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itsgameofthronesimagines · 1 year

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Can you do an Otto Hightower Where the reader is Viserys and Daemon’s younger sister where she has a secret relationship with Otto. Daemon being a protective older brother. She could join in on meetings (like Rhaenyra did in the show) and they could have longing stares, secret touches, and they sneak around? Fast forward to when Viserys fires him, the Reader begs him to take her with him because she loves him but he promises he’ll return and he asks her to wait for him. Time jump to where she is older and this takes place at Laena’s funeral, they finally reunite! They could have a similar beach scene like Rhaenyra and Daemon did? Please please! I’m the dork who like characters like Otto and Tywin…

Title: We Light The Way

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing: Otto Hightower x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7,266

Warnings: Heated makeout sessions. Vulgar language. Age gaps. NSFW. Smut towards the end. DNI unless you are 18+. By clicking the ‘read more’ button, you are knowingly reading at your own risk. P in V (wrap it before you tap it)

Summary: Princess Y/n Targaryen, sister to Prince Daemon and sister to King Viserys, knows that her brothers turn a blind eye if she doesn’t act like their innocent baby sister. So she uses that to her advantage and sneaks around with a certain Hand of the King...

Taglist: @leniabranch (I believe you wanted to be tagged the next time I uploaded an Otto imagine)

A/N: You mentioned Tywin and now I’m curious what it would be like to write about his character... also I’m so sorry if you weren’t requesting nsfw. You mentioned Rhaenyra’s and Daemon’s scene and I got carried away. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy!

(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)

"So, I said to him, 'Well, I believe you might be looking up the wrong end.'"

The lords of the King's Council all laugh at Viserys' joke, all except Lord Corlys, of course. Princess Y/n Targaryen watches from the small crack in the doorway after having just come back from refilling the wine pitcher in hand, not yet wanting to interrupt the impending doom the Sea Snake always tries to bring attention to her brother.

"My lords," right on cue, Corlys stands up while unraveling a map, "The growing alliance among the Free Cities has taken to styling itself 'the Triarchy.' They have massed on Bloodstone and are presently ridding the Stepstones of its pirate infestation."

Viserys looks around before his eyes land back on the Sea Snake, hands absently playing with the egg from his platter, "Well, that sounds suspiciously like good news, Lord Corlys."

"A man called Craghas Drahar has styled himself the prince-admiral of this Triarchy," Corlys gravely reports, "They call him 'The Crabfeeder'--"

Y/n's eavesdropping is interrupted when she hears soft footsteps make their way down the hall. Looking over her shoulder, she finds her niece, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, quickly bounding down her way to the older woman, "There you are. Where have you been?"

"I'm sorry, Aunt. It won't happen again," Rhaenyra breathes, rushing to straighten her hair and dress as she joins Y/n at the door.

"You mean it won't happen a third time?" Y/n quirks a sharp eyebrow while knowingly staring down the young girl, a corner of her lips rising to a smirk as she brushes Rhaenyra's hair off her shoulder, "If I have to serve my brother and his council another round of wine by my lonesome, I should soon throw myself out the window of the Red Keep or resign to shoveling dragon shit."

Rhaenyra grins, quite similar to her aunt's, and both princesses huff amusedly under their breaths before pushing the doors open to the King's council room. They bound up the steps as the conversation Y/n was spying on continued.

"And are we meant to weep for dead pirates?" Viserys questioned Lord Corlys.

"No, Your Grace--"

"Rhaenyra, you're late," Viserys catches sight of his daughter as she rounds the table to him, "The King's cupbearer must not be late. Leaves people wanting for cups."

"I was visiting Mother." Rhaenyra leans down and kisses her father's temple in greeting.

Viserys theatrically sniffs the air around her, playfully eyeing his daughter with suspicion, "On dragonback?"

Rhaenyra smirks before turning away, gladly taking the wine pitcher from Y/n once her aunt flashes her a teasing smile. With the young princess serving the councilmen, Y/n stands off to the left of her brother, Viserys, hands respectfully folded in front of her. The discussion of the Stepstones drag on and Y/n starts to drown it out. It was not new of Lord Corlys to try and have Viserys and the other councilmembers take his matters seriously, no matter what threat Driftmark may face ruling over the Narrow Sea. By now, Y/n has mastered ignoring certain voices on the King's council, her ears only perking up when something new and interesting is afoot, otherwise, she quickly grows bored of these meetings, despite having the honor of taking part in them.

The only reason she finds these meetings bearable is when she has all the time in the world and every reason to stare at Otto Hightower, Hand of the King, without question or judgment. And putting herself behind King Viserys gives Lord Otto all the more reason to longingly stare back, always flashing her a small smile from under his facial hair. Long meetings like this are always Y/n's favorite because meals will be served and she has a reason to present Otto with a platter of food or a refill of wine. So when her hand innocently brushes his, no one bats an eye.

Their secret relationship was still new since Lord Otto has taken the appropriate amount of time to mourn his wife. Y/n's stomach would still flutter like a young maiden whenever they exchange those small looks, longing stares drifting down each other's frame ever so slightly, a silent promise for later.

Today, like any other day full of meetings, the King finally excuses the Council and the lords all part to have a moment of peace to themselves. As usual, Y/n squeezes her brother's shoulder and departs for her chambers, a slight skip in her step and a smug smile as she nods to anyone she passes in the halls. Her chambers, a private part of the castle, just so happens to be on the way to the Hand's room, and if Lord Hightower were to make a short stop to visit the King's sister, who is to say?

Y/n throws open her doors and quickly shuts them behind her, barring the handles before turning back to face the insides of her room. Biting back her wide smile as she descends the few steps, her eyes scan the room, searching for something she was eager to find. She needn't search for long as Otto steps out from behind her folding screen.

"Princess."

Her smile broadens, taking several steps forward to close the distance between them. Otto receives her with open arms as Y/n glides easily into his embrace, reaching up and curling her hands into his hair as her lips slide clumsily with his. Lord Otto's hands blindly roam her body, leaning into her warmth with equal heat and desire. Eventually, their lips have to part for air and the world sits right with Y/n as she leans her forehead against his, catching her breath with her smile unwavering.

She pulls away just enough in order to look at her lover properly, "So Lord Corlys has a Crabfeeder problem."

He peers down at her through half-lidded eyes and a fond smile, "Hm. Listening in were you?"

"Only when the conversation is interesting," she teased back as she leans back in to place a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth, revelling the scratch of his beard against her lips. Y/n's pride only grows when she pulls away and Otto intends on her following her, desiring more.

However, being the tease she is, Y/n pulls herself out of Otto's arms and swiftly moves to her dining table, "You know what would make quick work of the Sea Snake's infestation?" She peers over her shoulder at the Hand as she walks away, her grin ever prominent, "A dragon. Or two. You could always convince the King to send me and Daemon out to the Stepstones and make a statement of our power. With both of the King's siblings dismantling the Triarchy, the Crabfeeder would quickly learn not to make a mockery of our ports."

Otto straightens his posture, following her to the table, "Is that your desire? To hastily enter a war that hasn't yet made a threat?"

"The Free Cities are testing our weak points, acting as pirate killers while we lie and watch them," Y/n takes fruit from her dinner tray and turns back to him, leaning against the lip of the table, "They may not pose as a threat now, but they have already dug their claws into the Stepstones. All they have to do now is leave an impressionable mark."

Lord Hightower reaches the table and sits in one of the chairs, his eyes rising to look up at the princess as his hand slowly crawls over the surface of the table in her direction, "I tire of talking about politics for one day, let alone entertaining the idea of sending you out on dragonback on your own."

"But I wouldn't be alone. I would have my dragon and Daemon and Caraxes."

His hand barely catches onto the sleeve of her dress, his eyes watching the fabric pull against his grip instead of looking up at her, "Perhaps the princess would want me to summon another council meeting immediately?"

She playfully sighs, giving in as she sets her fruit back on the table. She leans into Otto's space until she has fully climbed onto his lap, "You will do no such thing."

His hands expertly find the ends of her skirts, hiking them up to her waist as he reaches for another kiss, "As you wish, my love."

~~~~~~~~~

The hour grows late just as Otto is summoned to the King's chambers. Y/n spends her evening in her room, eating fruit and absently turning the pages of a book she's read a hundred times just as there was a knock on the door.

"Come," she called, slamming the book shut as she stood.

Rhaenyra pokes her little head in with a playful smile, "I have a surprise for you."

When she fully pushes the door open, Y/n gets a glance at another individual standing beside her, taller and with even longer silver hair. Y/n's eyes light up like fireworks as she runs to her doorway, "Brother!"

Daemon Targaryen steps into the room and swings his younger sister around as she jumps into his arms. She laughs into his shoulder, delighted by Rhaenyra's surprise. It has been an age since Daemon has been back at court and even Y/n could admit the meetings have been boring without her second eldest brother second-guessing every lord sitting at Viserys' table.

"Ao jurnegon sȳrī, mandia," Daemon greets her, a small smirk gracing his thin lips.

[You look well, sister.]

"Nyke could ivestragon keskydoso syt someone qilōni prefers se company hen līvi se lowly vali toliot zȳhon own lentor." She teased back.

[I could say the same for someone who prefers the company of whores and lowly men over his own family.]

Daemon runs his hands down her shoulders, shaking his head, "I am Commander of the City Watch. And the scum of the streets requires my attention."

Y/n rolls her eyes, "Are you here for the tournament?"

"Of course, he is. Why else would he be here?" Rhaenyra says from the doorway, arms crossed and leaning into the wood.

"Well, I would hope he had come to his senses and wished to join his brother's council again," Y/n huffed a small laugh while turning away and fetching a wine pitcher and a goblet, "Or perhaps come to support his cousin as she goes through a difficult pregnancy."

"Viserys has you in those infuriating meetings and Aemma has you for support," Daemon huffs back, accepting the wine goblet after Y/n had poured wine into it, "My talents are suited elsewhere, dear sister. Why run the court myself when I know you are fully capable?"

"Because I'm not a part of the court," Y/n loops her arm through Daemon's and leads him to the group of furniture centered in her room, gesturing Rhaenyra to join them, "I'm still a cupbearer."

Daemon's nose scrunches up as he's seated, "Do you mean to tell me that Viserys has not yet given you a seat at the table? What cunt made him decide against it? Was it Otto Hightower?"

Despite wanting to defend Otto, Y/n wisely chooses not to and only shrugs in response, "I don't see any reason why anyone would advise against it, dear brother."

"I'm still a cupbearer as well," Rhaenyra pitched in as she sat down, both her aunt and uncle turning their heads toward her.

"That is different, Rhaenyra. You are still young."

"If you were the King's cupbearer for as long as Y/n has, you would deserve a place at that table," Daemon tells his niece, all the while pointing at his sister with his cup with a sneer of disgust, "Now, I would bet my life that the one responsible for this treachery is none other than that sniveling, slithering, good-for-nothing cunt of the Hand of the King!"

"Treachery?" Y/n openly laughs, standing back up to fetch another tray of food from her dining table, "It hardly counts as a crime, Daemon. Even if Lord Otto is behind the King's lack of promoting me, which I highly doubt, there's no harm in it."

"'Harm,'" Daemon scoffs, shaking his head slightly as Y/n rejoins him and Rhaenyra, "Otto Hightower's ambition is only for himself, and not for the good of the Crown. If he truly had a love for this family and a love for Viserys' rule, he'd advise you to have a seat in the King's Council. The dragon has three heads and Viserys has two siblings. We would be stronger if we all were able to advise him."

The passionate words struck Y/n, eyes wide as she stares at her brother. Daemon gulps back the rest of his wine and the room lingers with silence. When he looks back at Y/n, she quickly flashes a quick smile to him and to Rhaenyra to reassure them both, despite the doubts lingering in the back of her mind.

~~~~~~~~~

Once Daemon is sent away, his words eventually go with him and Y/n forgets her doubts. After Aemma was lost to childbirth, along with her baby boy, a grieving Viserys exiles his brother to Dragonstone and names Rhaenyra as his true heir. For a moment, a brief moment, Y/n wondered why she wasn't a competitor for the throne, but quickly squashed that thought before it could fester. Between losing their cousin and missing their brother, Viserys and Y/n stick close to one another, sharing their grief.

During this time, Y/n and Otto have become more serious with each other, becoming a bit too bold even in public. Their touches last longer, their stares lingering far past appropriate, and it's been getting harder to sneak around. This spurs on the topic Y/n has been waiting to ask her lover.

"You could ask him to marry us, you know. He won't deny it."

Otto slowly sets down his quill, his sigh briefly disturbing the candles around his desk. Looking up, he meets her gaze as she's draped over his chair, reaching for her hand, "What's best for us is not necessarily best for him. Your brother is grieving the loss of his wife and son. I would not ask him for your hand in marriage at a time when he needs you the most,"

He kisses the palm of her hand, closing his eyes and lingering in her warmth. Y/n is satisfied with this answer, running her free hand over his hair before planting a small kiss on his temple. She stands up straight and looks to the door of his office before back down at her lover, "If someone were to see me walk out of here, tell them I was merely consulting with you on how to best comfort our king."

He nods in agreement and watches her go.

Y/n continues to bring up the topic of marriage, and each time, something new is in the way of Otto asking the King. First, Viserys announces his engagement to Lady Alicent Hightower, which came as a surprise to everyone present at the announcements, except for Otto. The grand wedding came around as well as Alicent's first pregnancy, then her second, third, and fourth. Three years have passed, and by the time Y/n was confident her lover was about to ask her brother to wed them, Daemon arrived back from the Stepstones. Y/n quickly forgot her proposal to Otto in exchange for reuniting with her other brother again.

But by the time the dust settled, it was too late. Once Y/n awoke and broke her fast the next morning, Daemon had already been sent away again and with this, she heard the news of Viserys dismissing Otto as his Hand. Heartbroken and confused, the princess made her way to Otto's chambers, demanding an answer.

"Why is he doing this? What happened last night to make my brother send Daemon away and dismiss you? Why does everyone somehow know except me?" She desperately asks in a single breath while regrettably helping her lover pack his things.

Otto sets his riding gloves down and heaves a large sigh before turning to her, "I cannot say."

"You can't or you won't?" When he could not answer her demand, she sucks in a sharp breath of air, "And what are we to do?"

"We?"

"Yes, 'we', unless I have been bedding another Otto Hightower for the past four years." Y/n snarled.

"Sarcasm is beneath you, my dear."

"And keeping secrets from me is unbecoming," she hits his chest, lightly, but gets her point across if his hurt expression had anything to say about it. Torn to shreds, Y/n's next sigh comes out trembling, regret welling in her eyes until her hands reach up and caress the spot in his chest where she had hit him. Defeated, her voice reverts to a whisper, "Take me with you. I will forgive everything, here and now, if you take me away from here."

"Your brother has just dismissed me. I doubt he will approve of me taking you away to Oldtown to be my lady wife," Otto's strong, withered hands gather hers and places them over his heart, "You're the princess. Your place is here."

