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comatosebunny09 · 4 months ago

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one in the head, two in the chest | sylus

— summary: the universe had a shitty way of reminding you of your place. — cw: headcanon format, character death, reader is not mc, written with female reader in mind, profanity, mentions of alcohol, blood & injury, sex mention, self-destructive behavior, jealousy, mutual pining, unrequited feelings, melodramatic af, ooc, mdni — notes: is it bad i’m laughing ‘cause @alfredosaws had me singing the chorus for “you give love a bad name” while writing this? listen, don’t judge me i needed to get this out, okay? thank you for reading this dramatic dribble. — now playing: riverside - agnes obel bullet to the heart - jackson wang

It was a partnership of convenience. A mutual agreement.

The terms were simple: Sylus offered you protection, a renewed sense of purpose, and redemption. You handled his opposition, luring them from the shadows and snuffing them out like a candle’s flame.

You performed at his clubs while moonlighting as an assassin. His right hand. His femme fatale. The perfect cover.

You also made money for him, attracting new clientele. It was a win-win.

You struck fear into anyone who would dare sully his name while he got to keep his hands clean.

He never badgered you about your past, and you never pried into his.

The arrangement was flawless. Until it wasn’t.

You didn’t bank on falling for him.

There was no singular moment. No ‘aha!’ No record scratch in a romcom where you, the protagonist, realized, ‘This guy’s got my heart in a bind.’

No.

It was a culmination of things. A gradual descent into irrevocable madness. It was terrifying, like sinking into the depths of a murky sea, only you weren’t thrashing about as water filled your lungs.

Not at first.

You feared letting him down. Feared his rejection and disrupting the lifestyle you had grown so accustomed to.

It was comfortable, the hodgepodge life you constructed with him, the twins, and Mephisto.

You had his back, and he had yours. You were Bonnie and Clyde. You shit-talked and flirted, but it was harmless.

Initially.

Sometimes, the flirting was accompanied by lingering gazes, accidental touches, and lasting smiles that held a little too much yearning.

His treatment towards you didn’t help matters.

He gave you free rein of his mansion. Gave you the codes to his safe houses around the city, his armories. Bought you expensive clothes and intricate costumes to wear when you performed at his clubs.

Cars, jewelry, property. You named it, and Sylus gave it to you.

He held you a little too possessively when you accompanied him to galas and banquets. Never corrected the other guests when they referred to you as ‘his lady.’

Anyone go to his nightclubs specifically requesting you? ‘No. Not this one. Choose someone else.’

He often summoned you to his quarters following your missions to tend to your injuries personally.

Even let you fall into his bed when he filled you with too much wine over dinner at the mansion or when it was too cold to sleep alone.

Nothing ever happened, much to your dismay. He was always such an insufferable fucking gentleman.

Your relationship was far beyond that of employer and employee. Yet you dreaded labeling it, fearing your dynamic would shift for the worst if he knew how you felt about him. You weren’t allowed to feel things for him.

One day, you’d become a liability he couldn’t afford to keep around.

But he was so fucking nice to you. Showed you kindness and temperance in a fast-paced and vapid world. You didn’t deserve this warmth, but you didn’t want to let it go.

You didn’t have to run anymore. Didn’t have to jump from city to city, changing your name, hiding behind your glamor.

He offered you security, safety, and predictability, where you didn’t know if tomorrow would be your last day on Earth.

He coddled your need for independence. Wasn’t stifling or controlling, but he was your security blanket in case you needed him.

He showed you fleeting tenderness that gave you a glimmer of hope that maybe…

Just maybe he pined for you as much as you pined for him.

But you’d never admit it aloud, content with staying at his side, paying off an unspoken debt, even as your heart squeezed each time he showed you a flicker of affection.

Enter Little. Miss. Dazzling. Charming. Irresistible. Hunter.

She swept in like a whirlwind, turning your life upside down on its axis.

He forced her on you. Never explained the intricacies of their relationship, just that she owed him a debt, and he brought her around to collect on it.

You unwillingly became her guardian, tasked with showing her the ropes and dragging her on missions or to meetings.

You hated the arrangement at first. She was all bright-eyed, smiling, and optimistic. Reckless. Strong-headed. In some ways, she was like you. A reflection of the woman you were years before the world robbed you of your innocence.

And she was a Hunter of all things. She could turn you in at the drop of a hat. You served on different sides of the law. There was no telling what information she was feeding the Association behind your backs.

Most of all, you grew to despise how she changed him. How his attention shifted, and she became the center of his universe.

He carted that fleeting softness he’d once shown you, to her.

The man was playing Kitty Cards and sneaking plushies into the mansion for crying out loud.

Singing, wearing bright colors, showing mercy.

The hunter was disarming in a way that you weren’t. Snuck into the fissures of his heart, effortlessly snatching him away from you.

You’d spent years getting accustomed to him. Getting him to crack a rare smile. It took her a matter of months.

You wanted to hate her so much. But with time, she grew on you, too.

Crept her way into your heart with her waywardness, banter, and determination to make herself useful. To prove her worth. To find her niche.

She surprised you time and time again. You thought she would crumble beneath the pressure. That she would eventually give in, realizing the nefarious life you led wasn’t for her.

But pressure formed diamonds, and she became more of an asset than a liability.

And before you knew it, you accepted your fate.

Like with Sylus, there was no singular pivoting point in your relationship. She just…grew on you like a benign tumor.

She became something of a friend—someone you wanted to keep safe. You were inadvertently grooming your replacement. She was no longer your baggage. No longer a thorn in your side.

You had someone else you wanted to protect. Another relationship to nurture.

You started to look forward to the days she’d light up the mansion with her animated stories and colorful personality. Where’d she blunder up your missions but pull through in the end.

You were Thelma and Louise.

And she made Sylus smile in a way you never could. Laugh in a way you never could. Seeing your seemingly cold boss lower his defenses so much was nice, even if it wasn’t your doing.

You sensed their relationship was cosmic. Something orchestrated by the universe. They were so close. So familiar. They had history, a connection that existed long before you stumbled into Sylus’ life.

You found yourself quietly bowing out of a competition you constructed in your mind. She was the better match—the better woman.

Her hands were clean. Yours were crusted with blood.

You never stood a chance from the start.

The closer you grew to Ms. Hunter, the larger the wedge between you and Sylus became.

There was no definitive title to their relationship, at least not one you had heard of. But out of respect for whatever brewed between them, you bowed out, reverting to the rigid partnership you initially shared with Sylus.

To cope with your unrequited feelings, you became self-destructive.

You thrust yourself into missions, trying to keep your mind off things. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t snuff out the feelings you still had for your boss. How shitty of a friend you were, pining for someone who never was yours. Could never be yours.

You drank more. Sought out pleasures of the flesh from people whose faces and names you could never remember.

You skipped meals. Slept like shit. Your Evol was dwindling more each day, reflecting the decaying state of your psyche.

You were punishing yourself in a way. Didn’t think you deserved anything more than a quick fuck. Something to curb the urge. You wanted to be used. Wanted to feel something other than this gut-wrenching pain. This emptiness.

You pushed everyone away, donning that mask of nonchalance you were known for.

Sylus caught on, but you were too wrapped up in your emotional turmoil to notice.

You felt like you were submerged in water, slowly drowning, your hand held out for someone to save you. And Sylus was reaching for it, desperately trying to pull you out. To pull you back to shore.

But you were too prideful to take it. Too prideful to admit you weren’t okay. That you were envious. Resentful. Falling apart at the seams. You were paranoid. You were quietly being shoved out of the picture, and one day, Sylus would no longer find you valuable.

Not when you were molding someone else to fill your shoes.

You felt worse each day because people noticed you weren’t okay. You hated when anyone worried. When people pitied you. You were a big girl—you could take care of yourself. You’d been doing it for years.

Ms. Hunter forced you to confront your feelings one day.

Grabbed you by your shoulders as the sun set over Destiny Cafe, shaking the shit out of you, the table rattling between you. Told you anyone with eyes could see the chemistry brewing between you and Sylus and how you were running from it like a fucking coward.

