#that is. Nerve wracking. but it's about time i post my ocs here even if it's absolutely terrifying | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yandere-sins · 5 months ago

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The Orcas’ Tale - After End

[My Commission Info] | [My Ao3] | [Ko-Fi]

a/n: Another lovely commission for a sweet anon ♥ Thank you for commissioning me to write about my sweet fishy boy again!! :') It was a lot of fun!!! ♥

Characters: Nerrocan (OC) x AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Non-Con, Rubbing, Penetration with too big penis, Reader's first time, Breeding Kink, Cuminflation, Creampie), Violence (Biting, Blood mention, Scratching, Mentioning of wounds), Mentioning of Testing on the Mermaids, Obsessiveness, Overpowering, Monster, Monster Features, Dual POV, Long Post Words: 8157

You should have been used to emerging from water by now, yet, you still gasped for air the moment you breached the surface.

The pool water parted to reveal the indoor basin of the new cave constructed in Nerrocan's habitat. For a moment, you were almost taken aback by the deja vu as it reminded you of the original cave you had been relocated to by the three orcas way back at the beginning of your journey. But the longer you looked around, the more the illusion vanished. It was familiar, but not the same.

Strong arms wrapped around you from beneath the blue. Arms that should have induced a fight or flight instinct inside you, but the feeling had long turned into acceptance. After so many days spent together, there was almost nowhere Nerrocan hadn't touched you, and considering he swam across the ocean with you, there had been much more closeness between you two than just this simple touch.

"How do you like it?" he whispered expectantly into your ear as he emerged after you. By now, he usually let you swim alone if you two had some time together aside from the experiments. Nerrocan found watching you use all your limbs to get through the water amusing, and you wanted to go easy on him, especially whenever he had gone through something painful or gotten wounded.

Somehow, this only made this situation more nerve-wracking for you.

"It's familiar… and yet, not at all," you replied vaguely, assuming he knew what you meant. Nerrocan hummed softly in agreement, and you swam to the edge of the water, putting your hands on solid ground. By then, all the memories shattered as you felt the unnatural material beneath your fingertips, a stark contrast to the stone cave Nerrocan had lived in before with his cousins. The material this cave was made of was nothing like that. It was just an imitation—a fake. Because that's all it was.

"I wanted it to resemble your old home. I was hoping you'd feel more relaxed in a familiar environment."

Lifting yourself out of the water, you were given a small push as Nerrocan used his tail to help you up. It didn't make for the most graceful landing, but you were thankful regardless for the assist. Now standing in the cave, you inspected the dimensions, glad the facility hadn't saved on making it big enough for a species like Nerrocan. This way, he could move around comfortably, although you observed him pacing around the pool even after receiving a proper retreat. Staying indoors must have made him restless regardless of how much effort you put into making him comfortable. It still hurt in your heart that he let himself get captured just for the sake of bringing you back to your people.

You heard Nerrocan come out of the water behind you as you checked out the cave, walking the perimeter around the exit. Very quickly, you found where he stored food and, strangely enough, stones. Even though you didn't question him why he'd pick out stones from the bottom of the pool, you made a mental note to ask other researchers if this was perhaps a sign of boredom and if you had to get him something to busy himself with. It wasn't always the best idea to ask Nerrocan directly, as he usually resorted to saying he was fine as long as you were around. No matter how close you two lived, you couldn't always be there. So, instead, you would have to ask around later what others thought. It was just how things were done here in the facility.

Another thing you noticed was the lack of decorations. You remembered the cave of the orcas had trophies and skins hanging on the walls. Nerrocan wasn't allowed to make or wield weapons anymore, obviously. Still, since he couldn't hunt, there was no way for him to actually decorate. Maybe that's what the stones are for, you thought quietly, furrowing your brows.

"Something displeases you?" he suddenly asked, and you had almost forgotten that he was still around, observing you like he did most days.

"Oh! Oh, no! It's fine!" you replied quickly, moving on from the barren walls. Although, you wondered if Nerrocan would appreciate art. But how would you get a painting down here without the water ruining it?

Next up, you found an obviously assigned sleeping space, and you sighed a sigh of relief, seeing that, at least here, the makers of the caves had taken note of what you told them. It was a more private corner in the whole cave, even slightly covered by an extra wall so Nerrocan had at least a tiny bit of privacy from the cameras that you saw blinking around the wall encircling this space. It would probably be your job to analyze the materials and repair them if they broke, which would be a hassle. But not anyone could just jump into Nerrocan's pool and especially enter his cave. That privilege went to only one person: you.

"Do you get some good sleep here? Looks comfy!" you asked, pointing at the fur-bedding. It wasn't as smooth as seal fur but thicker, slightly elevated from the ground, reminding you of a futon. Perhaps Nerrocan could like this new added comfort. You definitely were glad about lying down on a mattress again rather than fur on the ground.

"It's fine," he answered, a familiar response. You almost jumped a bit hearing him right behind you, looking back to find him having closed the distance to you while you were thinking about his bed. His eyes dragged away from the fur, Nerrocan's expression unreadable. Still, somehow, it gave you the feeling he didn't like the bed as much, considering it was just "fine". He might not have been an orca of many words, but you did feel he'd expressed himself differently had he actually liked it. It was time to change tactics!

"Do you prefer seal fur for–"

"You can sit down if you–"

Both of you looked at each other, stopping halfway through your sentences. It was rare that you two spoke up at the same time, but even Nerrocan's lips curled into a smile as you chuckled about it. However, he had no idea what that invitation elicited inside you, a knot forming in your stomach as you stood there, nervously thinking about your options.

You two were a team; it wasn't right to distrust him. He had done a lot for you, and you weren't ungrateful for all his efforts, but you've noticed Nerrocan pushing. Pushing for something that you simply couldn't wrap your head around doing.

The staff and the professor had told you extensively about your role and how to conduct yourself. They weren't shy and didn't make any of it sound goofy or pitiful as they explained the terms and what to do. Somehow, you were able to avoid it all this time up until now. Yet, the thought came back to you with the same fear and reluctance as when you first listened to them explain what it meant to mate.

Essential, they had called it. The most important factor to the whole facility. Mermaids that didn't bond and mate with their caretakers were usually dead within months as they slowly withered away without a reason to live. Nerrocan had to have a mate, or he would probably die too. Despite your best care, the stones possibly were the first indication of his mental health declining. It was for the best of the test subjects, but you… you couldn't do it.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded, giving him a fake smile before replying, "S-Sure!" as confidently as you could. Carefully, you took a seat at the edge of his "bed", feeling the soft material below you give in beneath your body, yet cushioning you all the same. It didn't feel bad at all, but when you brushed your hand through the fur, you noticed how different it was from the softer seal Nerrocan was used to.

"You know, it's no trouble to change this if you'd prefer a softer material to sleep on. How about we add some pillows? Do you know what a pillow is? You place your head on it. It's pretty nice!"

Perhaps you were rambling a little as you drew in your knees, hugging them tight to your chest like a defense barrier. You had to accept his invitation if you wanted information that would ultimately help him. Knowing what he was sleeping on right now would later benefit your case if you needed to ask for other things for him. Even if you didn't like how exposed you felt like this, it was your job to take care of him and make sure he was doing fine, even if he wasn't the best to communicate his feelings and thoughts to you. He had no one besides you to rely on, so you couldn't let him down even if you were uncomfortable.

Nerrocan had crawled closer once you took your seat, waiting for something it felt like as his muscles kept tensing and relaxing visibly. But there was a small sparkle in his eyes that you couldn't quite pinpoint. Maybe excitement? He seemed happier when you two talked about whatever came to mind, so perhaps he enjoyed the conversation despite your rambling. If you could make him happy just a little bit, that would be good. It would keep him healthy in the long run despite the awful things he had to endure. Tightening your arms around your legs, you tried not to think about it and instead focus on him.

"It's fine. Perfect, now, actually."

There it was. Nerrocan, sly as he was, knew how to intensify words if he wanted. He had no problems with telling you if he liked something, if he actually meant it. And he did, now, after you sat down… in his sleeping spot… oh no.

Nerrocan let out a soft chirp as he leaned down more, almost bending over you and trapping you in his resting area with his big body. You couldn't outswim him, but a moment of surprise could be the only reason you left his cave alive. No matter how well-disposed he was towards you, you could never let your guard down around a predator like him.

"Well! Great! I see you've been settling in nicely!"

You laughed nervously as you jumped up with too much vigor, almost banging your head with his, but Nerrocan reared back just in time. He was just like an animal in such moments, immediately alert and reactive. And you were just a human, you… you couldn't be his mate. You couldn't stay here and pretend that wasn't what everyone—including Nerrocan—seemed to want from you. Hell, how would that even work?! He was so big and you were average at best! You two were so different, there was no way he would even fit—

"I-I should go!" you announced, suddenly overrun by your emotions. Somehow, you had managed to spiral yourself back into a state of panic, your heart racing while your head filled with unnecessary ideas. Imagining yourself with Nerrocan… that was simply too much for you.

"Wait!" Nerrocan called out as you stormed to a smaller part of his body so you could step over him and get to the pool. You didn't need to look back to know he was following you, the cave slightly creaking as he turned over to go after you. You had freaked yourself out enough that you didn't stop. This wasn't the ocean, and you were good enough of a swimmer to get out of the pool on your own. However, your footsteps grew smaller as you got closer to the water.

Your reaction wasn't fair. Nerrocan had done nothing to you, and yet, you treated him like a pervert just because some scientists wanted you to think about him that way. Mate this or that, but in the first place, he was your savior and fellow sufferer. If anything… he was your friend. He didn't deserve to be treated this way. It was only you who interpreted the things you were afraid of. Nerrocan wasn't at fault.

Taking a deep breath, you turned around, laying your head to the side questioningly, deciding to give it one more go before you chickened out for no apparent reason. "Are you okay?" he asked, shifting slightly from side to side to look you over. Worried, he stared at your body, goosebumps erupting on your skin as your stupid brain imagined him undressing you with his eyes. You told yourself he was just concerned about you, but the icky feeling remained.

"Your heart was beating very fast. Do you need to rest?"

"Ah, you know…" you stumbled, avoiding eye contact with him. Of course, he heard that. Stupid orca senses! "I'll just get back and take a nap. I'm sure it's going to go away again soon!"

You gave him a curt smile, pointing at the water. But before you could turn even to look at the pool, his big hands reached out, faster than you could register, lifting you up from the ground.

"Woah!" you exclaimed as Nerrocan tugged you in against his chest, twisting his huge body over and facing his bed again before scooting closer. Even this touch wasn't unfamiliar, and neither was the feeling of his skin against your palms and face. But your body only decided to freak out more. What was he going to do? Would he demand his right to mate? Did you delude yourself into honestly thinking Nerrocan wanted you like this? Did you really think he'd be okay without a mate?

With your eyes closed tightly, you only felt yourself lifted off the orca and sat down on the soft bedding again. Once more, you had let the intrusive thoughts take over your critical thinking, and when you slowly blinked open your eyes, you looked straight into Nerrocan's, his gaze filled with concern. One hand supported you on your back as if he was afraid you were going to faint at any second now, while he used the other to cup your face, clearly still looking for wounds he had missed. He would have smelled the blood, of course, but it seemed even his rationality could be thrown out of the proverbial window when it came to you.

"Do you need food? Water? Are you in pain?"

His questions were so innocent, his voice breaking with worry, making it hard for him to speak clearly. No matter how well he spoke the human language, his instincts were always at the forefront, and those allowed only the orca way of communication, the soothing rumble in his chest being evidence of this. When you didn't immediately answer him, his expression merely darkened as he chortled, trying to coax what you needed out of you.

"I'm really fine, Nerrocan," you reassure him, much softer than you thought you were able to. Somehow, his concern and efforts to make you comfortable warmed your heart. You were unjust to assume the worst of him, and he had proven to you yet again that he was simply concerned about your well-being. Maybe he was right, and you needed some rest, this situation had already taken its toll on you.

"Good, okay. Your heart is still beating very fast, what can I do?"

"Maybe… let's just talk?"

"Sure." Nerrocan nods thoughtfully, imitating your gesture while seemingly trying to fulfill your request. "What is that thing you talked about like? That… pillow?"

"Oh!" you exclaimed, delighted to hear him remember. It seemed like such a small matter to talk about, but you were happy that he listened and followed up on what you said. "It's soft and slightly elevated! You can tug it beneath your head so your spine rests evenly, although I know you can't lie on your back, but at least turned to your side?"

You took a moment to think about whether Nerrocan could sleep with a pillow in the first place, something you should have considered much earlier before suggesting it, but now, you just had to go with the flow. However, you didn't notice him shift, laying down flat on his stomach before asking, "Like this?" And suddenly, with no small strain on your thighs, his head fell into your lap, arms reaching up and around your body, keeping it in place.

"Y-Yeah," you mumbled, stunned. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that Nerrocan could really understand you and make logical connections. And in moments like this, it was even harder to make yourself believe he didn't do it with some ulterior motives. Not like this was the first time he ever laid his head in your lap, but still, under these circumstances, it made you nervous again.

Inhaling deeply, you reminded yourself to trust and stay calm, slowly letting your hand fall on top of his head and brushing through his hair. Nerrocan's lips trembled before he gave up his composure and smiled, the rumbling in his chest almost like a purr while he made a few satisfied clicking sounds.

"Don't get too comfortable, big guy. I'm just taking a quick rest before going back to work!" you joked with him, running both of your hands through his slick hair. As always, it was untangled despite the length, still as beautifully shimmering and glossy as you were used to it. A good sign, you figured, considering his hair had fallen out yet from the stress and procedures.

Making a sound of disapproval, Nerrocan turned his head forward. His arms tightened around you, and you gave a small, nervous chuckle as you watched him nuzzle his face into and between your thighs. His hold on you got even stronger as you noticed his upper body lifting and staying like this for a moment before sinking, as if he just took a deep breath. Shame ran over you, the wetsuit you wore smelling like water and fish, but who knew what he could smell with his enhanced senses? You washed up this morning, but that was a few hours ago…

While fearing about your body hygiene, you didn't notice the mischievous glint in Nerrocan's eyes as he watched your expression, his body weight shifting more and more on top of you. It wasn't until you felt yourself losing balance, toppling backward, that you started to struggle against the inevitable, big hands catching you before you could hurt yourself. At the same time, Nerrocan took the chance to scoot up higher, hovering above you when your head fell into the cushioned bed.

"I've waited a long time for this," Nerrocan mumbled, a guttural sound as his head dipped into the space between your head and shoulder, slick skin against your wetsuit, the tip of his nose dragging down the side of your throat, smelling you again. "For this place to be set up and for you to visit here. It being just us."

"Ne- Nerrocan!" you protested, bracing your hands against his shoulders. It was foolish to think you could lift him off you. Nerrocan's head dipped lower and lower, driving between your collarbones and your breasts, the feeling of his breath pervading even your clothes and tingling over your skin. His hand slid out from beneath you, and you saw your chance of slipping upwards and away. But the second you moved, his palms closed around your sides, holding them firmly in place and tugging you back down again beneath him.

"Nerrocan, stop!" you said more firmly this time, and he stilled as if snapping out of a trance.

"Why?" he asked, looking up again. This time, his expression seemed hurt, as if you denying him this was causing him physical pain.

"We aren't the same species! We can't do this!"

"We can," he replied without hesitation.

"They told me it was possible. That if I prepared you well, you'd be able to take me. It's okay to mate with a human, they said."

"They? Who told you these things?! How would that even work?! Do you even know what that means?!"

Panic raised your voice, and you watched his expression change briefly. Perhaps the sound disturbed him, or he was questioning what either of you knew, but eventually, he simply replied, "The other humans. Those with the white clothes," and it dawned on you. While you thought you had things under control, the other researchers started feeding Nerrocan a very different narrative. One where all of this was normal. One where he could do as his nature demanded.

And when you didn't react fast enough, nature won over him.

One hand retracted from the side of your body, reaching down between your legs and settling right against your pussy. You squealed as a bolt of surprised arousal drove through your body, Nerrocan rubbing his dangerously clawed finger up and down your slit. Immediately, you shut your legs around his wrist, but it did nothing to stop him. Instead, it made your pussy grind upwards into the touch, and you bit your lip.

"It's- It's not right!" you stammered, reaching for his hand.