A soft sob escapes her, disbelief in her teary eyes as she looked up at him, "But not with you?"

"Oh, I wish it so, Y/n, I swear it," he whispered, gathering her up in his arms and kissing the top of her head, rocking the two of them into a brief moment of calmness, "Perhaps this all happened for a reason. The gods might wish us to marry but not at this time. Our time will come. Just wait for me at the end of this road."

He feels her head buried in his chest as she turns it side to side, "I can't deny my brother's wishes if he decides to marry me off to someone else. I've already delayed him this long."

"Try. I know you can persuade him."

"If you believe that, then let me persuade him to keep you."

"I promise I will return. I know I will," he leans back and takes her face in both of his hands, forcing her to look him in the eye, "Take care of Alicent. Tend to her every need."

They pack the rest of his things in silence, not even touching each other until the next morning. Y/n woke to a frenzied knock on her door and rushes to answer. Otto is standing there and she barely has time to register his riding clothes before he's swept her up in a long, passionate kiss.

"Wait for me." He whispered against her lips.

In a flurry of his cloak, he retreats, not even waiting for Y/n to respond. He's left the Red Keep before she could even dress for the day, taking Alicent's youngest son, Daeron, with him to be fostered in Oldtown.

~~~~~~~~~

Ten years. Ten. Long. Years.

Princess Y/n Targaryen feels herself growing old as both Rhaenyra and Alicent grow up. She does her best to befriend her lover's daughter, but Alicent grew out of her shell shortly after Rhaenyra's marriage to Laenor Velaryon. When she grew into a queen, Alicent suddenly had no need for friends outside of her sworn shield, Ser Criston Cole, and her confidant, Lord Larys Strong.

From her marriage to Laenor, Rhaenyra birthed three sons, Jacerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey. Y/n was there for each of her niece's labors, trying to be the mother figure Rhaenyra deserved to have at her side in these stepstones of life. Y/n also tried her best to be with Alicent and her children. She gave advice when she could and even helped raise her niece and nephews if Alicent appeared stressed. The Queen thanks Y/n with feigned interest, only entertaining the older woman in her presence. Otherwise, she had no interest in being her sister-in-law's friend.

Daemon had run off and married Laena Velaryon in this long decade as well, having twin daughters with a third on the way. They travel through Essos and hardly ever journey back to Westeros. Viserys has done nothing but get worse in health, slowly decaying from the inside out. In many ways, both of Y/n's brothers were far from her reach, and her lover farther still.

Never in her life has Y/n felt so alone until this very moment. Her brothers are more distant than ever, the man she loved thousands of leagues away from her. Her niece is married with children and everyone else has followed her lead. Everyone appears to have moved on with their lives. All except Y/n, who remained frozen in time, never moving forward.

Viserys eventually notices his forlorn sister and asks her when she intends to marry. Cold and defeated, she answers with little emotion, "I'm old and barren. I would not make a good wife to anyone because I am no longer of age to have children."

"Come now," he tried to cheer her up, alone in the throne room. He smiles hopefully, "There's no need for such words of doubt. Plenty of suitors have come and gone from here and you never once spoke to me with interest to any of them. Surely, someone must have crossed your mind?"

It was like watching a barrel of wildfire ignite at the drop of a match. Y/n's whole body stiffens, her emotionless face suddenly coming to life from stone to fire. She glared up at her King brother, venom dripping in every word she spoke, "If you wish to be rid of me, brother, just say the words."

Viserys retracts, horrified that she would even make such an accusation, "Now, Y/n--"

"You pushed Daemon away and now you are pushing me away!" She roared, voice echoing off the walls of the vast room, "Slowly, day by day, you have pushed your siblings away until they had no choice but to leave. Not once did you ask Daemon to be your hand, now look where he is! And what of me? I had been your cupbearer long before Rhaenyra was born and not once did you ever ask me to join your council! Now, all we have left is our resentment for each other!"

"You know why I couldn't name Daemon my Hand," Viserys retorts, exhaustion putting pressure behind his eyes. He covers his face with one hand as the start of a headache ignites, "And Otto Hightower was a loyal servant to the Crown before greed brought his motives elsewhere--"

With his face covered, he completely misses the way Y/n shrivels in on herself, folding her arms close to her body. He speaks up once more, "But go on. Clearly, you've had something on your mind for a while. Speak freely, baby sister, and be free of it."

Silence echoes through the chamber louder than her yells could, and the two bask in it until Y/n takes a deep breath and finds her courage to speak, "You gave Daemon the opportunity to be your heir, and after you disinherited him, you could have had me take his place. But you didn't. You just brushed past my existence and moved onto Rhaenyra."

The words hurt Viserys like a stab through the heart. The King lean forwards in his chair of swords, "Y/n--"

"I am your sister, Viserys!" She cries in anger, her eyes and nose pink with emotion as she peered up at him, "Your blood! I have equal relations to you as Daemon does, and yet no equal titles or lands of my own. You name your daughter, a woman, as Heir to the Iron Throne but have not once given your own sister anything she could have possibly desired!"

"And pray tell would that be?!" Viserys roars as he shakes his walking cane, tired of the accusations and the squabble between him and his sister, "Tell me! Your King demands it!"

"The man I loved!"

The words ring in his ears along with his gasps of air as he tries to catch his breath. They stare at one another, panting and drained of all their emotions, like most pent-up siblings. Y/n licks her bottom lip, blinking rapidly while her eyes cast to the stairs leading up to the throne, ashamed. Viserys leans back on his throne, exhausted, watching the way his sister battles with her thoughts before she decides to Hell with them.

"Otto Hightower," His eyes widen when she spoke that name, but allowed her to further explain, "I loved him then, I love him now. I thought you knew. I thought you knew and refused to act on it. I thought you knew my love for him and you dismissed him anyway. You sent my love away... and for ten years, I have been stewing in my resentment of you, thinking how cruel my big brother can be."

"Y/n..." Viserys whispered, guilt boiling in his stomach as he watched his little sister shrink in on herself, "I am so, so sorry. For all of it. If I could take it all back--"

"It's far too late for that now," Y/n rapidly wipes the tears away, straightening her posture and taking deep breaths. Viserys could visibly see the stone wall she puts up as she now faced him as a dragon princess, "Fifteen years too late for you to grant me lands and titles, and ten years too late to marry me off. I'm sure by now Rhaenyra has informed you that she will be leaving for Dragonstone with her family. I intend on joining her."

She turns and walks out of the throne room, and Viserys no longer had the strength to stop her.

~~~~~~~~~

Living on Dragonstone with Laenor, Rhaenyra, and their children was peaceful, apart from the boys running around and having adventures of their own. Jace and Luke were wonderful, and they loved their Great-Aunt Y/n. Having a new baby around was wonderful, too. Whenever Rhaenyra needed a break, Y/n was happy to take over. Rhaenyra was thankful to have her aunt with her family, living in their ancestral home together, away from the viper den of King's Landing.

They receive two letters not long after moving into Dragonstone. The first was from King's Landing, reporting the deaths of Lord Lyonel Strong and his son, Ser Harwin, and the second letter was from Driftmark, detailing the funeral for Laena Velaryon. Leaving Joffrey behind with a wet nurse, the rest of the family head to Driftmark to pay their respects. Upon arrival, Corlys and Princess Rhaenys were waiting to greet them, gathering their son up in their arms as they mourned their loss. Baela and Rhaena were there as well, but Daemon was nowhere to be found, much to Y/n's disappointment.

"Take me to your father," she demanded gently of her nieces after she held and kissed both of them. The twins take both of her hands and led her away from the growing crowds of funeral attendants. They brought her to a quiet room within the keep, and then she quietly sent them away to be with the rest of their family, "I promise I'll have him ready for the burial."

Heading inside, the room was completely dark other than the natural light coming through the window. She found Daemon easily enough, slouched in the corner of the room, and gathered him in her arms. He wasn't responsive other than to bury his face away from the world in his sister's shoulder, silent as the grave. Y/n was hoping for a better reunion than this after ten years of missing her brother, but he had just lost a wife and child. She couldn't afford to be selfish when Daemon was grieving.

Y/n repeatedly kissed the top of Daemon's head, squeezing him as tight as she could as would a mother to her child. Y/n doesn't remember her own mother very well, but she could imagine her holding Little Daemon like this whenever he was upset.

"I'm here... I'm here."

Daemon Targaryen does not cry in front of anyone, but for his little sister, he makes an exception.

After some time, Daemon is willing to show his face long enough for the ceremony. Y/n leads him outside where everyone had gathered around. While she was attending to her brother, the royal family arrived and was now waiting for them before saying their last goodbyes.

Y/n nearly tripped over her own feet when she saw Otto Hightower among the crowd, proudly wearing the sigil of the Hand once again. She nearly forgot how to breathe when she recognized his face, the air completely stolen from her lungs, heartbeat pounding in her ears. If she caught his eye, she couldn't tell with the crowd moving towards the cliffside where they would throw Laena's remains into the sea. For now, she couldn't approach him. Daemon and his daughters needed her first and foremost.

Throughout the eulogy Vemond Velaryon gives, Y/n keeps her gaze lowered and her hand on Daemon's arm. Halfway through sending Laena's coffin into the sea, Daemon whispers into her ear, "Our beloved Hand of the King can't keep his eyes off you."

Y/n paused, looking up at Daemon before following his gaze. She pulls her hair out of the way when the wind takes hold but sure enough, Otto stood far from the grieving family, dutifully keeping his hands folded in front of him. His eyes, however, were cast onto Y/n, only occasionally looking away out of respect for the dead when Laena has finally been put to rest. When he noticed you staring back, Otto's eyes lingered longer, as if the past ten years never happened and you were back in the council room, sharing glances and quick touches.

Y/n looks away and lowers her head again out of respect for Laena, dismissing Daemon's comment, "He's looking at you, brother."

All the guests quietly conversed with one another after the eulogy, any exchange becoming awkward or full of meager stares. The family of the deceased was approached numerous times and given plenty of condolences, but for the most part, Y/n either stuck to Daemon or Rhaenyra, not wishing to speak among the royal family as her estranged relationship with Viserys was still a sore subject.

It's not like she could mix with the crowd anyway. Ever since Daemon noticed Lord Otto staring, he had yet to leave Y/n's side, and she has elected to ignore it. But, as always, Daemon gets bored easily. He leaves the gathering and before long, so does Rhaenyra, but only Y/n appeared to have noticed, that is until Caraxes and Syrax flew overhead, alerting everyone of the prince and princess' departure.

Y/n was staring up at the evening sky, fondly watching the dragons fly away together. She didn't notice Otto approaching her until his hand gently touches her elbow, jolts of lightning running up her arm as she turns to face him.

The two of them found themselves walking alongside the beach together, long after the sun had disappeared over the horizon. The waves crashed and the wind blew, filling in the silence between the pair until the Hand spoke, "Alicent spoke highly of you. She said you tended to her and her children in her time of need," he waits for a response but didn't get one, so he continued to fill the void with words, "I owe you my gratitude for stepping in when her mother couldn't."

She winced, pained by the reminder of his first wife. Y/n keeps her voice even and stern, looking out onto the waters instead of looking at him, "I wasn't a mother to her. I was merely serving my Queen as I saw fit. When did you come back?"

"I returned to King's Landing by His Grace's command after the death of Lord Lyonel, may he rest in peace," Otto put his hands behind his back as he walked, watching his shoes sink into the sand, "I was beside myself when I arrived only to realize that you weren't there to receive me."

"I left shortly before you were summoned. My brother and I had a fight about-- well, about plenty of things, I suppose. I left for Dragonstone to take some time away."

"If you had waited--"

"I waited long enough," she snapped suddenly, stopping in her tracks and forcing him to do the same by her glare alone, "Ten years may have been a blink of an eye for you, but not for me."

"What makes you so sure? How do you know how I felt all these years?"

"I can only guess. It's not like you wrote letters to tell me otherwise." She snarled.

Otto lowered his gaze to the sand once again, ashamed, "I couldn't. It would have been a painful reminder that I could not have you."

Y/n huffed, annoyed by him and herself for acting like fools. She stared out over the water again before asking the question that had been troubling her all these years, "Why did you keep refusing to marry me? Why not ask my brother and be done with it?"

Lord Hightower sighed, his eyes wandering as he tried wording his next excuse the best way possible, "Your brother... back then, when he looked at you, he only ever saw a child."

The scowl on her face showed how unimpressed she was by his words, "I am only three years younger than Daemon."

"You were young when you and I started having relations. Viserys was at the height of his power and Daemon was known for killing a man for almost any reason," he smiled gently, "I would not have survived long enough to marry you had I tried asking your brother for your hand."

She shook her head in disbelief, running her hand over her hair when the wind picked it up and threw it back in her face. Otto watches the movement with calculation, wondering how long would it take him to run his fingers through those soft silver locks and sniff out every pin and braid. Y/n peers back and recognized that look, smiling a little to herself as she remembered how impressionable she is to him. Y/n makes a step forward, her feet sinking into the sand as she stood in front of him. She watches her fingers trace shapes in his cloak, the offending fabric keeping her from his torso and the beat of his heart. She peers up at him then, through her long lashes her violet eyes meet his and the mystery of his eye color wandered into her head. Were they blue in a certain light? Or were they green like his house colors, green like the flames of the great lighthouse that call House Hightower's banners to war? Y/n wonders if this is a mystery she can soon find out herself, purposely letting her eyes wander down to his lips. She internally cheered in triumph when the motion drove Otto to gasp out a tiny breath, "And how about now? Would you ask for my hand now?"

"Would you still have me?"

One of her hands reach for his mouth, fingers lightly tapping on his bottom lip, "If it weren't for your idiocy, I'd have you already."

A deep, gentle chuckle sounds deep in his chest, wrinkles ever prominent in the corner of his eyes when he smiled to himself. His lips briefly kiss her fingertips as he whispered, "Well, then. You'll be happy to learn that I already arranged everything. King Viserys summoned me and admitted that by doing so, he hoped to make you happy. I asked and he granted us permission to be married the moment we arrive back in King's Landing."

Y/n's hands pause their movement, her half-lidded eyes now widening in surprise, searching his face for an answer in disbelief, "Really?"

"Yes. He said he was done disappointing his sister."

She exhales excitedly, a sparkling smile gracing her beautifully aging face. Otto lovingly watched as small wrinkles, trying to make themselves known, show in the corners of her eyes as well. He happily counted each one before they disappeared from his sight when Y/n leaned up to kiss him.

It's warm and almost unbearably charged. Both lose their breaths quickly as their kisses drag out and become frenzied. Otto's hands make their way through her cloak, gripping tightly onto wherever flesh may be through her dress. Y/n's hands find purchase in his hair, gripping tightly as her leg rubs subconsciously against his crotch.

Otto breaks from the kiss, clawing for breath while trying to voice reason, "Y/n..."

"I told you. I waited long enough," she whispered into his lips, pulling him close again, "What difference does it make?"