You were both lovesick puppies, walking on eggshells around each other.

He changed, too. Your cold shoulder, your demeanor—it made him more wary. Careless. Wounded.

‘If you don’t talk to each other, I’m gonna lock you both in a room, and neither of you is coming out until you resolve whatever’s going on between you,’ she said, exasperated.

You scoffed. There was no way Sylus had feelings for you, too. Not when she was in the picture. Not when you were something of convenience, something to further his agenda, protect his assets. His shield. His ever-reliant guard dog.

You didn’t think yourself worthy of affection. You were a weapon. A murderer. Crass. Damaged goods. He deserved better.

But she told you to give him a chance. To stop being so fucking blind. It was driving her ragged, watching you both tread thin ice around her.

She wanted to smack some sense into you. You smirked, placatingly patting her hand on your shoulder. You were rubbing off on her. She was rubbing off on you.

You tried to be more attentive thereon.

Noticed every lasting, yearning look Sylus cast your way with those scarlet eyes. Every errant brush of fingers over your hand, wrist, neck, back. How his voice affectionately sloped whenever he spoke to you, a boyish gleam to his eyes. He was gentle and homely and trying.

And you weren’t used to it. You were afraid of it.

You still had your moments when you ran. When you shoved him away, thinking things were too good to be true.

An overwhelming part of you still believed you weren’t good enough.

But he was trying. Really trying. He didn’t even use you as bait anymore. Rarely sent you on missions where he knew you’d encounter some strife. He was more protective. More considerate, and it made your stomach twist.

Things came to a head one fateful evening.

He called you as the sun sought refuge behind the horizon. You’d been dodging him for weeks.

You were seated at a cafe, trying to breathe.

The conversation was intense. Emotional. You were misty-eyed as it drew to a conclusion. Voice all croaky, throat rubbed raw.

You were tired of running again. Exhausted with pushing yourself to the back burner in favor of others. You needed to know what his intentions were with you. If he was serious about you. If he was sure you were what he wanted.

He told you he’d never been more sure of anything in his life.

You cried. You fucking cried, pacing around in that stupid cafe. You hadn’t cried in years. You hated how it made you feel. You were pathetic.

When his voice broke through the static on your cell phone, it simmered with emotion. He sounded suspiciously close, telling you to turn around.

You did as he instructed, accustomed to doing what you were told without a second thought.

He stood before you, his phone still held to his ear, anguish screwing up his brows, a forlorn smile curving his lips.

You watched him, misty-eyed and wobbly-lipped.

The cafe’s wispy curtains fluttered between you. The setting sun limned both your bodies in amber. It was like a dream.

Unspoken words hung in the air, nebulous like a cloud. Neither of you had to say a thing. This feeling between you, it was practically tangible.

He was wordless when he conquered the space between you in two long strides, tugging you into the circle of his arms.

He smelled so good. Felt so warm. So strong. So safe. You crumbled. He held you as you cried, stroking over your back, whispering words of affirmation into the crown of your head. Apologized over and over again.

You felt stupid. Melodramatic. But he came for you.

It felt kind of nice—having someone chase you for once. Having someone pour every bit of themselves into you when all you’d known were crumbs.

He made love to you later that night.

Made. Love.

You were used to hot, furtive, emotionless sessions where you often forgot your partner’s name.

But Sylus, he…

He was so fucking gentle and patient and attentive. Asked if you were alright every chance he could. Handled you like glass, ensuring your needs were satiated long before he pursued his own.

He made you feel full. Warm. Revered.

Filled you to the brim. Covered you like a warm blanket on the coldest night. His praise made your toes go numb. Made hot tears scorch down your face as your tongue wrapped around his name in pleasure once more.

Your relationship blossomed thereafter.

Your insecurities still beckoned you with their scraggly fingers from time to time. But Sylus treated you more like a lover. An equal. A partner.

For the first time in over a decade, you felt genuine happiness. You were healing.

But it was short-lived. There was always a nagging voice in the deepest reaches of your mind, reminding you everything good would eventually meet its end.

You were awaiting a fireworks show at the pier with Sylus, Ms. Hunter, and her friends. The carnival was in full swing.

You were browsing the stalls littering the boardwalk. Ran your fingers over various trinkets, your lips aching with a smile.

You decided to grab snow cones for two of the most important people in your life. It was a sweltering summer night, the kind of weather that covered every bit of exposed skin in a fine sheen of sweat.

Your purchases were in your hands, and you returned to them. Your heart pulled at the sight that greeted you.

They were standing together—Sylus and the hunter—leaning against the rail. Laughing, smiling, teasing. They looked so comfortable. So cozy. Something out of a painting. So natural.

Even long after you and Sylus became exclusive, you still had days when your feelings of inadequacy crept in.

But they still looked like they fit together better than you did. You felt like an interloper. Like you were witnessing something you had no business being a part of. The universe was sending you signals. Warnings you should’ve heeded long ago.

The snow cones melted in your hands, their sticky, cold sweetness dripping down your knuckles, you had been watching them for so long.

Someone called for you through the cacophony of the other carnival-goers, dredging you from your thoughts. You turned, plastering on a fake smile as you acknowledged Tara.

You jogged towards her, tamping down those nagging feelings. Sylus loved you. They both did.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl.

There was a familiar whizzing sound. The smell of carbon. Smoke. A sharp pain in your chest. You were moored to the spot as your smile melted away.

The snow cones fell from your hands. It hurt to breathe. Hurt to stand. You looked down as the crowd erupted in horrified screams.

Red lazily spilled onto your shirt between your ribs until it was all you could see. You looked up, your vision bleary as Tara’s panicked face blurred in and out of focus.

You sank to your knees, the air siphoned from your lungs. You didn’t scream. You couldn’t. You were falling. Sinking to the ground when—

Hands. Hands were pulling at you from all angles onto your back. Frantic, muddled voices. Screaming. Shouting. Shoving.

The boardwalk rocked beneath you as people ran every which way. You couldn’t keep your eyes open. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, your voice gurgled and wet. The taste of iron was dense on the back of your tongue.

You felt weightless. You were being pulled into a familiar embrace. Swaddled in that familiar scent. Your cheeks were wet, but not from your tears.

Scarlet. You recall scarlet eyes flitting in and out of clarity as your vision darkened around the corners like a vignette. You reached up to touch them. To touch that warm, stubbled cheek. Trace those pretty, petal pink lips. That beautiful nose.

You were cold. So cold. So weak. Shaky. You managed a smile as blood flooded your chest. Filled the space between your teeth.

Your hand fell away, thudding against the floorboards. You couldn’t move. Why couldn’t you move? Why couldn’t you—

You were slipping away, the homely call of darkness pulling you under.

You don’t think you’ve ever heard him scream like that. It was blood-curdling. Devastating. Fire and brimstone. Like demons tearing through hell’s gates.

You wanted to comfort him. Never wanted to hear that sort of anguish in his voice again. But you couldn’t. Fucking. Move.

You were dying.

Maybe this was your punishment for tempting fate—his punishment for choosing you over what was already predetermined.

Fate always had a way of mucking things up, didn’t it?

#sylus x non mc reader #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus angst #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #lnds sylus #sylus qin #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #tw: death #tw: blood

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is-this-fascism · 4 months ago

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if you ever see a video where someone offers a homeless person a job and they refuse to take the job, please understand it's not because they don't want help.

they just don't want whatever job is being offered.

last time i took a job offered by a rando who ascertained i was homeless, he tried to insist on giving me a ride (even though he knew i live in my own car). he also forbid me from smoking any cigarettes in his presence. he talked to me for about 5 minutes before saying 'well, i feel like i understand you now!' and putting me to work doing hard labor. i did my best, but after 4 hours of it my body was giving out because, obviously, i hadn't been spending my days hauling heavy logs recently. when i told him i wasn't sure i could keep going that day, he looked at me judgementally and begrudgingly paid me. i had made it clear i'd only have enough energy for part-time work.

now, he paid me for this, but there were several red flags that made me wary of working for him again. despite the fact he claimed he was helping me, he barely communicated with me beyond giving orders and telling me stories about how his pets died. he tried to make sure i didn't have my own vehicle on his property. he wanted to control my cigarette use. he bragged about his wealth coming from real estate.

i'm not sure even he realized these things were red flags, because in his mind, doing work for a boss is how homeless people get on their feet, and he was doing A Good Thing by giving me an opportunity to work.

this is just one example, but when i talk about 'savior complex' people, this is what i'm talking about. many homeless people have taken jobs offered to them before, and for one reason or another they decided it was not safe or advantageous to continue that job. if a homeless person rejects a job, there's always more to it than drugs and laziness.

