best “rewrite Miraculous with more of a focus on Adrien” type fic I’ve seen, with it reworking the plots of the episodes so that they’re different enough to be their own distinct thing - it’s not trying to just rewrite the canon episodes but from Adrien’s POV, there’s a lot of lore changes going on as well, and things occur in different orders.
Like lorewise, Chat’s given a more important role in cleaning up the mess the akumas leave, with his power helping to cleanse akuma victims and he and Ladybug needing to use their powers in tandem in order to cast Miraculous Ladybug. There’s also no Miracle Box holding the kwamis. Instead, Chat sometimes surpasses his limits and ends up summoning kwamis, which is dangerous to him, but very useful.
What really makes this fic great though, is its focus on Adrien’s emotions. You really get a feel for Adrien’s insecurities, especially when it comes to not feeling like he’s good enough for Nino, with not wanting to bother him when he absolutely should, with feeling like he’s not a good enough friend to him, and then there’s dealing with all of Gabriel’s usual abuse on top of that.
Speaking of Nino, this is an Adrino fic (though several characters get crushes on Adrien, Nino’s the one who matters most for this), though a slowburn one. Nino’s clearly head-over-heels for Adrien, but Adrien has like, no context for what a romantic crush feels like and is basically viewing Nino the way he viewed Marinette in canon prior to season 5. He clearly cares for him a lot, including romantically, he just... doesn’t get it.
Anyway, if you want an interesting canon rewrite fic from Adrien’s perspective with Adrino as the main pairing, this is a good story to pick up!
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If I hold you too close by @bbutterflies
Paris didn’t come to a screeching halt for akumas anymore. They were so commonplace, so frequent, no one stopped their lives unless they were in danger. They trusted the heroes to fix everything if something did go wrong, save them if they got hurt. Adrien was still fighting the urge to find Plagg and go running into battle. Plagg wasn’t here, though. --- Post-season 5 where Adrien got sent to London sooner and gave up his Miraculous to keep Paris safe.
If you know this author, then you've probably already guessed that this is an Adrino fic (seriously if you like Adrino, check out bbutterflies fics, though honestly if you ARE an Adrino fan, you probably already have).
So in this scenario, Adrien was sent to London and didn't get to return, so he gave Plagg the ring so he could find another Holder. In this case, Nino. After a few years, once he's an adult, Adrien manages to come back from London, but he's in ROUGH shape. He drinks a lot, he has a reputation for partying hard and causing disruptions, and is really depressed and hates himself, and hates Felinoir (Nino's Black Cat form) even more, for having what he lost.
But even while Adrien's pushing everyone away to protect himself, his old friends refuse to give up on him, even though he's given up on himself.
While Adrien's problems are the primary focus of the fic, they're not the entire focus. Nino gets a POV, and he has personal issues and insecurities of his own. He has trouble holding down relationships, he doesn't have a lot of close friends these days, and he's struggling to keep up in school with all the akumas he's had to fight. He and Ladybug are fine coworkers, but they aren't much more than that - they aren't friends like Chat Noir and Ladybug were.
Oh, also, Nino's a transman. That's also caused some issues in making and keeping friends.
It's a beautiful story of one person hitting rock-bottom and gradually being pulled back out of it again, until they can stand on their own and push themselves up the rest of the way, and of a friend who discovers their childhood best friend (and crush) has changed enormously since they last saw them, and not in good ways - only to find that their friend is, at their core, still there. They just need help seeing it themselves.
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Marigami:
Plans Aren’t Everything by BeeRye
Feeling a bit fed up with constantly having her dates with Marinette cut short, Kagami sets aside some time in order to plan the perfect outing for the two of them. Despite being the holder of the Miraculous of the Black Cat, she believes one day of romance isn’t too much to ask for. As long as she treats it all like she does everything else in her life, the results she wants should come to pass. She doesn’t quite know what to do if that ends up not being the case.
This was adorable and captured Kagami’s mindset well, she decided, rather optimistically that she could just brute force the date into going well. Unfortunately, that’s not gonna stop Hawk Moth. Fortunately, Marinette has her own back-up plans…
---
Anchor by @liiinerle
“Marinette. Please take that sabre out of your neck.” “Right. Thanks. I forgot it was there.” She grabbed hold of the guard and pulled; the blade slid out like it had only been run through butter. After dropping it on the floor, she picked up one of the teacups and picked up a biscuit from a tin she’d brought in; she placed the biscuit on the saucer plate and handed the whole thing to Kagami, who could only really resign herself to accepting it. —– Marinette has raised Kagami from the dead, and also happens to be dead herself. It turns out some bad choices were made in the past. But that doesn’t mean they’ll lead to bad outcomes for them now.
I love this, Marinette’s incredibly blase about being a zombie - which makes sense, given how long she’s had to get used to the idea. And she’s waited so long, tried so hard to bring Kagami back as well, though if she didn’t WANT to be back, she’d accede to that request. Luckily, Kagami doesn’t seem to mind as long as she’s with Marinette XD.
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Galaxy In Your Eyes by @liiinerle
Arriving in Paris, Kagami almost immediately finds herself assaulted by a dark, infectious butterfly. When she wakes up, a ladybug-themed superhero is standing over her, and her eyes are like holes into an empty, vast, and incredibly alluring universe… An AU where the two main Miraculous function differently from the norm.
Nice Marigami fic here! Or should I say, Ladygami - technically Marinette doesn’t exist, only Ladybug, who’s an immortal creation goddess, or something like that. But she still fights to protect Paris from Hawk Moth alongside Chat Noir, who is still a normal, squishy human underneath the suit.
Anyway, there’s a but of inspiration from Nimona here, with a lot of people being scared of Ladybug because she’s a bit… out there, especially when she shapeshifts to have like, 6 extra arms and a lobster tail. Kagami’s into it though XD
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Accidents Are Also Miracles by @liiinerle
After a few turbulent days where four new people discover her secret identity, Marinette loses faith in her ability to keep the secret hidden. Wracked with doubts and insecurities, she pleads with Alya to take over as Scarabella, but she still can't let those worries go. Especially not once Monarch starts taking a particular, and personal, interest in her.
Along the way, she also starts to date Kagami, and has to deal with changing feelings about herself, Adrien, Alya, Kagami, and the idea of being Ladybug. At the same time, Alya works to uncover Monarch's secret identity, while Kagami struggles against a controlling parent, and a girlfriend who seems bent on destroying herself - with or without Monarch's involvement.
Fantastic Marigami fic here! You’ve got three major POVs in this fic: Marinette, Kagami, and to my delight, Alya. I loved getting to see Alya cope with taking over as Scarabella especially.
But of course, this fic centers more around Marinette and Kagami, with Marinette struggling with Monarch targeting her, and Kagami struggling against her abusive parent, as well as both of them trying to navigate their relationship together when they know that not everyone will approve. 
There’s also some other plots going on in here, like Sabrina breaking away from Chloe and becoming more independent (and closer to Adrien in fact), as well as a Lila takedown plot, though thankfully not one that involves demonizing other characters. While there are conversations about people believing Lila and siding with her, no one’s actually attacked for it except for Lila herself.
Oh yeah, and while this fic may not have much focus on Adrien, he’s still treated fairly and with respect, even when he messes up. He can make mistakes, but people understand where he’s coming from, and are still kind to him and want things to be okay, and to help him escape his abusive circumstances.
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Marcnath:
Day 7: Book by Andromeda612
During one of his works, Marc comes across a rather interesting book.
MarcNath AU fic here! Basically Marc is a super powerful warlock, and is brought in to help with the case of a lying witch who apparently caused a lot of problems for people, using her magic to help fool everyone. She’s actually dead by the time the story starts, and everyone’s trying to go back through and figure out what she’s done and why memories surrounding her seem to be foggy. Meanwhile there’s a book she left behind which appears to be sentient, and which Marc’s taken a liking too...
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don't you worry child by @mexicancat-girl
Marc and Nathaniel have a good life, married and living together in a cottage in the woods. But they consider having children at some point. Marc in particular really wants to start a family with his husband. He knows the fey are real, so he goes searching in the woods to find one to strike a deal. He may get a bit more than he bargained for in the process.
This is based on a tumblr post that’s been going around, which I think a lot of people will recognize as they continue going through the story. That post is credited at the end of the fic, so as not to spoil the plot.
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Confession Plans of Questionable Sanity by yellow14
Nathanael Kurtzberg has a confession to make. He’s in love with his big classmate Ivan. With the help of Marc, Marinette, Adrien and Nino, he’s going to confess, using increasingly complicated schemes. Marc meanwhile, is busy coming up with even more complicated schemes to sabotage those schemes so he can confess HIS feelings for his redheaded friend. Nothing could POSSIBLY go wrong with this, right? Written for the March 2023 gift exchange on the Miraculous Fanworks Discord forum for CassieTheweirdWolf.
This fic’s just really funny. These kids love to make things waaaaay harder than they need to be. But hey, everything ends up working out in the end, even if it’s not the way they planned!
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Evillustrator Reimagined by onewaywriteturn
A full, mostly-standalone rewrite of the episode "The Evillustrator".
Nathaniel never planned to tell anyone about his secret crush on his friend Marc, but his world changes when Chloe picks up his sketchbook and mocks his art in front of the whole class, inadvertently outing him as bisexual. Now as the Evillustrator, he has two objectives: to take vengeance on Chloe for what she did to him and to go on a date with Marc for his birthday.
At the same time, Marinette is already struggling to defend Sabrina from Chloe when she learns of the Evillustrator's crush on Marc, one of her good friends. And while getting Marc involved with an akuma fight is messy enough, the fact that Marc has secretly liked Nathaniel for a long time complicates the situation so much more.
If you ever wanted to see Evillustrator rewritten to focus around NathMarc, this is the fic for you! The two of them just PINE for each other so hard and are so convinced that the other person couldn’t possibly actually want to date them, even with Evillustrator making it uh. Exceedingly obvious XD.
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I'd Do Anything For $20 (To Feel More In Control) by Shroomifyiy
Bee!Nathaniel AU one shot (because I think he's silly teehee) Nathaniel hated keeping secrets, especially from someone he cared about. But unfortunately, it's not up to him to decide that. Marc feels hurt from Nathaniel's actions. He just wants his boyfriend to be honest with him. Hawkmoth is a bitch ass motherfucker. Enough said.
Fun Nathmarc fic here! I love seeing Nathaniel's interactions with Pollen, and him cope with the strain on his relationship with needing to run off all the time to go fight akumas with only the flimsiest of excuses. He loves Marc deeply, as deeply as Marc loves him. But Marc's getting suspicious and wondering what's going on, and Nathaniel doesn't think he can tell him.
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Handle With Care by @dragonchris
AU where soulmates can feel each other's emotions. But having a soulmate isn't always beautiful and romantic. Sometimes it's messy. Sometimes it hurts. Marc and Nath have to learn what that means for them.
This was cute, I loved seeing how Nathaniel and Marc both thought about their soulmate, and how they cope with the aftermath of Reverser in this AU. Helps that Alix is a platonic soulmate of Nathaniel's here (Nathaniel has two soulmates).
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Lukadrien:
When feelings are too big for words by ClockworkCaptain
When Luka takes a gig playing for a drag show he's falls hard and fast for the drag queen Buttercup who uses her performances to work through her own emotions. Meanwhile Adrien's been using drag to work through his own emotions and thinks maybe Luka coming back into his life and showing interest might mean a second chance. Made for @mlsecretsanta 2022
One of the issues I tend to have with Luka shipfics, and with Lukadrien especially (though I think Lukanette actually has this problem worse) is how Luka tends to disappear within the fic and the pairing, feeling more like “The Love Interest” than his own person. Not so here! While most of the intrigue surrounds Adrien, I still got the sense of Luka being his own person, not just existing in the fic for Adrien.
I adored Adrien getting to display an aspect of himself through persona and performance - that does align well with how he approaches Chat Noir - and overall I just had a lot of fun with this fic!
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forever (and a little bit) by @rainbow-arrow
Now the world was out of tune. It was messy and blurry and Luka could not fathom waking up tomorrow and accepting his new life. He had less than nothing. How could he care about anything when the better half of his melody was replaced with silence. --- see also: Luka's villain origin story
This is a tragedy, don't go into it expecting a happy ending. Adrien breaks up with Marinette because he's upset over her lying to him about his father's fate and not telling him he's a sentimonster, and gradually becomes closer to Luka instead, first as a friend and later as a lover. There are fragments of story from the future that let you know this love story isn't going to last...