They find themselves taking refuge inside the remains of a ship sticking out of the sand like a large dragon's ribcage. The little cover shields them from the wind and muffles the sound of the crashing waves. Y/n could see stars peeking through the shipwreck, shining down on her as she lay on her back, Otto's cloak the only thing between her and the sand. She rushes to hike up her skirts and lower her stockings as the Hand unfastens his belt and pulls the strings of his trousers. She started to see other stars behind her vision as her fingers run through her folds and rub circles over her clit, her moans drowned by the crashing waves and violent winds outside their sanctuary. Otto breathlessly watches her in awe. A goddess in every way, a dragon perfectly fitted into the body of a woman. She catches his predatory gaze and feels the warmth tighten deep in her belly from the intensity of his eyes on her, witnessing her sin and unable to control himself from waiting any longer.

Lord Hightower leans over her body, loosening her cloak and pulling her dress down to expose her shoulder, kissing her bare collarbone as he pants into her skin, "I miss moments like this more than anything."

As did she, if the rising pitch of her moans had anything to show for it. The warmth in her belly ignites like a fire and her patience grows thin. Forcing her own fingers away, she leans up and runs her lips over Otto's then trails down to his neck and relishes the scratch of his beard against her fair skin. Feeling her wetness run down and smear on his already ruined cloak excites her to the point she felt like she could fly without a dragon. She gasps out a demand, "Lie down, my love."

He does so, and to be honest, his obedience excites her all the more. Perhaps this was his way of apologizing and making up for the lost years, but to have him bend to her will made her feel like the Queen of Dragons herself. Like Vhagar, striking terror wherever she flew.

With Otto on his back, Y/n swings her leg over his waist until she was hovering over him, her knees sinking into the sand on either side of his hips. Her skirt pools around them at the motion, covering Y/n's new mount from sight. Otto blindly ventures under her skirts, experienced hands gripping around the apex of her perfect thighs. One of the princess' hands grips tightly onto the beard hair on his chin, forcing him to look up at her, his intense gaze still filling her with delight, hot magma still pooling in her belly. Her other hand dives underneath her skirts, expertly finding his. She guides his fingers further up her thigh and to her core. With determination, she watched his reaction as she made him feel his hardened length enter her with his own hand.

Her slick and warmth welcoming him inside her body drive the both of them to groan involuntarily, drawing out provocative sounds as she fully sinks down onto him. Otto unconsciously closed his eyes, feeling every inch of her both inside and outside. She's so warm and tight, rhythmically gripping onto his length. Her thighs rub either side of his hips, and he notes the insides of them are slightly rough. When she experimentally rolled her hips, a moan and a jolt of realization brought him to the conclusion that she learned how to do this by riding dragons.

She refused to bounce. Instead, she rolled her hips and drew his length in and out of her, back and forth and then in circles, like she was leaning her weight on the back of a dragon, flying through the skies. Her hand, still grasping his underneath her skirts, moves his fingers to rub against her clit, the rough pads of his fingertips sending a jolt up her spine and driving a cry out from her lungs. Otto takes the hint and takes over, tracing circles over her bud as she leaned her head back to moan up at the sky. With his hand now where she wants him, Y/n takes her hands and leans back to hold onto his legs, using this added momentum to quicken her pace, huffing hot air down the cleavage of her dress as she screwed her eyes shut in heated bliss.

"Take me fully this time, my love," she whimpered hastily, "All the way, without hesitation. I'll be yours by law soon. What does it matter if we do or don't wait before our marriage bed?"

Her words drive his fingers to start furiously rubbing against her clit, painfully but in a good way as her insides catch fire. Otto is panting uncontrollably, desperate to catch his breath as he's ridden by his young love, peaking ever so near by her words and her fluttering cunt. Y/n loses the rhythm of her hips as she desperately tries to get near her climax, jaw dropping and unable to swallow her unbridled screams of ecstasy. Her throat and lips are dry but all she could do is continuously moan and scream, feeling the tip of her betrothed's length begin to hit her cervix. Her grip on his legs tightens, sharp claws digging into flesh as her movements continuously hit that spot she's just dying to meet.

"Yes, yes, yes-!" Her coil cannot tighten any further and she's desperate for release. One of her hands dives back under her skirt and swats his hand away from her clit. She makes him grip onto the meat of her arse with both hands while she rubs her own clit in the motion she knows will make her see stars, now furiously bouncing her hips up and down his cock, "That's it, my love! Take me. Make me yours-! Oh, gods--"

Otto's hips suddenly rise to meet hers and now they're both howling at the moon, Y/n's walls fluttering all around his length as he spills deep into her, tremors running up and down her whole body as the dam overfills and spills over, rushing to the top of her head and down to the tip of her toes, forcing them to curl. The intensity of her climax is so large that she can no longer force noise from her mouth, her jaw hanging but nothing falling from her lips.

She forgets everything for a moment. How to breathe, how to speak, and how to even open her eyes. Otto's hips fall back down to earth and she soon follows, draping over his entire body in exhaustion. She rises and falls against his chest as he breathes, frantically at first before finally slowing down, despite his heartbeat still fluttering against her cheek. Finally, Y/n smiles in contentment and opens her eyes despite the uncomfortable feeling of Otto's seed leaking out of her and running down her thigh. She lifts her head to meet his and finally noticed that the Hand of the King appears to be asleep.

"My love?" She questions, slightly panicked as her hand cups his face.

Slowly, he comes back to reality as well, his eyes fluttering open and a restrained chuckle escaping his teeth, "I'm too old for this."

Y/n couldn't help but laugh a little, too, leaning down and rubbing her nose along the side of his neck, taking in his musky scent, "I'll never do that again if it helps."

"You'll do no such thing," he harumphs, making her laugh as his arms fully envelope her, "If one day my heart gives out from the way you ride me like a dragon, then so be it. Clearly, the gods have always meant to have me at your mercy, Princess."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: So I did struggle with trying to figure out hold much younger Y/n was going to be from Viserys and Daemon. I think Daemon is meant to be 22 years old during the first episode so I tried to base her age off of that. And yes I added Daeron Targaryen for no reason other than to be somewhat accurate with the lore.

Please support by leaving a like or something. If you have a request, please leave it in my inbox!

#otto hightower x reader #otto hightower imagine #otto hightower #hotd imagine #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #imagine #king viserys targaryen #viserys targaryen #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower

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welcometoteyvat · 3 months

Text

fake ga-ming voicelines (prerelease, some more delusional, some less. please give more hcs about him)

edit: apparently voiceline leaks just dropped so PLEASE no spoilers <3 if these are wrong that's too bad they're canon in my heart!!!

About Yun Jin: Besides being a great opera performer, Sir Yun's taste in tea is impeccable! Although she keeps asking me to join her at Heyu Tea House... their tea just doesn't have the same flavor as the tieguanyin from Xinyue Kiosk. Speaking of her, one of our clients has just developed a new strain—I promised to bring some for her when I come back to Liyue Harbor!

About Xiao: You mean Senior Xiao! Hehe, so you know him too! Next time, can you bring him along with you to one of my performances in the harbor? I've been trying to get him to come for a long time, but he always refuses... oh, good idea! Next time I'll hold it at Wangshu Inn, just for him!

About Xiangling: That girl always by Guoba's side, right? Man Chai seems to like her a lot, especially the cornbread buns she makes! To be honest, some of the things she cooks are a little too spicy for me, but otherwise she’s an excellent chef with unmistakable talent. No wonder her companion is a minor deity… wait, what? A major deity?

About Keqing: Thanks to her invitation and sponsorship, our Mighty Mythical Beast performances have been getting more and more attention in the harbor! She's very straightforward and speaks her mind about everything, and always has novel ideas! Although we haven’t talked much, I really admire her mindset and determination. It’s not easy to forge your own path forward, especially for someone of her standing.

About Chongyun: I've run into him once or twice on the road to Liyue Harbor. He didn’t seem to like talking that much when we met, but I’ve heard he’s actually quite outgoing! He wields a greatsword too—maybe he can train with me as the suanni’s tail? Of course, I wouldn’t force him to do anything he doesn’t want; I'm sure he's already busy! It would just be nice to have a wushou partner for once.

About Xinyan: I managed to catch one of Xinyan's performances when I had some free time after work. There weren’t many people in the audience, but her music was so energetic it completely made up for the quieter atmosphere. Originally, I was thinking about asking her to join our lion dance troupe as a drummer, but I’m glad to hear she's made a name for herself since then! I should properly introduce myself sometime!

About Zhongli: He once asked me whether I've heard about the legend of the solitary suanni after one of Iron Tongue Tian's stories. When I said yes, he launched into a really detailed discussion of Chenyu Vale's local belief system, and even told me some stories I haven't heard about a carp adeptus. It's amazing that he has so much knowledge on all sorts of folklore, as a funeral consultant no less!

About Xianyun: ... Who? im sorry i was going to put something about the adepti here but gave up trying to think of something and now it's just a joke line. suggestions welcome tho 🫶

About Yelan: Ah, that lady—sometimes I see her lingering around Yanshang Teahouse. They place regular orders of tea leaves from Yilong Wharf. She's very polite and even petted Man Chai once or twice, although I feel like there's more to her than meets the eye... well, business is business, and they've never caused any trouble for Sword and Strongbox, so whatever she does isn't much of a concern to me.

very long notes:

generally i feel like what's mentioned in chara voicelines tend to have a lot less substance than the actual relationship, so in my head some of them are closer w gaming than i wrote.

always welcoming suggestions!!!!! PLEASE share the brainrot with me i'm dying here OTL please please.

i'd like to write an "about xingqiu" but i bully my richboy son and he's already had like 12 other people comment on him in canon it's fine if ga-ming doesn't know him

everything's just for fun etc etc. don't take it too seriously

watch all of these be completely wrong!!!

similarly if any of these end up being right, i will SCREAM

the only ones i really really want to happen are with yun jin and xiao if they don't have voicelines i'll die

senior xiao comes from my headcanon (copium) that they'll keep the mentor disciple relationship (?) from that one concept art if you know you know. it also comes from this absolutely delicious fic

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liiilyevans · 10 months

Note

Dunno if this counts as a prompt but Hinny post Battle of Hogwarts?

send me a prompt

It does count! Also, I hope you're ready for some angst :)

Ginny lifted the bottle of Firewhiskey to her lips and took a long pull as she listened to the crickets on the back porch of the Burrow. They'd just gotten rid of all the guests from Fred's funeral, and now six in the evening felt like one in the morning. Maybe that was how alcohol made you feel. Mum would be pissed if she found Ginny like this, but she thought that if George was allowed to drink like this for a week leading up to the funeral, then she was allowed to drink like this after it ended.

As Ginny took another chug from the bottle, the back door opened.

"Go away, Mum," Ginny said. "Doesn't George need you more than me?"

"Your mum is still with George, even though I'm pretty sure he's passed out on the couch."

Ginny spun around and immediately regretted it. The world started to spin, and she had to grip her head to keep from puking. Gently hands took the bottle from her grip, and she heard it click against the porch. Heat radiated off of Harry as he sat down next to her and seeped into her.

"It was a good service."

"Please, don't."

Ginny didn't want to talk about Fred's funeral or how the service was nice or how George had managed to get through it without passing out. She wanted to forget this day existed, and she wanted to do that far away from the boy who had broken her heart a year ago trying to do the noble thing.

Harry swallowed, but he remained where he was. He probably felt awkward, she realized. He'd come out here to be nice and offer his condolences, possibly to let her cry on his shoulder, and she'd been abrasive. It was too bad. Harry had nice shoulders.

"You're right," he finally said. "The service was awful. Fred would have wanted at least on joke in there that scandalized your mother."

Ginny couldn't help the laugh that tumbled from her lips because he was right. Fred would have found that hilarious. Then her laughter was turning to tears, and Ginny couldn't stop the sobs that were spilling over her lips.

Suddenly, Harry wrapped her arms around her and tugged her against him. Ginny's fingers gripped his shirt so hard, she thought it would tear at the seams. The smell of grass and pine lodged itself in her throat. She thought she'd never be this close to Harry again, close enough that she could feel the heat of his skin against her cheek, close enough that she could smell him, close enough that she could feel his six o'clock shadow tickle her forehead.

"I'm sorry, Gin," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm so sorry."

Ginny thought she felt a tear drop onto her forehead.

Then a bright light was shining into her eyes, and Ginny yanked away from Harry savagely wiping at her eyes.

Ron stood in the doorway looking ashen and apologetic. "Oh, shit. Sorry."

"Ron!" Hermione hissed, coming up behind him. She looked furious, even if there were dark circles under her eyes and they were rimmed red from tears.

"What?" he said. "I didn't know they were out here."

Quickly, Ginny stood up and started down the stairs, leaving the bottle of Firewhiskey with Harry.

"Ginny!" Hermione called after her. "Where are you going?"

"Ginny," Harry said softly.

Ginny spun around then, anger bubbling to the surface. Anger at the Death Eater who took her brother from her, anger at the fanatic who had used his puppets to terrorize her school all year, anger at the the three people standing before her for never really being there for her when she needed them most.

"Why don't you all just fuck off?" she said. "You're pretty good at that."

The shock on their faces didn't feel satisfying like she thought it would. Instead, she just felt self-disgust pool in her stomach, similar to how she felt when she'd realized that she was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets.

Then Ginny turned and marched toward the broom shed.

#i would say i'm sorry but i'm not #hinny #harry potter #ginny weasley #i hope you enjoy!#answered #my writing

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sugolara · 1 year

Text

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚

feat. shoto todoroki x fem! reader

cw: angst

˗ˏˋ+ ´ˎ- leaving y/n a series of voicemails, shoto doesn't know when to let you go.

❝all your empty words mean nothing.❞

+ empty words by bowery electric

katsuki's ver. || alt continuation: @constanciandrea

you have one new voicemail!

"i saw you today. for the first time since... then. i couldn't tear my eyes away from your body. you looked beautiful, like the first time i saw you. i wanted to hold you. hug you. kiss you. but i couldn't. you looked so at peace, laying in your coffin. were you at peace? i like to hope so. i miss you, y/n.

"i'm sorry i wasn't there to save you when you needed me. i'm sorry i was so late. i'm sorry i had to watch your body decay and explode. i'm sorry that you died to save a civilian and put yourself at risk. i'm sorry that we all had to watch your confused face as you slowly fell apart.

"do you think you can ever forgive me?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"there's this girl. she's new. she reminds me of you. she came from america to replace you. at least that's what i think. but, aizawa says that she's here because a pro hero had recommended her. i think it's their way of saying sorry for your lost classmate.

"my eyes can't help but linger at her. i catch myself looking at her when she's not staring. she looks a lot like you. but she has different hair. and her personality is the opposite of you. i don't like her.

"would you talk to me in my sleep tonight?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"i'm sorry i haven't called you. aizawa has been keeping us busy with training, and my father is keeping me busy. trying to make up for what he did, trying to make us a family after seeing touya dabi again.

"i know it's been two days, and i can hear your voice telling me it's not a bother, that it's okay. but it's not. i call you just to hear your voice again. i call you just so you can make my heart beat, make it jump in my chest. because i miss feeling it that way.