"But you smell so good. You came here to mate, claim my cave as yours. That's a sign, right?"

"N-No! I didn't! I never intended to claim this place or you! Stop smelling me!"

"It's tough," Nerrocan admitted, gulping while his finger worked a unique magic on your cunt. He could move his joints much like a wave, teasing your clit at one point and your entrance at the next. Together with the friction of the wetsuit it was a deadly combination. Yet, you didn't want to dwell on it, feeling the treacherous heat spreading through your body. "Every inch of you smells so good, mate."

His head reappeared in front of yours, his massive form crushing as if he was going to swallow whole. Nerrocan's eyes were lidded, dark dots one could get lost in, but as if sniffing wasn't enough, his tongue suddenly slipped out of his mouth, dragging from your jaw to your cheek bone. You'd never taken much note about how long it was until he was licking you, making you feel even more like a delicious snack rather than a respected friend. This was getting out of hand, and you had to do something fast!

"Nerrocan, we can't– Mmpf!"

Not giving you the chance to finish the sentence, Nerrocan slipped his tongue between your open lips, his mouth crashing down on yours while his fingers stopped for a brief moment. He dipped deeply into the kiss, filling you with his tongue and breath, both hot and relentless as they explored every inch of your mouth. Your head was spinning with how much Nerrocan there was and how little of you. But even when you tightened your grip on his shoulders, nails digging into them, he didn't let off, instead picking up the teasing with his finger again, although his movements were rougher now than before. It felt like he was desperate to make you agree with him, however he had to. Perhaps those were his instincts taking over again, forcing him to claim his mate however possible, but it didn't help you at all.

Shrieking into his mouth was all you could do as his other hand furled inwards, claws snagging at your wetsuit and running over your back. The sting revealed the damage to your skin, yet the fabric ripping was what horrified you. Pulling your head back, you tried to escape, tried to appeal to his reason, but Nerrocan followed every one of your movements with the precision of an instinctual predator.

All this time, you tried to assure yourself it wouldn't happen. That you two were better than the vulgar things the researchers had told you about. Just because some caretakers had intimate relationships with their protégés didn't mean it had to happen to you two! You thought you were better than this! That you could make it without crossing the line between two species…

You should have listened to your gut telling you to run a few minutes ago.

Because now you were stuck.

The sound of a big chunk of your wetsuit tearing, pulled you out of your spiral of misery. The hand that had fondled you through the fabric slipped into the tear, going straight back between your legs even though you shut them tight. However, your strength was nothing compared to Nerrocan's, and he easily reached his goal with the sheer mass of his palm.

You wanted to yell at him, insult and tell him how dare he did this to you, but instead of your anger, an unwelcome moan slipped from your tongue over his. Immediately, it was answered by a rumble from his throat. Nerrocan's tongue kept assaulting your mouth, flopping out whenever it became too much to lodge it inside you, all while he was prying open your lower lips, coating his hand in unmistakable arousal. Even though your body's reaction wasn't your fault, you felt ashamed of the squelching and sloppy sounds coming from above as well as below.

It also made you wonder if Nerrocan knew what he was doing. Because you did, but only to a certain extent, and if you both had no idea, that could be deadly.

With all your strength left, you finally turned your head, signaling the kiss to stop. Nerrocan was like a truck, speeding through this process as if he had something important to deliver. But at the same time, he was crushing you with his instincts that were driving him wild. It almost seemed too late to stop, but you had to do all you could to tell him how you felt and how this wasn't right.

"I can't!" you gasped, coughing really hard once his tongue had pulled out completely. "I can't take you! It won't fit! I never… I've never done this before!"

Nerrocan said nothing, the silence stifling. What was he thinking? Did he understand what you meant? Would he stop now? His finger ceased moving, although his palm kept cupping your pussy, completely covered in your slick by now.

"I am… your first," he finally said, but it didn't sound like a question. "No one's ever touched you before."

Heat rose to your head as he spoke it out so clearly. Hiding your face with your hand, you whispered, "No," hoping this would finally deter him. But when you snuck a peek through the gaps between your fingers, all you saw was a mysterious glint in his eyes, and the next thing you heard was a deep rumble resonating through the whole cave.

"I'll take such good care of you," Nerrocan said solemnly, his free hand falling to your head and brushing back some of your hair. He kissed the top of your head multiple times, muttering promises like, "You'll lack nothing, my mate," in between kisses. It didn't seem like he had any intentions to stop, you realized, if anything, this had turned him on even more.

"That's not what I meant!" you protested, but he wouldn't listen. His hand between your legs tensed, pressing outward, the fabric giving way quickly and exposing you completely.

"I'll make you happy, I promise."

"What?! No!"

Panicked, you tried to sit up, only to brace your arm against Nerrocan as he began to move. His weight could crush you, so you had to relent when he rolled onto his chest, hovering above you. Your legs spread outwards to accommodate his tail between them, and Nerrocan crouched a bit higher to line up your hips with his. Still, he was arching his back, keeping his head close to yours.

Even though you found hold on his body, no amount of strength could push him away. Horrified, you looked down between your legs, watching as the tip of his cock pressed out of the slit on his tail, and before you knew it, the massive shaft emerged completely, already twitching as beads of precum ejected from its tip.

"That– That's not possible! We can't! I absolutely can't!"

"You'll do well, mate. I believe in you. I know you can take me, relax."

Lining up his tip to your cunt, more precum bubbled from his cock, the fluids almost as heavy as the air suddenly felt. You'd be fucked to death if he managed to get this monster cock inside you. This was it. This would be the end. And all because you hadn't been more careful, didn't keep your distance like you should have. Trusted him.

"No, no, no, no…" you mumbled, looking up and giving Nerrocan one last fearful look, which he reciprocated immediately. However, instead of understanding, all you saw was desire in his eyes. Lust, pleasure, want. Nerrocan couldn't be reasoned with, not when he wanted to spear you on his cock and use you as his toy to satisfy his needs. You didn't believe he truly thought of you as a mate. A mate would take care of the other, right? Help them get through these situations that made them anxious and afraid! But he was doing the complete opposite, not even giving you a chance to safe yourself.

With a pained groan stuck in your throat, you felt his cock move slowly inside you, prying open your walls. The preparations had given him a small chance to penetrate, but your hymen was tearing just from inserting the tip. Nerrocan, too, took a sharp breath, feeling your tightness as he nudged his shaft inside with small pushes, and already, you could take no more. Nerrocan was going to ruin your poor pussy, and take your first time as if it belonged to him.

"It hurts!" you whined, tears shooting into your eyes as the pain was threatening to overtake you.

Immediately, the merman sprang into action, leaning down, kissing your forehead and face, chirping encouragingly between his sentences. Every time he pushed, a new praise fell as a reward. "You're doing so good," he muttered as you shrieked, his bulbous tip reaching its biggest point. Worse was yet to come, but it hurt like hell. You knew that in a matter of a few pushes, Nerrocan would take your virginity and your pussy for his own pleasure. There was absolutely nothing you could do, and it made you despair.

You clung to him desperately, no deep breath helping you relax. "You can do it; look at you taking me," he tried to soothe you, but there was no chance you could do either. You didn't even want to see him getting inside you, much less experience it. But Nerrocan left you no choice as he advanced. With one rough push, he finally breached the abilities of your pussy, and it gave way to him much too easily.

Your back arched, voice getting stuck in your throat, and you blacked out for a short moment as your hymen tore. The pain of his massive cock taking your first time was too much to handle, but after Nerrocan let out a guttural moan, more juices mingling inside you that were probably equal parts yours and his, he pulled his cock out again before jutting it back into the same place and shaking you awake.

Even though it felt like a nightmare, it was very real and frightening, especially as Nerrocan advanced.

"That's it," he praised, kissing the top of your head. "You're doing so good, my mate, just a little more."

There were more words, but you could barely register them as you felt your walls spread impossibly wide around his shaft, his cock pulsing and throbbing inside you as if to make more space for itself in a completely cramped place. It still felt impossible, but Nerrocan managed to keep digging inch by inch, spreading and claiming more of your pussy for himself. Nerrocan kept trilling next to you, working his shaft back and forth to ease it inside, and you were stuck between helplessness and feeling your body slowly adjust. The idiotic thought of "maybe I am made for this" came over you as you felt the tears spilling from your eyes, allowing you to realize it wasn't supposed to be like this at all.

But here you were, betrayed by your only friend in this strange life you were thrown into, allowing him to call you his mate and fuck you with his big, monstrous cock. You had screwed up, that much was sure, and you didn't know if you'd ever recover from it. Especially not when instead of a scream, another moan escaped you, the moment Nerrocan finally had used up all the space inside of you to claim you.

You sounded so heavenly.

Not only that but your scent, body, everything about you was perfect. The researcher told me that the moment I got to claim you would be the most wonderful thing I ever experienced in my life. And for once, they weren't lying. You smelled heady, the air around us filling with the scent of your need. A need for me. Finally, you wanted me, too, taking me and uniting us as we should be. This was what mateship was all about, the feeling of belonging together, both body and mind.

It was exhilarating.

Your body wound itself beneath me, squeezing and moving around my cock that I finally filled you with. You said you couldn't take it, but you did. My mate. My perfect, beautiful mate, your eyes dazed and filled with tears as I bucked my hips forward gently. You made the most adorable gurgles, biting your lip, although I would have preferred to hear all of your voice, you really didn't have to hold back. Surely, you, too, must have felt the bliss of our union, the beautiful play of our bodies?

And even more exciting than that, you gave me your first time. Your insides were shaping themselves around my cock, learning to accommodate it despite the tightness. Yet, you did so well taking every inch of me, your beautiful thighs pressing against the sides of my tail, keeping me firmly situated inside you. Our mateship must have been meant to be if you waited for me to come into your life before giving me your new, beautiful pussy to mate. To fill, to breed.

Sinking my hands into your hair, I couldn't help myself from pulling your head back, exposing your throat, the most vulnerable part of your delicious body. The slight smell of blood coming from your cunt only made my cock twitch more, tingling all the senses of a hunter. I wanted to bite you so badly, taste your blood on my tongue, and coat my teeth with it that it hurt. There was way too much of your body still covered, even though we had no need for clothes any longer. I almost felt resentful towards the fabric covering you, denying me the view of the most beautiful treasure of this world—you.

I had waited too long for this moment to not leave my mark on your body as I should.

If you were to get lost, anyone should know who you belonged to. Whose fangs they'd have to go against to claim you in the same way I had. As if I'd ever lose a fight when the prize was my mate and the right to keep calling you that. I didn't fight, hunt, and train for so long that just anybody could waltz in and take you from me now.

"I'll be gentle, I promise" I murmured, driving my lips over your shoulder. It was the perfect place, above your heart, next to your throat. My face fit nicely in the curve between your neck and arm, as if this spot was made for my mark. Perhaps, you were. Made for me, that is. I had never seen someone rouse as many emotions in me as you did or induce this constant, mind-numbing heat that I was acting on now. With your pussy around my cock and my teeth about to sink into your body, I was the closest to you that I ever had been, and there was no place I'd rather be.

My throat rumbled in contentment, my whole being agreeing with the thought of marking you. Lips splitting, my teeth were ready to punctuate, to clamp down, to tear. But I wouldn't treat you like that. I'd only taste the sweetest prey I had ever encountered. I wouldn't linger, wouldn't hurt you more than necessary. Hurt, it would, so I fastened the pace of my hips, distracting you with the added friction until you were whining softly with every push. It was adorable when one of your hands clung to my arm, digging your puny little nails into it. But I hoped it would scar. That you'd mark me just like I would, you.

Which gave me the idea to cup your face, prying your mouth open by pushing a finger between your blunt teeth. The damage would be small compared to mine, but it was only right you got the same chance as I did. With all the preparations done, it was time to claim you. I knew it was meant to be, and yet, I hesitated because of the thought of hurting you. But I had to believe in myself. I knew I'd never cause you great harm. I could control the urges and stop when it was necessary. You and I had been through worse together; we'd also get through the stages of mating.

At least, mating was more pleasurable.

"Shh, it's okay, I'll be gentle," I repeated softly, hearing how your breathing turned unnaturally fast after seeing my teeth. A shudder went through you, and I couldn't help groaning as I felt it around my cock, too. Your voice grew louder, vibrating against my finger, but I gave it no heed. Resting my lips on your body, I took one more deep breath, soaking in the scent of your body, your arousal, the tinge of blood I had smelled before.

Delicious.

And with that, my teeth opened, sinking deep into your flesh. The fabric covering you was no more a hindrance than uncovered skin, giving no resistance. But my tongue immediately went to lap up the droplets of blood that formed around my teeth, a strong, desirable taste filling my mouth. Together with the smell of your body they completely fogged my mind, my hips snapping forward harder as your cunt tightened around my cock, reluctant to let me go.

Was this it? The sign that you were cumming? Would I be the first orca to take and claim his human mate in every aspect? A guttural groan resonated through my body, my pace growing harder. I knew it instinctively, it was a mating call. We were now bound to each other. There was no more space to stuff my cock into, but I still hadn't had enough. Gripping one of your beautiful thick thighs in my hand, the flesh so soft and pliable in my grasp, I adjusted our position and brought us even closer together. Our size difference was but a small obstacle when it came to mating, and I was determined to make up for it with my strength and skill.

I had barely heard the first scream you let out when I bit you, much less the beautiful symphony of moans and cries that my finger muffled. Blood coating my tongue, my lips, my throat, I felt my cock swell inside you, the feeling eliciting another shriek against my finger. However, this time, I did notice it. You were biting down so hard as if your life depended on it. It was a cute effort, considering you barely broke through my skin, much less tore junks out of it like I wanted. I could feel your heartbeat in my mouth as it wouldn't stop hammering in your chest, and your pussy held on tight to my cock as I lodged it as deep as possible inside you.

I was going to fill you up to the brim. As much as your little human body could hold of my seed, I'd give to you and then some. Everything was perfect, the sound of your voice, the beating of your heart. The taste of your blood on my lips and the tightness of your cunt as I made the last few pushes towards my release. They promised everything would turn out well, but no one could have prepared me for how wonderful it was to finally be with you.

Roaring wildly into your shoulder, my cock exploded. Little stars clouded my vision as I felt your body spasm beneath me, trying to adjust to the amounts of seed I was pumping in you. A small part hoped it would take root inside you. Would make you round and full with our calves, and I got to care for you throughout the whole pregnancy. Even if this was our first time, I couldn't help but want to breed you to the point you'd be unable to walk on your own anymore. I wanted you to depend on me, lean on me, letting me do everything for you while you created our beautiful little babies. The product of our love for each other. We'd be a perfect little family; nothing could take this from me.

We'd have to wait and see, but I couldn't wait for the day to come.

As fast as it had happened, it was over. My cock was still splurting more cum inside you, but you laid limply beneath me, your own orgasm having taken all your energy out of you. I unlocked my jaw as slowly as possible. However, it made a slight jerk despite my best efforts. But my teeth were finally pulling out of your flesh, leaving only the beautiful marks of our mateship behind, bleeding and sullying the bed, which I more than welcomed.

You groaned, and I finally pried my finger out of your mouth so I could listen to the sound. Your eyes were unfocused and dull. The intensity must have taken a toll on your strength, but you were no less beautiful, your belly swollen with my seed, and your body marked and satisfied.

"You did so well," I purred, giving you small chirps to ensure you'd understand my sincerity. Not everyone could have done so well, but my mate. My mate could. You were beautiful, perfect. Made for me, for our family. I had regretted it many times to have brought you to this place, but just as often did I think it had been the right choice. Now, we were inseparable, and I felt more validated in my choice.

Slowly, I pulled back my cock, your pussy making it hard to exit with how much it clung to me. All while cooing and kissing your face and your body. Already, I felt myself grow hard again, my cock barely able to retract into its slit with how massive it still was. There were still so many things I wanted to do with you. The thoughts of marking other places like your breasts and those delicious thighs were driving me insane with their allure, but I stayed strong for you.

It's what we did for the people we loved, and right now, you just needed me to hold you as your body tried to come down from the height and adore you like I always did. The humans called it "aftercare," and I listened closely to their tips, although I couldn't bring myself to fetch some food and water for you yet. Not when you were curled so adorably in my arms, my hand on your swollen belly, making it easy to imagine what it would be like if you were carrying our little pup inside you. I did feel spent, ready to take a long nap by your side, but not before I made sure you were settled in comfortably, your eyes still wide open as you lay limply on my bed.