#homeless #homelessness

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reasonsforhope · 1 month ago

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"Almost all new homes in England will be fitted with solar panels during construction within two years, the government will announce after Keir Starmer rejected Tony Blair’s criticism of net zero policies.

Housebuilders will be legally required to install solar panels on the roofs of new properties by 2027 under the plans.

The policy is estimated to add between £3,000 and £4,000 to building a home but homeowners would save more than £1,000 on their annual energy bills, according to the Times.

Labour has set a target of building 1.5m homes by the end of the parliament [May 2029]. The party has promised to decarbonise the electricity grid by 2030 and cut household energy bills by £300 a year.

Ministers are also preparing to offer government-funded loans and grants for the installation of solar panels on existing homes.

The move is a sign that the government will press ahead with its net zero agenda after Starmer rejected criticisms of climate policy from Blair.

In a high-profile intervention days before the local elections, Blair said there needed to be a radical reset of “irrational” net zero policies that were “doomed to fail”.

The former Labour prime minister argued that the public was being asked to make “financial sacrifices and changes in lifestyle” that would have “minimal” effect on global emissions. He said the drive to phase out fossil fuels in the short term was “doomed to fail” because their production and demand were rising.

His remarks angered government figures and triggered a response from senior No 10 officials, who called the Tony Blair Institute for Global Change (TBI) and urged it to address the fallout. The TBI issued a clarifying statement on Wednesday morning saying it believed the government’s net zero policy was “the right one”.

Blair’s remarks were interpreted as an attack on Starmer’s policy agenda after the prime minister said last week that tackling the climate crisis and bolstering energy security were “in the DNA of my government”...

Campaigners have welcomed the news that the government is going to mandate solar panels on new homes.

Lily-Rose Ellis, Greenpeace UK’s climate campaigner, said: “For too long we’ve wasted the free energy that falls on the roofs of houses every single day. Now, people living in new-build homes will save hundreds of pounds every year on their energy bills, thanks to this commonsense decision from the government.”

A government spokesperson said: “We have always been clear that we want solar panels on as many new homes as possible because they are a vital technology to help cut bills for families, boost our national energy security and help deliver net zero.

“Through the Future Homes Standard we plan to maximise the installation of solar panels on new homes as part of our ambition to ensure all new homes are energy efficient, and will set out final plans in due course.”"

-via The Guardian, May 1, 2025

#uk #united kingdom #europe #england #solar #uk pol #uk politics #solar panels #solar power #housing #keir starmer #climate action #climate hope #architecture #sustainable architecture #renewables #solarpunk #good news #hope

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bittertasteofhoney · 1 month ago

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Good Day Sunshine | Ch. 6

Your Lips, My Lips

Summary: The tension between you and Joel finally snaps and the two of you become tangled in more ways than one.

|| smutty smut smut, light angst, jackson!joel, jackson!joel x f!reader, unprotected sex (please do not do this), p in v, age-gap, fingering (but also not?), dirty talk, missionary, praise kink, creampie, grinding, girthy, age gap (but legal!) age gap, reader isn’t a virgin but it's her first time with joel, reader is afab ||

Notes: It’s finally happening besties!! Enjoy Joel finally giving in to his desires…

18+. Read at your own risk. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Minors DO NOT ENGAGE.

The characters, names and characterizations belong to HBO Max and The Last of Us franchise. This work is my creative property and aside from re-blogs and shares, I do not give permission to share or copy my work without permission or consent.

Previous Chapter.

He stood in front of you, red as a cherry and eyes so wide, you worried they would pop out of his head. “Kiss you?”

You nodded, a soft smirk crinkling your cheeks. He whispered your name and shook his head. His words came out incredulous and shockingly harsh. “I-I can’t kiss you. You’re what? Twenty-six? Twenty-seven?”

“Twenty-nine.” His face went white.

“Christ.” A hand covered his mouth as he attempted to still his breathing. “I’m too old for you. Jesus there’s twenty-seven years between us. I could be your goddamn father. You don’t need to think about me kissing you and I definitely don’t-” He took a shuddering pause and attempted to collect himself again.

“You should be kissing guys your own age.”

You shook your head and pressed your lips together in annoyance. “Oh, like Roddy? Should I let him kiss me?”

His eyes turned to murderous slits. “Don’t even fucking joke like that.”

A short breath escaped your mouth before you spoke, “Is age the only reason you won’t kiss me? Is that really it?” All he did was stare at you with some combination of a glare and a plea.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, would you kiss me if age wasn’t an issue?”

He didn’t trust himself to answer you. He didn’t even fully realize the subtle nod he threw your way, not exactly in control of himself at that moment. A nervous and desperate energy buzzed through him, and he squeezed his fists together until his knuckles turned white.

“So kiss me then. I want you to.” Your voice came out in a whisper.

The two of you stood in tense silence, close but not close enough to touch. Finally, he shook his head, definitively rejecting you and looking almost scared of the alternative of letting himself say yes.

The smirk on your face fell, and you forced yourself to nod and eventually smile. “Goodnight, then, Joel. Thank you again for dinner.”

You didn’t look at his face as you stepped off the porch, nor did you look back as you walked down his path, onto the road, and around the corner back home. You couldn’t see past the tears in your eyes from the moment’s embarrassment. Rejected by a man whom you had been avoiding just a week before. The irony of it was almost too much.

Back on his porch, Joel wrestled with the morality of the situation. He was old enough to be your father, and here you were asking him to kiss you. He knew he couldn’t simply stop there if he gave in. He would completely ruin you, and it wasn’t fair to you. He paced the length of the porch, occasionally glancing at the yard to see if you would reappear, until he made up his mind. It shouldn’t have even been a question, but his brain wouldn’t move past the hopeful look in your eyes.

He moved off the porch and into the night to retrace your steps until he knocked on that splintered yellow door.

You opened it with red rimmed eyes, and his gaze immediately softened at your appearance. He was an asshole. Didn’t deserve to be here for making you cry like that. But his feet remained planted.

“I came to apologize.” You offered him a watery laugh.

“You tend to do that a lot.” He nodded.

“I reckon I have a lot to be sorry for.”

Your eyebrows creased together. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m sorry for how I acted back at the house. I shouldn’t have let you leave.” He paused and looked at his boots. “And I’m sorry for being unable to stop myself this time. So, I need you to be sure.” He took a step forward. “Do you want this? Really want this?”

You opened the door wider, nodding your head.

He shook his head quickly back and forth. “No. I need to hear you say it.” His voice was shaky. Nervous and unsure.

“I want it.” All the breath left his body as you moved to let him step inside. He turned to gently close the door and lock it before placing two hands on your hips and twisting you so your back was against the door.

He wasted no time looking at your flustered form before leaning in.

The kiss was initially slow, his lips gentle, and his mustache tickling your top lip. But then built as his desperation broke through. He tasted like coffee and lemon cake and less than honorable intentions. He pinned your hips with his and caged you in with his arms. His lips moved urgently, teeth nipping and tongue licking into your mouth. You gasped, and he froze, breaking the kiss and looking at you.

“You okay?”

You gripped his shirt, breathing heavily and nodding. “Yes, but I won’t be if that’s all you plan on doing.”