It's rated M, though I think that's mostly because of Adrien's injuries. I can see why it's M rated, but I think most teens should be fine reading this.
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Two is Company by Shadownoble
Adrien’s father wants him to play for an upcoming party. Only this time he won’t be doing it alone.
This Lukadrien fic's adorable! Luka's got selective mutism, which Adrien takes in stride. I love how their relationship develops, they're smitten with each other! Though of course while Gabriel brought the two of them together, he's an obstacle too. Because he's a dick.
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Julerose:
How Could I Not? by SorryJustAnotherPerson
In fairy tale books, Princesses were saved by nights from ferocious dragons. Those books were not their story, but Rose was happy to flip over a new page with her Juleka every single day. Many years ago, she was put to this tower by her parents and her kingdom, along with a fire breathing dragon, so she could find her prince charming one day. How foolish for them to not calculate her falling in love with the dragon. I mean seriously. How could she not?
I love fairy tale type stories, especially fractured fairy tales. And Juleka being a dragon is awesome. This is just a fun and adorable story.
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You’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess by @mexicancat-girl
With Team Miraculous now full-time holders, Ladybug has them patrolling in pairs like her and Chat Noir. New partners Pigella and Purple Tigress get along phenomenally, their easy banter and similar wavelengths making working with each other a joy in and out of combat. But sometimes Tigress is surprised just how close she is with her partner. Sometimes she tries not to feel too guilty thinking about it.
There’s some nice Julerose here! I love them kinda getting into a lovesquare with each other, though it’s not as much of a problem as it is in canon since it’s reciprocal in every relationship and they’re both down for a poly. It’s fun, and I love the “Luka attempting to woo some of his love interests” plot going on in the background XD.
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Chlobrina:
Tides of Time by JayJoy3000
Chloe, to her disdain, attends a prestigious university in London where she happens to run into her traitorous, ex-best friend who left Paris years ago without an explanation. But Sabrina is not the shy pushover she once was... Or, the one where Chloe Bourgeois absolutely does NOT spend months pining after Sabrina Raincomprix. No, that would be ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.
I love how this fic handles Chloe, this is a Chloe who's realized her parents are crap and decided to try to be better, and made some real friends with Juleka and Luka (and seems to be on decently friendly terms with the rest of the class, but they don't come up much), but still has a ways to go, with not really understanding why Sabrina ghosted her, that Sabrina wasn't as happy as she thought.
Also at the beginning of the story Chloe still believes she's straight. Chloe is the ONLY one who believes Chloe is straight XD.
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Hanahaki by @generalluxun
First fic: Late Bloomer
On what might very well be the last night of her life, Sabrina Raincomprix pulls out a very special scrapbook, pressed between the pages is the past, the past she has never shared with anyone. She relives how she got to this moment one page at a time, preparing herself for the end. A phone call interrupts her self-imposed exile and brings news that could change her life forever. Even if it does though the question looms... change it how?
I love this series, how it shows how both Sabrina and Chloe have changed, how bad Chloe's circumstances are, and how much she needs help. She's not in good shape when Sabrina reunites with her - she's got a pretty severe eating disorder, for one thing - and Sabrina can't just... leave things like they are.
I love the delving into of Chloe's and Sabrina's psychology and viewpoints, and them both growing as a result (this is solely from Sabrina's perspective, but Chloe's the focus of the plot, so you see a lot of her).
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DJWifi:
Strangely Familiar by @sunfoxfic
Alya Césaire’s life is perfect. Indeed, between the success of the Ladyblog, how well she’s doing in school, and the fact that she’s a superhero who has never bore the weight of a crisis of epic proportions, her life almost couldn’t be better. Almost. But Alya has always been a go-getter, and so she’ll chase after that perfect life if it kills her. Which is how she ends up rushing to move out of her father’s apartment and in with Marinette, Adrien, and a complete stranger: Nino Lahiffe. And in fact, her life does seem perfect — she and Nino are fast friends. They spend a lot of time together and get to know each other really well. But in the end, fortunate situations will bear unfortunate truths, and she learns things about herself that aren’t quite comfortable. Like I said, though: Alya has always been a go-getter, and she won’t let new feelings deter her from chasing after her perfect life.
This is the single longest DJWifi-centric fic on AO3 (which is a travesty) and it is GLORIOUS. Alya and Nino are both well fleshed-out here, with their own problems and baggage they’re dealing with, but it’s easier together.
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disconnected by just_an_ordinary_fan
Lady Wifi believes she might be the only one who does not want to obey Hawkmoth's orders. When she sees another akuma hesitate in the battle, she finds she might not be entirely alone.
I actually wrote my own fic, Nullius in Verba, based off of this one. It’s short but has an intriguing premise, with all the akumas being transported to this warehouse after the fight’s over, having been basically forced to do Hawkmoth’s bidding. The akumas also don’t seem to remember who they were before, or even that they WERE ordinary people before, which is an interesting twist.
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Alyanette:
is it chill that you're in my head? by bringthestorm
Alya stared at the picture plastered across the homepage of every single tabloid and news site, whispering every curse she could think of under her breath. SHOCKING SECRET ROMANCE BETWEEN LADYBLOGGER AND PARISIAN SUPERVILLAIN REVEALED!!! the headline announced, casually shouting the words she had been dreading for all of Paris to read. --- Alya had always assumed that someday Paris would discover that she had secretly been kissing their most wanted vigilante, but she had never thought it would happen so soon. As the domino effects of her relationship with Ladybug go spiraling through her life, Alya turns her sights towards the one responsible: the elusive superhero Hawkmoth. AKA Someone outs Alya and her girlfriend so she retaliates by deciding to take down Hawkmoth 
I recommend this to anyone who either A. Loves Alya and wants to see more of her in a starring role, or B., wants to see an AU where Parisians could feasibly believe that Hawkmoth is the good guy, and that Ladybug and Chat Noir are, if not villains, at least reckless.
---
the best laid plans (of bugs and bakers) by @mexicancat-girl
Paris is buzzing with the appearance of a new ladybug-themed hero, Scarabella. Alya decides to use her second hero identity to help her best friend Marinette. A bit of her flirting with Marinette is bound to make Marinette’s crushes jealous and finally ask her out! Her plan is fool-proof…! Except when it’s not. Not enough people are talking about Scarabella flirting with Marinette. How can Alya properly help her best friend if the news can’t be bothered to cover Marinette’s budding romance with Scarabella and only posts things about Marinette with Chat Noir?! So Alya puts her all into her plan, upping up her flirting each time she appears as the newbie hero Scarabella. This totally does not backfire in any way.
I adore fics that center on Alya, I haven’t exactly been shy about that fact. This is a nice one for some Alyanette adorableness! (And some Scarabella and Chat banter, I really enjoyed reading that as well). “Fake” flirting to make crushes jealous tends to turn real very quickly, and this is no exception. It’s hilarious, Alya’s the last one to figure out that her romantic relationship with Marinette is very much real XD.
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Feluka:
Boomer!Luka: FeLuka Ending series by @19thsentry-blog
In the Shadows (the first fic in the series) summary:
On one side is Luka, 140-year-old Snake Miraculous holder and keeper of the Guardian's secrets, on the other is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a relatively newly minted hero of Paris and Guardian of the Miracle Box. Each is looking to fulfill their promises to their now gone mentors to reunite the Kwamis and keep them safe. Sounds simple--until you throw in a rocky start, the Atlantic Ocean, Félix Graham de Vanily, and a whole host of secrets…and suddenly simple becomes complicated (story of Marinette's life, right?).
So this is obviously way outside my normal wheelhouse. I don’t typically read Lukanette fics, even ones that turn into FeLuka later on in the series (though boy it becomes apparent quickly that the author’s fascinated with FeLuka’s dynamic.) But this one is really good, with the best Luka-centric fics I’ve ever read, and some of the best Felix-centric content as well. I love how Luka has his own baggage here, with all the pressure of wandering around for over a century, looking after the few Miraculous he found, trying to keep what’s left of the Order alive, unaware of Fu’s survival or of the Miraculous user’s re-emergence in Paris. There’s a lot of focus on Luka’s own feelings and thoughts and problems, not just on helping other people with them. 
The plot works even without the romantic aspect, so even if Lukanette isn’t a pairing that draws you in, I still recommend this fic, so long as you don’t actively dislike the pairing itself. And even though it’s a Lukanette fic, Adrien and Alya are treated fairly and with respect. Adrien may not end up with Marinette and is bummed about it, but the narrative is still kind to him overall, there’s clearly no ill well towards him, or Alya for that matter. (There are later fics in the series that focus more on Adrien just healing and coping and living after finding out that his father’s a villain and his mom’s been in the basement this whole time, and in the multiversal travel fic, Alya gets some standout appearances as Scarabella which are fun).
And FELIX - it’s clear that 19thsentry has this whole conception about Felix’s psychology. He’s wrapped in a ton of self-loathing until it started to consume him, made him lash out. Him being a sentimonster, wanting to get the Peacock Miraculous, actually gave him some direction for that at least. And he’s just in this pit of his own making, until he meets Luka, who can see through him when no one else can, who cares for him even though he doesn’t understand why, who’d been through so much over the years and yet kept himself kind. He’s attracted like a moth to a flame, infuriated that he cares, yet not able to stop himself from caring about this mysterious, infuriating musician. 
Yeah if you can’t tell this is the series that really sold me on FeLuka as a couple.
Oh yeah, one of the fics in here is M-rated, and it does earn the M rating for sexual content, though it’s nothing too major.
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See This Chance by @19thsentry-blog
Luka died in 2016. Yep. Crushed by the Arc de Triumph when Mayura’s Robustus slammed into it. It was kind of a big deal, but once you’re dead, you’re dead—especially when there’s no Lucky Charm to bring you back. Luka’s been dealing with it in the typical ways. Written for FeLuka week 2023.
Yes, this is FeLuka. Not one of the typical ships I read, but I ain’t opposed to it, and this is a nice foray into the pairing. I love ghost AUs! Luka’s just fumbling around, unsure what to do with his incorporeal existence, until he starts haunting Felix. It’s an intriguing plot and I gotta admit, I wish it was longer so it could be fleshed out more, but what’s here is good.
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One-offs:
Come Take My Hand by @carelisswriting
Luka heard his soulmate for the first time when he was ten. All he knows about her is that she likes fencing. It's just a coincidence that Kagami likes fencing, right? (Lukagami Soulmate AU, written for the Miraculous Ladybug Secret Santa Exchange!)
I’m a sucker for soulmate fics, and this had an interesting take on it, with your soulmate able to hear you thinking only about the thing you’re most passionate about. Loved Kagami’s way of showing Luka she’s his soulmate especially!
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Attack of the Crystal Zombies by @trainsinanime
Kagami had spent more and more time hanging out with Zoé, talking about things like families, expectations and crushes on Marinette. It was only natural, probably, that she would help Zoé practice flirting. That was definitely a great idea. Granted, the deadly Akuma battle around them was a bit of an issue…
Quality Zoegami fic here! I loved how Kagami kept thinking she was bad at flirting, but it was sure working on Zoe XD. The akuma attack going on around them, interweaving with their conversation, added a bit of spice to the whole affair!
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All Of Them? Every Single One? by @liiinerle
It turns out that Marinette loves a lot more people than she’d initially thought.
This is hilarious and adorable. Tikki lays out how Marinette has a crush on basically every girl she’s met - and even girls she doesn’t know are girls yet XD. 
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Emotional Mountain Ranges by @liiinerle
After Zoé’s attempted romantic confession to Marinette is interrupted by an incensed Chloé and Audrey Bourgeois, she’s left distraught and adrift, a crying mess in an alleyway far from home. Ladybug saves her from the incoming akuma, and tries to help her back on her feet - and Zoé wonders what she could possibly have done to earn this much attention from a superhero…
Lovely Zoenette fic here! I especially like how Marinette talks to Zoe, reassures her that she’s good enough, that she (as Ladybug) isn’t as perfect and composed as she thinks, and just… tries to get Zoe to have more confidence in herself. It’s mostly from Zoe’s perspective too, which I like since there aren’t a lot of Zoe POV fics.
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Swimming in Circles by @generalluxun
Life has moved on for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She’s not where she thought she would be seven years ago, but she’s still in a good place. Classes, hobbies, friends, her life is full despite the lingering shades of her faded yet sweet middle-school romance. Then just as quick at the first time, someone drops into her life and turns her into an absolute mess once more. Love and crushes might be her undoing, but she’s got a little more experience this time to weather the storm. This fateful stranger stirs memories as well as emotions inside of her, and with a forthrightness her old self would be jealous of, Marinette takes the plunge.