Even if this was only the first time, it had made it all worth it. All the pain and suffering, all the fear and traumatic experiences. The fights, the humiliation. Now that I had you by my side, able to call you my mate completely without any doubts, it had been worth the troubles. It would be worth anything that may come in the future as long as I got to hold you again like this, fill you with my seed, and forget everything else that was happening around us. It had taken so long until we finally got this space we could call our own. Decorate, be together in, share love. This was where only we existed, and I couldn't wait to see what we'd do with it in the future, but I knew it would be great.

And no one would get in the way of our happiness, even if you still had doubts.

You let out a quiet shudder, feeling Nerrocan's hand combing through your curls, ruined and messy from what had just happened. It still felt like you were waking up from a nightmare, but the pain had always been there. Both your shoulder and your pussy hurt. You felt the semen run down your lower lips and coat your thighs. Every time Nerrocan rubbed over your belly, another spurt of his jizz shot from your hole, and you felt degraded and disgusted with the feeling of semen sloshing in your womb. It wasn't possible to get pregnant, right? Was it? They were half human-like… that didn't mean you two were compatible, right?

Tears filled your eyes as you couldn't help sobbing out loud. The bitten shoulder had no strength to pull up your arm so you could muffle yourself and the other was almost as dead still from the shock. Even though it hurt, even though you didn't want it, eventually, pleasure caught up to you, making you cum on his huge, massive cock as if you wanted it. It had felt good every time the pain vanished. And even now, Nerrocan was purring and chortling, soothing the pain in your soul even though he had torn it apart.

You'd never be able to trust him again. To work with him even. You'd have to find a new purpose in this facility, but something inside you told you they wouldn't let you. This would be your new life, and you'd have to adjust to it to survive. It was unfair. Painful. You wanted to hate him, yet you still couldn't because of all you two had been through and all he continued to do for you. And although it wasn't right and should have never happened—not like this, at least—you could also understand him to a degree that it was the comfort Nerrocan needed, even if he made it seem like you did, too.

"We're going to have such beautiful calves. You'll be such a good mommy," he praised you, and you sobbed out loud again, taking a deep, unbelieving breath. This couldn't be real, it was just too cruel.

Nerrocan kissed your forehead, cradling your back further against his chest, his cock having slipped back into the slit, and you were thanking any god that was listening for that. You couldn't take any more fucking than that, and you'd never come down into his nest again and indulge him like you had that day. He had already ruined to much, destroyed your body and the relationship you two had.

Moving you only made you feel more of the cum spurting from your pussy, coating you both as you whimpered, and Nerrocan trilled excitedly. "We're going to make so many babies!" he announced, and you wept, the image alone too hard to handle.

"You did so well, today, my mate. I can't wait for the next time," he whispered into your ear, kissing your temple all the way down to your jaw. Every bit of adoration, praise, and intimacy appalled you, and you turned your face away, wanting to grieve your innocence and stupidity as you swore to never allow a repeat of what happened.

"I'm not your mate," you slurred as the exhaustion hit you hard. Even in this situation, dangerous as it was, your body still felt safe enough around Nerrocan to sleep. Traitor, you thought as your eyes closed.

"Yes, you are," he replied softly, noticing your drowsiness as he placed an arm beneath your head, cushioning it. Ironic, wasn't it? Luckily, you were already asleep when he spoke up again, able to preserve the last bits of your sanity from being lost forever.

"I'll do everything to change your mind."

#orcas #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere tw #yandere fanfiction #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere drabbles #yandere oneshot #yandere stories #yandere writing #yandere imagines

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paulinet · 4 months ago

Text

A premonition of love

Warning: comfort/pain, nerve-wracking, headcanons, genderless y/n, ooc, partially own oc(?), understatement, ambiguity, profanity, Medicine Pocket — they/them.

Synopsis: A sudden change in behavior, habits, everything... Why? Another side effect of a drug trial or a crush? A hypothesis whose confirmation will divide Medicine Pocket life into before and after.

Word count: 1000 ≈

From the author: I'm writing about a relatively genderless reader, not a oc for the first time, so this was a bit difficult. I don't know if I'll ever post something specifically about oc here, since the oc isn't quite ready yet and... It's complicated. I wanted to write more, but then it would be a mess. I don't know if I'll write anything else...

English is not my first language, sorry. I tried not to lose the meaning of some points.

Enjoy reading!

I don't think that Medicine Pocket is the kind of person who shouts their crush to every friend or acquaintance until they are sure they have the right to do so. At the very least, it's important to them that you don't think badly of them, but they're not going to do anything to look good in your eyes.

They won't give you flowers or candy, give you secret gifts, or keep you guessing if they're in love with you or if flirt is the new way of communicating. They act as explorers and beyond - exploring the territory. Like dogs.

"This experiment... It will be exciting! Let's see what I can be surprised with!"

At first they won't even realize the fact that they want to see you, almost as dumb as everyone in Laplace, more often. Somewhere close by. They'll just visit you more often, whether you work at Laplace in their department or another department, or whether you're just a member of the St. Pavlov Foundation. They just miss your presence somewhere in the room, whether it's right next to them or at the other end of the lab.

And that's why they've started dropping by so often and just sit down somewhere nearby, at a table or on the couch, or even on the floor. Their notebook and pen are always in their pocket, which means they can work (unless it's an experiment that requires working with reagents).

"What? My lab is noisy. These idiots don't know how to work quietly. By the way, give me a spare pen, I've seen you have one."

They really do act like dogs. They sometimes follow you around, put their head on your shoulder from behind and watch what you are doing, making sure that all sorts of unpleasant personalities do not spoil your mood.

"Got any hands? Got crumbs of brain? Here do your fucking work yourself," notes found on folders or the like at work that your coworkers ask you to do for them.

Suddenly you have more free time, isn't that cool? Now you can spend it on them! Aren't you glad?

Get ready for Medicine Pocket to start looking at you more often. At a random moment you can turn your head at them and see - their gaze either instantly goes in the other direction, just a little bit, or they continue to stare at you. The latter happens almost always, and the former only when they have somewhere to look behind you.

They are just watching you. They just watch how your day goes, what you do after hours, how many times you take breaks, what you read or watch, what music you like, how many spoonfuls of sugar you put in your tea, and how many centimeters your heels are if you wear them. It's not stalking, no, it's just that they tend to pick up on the details while continuing to go about their work.

"You're staring."

"I'm watching the puppy behind you."

"... He's already run away."

"I can see his shadow from here. That's enough."

And curiosity just eats them up. You are a special experiment, repeat, special! Medicine Pocket want to know everything. Their cheeks redden and their lips stretch into a smile as they make a list in their heads of what they've learned about you! Even if it's something insignificant. Even if you find it unpleasant about yourself - they just love getting to know you from every angle.

"How can you like tea without sugar? It's just empty water with leaves. Although, if you compensate it with sweets... Well, it's not bad."

Sometimes they share with you what they are researching or working on. Clever words fly out of your poor head. If you don't know anything at all about their work, that's okay, they'll explain it more clearly. They enjoy the fact that you listen to them, talk to them, give them your time. They like all of this and are willing to tell you much more about their work if it means spending more time with you. Talk about your work following them, it will mean you don't mind initiating them into your work - and that's cool too! They'll be happy to comment on it all in their own style.

"I didn't understand a word you said."

"We're on break for another two hours, and I'll tell you what I'm doing in paragraphs. Now, don't interrupt. Now, alcindoromycin..."

But at the same time, Medicine Pocket acting completely normal. They don't show any signs that they have fallen in love with you, that they are interested in you as more than just a friend. They treat you as usual - they really try, but every day it becomes more and more unbearable. You just won't realize that they are in love with you, no matter how hard you try. They act small and careful.

How can they not just give you a hug when you have your back to them and are doing something? How not to bring you the sweets you liked at Laplace's coffee shop? How can they not cover you with their lab coat when you're overworking and fall asleep on your own desk or couch? Well how do you not pull you out of yet another of X's experiments that he's gotten you into for like 2 hours now? (They don't care if it's safe for you, he's taking up your time too).

"Hey, alphabet boy! Find someone else to experiment on!"

"But I don't mind..."

"You're BUSY. You've got a LOT of work to do. You hear them, X? So find someone else."

They feel simultaneously so joyful, so overexcited, so good about everything they feel!

But when they realize in an instant that they've actually fallen in love with you? They're fucking shocked at themselves. And in what way they don't understand.

"Uh-huh... And that's why these calculations are completely unwarranted, how could I even think of that... Oh. Damn it."

Can Medicine Pocket fall in love? They can, who's stopping them? But... They've never thought about it until now. No, they don't know what to do in this situation. They suddenly don't know what to do next. What to do?

And the realization hits them with a heavy stone of several tons.

They're just living their lives, and suddenly you show up in their lives and abruptly force them to do something else different from their normal behavior. They get angry. They're gritting their teeth and they're annoyed. At you, at themselves, at everything around them.

Poor Laplace.

"I'll deduct it from your funding for next month, Medicine Pocket."

"Damn it, why are the wires chewed up?! They're reinforced, for crying out loud!"

"Who let those dogs in here?! They're going to ruin our jobs, and I'm allergic to them too... AAPPCHH!"

And then they calm down and act normal when they friends start to worry about they. When you start to worry. Everyone hears something like "Lucy sent off to re-fill the report" or "Didn't get funding" and etc. They just try to let the situation go.

"I'm fine, dammit! Will you stop wasting my time and get on with it, or does no one understand in words?!"

It hurts, yes. They clench their teeth, but they've stopped emotionally biting.

Now there's the occasional sad-eyed puppy in that spot.

Just notice them already. Give some sign to make them realize you're interested in them for who they are!

Please.

They're not mad at you anymore. No, no, no, they're not! They're just-

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! Get your ass up and deal with these papers before I shove them up your-"

They take their anger out on their coworkers.

And...

They're just afraid of a bad result for this time. Compare that to the experiment. Only now the Medicine Pocket won't be angry, annoyed that what they studied didn't live up to their expectations - they'll be broken.

That's why they're waiting. If you don't take the first steps - then their hypothesis was wrong all along. Understand, they are already not appreciated by many people in Laplace because of their behavior, character, appearance, manner of communication and etc, they are just used to being rejected by society.

And they don't care about it, they don't give a fuck, honestly. But here. Yeah, they're cowards, all right?! There are things that make them squirm on the spot. There's nothing wrong with that, they're human, they just act like a dog half the time.

They can chicken out too. They're smart, no, geniuses, but they're not devoid of humanity and emotion. It's just that they've never felt something like this before this moment, they've reviewed all the options, check their notebook, there's a plethora of scenarios in there, and almost all of them aren't happy with them. They're stuck in a dead end.

"Why is this not working?! Where did I miscalculate... Why the fuck try to figure it out if the result is the same? This experiment is a failure from the start... Shit!"

And yet the people they like are their best friends. Among all these dumbasses, there are those who know how to use this thing called a brain. And they're willing to fight for them, to help them in any way they can. But you mean more than "best friends".

So go ahead. They'll be happy if the experiment is successful.

"One condition only: if they make another move, I'll follow them. I've already started all this, but doing it alone just doesn't make sense. I'm tired, damn it. I need to get some sleep."

Come on. They're always bold in everything, they're sharp, they're loud, they go forward no matter what. But here they will cede the main action to you. If you're attentive enough, you think well enough and you know how to use your head, you'll give them the green light.

And believe me, Medicine Pocket will repay you for this step.

I feel like I have a very different understanding of Medicine Pocket compared to other people, and it's very, very satisfying and frightening (well, I may not understand the character at all and am writing at random). Still, I spent some time on it, so...

With too few fanfics on the vastness of the internet with Medicine Pocket, I thought I'd do my part (つ･･)つ

I hope you enjoyed it.

Thanks for reading!

#medicine pocket x reader #reverse 1999 x reader #x reader #medicine pocket reverse 1999 #medicine pocket #reverse 1999

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alicenpai · 10 months ago

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lost and found children stickers - coming soon... very happy to get some more original merch underway!! learn more about my ocs, if you want, sketch below + some lore tidbits!!

i would love to become more of an original artist over time but putting ocs out there feels like im running out into the world nude LMAO T__T my ocs are so personal to me, and i put pieces of myself in all of them, that it feels so nerve wracking to post.. one day a comic will come..

funnily enough i started this sheet back in june but didnt have time until off-con season to finish em.. i really want to be like those crazy oc creators with 129045894589 illustrations and little trinkets of ocs. soon. some lore: trent & terence are brothers, the twins are fraternal twins (smiles). also there IS a ship in here and once i get over my embarrassment of drawing ships it's gonna be so over for you all!! (joke) i was so brazen with ships pre-2019 but i cant draw it anymore T_T

-- some trivia that didn't make the cut, i was gonna turn this into an info sheet but i couldn't fit all this text in the layout. sorry the trivia is a bit snarky im in a big sam & max phase right now

☀

Melissa of Giacosa (name pending??) Age: 30 Height: 5'4" (WITH heels) Gender: F Occupation: Noble/ scholar/ philanthropist

Helpfulness: 5 Occultic knowledge: 5

A general people pleaser, and excellent at reading people, but sometimes the responsibilities are all too much… sometimes a girl just wishes to watch the world burn!

✨

Flynn & Nate of Medeis (real names unknown) Age: 17 Height: 5'6", 5'3" (respectively) Gender: M & F twins Birthday/Asc: Nov 25 (Sagittarius) Occupation: Travellers/ scholars

Luck: 1 Resourcefulness: 5

Uh oh… beware these theatre kids. As travelling magicians (LICENSED), they bring smiles and laughter to all throughout the land. No one really knows who they are, where they're from, or… how many germs they have.

🎹

Terence Nightingale Age: 18 Height: 5'8" (looks shorter due to posture) Gender: M Birthday/Asc: Feb 11 (Aquarius) Occupation: Pianist

Fame: 5 Energy level: 2

Knowing the taste of fame at a young age, Terence now has to carry that burden into adult life. Will age turn prodigy into mediocrity? Will he be crushed under a piano? Will he let himself be sandwiched between twenty bedsheets and a pea?!?! Find out in the next exciting episode…

🖋

Jack Lockhart Age: 25 Height: 5'7" Gender: M Birthday/Asc: Jan 3 (Capricorn) Occupation: Historian

Knowledge: 4 Strength: 4

With a sharp wit and tongue, and an even sharper blade, it might be best to steer clear of this one. Unfortunately, cats like him, so he never gets any peace, ever. --

🧵

Noa (real name unknown) Age: 17 Height: 5'1" Gender: F Birthday/Asc: Oct 30 (Scorpio) Occupation: Seamstress

Scornful gaze: 5 Fashion sense: 5

The word "smile" does NOT exist in her vocabulary. Blending old trends with the new, Noa is an up-and-coming innovator in the world of textiles and fashion. But what tricks does she have up her sleeve… literally?

🔬

Trent Nightingale Age: 25 Height: 6'2" Gender: M Birthday/Asc: Jun 1 (Gemini) Occupation: Biologist

Knowledge: 4 Gift of gab: 5

A rock that ties people together-type of personality, and tries to get along with everyone, maybe to his own detriment. Trent has an unassuming look, but is quite the scholar - he can often be seen with his nose in a book or scribbling away, disappointing those who vie for his attention more as a social butterfly.

#my ocs #lost and found children #original characters #original #original merch #melissa #flynn & nate #noa #jack #trent #terence

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silverskye13 · 1 year ago

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how did you get the confidence to write fanfiction? i always worry that i won't portray the characters properly so any ideas or wants to write fanfics that i have go away or i talk myself out of it :(

Well! First and foremost: Most people don't start writing,,,, anything with confidence. Let alone fanfic, where you know other people are going to be looking at it, with their own ideas of how the characters are supposed to act and feel influencing what they're coming to the story with. My first fanfic I was very insecure, which I feel like was evident, reading through the author's notes now. Apologies whenever something that required a lot of suspension of disbelief happened, a poll so readers could decide the ending so I wouldn't disappoint anybody, only to end in me writing and posting three different endings. Long justifications for why I chose certain things in the author's notes. The fic nowadays reads to me like a very rough apology.

"Hi I'm sorry I tried. Be kind I'm very scared."