"do you miss that feeling as well?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"i snapped today. midoriya has talked to me after he found out that i'm still keeping contact with you. he says it's not healthy and that i should move on. but what does he know, he still has ururaka. he doesn't know anything.

"i let the words that fall out of bakugo's mouth fall out of mine. i shouldn't have told him those words. the class, and even aizawa, gave me a sympathy look. i hate that look. i hate that they look at me like i'm about to break at any moment.

"would you reassure me that it's okay to keep holding onto you?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"i don't know how many times i have to say i'm sorry, but, i'm sorry. it's been three days since i last talked to you. what makes me feel bad is, that i have no excuses.

"i guess... i'm slowly trying to let you go. but it's hard when all i can think about is you laying down next to me. laughing while you tell me stupid jokes that i don't get. i'm so hung up on you.

"do you get hung up on me to?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"they started taking down posters of you. but the hall is still filled with your name. everyone still talks about you. even bakugo. surprising, right? he said at your funeral, that you had so much potential. he was even afraid that you were gonna take the number one spot.

"it's funny, because if i had to look really hard, it was almost like he loved you. he stares at your desk sometimes even if he knows that the new girl sits there. i even caught him standing outside of your old dorm room.

"would you have loved him if you weren't with me?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"remember that new girl i mentioned, well as it turns out, she left me a note on my desk. no, it wasn't a love note if that's what you were thinking. i guess she saw the eyebags underneath my eyes and my messy hair. she asked me if i was okay.

"i couldn't ignore her. she sounded so much like you. and her eyes. her eyes looked like yours. she stared at me the same way you looked at me. there was a faint thump in my chest as she talked and smiled at me.

"do you think it's okay if i talk to someone else that isn't you?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"i know, i bet you can hear me sighing. it's been, two, or three weeks since i last called you. my heart aches as i think about it longer. but, if you wanted to know, everything is going back to normal. your name no longer lingers in the hallways.

"i think the class is started to forget about you. everyone... seems so cheerful. i think they moved on, accepting your death. but i'm scared. i don't want to forget about you. but the longer i talk to the new girl, i start to... forget.

"if you're wondering why i haven't called, it's because i've been hanging out with the group again, even the new girl. i found out that she has the same style that you do. she dresses like you do. she does everything the exact same way you do.

"would you think i'm unfaithful if i said i'm feeling things?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ '

you have one new voicemail!

"she called me cute today. i felt my cheeks getting hot, i thought i had activated my quirk, but i didn't. it was cold today, and she forgot her sweater so i let her borrow mine. i liked how she snuggled up towards it, and smiled at me.

"y/n... i think i'm started to move one. and it pains me to say this, but, i think i am in love again. she makes me feel the same things you make me feel. she's beautiful. and if you were here, i'm sure you two would have gotten along.

"she never talks about you though. i assume she knows what happened and decides not to talk about you in order not to trigger me or anyone. i like it though. that she doesn't talk about you.

"do you still love me?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"hopefully, for the last time, i'm sorry. another week had gone by and i haven't talked to you. but, i took the new girl on a date. she told me that she liked me, and i... i kissed her. the whole class found out that we were dating. they were proud. i think proud that i had moved on.

''except, for bakugo. he snapped at me when he found out i had moved on. i thought it was because he was jealous of me or something, but no. he called me out, told me that i hadn't moved on. because if i did, then i wouldn't be here standing on your grave giving you these meaningless voicemails.

"and that i only dated the new girl because she looks like you. i think he's the only one who hasn't moved on. the class could tell. i had overhead kirishima telling him to stop calling you. to stop giving you your favorite flowers on your headstone. to stop looking at your photos. to stop looking at the confession he made that he was planning on giving you.

"to be honest, it didn't make me mad that he loved you. i think it ate him up more that it did to me. every time someone mentions you his head whips around, as if trying to look for you. he's still not over you."

"would you have accepted his confession?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"i saw your family the other day while i was walking the new girl home. i saw a sign that said 'rent' on your front yard. your house looks empty. they saw me, they smiled and wave as they got in their cars. and drove off, never returning.

"i hoped they moved on."

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"do you think you can ever forgive me? would you talk to me in my sleep tonight? do you miss that feeling as well? would you reassure me that it's okay to keep holding onto you? do you get hung up on me to? would you have loved him if you weren't with me? do you think it's okay if i talked to someone else that isn't you? would you think im unfaithful if i said i'm feeling things? do you still love?

"would you have accepted his confession?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"hey, i know. it's been two weeks. but i'm not calling to tell you about my day. as a matter of fact, i called you becasue, i have moved on. i'm letting you go and i hope you can let me go. i found love in you and i will always cherish that.

"i will always love you no matter what. but i no longer need to keep you here. i found love somewhere else. but no matter where you are, i hope that i get to see you someday and hold you one last time.

i love you, y/n. no matter where you are."

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

i'm sorry, but the number you have dialed is no longer in service. please dial back again to make sure you have entered the right number. goodbye.

#shoto angst #shoto x y/n #shoto x you #shoto todoroki #mha shouto x reader #todoroki shouto #todoroki x reader #todoroki shōto #mha #mha bakugou #mha shoto #x reader #bnha shoto x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #bnha shoto todoroki #words are strange to me

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morganalatina21 · 1 year

Text

Manipulating Death: Chapter Ten

Series Summary: When Harry discovers he has a twin sister that was hiding for years, he wants to know all about her, specially about her ability to bring people back to life.

a/n: I'm sorry it took me so long to post this one, I was trying to make it longer bc I intend to add a big time break next chapter and I needed everything to be in place, hope u enjoy it :)))

(Also, english isn’t my first language so I’m sorry in advance lol)

Last Chapter | Masterlist

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Pain.

That's all she felt.

Everywhere. Every single inch of her body was hovering and turning in pain.

Excruciating and extended.

Her eyes were blurry and took a long time to focus, and even a longer to realize where she was. The basement of her house.

And that sad figure on the stairs certainly was Sirius Black.

Felt like her brain got flipped, like someone stole and juggled around with it just to return it shaky and scared. The last thing she remembered was Regulus, standing right where his brother is, pulling her closer and closer to the living world.

Fuck, she was back.

"Holy smokes." The man said, crawling closer and closer to her, wand in hand just in case. "Are you really...?"

She blinked her eyes at him, trying to move the lips but feeling the throat ache like she just swallowed a cup of sand and glass.

"That's insane!" He shouted, a small smile on his lips. "But that's like... the eighth most insane thing that I've seen this last weeks."

The jokes were made to stop the tears from falling even though she could notice how his eyes sparkled.

Y/n was alive once more, he hadn't disappointed James and Lily again.

"Hold still, I'll grab you a cup of water." He mumbled just above a breath, and stood up, running to the kitchen. "Here ya go, mini Evans."

Pushing the liquid down her throat, she felt it burning like firewhiskey. Merlin, that hurt.

"Where's.... Reggie?" She whispered, voice breaking and exploding into coughing just as she finished her sentence. "He was here."

"He went back to the house, couldn't bare to look at you any longer." He told, caressing her hair as it slowly gained a little more color. "I said I'd stay behind to take care of your body until he was ready to give you a funeral. I offered to clean the house but he declined."

Of course he would, she thought, Regulus hated when things weren't adjusted his way. When they started living together, he finally had some control of what his house could look like and he wasn't ready to give it up.

His speech.

How he felt for her, even almost made her not regret kissing him the last time they saw each other.

"Take me to him." She pleaded, feeling her bones ache and flesh twist inside her body. "I need Reggie."

"I know you two have this really complicated relationship and shit, but right now you need to rest." He mocked, shaking his head no, like an old father who knew his kid was in love.

"Padfoot." Y/n called sternly, dropping his act. "Do you know anything about resurrecting someone? No. And I don't have strength on my own. If he finds out I came back but re-died because you didn't apparate with me, he'll murder you."

Hell, she was right.

"We'll grab the potions needed and you'll take me to him." She instructed. "Right now, we're both serious."

He choked in a laugh, looking at her in shock that she'd make that joke right now.

But he had to admit, on his early years in Hogwarts he'd tell that joke and its variants all the time, so much the marauders and the girls would already anticipate them.

And for just a moment, Sirius saw James' eyes instead of hers.

Shrugging it off, he pulled her arm above his head and helped feet after feet going upstairs, wanting to get out of there but also not forcing her in case she wasn't strong enough.

But oh boy, she was.

"Take that drawer." Y/n instructed, nodding towards the same furniture she asked Remus a couple nights ago. "And those papers and books, you can put it here." She said, opening a small backpack that was hidden under the coffee table. "It's for emergencies." She whispered upon seeing his gaze.

"Alright, what else do we need?"

The girl didn't answer, holding herself on the back rest of the biggest chair in the living room, shaky fingers gripping into the wood like her life depended on it.

Instead, she opted to whistle a light melody, looking at the main door, open wide due to the Death Eaters' forced entrance.

Sirius was starting at her like she just punched him in the face, asking what was wrong with her.

But he was surprised when two possessors came barging in, following the sound that came out of her lips.

She opened up the backpack and held it with both hands, her back pressed firmly against the wall for security.

The possessor didn't even hesitate to enter it, making their figures smaller and smaller to fit the tiny hole.

"What the..."

The biggest was Regulus' possessor, the one she ran after for the entire city they lived in two and a half years ago.

It's eyes found her pupils, just like the day she won his confidence, after two weeks of fighting each other through the streets.

Suffice to say, Regulus was less than pleased to see that thing once she came home with it, it was much bigger than the ones lying in the basement and stared holes in his face, desesperately wanting to possess his body once again.

The smaller was Luna's possessor, it was way shorter and it's eyes weren't in the slightest scary. That girl wouldn't take long to surpass the layers of the death world, so there wasn't that much work to do.

Once both were nice and organized in the backpack with the other supplies, she handed it over to Sirius.

"Ouch!" He yelled, feeling his head hit the ground and hands twist as soon as she let go of the bag.

"Careful, it's heavy." Her hoarse voice announced, almost giggling.

"Oh is it? I didn't notice!" He responded, forcing himself up and throwing the heavy backpack over his shoulder. "Anything else m'lady?"

Her eyes darted around, staring at every corner of that house, knowing she'd miss it so badly.

"Regulus already took a lot of your things, before you ask." Sirius groaned. "Like the hairbrush, the necklace and the tiara. He said you'd probably want to be buried with them."

The tiara, part of the costume Remus and Sirius got her for Halloween, the one that James died next to.

The younger Black was right. She wanted to be buried with those her whole life, but now maybe she'd give Harry the hairbrush, he had so little from their parents.

"Then that's all." She nodded, the feeling of missing it already shaking her body.

She'd miss waking up to find Regulus in the kitchen, hair pulled back in a small bun with teapot and two teacups on his hands.

Would certainly miss how they'd always want to move the furniture around the room without magic, and always ended up on the floor exhausted.

How sometimes they would feed the possessors like they were dogs.

How Regulus would always say he wanted a cat, and she'd tell him it would leave fur all around the house and he'd go mental with the animal.

That's when she realized.

Sure the house was a big part of her.

But what she missed really was him.

That obnoxiously intelligent man, she loved to mess with. She loved to see him.

She loved him.

And after literally dying, she was ready to admit that. But not to him, never.

To herself.

She could now accept the fact that the long stares when she looked at him, how she fell asleep in his arms every night, led to her feeling that way.

And it was fine.

What was not fine however was the turning and circling in her stomach when they landed right in front of the Order's house.

Her vision was so blurry she could barely see the doorknob Sirius was turning and pushing their way inside.

The Black had to hold her weight by the elbows at the mere sensation she'd fall.

He tried his best not to announce to the painting of his mother that they were back, it would be a catastrophic disaster.

"Regulus is on his bedroom, last door to the left." He instructed, helping to stand on the stairs while turning around to meet his cousin Tonks.

Y/n walked like an animal, with hand and knees, groaning in pain as it felt burning every inch of her skin.

She struggled all the path to the door Sirius mentioned, hearing him downstairs answer the girl's questions to make sure he wasn't a Death Eater.

Without any forces to get up or reach for the doorknob, she just banned slightly on his door.

No response.

Once again, she knocks three times, leaving her hand to rest on the wood, hoping for him to open soon before she passed out, backpack aching on her shoulders.

With a smooth crack, a house elf stood in front of her, his eyes held even more than just disgust.

"Master Regulus don't want to be bothered." He announced, sounding more like a threat. "And he ordered me to petrificate anyone who's behind the door if they try again."

Scoffing, she held tight to the fabric of her pants to stop her fingers from shaking. "That's very you, Reggie."

Before Y/n even blinked, the door was swung open and her numb body fell to his feet.

"For the love of Merlin." The man muttered, kneeling in front of her and grabbing those shaky cheeks, staring intensely at her eyes. "Y/n?"

"I found you once, and then did it again." She concluded, a breaking smile appearing.

Exactly what she promised she'd do, and tears welled up on his eyes before pulling her in for a tight hug.

His hands wandered around, her hair, her cheeks, her arms, all the way down to her trembling knees.

"How?!? I- I saw..."

"I was in the first layer." The Potter answered, being pulled inside by the man.

"All this time?"

"Well, you waited for me all this time."

Regulus positioned her on the bed, placing two pillows behind her head to make it more comfortable and started opening the backpack, holding her hand the entire time.

The possessors jumped out of it, looking around the house and feeling excited with the air of trauma and pain all around, running in circles around his room.

"Kreacher, can you fetch something for them to eat?" He asked quickly, unscrewing the top of a bottle and lining it up on her lips.

"Fuck this tastes awful."

"I know. I've been there."

The girl lightly mocked his comment but smiled big after it.

Regulus was so focused on taking care of Y/n, turning potions down her throat as he saw her doing so many times before, he didn't even noticed Sirius figure peeking from the door, Remus right next to him.

Both men stared at their interactions, how the Black had a faint smile on his lips after so many nights of dark stares and sad tears.

Sirius tapped Lupin's shoulder, indicating their hands enlaced together with a smile so wide. The werewolf smiled too, seeing how Y/n looked at him adorably.

And they dared to deny they're in love! They thought, shaking heads together.

Stepping out, they closed the door to give them some privacy and some alone time, knowing damn well Harry would wake up in the morning and want to spend time with his sister.

Not to mention the insane amount of questions the others would have.

A few minutes later, he fed her the last potion needed for now, eyes and face with a lot more color and it didn't seem to hurt her to breath for so long.

"Kreacher, I want you to meet her properly." Regulus called, welcoming the elf closer to them. "This is Y/n Potter, she's Harry's twin. And the one that brought me back to life."

His eyes went big, taking over his entire scrunched up face and he bowed to her. "I am eternally grateful for bringing Master Regulus back."

"Well, he brought me back too, so I guess we're even now."

We are far from it, the Black thought but decided to stay shut about.

"You need to rest now." He informed, pulling her knees so she'd be fully laying down. "Hell no." Regulus ordered, standing up and letting go of her hands for just a bit, grabbing something on his drawers.