So this is a Trans fic, with Marinette’s new crush being a trans version of a certain classmate who she doesn’t recognize, who’s changed a lot, for the better. I like how it deals with the baggage she has with that person, has her think that through.
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Three’s company by @torvalvt
Kagami has been doing her best for years to ignore her feelings for her friends. It doesn’t help that Adrien and Marinette insist on spending as much time as possible with her, even going so far as inviting her along on their dates together. If only the affection she felt for them wouldn’t get in the way of their relationship. Because it is growing harder and harder to tamp down her feelings with how close they are getting to her.
This is adorable. Adrien and Marinette really want Kagami to join their relationship and she just doesn’t dare hope for it. If you want some adorable Adrigaminette from Kagami’s perspective, I recommend checking this fic out!
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Stone Streak by kingxuppu
Ladybug and Violet Tigress had been fighting the mysterious Duskwing for eight years now. Through the years, the two have grown stronger together and even gotten married, they are waiting until they finally beat Duskwing to start a family. At least, that was the plan. When Juleka gets confronted with the realization that her friends are starting families of their own, she realizes just how badly she wants to be a mother.
Due to unfortunate circumstances, Juleka and Marinette get the chance to adopt Juleka's young modeling friend Adrien.
Maybe they aren't quite a traditional family, but with magic, rockstars, and fame, normal was never an option.
Via Discovery: There are actually two terms of venery for tigers, depending on the makeup of the group. The first is a streak of tigers and this refers to a female tiger and her cubs.
Now this is a rare pairing, there’s not a lot of Julenette fics! Adrien and Rose actually have some ship tease going on, the whole kid group in canon got broken up into two groups here, one that remained around canon age (so like 13) which notably consists of Chloe, Rose, and Adrien, and then I think everyone else are adults in their mid-twenties. It’s weird seeing Adrien as Marinette’s and Juleka’s son, but hey it works! I love how Juleka really showed Adrien the ropes on modeling and became a Mama tiger for him, the fic’s mostly just very sweet, though with a surprisingly dark final act. 
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In Direct Opposition by @generalluxun
Alya Cesaire is a brand new student to Francis Dupont, to Paris even. The first student she meets is one Chloé Bourgeois, and Alya is determined to make a friend. Things advance Chaotically. Her new 'friend' is definitely a handful, and suddenly Paris has a supervillain and two brand new superheroes! Alya finds herself balancing a lot of things, trying to live up to her ideals and those of her icons.
And then reality seems to contradict itself.
As time progresses it seems to happen more often. Becoming a hero, battling villains, staying alive, working through friendships. Something is lurking, tweaking events at times, changing them, and no one seems aware. Alya will need all her wits to get to the bottom of this. Her investigative mind can only get her so far though, and then she needs to rely on her friends. This is not a foe you can beat head on.
I betaed this entire fic, it’s really good! I adore the focus on Alya’s philosophy here, her determination to be a hero, to help people and defeat evil - and that defeating evil means trying to reform the people doing bad things when possible, to try to save EVERYONE, even the “villain”. I thought it was really clever the ways Alya would redirect Chloe and subtly encourage her to be a better person, while also trying to get the people around her to give her a second chance and keep an open mind. 
Also Alya and Chloe are an adorable sapphic couple XD.
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Herbs And Steam by @liiinerle
Juleka le Flor Blef, nature witch from near the forest of Couffaine, arrives at Eiffel Castle so she can partake in the Queen's Trials - a contest to determine the strongest witch in all of France. She wants to prove the strength of her magic, but when she arrives, her attention is quickly distracted by two very interesting women: Kagami, the princess, who seems to act nothing like a princess should; and Marinette, the blacksmith, who has created a magic all her own through metal, steam, and ingenuity. Juleka is immediately besotted with both of them, and needs to work extra hard to focus on her magic. Juleka also soon becomes aware that there is stronger magic at Eiffel castle than she had expected. For one thing, there's a tree in the courtyard put there years ago by a witch whose powers seem to surpass hers; for another, there's Alya la Pluvie Versaunt, who must be the most powerful mage Juleka has ever met...
Unusual poly here, there aren't a lot of Juleka/Kagami/Marinette fics! I love the world here, getting to see all these different witches honing their craft, and Juleka making friends with many of them - though especially the nonwitches Kagami and Marinette, of course XD. If you like some femslash or a good fantasy AU, this fic should scratch that itch!
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Graveyard Love Series by @liiinerle
A brief two-parter series which chronicles what happens after Lila dies suddenly, and Marinette finds out that she's the one saved as Lila's emergency contact on her phone. In part one, Marinette seeks answers with Alya's help - and what she finds ends up testing their friendship. In part two, Alya seeks to rebuild their relationship - and perhaps build it into something more.
First fic in series: Absent Soul
Just for a moment, Alya seemed speechless, her eyes as wide as the hallway was long. “You’re really going to start to believe her now?” Marinette sighed. “It’s not her I believe. I just… I don’t think she could manage all… this if it was fake. And besides… me, her emergency contact? That’s too bizarre to be a lie.” Even more than that, it was too bizarre to be true. So what could Lila possibly hope to achieve? “I’m not sure I agree with you,” said Alya. “But I’m not gonna let you go this alone. And I’m pulling you away if I smell anything cooking.” The thing was, Marinette wasn’t sure she agreed with herself. Nothing made sense. Even just knowing more would help settle the tumult in her brain, which felt like it had been speeding up almost imperceptibly for every door she’d passed through since the balcony. --- Marinette suddenly learns that she's saved as Lila's emergency contact on her phone... the same day she learns that Lila has been in a fatal accident. She is then pulled through a week of responsibilities and discoveries she never imagined having before, and a growing fondness for someone she once hated.
So this is fascinating, I love how it explored the insanity of whatever bizarre situation Lila has going on. Marinette's great here, she doesn't understand why Lila did the things she did, or what her background truly was, but if she had no one else, then at least she has Marinette to make sure her remains are taken care of properly. Though perhaps to a worrying extent. Thankfully, Alya's here as well to give support, and perhaps an intervention if things go too far. The second fic in the series focuses around Alya giving that intervention, of a sort.
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And Mark Ronson Can Get Stuffed by @liiinerle
Marinette gets a call from Vivica, Jagged Stone's guitarist, with a proposition. She wants a producer - and she's heard Marinette's the best one for the job. At least, that's what Jagged says, and well, the only real competition is Bob Roth... ... but Marinette still isn't prepared for the whirlwind of feelings she'll get spinning through her brain whenever she sees Vivica play. Or for the realisations she'll make about herself as she sits engulfed in a type of music that feels like it gets her, and gazes up at the angel who's holding the guitar.
So this is a RARE rare pair, I've never seen Vivinette before! Man though, is this a great first fic for the pairing! I love seeing Marinette's efforts to be the best producer she can be for Vivica, not totally realizing at first why she's so nervous and determined to be the best she can be for her... and then becoming all too aware of her feelings XD. I especially adore how enamored Marinette becomes with Vivica's songs, being deeply affected by them but unable to put her feelings into words well enough to give feedback.
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Stop Time by @liiinerle
— she put her hand on the page, blocking it so the words wouldn’t scream so loudly at her. They had screamed more than enough already. Gritting her teeth, she pulled her fingers together, crumpling the paper slightly — just enough that it didn’t look so pristine and mocking. It needed to be full of despair, in every possible way. “Marinette —” started Mullo. “No! Never again. Marinette is… gone, forever.” She let go of the paper. Now it lay alone in the light, as the last thing she could ever tell them. That she loved them, that she’d miss them, that she would never talk to them again. A suicide note. Of sorts. ----- Fu accidentally names Marinette as the new guardian, and not Ladybug. She's forced to fake her own death and go into hiding in order to get away from Hawk Moth. She finds a hiding spot in the Louvre, but there she's forced to face the effects of her going away by a very unexpected source: her friend Alix.
Definitely mind the tags on this one! But if it ain't triggering to you, then I highly recommend reading it. You can really feel Marinette's struggles here, with basically making herself homeless, unable to reach out to her friends and family, needing to steal just to feed herself and the kwamis, and then dealing with everyone in her life grieving... and then moving on. Except for a few people who don't...
It's just... it's really good, really heart-wrenching.
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The Only Love We Keep by @nemaliwrites
Zoé is used to wanting things she can’t have — loving people who do not love her back. She’s made peace with that. But as soon as she meets Scarabella, she’s a goner. Or, five times Zoé’s love wasn’t reciprocated, and one time it was.
I love this analysis of Zoe and her circumstances, her mindset, her philosophy based on how she's grown up. How she yearns for her mom to actually love her, but she just... doesn't. And how she finds friends who actually care for her, and someone who actually wants her.
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The Black Cat of the Family by Anonymous
To Felix, Chat Noir is freedom. Pure freedom, unhindered by anything (well, except perhaps a little too much dedication to Ladybug). He goes where he pleases when he pleases. He acts so ridiculous, like no one was ever watching, even when everyone was watching. He chafes at orders and authority, even when the orders are coming from Ladybug herself. He's free to be whoever he wants, in a way Felix only wishes he could be. So of course he starts flirting with the catboy. It also doesn't hurt that the superhero is easy on the eyes. Chat Noir, meanwhile, is simply trying to figure out how to reject his cousin without revealing his own secret identity. But when has anything in his love life ever worked out for him? Or, in other words: Somehow the Fathom-Graham de Vanily-Agreste family becomes even more dysfunctional in brand new ways.
This was fun, I liked the natural way Chat caught Felix's attention with his kindness, wit, and hidden depths. It makes sense why Felix would slowly develop a crush on him, while Chat just thinks that he's having fun with his cousin.
Also Chat's reaction when he realizes that Felix is, in fact, confessing his crush on him, is just priceless XD.
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charliemwrites · 2 years ago
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Uhhh this is sort of to get me back in the swing of writing since some people may have noticed I haven’t done much this week. It’s… it’s been a week, but that’s fine, those happen.
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Anyway, concept comes from @ceilidho’s concept/drabble of “military asset Soap” and heavily inspired also by @391780’s Nikto version. Please go check out theirs because they’re brilliantly written.
(There will be a part 2 because this got longer than expected.)
Content: Verbal Threats, Dirty Talk, Objectification, Dub-Con, Name-calling. Please stay safe! 💕
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You thought you were done with this.
Got out by making the best of a bad situation. Honorable discharge following an injury after your last base was infiltrated. “Data analysts” (hackers) can’t have unpredictable hand spasms in the middle of time-sensitive decryptions. So, you got out.
And now you’re all but being dragged back.
You don’t recognize the two stone-faced men flanking you, but you recognize the woman they sit you in front of.
“Laswell.”
She doesn’t look older, but she looks more tired. Like she hasn’t slept since she informed you of your discharge.
“It’s good to see you again,” she says without smiling. It’s good to see you; it’s not good that you’re seeing her. “I wish it was… I wish this wasn’t the situation.”
You arch your eyebrows. Have never known her to speak without measuring the exact dimensions of her words first. She always slides them into spaces perfectly designed for them, builds towers and forts out of syllables.
There’s a treacherous unintentional volume to the word “this” that prickles across your neurons.
“And what’s ‘this’ exactly?” you ask.
“A recently recovered asset,” she explains. You expect a dossier of some kind to be set in front of you. She links her fingers together on top of her desk and looks you in the eye. “He’s asking for you.”
You blink. Never was any good at staring contests with anything but a screen.
“And who,” you speak slowly, poking at the edges of whatever she’s hedging around, “is he?”
A pause, heavy enough to slowly start pressing the air from your lungs.
“Do you remember John MacTavish?” she asks.
You frown, rifling through mental files.
John MacTavish of Task Force 141. Soap. You remember liking him, even though he made a shy, anti-social part of you uneasy. He had a starting problem, and a smiling problem. Or maybe you were the one with the problem - with the way he would often stare and sometimes smile.
You taught him how to find files out in the field. How to take from the enemy and corrupt entire systems. He was good at it. A digital pyromaniac. Used to hand-deliver drives and disks to you, sometimes still bloody and bruised from getting them.
You heard through the gossip vine that he was MIA (or maybe went AWOL?) at some point. Was shipped out to your final assignment soon after.
“Is he the… asset?” you ask.
Her eyes do this funny flicker thing then, and the corner of her mouth tenses. You press your thumb into your palm as your fingers twitch.
“He’s asking for you,” she explains, “and he has information we need.”
Between the lines: we need you to get the information from him. The error code flashing in your mind demands to know why.
“Why?” you wonder.