But the thing about writing that fic was, it was the writerly equivalent of jumping into the deep end of the pool for the first time. After I bobbed back to the surface and realized a shark hadn't like, taken my legs off while I was down there, jumping in again got easier. And kept getting easier. And now I just write and post things.

There's kind of two schools of thought that I've seen people subscribe to, when it comes to taking the first leap. The one that's really popular around here on Tumblr is: Do it scared. It is simple and straightforward. You are scared. You will be scared. You probably never won't be scared. So do it scared. Write your thing, close your eyes and hit send [either to post it or to share it with one or two friends, or even just hitting the "save" button and not deleting it]. Get scared, do it, close your eyes, finish. When you open your eyes again and nothing terrible has happened, you can breathe a sigh of relief and do it scared again. It's a little nerve-wracking at first, but the idea is giving your mind the association of jumping and not falling. I did it and I didn't fail, therefore it is safe to do it again.

The other school of thought [the one I specifically subscribe to] is: Do it once. What you think or feel about it doesn't matter. What matters is you did it once. Maybe it will be hell, or it'll suck terribly. Maybe you're really excited! And it turns out great! Maybe its a wild ride of ups and downs, and by the end you need a few months to catch your breath and decide if it was worth it. Regardless: you did it once. Now you know, if you want to, you can do it again. Now you can decide if its worth doing again. For me, the euphoria of finishing a project always far outweighs the trouble getting there, so the step forward of "Do it once" is powerful for me. And that can be broken down too. "Write one chapter." "Draw one drawing." "Clean one room in the house." There is no pressure to continue if its really that terrible, but you at least get to decide if one was worth it [and a solid 9 times out of 10, one was worth it enough to do it more.]

Now, all that said, if what you're worried about is writing the characters right and nothing else -- don't worry too much. Most people care less about how true to life the characters are, and care a lot more about consistency in the story. An example from RnS: In canon, Helsknight is a cartoonish villain with one motivation, and that motivation is taking over hermitcraft Doofenschmirtz style. To date, no one has come into my inbox demanding I change him, because he's so OOC he's basically an OC at this point. What people have come into my inbox about though, is "Hey, you established X in this chapter, but he said Y in this chapter. Was there a reason for that?" which is them saying, "Why didn't you keep your character consistent?" If you tell your audience what the expectations are for the story and you stick with them, they will stop caring about OOC moments and characterizations, and will trust you're going somewhere with your writing. Suspension of disbelief, your powerful friend! They put the world on their shoulders and carry and everybody watches and claps.

If you're also worried about consistency, then start out with one shots! There's a lot less room for error, no large, sweeping character arcs to keep track of. And stringing a bunch of one-shots together can give you practice with character consistency and progression without committing to something massive and overarching. If you're truly worried about making the characters exactly like Canon [or the Canon in your head], I recommend making little lists of character traits, or important things you want to keep in mind. At that point you're scared of your own consistency, and you just need a framework to keep yourself consistent enough for yourself, if that makes sense?

Hopefully! This helps! Sorry I'm a little scattered today :'D

#answering asks #caramelcoatednightmares #writing advice #fanfic advice #longpost #the barking writer #im very sleepy and still thinking about soup #i think maybe i'm just very thirsty

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obislittleone · 1 year ago

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The Winner Takes It All

Episode 15

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader

Chapter Warnings: This one is a little nerve wracking and angsty but there's a lot of fluff, too. ALSO THE BIG REVEAL.

Chapter Summary: The crowning ceremony has begun, but Snow's words drive Finnick to do something he may regret sometime in the near future.

Word Count: 5.0k

Season two is being written rn I'm about halfway through and It will be 20 chapters (I will not be posting them any time soon bc i swore i would finish some other series)

“I think that they were enraptured purely by you, Mercedes.” But your face still did not change, and he didn’t know why. Why were you so completely happy? He had known for certain from watching the games that you did not win them for glory or for stature. You won them to survive, to exact vengeance. So why were you filled with joy? “I suppose it was t-the work of my mentor,” you breathed out, never looking away from him in the crowd. He couldn’t hear a word being said, but he was smiling back at you all the same.

Waking up felt achy the next morning. Like your entire body had been dragged through hell and landed in this bed, surrounded by comforts you’d never seen. It felt like you were slightly dehydrated, and most likely experiencing the strain of tight muscles from the night before. The way you’d cried, your entire body jolting like it was the end of the world, it was now affecting you.

You felt as if you were dying, but then as you came into clearer consciousness, you felt the warmth surrounding you, in the form of two arms that were tightly wound over and under your body, holding you close to his own that practically radiated heat. It was your reminder, that though you felt like dying, there was still something left for you here.

It wasn’t said that you had to be awake by a certain time, nor did anyone go over your schedule for the day ahead of you in any moments prior. It stands to reason that you don’t make any moves to get up. It’s why you don’t even stir past a few blinks of your still sleepy eyes, staring with great interest at Finnick’s resting features. He’s so beautiful and defined, but without those snarky expressions or that dazzling smile, he looks so peaceful and soft. If not for the light shining in gentle beams over his shoulder, you may not have awoken, but you’re glad you did. You find you rather like looking at him, especially so close and personally, in a way that few others have ever seen him.

After a few moments you allowed your eyes to close again, snuggling further into his chest, right between his shoulders. He had nice shoulders, you noted. They were broad and tan and strong.

He stirred not long after, tightening his hold around your body and pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. It was small and he thought that you weren’t even awake to feel it, but every time he did that you were slowly understanding why he did it. It was just a gesture, sweet and endearing, and a reminder. You’re here, you’re alive, and you’re with him.

His fingers found solace in the strands of your hair, the length gliding through and falling over his palms. He came to a conclusion the night before, after the charade with the Flickerman Interview played out. He watched you go through that, alone on a stage, with only gawking capitol members surrounding you. Your trauma didn’t matter to them. To them it was drama, and they loved it… wanted to see more.

He kissed your hairline once more and started to whisper in your ear.

“We have to get up soon,” his voice was low and raspy from sleep.

You groaned in defiance, turning in his arms but not leaving them, instead pulling them closer around your front as you buried your face into his elbow.

“No we d-don’t…”

He sighed. He certainly did not want to get up. He thinks back to every moment during the games when his stomach turned with fear, his jaw staying in a state of constant tightness while watching you in that arena. His belief that you could win was never unbothered by the small voice in his head telling him you were going to die. He remembered the feeling of dread that would fill him to the brim every time he saw you close to death, knowing he’d never hold you like this. Never be able to kiss the crown of your head or pull you closer into the curve of his body where you seemed to fit perfectly.

Eventually, you both got up, because today was the crowning ceremony. The Victor was to accept her title and become the Capitol’s newest darling. You understood what came with it, and despite the horrors you knew you would face, you told yourself you were ready to take it on. This is the cost of escaping the arena with your life, when all others, including your allies, and best friend, did not.

Dalton had left your new dress and necklace in the apartment that morning, unable to stay for an interview he had himself. The stylist of the newest Victor, the current peak of popular fashion. The one who was capable of extenuating even the most desirable of the tributes.

You opened the garment bag that was hanging on a portable rack in the living room, reading the small note that was peaking through the sides.

For the mermaid… knock em’ dead. - D

You smiled and took a look at the dress, your eyes lighting up as you pulled the floor length get up out of the bag. It was a stunning turquoise with an iridescent top layer, pearls and fish beads sewn into the fabric. The edges of the bottom looked like crashing waves, and it flared out in comparison to the tightness of the top.

You took the dress back to your room, starting to get ready, but you realized you weren’t sure what to do with your hair. It was just down and around your shoulders right now, and you wished you’d had your mother’s expert hand in braiding it or twisting it into some sort of crown.

You sighed in frustration after your third failed attempt, and though you hadn’t been paying attention to your groans and noises of annoyance, Mags had, because her door had been open, right across from yours, open as well.

She leaned in the frame, watching you struggle for the last time before you threw the comb in your hand onto the vanity before you, leaning your head into your hands.

Mags stepped in right away, her silent approach calming when she gently placed her hands on your shoulders, reaching in front of you and picking up the comb you dropped. You lifted your head and met her eyes in the vanity mirror before smiling to her in relief.

“T-thank you.”

She made quick and gentle work of pulling the strands in her direction, twisting them together and taking small pins from the vanity to place them down. By the time she was finished, your hair was put into a sweet looking bun, small tendrils framing your face and behind your ears.

“It l-looks beautiful.”

She lightly patted your shoulder, helping you out of your seat and over to the bathroom to change into your dress.

Finnick had been waiting to leave for a few minutes now. He knew Mags had gone to the rescue when you were struggling with your hair, but he wasn’t sure why everything else had taken so long. Dalton didn’t usually take very long preparing any tribute that sat in front of him. He supposed it was because he had a lot more experience.

Dalton was technically not the stylist for the female tributes from four… but he was Finnick’s stylist, and friend, and when Finnick asked for him by name before the games, the man had no qualms about saying yes. He felt he would have to owe Dalton a favor of some sort, because in his mind, having him as your stylist saved your life.

He had gotten caught up in his thoughts, but turned on his heel as soon as he heard the sound of pearlized shoes clicking along the floor behind him. The dim lighting from the barely open shades provided a soft haze over the room, a glowing ambience, the reflection off the black tile allowing a certain allusion of floatation when you entered the room.

You looked beautiful, of course, but he noticed a confidence in your step he hadn’t seen since before the arena. You looked more powerful, more ethereal.

He wanted to say something when he met your eyes, wanted to open his mouth and feel actual words leave his mouth, but the longer he was locked onto you, the less his mind was able to work coherently. Words failed him completely, and rightfully so.

“I t-think Dalton outdid h-himself,” You beamed, giving a small and slightly clumsy twirl in the dress.

The first thing that came to his mind was the conversation Lukas had with Rodey in the arena, how he thought he’d fallen in love with you because of one night when you twirled in a dress, lighting up like a star in a dark sky. He recalled the exact words. Like some crazed wind turbine. You’d only twirled once, but he could only imagine it was the same as all those years ago. You had a spark of happiness in your eyes, even after everything. He caught a glimpse of your whole body before returning to your facial expression again.

“You’re beautiful,” he smiled, finally able to gather the two simple words he’d been searching for this entire time. You’re beautiful, you’re innocent, despite the games. You’re a force to be reckoned with in the best way possible. He wants to preserve this image of you, keep it untarnished, so he tucks it away in the recesses of his mind to return to in the future. “The color suits you.”

Your smile and slight giggle that erupted told him that maybe you were just as nervous as he was, and perhaps you were just more outwardly expressive.

“You look g-good, too.”

He didn’t even think about how he looked, if he was being honest. An older white knit sweater shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and embellished buttons on the side coming directly from both of your district.

“I’ve been known to clean up nice, sometimes,” he laid on the charm, trying his best to wear a facade before he even stepped outside. There was no use in keeping on in his stare like a poor love struck boy. He had a show to put on, today.

He offered his arm, and you took it without hesitation, glancing over at Mags who had only now made her presence known, following you all to the door. Arbin would probably already be at the party, knowing him. He needed to be where the noise was, the drama, and the excitement. A true capitol citizen, except for maybe he had compassion. More than any of the other higher up bloodsuckers did, anyway.

The ride to the center of the capitol was extremely wild, the shouts of fans outside the windows, they were screaming and shouting. You couldn’t bring yourself to dislike it, though you didn’t exactly throw yourself into the adoration, either. This was life, now. You didn’t have a choice or a way to change it, so you might as well just let the world go on around you.

The fanfare of triumphant music began the moment you stepped onto the concrete, the grounds and buildings around you decorated with things reminiscent of four. You were somehow always surprised when the capitol showed a new part of itself to you, as if you expected something different. They strangely romanticized the cultures of the districts, but would never even think about setting foot in any of them except for the ones that are well off.

You allowed yourself to feel important while roaming amongst the citizens. Making your way to the glorious stage, where a throne awaited and President Snow stood by. He seemed much more intimidating now that you were going to have to approach him.

The steps of the platform were steep, so you took your time going up them. You ignored the thought in the back of your brain telling you to stop stalling and to go faster, but by the time you completely shoved it away, you’d reached the top anyways.

You nodded to the man with a smile, forced. He came before you, offering his hand to be shaken. You took it right away, scared to anger him in any capacity. There was a story you’d heard in passing about the girl from last year who refused to shake his hand. She hadn’t had a happy moment since the end of her games.

“Congratulations, my dear. You are a worthy adversary.”

The cold blue of his eyes burned like ice in your veins, and you swallowed back the anxiousness that built up in your throat. You kept a pleasant look on your face but in an instant, you could tell he was reading every single inch of you, and knew what you were thinking. He knew you were afraid of him, and the smirk he wore as you responded was only confirmation.

“Thank you, s-sir.”

“You may be aware, you’ve had an effect on the people in the capitol,” he commented, turning away to take the crown of silver and pearl off of the stand beside him. If this were under different circumstances, you would have taken notice of the beautifully crafted headpiece that was made specifically to suit you. “They find you quite lovely.”

“They must have ap-pprecitated my stylist,” you tried to deflect, feeling even more the prey under a predator than before. The conversations with Finnick, the things he said you were going to be expected to do. It rushed past you, and yet… something felt stuck in your brain, because the weight didn’t hit you yet. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that as you turned, allowing him to place the crown on your head, your eyes met a pair of sea green ones, at the front of the crowd. He looked at you differently than any of these people did, or even had the capacity to. And it made you feel safe. Even in this situation of uncertainty and a path of future turmoil, he was going to be there, so you were going to be okay.

You smiled, genuinely, and for the first time since you arrived, Snow could not read you.

“I suppose it was t-the work of my mentor,” you breathed out, never looking away from him in the crowd. He couldn’t hear a word being said, but he was smiling back at you all the same.

“Well,” Snow turned to catch where your eyes were locked, and now he held an even bigger smirk across his face. The information gained just from a single glance was ever beneficial to a man like President Snow. He hummed when he saw the strand of eye contact, nodding to himself. He didn’t like the way you were suddenly un-bothered by him. Perhaps there was something he could say to change that. “In any case, I hope we can be friends. Perhaps do favors for one another.”

Hearing the word favors made you still for a moment, and Finnick saw it. That was when your skin crawled, and you returned to your previous state of thinking, and feeling.

Something happened, he knew… but he wouldn’t ask. He’d let you tell him.

He just didn’t think you’d tell him so quickly. After coming off the stage, you didn’t even look at the people passing by, reaching for you and calling your name. It was all noise until you reached him. There was another venue to get to, anyway. You didn’t want to stay long in the first place.

“You alright?” He whispered, letting you take his arm once more as you both walked through the noise and back to the vehicle.

“I d-don’t know,” you breathed, trying to keep a neutral expression before anyone noticed. “I need to l-leave.”

“Mags,” Finnick turned to his side, where she stayed right by the both of you. “Help her to the car, I’ll find Arbin.”

“No,” you stopped in your tracks, grabbing a hold of his arm tighter. You were only now thankful for the loud ambience, covering the transparency of this dire situation. “Please, s-stay.”

Mags patted his arm, nodding her head back to the crowd as she dove back into it to retrieve the infamous Capitol rep of district four.

“I’m here,” he soothed, taking your hand and squeezing it as you kept moving to the car. There was a moment of tension when a few nosey Capitol citizens blocked the door he was trying to open.

“The mermaid! Oh darling you are even more stunning in person,” they rambled, reaching out to touch you, as indecent as it was. The woman’s hands found your other hand, squeezing it, but not in a comforting way like the man beside you. The woman’s husband seemed to eye you up and down from the moment you stepped before them. “Isn’t she just gorgeous?”

“Absolutely, she is!” The husband gave you a wink and your stomach turned again, the tightness in your chest was making the world spin. The moment the man placed a hand on your shoulder, you felt it ripped away, as quickly and carefully as possible.

“She’s unfortunately leaving now,” Finnick said flippantly, stepping between them and pulling the door open, making sure they were not going to touch you again. “Thanks for coming out.”

You climbed into the backseat quickly, hearing some gasps of dramatic proportion and words of contempt for Finnick.

When the door closed, you felt safer, but not safe. You weren’t quite able to decipher the quick change in your emotions. You thought you were fine, even with everything around you. Even with the thoughts of what you would have to endure… so what changed? Snow’s words were only those of confirmation to what you already knew was true. It didn’t change anything.