He released your name in a strangled breath. You pressed a hand against his chest, causing his eyes to lock on yours, and they stayed there as you walked him backward into your living room.

His eyes occasionally flitted to your lips, but the look on your face mesmerized him and held his attention. You pushed him onto your couch, and he fell onto the sunken cushions with a grunt. You swallowed nervously before climbing onto his lap and hovering.

You looked at him beneath you. He was watching you as if you were a goddess come to life. You blushed as he steadied you with his hands and leaned in to kiss him softly. He groaned and bit your lip, causing you to whimper and sink into it. The two of you kissed, fighting one another for dominance and after a few minutes of back and forth, Joel knocked one of his knees to the side, causing you to lose your balance and fall flush against him. You gasped, and he swallowed it with another searing kiss. Okay, I guess he won that one.

You steadied yourself on his shoulders as his hands climbed up your back, slipping his hands under the straps of your sundress and palming the skin like you would disappear in a split second. He slipped the straps off your shoulders and broke the kiss to look at you questioningly. You nodded, and he looked down entranced as he slipped the dress down your chest to your navel.

He swallowed audibly. No fucking bra. You looked at him, blushing, but he couldn’t rip his gaze away. Nervously, he slid a hand from your shoulder and gently cupped one of the breasts. You closed your eyes, and he froze, just letting the weight of it sit in his hand—another audible swallow.

“Joel.” His eyes flitted to yours, which were now open and searing. Without thinking, you brought a hand up to his and pressed it down. That was the permission he didn’t realize he was waiting for.

He inhaled and leaned forward, capturing your lips once again in a mind-dizzying tilt as he squeezed and flicked and dug his nails into you. You hissed, not from pain but shock, as he pressed a hand into your stomach, causing you to fall back. He caught you with his hands, which moved quickly to firmly press against your back.

You watched in desire-tinted fascination as he slipped one perked bud into his mouth, all the while keeping his eyes firmly set on yours. He rolled the nipple between his teeth before releasing it with a pop and moving on to the other breast, repeating the motions. You were a whimpering mess before he released both completely, looking like he could spend all day doing just that and almost pissed he was moving on.

“Joel?” His eyes were still fixed on your breasts, now covered in his saliva.

“Tell me what you want.” His voice came out gravely, almost like it was punched with holes from disuse.

You chuckled nervously. “What I want? I thought that was fairly obvious.” He shook his head with clipped movements from side to side, but then met your gaze once again. His eyes were so dark, they were nearly black.

He slid one of the hands that was still supporting you from the back around your side and down your stomach, slipping underneath the bunched-up dress at your hips and under the snap of elastic holding your underwear together. You watched with wide eyes, locked on his black ones as he swiped his fingers through your wet mess.

“Christ.” He hissed, swallowing and biting his lip like that was the only thing anchoring him. “How long?”

“Probably since you went all caveman and slammed me against the door.” Your breath was shaky and airy. His thumb swiped your clit and a whimper escaped you.

His eyebrows knitted together. “Did I hurt you?” You shook her head quickly, barely able to think as his thumb began to circle. “Good. Because I was thinkin’.” A brief pause. “I could fuck you up against that door. If that’s something you wanted.” All the breath left your body.

“And if I said no?” His thumb stopped its movements, his fingers moving down to circle your entrance. He pressed the heel of his hand against your clit, and you fell forward, your forehead meeting his.

“Well, you’d be one big fuckin’ tease, but I would be a gentleman and walk out that door.”

You swallowed and tested a roll of your hips against his hand. He hissed. “I don’t want a gentleman right now.”

“What do you want?” Another sharp intake of breath from him and another roll of your hips.

“I want you to fuck me in my bed first. Then we can talk about up against the door.” Your hips were beginning to move in a rhythm and he continued to watch like his fucking life depended on it.

He applied more pressure to his hand, still teasingly circling his fingers around your entrance. “Anyone else been in your bed?” You shook your head. “Words, darlin’. I need to hear you use your words.”

“No.” It came out strangled. You had to rip the vowels from your throat to even attempt to form the words as something bordering on blissful was beginning to crest.

“So you’re telling me I’ll be the first?” You nodded again, and he applied more pressure.

“Words, darlin’.”

“Yes.” He nodded as your hips began to lose their rhythm, and you threw your head back as the feeling started to rise. You repeated the affirmation over and over, your movements jerky, and he used his other hand to press you more flush against him by palming your ass. He softly kissed your neck and sank his teeth into the fleshy section between your shoulder and neck, causing you to hiss and his name to escape your mouth in a whimper as everything came crashing over you.

You completely lost any sense of rhythm, letting him take over, guiding your hips and groaning against you as that warm feeling in your lower belly finally snapped.

Once you began to come down from your high, he licked over his bite mark, letting you catch your breath. After a few minutes, he leaned back and admired his work. His eyes flitted from your rosy cheeks to the wet spot on your shoulder to your peaked nipples and finally, to your dress, which was still bunched around your hips.

“I’m gonna ask you one more time darlin’, and then I’ll take you upstairs. Do you want this?”

You shook your head, and he had already reconciled himself to adjusting his pants and leaving your house for good when he felt a hand pressed against his chest. “You ask me if I want this one more time and I just might have to kick your ass Joel Miller. Take me upstairs.”

He met your sharp gaze with a smirk. “Yes, ma’am.” Within an instant, your legs were wrapped around his waist, his erection pressing up against you through his jeans as he rose from your tangled position on the couch.

He grunted as he stood, and you smiled, muttering to yourself, “Old man.”

He smirked and nodded, slapping your ass with a biting sting. “Let’s see if you still think that in a few minutes.”

He took the stairs quickly as if being chased and spun around in confusion on the landing. “Bedroom?”

“To the right.” You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his neck. He groaned.

“Hands to yourself until you’re beneath me.”

You giggled. “My hands have nothing to do with this.” He barreled into your room and barely let his eyes focus on the scattered plants, yellow linen curtains and piles of paperbacks before throwing you on the bed. You yelped in surprise, bouncing from the movement. You sat up, supporting yourself on your elbows and watched dazed as he stepped up to the foot of the bed.

“Eyes on me.” You quirked an eyebrow.

“Giving me orders now, Miller?” He smirked darkly and lightly shrugged his shoulders.

“That something you like?” You bit your lip and nodded. “Good girl.” Fucking good girl?

Your eyes never left his as he kicked off his boots and socks, unbuttoned his flannel and peeled off a white t-shirt, revealing dark patches of chest hair and a soft belly. Corded planes of muscle, no doubt earned from years surviving in this harsh world, were still present but were softened by age.

You swallowed as his hands moved to his hips, unbuckling a rusty belt and sliding his denim jeans down in quick movements. He stepped out of them and watched your reaction as you fully took him in. Fucking hell.

He was a decent size, but that wasn’t what caused your throat to dry up. He was thick. “You sure you know what you’re doing with that?”

He rolled his eyes. “Never had any complaints.” You bit your lip as he slowly climbed onto the bed and crawled over you. Hands back to bracketing your form and knee between your legs, knocking them apart.

“You ever done this before?” You narrowed your eyes at him and nodded with as much sarcasm as you could emote

He met your narrowed gaze with his own. “Yes, Joel. Although I’m worried it’ll feel like the first time given how thi-”

“No need to feed my ego, darlin’. I’m already between your legs.” You laughed.

“So do something about it.” He smirked and locked his eyes on yours as he slowly slid into your entrance, giving inch by inch in an agonizing pace. Your eyes fluttered closed, and he groaned.

“Relax for me, darlin’. I can’t go any further.” Your eyes flashed open, and you saw he was only halfway in. You nodded and took a deep breath. He leaned forward and kissed you softly. You melted into it, moaning and letting him take control. Before you knew it, he bottomed out and you felt his patch of hair rubbing against your clit. You jerked at the sensation, and he smiled to himself as he continued to kiss you.

“You want it fast or slow?” You hummed as he peppered your jaw with kisses.

“Surprise me.” He shook his head.