Maybe you’ve been out too long; forgot that “why” is blasphemy to the government. The answer will always be “because we said so.”
You already miss being out.
“You’ll have to ask him yourself,” she answers and stands.
Laswell takes the lead, the same blank-faced guards bring up the rear. This doesn’t feel like you’ve been volun-told to do them a favor. It feels like you’ve been sentenced without a trial.
You’re led down silent, nondescript halls, through heavy gray doors, and into shiny metal elevators. Everything needs a keycard you’ve not been given. The quiet gets heavier, meaner the deeper you go.
There’s the vague sense that you’re underground when Laswell finally stops at a heavily guarded door. She pauses, steals a glance at you that starts a high-pitched alarm in your head.
“He’s different now,” she says finally, “I’m sorry in advance.”
A guard unlatches the door. She nods you ahead to enter first. You hesitate, don’t like the change in light beyond. Behind you, one of the guards shifts. Don’t like that either.
On tingling legs, you slink through the cracked door. It shuts with a gavel’s finality behind you. Alone.
The room you’ve been tricked into barely deserves the word. It’s more a tiny patch of sequestered floor, little bigger than an office cubicle. Clean linoleum and unmarked walls. In the corner, a camera blinks.
But in front of you are bars; a wall of them. A door interrupting the grid-pattern. Beyond, it’s pitch black. You almost make the mistake of stepping forward.
“Stay there,” Laswell’s voice commands. Staticky. An intercom.
From the shadows, a growl. Low, rough. Just this side of human. You plaster yourself to the door you came through, hair standing on end.
The lights come on. It’s only because you’ve frozen that you don’t scream, all of it trapped up in a constricted throat.
The man in front of you is not Soap. It’s not even John MacTavish. It’s a very convincing beast wearing his face. Sort of.
More scars than you remember. A thicker beard too. His signature Mohawk is just a suggestion in the dark brown mess of his hair - like he’s been running his hands through it and ripping out any tangles along the way.
He’s not moving now though. Not except the deep heave of his broad chest. Could be a statue save for that. He’s staring; his eyes are bluer than you remember. Bluer and blanker. Nothing in them except a flicker of something vicious, something covetous. Something that’s peering out from this man.
“We brought her, just like you asked.” Laswell’s voice again, wary and expectant.
Soap doesn’t respond. He inhales deep, gaze still locked with yours. It’s loud, purposeful. Your stomach twists.
“Just as sweet as I remember.” His voice is gravel on ice, resonates in his barrel chest. Fills up the room like a rockslide. You curl your fingers against the door behind you. “You remember me, bonnie?”
It takes your brain a second to realize he’s talking to you. As if he could be speaking to anyone else. Your shadow maybe; she’s always been braver than you.
His eyes twitch, narrowing ever so slightly. His patience winding down, tick, tick, tick.
You jerk your head in a nod. His eyes burn.
“Good.” He cracks his neck. It feels entirely inorganic that he can move just that part of his body. “Would have to punish you if you didn’t.”
You swallow, dig up your voice from the crevice it slunk into.
“Laswell.” Your voice is too high, too nervous. Soap bares his teeth, slams his fist against the all-too-bendable barrier between you two. It shocks you, frightens you. How he could be so still and then so alive all at once.
“John, we brought her. That was the deal.”
You feel sick with something unspoken as he shakes his head.
“No, the deal was you give her to me. Do you see my fuckin’ hands on ‘er? My teeth?”
“The information first.”
You feel sick with rage. Like you’re going to throw up with the disgust that poisons your blood. Your legs nearly give out as you slide to the ground, pressing a hand over your mouth, filling with saliva. Stomach rolling.
Force yourself to breathe through your nose. Would work better if you could close your eyes but prey instinct won’t let you, survival too strong to dare look away from the predator now pacing at the bars. He’s agitated, devolving quickly into anger. You’d tell Laswell to stop pissing him off if that didn’t mean tossing you to him. More than she has, anyway.
“We will take her back if you don’t deliver your end of the deal.”
Like you’re some reward to be given and taken at someone else’s will. An incentive for good behavior.
The military used to make you feel like a dog - sit, stay, bark on command. But you’d take that over being the training treat any day.
Soap snarls. He sounds feral. Spits out a set of numbers, eyes pinned to you. When he’s done, he crouches down. Knees against the wall of bars.
“S’alright, little bird. C’mere and I’ll make it all better,” he coos, beckoning you with two fingers.
You press your lips together against a whimper. His expression twitches. You suck in a breath—
“We’ll need to verify those coordinates first,” Laswell says.
The noise that rips out of Soap makes you shake. You didn’t know people could make sounds like that; like something with teeth and claws and blood matted in its fur. He stands, huge and terrifying.
He curses and threatens (awful, cruel) but Laswell doesn’t respond again. You doubt she’s even listening. And you just stay still and quiet, hoping to avoid his attention altogether, pancaked to the wall.
As is the pattern today, your reasonable hope is eventually dashed. Can almost feel the exact moment Soap’s attention refocuses on you. Like a the click of switch.
And he’s down again, crooning at you so sweetly. Like you didn’t just watch him come within a breath of destroying his cell.
“You know it’s not fair, don’t you,” he murmurs. “You know that I’m owed you. C’mere.”
“I’m not a thing,” you snip, still too high. Almost petulant if not for the frightened crack in the middle. He flashes teeth.
“‘Course you are, hen,” he says, almost laughing. You realize with a jolt that you’ve amused him. “You’re my sweet, pretty thing with the sweet, pretty cunt that I’m gonna fuck and breed.”
Your voice slithers back into the abyss, snatched away by the smoke and shadow promises in his own.
“And you know that’s what you’re for, don’ you?” he continues, voice dripping lower and lower. “You know that you’re mine.”
You shake your head, want to explain that you didn’t have a choice. Government goons have been shuffling you about from place to place, only the illusion of free will, like horse blinders. Keeping you docile and complacent.
You don’t think Soap cares about things like logic or personhood right now though. Or at all.
“Come. Here.”
Hard metal between you, and every atom in your body screams not to comply. So you don’t.
When you shake your head, he snarls and slams his fist into the barrier again. You squeak this time, can’t help it, and try to become one with the wall.
He rages for a few minutes. Demands you, your compliance. At some point you just have to draw your knees up to your chest and lean your head against them. If he could get through, he would have by now. Let his anger become a terrifying background noise, a soundtrack for fear.
It’s when he goes quiet again that the fear returns. Your head snaps up. He’s staring again, still. Just like before. His arms are crossed - biceps huge, straining. There’s a sizable bulge pressed against the bars. Obscene.
“Best get your rest now, little girl,” he rumbles. Even and deceptively calm. “Because when that door opens, I’m not gonna be nice about it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut. “Stop it.”
A puff of air. You can’t tell if it’s amused or annoyed. “Say it while you can, ‘cause it won’t make a difference later.”
You shudder through your next inhale, heart pounding. Try to wrestle yourself under control, convince yourself that Laswell won’t actually give you up to him. Not when she’s already gotten what she wanted from him.
A sound breaks you from your frantic meditation, slick and wet. You look up without thinking. Soap is fucking viciously into his fist, eyes trained on you. The head of his cock is flushed an angry red, dripping with precum, shiny and needy.
“Regret being a little bitch now?” he growls. “Now that you see what’s going in that prissy little cunt?”
You clench and cramp at the very thought. He’s massive, not just long but thick. You wouldn’t be shocked if your fingers didn’t touch wrapped around him — not that you should be considering those logistics. It’ll just freak you out more.
“Can smell your wet pussy from here, hen. Bet I’ll knock you up on the first try.” He squeezes almost cruelly, knuckles banging against the bars as his hips jerk.
You press your thighs together, trying not to think about it. Not to think about all that bulk pinning you down and using you. Big, rough hands and sharp, mean teeth while he—
“Stop,” you grit out, to yourself this time.
His breath shudders, a rough noise dragging up his throat. You twitch back as cum splatters the floor, coats the metal in milky drops. You stare at the mess, mortified.
“Well?” he rasps and your eyes snap back to his. “Going to lick it up like the bitch you are?”
You swallow and curl up tighter. He takes that for the denial it is.
“S’alright,” he says, “you’ll get a taste soon enough.”
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unscripted-if · 2 years ago
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DEMO || PINTEREST
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Lights…
Camera…
Action!
Those three words, along with the flashing of cameras and screaming of thousands of people, had made up your life for over a decade. Following your rising star into the stratosphere where you could look at where you’ve been upon your lofty perch in the sky. You were the ruler of your universe and there was nothing that’d bring you down…
… Until, of course, there was…
Suddenly in a free fall, without any chance of catching yourself in sight, you’re hurtling back to the ground with only one thought, one goal, in your mind: Find your way back up.
When a new project comes your way, new opportunities arrive with it, but nothing is ever cut and dry within Hollywood. You’ll have to put your all into this movie if you want any chance at salvaging your career.
Try to stay on script…
Unscripted is a slice-of-life interactive fiction where romance, drama, and the trivialities of life intertwine to create your story. Rated 18+ for explicit language, optional sexual content, drug/alcohol use, and violence.
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Features
✰ Customizable MC: Name, gender (male, female, non-binary), sexuality, appearance, some of your past projects, and history with a few of the characters.
✰ Maintain your fan base and make sure that they haven’t forgotten about you. Will you earn more as your journey progresses?
✰ Be interviewed from sidewalk reporters to one of the biggest Late Night Shows within America. Just make sure that you make a good impression— there is such a thing as bad publicity after all.
✰ Romance one of the characters that’ll either have the crowd roaring or scratching their heads. Will you find common ground with your sworn rival? Take a chance at love with someone from your past? Give your hot-and-cold manager a shot? Time will tell…
✰ Adopt a new friend that will hopefully make your lonely nights less so.
✰ Rise back to the ranks of Super Stardom and take back your throne.
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Romances
The Rival: Angel Sinclair [M/F] — Ever since you arrived in Hollywood, Angel Sinclair has been there. You’re not quite sure when, or where, your rivalry even began, only that it’s made a ton of tabloids rich with the stories they’d print due to it, and you’re even less sure why you keep running into them on the same lot you’re shooting your newest movie. Is it another twisted form of punishment? With an icy exterior that puts the Arctic to shame, you don’t think you’ve ever seen them smile— at least when they’re not in front of the camera or interacting with fans. Will you uncover more as your random run-ins start losing some of their randomness?
Route: Rivals to Lovers.
The Manager: Kieran/Kiera Walker [M/F] — Probably one of the few reasons you’re still where you are. With a keen mind, a sharp eye for detail, and an even sharper tongue, K has never taken it easy on you, and they’re definitely not doing so now. While pragmatic about their approach, they’re not afraid to tell you what they think, when the time calls for it, which is something that’s definitely caused some tension in the past. Still, you don’t know what you’d do without them; as they’ve stayed steadily by your side through it all. And you don’t think they’re going anywhere anytime soon.
Route: Slow Burn.
The Director: Spencer Hale [M/F] — Last Laugh, the title of the movie you’re now part of, is the passion project that Spencer has been working on for years; trying tirelessly to get it to the silver screen. You would know— after all you were there when they began to write it back in college. Despite not having seen them in years, the gentle look in their eyes hasn’t shifted in the slightest; even if it is a bit more wary now, they don’t hesitate in offering you the same level of kindness as before. Though, even that, still feels different, wrong somehow. Can you recover what’s been lost between you? Or will you forever be two ships passing in the night?
Route: Ex-Best Friend/Lover (can choose if they were your lover or not) || Second Chances
The Newcomer: Cameron/Carmen Rivera [M/F] — An up-and-coming star within Hollywood from the music scene. Having wanted to take a shot at the silver screen for years it’s only with this project that they’ve finally been given the chance— cast as your love interest, no less. You’re not too sure what to make of them. From everything you’ve read they’re sunshine incarnate, with a beaming smile always on their lips, that completely contradicts the darker colors that they typically wear. Something tells you, an almost bone deep intuition, that they’re an array of contradictions all rolled up into one package. Will you ever be able to uncover any of them?
Route: First Love (to them) || Age Gap
The Bodyguard: Roman Locke [M/F] — With a penchant to wear nothing but black, sometimes with muted tones of gray thrown in, you don’t know much about the individual that’s been guarding you with their life for the last five years. Only their stellar history in the Navy, coupled with a possible connection to being a CIA Agent, though that’s never been confirmed, and the other rudimentary facets of their past that any employer needs to know. However, even if they rarely speak, you know that you’re in more than capable hands and that they take their job seriously. But what happens when that professional facade begins to crack?