You couldn’t meet Finnick’s eyes anymore, and you had no clue as to what would cause your aversion to him. He’s helping you, he’s protecting you. You have no reason to be afraid of facing him.

“Mercy,” he took hold of your cheek, trying to gently convince you to look his way. “What happened?”

You shook your head. “I’m n-not sure. Snow said some t-things. But I expected it…”

He looked at you with a sadder expression, one of pity and condolences, but that’s not what bothered you. What bothered you now was the thought that he was going to see you differently from how he did before, even how he does now.

If you were shoved into the life that he’d been forced into, would he think of you as tainted? Would he see the marks of capitol citizens and treat you as though you’re a ruined object? Surely, he couldn’t. He’s never looked at you with an ounce of contempt, not even after the arena. So then why do you feel so small and unworthy of his affectionate gaze?

“I know things w-will change,” you kept on, since he didn’t have any words to say. “I just d-don’t want others to look at m-me differently, if they find out.”

“Merc-”

“I don’t w-want you to look at me d-differently.”

Your eyes, lids and under eye coated with a pearly glaze that had been such a struggle for you and Mags earlier… it began to run with the wetness from the bleary corners and over your cheeks.

He let out a deep breath, his heart nearly shattering over how your bottom lip quivered with your stuttered words. He saw in you a person that would soon know exactly what it was like to be him, and he hated it. He tucked you into himself closely, holding onto the back of your head and caressing the exposed skin of your back.

“I know this… feeling. I used to feel it. Nothing ever made it better,” he explained, and as you breathed him in, you waited. Waited for him to tell you that there was no shame in being seen differently, waited for him to say that being seen differently didn’t change the way he would talk to you, or treat you... “But I promise you, none of that could ever make me see you differently.”

You pulled back to meet his gaze, soft and unwavering. You didn’t realize how you trembled in his arms until he ran his hands down the side of your shoulders and down to your elbows. He stilled your movement and leaned his forehead against yours, breathing with you like he did all that time ago before the arena.

“Snow has power over a lot, but he can’t change the way I feel about anyone, most of all you, Mercy.”

You smiled, the way he spoke opened a new trail of thoughts in your mind that were much more pleasant than the ones from before. How he felt about you, how did he feel about you? You assumed fondly, for the way he held you so gently… but there could be something more. Something that you never thought could be there with anyone. Your past experiences were never kind to you, but maybe this time the odds were in your favor.

“Thank y-you,” you sniffed, the smile you’d been wearing earlier in the day finally making a reappearance.

“Don’t thank me.”

“I h-have to. You’re the reason t-that I’m alive at all…”

“S’just my job,” he mumbled, but you both knew it wasn’t true. He’d never saved a tribute before. He never cared this much. And now, you being brought into this world he just escaped from, he knew what he had to do.

The scene started to return to normal when the car pulled up to the second destination.

Time for another show, but maybe this one didn’t need to end in tears.

“Alright,” he wiped under your eyes and readjusted your hair for you, making it look like nothing even happened. “I’ll stay close, make sure they keep their distance. You’re gonna be okay.”

You nodded, looking out the window at the anticipating guests of the large hall. It was like the crowning ceremony, but maybe a bit more rambunctious. The people, however, seemed a bit tipsy and unserious. It was a proper party, a celebration of their yearly tradition.

“It’s not too late t-to have a good t-time, is it?”

He let a genuine laugh escape him, and shook his head. He was still locked onto you, and a part of him didn’t even want to leave the car… but as usual, there were expectations.

“Not at all.”

He walked the halls with a chill down his spine. The last time he’d had a private audience with Snow, his life changed for the worst. This time he’d hoped to feel a bit more power at the prospect that he was the one seeking Snow’s presence. Only time would tell if that feeling of power ever made itself known, because standing before the large and ornate wooden doors, knocking rapidly, it wasn’t anywhere to be found.

The doors were opened by two house staff, and Snow awaited at his desk on the other side.

“Come in, dear boy,” he ushered with a smile, even backed by genuine joy, it looked menacing. “Have a seat.”

He did as he was told, turning and watching as the staff left them alone together, closing the doors as they left the room. The cold air of the night was seeping in through the open window, and it took everything in him not to visibly shiver.

“What can I do for you?” Snow offered, leaning back into his seat, that twisted, gleeful look never washing from his face. “It’s been a long time since we’ve sat down together.”

Finnick nodded, trying to keep the air light, but knowing the second he started in that it would change. He tried not to grimace in the president’s direction, lord knows he wanted to.

“I have a few questions about the new victor,” he began, his shoulders turning slightly inwards and his posture failing him the second he mentioned you. He was terrified to be doing this. Terrified that it might backfire and you would be punished… but he wasn’t going to let what happened to him now befall you. Any means necessary.

“If you are wondering about any favors I may ask from Miss Blythe, I’m afraid it’s none of your concern…” Snow’s voice was solid, but not harsh. He spoke forwardly, as he always did, but he was intrigued in the slightest to hear out one of his most profitable victors. “You’ve helped her win the games and usually it is customary after that happens to forget about her affairs, so I ask, dear boy… What plagues you?”

He didn’t know if he should proceed. He was in the lesser seat, with the lesser circumstances. He always has been, victor or not. How foolish of him to think he had a chance at the upper hand. No power comes to those who sit beneath the Capitol’s boot.

He almost gave up, almost changed the subject… but then he remembered the look you’d given him just moments ago. That sweet, beautiful, shining glance you gave him, wearing a crown of silver and pearl upon your head. He will do whatever it takes to not let that gleam in your eyes be tarnished. It may have survived the hunger games, but he isn’t willing to chance putting it through years of abuse and torment.

“I know what you plan on asking her to do,” he remembers the way he was once asked, the chill again sweeping over his neck and down his back. He remembers the day it happened, at the end of his victory tour. He remembers his dread, but he continues, anyway. “I’ve come to ask if I could take her place.”

Snow tilted his head, a sort of funny expression was worn. He looked, for lack of a better word, puzzled. It was quite hard to surprise the president.

“I see.”

There was a moment where Finnick could see the gears turning inside Snow’s mind. He was curious as to the reasoning behind it, because surely, if he thought about it for this long, he would not deny him his request? Maybe he’d been returned the upper hand after all.

“I find it admirable, that you would do favors for me in place of another tribute. I do think, however, I may need remind you…” Snow leaned forward towards his desk, his eyes opening wider as to show his sincerity. “You are not quite as popular right now as Miss Blythe.”

“I’ve already taken that into consideration. I understand that a mentor’s role in a victory tour is limited, but I can change that.”

Snow’s intrigue did not fall, in fact it increased.

“Do tell, Mr. Odair.”

Finnick almost felt relief. Had the cards finally been stacked in his favor? He doubts it, because he’s not asking for just your freedom, he’s only asking to bear the task of your sexual slavery himself. There’s no such thing as ‘in his favor’ when it concerns Snow.

“I’ve been known to make a spectacle of myself, as you know. Last few years I’ve reigned it in, but I think it might be time for a comeback. Finnick Odair, the mentor who promised himself a victor, and won.”

It was an engaging concept, and a true one at that. Snow thinks he must be telling the truth, but of course, he’s not just one to assume.

“And did you?” His eyebrow raised along with his question, and Finnick got caught up in it… “Did you promise yourself Miss Blythe would win? Or just a district four tribute?”

Finnick doesn’t have an answer to that. Originally, yes, he’d promised himself any district four tribute would become victor… and after meeting the pair from the reaping, he thought it would be Lukas… but then you spoke, stuttering and stumbling through a single sentence, and his world collapsed.

“I promised myself a victor this year, and I kept that promise. Miss Blythe just happened to be the more, as you put it, popular one.”

Snow smirked, not smiled, smirked. He sat back into his chair again, his relaxed position led Finnick to believe that he was in agreement, and he was… but there were always going to be catches.

“If you can somehow outshine Mercedes Blythe on her victory tour, the responsibilities you wish to take on in her stead will resume. If you do not, you must understand it is a task for the most desired of victors to obtain,” he spoke evenly, as if this were some sort of high honor that victors were clawing at one another to have a chance at.

“I understand.”

“Good, that’s good.” There was one thing sitting at the edge of Snow’s mind, a question he was positive he knew the answer to, but wanted to hear it for himself. Words were so much more valuable to him these days. “I have one more curiosity I was hoping you could resolve.”

Finnick looked on, Snow’s position changing one last time. He leaned over the desk, holding a tight contact with Finnick’s eyeline. He was staring so ruthlessly, it didn’t even matter what Snow’s question was, he was already terrified to answer.

“Why would you, after just a year being relieved of your obligations, take up the place of the new victor?”

His stomach turned. There was no right answer here. If he lies, he looks indifferent. If he tells the truth, he’s given Snow information he shouldn’t have.

“I don’t think she can handle what’s expected of her,” he tried to mix the truth and lies. It wasn’t false, but it certainly wasn’t his primary reasoning. Snow knew it immediately.

“Mr. Odair, we’ve been friends a long time, you need not hide the truth from me… so I ask once more, why have you come to make this deal on behalf of Miss Blythe?”

“I want to protect her,” was his next attempt, but still not the answer Snow was looking for. The old man felt the boy was trying his patience, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he heard what he’d been after.

“Why?”

Finnick looked at the man’s eyes, cold and discomforting, despite the soft smoothness of his voice and tone. He knew that Snow already had the information Finnick tried to keep from him. He knew that there was no use in hiding it, and the only thing Snow wanted was to hear it aloud. Finnick wanted to leave this room, to get back to the celebration and see your gleaming smile again. He wanted to be in your presence and remind himself again why he was doing this. Even now, as he answers Snow by saying the words, he’s reminded.

“Because I love her.”

And Snow smiles again, the devious look and raise of his brow gives him away when he chuckles under his breath.

“Yes, I know you do.”

tags(open): @thepassionatereader @i-voluntears @secretsicanthideanymore @mystargirl-interlude @c4ttheart @lilibrn @emma-andrea1 @marvelescvpe

#finnick imagine #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair thg #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #thg finnick #finnick x reader #finnick odair x oc #finnick x you #sam claflin x reader #sam claflin

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muffinflavoredeclair · 1 month ago

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Ponyboy x Soc!Reader

No use of Y/N, AFAB reader in mind but honestly just imagine whoever, Fluff, More fluff, Ponyboy is very oc

629 words

Your head turned to look at Ponyboy. Your friends were so insistent that all greasers were no good hoodlums and not talk to him, but he was just so dang cute. He was sweet to you once you started up an actual conversation with him, talking about his love of books and writing. You thought it was adorable the way he tried to act tough and nonchalant, but as soon as you gave him any sort of attention his eyes lit up. And that’s how you found yourself here:

You held onto the door handle as Ponyboy took another sharp turn, “I thought you knew how to drive Pony!” Your voice came out as a frantic yell, trying to talk over the wind whipping by the open windows.

“I said I knew how to hotwire NOT that I knew how to drive it!” His foot pressed further into the gas pedal; It was currently past his curfew and Darry was going to skin him when he got home, but your excited laughter made him want to keep going. Sure you two just hotwired a car and were joyriding around at 1am, and sure he was supposed to be the smart one, but who ever said he was boring? (Steve did. All the time. But he won’t mention that to you, you we’re supposed to think he was cool)

“Where did the shy Ponyboy who would never be so sassy with me go! Bring him back!” You softly punched his shoulder jokingly while letting go of the handle. You let yourself relax and lean out the window, smiling as the tree’s pass by in a blur.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Yeah right, I’m not shy,” his voice came out in more of a whine then he intended and a slight red took over the apples of his cheeks and tips of his ears.

Pony’s foot let off the gas pedal, slowing down temporarily to steal another glance at your face. He had been doing that a lot lately; During the classes you two shared where he used to pay attention, he’s been zoning out while totally not staring at you… he’s just been staring near your general direction and occasionally catches his eyes roaming over your face. (Johnny laughs and elbows Pony every time he sees this)

He snaps out of his daze and smiles slightly, you really were a bad influence on him. The banter between you two continued easily and he let his thoughts wander some more; A couple months ago he would never even think about doing this, at least not without someone like Dallas around. Your addictive personality nevertheless sucked him in and he found himself wanting to be more fun for you. His brothers definitely were starting to notice the change; How he spent less and less time around the house, they tried to interrogate Johnny on a few occasions but he was sworn to secrecy, Pony made sure of that.

You looked back at him when you were sure he was done glancing over, not wanting him to see the pink that was dusting your cheeks because gosh why did he have the banter between you two have to feel so right and why was he, a greaser, your, a soc, type. You couldn’t help the next words from spilling out of your mouth, it was now or never.

“Y’know, I really like you.”

“Huh”

You both flung forward as Ponyboy slammed on the brakes while facing you, the blush growing on his face.

“I-”

Blue and red lights accompanied by sirens filled the silence as both of you immediately went from blushing to pale.

“Oh shit” You cursed and sunk into the passenger seat, your parents are going to kill you.

Hi!! This is my first post ever on tumblr and honestly my first time writing for the Outsider's so I hope it's ok! This ended up being really self indulgent and oc but it fulfilled something in me so!

There is a second part to this that I am writing but this was nerve wracking enough so I didn't know if I wanted to put more then 700 words out into the world... Anyways I hope you enjoyed reading <3

#fanfiction #ponyboy x reader #i am so scared to post #ponyboy #the outsiders #fluff #x reader

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darkkitty1208 · 11 months ago

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Sooo. I wrote a thing for @crowleys-creations OC Reggie, who is an absolute sweetheart that I LOVE. I'm referring to both of them. They are wonderful people.

I can't explain to you how much I love Reggie. He is our little guy. I want to show him off.

Reggie is Stephen's partner in Crow's universe. She shared a scenario she thought of of them and I went 'I want to write it' and she consented. So here it is!!!

All dialogue and scenario is made by Crow. Narration and otherwise is my writing :D <3

If you want to know more about Reggie or Crow's strangesona, here is a post of intro sheets for their OCs! They are amazing.

Home

Summary: Reggie visits Stephen's chilhood home, meeting his mother for the first time.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Past Trauma, Domesticity, Idiots in Love, Fluff

Meeting Stephen's mother for the first time is a nerve-wracking experience.

Don't get him wrong, Reggie absolutely adores Stephen's mother. She seems like a lovely woman; and he feels a sense of respect for what he knows she and Stephen has gone through. Most of all, he's grateful of her to have brought Stephen to this world.

He's been keeping himself composed all day, trying to keep the jitters at bay. He's mostly concerned for Stephen, though--checking in with him constantly to see if he's alright, reassuring him with quiet smiles and small touches that he's here, he's always here, and that Stephen isn't alone. He knows what Stephen's gone through. Looking at his childhood home must put a toll on him emotionally.

The evening they spent together had been one of the loveliest times he's had in his life. Laughing at Stephen's childhood photos (there was a particular one where little Stephen was grinning teethily at the camera, a bandaid on his nose where Beverly explained he had gotten after he fell off a bike, and another where he was a teenager, tilting a cowboy hat in such an endearingly Stephen way that Reggie couldn't help but make fun of him for it), looking at Stephen's old room and his old things, visiting the childhood playground Stephen had played in. Everything in his house had a story. Every room, every corner, every doodle or sticker on the wall.

It ignites some sort of longing in him. He wishes he could tell the same stories, recall the same memories, laugh and joke about little stupid things he had done as a child. He couldn't come up with one.

Reggie wants this. He wants this domesticity, this warmth. He wants to feel how family is supposed to be like.

And it's here, as Beverly and him stand in the humble kitchen of their home, Stephen tending to some chores outside, that he feels a small spark of it. Like an old feeling, or a sense of nostalgia, even if he's never been here before. There is familiarity in the way Beverly passes him a plate, the sound of sizzling from the pan, the quiet chatter. He feels like he belongs here.

"Has Stephen met your parents yet?" Beverly asks in between flipping the steak on the pan. Reggie watches as the meat sizzles, turning an appetising brown. "Maybe we can have a big family dinner, all get to know each other." She smiles at that. It looks a little like Stephen's.

Reggie is a little taken aback by the question and the offer that follows. He tries not to let it show, but freezes involuntarily nonetheless. He quickly composes himself with a smile.