“No. I want to give you what you want. Tell me.”

“Slow.” He nodded but paused as you brought a hand up to his chin, squeezing it and forcing him to look at you. “And hard.”

He nodded again and began to move. You gasped at the sensation of being stretched completely open. Again, how was this man still single, walking around with that between his legs?

At first, he seemed to be holding back. His movements were hard but bordering on civil. “Joel.” He groaned at the sound of your name coming out of his mouth. “Stop being so polite.” You whimpered as he circled his hips, disrupting the rhythm he set.

“How else am I supposed to fuck Little Miss Sunshine?” A sharp pump of his hips.

“Joel, please-” His thrusts immediately turned harder, almost hostile, but still maintaining a slow, sensual pace. He grunted from the effort.

“Like she’s fuckin’ burning me up?” His voice was low, almost angry, but when you met his eyes, they were intense but soft. Almost reverent. “God, baby, the way you’re squeezing me.”

You whimpered again, and he used one of his hands to press your thighs further apart. He sat back on his heels, palming the flesh of your thighs and gripping them as he continued to pump his hips.

You were a fucking mess. Not once did his tempo quicken. Every single thrust of those hips set a scattering of stars across your vision.

You’re not sure how much time passed, but somewhere between minutes and blissful hours, that familiar feeling began to build in your belly. “Joel.”

“I know, baby.” You whimpered again and bucked your hips, desperately meeting his thrust. He immediately moved one of his hands from your thighs to clamp down on your movements. You covered his hand with your own and dug your nails in.

“Please.” A breath escaped him, and he nodded, watching your hips rise to meet him thrust for thrust. The two of you quickly spiraled into oblivion, punctuated by groans, whimpers and moans. “Joel!”

“That’s it, baby.” He grunted, sounding like this pained him, but the look on his face made it clear he was enjoying every second of this. “Let go for me.” You whimpered again, so close to the edge. Noticing the tears shining at the corner of your eyes, he lifted a hand, licked his thumb and brought it to your clit to rub ferocious circles that bordered on painful. It felt like heaven.

Your eyes widened when that delicious cord snapped again, and his name tumbled from your lips as your orgasm ripped through you. He grunted from the effort and said your name in warning. “Come inside me, Joel. Please.”

That fucking did it for him. He collapsed on top of you as his own orgasm pulsed through him, and you felt the heat of him invade your every sense.

The two of you stayed like that for several minutes, the sweat drying sticky on your limbs and your breaths calming down from pants to deep inhales. When he finally rose on his forearms, he captured your lips in a tangled kiss that risked you losing all feeling in your limbs again. The man made you completely senseless.

As the kiss broke, you moved a hand to push a few sweaty curls off his brow. He grasped the hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently and meeting your eyes nervously. “You feelin’ okay?”

You nodded quietly at first and then smirked. “Feeling like I’m ready to be fucked against a door.” He laughed at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Give me a second, darlin’. I think I blacked out there for a second.”

So you did. The two of you laid there, laughing and drawing patterns on each other’s skin with him still inside you. However, it didn’t take long for a kiss or two to heat things up again and for the pair of you to end up hip to hip, frantically moving as one.

Against the door. Pinned up against your kitchen counters as he took you from behind. On the couch with you on top.

The man may have needed a few minutes between each session, but once he was ready, he became insatiable—and you were drunk on the feeling.

By the time morning light peeked between your living room windows, the sleeping forms of you and Joel barely registered as you lay tangled on the cushions. Your body rose and fell from his deep breaths, supported by his arms locked around you and covered by a threadbare blanket.

Your aching bodies, well-soothed by a night filled with orgasms, didn’t register the knocking on your door. Not until it turned into pounding.

You lifted your head groggily, clocking the sleeping Miller beneath you and smirking before the insistent banging registered. Confused, you glanced at the door and looked around for an article of clothing to cover yourself with.

Tossing the blanket over Joel, you spotted a crew neck thrown across your sitting chair and thankfully, piles of folded shorts from your recent bout of laundry. The pounding continued.

Shit. Did you miss a shift? What day was it? “One second!” You cringed to yourself when you saw Joel begin to stir. He opened his eyes and met your panicked expression. “Sorry.” He shook his head in dismissal and slowly sat up.

You ran to the door and opened it to reveal a smirking Ellie. Double shit.

“Ellie!” You said her name loudly, hoping Joel would miraculously get the cue he needed to get dressed quickly.

The young kid was smirking, immediately noticing the panicked edge to your smiling face. “Can I come in?”

Your eyes widened to saucers. “I don’t think that’s the best idea, babe. I’m pretty sure I slept in and need to be at the gardens right now and-”

She pushed past you, rather aggressively for someone her size, and laughed, saying, “It’s seven in the morning.” The laughter only lasted a full second before she shouted, “Dude! What the hell man?! Make yourself decent! There’s kids around.”

You covered your mouth to keep from laughing as you watched Joel nearly fall off the couch, clutching the blanket around his lower half. “Ellie, what the hell are you doing here?!”

Ellie looked at the ground, probably attempting to erase the image of her stand-in father shirtless from her brain. “You’re late for patrol. We were supposed to report to Tommy thirty minutes ago.”

Joel muttered a shit to himself before taking the stairs up to your bedroom two at a time. The two of you stood in silence, so awkward you could practically feel it suffocating you for a few minutes before Joel came bounding back down the stairs. He clocked you and Ellie, smirking to yourselves, and rolled his eyes before ushering his charge outside.

You expected him to just walk past you, but he paused in the doorway, watching to make sure Ellie kept walking before pinning you against the wall, an inch from the open door.

“Don’t think I didn’t see your ass sniggering.” You didn’t even have a chance to respond before his lips pressed against yours and his tongue slipped into your mouth, silencing any sort of argument you were going to attempt.

When he broke the kiss, you were breathless, and he was the one smirking as he stepped into the crisp morning air.

Next Chapter.

Tag List :) @silksepia @hello-nah817 @longlivetheloneliness @keseqna @millers-girl @treacherqus @lemonboi @spnfic85 @secretlettersfromyourlove

#bitter taste of honey #good day sunshine #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #minors dni #minors do not interact #18 + content #18 + only #Spotify

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homuraakemis · 4 months ago

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Honestly, every single one of Jinx's accusations against Vi is so hypocritical:

1) "I thought, maybe you could love me like you used to, even though I'm different".

She accuses Vi of not loving/accepting her as she is. This is already an absurd expectation, because first, Vi has no obligation to "accept her as she is" when she is doing all the horrible things that she does, and second, Vi actually does love her despite all her mistakes, it's Jinx herself who refuses Vi's offer to leave and start anew.

But it's also a completely hypocritical accusation: she wants Vi to accept her as she is, but she doesn't accept Vi as she is. Vi is a person who is not willing to murder innocents and also someone who cares about Caitlyn. But Jinx doesn't accept that about her sister. She wants Vi to change for her, she wants Vi to become a murderer and kill Caitlyn to prove her love for her, and when Vi refuses, she rejects Vi. So Jinx herself doesn't accept Vi as she is.

2) "Poisoning our air"

This is incredibly hypocritical coming from a person who spent years helping to poison the people of Zaun with shimmer, a drug that devastated Zaun. Vi and Caitlyn's use of the Grey at least was targeted against the chem-barons (the very people that were poisoning Zaun with Shimmer and that Jinx spent years helping), and the Grey is also not shown to be lethal. Silco spreading shimmer, on the other hand, was not targeted. He didn't sell shimmer in a controlled manner for its healing properties, he sold it in a widespread manner, getting people addicted, debilitated, and turning them into monsters that attack other people. And Jinx helped Silco do it. What she did is much worse than what Vi did, but apparently it's ok for Jinx to poison her own people.** (And that's not even mentioning all the other bad things against Zaun that Jinx helped happen by working with Silco, like the child slave labor, the killing of the Firelights and all other of Silco's crimes)

3) "Wish I was seeing things when you decided to throw in with the Piltie goons who murdered mom and dad"

Again, so hypocritical. Yes, Vi joined the enforcers. But she joined a team with an enforcer that she trusted (Caitlyn), and she didn't join anyone directly responsible for their parent's deaths. Jinx, on the other hand, actually joined the man directly responsible for the deaths of their adoptive family.** Not to mention that Jinx's actions are the main reason Vi joined the enforcers in the first place.