Route: Bodyguard Romance.
The Assistant: Harley Park [M/F] — Someone who’s very good at their job while also being everywhere and nowhere all at once. You don’t know if they’ll ever get over the embarrassment of your first meeting— with them being in a fandom shirt from a project you had done a couple of years before, with you at center stage on it. With an undeniable charm, if a bit awkward in their approach, Harley is definitely someone that’d you miss interacting with once you got the chance to do so. You just have to get them to actually interact with you first.
Route: Oblivious Love.
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gryffindormarveltwilight · 4 months ago
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Knowing You - Jake Seresin x Reader
A/N: Sorry it has been a while. This is something I wrote ages ago and just got around to finishing. Inspired by the song 'Knowing You' by Kenny Chesney and is predominately written in JAKES POV. It is not the greatest but thought I would post anyway. As always feedback and requests are welcome.
Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, mentions of cheating, mentions of the movie mission, naval inaccuracies, slight swearing, fighting
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Knowing you, you probably got your toes in the sand At a bar on the beach in the sun somewhere Knowing you, you got something cold in your hand Chatting up a stranger without a care
Knowing you, you're still wild and free And knowing you, you're probably way over me
I had been thinking about him a lot in recent days. Jake Seresin. The cocky Top Gun trophy winning pilot who was my best friend since we joined the Naval academy together. The same pilot that I dated from the age of 20 until six months ago when I broke up with him two weeks before my 29th birthday. As I stand here looking at the red neon light of the Hard Deck I can’t help but think of whether he was already here. The best of the best had been called back so I knew he would be coming I just didn’t know when. I wondered what scene I would be walking into would he be there with his arm around some girl while nursing a cold beer and laughing with the other recalled pilots. Or was he sitting out on the beach with the same girl laughing while watching the waves like we used to do when we were down here for our runs at Top Gun, mine when we were 25, then a year later when Jake returned. There was one thing I knew for sure Jake would have moved on from me while I stand here thinking about him. I was pulled out of my thoughts when Pheonix comes up behind me and touches my shoulder.
“I should have known you would be here Chaos.” I turn and hug her, she had been my roommate at the academy and we had been like sisters ever since. I hadn’t seen her in six months, when I called her crying after I ended the relationship with Jake. She had just got back from deployment, I was at her house for two days after the breakup before getting my orders to ship out to a location unknown.
“Pheonix, it is good to see you.”
“Correct me if I am wrong but shouldn’t you be on an aircraft carrier somewhere?”
“Recalled same as you, I landed about an hour ago.”
“So, you haven’t seen him yet.” I shake my head in response, and she grabs my hand. “Let’s do this together then.” As we walk off two other pilots run up behind us calling out to Pheonix, they saw me and quickly introduced themselves as Payback and Fanboy, when I told them my name they seemed starstruck which I laughed off slightly.
As we walk through the doors of the hard deck I hear him before I see him and my breath hitches as he calls out.
“Well well well, if it isn’t Pheonix.” he says it with a smirk as he hands the pool cue to Coyote. I make eye contact with Coyote from behind the pillar I had unintentionally hid behind, and I walk straight towards the bar avoiding the group of pilots forming around the pool table.
“So are you ever going to tell me why you broke up with him?” I hadn’t noticed Coyote step up next to me as I downed a shot of tequila and grabbed my beer.
“I missed you too Coyote.”
“You too Chaos, now are you going to answer my question.”
“Ask him, or more specifically ask him about Allison.” Coyote looked at me with a shocked expression. I finish my beer before looking over once again at the pool table. “tell Pheonix I left, Jake looks happy Coyote, I am glad he is happy with her.”
I walk out of the bar completely unaware of the eyes following me out of the bar.
Knowing you was a free-fall from a hundred thousand feet When you don't even care where you land And knowing you was the kind of rush that you feel When you finally get to sit in with the band
And knowing you, you're still a tumbleweed I only wish that you would tumble back to me
JAKES POV
I caught myself staring at the radio clenching and unclenching my fist as I listened to Chaos and Maverick scream Coyotes name trying to get him out of G-Lock. I relaxed when I finally heard him respond and pull up just in time before burning in. It wasn’t long after that my heart plummeted into my stomach when I heard Maverick yell birdstrike.
“Shit Mav, I am hit, left engine is out, right engine is still spinning trying to restart,”
“Chaos it is on fire don’t……Shit” I hear Maverick yell and Chaos starts swearing
“EJECT CHAOS EJECT!” Coyote screams before the radio goes dead, I don’t know how long I sat there looking at the radio waiting to hear her voice come through. All I could think about was seeing her the other night at the bar and finally after six months getting answers about why she had ended the relationship.
Flashback
I watched as Coyote and Chaos chatted at the bar, Chaos downing a shot of what I can only guess is tequila. She glances over and I quickly turn my head, so she doesn’t see me look as I laugh absentmindedly at something Rooster said to Pheonix. I look over to where she was after a few moments to see her give Coyote a wave as she heads towards the door, I follow her with my eyes thinking about how gorgeous she looks even after not seeing her in six months. I didn’t hear what was being said in the group, but the next thing I felt was a fist hitting me smack in the jaw. I spin back to see Coyote with a fire in his eyes as Payback and Rooster hold him back.
“What the hell Coyote.” I yell at him.
“How could you Hangman! We knew you were an asshole but I never thought you would stoop so low.” He yells back the boys still holding him back as Pheonix approaches telling him this is not the time and place.
“How could I what Coyote.”
“How could you cheat on Chaos!”
I look around at the look on our friends faces when he said it, Pheonix looked down, of course she was not surprised, Payback, Fanboy and Bob looked annoyed and sad but they hadn’t known either of us long enough to show to much emotion towards the situation and then there was Rooster there was a fury in his eyes I hadn’t witnessed in a long time but he managed it as he continued to hold Coyote at bay. I walked out of the bar and sat on the beach nursing my beer holding back tears.
“She came to me you know, in tears heart broken, she couldn’t believe it, then got shipped out two days later, got back about an hour ago. Why Jake, you two were so good together.”
“I didn’t cheat.” It was only then I looked up to see the surprise on Pheonix’s face and it sunk in Chaos really thought I had cheated on her.
“Chaos said she found messages on your phone to Allison, and that she came home early that night and heard you on the phone talking to here talking about meeting up at your usual spot while Chaos was at work. So forgive us Hangman but that sounds like cheating.”
“I didn’t cheat.” I repeated.
“Then explain what the hell she overheard.”
“I was planning my proposal to her.”
I was broken out of the memory by Pheonix grabbing my shoulder. I spin to look at her, I can see tears in her eyes as well listening to her best friend go down was never something you get used to.
“They found her Hangman. She is going to be just fine.” I breathe a sigh of relief at the news. “Why don’t you come to the hospital with us check on her.”
“She won’t want me there.” Pheonix went to argue but I stood up and walked out.
Holdin' my breath 'til the moment When you were gonna leave me too soon
JAKES POV
I didn’t think less than a week later I would have the same feeling of dread. Maverick picked the teams, Payback and Fanboy, Pheonix and Bob and his wing man…..Chaos. We listened as the mission started without a hitch and we listen as they hit the target, which also meant we listened as the 4 daggers fought their way through Coffin Corner, all yelling in complete chaos dodging missiles.
“Chaos, on your six!” yells Maverick.
“Deploying countermeasures……Shit I am out of flares!”
“Evade Chaos Evade!”
“MAVERICK NO!” Chaos screams through the radio.
“Dagger One is down I repeat, Maverick is down.” Pheonix says sadness evident in her voice. I look at Rooster biting back the sad look on his face as I lean forward requesting to fly cover getting knocked back by command. We had almost forgotten about the open line of communication until Pheonix yelled through the radio.
“CHAOS!!” she screamed “Dagger two is down, I repeat dagger two is down. Returning to home base.” This time there was no hiding the sadness in her voice you could tell she was biting back tears. I look over again at Rooster this time he is crying, Maverick was one thing but Chaos she was like his baby sister, Coyote approaches me also fighting off the tears as I once again find myself staring blankly at the radio. I hear the movement on deck that is the other two landing their planes. The next to approach me is Pheonix, who looks at me with tears streaming down her face.
“I never got to tell her.” I say as I break down into tears.
The whole ship went into a spin when it came across the radio that Chaos was supersonic in an F-14. Rooster was quick to jump in his plane as I remain paralysed on the deck Pheonix still next to me. I mumble a prayer for Rooster to get to them in time. It is less then half an hour later when the F-14 is crash landing on the deck. I was quick to move when I see Chaos and Maverick stand up from the wreckage. I wasted no time running to Chaos, who smiles when she sees me. To my surprise she wraps her arms around my neck and presses a kiss to my lips. I look surprised at her.
“Pheonix told me you were planning a proposal and not cheating. I am so sorry for not talking to you about it.” I am stunned and taken aback that she had known and not said anything.
“Marry me?” I ask before I can even process what is happening.
“Yes.” She responds with a wide smile as I pull her in for another kiss.
I'd do it all over 'cause damn it was good knowing you
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inurnctdreams · 1 year ago
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00:00 - l.dh
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idol!haechan x gn!reader
genre: fluff, established relationship, drabble
warnings: swearing, suggestive, mentions of sex, pet names (baby, hyuckie)
wc: 0.7k
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“happy birthday dear hyuckie, happy birthday to you!”
“hi baby, thank you.” donghyuck’s voice is quiet and slightly raspy. nothing you haven’t heard multiple times before, but not what you’d expected when you’d called your boyfriend at exactly midnight in his current time zone.
“did… did i wake you up?” you frown, and your voice must betray your disbelief if his cute little chuckles over the line are anything to go by.
“maybe, i fell asleep like twenty minutes after i ate dinner.”
“were the guys not with you?” you pout. you’d at least taken some comfort in the fact that he’s surrounded by the rest of the dreamies for the start of his birthday if you can’t be there.
“they’re here.” he says. “our intention was to stay up.”
“and you all fell asleep? that’s actually really fucking funny.” you can’t help the giggles that escape you at the thought of all seven of them crowding in one hotel room to see donghyuck’s birthday in, only to not make it to midnight.
“yeah, i guess we were all pretty tired.”
“wait, does that mean i still got to be the first person to say it?!” you say excitedly. it’s not yet his birthday where you are, but you’d be damned if you were gonna let a silly thing like time zones come between you and making sure your boyfriend started off his day showered in love, albeit virtual.
“uh-huh.” he smiles, leaving out the fact that he’d been planning on answering your call before anyone else could wish him happy birthday anyway. you’d been so cutely adamant that distance wouldn’t stop you from being the first. “i miss you so much.” you almost don’t hear the whisper. if you didn’t know him so well, you’d chalk the voice crack up to him only just waking up.
“i miss you too, baby. twenty-one hours.” you let yourselves sit with the bittersweet feeling for a moment. tears begin to form in your own eyes but you blink them away. “i cannot wait to give you your presents, i think i’ve outdone myself this year!”
“all i need is you.” he elongates the vowels in ‘you’, trying to match your cheery tone.
“ew, stop being so greasy! plus, you love presents and i’m still mad my master plan to have them sent to you was ruined.”
“management did have a point about the shipping time issues, plus this way you can see me open them properly.” he reasons. “i can’t wait to hug you again.”
“just hug me?” you smirk.
“this was supposed to be a cute, innocent birthday call, not phone sex!” he gasps dramatically, sending you both into another fit of giggles.
“okay, okay.” you relent. “i guess the whole point of birthday sex is to do it in person.”
“tease.”
“we did not need to hear that.” another voice chimes in, clearly muffled and far away.
“why are you even on the phone so late?” mark questions, sounding closer than jaemin had. “oh shit dude, happy birthday!”
“is it already midnight?” jisung’s voice is muffled, and then you hear rustling and yells for the other boys to wake up.
“i’ll let you go, have fun with the boys!” you smile.
“no!” hyuck immediately whines.
“it’s okay baby, have a good morning and let me know when you’re boarding and landing, yeah?”
“fine.” he sighs, and you can hear the pout in his voice. the mental image of him, bedhead and traces of sleep, has you mourning the fact that you can’t squish his cheeks or kiss his forehead. yet, you remind yourself. “i’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you as soon as i get back.”
“i’m holding you to that.” you smile, ignoring the fake gagging sounds in the background.
“get some rest too, i know you have work in the morning.”
“i’ll try.” you knew it would be difficult to settle your restless brain but he was right, you did have work, plus the stuff you’d planned for when he got home that you had managed to keep a surprise. “happy birthday, hyuckie. i love you.”