"Erm, no. My parents passed when I was young," he says simply. Beverly's eyes widen by a fraction.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry," she says, sounding guilty. "I didn't think-- Stephen didn't say--"

Reggie is quick to reassure. "No, no, it's fine, really, I don't mind," he says, waving it off gently. His smile turns small, genuine, and there's some sadness in it he couldn't help let slip. "I like talking about them. It keeps them alive."

Beverly gives him an unexplainably motherly smile at that. Reggie appreciates it.

She asks questions, then; what do you remember about them? What were they like? Reggie answers all of them happily, recalling what he can. There's something, though, deep in his chest. Pulling, tugging at his emotions. He buries it in favour of keeping their light conversation going.

Stephen's bed has soft covers on them. Reggie is sitting at the edge of it, observing, looking around. His room is small, bookshelves filled to the brim with various books, a simple studying desk at the corner. He has a night lamp that glows a gentle, warm, light, which Reggie smiles at knowing Stephen must've been scared of the dark as a child.

He sighs. He's waiting for Stephen now, getting ready for bed in the bathroom. He hears him brushing his teeth, hears the running water, hears the quiet humming. It's comforting. It feels like home.

The longing resurfaces again, then. It's been there in his chest the whole day. It's welling up inside him now, gripping his chest. He feels it seizing up his throat, feels a growing sting in his eyes. Blinking it away doesn't help, so he focuses on the lines of his hands instead, hoping it would distract him.

He doesn't hear the door click, or Stephen stepping out. He does notice when the bed dips as Stephen's weight settles beside him.

"Hey," Stephen says, looking concerned. Reggie can't help but admire his eyes. "You okay?"

Reggie smiles. It's a pained one, if he must admit. He hopes it doesn't look so.

"Yeah," he says, a little hoarse. He clears his throat. "Yeah, just erm."

Stephen waits as he arranges his words. Reggie feels grateful for that.

"Your mother mentioned having dinner with my parents," he explains, "And I just... remembered that I won't have this. The whole introducing the boyfriend, embarrassing childhood photos, funny stories."

The words feel difficult to get out. But he tries.

"I won't get to have that." That's where he chokes up. He can't help it. Not after keeping it in the entire day. He feels Stephen lay a comforting hand on his back, moving back and forth reassuringly. "Every time I think they've missed everything they could, something happens that makes me wish they could be there." He wipes a rebellious tear that slips down his cheek.

He's been trying to stay strong the entire day. He really has.

Stephen turns to embrace him, wrapping him securely with his arms. It makes him feel a little guilty, when he's meant to be here for Stephen. But he lets him hold Reggie. He lets him stroke his hair. He lets him whisper little nothings in his ear.

He lets his tears flow freely. His gates are down now. And this is Stephen, he doesn't need to hold back. He can be vulnerable. He can trust Stephen.

"When I was a kid I just missed them," he remembers, "then when I was older I realised they didn't get to teach me to ride a bike, or drive or see me graduate or get my first job, but then I figured it was over. They missed all the big milestones but then, I get a medal, then I get promoted, I get my garage up and running, I meet you--" He sobs. "And it just never stops. every big moment in my life is also one of the saddest moments and when your mother asked me about dinner it just brought it all up again, it's not her fault it's just..."

He's spiralling. He cries into Stephen's shoulder. He cries until his chest hurts. Stephen is holding him still, and it feels so, so good to be like this. To know that Stephen loves him. To know that somebody loves him, cares for him, is there for him.

"Shh," Stephen shushes him. "I know, it's okay," He kisses the top of his head, gentle and soft and loving. "I know it's not the same, but I think like that with my father sometimes," he says, "If he had been loving--what we could've had, or every time I have one of those moments, I remember that he isn't there and... that Donna doesn't get to have those."

Stephen holds him tighter. Reggie burrows further, smelling the bit of skin peeking out of Stephen's shirt's collar. It smells like soap and old books and tea and something so utterly Stephen.

God, they're such a mess. Reggie can't help but chuckle a little. Stephen hums back his own bit of laughter.

"We're utter messes, huh?"

"Heh, yeah," Stephen says, and the hand rubbing his back pauses. The weight feels warm, going through the fabric separating it from his skin. "But we're each other's messes."

Reggie's sure Stephen can feel the smile he makes on his skin.

"Always?" he asks.

"Always."

#oc: reggie diaz #ship: soul sorcerer #Scarred defender #my writing #stephen strange #stephen strange x oc

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bookie-bookdust · 3 months ago

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hi, so first of all— massive fan of ur writing. ssfs changed my life. i was never planning to write a story for this game since idk there’s just such a plethora to read already (so many good ones, i’ve cried so many times) but something about the way you characterised sebastian and ur oc just rlly sparked something in my brain. like it scratches an itch i didn’t even know i had.

anyways, all that to say— i found this song while working on my own fic. u may have already seen it, could be in one of your playlists already but it just screamed your particular version of sebastian/mc in my mind. it still inspired a future scene in my fic, but more of a moment rather than his character/their relationship as a whole.

also i promise this isn’t uh content farming(?) not that but i forget the word for it jesus, anyways, my hwl fic isn’t posted, it lives in my google docs and that’s ab it— i just wanted to share this song with you and tell u how inspiring ur writing is- ur world building, ur characterisations, just everything is MWAH.

i’m not caught up on ssfs at the moment bc i took a break from reading fics to avoid overly influencing my own characterisation of the boys/my mc, but i just know i’m going to devour everything you’ve posted once i come back. for now i lurk on tumblr and devour everything u give us here.

this is my first time submitting an ask like ever so sorry if it’s a mess, but thank u for sharing all the beautiful things from ur brain with us n i hope u like the song if u didn’t know it already ♡

(this is so nerve wracking, holy shit okay bye)

OH MY FUCKING GOD THANK YOU SO MUCH THIS IS SO NICE

AJGIELSAGHUSGKAHUFGAEHGUKGHU

That wasn't very eloquent sorry LOL. Truly, this is SO KIND. Thank you so much for reading💙I'm so honored that my writing was able to speak to you and get your brain sparking too. Characterization has always been my favorite bit when it comes to writing, and I've spent years fixating over it. I'm happy it's paying off!!

I feel like I've heard this song in passing somewhere, but I've never sat down to listen to it, and it is SOOOO good. I've already listened to it like four times hahaha. Definitely very SSFS coded - destructive idiots in love.

I hope your writing is going well! Writing is the most fun but somehow also most toilsome miserable passion to have, I swear lololol. And never apologize!!!!!!! You just made my day 🥺😭

Seriously thank you. I appreciate this so so so so much.

#THANK YOU SO MUCHHHHHH AJGIELAGHEUAGKWRUAEKRHGUAEGH

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stxneflxwers · 8 months ago

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fragments of heaven – prelude.

summary. In a scary, mysterious, new universe, they find themself searching for even a little bit of purpose amidst the chaos. The past will haunt them, but the future will guide them, too.

a/n. hi this is nerve-wracking to post. lol. i'm so used to being ashamed of posting OC stuff that this is somehow still difficult even after years of doing it. ANYWAY ive been absolutely fixating on this for ages now – many rewrites later, i think i've found a happy spot! anywho, this is a crossover with my original story/world. i do plan to explain as much as i feasibly and reasonably can about my original story. hopefully it doesn't leave too many people in the dark, ofc. but also you're meant to see this from an HSR perspective anyway lol also, this is more or less co-written with one of my best friends, so her character(s) are featured here! also 2, the first scene in this prologue/chapter is kinda awkward cuz i didnt bother to fix it when i started rewriting,,, oops

characters. aventurine. original character(s).

cw. this is a universe crossover/fusion!!! canon x OC. slavery. implied character death. trauma. (more tags will be added as more chapters are posted)

prologue.

Kakavasha often heard humming throughout the small, dirty prisons lined with slaves like himself. He didn’t know where it was coming from, but it brought uncanny serendipity to his angry emotions for a little while every time. When the humming would eventually stop, the onslaught of vexed emotions and thoughts would return minutes later.

And then, he finally meets the person who hums one day by what feels like a stroke of luck, pure chance. He initially expected to never see the face the voice belongs to. The only visible eye of that person never left his mind – a bright, starry blue with a white pupil and ring in their iris. Their rusty red hair covers their other eye, like they hide it intentionally.

They deliver him his rations for the day, but the plate of food seems larger than usual. They put a finger up to their lips – he needs to stay quiet if he wants it. They slide the plate into his cell and offer him a soft, patient smile.

“I hope you enjoy it, I made it myself.” The fellow slave whispers to him, “Ah… What’s your name… Kakavasha?” They ask as they shut the barred door and straighten their legs as they rise.

“…Yeah.” He nods as he warily takes the plate of food before eating it with slow, small bites. “Oh, wow… This is…really good.” He whispers before shoving a larger portion into his mouth.

“I’m glad you like it.” They nod before hearing heavy footfalls nearby, “I have to go now – may we meet again one day.” They grin before quickly sneaking away, running on the tip of their feet.

Kakavasha watches them run away with deftness and grace, like a dancer. He finishes his food quickly, not wanting to be caught with a bigger, better portion than usual.

It doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter how many times the older slave gets their head beaten into the wall by the slavemaster. Les Esfacier is still standing, regardless of every whip, every cut, every kick and punch. It doesn’t matter how much crimson blood pours from their new wounds, they remain standing – all with a wicked, knowing smirk on their bruise-darkened lips.

“I hope you’re enjoying the show, No.35!” The slaver barks at Kakavasha, who remains firmly tied to a chair nearby. “Because No.8 hasn’t died from a single beating – yet. But I’m more than happy to change that…” He glances at the Avgin with a twisted grin before raising his whip to lash the older teen.

Les Esfacier jumps in before the leather can meet his vulnerable body, causing the whip to crack against their cheek.

“Les Esfacier—!” Kakavasha gasps, his heart dropping into the acidic remains of his gut as he watches another trail of blood form on his fellow slave’s face. With hardly any self-control left to spare, he starts sobbing, yet unable to tear his gaze away from the gruesome sight.

“Why are you still smirking, No.8? Are you getting off on this, huh?!” The slavemaster howls with laughter, his own preconceived notions are pure entertainment.

“I’m smirking because it’s funny how much you struggle to kill me.” Les Esfacier snarks.

“You…!” The slave owner growls before yanking out his pistol, aiming right at the smart-mouthed slave’s head.

“No—!” Kakavasha tries to lurch forward in his chair before he gasps when a warm, golden-white light covers his eyes.

“Shh… It’s okay, little guy, just listen to me, okay?” A soft yet lively voice whispers in his mind as the golden-white glow permeates his vision, it’s almost enough for him to relax. “My name is Summer – I’m Les Esfacier’s friend! I…I’m here to take care of you while they’re asleep! Y-Yeah…!” The feminine voice squeaks, clearly doing her best to reassure the slave.

“...Asleep? That’s the best lie you could come up with?” Kakavasha mentally retorts with a bitter sigh.

“Hey, I’m trying!” He can practically hear the pout in her voice, “But… They aren’t dead, either. They’re just…out of commission!”

“...Right.” He groans, “They…they had to have died… No one can survive a gunshot to the head like that…”

“You’d be surprised. Ma— Les Esfacier is a super-tank!”

“A…super-tank,” He echoes, “You’re weird, Summer… If that is your real name.”

“Hey! Stop doubting me! Please, just believe me when I say they’re fine… They really are just asleep!”

“Whatever…”

That night, the moon is in its first quarter – its silver glow peeks through the small, barred window above him, filling the cell he sits in. He curls up in the shadows, though, a dark place where he wishes he could hide for eternity. He didn’t want the moon to shed light on the guilt that eats away at him, all the way to the core.

But, perhaps now is the time for action, as the moon foretells.

“Hey, little guy… You asleep yet?”

It’s that voice again, and now there’s a body made of the same golden-white light accompanying it. The figure is petite and curvy. But he couldn’t bring himself to care about any of that – it’s the least of his problems right now, or so he tells himself.

“No,” He grumbles tiredly, “How could I be? After everything…”

“It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“How can you promise something as ridiculous as that?” He sighs, he couldn’t help it anymore. He needed such a deep, heavy breath that’s been pent up to finally leave his system.

It wasn’t as relieving as he hoped it would be.

“Because I know! Trust me, okay?”

She’s so argumentative, he thinks, and at this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if he’s truly gone off the rails.

“...Whatever.”

The figure sits down in the heart of the moon’s glow on the floor, and she opens her arms to him.

“Come here! Sit on my lap. It’ll be cold tonight, like always. I’ll keep you warm.”

“Are you kidding me?” He grumbles, but upon getting no response from her, he takes it as a sign that she’s serious about it. “...Fine.” But only this once, he thinks.

With her legs crossed, she holds onto him in her lap with tender grace that only a mother knows.

Kakavasha jolts awake in Summer’s arms as the desert sun slowly rises, but he’s quick to sigh and write off his own alarm as a small nightmare he can’t recall. He looks up at the spirit that held him all night, her eyes closed and her body still as a serene statue. He briefly wonders if this is what it’s really like to be cared for by a mother. However, he quickly shrugs this thought off – knowing that there’s no hope in finding solace in the deceased.

“Awake so early, huh?” Summer murmurs; her eyes flitting open, staring down at him with a soft smile.

“...Yeah,” He rolls out of her arms before stretching his arms high above his head and his legs straight out, “Thanks… For, uhm, last night.”

“No problem, little guy!” She chirps, watching him closely. Her energy and joy are damn near infectious, but he wouldn’t dare dream of giving himself the chance to feel the same pleasures. “Hey, I have a gift for you.” She informs casually, there are sparkles of excitement dancing in her dark eyes.

“...A gift?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck, “You really don’t have to—”

“Well, I don’t care if I don’t have to, because I want to.” She nods before a gold coin with a triquetra engraved in it manifests in her hand, “Here, catch!” She tosses it to him.

He catches it despite the fumbling, he looks down at it and blinks slowly, “A gold coin? Well, at least it doesn’t look like a damn Tanba…”

“My gramps made it! And it was the last one to ever be minted by him. I really want you to have it, little guy. Think of it as a parting gift and a reminder!”

“...A reminder of what?” He asks with deliberate slowness.

“That there’s always love and kindness looking for you and that it’ll find you eventually, sooner or later. So, don’t give up on those things, or ever give up on anything! Also…”

“Also…?”

“Should we ever meet again,” She clasps her hands around his own hand that holds the coin, “Show me the coin, and I’ll know exactly who you are.” She grins, “You can do this, m’kay?”

With that said, she vanishes. And he doesn’t know if it’ll be for now or forever. He clutches the coin tightly in his hand, her lingering warmth setting a fire ablaze in his heart – a unique determination.

#🌠— my works #✨— fragments of heaven #🌠— ocs #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr oc #honkai star rail oc #aventurine

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 2 years ago

Text

Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

Summary: Din let's out a little more than he should

A/N: Hello lovelies,

Well hello gorgeous people, I'm posting this earlier than usual because I'm going to get my hair did and then I'm busy. Last day of vacation before I go back to work on Monday. Unfortunately, I didn't get as far with my writing as I wanted to during my vacation. Mainly because I was enjoying reading, sleeping and chilling way too much. But it's all good, because things are brewing in this head of mine.

Hope everyone has an amazing first 2024 weekend.

Love oo

Due to the past history of the OC there will be discussions alluding to past domestic abuse, please note that as it could be a trigger for some.

Warnings: tension, accusation of using someone, dealing with anxiety, misdirected anger, I think that's about it, if I miss any warnings please let me know.

AO3 Link | Words: 1,094 | Previous -> Next

Main Master List | Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

THE CRESTWORLD

CHAPTER TWO

My eyes glanced over Din one more time before I turned back to focus on Gorgu.

Truthfully, I’d been surprised when he agreed to leave Grogu and I here, especially since it hadn’t even been a month since I joined them.

However, he reminded me that a neighbour, a good one, was the difference between life and death out here in God’s country. It was a phrasing Din made sure to repeat at least twice a day since I joined him on the ranch, to help me realize and understand why having neighbours you could count on made all the difference. Seeing him willing to take off and help his neighbour simply reinforced his strong sentiment.

Kuiil no doubt appreciated the help from Din, especially when he almost lost his livelihood, because his flock of sheep took off, it was something that could’ve been detrimental to him.