**By the way, I know that Jinx was a kid when she was taken in by Silco. But as an adult, we never see Jinx express remorse for working with him. On the contrary, we see her grieve him, smell his jacket and only ever think fondly of him, never criticizing him for his role in destroying Zaun. And while she was a kid when she was taken in, she continues helping him as an adult, she continues doing it even after Vi comes back and tries to help her, and it's also implied that Ekko tried to help her in the past and she refused (or if he didn't try, she still could have tried to ask for his help, she had somewhere else to go other than staying with Silco). She could have left Silco as an adult but didn't. As Ekko said, she works for Silco not because she needs to, but because she wants to, and she constantly seeks Silco's validation. So while I can understand that Jinx was a vulnerable kid that was manipulated by Silco, I still think that if she's going to make these accusations against Vi without ever self-reflecting about her own role in helping Silco oppress Zaun, then it's fair to call out her hypocrisy.

4) "Wake up, sis. I'm a hero. I busted half of Zaun out of Stillwater while you were passed out in the bottom of a mug."

First of all, it's incredibly insensitive for her to throw Stillwater in Vi's face, considering that she knows Vi spent 7 years there, and it's really cruel to mock Vi for being "passed out in the bottom of a mug" considering that part of the reason Vi has been spiraling and drinking were Jinx's own actions. Jinx is part of the reason why Vi has been getting wasted like this.

But it's also hypocritical, because she is accusing Vi of doing nothing while Zaun is suffering, even though Jinx herself was also doing nothing. She was hiding with Isha and would not have helped anyone if Isha hadn't been taken. Not to mention that her own terrorist attacks are the very reason Zaun is being occupied, and Vi helped Zaun way more than Jinx ever did.

(Tbh, I find it frustrating that Vi never got to properly answer to Jinx's accusations or point out Jinx's hypocrisy. I get that for most of the show, Vi is never really in a good state of mind to actually answer to these accusations, especially because Vi is usually busy blaming herself for everything. So I'm not saying it's bad writing that Vi never properly defended herself against these accusations. But it's still very frustrating)

#arcane #vi arcane #jinx #vi #caitvi #arcane meta #my meta #my post.#the most vi ever said to answer to these accusations was call jinx a psycho #which isn't much

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marauder-misprint · 2 months ago

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hello and good day! can I request sirius black x house of prince member!reader whose like severus' only tolerable cousin (so platonic severus and reader kinda relationship and they're chill) but the marauders don't know that and sirius has a fat crush on the reader (reader isn't in slytherin if that's okay) and flirts w them but reader thinks "Oh sirius is probs flirting w me to piss of severus" and cheerfully rejects him till like severus confronts the marauders that sirius stops being a coward and all and to leave his cousin alone and the marauders goes "????" and severus goes "hold on you don't know" and sirius kinda spirals bc the person he's down bad is severus' cousin... uh new tactics to win them over... severus being the biggest hater lmfao, if you can't write this pls don't force yourself 🫶! ty and have a good day!

Hi! Thank you for this request! ❤︎ I put reader in Hufflepuff - I think it fits :) I hope I did this request justice, especially the Snape/Reader dynamic.

Hope you enjoy ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Snape's cousin

Sirius Black x Prince!reader

5k words

cw: fluff, pining Sirius

Until last year, there were two non-Slytherins that Severus willingly talked to and was friendly with. One was Lily Evans but they were no longer on speaking terms. The other, the one who remains, is you. A lot of students wonder why you occasionally hang out and seek him out in the Great Hall. Frankly, he’s one of the few Slytherins you talk to – you don’t mind Pandora and Dorcas. But what a majority of your classmates don’t know is that you and Severus are cousins. Your close friends know, as do his, and you’re sure a few of Lily’s friends know too.

The first time you saw him label a book ‘Property of the Half-blood Prince,’ you snatched it and held it away from him as he tried to get it back.

“Come on, give it back. It’s mine,” he had said.

You pointed at what he had written. “According to this, it’s more mine than yours. You’re Snape.”

Severus rolled his eyes and you handed him the book back with a triumphant smile on your face. When you teased him, it was friendly, short-lived and harm-free. Severus tolerated it. It was better than anything the Marauders did to him. Plus, you were family and family he didn’t despise at that so he kept you around. You offered him a change of pace from his Slytherin friends. Severus needed it more than he would admit.

You, on the other hand, are not hurting for friends. People like you. To a point, you’d say they gravitate toward you. One of those who seems to gravitate toward you more than he should is Sirius.

“Oi! Prince!” his voice calls across the Transfiguration courtyard.

You’re walking with Meredith and Abby to your next class. You have a few minutes to spare so you pause and turn to see Sirius jogging up to you.

“Yeah?”

“So, I know you’re a Prince, but if you were mine, I’d treat you like a queen,” he says once he’s next to you.

Cue eye roll.

“I appreciate that, Sirius, but no thank you,” you say sweetly.

Then you continue walking with your friends, the girls sharing a knowing look. This wasn’t the first time Sirius has flirted with you and you doubt it’ll be the last. Relentless. That’s how you’d describe him. Relentless on trying to get to Severus, trying to mess with him. Severus would probably have a conniption if you went on a date with Sirius, not that it is any of his business who you go around with, but the Marauders are not nice to Severus. You chuckle to yourself at the Gryffindor’s sad attempts to piss off Severus. Sirius had yet to flirt with you directly in front of Severus and you weren’t about to bring it up to him. So his attempts were futile.

“I still can’t believe you brush him off every time,” Abby sighs as you climb the stairs toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

“We both know he’s not genuinely flirting with me,” you say. “And even if he was, he’s been too cruel to Sev.”

“Right, like he hasn’t earned some of what they dish out,” Meredith says dryly.

It isn’t a secret that Meredith and Abby aren’t the biggest fans of Severus. Abby’s muggleborn so when Severus called Lily a mudblood last year, she fully swore off trying to be kind to him for your sake. And Meredith stood by her. You keep telling yourself that he’s family and you know more about his homelife and bringing up than anyone else. Although, you sometimes wonder if you give him more leeway than he deserves. Every time, you shake the thought from your head.

“What’d you think of the assigned reading?” you ask, entering the classroom and desperate to change the conversation away from your cousin. “Dementors?”

“Glad they are far, far away at Azkaban,” Meredith says with a shiver.

“Personally, I hope I never have to meet one,” you add.

“I think it’s going to be a long unit,” Abby says.

You and Meredith give her a confused look.

“Discussing creatures that suck happiness out of the air and eat souls? Not very cheery.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, but we should cover the Patronus charm soon. That’ll be fun.”

“Professor Fischer didn’t let them try it in class last year. Just the theory and ‘you can try it on your own time,’” Meredith says, mocking your professor’s voice.

“We’ll try it together then, yeah?”

“Yes!” Abby eagerly agrees.

You make eye contact with Severus from across the classroom. He nods and looks away. That’s the most you get from him lately unless you’re asking him for Potions help. The volume in the classroom skyrockets as the Marauders and other Gryffindors enter the room. Sirius winks at you as he passes you. You don’t react, just taking out your notes and textbook for the class. The Gryffindors were always the last into the classroom, so if they were here, that means Professor Fischer will be starting class momentarily.

“You saw that, right?” Abby whispers to you and you know she’s talking about Sirius.

“Yes. It doesn’t mean anything.”

She raises her eyebrows as if to say ‘yeah, sure.’ Despite you repeatedly telling them that Sirius was using you to get Severus, they still think that Sirius is actually flirting with you, that he has feelings for you. You sigh heavily as the professor starts his lesson on dementors.