“i love you too.” you glance down at your phone when the call ends.
twenty-one hours.
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jinx-xxed · 8 months ago
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Repairs
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☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*
A/N; Something short and simple since I’m very low on time and energy sorry y’all 🙏
Part of Written in the Stars
Summary; You decide to do Kylo Ren a favor. Surely he’d be appreciative like a normal person?
Content; Commander Kylo Ren, General reader, Kylo POV second half, reader is also a mechanic, repairing Kylo’s Silencer, there’s unresolved tension, he doesn’t know how to say thanks, pre-TFA, life in the First Order
Wc; 1.4k
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*
If anyone were to enter Hangar Five in the Star Killer Base, they’d be met with an unusual sight—a high ranking general repairing the TIE Silencer belonging to the Commander of the First Order.
You hum to yourself as sparks fly in front of your face, bobbing your head along to the music blasting in your ears while you weld two pieces of metal together. Normally, fixing up ships is not in your job description, but you make some exceptions. Like how you’re usually the one fixing up your Silencer, untrusting of some of the engineers positioned on the base. They’ve screwed up enough stuff in the past, something you’re still trying to prevent by pushing for better training and hiring processes. Unfortunately, your complaints haven’t been properly heard, despite the fact it’d be good for every damn person here. Funds are instead being shoveled towards fruitless expeditions and also the very base you sit in.
So that’s why you’ve taken it upon yourself to repair Ren’s Silencer after he brought it back in shambles. You’ve worked on your own Silencer for years, giving it enough improvements that it’s practically a completely different model than when it started, with upgrades no other ship has seen before. It’s resulted in you getting offered engineering positions more than a few times, usually by people who just want you out of the way as a general. If you’re a measly engineer, that means they could boss you around, make a fool out of you. Too bad for them, you’re perfectly content where you are.
Anyways, since you and Ren have the same model, you figure it’s logical for you to work on his. He can consider himself lucky that you’re so generous with your time, especially after he left the poor ship in such a mess.
Some engineers linger around your workspace, wondering if they should step in, tell you to back off and stop taking their jobs, or try and offer you assistance. You denied when a few had tried helping you before, knowing they’d just get in the way and clutter your area. The only assistant you ever need when you’re working on projects like this is BB-12, the trusty droid knowing exactly what you need and when you need it, and having a damages report ready for you that’s far more detailed than anything you could find on the data pads.
You don’t notice the way the engineers behind you suddenly scatter, far too engrossed in the reconfiguration of a wing plate and the damn good music dancing in your ears. Well, until one of the earbuds is pulled out and a familiar, heavy and mechanical voice is calling your name in a commanding fashion. You straighten, pausing the music and pulling your goggles up onto your head, squinting at the sudden fluorescent light that floods your eyes. You look up and see Kylo towering over you, helmet on so you don’t see his face, but you know he’s looking at you with scrutiny.
You retaliate with a look of irritation. “Do you need something, Commander? I’m kinda-“
He cuts through your words. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Your brows furrow as you look between him and his ship, as if explaining it with your eyes. “Repairs…? I thought that’d be obvious-“
“You are aware this is my ship, correct?” He demands. You see the way his fists are clenched. Always so uptight.
“Yes, Commander, I’m not blind. Your Silencer needed repairs so I’m repairing it.” You snap back. You huff and try to return to your work, but his gloved hand grabs your wrist, stopping you mid motion. Your eyes fly to the visor in that stupid helmet, glaring fiercely.
His grip is annoyingly harsh, fingers digging into the skin of your arm. “And why are you the one doing that? We have actual engineers for a reason.”
You shake him off, coming dangerously close to baring your teeth. “Unfortunately, many of the engineers here are ill-equipped to handle the intricacies of a model like this one. And maybe if someone was more careful with his things, it wouldn’t need such extensive repairs done by an expert.” You hiss. BB-12 hands you one of your tools when you hold your hand out. “Surely you see how this is a good thing for you, I’m doing you a damn favor. You know my Silencer is one of the more impressive things in this place, and that’s all because of the work I did on it. What, do you think I’m going to make your ship explode or something?”
His response is instant. “Yes.”
You scoff, shaking your head. “You’re fucking unbelievable. If anything, it’d explode because of some bumbling engineer treating your Silencer as a first-day experiment and accidentally wiring the gun system to the fucking wing controls.” You say, snapping your goggles back over your eyes. “Now can I continue working or do you actually want that to happen?”
You see his jaw shift, undoubtedly from him gritting his teeth together, and you hear the creak of his leather gloves. He’s pissed and you have to struggle to hold back your smirk of joy. Then he’s suddenly leaning in, cold metal of his mask just an inch too close for comfort. “Go ahead, general, but know that if I discover you’ve messed up my Silencer in any way, I’ll have you thrown out into the snow to freeze.” His voice is like a growl through that modifier within the helmet, crackling with his anger.
You don’t react, face entirely neutral. Most would cower in fear at the big-bad Commander snapping at them like this but he’s done it enough times to you that you can’t bring yourself to care even the slightest bit. “Heard loud and clear, sir.” You respond, and he backs off. You hold each other’s glares for a second longer before he turns on his heel and storms off in a flurry of black robes.
You shake your head, finally able to focus back on the task at hand. “The nerve of some guys, right, BB?” You say to your companion sitting dutifully at your side. He chirps in agreement. You then chuckle to yourself as you think of something. “Maybe I should request to get paid more for this in my next check. I could always go for another couple hundred credits, don’t you think?” He beeps again, rolling back and forth in his own way of agreement.
You sigh. “Ah, probably best not to. If anything, Ren would just dock my pay for even suggesting it.” You shake your head again before finally putting your earbuds back in, making sure your gloves are tight over your hands, and getting back to work.
» ☆ «
It’s about a week after that incident when Kylo has to at last pilot his Silencer again. There was a group of rouges spotted towards the edge of the base, encroaching on First Order territory, so he’s decided he’ll take a group out himself to handle it.
His black and red Silencer sits waiting in the hangar, repaired to perfect condition, looking brand new. There’s a part of him that’s hesitant about getting inside, that still doubts the general didn’t do something to it that would result in a system failure and his death. He wouldn’t put it past her, even despite them somehow getting back onto “agreeable” terms.
He swings himself into the cockpit. After all, how would it make him look if he was scared of his own damn ship? He settles into the pilot seat, which had to be refitted for a new cover after the old one got slashed through. Everything feels the same, nothing’s flashing, and he doesn’t smell any smoke as the Silencer roars to life. Seems good enough. He takes hold of the controls, easing out of the hangar with a small squadron of other TIEs following suit.
As he blasts into the sky, maneuvering around obstacles and firing on his opponents, he finds that somehow the Silencer glides smoother, fires faster. He didn’t even know that was possible. The twists and turns and flips feel truly effortless, the canons firing at a better capacity and with more ferocity.
His jaw tightens beneath his helmet. Oh, he fucking hates when she’s right.
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areyoufuckingcrazy · 1 month ago
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“Ash and Amber”
Boba Fett x Reader (Platonic/Maternal relationship)
The holofeed cuts out halfway through the battle broadcast. You’re halfway through cleaning your blaster when it happens — the static screen fizzles, then switches to garbled military comms you shouldn’t have access to. But you’re good at your job, and Jango was better. He taught you where to listen.
You hear his name first. Then the word deceased.
You don’t feel the blaster slip from your hand, but you hear it clatter to the floor.
“…Copy that. Mand’alor is down. Repeat, Jango Fett is confirmed KIA.”
You haven’t spoken to him in months. Years, really — bounty work had scattered you across half the galaxy. He was stubborn, proud, sharp as a vibroblade. But no amount of precision ever saves anyone in the end.
You don’t mourn Jango Fett. You move.
Because there’s one thing you do care about.
His son.
Boba.
Geonosis is a wasteland of dust, wreckage, and clone bodies. You land your ship a few clicks outside the Republic perimeter — their focus is on the Separatists, not scavengers in the shadows. You know the clone army is based on Jango. You know this mess runs deeper than it should.
But you’re not here for politics. You’re here for him.
The Slave I sits cold and silent in the shade of a crumbling mesa. You find it by memory — Jango used to keep her close whenever he was grounded.
And there he is.
Boba.
A twelve-year-old boy trying to act like he isn’t terrified.
You don’t say his name. Not yet. You don’t want to spook him. You see the helmet first — Jango’s helmet — clutched in his shaking hands, a smear of dust and something darker across his cheek.
He looks up as you step into the light.
You brace for a blaster.
Instead, he just stares.
“…You came,” he says, voice cracking on the last word. He doesn’t look like he’s cried, but he sounds like it.
You nod. “I did.”
“You knew.”
“I always know,” you say gently. “You okay, kid?”
His jaw clenches. You recognize the pride. The anger. The barely buried grief.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” you say, stepping closer. “But you will be.”
You don’t say the words I’m sorry.
You never do. Not in this line of work. You don’t have that luxury.
But you give Boba your ship. You tell him to come with you. He doesn’t ask where you’re going. He just nods and follows you up the ramp.
He hasn’t let go of the helmet.
He sleeps curled up in your co-pilot’s seat that night, still wearing Jango’s flight vest, far too big for him. You adjust the heating manually, tuck a blanket around him like he won’t notice. He pretends he doesn’t.
You’re halfway through a stiff drink when he speaks again.
“Did you know him well?”
You pause. The stars outside streak as you hit hyperspace.
“Yeah,” you say finally. “We worked together. Long time ago.”
“Was he…good?”
You look at him. At the helmet on the floor. At the kid trying to fill boots no one ever could.
“He was good at what he did. He did what he thought was right.”
“And what about you?”
“…I’m trying to do what I think is right,” you say softly. “Starting with you.”
Over the next few weeks, you notice things.
He doesn’t cry. But he gets quiet. Too quiet.
You train with him, but gently. You teach him how to reassemble your old blaster model, how to lie without blinking, how to pick a lock in under five seconds. He’s sharp. Obsessed with perfection. Like his father.
But when he burns his hand on the engine coolant valve, he bites his lip and says nothing.
You patch him up anyway.
“You don’t gotta be made of stone, kid,” you tell him.
He shrugs. “I’m a clone.”
You slam the medkit shut harder than you mean to.
“You’re not a clone. You’re Boba. That means something.”
He doesn’t speak for a long time. Then:
“…Why’d you come for me?”
“I owed your dad,” you say. “And I don’t leave kids behind.”
“I don’t know who I’m supposed to be now.”
You glance up. His eyes are dark, tired. Jango’s eyes. But there’s a flicker in them that’s his alone.
“You get to decide that,” you say.
“No, I don’t. Everyone expects me to be him.”
You pause, wipe your hands, and toss the rag over your shoulder.
“You don’t owe anyone anything, Boba. Not the other bounty hunters. Not the Republic. Not even Jango.”
His voice is quiet. “But I owe you.”
You blink.
He looks away, embarrassed. “For coming for me. For staying.”
You ruffle his hair, and he huffs, pretending he doesn’t like it. But he doesn’t pull away.
“Tell you what, kid. You just stick with me for a while. We’ll figure out who you are along the way.”
He nods.
“…Can I fly the ship tomorrow?”
You smirk. “If you don’t crash it, sure.”
lower levels of Coruscant-
You know better than to trust anyone in the lower levels.
The lights are too bright, the shadows too deep, and the air stinks like oil and old secrets. Every smile hides a knife, and every hand wants something.
Perfect place for a meetup.
You’ve got one job: collect a datachip from a slicer contact who owes you more favors than he has brain cells. The nightclub’s just neutral ground. Loud, crowded, distracting — ideal for things you don’t want noticed.
You didn’t plan to bring Boba. But he’d shot you that look. The one with his arms crossed and chin tilted up like he thinks he’s already grown.
“I’m not gonna stay on the ship like some—some stray,” he’d grumbled.
And you’d sighed, knowing he’d won before he even finished the sentence.
The club’s called The Sunken Nova, a glitter-slicked pit of neon lights, pounding music, and too many pheromones in the air.
Boba sticks close behind you. He’s trying to act like he belongs here, but his eyes keep darting around — wary, calculating, cataloguing threats.
You’re proud. Silently.
Even if he is barely up to your shoulder.
You’re halfway to the back lounge when the trouble starts.
“Oh stars,” a voice squeals over the music. “Look at him!”
You turn. Three dancers — all legs, glitter, and heavy lashes — converge like nexu on prey. And their prey?
Boba.
He freezes as they descend.
“Look at his little face! Aren’t you just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen?” one coos, pinching his cheek.
Another leans in, grinning. “What are you doing here, handsome? You helping mama on a job?”