He came back in less than two seconds, grabbing her by the calf and shoving a sock on her foot, doing the exact same with the other one, mumbling curse words in french the entire time.

"Are your trying to convert me, Black?" She asked, a smug smile on her face when she looked at her feet now covered with wool socks in the Slytherin colors. "I see your second intentions."

"You just look pretty in green." He shrugged, trying not to make it obvious he wanted to see her with the colors of his house.

"Sure, of course I'll believe that, Slytherin Prince."

"Fine, if you don't want them..."

"No!" She fought, taking her feet away from his lap. "They're comfy." Regulus rolled his eyes. "Come on, we have to sleep. Wanna be the small spoon?" She suggested, smiling at him and already turning to be on her side.

"I have a better idea."

With a tight grip, he rolled her around to be chest up once again, spreading her legs a little in a motion that made her heart run circles inside her chest.

The Black made his way to be on top of her, between her legs, to which she squirmed a little bit, a chill spreading down her spine.

He lied all his weight on her, adjusting himself in a way his head would be placed on her chest, hearing the heartbeats.

"Relax, everything is fine now." Regulus said, noticing how quick paced they were. "I'll be here if you have any nightmares."

He nuzzle against her body, not moving his head once, wanting to make sure she was there.

Alive.

With the man she was in love with holding her tight, between her legs and head so close to her breasts, it was hard to relax. But she forced herself to, falling asleep like that, close to her loved one and the possessors guarding their sleep.

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"Y/n?"

She woke up, startled, breath hitching on her throat. Regulus was hovering over her.

"Which one was it?"

The Potter felt confused for just a moment, but noticed what he was talking about. She was squirming on her sleep and heartbeat so fast like a rat's heart.

He thought she was having a nightmare.

"Uh the- the one with Abby." She lied, breathing in and out. "But it's fine now, don't worry."

"Are you really?"

Opting for nodding instead of saying it, a bad sensation of thirst in her throat.

"I'm glad. Stay here, I'll bring you breakfast."

He quickly leaned in, leaving a gentle peck on her lips and getting up.

"Oh... oh, uh- oookay." She answered as he left the bedroom, leaving behind a very confused Y/n, with possessor who groaned something to her. "Oh shut it, you two." She grunted, trying to not make her smile so wide.

With two fingers, she pinched herself, making sure it wasn't a dream. But it happened the she was wide awake.

When he came back, a few minutes later, with her favorite breakfast in hands, she decided not to address it. He made it look so casual, as if they were doing this for years so she decided to leave it like that.

Sitting on the bed, back pushed to the headboard, she took in the breakfast, with Regulus lying his head on her thighs and staring at her the whole time.

"Are you sure you're fine?" She asked after swallowing the drink. "You haven't asked me anything yet."

"Because you won't know peace once those kids wake up." He replied, drawing shapes in the fabric of her pants. "Specially those two your brother calls best friends, I was one second away of cursing them."

"You be nice!" She averted, finger pointing at him. "You weren't any better, bombing me with questions every two minutes."

"That's totally different."

She laughed, taking the reforce potion with the rest of the meal.

They just kept in silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other's presence in the warmest way possible. Once again, just the two of them. How it has always been. How Regulus wanted it to be forever.

When the conversation outside started to get more and more crowded, the Black decided to call Harry.

Everyone noticed the sudden change of mood in the heir's movement, looking a lot more light and like a gentleman in the 1800s instead of a bloody vigilante assassin.

So for that, Harry was more than suspicious and refused to go upstairs.

"You're acting weird." The boy pointed. "And nothing changed, so I'm sorry if I don't trust you like she did."

"I'm sorry to break it to ya." The voice on the stairs said, attracting everyone attention. "But we've been kind of a package deal for the last years, so he's like this personalized keychange that comes with me, no refunds."

She was holding herself tightly to the handrail and using the biggest possessor as a support.

Regulus immediately held his hand out, being her new crutch despite rolling eyes at how she described him.

"A blood traitor! Regulus how could you?" The portrait of Walburga shouted, muffled because it was facing the wall but still making itself present. "Do you have any idea what we have done for you, just so you could come back and stab us with-"

They couldn't hear anything in a second, and all eyes turned to Sirius, but he was just as astonished.

"I didn't came back to hear mother scream at me again." The younger Black answered, making his brother's eyes sparkle looking at him.

"I'm so proud... Group hug?"

"Lay one finger on me and I'll snap all of your bones in half."

Y/n mouthed something like "He won't" without any sound, knowing Regulus enjoyed this powerful dark face he had.

"I'll take a family hug." She said, removing the hand from the possessor and reaching out for her brother, who immediately ran across the living room to get to her.

They embraced each other so hard the girl felt her bones aching, and held in a huff, just glad she was one again with her twin.

"I thought I lost you." Harry whispered, body shaking from falling tears.

"I never leave my family behind."

Taglist: @intoanothermind @moonysupremacy01 @maraudersarelifee @elleraelockwood @darkenwolfie @hopesf @lukewearingbeanies @azuredgalaxies @klazina-couch-potato @goldensunshineshit @kaverichauhan @venomsvl @mrs-billyrussooo @mikadorbs @iavenderh6ze @wizardsgrace @reblog-princess @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @roroswitherose @s-we-e-t-t-ea @ok-boke @warcelia @danyxthirstae01 @b-tchymoon @lovely-maryj @adriannamirse @seesaw-it @awritingtree @regulusblackloverr @coffeeaddictednymph @quackitysdrugdealer @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @teamspideyman @the-sander-fander

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Next Chapter

#manipulating death series #harry potter #remus lupin #sirius black #harry potter fanfiction #albus dumbledore #black brothers #dumbledore #order of the phoenix #regulus black x reader #regulus black #regulus black x oc #wolfstar

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icallhimjoey · 2 years

Note

I know you said you don't want to touch Like A Poem because it's perfect as it is (you're right, it is). But hear me out here... there is still tension even though Joe and reader have now kissed. I'm not sure you're aware (obviously you are lol) but Joe and reader do not know each other at all. He knows she owns a book store, and she knows he likes his coffee black and that's pretty much it? Also I want to read about the funeral to be able to get over the grandfather dying so suddenly (why did you do this to me it made me sob) so I'm officially begging you to continue the story :))))

i don't know who you are, but i will find you - very sorry but will have to murder you. BIG SIGH. all right, i'm starting a "second season" to Like A Poem because of this request, and this is the first part. and hey. last thing. fuck you 🥰 Wordcount: 2.1K

-----

A Lot Like Love

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“Thanks for coming,” you could hear your mother say softly to someone you didn't know. You were unsure if they were family, an old friend of the family, or even just someone who knew your grandfather who you'd never met before. There were a couple of aunts – great aunts – old, heavily perfumed ladies that weren't technically aunts and felt far removed from you, who you'd only see once every maybe 4 or 5 years. Maybe it was one of them.

“Thanks so much for being here today,” Your mother was operating on autopilot. She kind of had to, you thought. How else could she make it through this day? You felt guilty about not standing next to her, saying goodbye to all the guests, but there was not a chance you could host the way she could, speaking to everyone, smiling at everyone.

You just sat beside where she was standing by the door as people left, on a hard, cold church pew, and stared into space. You felt drained the way you feel drained after a huge cry, which, coincidentally, you’d just had. In front of a packed church too, which made it worse.

Your mother had written a beautiful letter to her father that she got to read up on the stand during the funeral, and she had done it without much show of emotion. All her words had been pronounced so clearly, no stutters or sobs got in the way of the back-row hearing it just as well as the front. When you'd gotten up to read a poem fitting for the occasion, you'd been a crying mess, voice high, needing to take breaks because your throat would close up completely - it was awful. And all those people staring at you, 75% per cent of them pairs of eyes you didn't know or recognize at all. None of them Joe's. You had vowed to yourself then that you'd never speak at a funeral again.

So, you kissed Joe yesterday. And then he had left shortly after. That didn't feel like enough to invite Joe to your grandfather's funeral the next morning, so you hadn't. Which was okay, your mother was there, and you know, other family members too. Not that you cared much about them, none were really in your life, but it was nice for them to pay their respects to your granddad.

When the last person had walked past your mother, she turned and came to sit down next to you. She sighed as she collapsed onto the bench, and you looked at her. She looked tired. Worse than you did. You just sat for a minute, empty stares into empty spaces.

“I don't want to go back to the store,” you said, slumping and resting your head on her shoulder.

“Then don't, take the day.” your mother suggested, but you shook your head.

“Anne's in there by herself now, running the ship. Not sure if she's doing it tightly, but, fingers crossed.” You lightly joked, crossing your fingers for effect, and it made your mother smile.

Up by the altar, you could see the pastor who had led the service, straightening some bits out, tidying the pieces of paper you'd left behind. Every move that was made, every little sound, was magnified by the acoustics of the building. You didn't like how cold churches felt, but you really appreciated the history and art of them. The vastness and grandiosity of them. You felt like the empty space between the pews and the tall ceilings was filled up with floating bubbles of nice thoughts and memories and even prayers for your granddad; all things people who had just left the venue had left behind. You weren't religious, but there was something nice about being sat in the back, letting those bubbles slowly come down and land on you, with your mother by your side.

“Hey, remember when I called you that one day about the actor that used the toilet at the store?” you suddenly thought of it, and wanted to take your mother's mind off the heavy and emotional morning you'd just struggled through. She could probably use some fun news, and didn't you carry around just the most fun bit of news right now?

“I met him,” your mother said, and it took you a second to let her words register inside your mind. You shot eyes at her, confused, and saw she was smiling. The only time your mother and Joe had been in the store at the same time, she had been stuck behind the till helping you out. There was not a chance that they had met that day. You would’ve seen.

“When?!” your voice was unexpectedly ear-piercing as it bounced from the tall walls. You instantly regretted saying it so loudly, seeing the pastor up front look at you.

“A while ago, I think... couple of weeks? At the bakery,” she said, like that really explained anything.

You sat up, straightening your back and you turned your body towards her as you waited for your mother to explain herself further. Had your mother forgotten the excitement in your voice when you had told her of your first meeting with Joe? How it had been so embarrassing that he had caught you falling to the floor after you thought he had left? How later you had explained that he had become somewhat of a friend to the store, that he would sometimes just be there for half a day? Why would she refrain that she actually met him in a fucking bakery?!

“Mum!” you impatiently hissed when she didn't seem to want to clarify herself at all. She took your arm and linked it with hers, forcing you to move back to sit next to her again, shoulders touching.

“It was after I helped that whole afternoon,” your mother made sure to whisper as she eyed the pastor who now seemed to be slowly making his way down the pews. You were likely going to be asked to leave if you weren't quiet, and your mother didn't want to step out back into the real world just yet. “There was a woman who had asked you for help twice, and you hadn't even acknowledged her because you were daydreaming, staring at someone. That's how I knew what he looked like.”

You scoffed. You could've googled, you thought.

You remember someone asking for help when you had noticed Joe and your granddad talking in those chairs. Had they tried to get your attention several times? Surely not. You definitely would've noticed.

“After your granddad and I left - you know that bakery that's opposite the flower shop granddad used to get sunflowers from? He was adamant we'd go inside, even though it was the end of the day, and nothing would be freshly baked.”

“And then Joe,” your mother elongated his name and looked at you as if she was peering over reading glasses. “Was in there, waiting to be helped.” You think back and remember how Joe had come back into the store later that day with baked goods that you shared when he had helped you restock the shelves.

“He said hi to granddad. Very polite.”

Joe was very polite, she was right. Then your mum leant into you slightly, as if the next thing she was going to say was a secret. “Granddad told him he would always get you pastries on Friday afternoons when you'd come visit after school, and I thought it was such a weird thing to say to someone practically a stranger, but Joe then added four croissants to his order.”

Your mother might as well have slapped you right across the face. The emotional memory you'd completely forgotten about hit you hard, combined with new information about Joe and your granddad scheming behind your back, your brain short-circuited.

Friday afternoon pastries with your grandfather. You’d look forward to it all week. You were only little, but he'd always have enough to feed at least four adults, you were sure. Different types of everything, but always two croissants. One for him, and one for you. It wasn’t until much later that you realized it was because your mother always had the late shift on Fridays and wouldn’t be able to cook, and your granddad had to work at the store, also not able to cook you a proper meal. It was a predicament that had morphed into a wonderful core childhood memory, one that you cherished with your entire being. You could feel tears pickle in the corners of your eyes as you tried to remember details, feelings, smells- anything to keep the memories fresh and live in your brain. You leant your head back to rest on your mother’s shoulder and thought you didn’t spend enough time with her. Her stopping by the store didn’t count as spending time, really.

“We didn't actually introduce ourselves,” your mother continued, and you couldn't help but chuckle. “Sounds like him,” you commented through a smile and a sniff. “When he left, it was our turn and dad said he didn’t even really want anything.” Whenever your mother would refer to him as ‘dad’ you knew that for a second you weren’t her daughter, but just a person she was talking to about her father. “He just asked for old bread to feed ducks and pigeons at the park.” You frowned a little. Had he just wanted to go into the bakery because he’d seen Joe in there? You’d never know the answer, you thought, which was frustrating but, in a way, it felt nice to have an empty page in this book just so you could fill it in for yourself with whatever story you so pleased.

How did he do this? Your grandfather wasn't even bloody alive anymore, and yet, he had managed to make your heart feel so full in this moment. As if it was him, comforting you at his own funeral, and it felt ironic.

“We kissed yesterday.” You confessed then, and your felt your mother squeeze your arm tight to her body.

“Was it good?” your mum asked, and you elbowed into her side as an answer, the both of you grinning.

“Seriously, was it?” she coaxed, and it made you laugh out loud – too loud for inside a church.

“We’re in a church, mother!” you exclaimed theatrically. “Yea let’s leave before they add silly things onto the bill. Things like noise pollution,” your mother said after seeing strict eyes at her from the pastor who was now walking towards you in large steps. “Fifty extra quid for disturbing baby Jesus,” you joked, following her out.

You had dropped your mother off at home, promised each other to see each other more, and she told you to slow down – you knew what she meant – before making your way over to work. Stepping inside you were confronted with an odd situation, a scene you couldn’t initially make a whole lot of sense of, and Joe’s facial expression absolutely didn’t help. He seemed a little annoyed.

There were people in the store. Two guys, men you didn’t know, sitting in the armchairs. Customers. They were in their jackets, backpacks on the floor, a bag of shopping in between them. One of them was sat back and calmly reading the back of a book he’d picked up from the display in the window. The other was perched up on the very edge of the seat, elbows on knees, headphones on with his full attention on the phone he was holding.

Joe, as it so happened, was stood behind the till, pen in hand, writing things onto a sheet that, suspiciously, looked a lot like an inventory list. Like he worked there. Which, you know, he very much didn’t.

When you’d walked in, the bell had rung loudly and Joe hadn’t looked up initially, too busy with… work? But when he did look up, you saw his eyes soften and you noticed the littlest twinge in his face that showed empathy. Anne must’ve said you weren’t there because of the funeral. Speaking of…

Just as you were about to wonder where Anne was exactly, she walked out of the breakroom.