After class, you walk out with the girls and head to your next classes, not lingering in the room. The Marauders are a bit more slow. Sirius watches you leave the room before even moving to gather his things; this also means that Severus is out of the classroom when Sirius speaks.

“Another day, another rejection,” he sighs.

“I thought that’s what you like about her?” Peter asks, slightly leaning against his desk as the boys wait for Sirius to be ready to go.

He stands up and throws his bag over his shoulder. “Part of it. I mean, she’s gorgeous, sweet, kind, smart, funny, pretty, stubborn. Smells nice. Lovely smile.”

“Ah, we get it. You could go on forever,” James says, clamping a hand down on his shoulder. “Just like me and Evans. We’ll get there eventually.”

Peter snorts. “Yes, of course.”

“Oi! What do you mean?” Sirius snaps, turning around.

“He’s saying that when a girl says no, she means it,” Remus says with a smirk.

“Or…” James starts, “they just need time to come around. Get to know us a bit more.”

Remus and Peter make eye contact and roll their eyes.

---

A few days later, you’re working on a Potions assignment with Severus in the library. He finished the assignment a while ago, but stayed to answer your questions. You have more than you’d like.

“I really should just be able to put bezoar as the answer to these!” you sigh. “It’s a goddamn cure-all!”

“Do you have a collection of bezoars under your bed?” Severus asks, not looking up from his assignment.

“No.”

“Then you need to know other cures for poisons.”

You sigh again and flip a few pages in your textbook. You know Severus is right but it doesn’t make the assignment feel any less tedious and stupid.

Then Sirius walks up to your table. He doesn’t seem to notice Severus as his gaze is trained on you. He has a singular rose in his hand as he leans against the table with his free hand supporting him.

“Prince, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to Hogsmeade next weekend?” he asks, holding out the rose to you.

You don’t take it, but you do give him a polite smile.

“Sirius, you know the answer’s no.”

He sets the rose on the table between your parchment and your book. “Think about it? Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I won’t change my mind.”

“But you’ll think about it,” he says with a hint of hope in his usually suave voice.

You roll your eyes. He smirks and leaves the table, leaving you to turn your attention back to a now-gobsmacked Severus.

“You know the answer’s no? What the bloody hell was that?” he hisses, leaning forward.

“Don’t get worked up. Getting a reaction out of you is the only reason he’s been asking me out,” you say calmly.

“How often has he asked you out?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Probably every few days? But, really, don’t give him what he wants. He’ll get bored eventually and move on to something else.”

Severus makes a noise that sounds like a growl before dropping the subject. To you, Sirius’ flirting wasn’t all that horrible. It was mild, really. And even if it was just to get at Severus, it still feels nice to be flirted with from time to time.

You forget about Sirius’ invite to Hogsmeade until Tuesday. He had left you alone all weekend, which you hadn’t expected. You’re sitting in the Charms classroom next to Meredith as you wait for Professor Flitwick to start the lesson. Sirius enters with the rest of the Marauders, but the other three boys go straight to their seats. Sirius strolls up to your desk with an easy smile on his face.

“So, love, did you reconsider my offer for this weekend?” he asks.

“Nothing’s changed, Black,” you say, not even bothering to look at him.

His smile shifts into a smirk as he leans down to say, “Well, there’s still time. It’s only Tuesday.”

You raise your eyebrows in mild annoyance. He doesn’t seem to notice, but Meredith did, using her hand to block her smile. Sirius turns to find his seat next to Remus. Remus, already knowing your answer without having to hear it, has an amused look on his face. Sirius getting turned down when girls are usually putty in his hands is a much-needed change of pace in Remus’ opinion. Ever since Sirius set his eyes on you, he hasn’t paid as much attention to any other girl. Not like he used to.

Somehow Sirius doesn’t realize that he’s now done something he’s never done before: flirted with you twice in front of Severus. In the library, you’d been at the same table as him and able to tell him to let it go, that it wasn’t worth getting worked up over. This time you are a few desks away from. Close enough for Severus to hear what Sirius said to you, but far enough that you don’t notice his knuckles turning white from gripping the desk. He manages to keep it together the lesson and the next. Then, he makes it his mission to find Sirius.

The Marauders are lounging near the Black Lake when Severus spots them. Normally, he tries to avoid him so he has to gather some courage to even walk up to them. He keeps telling himself that he’s doing this for you, even if you say it’s no big deal.

“Black,” Severus says firmly with some edge to his voice once he reaches the boys.

“Snivellus! What a surprise!” James exclaims, sitting up slightly with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What d’you want?” Sirius asks, sounding bored. He knows they don’t have any prank for him planned at the moment, nor have they pranked him within the past two weeks.

“I need you to stay away from my cousin,” Severus practically snarls. “It’s fucking cowardly to try to torment me through her. Your problem is with me, not her. Leave her out of it.”

The boys exchange confused looks, none of them saying anything. Remus clears his throat.

“Erm, who is your cousin?” he asks.

Severus crosses his arms, casting an annoyed look at Remus. “You know who my cousin is.”

“No? ‘Fraid we don’t follow everyone’s bloodline,” James says.

“Y/N.”

Sirius chokes on his spit before gasping, “Prince?”

“You really didn’t know?” Severus asks slowly, his eyes flitting between the Marauders.

Remus is trying to hold in his laughter because this revelation just made your denials even better. Sirius stares at Severus with an unreadable expression – there are so many thoughts swirling in his brain that he can’t settle on a single emotion.

“Just… leave her alone,” Severus says.

With that, he heads back to the castle. He doesn’t quite believe that Sirius didn’t know. How could he not know? His friends know. Your friends know. Surely Lily told her friends as well, which would sadly include Remus and by extension, Sirius.

“At least Evans isn’t related to anyone foul,” Peter deadpans once Severus is a good distance away.

“She’s… No. There’s no way she’s related to him. She’s so… and he’s just… Ugh,” Sirius says, most of his thoughts fizzling before he can articulate them.

“What would Snively get out telling us that?” Remus asks.

“Maybe he’s trying to keep her to himself or something!”

“Right, because being attracted to his cousin is something he wants to admit to?”

“Shut up.”

Remus barks a laugh. Peter and James echo it, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting them. Sirius has been pining for Severus' cousin without knowing it. He doesn’t understand how that’s possible. How are you related to him?

Sirius gets up and walks away from his friends. They call after him but he doesn’t turn back. He needs to clear his head, sort through his thoughts to make sense of it all. He ends up inside the castle, aimlessly wandering the corridors without any rhyme or reason. Then he runs into you. Literally. His body crashes into yours as you turn the same corner.

“Shit, sorry,” he says, holding out a hand to help you up after standing up himself. “I’m… sorry.”

He hurries away from you. He doesn’t look back. Sirius’ one goal now is to get far away from you until he figures out how to process your relation to Severus. You watch Sirius practically run away from you with a baffled expression on your face. This boy had flirted with you shamelessly and with no one around, he’s sprinting away from you like you have the plague. It’s peculiar, but reinforces that he only flirts with you to get at Severus.

Sirius ends up in the Astronomy Tower, leaning against the railing. How could he like you this much without knowing you are related to Snape? How had he not figured it out? You aren’t that similar; you tolerate him better than any other non-Slytherin. Except maybe it’s not tolerating if you’re family. Sirius shakes his head. You don’t have to like your family, he knows that. But you talk to Snape. You study with him. He acknowledges you in the corridors and the library.

Being related to Snape doesn’t change who you are. You are still the wonderful girl that he adores. You are still gorgeous. You still crack jokes with your friends. You still know what you’re doing in class. You’re the same girl.

It takes Sirius longer than he’d like to admit that he can get over it. He doesn’t accept it while he’s standing in the Astronomy Tower. It takes him seeing you in class a few times and hearing your voice carry across the room for him to realize that he really likes you. Nothing is going to change that. Sirius sees you in a whole new light and somehow you’re impossibly better. He sees you talking with Severus after Potions and he’s not turned away by it. The urge to approach you and pull you close to him is as strong as ever.