The third giggles, tousling his hair. “I didn’t know bounty hunters came this adorable.”
You stifle a laugh as Boba goes absolutely rigid, expression locked somewhere between confused horror and pure outrage.
“Thanks,” you say dryly, sipping your drink. “He’s a rescue.”
Boba glares at you.
“Stop telling people that!” he hisses under his breath, swatting one of the dancers’ hands off his hair.
“What?” you say innocently. “You are.”
“I’m not a stray tooka you pulled out of a drainpipe!”
“No,” you smirk, “you were more of a scruffy little alley mutt. Still had bite.”
The dancers coo again as Boba’s ears go red. You see the exact moment he considers bolting, but his pride won’t let him.
“I’m gonna wait outside,” he mutters.
“You step out that door, someone will try to snatch you thinking you’re a lost civvie,” you call after him. “Stay in my shadow and maybe they won’t.”
He grumbles something deeply offended in Mando’a and crosses his arms, sulking just behind you like a stormcloud with legs.
The dancers eventually flounce off, laughing among themselves. You shoot him a sideways look.
“Awful lot of attention for a fierce little warrior, huh?”
He glares. “You said this was a job.”
“It is,” you say, scanning the crowd. “And the first lesson of Coruscant’s underbelly? Never underestimate the locals. The pretty ones are the most dangerous.”
He raises an eyebrow at you. “So what does that make you?”
You smirk. “Terrifying.”
You find your contact — a rodian slicer named Kleez who smells like expired coolant and lies — tucked in a booth near the back. The deal is quick, dirty, and full of triple-cross energy. You keep one hand near your blaster the entire time, and Boba watches every move like he’s studying a playbook.
Good.
When you’re back outside in the alley, the air hits cooler. Quieter.
You hand Boba a wrapped stick of candied rootfruit from a vendor as you walk back toward the ship. He takes it but doesn’t say thanks.
“You did good,” you say after a while.
He shrugs. “I didn’t do anything.”
“You watched. Learned. Didn’t get snatched by dancers.”
“That was embarrassing.”
You grin. “You’ll miss it when you’re older. No one pinches cheeks once you’re taller than them.”
He bites into the fruit. “…I’m never letting you tell people I’m a rescue again.”
“Too late,” you smirk. “It’s in your file.”
“There’s a file?!”
You laugh all the way back to the ship.
The bounty was supposed to be simple.
Grab-and-bag, mid-level spice dealer, hiding out in the industrial grids of 1312. Word was, the guy owed someone a fortune and skipped planet — but you got a ping he was holed up in an old shipping warehouse, laying low and running skugg spice through drain lines.
No politics. No Jedi. No Republic heat.
Just a name. A face. A paycheck.
And you brought Boba. Because he insisted, and because part of you thought he needed to see what real bounty work looked like — cold, calculated, impersonal. You wanted to remind him not every job ends in blood or legacy.
You should’ve known it wouldn’t go that way.
It starts to go wrong when you reach the warehouse and find the bounty already trussed up like cargo and tossed at your feet — bruised, terrified, and alive.
Then you hear the voice from above, echoing off the catwalks like a hunting song.
“Well, well. Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Your blood freezes before she even drops down.
Aurra Sing.
Tall, gaunt, and dangerous in the way a vibroblade is — clean and fast, but always dirty when it matters. She lands with a predator’s grace, rifle slung over one shoulder, sharp smile already waiting.
Boba steps close to your side the second he sees her.
Smart kid.
Then your eyes shift behind her.
And your heart sinks.
The Slave I.
Jango’s ship. No mistake.
Cleaned up, rearmored, hers now — but you’d know that silhouette anywhere. So would Boba. His shoulders go rigid.
You put a hand on his shoulder. Quiet. Steadying.
Aurra notices.
“Ohhh,” she croons, voice twisting into a grin. “Didn’t know you had a kid, [Y/N]. Oh wait—” her eyes flicker, sharp as sabacc cards— “Is that who I think it is?”
“Step away,” you say evenly.
She ignores you and steps forward, crouching slightly to meet Boba’s eyes.
“You’ve got your father’s eyes,” she murmurs. “And his jaw. You remember me, don’t you, sweetheart?”
Boba stares, silent.
“I knew your dad,” she says gently. “Ran jobs with him. He was the best.”
“No,” Boba says coldly. “I was the best.”
She laughs — low and knowing.
“Well, that explains the attitude.”
You step between them before it gets worse.
“What do you want, Aurra?”
She lifts a brow. “Oh, don’t be like that. Thought we were all friends here.”
“We were never friends.”
She smirks. “Suit yourself. Just figured I’d say hi. After all—” her voice turns softer again, eyes flicking to Boba— “I’ve got his old ship. Seems like it should’ve gone to the boy, don’t you think?”
You see Boba’s throat tighten.
“That was my dad’s.”
Aurra nods. “It was. I just… found it first. Took care of her. Kept her warm. Just like I’d do for you, if you came with me.”
You stiffen. “He’s not going anywhere with you.”
Aurra doesn’t look at you. She looks at Boba.
“You want justice, don’t you?” she asks quietly. “Revenge? You know who killed your father. I can help you find him.”
“Stop.” Your voice is low, dangerous.
But Boba doesn’t move.
His hands curl into fists at his sides.
“You help me,” Boba says, “and I get to face the Jedi who did it?”
Aurra’s smile sharpens. “Exactly.”
You step forward, furious now. “Boba. No. If you go down that path—”
“I know what path it is.”
“No, you don’t,” you growl. “You think you do. You think pain makes you a man. That revenge will make you stronger. But it won’t. It eats you.”
He looks at you, face hard, eyes like a storm.
“I don’t care.”
You feel the words like a punch to the gut.
He turns to Aurra.
“When do we leave?”
You reach out and catch his arm — not to stop him. Just… to touch him. One last time.
“You don’t have to be your father.”
He doesn’t meet your eyes.
“I know.”
And then he steps away.
Aurra nods once, pleased, and gestures to the ship.
“Welcome aboard, kid.”
The ramp lowers.
He doesn’t look back.
You stand in the darkened street, staring as Slave I rises into the smog-choked sky, carrying the boy you pulled from the ruins of Geonosis — the boy who let someone else promise him what you never could.
Not safety. Not peace.
Just revenge.
Cade Detention Center smells like steel and regret.
You don’t come to the Core often these days, not since the war made everyone paranoid and every ship gets scanned three times before docking. But this visit isn’t business. It’s not a job.
It’s personal.
A long time ago, you told yourself you’d never set foot in a Republic prison again.
Then a name popped up on a bounty board you monitor out of habit. Not a contract—just a list of recent arrests.
Boba Fett.
And your heart stopped.
The guard droid escorts you through a sterile hallway. Everyone’s treated like a threat here.
You are.
But not to him.
He looks older.
Not by much — maybe a year, maybe two — but enough that his face has lost that soft baby roundness. His jaw is sharper. His eyes duller.
And he doesn’t look surprised to see you.
He just sits behind the glass, expression unreadable.
You sit down across from him. Pick up the comm on your side. So does he.
You don’t speak right away.
He doesn’t either.
Finally, you say, “Heard you finally found Mace Windu.”
That gets a reaction.
His jaw tenses, just barely.
You lean back. “Tried to kill him. Or did you forget?”
“I didn’t forget,” he mutters.
“I warned you. I told you there’s no coming back from revenge.”
He glares. “You don’t know anything.”
“I know you’re in prison.”
He doesn’t flinch.
You watch him carefully.
“When you thought you killed him,” you say softly, “when you saw that explosion and thought you’d finally avenged your father… did you feel better?”
His eyes snap up to yours. Angry. Hurt. Young.
So young.
He doesn’t answer.
You lean forward, elbows on the table.
“Did it bring him back, Boba?”
He slams the comm down on the table, hands balled into fists, breathing hard on the other side of the glass.
You don’t look away.
You let him sit in it.
Because the silence is the only thing that gets through to him now.
After a while, he picks the comm back up.
“…I thought it would help.”
“And did it?”
“No.”
The word barely escapes his mouth.
You nod once. “That’s what I came to hear.”
He looks away, ashamed. “Aurra left me.”
“Of course she did,” you say, voice gentler now. “She doesn’t care about you. She never did. You were a weapon. Now you’re spent.”
There’s silence between you.
Then he says, quiet:
“I hate her.”
“I know.”
“…I hate me more.”
Your chest tightens. The words sting like blasterfire. You grip the comm tighter than you mean to.
“Don’t.”
“I let him die. I wasn’t strong enough to finish it. I couldn’t even do that right.”
You shake your head slowly. “No. You didn’t fail. You survived. You chose to stop.”
“I didn’t choose anything,” he snaps. “The Jedi stopped me.”
“But you didn’t try again after,” you say. “You could’ve. But you didn’t. That matters.”
He doesn’t say anything.
You glance at the door behind you. The guard’s watching, but not close. You have a few more minutes.
So you speak quietly.
“You were a good kid, Boba. And you still can be. You made a mistake. One Jango made, too. One a lot of us make.”
You press your fingers to the glass. Not asking him to match it.
But he does anyway.
His hand is smaller than yours. Still growing.
Still changing.
“You’ve got time,” you say. “If you want it.”
His voice cracks when he speaks again.
“Would you still take me in?”
You don’t hesitate.
“I never let you go.”
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mychemfessions · 12 days ago
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My chem confessions what is YOUR mcr hot take the ppl need to know
Idk how hot these are but here we go
- I do not care for rpf. I don’t have a specific reason for it, it just doesn’t do anything to my mind compared to fictional characters, which is why I see the albums through the lense of fiction and through fictional characters rather than the members themselves
- branching off that it also really annoys me when people refer to what are meant to be characters as the members names. Ik it’s because a lot of people just might not know specific characters may have names but it still irks me and I force myself to do it when engaging in most content (unless I’m among people who know) in this fandom. I do not want to call the leader of the black parade “Gerard” because canonically his name is death, but I fear I must because most people don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about otherwise.
- I don’t think Frerard or any “ship” that people have with the members really happened behind the scenes. I don’t think there were genuine romantic relationships there IF I were to speculate, but I don’t usually do that.
EDIT: forgot to mention that I don’t care if people write about or speculate on MCR ships though. Play with your touys I’ll be over here. Watching I guess.
- another nitpick because I’m a nerd but it’s also really annoying when people use the fact that Helena is BASED ON Gerard’s feelings around losing his grandmother to police how others perceive the woman in the music video and how people refer to the demolition woman. No, the woman in the music video is not meant to represent the way brothers grandmother, she’s just some woman. They’re not the same. Helena at the end of the day still exists in the context of three cheers even if it has an underlying personal meaning to the way brothers.
- you guys overlook Ray a lot and it makes me really angry lmao. God forbid the Latino community gets anything but “I want to suck his tits” and “Princess fro fro” from this god forsaken fandom.
- you guys also ignore the Girl a lot too. She’s literally the main character of an entire comic, and I understand that a lot of you haven’t read it, but still. She’s just as— if not more— important as the other killjoys.
- I do not care for Illi McMillin. I’ve tried, I just can’t. I can’t care about them.
- bullets is their best album sound wise but concept wise the black parade takes the cake, even before long live. I feel as though it’s much more thought out with its symbolism and story than the other albums.
- I want people who don’t understand the music industry to stop saying stuff about the music industry. Especially after the whole Ticketmaster fiasco and the process for the band to break up. Most of yall are kids so I assume that you don’t get it but in this current climate, tickets start out expensive (and fluctuate based on demand) to battle off scalpers, but since Ticketmaster sucks they send in bots to artificially inflate the prices. They eventually go down as time passes and the show comes closer. It happens with every band. It is on the faults of mostly Ticketmaster and resellers and I think the people who were entirely blaming the band were just being dramatic lmao. Be patient. Don’t impulse buy shit and you won’t lose that much money.
- MCR is emo and the debate around it is annoying. MCR isn’t pop-punk entirely, I fear their only true pop-punk albums is danger days.
- I don’t think that any of the albums are connected, unless it’s MAYBE bullets and three cheers because I’ve seen enough evidence in favor of it. Let’s please not MCU these albums.
- while I do love my MCR mutuals on TikTok I cannot stand the community there.
- you guys complain about fan content too much.
- while some of the songs off the deluxe version of three cheers sounded good, further listening has soured it to me. It sounds too clean and if MCR does come out with more music I don’t want it to be mixed the same way. I want it to be mixed like foundations of decay. That was perfect.