“You’re back.” She stated. No emotion, no smiles, no excitement. Just a fact.

“Yep.” You said back, your face still wrinkled in confusion. Anne picked up on it.

“His seat was taken,” Anne said, and you knew she was trying to explain to you why Joe was behind the till doing her job, but it didn’t feel like a seat being taken meant that Joe now had to work in the store. Sure, Anne was strange. But this seemed a little too far of a stretch.

“I had to poop.” she then deadpanned.

Ah.

“Got it.”

--- part two read Like A Poem here ---

The Taglisted: @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @bagelofthelord67 @nobody-000 @lluviamg06 - add yourself

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #fanfiction #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #like a poem #a lot like love #joe x reader #joseph x reader #requested

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themultifandomgal · 1 year

Text

Antonio- Moving In Together

"Dad where does YN want this?" I hear Diego ask

"Errm bathroom. She's in there sorting out the cupboards" just then Diego appears with a small box

"Thank you. Just pop it on the floor" I say. Once Diego has gone I open it up and take out my period pads and tampons putting them in the cupboard with more of my toiletries. My phone begins ringing from downstairs. Before I have chance to get up I hear foot steps running and Eva comes in holding it in her hands

"It's Jay" she tells me. I take the phone and answer it

"Hey"

"Ive got the unit you wanted, but I couldn't get it assembled"

"Ok don't worry, I'm sure we're will figure out how to build it" I walk out of the bathroom

"Dad mums here!" Diego shouts and I make my way downstairs to see Antonio opening up the door

"I've got to go. Laura's here for the kids"

"I'll be over in 10 with the unit"

"Thanks" I hung up and smile at Laura but she looks me up and down. She mainly stares at my stomach

"I'm not pregnant if that's what your wondering" I say crossing my arms

"Only reason Antonio would be having you move in"

"Laura" Toni warns her

"It's ok Toni don't worry, I'm not here to cause any drama. Just want to say goodbye to Eva and Diego" the kids both give me a hug. I say my goodbyes then leave Antonio to deal with his ex.

"You alright?" Antonio asks walking into our now shared bedroom while I'm folding my clothes

"Yeah I'm fine"

"I'm sorry about Laura. I told her she had no right to be questioning our relationship"

"Like I said, I'm ok" I sigh "she's your kids mom. She's got ever right to be cautious of me, how long will I be here? If we have a baby will we spend more time with our child and not Eva and Diego. She's just being protective of them and hopefully when she realises that I'm in it for the long hall she will except me"

"Your amazing you know" Antonio smiles wrapping his arms around me, I wrap my arms around his neck "if the rolls were reversed I'm not sure I'd be a cool about this all"

"I've see so many children suffer because of parents aren't getting along. I wouldn't want that for yours. All bad mouthing each other will do is effect the children"

"I love you YN"

"I love you as well" I kiss Antonio before we're rudely interrupted by Jay bringing my makeup unit "I best go and help Jay"

"I'll help Jay. You go grab us some food"

"You sure you want me to leave you alone with one of my brothers, and arguably the most protective one out of the two?" I raise an eyebrow at Toni

"Babe I work with him and we have never had a problem"

"Yeah you work with him. Your off work right now, this is personal time, so he's going to be in big brother mode"

"I'll be back ok with Jay"

"Your funeral" I raise my hands and walk out of the bedroom and down the stairs "I'm going for food. Please don't kill each other" I warn Jay before grabbing some money and leaving the house.

I return home with take out to a quiet house

"Hello? Please tell me your both alive" I joke walking into the kitchen "Jay? Toni?" I place down the food then head yelling in the living room. I follow the noise to see my brother and boyfriend watching football. I notice the the makeup unit spread across the floor "you boys want a beer after all the hard work you've done?"

"Sorry YN. We couldn't figure it out" I roll my eyes at Jay and grab the instructions off the coffee table and start looking at then also getting confused

"You think Kelly will know how to build this?"

"Already text him" Jay tells me "he's coming over tomorrow. Now shhhh we're watching the game"

"You boys and your football seriously" I shake my head and go back to the kitchen and grab 3 plates and plate up the food. I bring their food to them before grabbing my own and sitting next yo Antonio also watching the game.

#antonio dawson #antonio dawson x reader #antonio dawson imagine #Antonio Dawson x oc #Antonio Dawson x yn #Antonio Dawson x you #one chicago imagine #one chicago #chicago pd

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topsyturvy-turtely · 1 year

Text

OTP challenge - day 15

here it is! part 2/2! (because i simply suck at keeping myself short) -> link to part 1

[link to day 14]

TW: detailed description of needles and stitches. knife wound.

15: teaching each other how to do something

(pt. 2/2)

[Last sentence from part 1: But soon this something, that danced in the room to the tone they had played together, was interrupted by the thunder of upstairs-running kid's feet.]

***

That was last week. Tonight John had invited Sherlock over for dinner with him. Rosie had a movies night with her aunt Harry. (John seriously wasn't sure who whorshipped whom more. These two were soulmates, no joking.)

The doctor was determined to make Sherlock a nice proper meal. He didn't cook often, but he ought to get better at it, he can't keep ordering takeout with a kid at home. What if Rosie will never eat anything homemade?! That could end up into an embarrassing situation at a friend's house...

Lost in his thoughts he prepared his 'easy but fancy meal' (no, he hasn't googled this). He had ended up with Lasagna. The bechamél sauce was the difficult part about it, but he was confident it would work out. He heard the bell ring and - wiping his hands on the ridiculous apron Harry got him (it says 'BAMF' in pink, purple and blue colors on it. According to her that means 'bad ass motherfucker', which he thought was absurd, but, well, he didn't wanna get his shirt dirty) - he went to open the door for a very early Sherlock. Who has apparently just been in a massive fight.

"Bloody hell, Sherlock! What happened to you?"

"Idiot brought a knife to a gun fight. Still managed to cut me however, that imbecile."

"They cut you? How deep? Where? Let me see.", John Watson was in immediate doctor mode.

"Not that deep.", Sherlock said waving his hnd dismissively.

"Oh no! We are not doing this! Go sit down somewhere, I'll get my doctor's kit.", John commanded and went into the bathroom to wash his hands and get the kit.

When he came back, Sherlock was sitting on the couch, no coat and jacket on, limps spread out around him, right hand to his side, the blood running through his fingers.

"Jesus. Sherlock.", John was frozen for a second, anxiously staring at his friend, regretting he couldn't protect him anymore whenever he decided to run after a serial killer.

Then the feeling faded and with his usual professional tone he told Sherlock to take his shirt off. The great idiot detective sighed but obeyed. Meanwhile John put on surgical gloves and poured disinfectant onto a cotton ball. When he looked up and stared at his friend's freed stomach he gulped. Not because he hasn't seen worse, but because it was Sherlock who was the injured. What if he wouldn't get away so easily next time? John wasn't sure how he would take another one of Sherlock's funerals. A real one this time. Internally John shook himself and focused on his task.

"I'm gonna clean the wound and see if it needs stitches now.", John told his patient. When he started disinfecting, he heard Sherlock take in a sharp breath. That, and a few seconds of cleaning, made him realize, "Sorry, mate, but the wound is deep enough for sutures. I'm gonna call an amb-"

"No!", Sherlock immediately protested and his face was a mask of pain. "It's you or nothing at all."

John stared at him, he had done that often before, back in the days, but how could Sherlock still insist on John stitching him up? With a resigned sigh, because he knew there was no reason in arguing, he took off his gloves. "Alright, I'll get you some ice. It will help with the pain and the swelling."

When he came back, he sat back down and put on a fresh pair of gloves. "Listen. I hate you getting injured, and I am honored you let me have you stitch up but you will have to learn to do this yourself. I am not available 24/7 and I can't risk you passing out while having a fever dream from the blood loss, simply because you refuse to seek medical attention like a child. So you gonna watch, listen, hell- observe while I am doing this. You got me?"

Sherlock had a neutral facial expression, but stared deep into John's eyes. "Yes, sir."

"You already know who is in charge here, that's a good start.", John smirked. Then their eyes met and just how it always has been, there was a connection between the two men which took actual willpower to break. When they did, John started explaining, "Step one: sanitize and examine the wound. Deeper than half an inch? Sutures are needed.

"Step two: if the wound is swollen, ice it.", John nodded at the ice on Sherlock's stomach, while he disinfected the needle and thread.

"This will provide a numbness as well. Helpful, when there's no local anasthetics available."

"Step three, actually- step zero: wash hands, and wear gloves to prevent infection. Always wash your hands and wear gloves, hear me?", John fixed his gaze on Sherlock. The detective was determined to show no pain but he couldn't fool John. A simple nod satisfied John.

"Good. Step three: Disinfect needle and thread and the rest of the equipment. I use a needle holder, to ensure no infections will occur. Holding it with your hand may easily cause them." John was glad Sherlock had his voice to focus on. That he had given that genius brain something to fixate on, to save into a room or a file or whatever in his mind palace with every little detail. Because the stitches - even with the ice - are gonna add another pain level.

"Step four: with your forceps" - John grabbed them - "check the skin and determine what needs to be done.", John did as he was explaining, wishing he had a mask to further protect Sherlock from a possible infection.

"Step five: punctuate the skin and make sure the needle penetrates the skin up to 0.5cm, exit on the other side of the wound. The needle needs to be held perpendicular to the skin and you rotate your hands clockwise.", when the needle sank into Sherlock's skin, his patient groaned in pain. "For this you'll need to release the needle holder by pulling it right with your ring finger-", John did as he was explainig. "-and pushing it left with your thumb.

"Step six: hold the needle holder and pull the thread. Leave 3-5cm on the side of the wound. Step seven: hold the thread with your right - in your case left - hand and wrap it around the tip of the needle holder. Catch hold of the thread on the left of the wound using the needle holder. Make the wrapped thread pass out of the needle holder and tie it around the loose thread and then cut the excess thread.", John was glad Sherlock was a genius because when he had first learned this, he still had had a million questions.

Satisfied John looked at his work. "This was it - you had made a secure knot. Now, step eight: repeat this process by moving up the wound about 0.6cm to perform the next suture."

Sherlock was making pained noises while John performed step eight. "Do you think you can focus on my hands and describe what I am doing? Might be a good distraction.", the doctor suggested.

Sherlock gritted his teeth, nodded and did as he was told. Indeed, his pained sounds decreased and his observation-mode was turned on.

After a while John said, "There. Sutures are done. Now the final step is putting a sterilized pad and bandage on. Here, sit up."

Sherlock did and John wrapped the bandage around Sherlocks rib cage; tight but not too tight. His breath gave Sherlock's skin, that had broken out into a sweat during the suturing process, goosebumps. John followed them up... over side, arm, chest, nipple. John licked his lips. Then he cleared his throat and stood up. "I'll look for a shirt that will fit you. You hardly can wear that one over there." John pointed at the ripped and blood covered dressing shirt on the ground.

"Your clothing choice is a rather interesting one, too.", Sherlock countered, a hint of a raised eyebrow visible on his carefully controlled face.

For a second John was confused, but when he looked down at himself he remembered his 'BAMF' apron... John's eyes widened.

"Fucking hell!", he swore. John ran into a kitchen and already saw smoke coming through the oven. "THE LASAGNA!"

A bunch of further curses escaped John's mouth while he took the burnt piece of pasta out. Sherlock followed him into the kitchen. He leaned on the door frame crossing his arms over his bare chest. "Apparently bisexual Badass Motherfuckers can't cook.", he stated.

Waving around with a kitchen towel and opening a window to get rid of the smoke, John was busy with other things. But when Sherlock's words sank in he slowly turned around. "I'm sorry- what?", he asked incredulously.

Sherlock nodded at John's garment. "Your apron. It's in the bisexual pride colors."

With oven mittens on, palms up, John stared down at his apron. "Oh. Oh, Harry that absolute-"

"-genius lesbian with her evidently accurate observations regarding sexuality?", Sherlock finished, pushing himself off the wall. He slowly walked over to John.

"Hold on one second! How many times did i say I am not-"

"-Gay? No, but bisexual you are, my dear Watson.", with that Shelock stood in front of him, his upper body only wearing a bandage John had put on him only a moment ago.

The blogger shook his hands in denial. "I- I am not..."

But he didn't get further because Sherlock pressed his lips against his and John forgot what he wanted to say. Soft, cupid bowed lips, rested against chapped, thin lips. Until John pulled back and stared at a rather precarious Sherlock. And without another thought he ripped his oven mittens off and clasped his hands around this face, this familiar beautiful face and kissed Sherlock again. He was moving on pure instinct, none of this was his brain's doing, it was all his body's. It knew what it had wanted for years and now wouldn't let the opportunity slip. They kissed and gasped and pulled and moaned. Until Sherlock hissed in pain, because John had eagerly pulled him close and it hurt his freshly sutured wound.

John loosened his grip and they let air drift between their bodies again. "I- you-", John tried.

"Harry and I might have a point?", Sherlock said with cocky grin.

John sighed, laughed, and let his forehead drop into his hand. "Yeah. I suppose you might."

They caught their eyes and then started giggling, like they did after their first case.

Sherlock's gaze fell on the burnt lasagna behind John. "Takeout?"

"Starving", John replied with a soft but genuine smile on his face.

---

this time i have to thank my lovely friend (lol are we even friends?!) @safedistancefrombeingsmart for 1. telling me that John can't cook and should teach Sherlock how to make proper stitches instead. And 2. for her genius photoshopoed bi-colored BAMF sweatshirt. This oneshot would have been a lot less fun without you. Thank you, smartin'! ;)

this part required a lot of research (as i am an absolute no-hoper at anything medical). i must admit i partly directly quoted from the site. check it out if you're interested!

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed 💚) @catlock-holmes @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @boredsushi @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @7arantellgrrl @ssmeowl123 @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @pansherlock @the-smol-bean-libby-blog @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @almosttinycowboy @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee

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fleet-admiral-hiba · 1 year

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Howdy! It's been awhile! I was wondering if your asks were open because I've come with a request. Not a yandere one but I think it will be good. May I request Charlotte Smoothie with a fem darling who had been with her and almost wed to when the darling dies(Killed or died either way). Then several years later, a woman arrives at the island, declaring herself to be the darling. Even knowing stuff that only Smoothie and her darling would know. Thank you and I love your work as always! take care!

Howdy, dear. My ask are always open, though I'm not as active as when on holidays. Anyway, I love this ask so much

LIFE ETERNAL

Everything was going on smoothly. Life was good, you were there and she was happy. You two loved each other so much it made the kids wonder and hope for a love like yours, and it made the elders pleased to see someone of their family so happy.

You were a ray of sunshine, your cheery attitude had rubbed off on everybody.

They all loved you. That's why it hurt even more.