I understood why he had to leave, but seeing as I was still new in taking care of his own livestock, granted it was only two horses, a nerf and nunas, it was still nerve wracking to be responsible to look after them. Din was gracious enough to write out detailed instructions on what needed to be done during the time he was away, which eased my anxiety somewhat, and really he wasn’t in the mood to have a tete-a-tete when he gave me the instructions, he was too annoyed and upset to discuss if he should or shouldn’t leave.

There was not much to discuss anyways when he still had that same attitude, I ignored his comment about Grogu’s lunch and paid attention to the adorable child eating his pancakes.

“That’s no fun, right Grogu? Having the same lunch twice in a row?”

“Yup, Annie”

He wasn’t exactly comfortable around me, despite the amount of time we had spent together, but he was slowly opening up. He stopped hiding behind his father whenever he saw me, which was a huge step forward. He even liked it when I sat beside him during meal times. However, during the two days Din was away, I did notice he started to answer my questions more, which I believe was slowly helping us to grow more comfortable around each other.

“Okay, how about …” I looked in the fridge quickly, “how about a grilled cheese with veggies and fruits for tomorrow? Sounds good?” I asked as I took a seat beside him, eating my breakfast, as well.

He simply nodded as he ate his pancake, humming contentedly as we both danced while we ate, it wasn’t the best etiquette to have at the kitchen table, but if it allowed him to open up more to me and feel more comfortable, I was willing to do the little things I could.

“You don’t have to do that.”

Din’s miserable voice washed over them, as his eyes glanced from Grogu to Ann overtop his mug. He didn’t know why but something about her was starting to irritate him, or maybe it was just the exhaustion he felt from helping Kuiil round up his wayward sheep that was making her more irritable than usual. Either way, he wasn’t in the mood for her happy persona or the fact she somehow grew closer to Grogu while he was away.

“Do what?”

I asked as I finished my tea and breakfast. I grabbed the empty plates and took them to the sink. He still hadn’t answered my question, as I packed up Grogu’s lunch that I made the previous night. I double checked Grogu’s backpack as I put his lunch bag inside, making sure he had everything ready for class, “Grogu, where’s your homework?”

“Grogu, get your homework” Din stated as he motioned with his head for his son to leave. His annoyance was at an all time high and he wasn’t able to hold back any longer.

“Patu?” Grogu tilted his head as he shrunk back a little into himself. He knew his father could have a temper, though it was rarely seen, but somehow Grogu felt he may have done something wrong.

Din noticed Grogu’s reaction, he leaned over and ruffled Grogu’s hair, and cupped his son’s cheek reaffirming that he was fine. He gave him a subtle smile, “It’s alright buddy, just get your stuff.”

He watched as Grogu nodded and headed off, leaving him and Ann alone in the kitchen. There was something he needed to make very clear with her, and he didn’t want his son having to listen in to this particular conversation. As soon as Grogu was out of ear shot, he took the opportunity focusing his glare at Ann.

“Listen, I’m going to say this once and only once. I appreciate your help Ann. I’ll admit since you joined things have been going smoother, and I appreciate that you stepped up when I had to be away, but there’s something you need to keep in mind”

Silence filled the kitchen as I looked at him, there was something about the way he was keeping himself constrained that made me get my back up. I’m not sure what exactly triggered him or made him so irritable, but I felt as though I just walked through a minefield. Somehow, I was very close to setting him off, the wrong word or question and it seemed as if his self-control would evaporate. I took a deep breath and pushed away my nerves. Keeping my voice steady as I locked eyes with him.

“What’s that?”

“You’re. Not. His. Mother.”

Din’s voice was laced with warning as his hand clenched around his fork, “You’re here to help, got that! So don’t use my son to try and get close to me. Understood!”

As soon as those last words left his mouth, he saw how taken aback she was, and for a split second, he could have sworn there was a look of utter pain and disgust across her face.

My hands clenched around Grogu’s backpack, it took all of my strength, all of my patience, every last ounce within me, not to recoil or run away. For the first time since my ex, I actually wanted to yell at someone for saying something stupid and accusing me with an ulterior motive. In my head, I screamed, ‘WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING!’ But at this point, it wouldn’t have helped either of us. I took a moment, closed my eyes, took a deep breath and counted to ten to steady my nerves and quell the beginnings of anger in my heart.

AO3 Link | Words: 1,094 | Previous -> Next

Main Master List | Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

@littlemisspascal@sprout-fics@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24 @spicymcnuggies @lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @tortor-mcgee @sarcasmismyonlydefense24 @chiyo13

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harryandpedro · 5 months ago

Text

uppercut - twelve

summary: Maisy is anxious because of a doctor's appointment, Pedro offers solace.

parings: boxer/singledad!pedro x nanny!fem oc

warnings: twelve-year age gap, Pedro is extremely soft and sweet as always, some would say boyfriend material even, fem!mc is given a special term of endearment, emotional hurt/comfort

wc: 2.7k

series masterlist here

Maisy

In my mind, the end of July marks a turning point in my post-graduate life.

I turn down the internship I have lined up for September and feel ten times lighter.

I check for job postings occasionally, but only for jobs I really think I might like now. Other data scientist or researcher positions at companies I'm at least interested in.

A few days later, I come across a social researcher job at an NGO.

I almost text Pedro, but something holds me back. It seems too good to be true. There will probably be dozens of applications, and there's no point in getting my hopes up before I've even secured an interview.

Still, I email them my cover letter and résumé, and check my email obsessively for the rest of the day.

As for the other areas of my adult life, I finally work up the courage to make an appointment for a routine check-up at gynaecologist. I have never gone to the gynaecologist, so as for a lot of things life experience related, I feel ashamed for putting it off for this long.

I mark down the day and time for the appointment in my phone calendar and pretend to forget about it.

×××

When the actual day of my gynaecologist appointment comes, I’m a ball of nerves.

I hide the better part of the time I have before I have to leave in my room.

I’m being overdramatic, I know.

“It’s just an appointment,” I remind myself, “A routine check-up. They do it every day. I’m just one of the hundreds of women at their clinic.”

I shake out my limbs to rid myself of the nervous jitters.

My hands are shaking. This is not normal; having a doctor’s appointment affect my day and mood so severely.

I can’t rationalize why the mere thought of going to my gynaecologist appointment is making it hard to breathe. Though it certainly has something to do with the fact that this is going to be my first time getting an examination like that. Where I have to strip naked, or at least from the waist down.

A shudder wracks my body and I bolt downstairs, into the living space, where I find Pedro on his hands and knees with Oliver on his back, riding him like a pony.

Pedro makes a neiging sound and Oliver lets out the sweetest peal of laughter.

It is the kind of moment that sticks in your mind like glue, a core memory of an innocent child without an ounce of stress or worry on his shoulders. He’s free. He’s living. He’s happy. And Pedro is the reason.

My heart pinches.

The image before me, Pedro’s portrayed tenderness fills me with something so warm and safe that I find the courage to go seek him out.

He must see something in my expression, because he helps Oliver off his back and sits criss-crossed.

He doesn’t say anything as I walk towards them, simply leans back on his palms, taking me in.

I plop down onto the floorboards and pull my knees to my chest.

He frowns almost immediately. He squints into my face before he asks, “What’s bothering you?”

His tone is serene, not accusatory in the least, but it still surprises me that he notices so effortlessly.

I look down at my hands, slightly embarrassed by what I’m about to expose. I’m pretty certain that it isn’t an usual preoccupation. I can’t imagine any of the women in Pedro’s life has come to him with anything like this before me.

Really, it’s just an appointment at the clinic. I understand the necessity of it. And I’m aware that I should be grateful for having access to health care. Still, it doesn’t make the concept of it any more appealing.

I clear my throat, raising my eyes to his. Worry is laced into his expression.

“I’m honestly really not looking forward to today’s appointment.” It comes out rushed, and I avert my gaze after the last word has been said.

I checked in with him about the date and Pedro has cleared his afternoon to look after his son so I could go.

He studies me for a moment before responding. “What about it is getting you so wound up?”

I shrug. I suppose he knows what it entails, though I’m not sure myself. I’m still not sexually active per se, so do they examine me the way they would someone who is?

“I, uh—I don’t like the idea of letting people see me down there,” I say past the lump clogging my throat. “And touching me.”

The words are honest and vulnerable in a way that hurts to say them.

His entire face shifts into a softness that feels undeserved, and his expression morphs with understanding.

“I know it isn’t the most desirable,” he starts.

“No, it really isn’t. I’m sort of afraid.”

He reaches over and covers my trembling hands with his own. “What about it scares you? Being naked?”

Calmness spreads through my body starting from where his hand rests on mine.

“I don’t know. Partly, I guess.”

“Are you seeing a woman or a man doctor?”

“It’s a woman, so there’s that,” I mumble dryly. It’s not exactly a consolation.

The floorboards creak as he slides closer to me, his son playing contently a few feet away.

“Why is womanhood so awkward and uncomfortable sometimes?” I ask to no one in particular, on the verge of tears.

“I’m not saying pelvic exams are a pleasant feeling, but they aren’t awkward. They’re normal, and I don’t think it’ll take a long time.” When I don’t react, Pedro gives me a sympathetic smile and offers, “Nothing bad will happen. I’m sure the doctor will be gentle, and will stop if anything gets overwhelming for you.”

I nod my head, dropping my gaze to our intertwined hands in my lap.

“I’ll go with you, if you want me to,” he tells me then and he sounds so definitive that I feel a small fraction of my fear slip away.

The idea of having him wait with me before the appointment, and to have him waiting for me once it’s over, it soothes me. “Yeah, I think I’d like that,” I say in a small voice.

He nods. “Okay, I’ll go with you then,” he replies in a heartbeat.

A part of me thinks it’s pathetic; needing his comfort in this way. And yet, he looks so glad to be able to give it, that it stings less.

“But we have to take Oliver with us,” he adds, elbowing my side jokingly. “His nanny asked for the day off, she has a doctor’s appointment apparently.”

A laugh slips me for the first time today and even for a tiny bit, I feel better about the examination.

×××

The emotional respite is short-lived because as soon as we’re pulling out from his underground garage, all of Pedro’s consolations lose their effect. He puts on music on the drive over, but I’m too checked out. Sensing my increasing unease, he rests a warm, oversized palm on my knee and starts rubbing his thumb in circles.

“You’ll be in and out in a blink of an eye,” he assures me in a quiet, honeyed voice.

I swallow, my gaze dropping to where he’s touching me. If I were in another headspace, I’d find the imaginary extremely hot. Right now my mind is far too clouded to care. I just focus on the predictable circles his thumb is drawing on my kneecap.

In the tastefully decorated waiting room, we sit side-by-side wordlessly, and his hand finds my knee once again. Oliver is busy flipping through a picture book Pedro brought along.

Around us, several women with baby bumps in different sizes wait as well. A few men, presumably their boyfriends or husbands, keep them company. I faintly wonder if they see Pedro and I as a couple.

The dreadful moment comes, my name is called.

I look at Pedro, for what exactly I do not know. Reassurance? Consolation? Probably both.

I wish I wouldn’t need his assistance but I’m grateful that he seems happy to give it.

With just a simple look—eyes warm and bottomless—it’s as if he’s promising everything will be okay. I nod at him, once, twice, steel myself and follow after the nurse.

Once in the examination room, everything happens in a blur. The nurse takes my blood pressure and my weight, and asks me some intake questions. Then I’m left to change into a paper gown.

I fold my underwear inside the sundress I came in, and hop onto the leathered bench, my feet dangling off the edge. I pretend I don’t see the stir-ups.

My doctor is entering the room in minutes time. She introduces herself but my brain glosses over her name. She goes over the intake questions with me once again, asks about my cycle in general, whether I’m sexually active or not. Avoiding her eyes, I tell her that I’m yet to have sex. She notes it down, but doesn’t make any comment.

Contrary to my expectation, the doctor doesn’t rush things. She explains what the examination will detail using a diagram to illustrate each step, even going as far as showing me what instruments she’ll use. She tells me she’ll do a pelvic exam using just her fingers and then the smear test.

The demonstration clears up some of my worries, and I feel myself loosen just a bit.

The next moment though, I’m asked to recline.

My ears start to ring.

She instructs me to bend my knees and put my feet together so my legs are in a butterfly position. I’m forever indebted to her for not using the stir-ups.

She puts on surgical gloves and I notice myself tensing up, which I know is not ideal.

She rolls over on her chair, lifting my gown. Setting my jaw, I bore into the ceiling, my hands fidgeting on my stomach as I brace myself.

The whole examination happens so fast. It’s relatively painless, more uncomfortable than anything, though it has to be said, it’s—even if remotely—awkward.

Afterwards, she gives me a wipe to clean myself and says she’ll call with the results of the smear test but otherwise I’m healthy, before exiting the room.

I re-dress in a daze, the aftershocks of my nerves jitters running through my body. To calm myself, I repeat positive affirmations in my head. Anything to gaslight myself that it was a totally normal and not at all awkward situation.

Having Pedro waiting for me outside makes the whole ordeal a hundred times more bearable. As I step into the waiting room, fragile and vulnerable, he springs to his feet at my sight, picks up Oliver and leads me outside by my hand.

He straps Oliver in then turns to me with eyes so tender it makes me crack. My reaction is uncalled for, but something about his willingness to take care of me throws me. I need him, and he's here, I realize. Fully, not with caveats or stipulations.

My eyes well up and my shoulders cave in on me.

He pulls me in for a bear-hug then and murmurs into my hair, “You were so brave, my pretty girl.”

Hearing those few words strung together in a sentence does something irreversible to my brain chemistry.

A single teardrop escapes my waterline. He attentively wipes it away and kisses the top of my head.

Today, he’s broken our rules on many accounts, and I think I don’t want him to enforce them tomorrow.

He insists we get gelato from an authentic Italian restaurant, but when we get there I’m treated to a three course dinner and gelato.

Apparently while I was in for my examination, he called the owner of the restaurant to get us a table. And he didn’t just get us a table, he managed to get us a spot at the back, where it’s more private.

We enjoy a languid early dinner. The service is incredible, and the owner comes by to greet Pedro. They exchange pleasantries and I’m once again floored by how kind and charismatic he is.

Pedro sits opposite me and spoon-feeds his son while simultaneously listening to my musings on how and why I think obstetrics and gynaecology became a male-dominated field.

I get carried away and ramble on a little too passionately and a little too long about how I think the over-mediclaization of pregnancy and birth is a byproduct of modernization and technocracy and that because of it women, or at least a big portion of the female population is rubbed off expereincing what it truly means to be in sync with their bodies.

He mostly agrees with my argument, tries to understand those points I make that he’s initially not so sure about. We agree that how our healthcare system treats women in labour is more for the comfort of the attending doctor rather than the woman in labour.

After my detour, he opens up about single-dad life. He tells me about the less glamorous parts of newborn life, and he doesn’t spare the gory details. He recalls several occasions when Oliver puked on him. Then, he rehashes how Oliver peed all over the walls that one time while he was changing his diaper.

When our laughing settles, something switches. “So yeah, lots of debacles,” he mumbles, staring at the glass in his hands before taking a small sip. “No but honestly, it was rough, our first months together.” He falls silent, his jaw working like he is chewing on the words he isn’t sure how to say.

“I’m sorry,” he shakes his head, “It’s just—.“ When his eyes slide back up to meet mine, they are laced with sorrow, with a vulnerability that nearly makes me choke on the bite I half-swallowed. “You have no idea how hard this has all been for me.”

He doesn’t have to elaborate on what he means. It is written in every line of his face.

This man has been battling being a single father, on top of a high-performance athlete, all while flipping through a catalogue of sorry excuses for nannies who only added to his stress.

My bet is he is wondering how long I’d last, wondering how long he could count on me before he’d be back to square one.

“I’m sorry it’s been hard,” I offer quietly. “But… I hope I could make it a bit easier these past weeks.”

He gives a small smile. “Trust me, you have.”

We finish the rest of the meal in companionable silence, and it isn’t after we put our gelato orders in that I speak.

“Do you ever think about the moments you missed when he was a newborn?” I ask, setting my fork down. “Like his first smile, the newborn scrunch?”

He consults the tablecloth before answering.

“I think for me it’s the part I missed before he was here with us on earth,” he says, my knitted brows urging him on. “I didn’t get to experience the whole pregnancy thing. I think if I got a go at it, I’d be one of those awfully overprotective dad-to-bes.”