That’s all I can think of lolz
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starrylothcat · 2 years ago
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Hey so I love your writing and I hope this is okay <3
Can you write a Hunter x f reader where the reader is thinking dirty thoughts whilst they're all on a mission or otherwise engaged on the Marauder and uses that to tease Hunter since he can sense it (smell, heartbeat etc) but can't act on it with others around? And he's getting more frustrated bc he knows you're doing it on purpose to tease him.
Love your work! <3
Tease
Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader
Summary: Basically the ask. You tease Hunter on your way back to Kamino with dirty thoughts. 😉
WC: ~2500
Warnings: NSFW, 18+. PiV sex, established relationship, some female masturbation. Feral Hunter. All the good stuff.
A/N: I’ve been traveling around Japan the last week, so that’s why I’ve been a littl MIA. I had this in my drafts before the trip and finally had some downtime to finish it! Feral Hunter and his senses is such a delicious meal, thank you anon for the request. I hope you like it and thanks for reading and your kind words! 💕
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It has been a brutal couple of weeks, back-to-back missions without respite. You never thought you’d miss Kamino, but as you lay on your bunk on The Marauder, exhausted and mentally taxed, the sterile white hallways and pounding rain sounded like paradise.
It didn’t help that you and Hunter haven’t had a chance to be alone, either. You both understood the war came first, along with your duties, but you couldn’t deny you missed feeling his body on yours, his touch, his intense passion. You knew he longed for you, too.
Once you were back on Kamino, you would have that time, as you were promised a few days’ leave before being shipped off again. The buildup was driving you both crazy, but patience was a virtue.
Too bad you weren’t that patient of a person, though.
You knew your scent drove Hunter wild. You tried your best to not accidentally tease him as best you could, especially when you were trapped on The Marauder for long periods.
Your body often betrayed you, though.
Hunter easily picked up on your longing, your arousal, your absolute bone-deep need for him. It was especially bad now since you haven’t partaken in carnal pleasures with one another in a few weeks. Your body was calling out to him, begging for him to take you for hours on end, pleasuring you beyond belief, taking you as his and only his.
You decided to tease him, only a little, to enhance the buildup for when you could finally be alone. You knew an animal lay within him, something he kept back even in your most intensely passionate moments. You wanted him to finally let it all out, not hold back.
You could take it, and you wanted it more than anything.
You set up in your bunk, powering on your datapad. You pretended to be invested in whatever was on the screen but instead watched as Hunter carefully took apart his blaster, inspecting each piece for wear or weakened points. He did it religiously after every mission.
Hunter’s fingers were dextrous, careful. Your mind wandered, knowing it wouldn't be long until he noticed. You thought of those thick, calloused fingers running down the sides of your body, mapping every curve, trailing down to where you needed them most.
You shifted your legs, squeezing them together for a little friction. You could feel your arousal growing, your eyes on Hunter. You imagined those fingers tracing over your panties, rubbing your folds, hearing his husky praises in your ear as you dampened for him. Finally, he would slip a finger under, gathering the slick and teasing your entrance, biting at your neck as you whined in pleasure.
Hunter’s eyes snapped to yours, knowing he must have picked up on your scent. You smiled coyly, still pretending to look at your datapad. Your fantasy continued, his thick digit now fully in your sopping cunt, his name leaving your lips as he pumped in and out of you, his other hand playing with your breasts.
You saw Hunter fidget, his nostrils flaring. He shot you a dangerous look, almost pleading.
Hunter couldn’t wait to get his hands on you, take you apart, and piece you together again, but what you were doing now just wasn’t fair.
You still had at least an entire day before landing on Kamino. If you kept this up, he might not make it that long.
You smirked a little, feeling how your panties moistened at the thought. You left it at that, going back to your datapad.
Hunter was relieved when Tech asked him to help make upgrades on the navigation system, hoping it would distract him, though your scent filled the ship to an almost dizzying degree.
A few hours passed, and you decided Hunter needed another reminder of how much you wanted him.
You stepped into the refresher, needing a shower anyway. While the water sprayed down on you, you let your fingers wander, sliding down your stomach, imagining Hunter’s touch, slipping fingers between your folds.
You rubbed yourself, biting your lip, stopping yourself from making any noise. You wanted nothing more than Hunter to be in there with you, plunging his cock so deep inside your pussy that you wouldn’t be able to walk for a week.
Once you worked yourself up, you stopped. You didn’t want to come, not yet. You wanted Hunter to have the satisfaction of doing so. It only added to the anticipation. You were careful not to wipe any of your slick off your fingers as you dried yourself off and dressed.
When you emerged from the refresher, Hunter was engrossed in sharpening his knife. You sauntered up to him, placing your hand on his shoulder, the same hand that was playing with your pussy just minutes before.
“Hunter, could you help me find my communicator? I lost it somewhere on the ship.” Hunter bristled, his body going stiff.
You glanced behind you, making sure no one was watching. Wrecker, Tech, Echo, and Crosshair were focusing on other tasks, not paying attention to either of you at the moment.
You traced your finger down his jawline, rough with stubble. A pleasant jolt shot down your spine, wanting to feel it on your inner thighs as he buried his face in your pussy.
You passed your thumb over his lips, knowing you were asking for it.
“Mesh’la…” Hunter’s voice was hoarse, barely audible.
He shuddered, his tongue quickly flicking out to your thumb, tasting you.
He let out a low, agonized groan, gripping his knife so tightly that you thought he might snap the handle. Hunter’s pupils widened, something carnal and animalistic making itself known in his darkening expression. He looked almost dangerous, his eyes flashing with an absolute feral desire.
Hunter’s hand was around your wrist so quickly, you didn’t even see him move. His knife dropped to the floor, his hand circling your wrist, holding tight.
“Don’t…” he rasped, quickly glancing back, his brothers not bothered by the sound of his knife clattering to the ship’s floor. “Unless you want me to fuck you right here. Right now.”
You sucked in a breath at the intensity radiating off him.
Your knees buckled, and you knew Hunter could hear your pounding heart.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you, filthy girl?” His usual smoky baritone was somehow deeper, infused with a ravenousness that sent molten desire to your core.
His eyes bore into you, his tattoo seemingly darker in the shadows of the ship. “You’re going to pay for this later.”
You licked your dry lips, knowing he’d keep his promise.
It took all his strength to release your wrist and not fuck you on the floor like an animal in front of his brothers.
You reluctantly pulled away from him, seeing how his body trembled, his neck muscles bulging, trying to dampen the raging fire that threatened to consume him. You couldn’t help the coquettish grin on your face, seeing the effect you had on him.
“Oh, I know.”
✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩
The second you were excused from the mission debrief back on Kamino, you headed back to your quarters.
As your door whooshed shut behind you, Hunter’s lips vehemently consumed yours, his hands tearing your clothing off your body.
Literally.
You couldn’t finish the thought of how he even got to your room first, since you left the mission debrief at the same time.
You didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Soon enough, Hunter had you bent over your couch armrest, fucking you with such ferocious intensity you thought you might tear apart at the seams.
Your face was buried into the fabric of the couch, his hands a vice on your plush hips, driving himself into you without pause.
“Fuck…mesh’la…” Hunter all but growled as he leaned forward, pressing his broad, sweaty chest to your back.
“So good like this…taking me so well…this is what you wanted, hm?” He changed the angle, your hands desperately grasping at the fabric of your couch, tears pricking at the sides of your eyes. Your wanton moans garbled with sobs as he hit that devastating spot deep inside you.
Every atom in your body was thrumming with white-hot ecstasy, completely consumed by everything that was Hunter.
“Tell me…” He panted in your ear, “You need me, you need this cock.”
“Hunter…” you managed to string one coherent thought together, the ecstatic pressure building in your lower abdomen, the slick from your arousal dripping down your thighs.
“Want to hear you say it, sweetheart.”
You could hear the smugness in his voice, his hands holding you tight.
“Hunter, I need you! I need your cock. Please…want to cum so bad!” You were so close to exploding, but missing that final push only he could give you. “Been thinking about it for weeks, I need you so badly…please…”
Hunter let out a satisfied grunt, giving your ass a hearty squeeze as he leaned back slightly.
“I know, mesh’la. I could smell you every single day. Drove me crazy. Was close so many times bending you over and fucking you in front of my brothers…show them how lucky I am to have this beautiful pussy all to myself…”
You mewled at the thought, knowing the power you had over him, trying to press back in time with his powerful thrusts.
He grabbed a fistful of your ass a second time, leaning down again. Hunter’s breath was hot on your neck, latching on to your skin, biting down to mark you. Tears ran down your cheeks onto the couch cushion, gasping between your heady moans at the mix of pain and pleasure.
Hunter’s pace didn’t falter one bit as he gave you what you wanted, what you consciously and subconsciously begged him for on the ship.
His sounds were becoming louder, more ragged and breathless, knowing he was close to his end.
Finally, finally, Hunter pressed a digit to your swollen clit, rubbing circles as he pounded into you.
Even with his training, his endurance, and other super soldier qualities, he could only control himself for so long with you.
You just knew your smell was entrancing him, overtaking all his senses, driving him mad with lust.
All the pent-up stress, need, and longing were unraveling between the two of you, every thrust bringing you both closer to an explosive release you both so desperately needed.
His thick cock drilled you, filling you to the brim, reeling as his cock seemed to find a deeper spot every time he dragged against your walls. His finger moved in faster and tighter circles over your swollen bud, giving you just the right amount of pressure you thought you may disintegrate into the couch.
You were so close…so close…
Right as you were about to come, Hunter pulled out of you. You let out a desperate cry, cut short by Hunter easily picking you up, maneuvering himself to sit on the couch, pulling you down into his lap.
“Want to see your face and taste these gorgeous tits.”
Hunter had a wild look in his eyes, his curly locks falling from his headband, chest heaving and lips parted in short pants. You’ve never heard his voice so hoarse and husky with hunger.
You lowered yourself on his length, immediately starting the same desperate pace as his hot mouth encapsulated your pebbled nipples. You threw your head back in bliss, letting out moans that rivaled any dirty Holonet actress.
He sucked hard, relishing how your nipples felt in his mouth, his teeth tugging at your sensitive flesh.
Hunter wasn’t being gentle, and you didn’t mind. The slight pain of him nipping at your hardened nubs was washed over with pleasure as his tongue soothed his harsh sucks, his rough hands running up and down your back.
Hunter matched your pace, immediately back on the precipice of pleasure, his hips pistoning up to meet yours.
“Hunter I’m going to-I’m so close…!” You tangled your hands in his hair, your thighs burning with exertion, his hard cock rubbing your aching clit just the right way for you to come undone in his lap.
“Cum for me, mesh’la”.
You came hard, all the muscles in your body tightening as you tugged on his hair, crying out his name, your vision whiting out and everything falling away around you.
Hunter followed.
The hypnotic sounds of you unraveling, your tits in his mouth, your soft and succulent skin under his palms, and the enticing sensation of you pulling on his hair, brought his system to an overload.
Hunter let out a long moan into the crook of your neck, pressing as deep as he could inside you, feeling his warm spurts fill your cunt.
You sighed as you collapsed into him, feeling his body tense and writhe with yours as he rode out his release.
You gently stroked his head, taking a moment to come down from your highs and catch your heaving breaths.
You leaned your head to him, and Hunter opened his eyes, the feral flint gone, replaced with a soft gaze that fell when he saw the mark on your neck.
Hunter gently traced a hand over the reddening bruise, where he bit you before.
“I hurt you. I lost control, sorry-“
You shook your head. “It’s okay, it felt good.” Hunter’s lips twitched in a small smile, but you could tell he felt bad.
“I guess you’ll just have to kiss it better.”
You touched your lips to him in a chaste kiss, his hand cradling the back of your head to deepen it.
Hunter slid his tongue over your lips, and you opened to greet his tongue with yours.
You sighed, relishing the slow dance of your mouths, his softening cock still inside you.
You dragged away for a breath, and Hunter enveloped his arms around you, strong and secure.
“Wasn’t fair you know, back on the ship.” Hunter murmured, gently kissing the hickey he left on your skin.
You hummed in reply. “I know.”
He chuckled lightly, kissing up your neck to your jaw.
“I’m not done with you yet.” You felt his hands squeeze your hips, rutting up into you again. His cock was hardening, slowly fucking up into you.
You moaned, still sensitive from your orgasm, rocking your hips in time with his.
“Move to the bed?” You whispered against his lips, caressing his face with your hands. Hunter’s cock was fully hard now, slowly riding him and capturing one another’s sighs as you kissed.
Hunter smirked against you, his hand sliding over your ass.
“We’ll get there. Eventually.”
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