You two were out at sea when it happened. An ambush made the boat rock, Smoothie and her crew fighting the intruders off. You ran to safety, as per request, but a sword pierced your lower abdomen,making you fall. The boat was rocking so wildly you were catapulted out of the ship.

Unfortunately, your fiancée was there to witness everything. She rushed, but she didn't make it. Her hands moments away from yours.

Your body was swallowed by the seas below, and it vanished.

She eliminated everyone brutally, before falling to her knees, crying in despair. She knew that, had it been any other situation, it would have been unbecoming of a sweet commander, but this was her soon to be wife. They were going to see the dress, just to add insult to the injury.

She returned home, the news already been heard, and they held a solemn funeral, to pay their respects to a fallen family member. It hurt, they all cried, but they swore to keep your memory alive.

She went back to work,to keep her mind off the pain. But everything reminded her of you.

Couldn't you hear calling your name out, my dear?

Two years passed and she was starting to come to terms with her loss. The land,though, never gained back the shine it had with you.

She was preparing for the upcoming wedding when a chess soldier ran to the room. She was busy enjoying a nice fruity punch when she heard the words, "Ma'am, a woman out there is looking for you. She looks familiar, but we aren't positive of that. She's asking for you" panted the soldier.

She ran, hope still burning inside her. Maybe after all this time, you may have survived.

She ran outside and she saw you. Her eyes were wide, shock etcher in her face. Could it be?

"Hello darling, it's nice to see you too" you said,mirth dancing in your eyes. She wanted to believe that, but she had to confirm it was really you and not a sick joke.

"Tell me, if you so claim to be my beloved, what is one thing you cannot absolutely stand?" She questioned, waiting.

"Well, apart from caviar, I hate when you talk bad about your body. You know how I feel about hearing the woman I love doubting her undeniable beauty" you stated, confidence flowing through every word.

"What's the next wedding that will happen here?" She asked, knowing very well that only family members, as of now knew about the wedding, "The last one should have been ours, but the next will be that of Pudding with Vinsmoke Sanji. For political and tactical reasons of course, given the advanced technology the Vinsmoke have, with the subsequent elimination of Sanji, if Pudding or Mama so desire" you finished, before having the time to open up your mouth,you were being swopped up.

"You're back" she said, voice trembling ever so slightly, "Yes, love, I'm back. I'm sorry I went missing but I had quite the adventure" you said, before being put down.

"I need to tell every-" you stopped her, "there will be no need, by now I'm sure everyone knows there will be another wedding soon. Your guards did the job for you" you said laughing, while she stared lovingly at you.

Later that night, while they all celebrated your return, with hugs and gifts and scolding, you told your story.

"When the sword pierced me and I fell overboard, I was taken in by the Red hair pirates. Well, they pretty much saved my life. And it was thanks to them that I could make my way back here. It took so long because of the gravity of the injury. But they have been gracious host and they didn't think twice about helping, especially after I told them that my wife, the daughter of Big Mama was soon going to marry me. They were really nice people. They even accompanied me on land before going back" just your luck to be saved by another emperor, huh?

"Well, it seems we have to send a gift to Shanks, to show our gratitude" said Katakuri, happy to have you back.

"I thought about the perfect gift while coming back, so...Smoothie, you are hurting my ribs" giggling,you pried open her hands , taking them into your own.

"He adores having parties, so we could send him some of the best Sake we can find. Those big bottles would be perfect" you finally managed to finish the sentence, before being smothered again by the younger ones.

You spent the day after in a kind of edgy state. Not because you weren't happy to be home, but because the kids could be quite crafty in ambushing you with hugs. And you really wanted your ribs intact, or the dress wouldn't fit.

"Anana, darling, put the knife down. I'm home and I'm safe, you don't have to threaten every person you see. Instead, come with me. We have to look for the rings" and slowly but surely you dragged the little girl to the store, while keeping her knife safely tucked away.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece headcanons #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #charlotte smoothie

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royalwriteroftheuniverse · 2 years

Text

A summer wedding p.1

An insane amount of Angst heart break

A little fluf if you can call it fluff, a character calling herself names NO self harm though Ari is a warning in himself.

P.s. a jury is a performance final for musicans reblogs are welcome no posting or publishing online or print

Rachel and David's wedding was beautiful. In begining of it I imagined it was me and Ari. I loved seeing him in his suit and standing rhere next to the groom. Hair just so. Posture just so. He even mouthed I love you." And in reply I said "I love you too."

He looked so hansome I hoped one day maybe we'd have a summer wedding

In the reception. I didn't mind being away from him as the wedding party was sat together. He had come to me and we were dancing together. He first came to me when they put on Ella firzgerald's Our Love is Here to Stay. Which now seems like like a cruel joke. Even more that he wispered the lyrics in my ear. I don't even know what happened. How it happened it just erruptrd. Like mt. Vesuvius. They didn't have a word for volcano before that did you know that? And I dont even have a word to describe what happened.

We had a big fight... huge!

Bad. I was crying. He was crying. Things weren't thrown but we were banging on things.

The poor dog, well our dog, technically his but I take him when hes been on assignment hut he hasn't left lately. Anyway our Pup was just standing there his head like a tennis ball as we went back and forth. Doors were being slammed. I dont think I ever saw him cry before. I've never seen him. Ari never cries. I mean never. Not at funeral of other agents, Not even after the that custody agreement or lack there of hurt him knowing his ex wife had full custody of Maya and Maya was being taken to live in Austria with her Mother... and Ari could do nothing but hope to see Maya whenever he could fit it in. And I was more than supportive. I didn't care if Ari had gone to see Maya but he iften brought me with him but I loved staing at the hotel so they could have time. Unless Maya specifically asked for me to come and sometimes she did.

He never cries but that night he did.

I don't even know what what happened just that did. But I waited. To give him his space. The air still felt charged the next day. I left him a note in th kitchen. "I'm in the guest bedrrom and I taped it to the microwave he had to see that. But he didn't say a word that day. At lesst not to me. So I waited another day to say something but that was it I couldnt wait 2 days. It seemed he couldnt either.

"I'm sor- ry"

"I want to break up"

We both said at he same time but I had the last syllable. Like the other night I had th le last word but he slamed the dooor last.

"Ok I mean not ok i mean im not-" I sighed and took a breath.

"If you want to break up. I, " I breathed in. "It's not something I want but you obviously have a right to call it off. But I still want to apologize first. Before I go I mean."

He said "Ok" so calm so cool so colleected that I almost completely lost it. Ari...was like he didn't care maybe he didn't. Days ago we were go happy laughing and kissing and just dancing looking into eachothers' eyes. We were so happy.

"I've just been under a lot of stress and I took it out of your and that wasn't fair of me, at all. It was stupid. And I'm sorry. I should've appologized that night or the next morning. I just thought i should give you time to not exactly cool off but we were both emotional I thought I was doing the right thing by giving you a day."

"I still want to-"

"That's fine. I'll respect that. Can I um have a few day to get mt stuff together. Which guest room- I mean I can stay in a guest room right? MeanIfYouWantMeToICanGoToAHotel ThisWholeThingIsMyFaultI shouldGoToAHotel.

He reached out and I immediately went silent. He reached out like he's done so many times before but his hand cupped my face it veared at the last second, falling on my shoulder not on my face.

"Breathe. You can take the main."

"No really I don't I should I-"

"Take it." He said wih a nod of encouragement.

"OK"

I stood there. Breaghing heavily. My heart beating out of my chest. Tears I was blinking back. I didn't know what to do. It was like a faceoff. Then he move first. I swollowed hard-I thought he was going to kiss me on the forehead but no, I mearly felt his hot breath on my forehead as he got a little too close steping around me.

I don't know if he was being cruel and teasing me or of my maybe it was for himself, not completely letting go of me yet. I get it it takes time if I do at all.

I spent the rest of the day outside mostly crying, I put somethings together sobbing and that night but when I came across rhe Star of David he gave me before he left on a mission for two and a half weeks, the first mission he'd been on since we had been together. I was so scared and he told me he promise he'll come back to get it, come back to me. Holding it in my hand I

just lost it. And I never got my composure back

The poor pup, well not a pup but I call him pup. Had gone back and forth between the two of us, I suppose as he had dissapeared for some time and then came back. I don't exactly know where my now ex was. I only came inside if I didn't see him or come out of the bedroom if he wasn't

I only stepped out of the room if I knew he wasnt around. Peaking out quietly making sure I didnt hear his voice or his feet or anything to things easier on both of us.

I fet bad taking anything to eat or drink. None of it was for me anymore. So I just took a bag of chips and a sleeve of crackers and a bottle of water.

But he has those big bottles so that'd last me a while. But, that night...that night was worse. I had tried to orginize my things but I did what I could do until it became too much and I just collapsed in tears. Crying so hard and so much giving myself a migraine.

I had no one to call, no one to talk to. I didn't have very many friends and I know the ones I did wouldn't care to talk to me about this at all. They were mearly serface friendships. Hair makeup gossip shit not like this. Although I had talked to them about our relationship, this wasn't something they'd ever help me with. His friends were nicer to me but I wasn't going to go there. So that night I called my own cellphone left myself a rediculousy long voicemail I'd deleate in the morning.

"I can't believe I was so fucking stupid. I shouldn't have just done what I normally do, I know I said I wouldn't but i didnt and then this happens. I just I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. I don't even feel right taking some water or food. had some crackers some chips so I think that'd be ok. I mean I know I should but it just doesn't feel right to eat more.

I have 3 essays due on the same day each 10 pages long. My jury to prepare for and Im still haveing trouble with pronouning some German, I planned to ask Ari for more help he was good with a German accent. And then my boss wants me to put together some 22 odd powerpoint presentation together for him. My family is just ugh I feel like I'm drowning underwater eor being strangeled and now this. I want Ari back ll i know he could pul me out if the water- he always did. Now Im alone J want to quit everything and just live in a hole. Nothing is going right. Maybe in a few months after I recover from all this I can just hit the reset button and start over what I can and just whatever I can't, just screw it. I have to try to find a way to live with myself now. I mean I want to talk to him, to tell him that I don't want to do this. I don't want to leave things like this I want to just fight for us but it's what he wants. Who am I to just say "no" that's selfish of me horrible of me. I mean if its the otherway around I wouldn't want him forcing anything on my or feeling like Im trying to. I hate myself so much right now and theres nothing I can do to stop it or to feel better. I'm a horrible person for just causing all this. He was crying I've never seen him genuinely that sad or that mad before it wasn't some movie or scene he was right infront if me and it was because of me. I just feel like I lost everything. Like I lost myself. No, It's true he is everything to me. If I lost him I -," I scoff at myself if I lost him who am I freaking kidding I who did lose him, I lost everything and I have no one to blame but myself." I sobbed into my pillow.

"I just want Ari. He means everything to me and I just feel like I'm worthless peice of shit for making him cry. He never does I can't imagine how much I hurt him for him to cry. I'll never forget that. I just feel like everything is numb because... I lost him for good... the one good thing I had in the life my only is gone."

In some wacked out tripped up vision in my mind he was sitting right outside the door listening to me pour my heart out. listening to me cry for hours. And he'd give me another chance realizing I'm punishing myself far more than he ever could. Or that

Maybe he'd come in and wake me up or stroke my hair or something like he used to do to wake me up sometimes I dont know if it always would wake me up since he'd say i tried to wake you. But he'd come in and I'd say that. "I don't expect to be forgiven. I just want another chance. To A chance to again to make up for it. To say let me show you I'm worth something...anything...I don't know I don't even think he could look at me. You should've seen him when he said ok so cool and calm and collected. He hates me. So much. I don't blame him. Even I hate me."

I cried myself to sleep.

I don't know how long I slept for or what time it even was when there was a knock on the door. It wasnt quiet but it was quiet enough for me to not be sure if I heard it or not. It had gotten louder and louder again. I finally got out if bed shuffling to the door and I turned the handle but I stopped, giving him time to leave if he wanted to.

I opened the door and nothing. There was nothing. Great I'm imagining, hearing things now. I happened to look down and

There was a sandwich with a note "I noticed no food was missing. Eat. Please."

He made me a sandwich. It was nice of him considering everything.

Ari's P.O.V.

"Sammy you should have heard her,"To be continued....

Tag list

@sparklybarbarianninja @hawkeyes-queen @patzammit @sapphire-rogers @nana1000night

#avengers #steve rogers #ransom drysdale #chris evans x plus size reader #steve rogers fanfiction #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson x female reader #chris evans #chris evans characters #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x reader #nomad steve #johnny storm x y/n #johnny storm x you #soft!ransom drysdale

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curse-04 · 1 year

Text

Written for @hinnyfest

Prompt 1: First I Love You

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A/N: This scene is from a prologue to a fic I was thinking of writing. It changes HBP a little bit, and it changes DH completely. But mostly it's an After The War fic that covers the time from Dumbledore's Funeral till the time Harry and Ginny get married (so about 3 or 4 years).

This scene isn't necessarily based on the prompt, but it does fit the requirement, and I couldn't think of anything else that others weren't already doing.

Also, for context, Harry and Ginny get together in March instead of in May in this story, and Ginny is born in September 1980 (to avoid the Trace).

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"We need to talk," Harry said.

Ginny looked at him and nodded. Unable to do anything else but accept the fact that he would tell her that they would have to break up because he, Ron, and Hermione weren't returning next year. He hadn't told her why, and she hadn't bothered to ask. Hermione did tell her that they were going on a trip though, which made absolutely no sense to Ginny.

He stood up and offered her an arm. She linked hers through it, and he led her away from the Funeral and toward their most frequented spot near the shore of the Black Lake where he cast a Muffliato around them as they sat down.

"I've been keeping something from you," he said, playing with the hem of his robes.

"What is it?" She asked after a few moments passed in silence.

He looked her in the eye, seemingly weighing his decision before he nodded to himself.

Then, he told her everything.

The Meetings with Dumbledore, Tom Riddle's past, the fact that Dumbledore had suspected a possibility that he would not live past this year, all the Spells Dumbledore had taught him as a result that he hadn't even told Ron and Hermione about, the Horcruxes, and he finished it up with telling her about the Diary, and what it actually was.

She listened attentively, grateful that he was revealing such a deep secret to her. At least, until she heard about the Diary, which was when her face had lost all color, and she had to fight herself to not throw up.

Five minutes later, it seemed that she had won the fight against her body, and she leaned against a rock. "Got any other Erumphent Horns you want to drop on me?" She asked in a joking manner, but for the first time, Harry missed it.

His face closed up, revealing not a hint of emotion, but when he spoke, his voice was filled with regret. "I'm sorry," he said, looking at the floor. "I shouldn't have told you that."

"Harry," she said, placing her hand over his arm. "I was just joking. I don't mind keeping your secrets."

"There's still so much you don't know," he said, shaking his head.

"That's alright," she said, trying to sound consoling. "You can tell me in your own time. Or not tell me at all."

Harry shook his head. "You deserve the truth," he said, looking her in the eyes.

"Why?"

"Because I found out something very recently," he said. "And… erm, well… I love you."