Imagining him doting on his heavily pregnant girlfriend/wife, buying all those unnecessary pregnancy products just so she has the option to use them, talking to his unborn child and sponging kisses against the spot where they kick their mother—it twists something in me that I can’t identify. Maybe disappointment, that I wouldn’t be the one to experience those things with him, possibly envy for the woman who might. Most likely a bit of both.

“I can kind of picture you that way. You seem that type of a man,” I mumble, my voice small and hesitant.

“Yeah, I really think I’d be one of those guys,” he concludes with a slow smile and then our gelato arrives.

#pedro pascal fanfiction #dad!pedro #soft!pedro #boxer!pedro #dbf!pedro #boxer!pedro x fem!oc #pedropascalau #emotional hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort

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ja0-s-blank-canvas-fic · 9 months ago

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Part 4 - Chapter 1 - Alma Mater Takedown

Blank Canvas Part 4

AO3 - here

Fanfiction.net - here

Hi! Hello! How are you? It's been a hot minute, eh? Thank you for your patience with my hiatus. I have a more comfortable buffer of chapters so it's time to start posting again!

As said above, I'm going to aim for monthly updates starting with part 4. You can't rush creativity! And I think I have enough good fluff and angst to appease you as we go forward.

Part 3 ended with Izuku and Katsuki successfully rescued from the League of Villains. But Izuku learned more than he had bargained for during the kidnapping. All For One was his father and wanted him to become a Villain. A horrifying realization made incredibly awkward now that Izuku possesses One For All on top of his family drama. Despite all of that, he still aims to become a Hero who fights Quirkless.

On the fluff side of all the angst, Izuku and Shouto have finally kissed. Now I'm a sucker for mushy fluff so we have officially broken that barrier. I don't necessarily know how far I will go in regards to mature/explicit content. -i do read smut myself but i'm human so sue me- Whatever happens, for those who aren't here for that, I'll note when those moments are so you can skip them. Other than that, I'm just letting the story flow.

More serious stuff, DO NOT REPOST ANY part of BC. I post on fanfiction.net and ao3. The only ones with permission are on my linktree and any that aren't do not have my consent. That goes for other fanfiction websites and youtube and really any other site you can post fanfiction. If you find them, please let me know so I can report them. Please and thank you!

Now, let's get to it! :D

Linktree to all the things!

End notes for the chapter are under the line.

And that is my take down of Aldera! This is as much as I'm going into them facing consequences. Anything else regards to a trial and sentencing I'll let you guys fantasize on your own. There are more important plot points for me to focus on but hey! Aldera be facing consequences. You can see my post on the OC on the tumblr here.

Fun Facts About Japan:

Not sure if I covered this before or not, but putting it here anyway. The Japan school structure has them in a trimester time table instead of the two term semester system in the US.

First term - April to July Summer break - end of July to early September Second term - September to December Winter break - end of December to about mid January Third term - January to March Spring break - end of march to early April

Basically a lot more schooling that US kiddos go through. Even during the breaks. For summer break specifically, students still come to school despite it being a break. The reason why is club activities. Students still have club duties to complete and so will come to school to do them. From art club, chorus, and even sports clubs, they will come in the heat of summer to do those duties whatever they may be.

This is also the time with English contest applicants work with their teachers and ALTs to practice and help perfect their speeches. When I first arrived through the JET program, it was at the end of July and our first tasks was helping those students. A bit nerve-wracking when first starting out in a foreign country that was for sure. XD Yes, I am a native English speaker and therefore considered an 'expert' but that did not make me an expert at teaching English.

That came with experience and learning how Japanese people approached English as well. I met a wide range of students who either would work super hard to have a natural accent or they would rely on sounding it out in what I called Katakana English. Which is them using the sounds of the Japanese alphabet to form the words instead of the actual English pronunciation. That was a constant thing we had to work on. Either way, the students did always try their best and I'm proud of them all. ^____^

That's it for this chapter but not all I have for you! With this gift of angst I'm also giving you a gift of fluff with a double update for starting posting again! So sit back, relax, and chapter 2 will be coming your way soon! Ta! -runs off to edit

#mha #bnha #quirkless au #fanfic #blankcanvasfic #mha nezu #aizawa shouta #tsukauchi naomasa #blankcanvasOC

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thenopequeen · 1 year ago

Note

I like your designs, can you tell us more about your ocs?

Given my lack of sleep, this may not be particularly coherent. Bear with me

Isnene the Swift is my Nerevarine, who was originally named by cleaning up a keysmash and became a character in her own right when I poured on the lore and forgot to say when. I knew very little about Morrowind when I first played her, so I just kept seeing cool new things and adding them

Isnene is the granddaughter of Barenziah's child that (in my universe) Talos failed to kill, meaning she is also a dragonborn, and that the Blades have a standing order to eliminate her and any of her family they find. This makes the beginning of the game incredibly nerve-wracking for her. She is also descended from House Dagoth, maybe even Voryn himself, on the other side of the family. Girly got ISSUES.

She grew up as a street thief on the Anvil dockside, and was arrested for Thieves Guild crimes before being deported to Morrowind at the start of the game. She fights with a spear and mostly restoration and alteration spells, as well as a bunch of potions and enchanted gear. She joined House Hlaalu out of a "keep your friends close and your enemies closer" mentality, and also joined the Thieves Guild and Mages Guild. (I'm definitely not still salty that the Twin Lamps didn't get a whole faction and questline. Not at all)

She is actually Nerevar reborn, and when she is sent to Kogrohun to prove herself, she follows the path that she doesn't know how she knows, all the way up to Dagoth Ur. As soon as she steps into the Heart Antichamber, all his memories come back. Which. Is. Traumatic. So she runs away to Solstheim to process everything. And then has to deal with werewolves n shit. And then before she finishes getting named Hortator and Nerevarine by everybody, she goes to Mournhold to figure out the whole assassin thing. And it's only a week or two really before she is face to face with HIS WIFE. More. Emotional. Damage. So she is so very sad and haunted by the time she goes up mountain, but also happy because it's almost over. And when she collapses beside the Heart, she doesn't even try to ward off the figure looming over her as her vision goes black. And then she wakes up at her marked location, with her hand closed around her recall amulet, with cuts across the backs of her fingers like too long clawed hands. Like forgiveness.

Sorry if I got too rambley, it's a quarter to eight in the morning and I haven't more than dozed a bit all night

Here's a character sheet I filled out using this post

Sick-ass art by @azures-grace

And another one from this

#a rambling nope appears #isnene the swift #morrowind #my nerevarine

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wonlouvre · 4 years ago

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pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc

genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff

word count: 2.2k

WARNINGS: none (pls tell me if there’s anything i missed!)

a/n: THEIR LOVE STORY CONTINUES AND YOU WILL FIND OUT ON MY NEXT POST! i will say this over and over again, THANK YOU WITH ALL MY HEART!

epilogue | masterlist

The trial of your father was not something you have ever imagined you would experience nor witness in this lifetime. Despite having the option to not go, you still attended. You weren’t present at the court itself though. Instead you waited at the parking lot with Jeongyeon everyday from the first day up to the last day. The judge’s verdict was obvious and irrevocable. Your father’s ancestry, title and reputation didn’t matter in the eyes of justice. At some point, you couldn’t accept it still but eventually you knew that every wrong must be corrected.

You can say that the wounds from this inevitable downfall burned the most than the wounds inflicted by the enemy.

Wonwoo was at your apartment when you arrived after the long hours of waiting. He just finished showering, drying his hair with a clean towel when he greeted you. After getting discharged from the hospital, he didn’t fail to visit your place and most times, he would stay the night. That’s why it’s natural and comforting to see him lounge around as if he has been living with you from the get go.

He already knows how the trial went because it was everywhere. He catches you with his arms once your bag is dropped on the couch and the tears you have been holding back start to fall. It’s not easy to cry every second, every minute and every hour. It’s not easy to accept that your tears are not enough. Not enough to help your father without damaging everything else further.

Your face was buried on the crook of your lover’s neck as you finally let it all out. He holds you there for a while before he moves the two of you to the couch and keeps you close by letting you take a seat on his lap.

You love your father so much but it is only right and only just to let this Kingdom punish him for the crimes he committed against the people he swore honesty and protection to.

The exhaustion made you fall asleep and Wonwoo left you be until he had to wake you because he doesn’t want you to skip your meal. After munching on a few bites, he led you to the bathroom for a warm bath, sitting on the cold tiled floor as he took care of you. And in the late evening, he held you close as you retired from the pain of the day.

Wonwoo is a gift and he makes every single day a little better.

You and Wonwoo decided to tie the knot three years later than what was initially arranged. It just felt right at the time to postpone the wedding and do what should be done. The Prince can tell that your heart and mind was not set on marriage yet because of what was currently happening. He was the one who brought it up, suggesting a postponement if you needed the time to think and of course, to wait. He didn’t mind because he’s one hundred percent sure that he is yours and it wasn’t necessary to immediately hold a wedding to seal the deal.

Three years of waiting wasn’t the timeline you intentionally planned on but if one were to count, that’s how long the two of you endured. The plan to have a grand wedding was scrapped and essentially, you two were back to zero. The venue, decorations, menu and even the custom made wedding dress and tuxedo were either auctioned or donated. It was a unanimous decision among you, him, your mother and his parents. It was for the better and taking things slow in your relationship was much needed anyway.

On the subject of parents, Wonwoo’s, for a period of time, were uneasy with your relationship. It was not because of you and what your father did. Their Majesties were wise enough to not hold anything against you and who you are. What made them uneasy was the people and their talking. If some were still loyal and supported and rooted for you, some were the exact opposite. The tabloids were cruel as well and you didn’t miss them displayed in every newsstand. They still gossiped about your father and even talked about the most irrelevant nonsense. Like come on, who cares about you wearing an orange jacket on a normal Sunday?

But the major stumbling block for them was your recommendation to abolish the Royal Family of your Kingdom.

You have pondered about it for quite a while and when you have made your decision, you discussed it with the rest of your relatives. As the times have changed, reigning as the sole power of the kingdom didn’t appeal to your family anymore. Some of your father’s siblings and cousins have discussed this already even before your father himself inherited the throne. It just so happened that the then cabinet members strongly opposed the idea. However this time, things will be different for and with you.

By right, you are the Queen of the Kingdom and it won’t be for much longer.

It was a long and exhausting process. You had to meet with the Cabinet and the policy making body of the Kingdom. For a whole year, you were lobbying and arguing with a lot of individuals who have their own greedy political agendas. However, for the same whole year, the people were supportive of your decision and goal. That pushed you forward and motivated you to not give up. It paid off because in the end, you stepped down as the last Queen to ever reign in your family and ultimately, the Kingdom.

Countless aspiring public servants stole the spotlight the following year as the campaign season started. Some still encouraged you to hold a position to which you declined immediately. It was a tight competition because every candidate had the potential. The people were smarter and at the same time stronger. They knew who they wanted and needed to lead the Kingdom. No flowery words could ever sway them.

Power to the people indeed.

You were present to the formulation and enactment of the new laws that will hopefully make the Kingdom and its citizens flourish without the presence of abuse of power and dishonesty. Once you finally signed the last piece of document as the Queen, the Kingdom is not yours anymore and you have never felt so free.

During the (unintentional) three year wait, you and Wonwoo made the most out of your time as boyfriend and girlfriend, fiancé and fiancée. Well, the engagement ring wasn’t returned to you so you’re quite unsure about the status of the latter. You didn’t lose it though. Wonwoo admitted on one of your dates that it’s with him and that he’ll eventually give it back.

Wonwoo stayed and continued working at the Royal Hospital meanwhile you decided to leave your current law firm and establish a new one to serve the public. It was a busy year of transition and you felt bad that you dragged Wonwoo into it. Even though he promised that he didn’t mind, you still can’t help but feel terrible that he’s carrying a whole lot of baggage that isn’t his.

He will just shush you with a kiss on the lips whenever you bring it up and you hate how he makes it work.

For most of the time, you were awfully busy, you had to bring work back to your apartment. Wonwoo would always complain with his forehead on your shoulder as you worked away on your desk. He would complain that it’s already late and you should be snuggled to him by then and you would just scratch the back of his neck to placate him. To which, he didn’t like. He didn’t stop until you shut down your laptop and let him pull you to bed.

Wonwoo diligently went back and forth to his hometown and here. He could go back and work at his Kingdom, but not without you. He made it clear that he has every intention of marrying you, so until then, he’d stay by your side. You love every single bit of time you spent with him and you’re beyond grateful. Although there was one instance you had to take care of him because he got sick, that didn’t make him stop.

The two of you went to a lot of dates despite the busy and overlapping schedules. Most of your dates consisted of long drives far from the city. You frequent farms, beachsides and small hidden cafes with little to none customers. It was great and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

It’s Wonwoo, after all.

Eventually, you had to visit his parents and introduce yourself in a whole new and different perspective. It was nerve wracking, but their Majesties never changed. In fact, almost everyone at their Kingdom still treated and served you like royalty to which you vehemently refused. Nonetheless, their Majesties still gave their utmost blessing and support to your relationship and if anything, they hope to see you get married soon.

Wonwoo requested to meet your father at some point. At first, you were confused as to why but when he told you that he wanted to do things right, you couldn’t say no.

You had to admit, you were embarrassed. However, you swallowed your pride because it’s pointless to keep concealing yourself from Wonwoo. He has accepted and loved you in every way and every form already, all you have to do is bare yourself to him.

The meeting and conversation you shared with your father was short-lived because of the time limit. In spite of that, it was good to see him and you’re happy Wonwoo took the initiative to visit him. It has already been two years since he got imprisoned and even though you couldn’t visit him every day, your father never held it against you. He was ecstatic to see Wonwoo and the news of your wedding still on, made him burst into a joyful laughter.

It still pained you to see him on the other side of the glass. It still pained you to not hug or touch his hand at least. But you keep yourself together and remember the purpose as to why your father had to go through this.

Your father never failed to tell you his regrets and apologies, but most importantly, he never failed to tell you how proud he is and that he loves you very much so.

You will never become a queen anymore, but Wonwoo vowed that you will be of his heart. He found it cringey himself, but he told you he had to say it in front of everyone present at your wedding. You just laughed it off because you know he’s not saying it out of spite.

The wedding happened at his mother’s garden with only close family and friends invited. Your father couldn’t make it even if he wanted to, but it was alright because you promised you’ll send lots of pictures afterwards. Some of your relatives made it, Jeongyeon and Seungkwan were also there. Meanwhile, all of Wonwoo’s relatives made it and of course his best friends Soonyoung, Jihoon and Jun (whom you met along the way) were also present.

It was a short ceremony that didn’t last more than three hours. It started late in the morning and ended early in the afternoon. The two of you, hand in hand and all smiles, did your best to mingle with every guest and thank them for their time and attendance after finally sealing everything with a long kiss and of course, legal documents.

There was no afterparty held after lunch was served, you and Wonwoo wanting the rest of the day to yourselves. A traditional program sounded lovely, but the two of you wanted to be simple.

The wedding was three years long in the making and in between, it almost didn’t happen. The beginning was vague because it started off as an arranged union. You didn’t know him, he didn’t know you. The middle was everything you wanted, full of love and security. You were so sure and so ready, just waiting for the dress and everything was set. However before the happy ending, shortcomings and bad deeds needed to be resolved and by doing so, one of you almost had to sacrifice the middle that you were ready to have forever.

But when Wonwoo buried his face in the space between your jaw and neck and his arms found its way around your waist, you realized that everything that had to happen was worth it. In the middle of the garden where the two of you stood alone, swaying from side to side, you realized and accepted that it was all worth it.

Your fingers ran through the hairs of your husband’s hair and he hummed at the sensation. You smiled at the vibration and continued holding him. If you were to tell one of the sentiments that you and Wonwoo share when you’re together, it’s that you wish for everything to never end. And now that you’re married, it is not far-fetched.

“I love you, Wonwoo,” you whispered and you’re not crying anymore.

Wonwoo pulls away slightly to look at your face and when he sees your smile, he knows that he loves you too.

a/n 2: all my love, the drabble/oneshot series masterlist is up! 🧡

#seventeen #wonwoo #svt #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen scenario #wonwoo scenario #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen imagines #wonwoo imagines #seventeen imagine #wonwoo imagine #seventeen fluff #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo seventeen #seventeen wonwoo #fic: ifliys

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