Her mouth dropped open in shock. She had never once doubted Harry's feelings over the course of their three month old relationship, but she'd never expected him to come out and say it like that. At least not now.

All of that, however, didn't stop her heart from melting into a puddle of goo, nor did it stop the smallest, most lovesick smile from forming on her face.

"I love you more than I have ever loved anyone," he continued, looking back down at the ground again. "Dumbledore always told me that my ability to Love was my greatest strength. I always thought he was just being a barmy old man. But then you and I got together, and everything was- everything is… better. You make me happy, and I know this is a selfish ask, but I don't want to let you go- let us go," he gestured between them.

"What are you saying?" She asked softly, hoping she wasn't pushing too much.

He took a deep breath. "Will you come with me?" He asked her, biting his lip and finally meeting her eyes

"On the… trip that you, Ron, and Hermione are going on?" She asked.

He blinked at her phrasing. "It's not a trip," he said. "We're going to go find these… things, and destroy them."

"Do you know how?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I'll tell you that later, though. Along with Ron and Hermione."

"And do they know you want me to come?" Ginny asked.

"Hermione doesn't," Harry began, grimacing. "Ron seemed to know I'd try and pull something like this. But he didn't seem to mind the idea if the lack of punches he threw at me were any indication."

Ginny's eyebrows rose in disbelief. "He has matured, I'll have you know," Harry said, smirking at her.

"I know," she said, fully meaning it. Ron truly had 'grown up' after the Death Eaters had invaded Hogwarts. "It just surprised me is all."

"Yeah," Harry said, smiling. "Surprised me too if I'm being honest."

"You're sure about this? All of this?" She asked.

"Very," Harry answered. "I need you, Gin. And I know you can help, if you choose to come."

"Well then, count me in, Captain Potter," she said.

He blinked at her. "Really? You… don't want time to think about it or anything?" He asked, sounding like he really didn't want to.

She gave him an honest answer anyway. "The thing is Harry," she said, scooting closer to him. "I love you, too. Have done for over… well, half my life, really. And if I can help you bring Tom down, do you really think I wouldn't do so?"

He shook his head no, and it looked like that pretty much sealed the deal for him, so she stood up, offering him a hand. "What will you tell your parents?" He asked, allowing her to pull him up.

"I've got a month to think of something," she said, shrugging. She only hoped she would be able to find something believable.

"I'm glad to have you on my side then," Harry said softly, cupping her face and placing a soft kiss on her lips.

"Glad to be there, Harry," she whispered.

He smiled at her, a genuine smile that didn't seem like it was plastered onto his face, and just seeing that smile reinforced her decision. Tom Riddle wouldn't come between them. She wouldn't let him.

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This story won't be out till I finish my current WIP (A Song of Lightning and Fire). I do hope to write this someday, but till then… yeah.

#hinny #hinnyfest #harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #harry/ginny

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thedrunksoldier · 1 year

Text

youtube

Okay.

I'm perfectly aware that no one will ever read that and that what I'm doing is totally useless, but for my sake, I have to write this somewhere, to somehow, put my feelings and thoughts about this short film on Tumblr and let it rot.

So, if by mistake you happen to read that, I guess, I made the right choice to take the time to write it.

Anyway. Let's go.

I just saw this little short starring Sebastian Stan, purely because I'm desperate fanboy who can't stop himself to follow the projects he is in, and... I kinda like it. It's fun, short, unsettling and I really dig his friendship/duo with Miles, but that's not my point.

If I'm writting this is all about what the short is about. And all I can take from it is...

Terry is a child.

Okay.

Heart me out. (And for what's following, I'll ask you to lose 12min of your time to see it. Sorry.)

Everything about Terry makes me think that in this story, he is a child unable to do, at first, with his mom finding love, aka having to deal with a (weird, very weird) step-dad, a man that is taking care of him mom when, he, the "man" of the house is not here.

After all, it's a common trope in movies/books and all, that the only child/oldest one, takes the responsability of the missing parent, and here, Terry has the same position, role. He's coming back from home, looking worried about his mom, being all suspicious about his "friend" hanging too much with his mom, even having some kind of digusting at the thought that, this "friend" of his could be intimate with this mom aka taking the place of his father.

On that note, the throwing ball in the yard ? Really father/son like, and I know, must be the joke of the short, that the friend became the new step-father, but still, I can't imagine that it's all that innocent/simple.

The fact that the mom is mute can also be seen at a way to express the idea of a mother that don't want to distraught his son, already a little strange and uneasy about this man, a woman that doesn't really know how to handle her special son.

CAUSE YEAH. Him never really taking out his magician costume, even at home? Childs do that. I used to do that, to wear, at home, my favorite clothes, my "costume" just cause I refused to quit my act. And that's what Terry the Terrfic is. A child obsessed with magic who doesn't want to get out of his persona/character. Of his passion.

To follow that, I'll add that when he gets home (more on the next point) he only brings his magic stuff, and after all, while would he pack anything else? He has what he needs at home, in his room, so with him, he only carry the "important stuff", as any child would do. Clothes, toothbrushes and all... It's not essential at the eyes of a child, but his favorite toys/stuff? They'll carry it anywhere, everywhere, just like Terry.

About him getting home. Yeah. Looks like he's being drive out by a grand-parent, any parent that would have him for a week-end, for a week or even an afternoon. It's just a kid getting home. Not an adult man deciding it's time to be here for his old mom. (Once again, no luggages but only the magic stuff and his costume.)

Him having a tantrum in his room, with the stuffed bear, the sleeping with mom picture? Just a little boy being overwhelmed about losing his mom, feeling like he's getting overshadowed by the step-dad.

Little Terry. Ah. The "dead dove." More like, Terry breaking his fav toy that he is nursing or just an egg he is carrying, hoping that by some kind of magic, he'll make it hatch. I mean, even the funeral in the bathroom really echoed to that, to that point in childhood where we all had to let go of a pet/made up friend/favorite toy. (The goldfish cliché)

When Howard ask him about joining/helping, for his magic stuff? Looks like a thing any step-dad would do to get close to his step-son. And Terry saying it's a solo thing? I mean, kids sometime don't like to share. Especially with adults that they don't like. It's the same thing as don't wanting to play with them.

And I know, Terry is played by a grow man, BUT. HEAR ME OUT.

Terry is a unrealiable narrator. After all, everything we see, is from his POV, so as a watcher, all we can do, is trust him and, could it be that strange that he sees himself as a grow up? A man? While for his mom and Howard he's just... A kid. Little Terry not being really happy about his step-dad in the house, taking the place of his dad, making his mom happy... A kid that doesn't want to quit his persona of the terrific magician. A kid who need the whole short to accept that his mom is happy, that Howard is a fucking strange dude but one with good intentions ence the final scene with them doing a little show for the mom. (I MEAN. WHO DIDNT DO A LITTLE SHOW FOR MOM AS A KID JUST TO SHOW OFF? Okay maybe not on a Lonely Island song but still. You get my point.)

I know it's a flawed interpretation, a rushed one but, as someone who didn't sleep that much, and knows that this will be lost in the limbo of Tumblr, it's acceptable. I also know it's just a short film not meant to be taking that seriously, a bit strange and silly but... I don't know, it kinda woke up the art student I once was and... Well. Here we are, with me seing too much stuff in The Magic of Passion.

#sebastian stan #the magic of passion #short film #Youtube

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angst-fairygodmother · 1 year

Note

Hi! I'm so sorry this is late but if you're still taking requests, please could I request "new years kiss" with Derek and Ryne? I hope you are doing well 💖

A/N: Never too late darling. I take winter prompts as long as there's a chance of snow. 😊 Barely there, but I made it out for New Year’s Eve somewhere! Word Count: 1599 Rating: G - jealousy, references to Bad Samaritan, references to injury

She wasn't his girl. He had to remind himself of that for what felt like the thousandth time tonight, as he felt the heat of jealousy creeping up his neck. Just because they flirted all the time, and they'd gone to the club and been real close didn't mean she couldn't be dancing with someone else now, in her tight little dress that hugged her in all the right places and drove him crazy.

But he couldn't help it, any more than he could look away. It was like there was no one else at the party but Ryne. Ok, Ryne and the girl she was with, the one that wasn't him making her laugh - even far enough away that he couldn't actually hear it over the crowd he loved that laugh - and sliding an arm oh so casually around her shoulders. He knew that move, he'd used it on plenty of chicks before.

“Dude, quit staring,” Sean hissed in his ear, making him jump. Derek had been so distracted he hadn't even noticed the Irishman arrive. “It's getting weird, and since it's my cousin you're creeping on, I'm gonna have to kick your arse if it goes any longer.”

Derek scoffed. “You could try man.”

Sean rolled his eyes. “Either make a move, or move on.”

“I…can't man. I want to but it's just not the right time.” Derek shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging and hoping his best friend wouldn't ask him to explain, because he wasn't sure he could.

Sean muttered something about him being a coward but let it go, grabbing two more beers from the bucket of ice on the table Derek was hovering by and returning to Riley somewhere in the crowd.

The countdown started. Ten.

Nine. Derek scooped a red solo cup of mystery punch and grimaced at the syrupy sweet smell wafting from it.

Eight. He spotted Ryne and the other girl in the crowd again, and his stomach roiled with what he wished was just indigestion.

Seven. For a brief second he thought she caught his eye in the crowd, looking past her dance partner, straight into his soul.

Six. He blinked and took a breath, steeling himself to go over and interrupt.

Five. The moment passed and her attention turned back away from him.

Four. He sighed, shoulders sagging as he realized it was just an accident, if it had really happened at all.

Three. Ryne leaned in.

Two. Her pretty blonde companion leaned in.

One. Their lips met as people cheered and blew noisemakers or threw confetti. Derek grimaced and downed the punch in one swig, coughing as the alcohol burned.

Sean was right. He was a coward. And the punishment for cowardice was the girl he wished was his making out with someone else, and him ringing in the new year alone.

“What a goddamn idiot,” he muttered, pulling on his coat to go outside for a smoke. “Happy fucking New Year.”

“Hey babe,” Derek grinned at her, patting the arm of the large plush chair he was sitting in, inviting her to come and sit beside him. He had been in the rehab facility long enough that the nurses had long given up on “discouraging” after-hour visits, especially on special occasions and he was glad of it. Now if only he could get Ryne to relax a bit more, it might almost feel like home.

“Big news,” he continued, not waiting for her. “Doc said I should get out of here on good behavior next year.” He chuckled at his own joke.

Ryne felt her heart drop, even as she forced a smile to match his own. Another year was a long time to be in a rehab facility, and even with the financial aid she’d been able to help them get, she didn’t think Derek and Bela could afford it. The donations from their mother’s church had dried up not long after the funerals, and there was no sign yet of when they could hope for a payout from the Valkenburg Trust (if there was even anything left of it after all the money laundering and fraud investigations, plus payouts to the families of the victims not so lucky as Derek or Katie). She had been quietly funneling as much money as she had toward it as well, but she wasn’t exactly making a lot, and soon her own loans and debts would come due. She wasn’t sure what would happen when their luck and money ran out, but there was no way it ended well for him, or his recovery.

“What’s the matter babe?” he asked, eyebrows dipping into a frown. She tried to find the positive in that alone: his facial paralysis was one of the things the doctors had told them at first would be among the hardest parts to recover from. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he had to transfer to an outpatient service (if they could find one for pennies) or work on exercises on his own.

“Nothing,” she lied.

“Nuh-uh. I know that face, it’s worried face.”

“It’s just…” she sighed, he was right, and he definitely knew her annoyingly well. “Next year? That’s…that’s a long time.”

Derek laughed, and she was instantly torn between the draw toward that warm, wonderful sound that she so recently worried she’d never hear again and the heat of embarrassment on her cheeks at the idea that he was laughing at her.

“Did you forget what day today was?”

“I…haven’t really been paying attention.”

“It’s six days after Christmas.”

“Yeah…and?”

“December 31. Next year is only a few hours away.”

Now she was sure that her cheeks were on fire, and she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to cry, relief and shame at missing the obvious and frustration all piling up and threatening to escape her. And then Derek's arms were around her waist, and his lips were pressed to her hairline.

“I’m sorry, Ryne,” he murmured. “I’m such an idiot. I thought you knew, and it was just supposed to be a joke. I didn’t mean to stress you out. I know how hard all this has been…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Derek,” she mumbled against his shoulder as she hugged him back. “I’m just…god this year has been a fucking disaster.”

Slowly he stepped backwards, half dragging them both and half dancing, never straying far from the furniture in case he needed the extra support but trying for a second to be normal again.

“Yeah, but we made it through.”

Ryne tilted her chin up at that, meeting his earnest gaze and smiling. “Yeah, we did.” She kissed him properly then, and even though it was a little early, it was probably already the new year somewhere, and it felt like just the luck they needed.

“Sorsha’s finally down again,” Ryne sighed, dropping onto the couch beside her husband, “and Alma managed to sleep through the whole thing.”

“She takes after her Mama,” Derek laughed, kissing her temple. “It takes an earthquake to wake you both.”

“Well maybe if her Daddy didn’t snore so badly, I wouldn’t have had to develop a coping mechanism.”

“Bullshit! You slept like the dead–” he sighed and shook his head, “slept that deeply waaay before we got together.”

“And just how do you know what I slept like before?”

“Cus you did the first night I slept over. And I know I rocked your world but even I ain’t that good.”

She rolled her eyes, and gave him a teasing shove. “Whatever. Did you pick a movie?”

“Star Wars, duh. If we start it in,” he paused to check his phone, “exactly two minutes and forty seven seconds, the Death Star blows up at precisely midnight.”

“God you are such a neeerrrd. I love you.”

“Well we did Return of the King and threw the ring in the lava last year, and you picked that.”

“And?”

“How is that less nerdy?”

“I didn’t say it was. But I never had a cool guy persona.”

“But you thought mine was sexy,” he wiggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed.

“No accounting for taste, I guess,” she snuggled against closer. “I just got lucky it was only an act.”

“Exactly…wait…”

“Don’t think too hard about it darling, you might sprain something. Just put your arm around me and play the movie.”

“As you wish,” he dropped his voice sultrily and whispered the words into her ear, making her shiver.

Two hours later, the muted space station exploded and he turned to his wife, careful not to disturb the infant on his chest. Both girls had woken up during the movie, and rather than have to pause it and ruin their timing, the parents had decided to turn it into a silent film while they soothed the little ones back to sleep. But they had stirred each time they had tried to return them to their cribs, and eventually the whole family was cuddled on the couch, and all was calm.

So calm, he saw now, that he was the only one awake, even the aging cat dozing on the nearby dining room chair.

“Ryne, baby? You gonna wake up for the New Year?” he whispered, nudging her gently. She groaned and buried her face into him, looking so adorable and cozy that he thought his heart might explode.

“Guess not,” he chuckled, bending awkwardly to kiss each of his three girls on the head with a “Happy new year” before turning off the TV and settling himself to sleep there too.

#Derek Sandoval x Ryne Cassidy #Bad Samaritan fic #mostly fluff #New Years Eve fic

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