Sirius needs to figure out how to tell you that he’s actually interested in you for you, not for the entertainment of pissing off Snape. Although, he does have to admit, pissing off Snape would be a huge plus. He stands down for a little bit. His previous methods of flirting and asking you out didn’t work. He’d need to try something new. Something that wasn’t as Sirius. Maybe that’d get through to you.

“Moony, got any ideas?” Sirius asks as he reclines on his bed, throwing a ball into the air and catching again.

“Working on a charm to have that snake statue on the third floor squirt gobstone juice on Slytherins…”

“No, with Y/N. How do I get her to get that I really fancy her?”

Remus sends a lazy glance toward Sirius. “Isn’t that a question for Prongs?”

“Our methods haven’t been working. We think too much alike. You, you think differently.”

“Yeah, I don’t think with my dick.”

“Hey!”

Remus laughs. “It’s the truth, Padfoot. Use that brain, put in some effort, make it personal.”

“Personal…” Sirius murmurs to himself. That is something he can work with. It wasn’t like he hadn’t put effort into asking you out – some of his methods were extravagant in the past.

Sirius needs to brainstorm more. He knows he needs something specifically you. Something that will catch your eye and show that he really knows you and cares about you. A simple bouquet of flowers wouldn’t do. A serenade, a poem or a grand gesture are all no’s. Sirius needs it to be perfect so that you’ll say yes and give him an actual chance to prove himself.

You feel like Sirius has started watching you more. He doesn’t ask you out or flirt anymore. He still says hi when he passes you in the corridor and sometimes he asks how you’re doing, but nothing more than short pleasantries. You don’t mind it. Your friends are intrigued by his change of behavior. Meredith thinks Sirius has moved onto someone else, but you can’t figure out who. Abby doesn’t have any idea either.

“If he’s chasing someone else, why is he watching us?” Abby asks when you’re studying in the library.

“Hoping for homework answers?” Meredith offers. She knows it’s a longshot, but still worth suggesting.

“No. He’s too smart for that. And he has friends who could give him the answers,” you say.

The three of you all look his way at the same time. He looks away as soon as he meets your eyes, turning his head to pretend like he is deeply involved in his friends’ conversation. Meredith and Abby giggle at that. You tilt your head. Curious.

Another week or so passes and the treatment from Sirius remains the same. Polite but with a distance. You’re not sure how you feel about it. It’s nice at first, but now it feels strange. Did he finally succeed at pissing off Severus and now you were just another Hufflepuff? Abby and Meredith are still trying to figure out who Sirius has moved on to.

You’re sitting alone in the library. You have your Potions homework out in front of you. Severus had originally told you he’d help you but bailed last minute. So you’re alone and despising Slughorn more and more with each passing minute. You hear footsteps approach you, but you don’t look up. The person pulls out the chair across from you and sits down.

“Y/N,” Sirius says calmly with a small smile.

Now you have to look up. After keeping his polite distance, he’s sitting with you, and looking at you with a soft expression.

“Sirius,” you say back to him.

He reaches into a bag and pulls out a neatly wrapped package that looks to be about the size of your Potions’ textbook. He slides it across the table. You look from the package to Sirius and back.

“It’s for you. You can open it,” he says.

“What is it?”

“It’s a gift. You open it to find out.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he repeats back to you.

“Why did you get me a gift?”

He sighs and pushes the gift even closer to you.

“I’ll tell you when you open it.”

“With your reputation, opening this could be dangerous…” you say while thumbing the wrapping.

Sirius watches you intently as you slowly peel back the brown wrapping. A grin slowly spreads across his face as he sees your face light up. He had given you a framed painting of a Chinese Fireball – your favorite dragon. It’s a beautiful painting with intricate details. You trace your fingers over the glass of the frame.

“Every time I asked you out, I wasn’t thinking about… Severus.” Sirius tries not sound disgusted when he says Snape’s name. He clears his throat. “I, erm, I fancy you. I really do. I’d love to treat you to butterbeers or walk around the greenhouses with you or, hell, I’ll sit here and help you study for-” He leans forward to see what subject you are working on. “-Potions. Not sure how much help I’ll be, but Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms… But I know you don’t really need help with those subjects. I just want you to give me a chance. Please.”

You can’t bring yourself to look away from the painting.

“Um, Y/N? Did you hear me?”

You look up slowly. There’s a glassy look to your eyes that Sirius wasn’t expecting. He needs you to say something so he knows if he sorely messed up or did something right. Reading emotions is easier when tears aren’t involved.

“How did you know?” you whisper; you fear if you spoke any louder, your voice would shake and the tears would fall.

“That you like Chinese Fireballs? That’s easy. I’ve seen the way your face lights up when dragons come up and you’re the most passionate about them.”

You open your mouth, close it and open it again. “And it was never about Severus?”

“Never.”

“Then yes. You can plan a date and I’ll go with you.”

“Thank you. Thank you!” Sirius stands up, turns to leave but stops. “Saturday sound good?”

“Yes, Sirius. I’ll meet you in the bell tower.”

“Brilliant.”

---

You don’t tell Meredith nor Abby about your upcoming date with Sirius until Saturday morning. You knew that they would freak out and cause a scene. But when they see you getting ready, you can’t hide it anymore.

“Who are you getting all prettied up for, darling?” Meredith asks.

“I have a date. It’s no big deal.”

Abby perks up. “A date? With who? And why haven’t we heard of this before now?”

“Erm, it’s with Sirius…”

“Sirius? As in Sirius Black?” Abby asks.

You nod. You straighten your shirt and turn around.

“Yes. Do I look okay?”

“You’re actually going on a date with Sirius? After all this time? What changed?” Meredith asks, leaning forward from where she sits.

“I don’t know how to explain it. Something just shifted.”

You take one last look in the mirror before leaving your dorm. You go straight to the bell tower and you only have to wait a short time for Sirius to show up. You want to laugh at how excited he looks. Even with his wide smile, he still maintains an exceptionally suave look.

“You look absolutely lovely, Prince. Shall we start the best date of your life?” he asks, taking your hand in his and bringing it up to his lips kiss it.

“Best date of my life? Let’s see what you got.”

Still holding your hand, Sirius leads you out of the castle and off school grounds. You want to ask where he’s taking you, but you don’t. Something tells you that even if you had asked, Sirius wouldn’t have told you. This date is his. You know you have to trust him.

Eventually, you come to a clearing that overlooks a larger field. Down in the field are sheep, cows and puffskeins. Like when he had given you the dragon painting, your face lights up. All the animals look so peaceful and content as they exist in their individual herds. Sirius stands next to you, watching your reaction carefully.

“I figured we could eat lunch here and then if you wanted, go a little farther-” You look at Sirius with eyebrows raised. “There’s a hippogriff nest not too far from here. There’s usually a few flying around nearby if they aren’t in the actual nest. I thought you might like to see it.”

Your eyes widen, taking your expression from incredulous to wonder.

“There’s a hippogriff nest near here?”

“Magical creatures all around Hogwarts if you know where to look.”

You look back to the field below. It’s a truly serene sight. Sirius, however, can’t take his eyes off you and the way you’re looking across the field. He can tell that you don’t get out of the castle much to explore; you’re a Hogwarts and Hogsmeade girl. You’ve probably never stepped foot into the Forbidden Forest.

You don’t notice when Sirius disappears from your side until you hear the ttsss of a bottle opening. You spin around to see Sirius finish setting up a picnic with all of the fixings. He holds up a butterbeer for you to take. You make yourself comfortable on the blanket Sirius had spread on the ground and let Sirius make you a plate. Usually, you’d say you could make your own plate, but he is already putting all of your favorites on the plate. You didn’t consider that Sirius would know all of your favorite foods and desserts already.

“How am I doing so far?” he asks as he hands you the plate.

“No one’s ever taken me to see puffskeins or offered to show me a hippogriff nest. I mean, maybe if I asked Kettleburn, but…” You give Sirius a small smile. “This is nice. And the food looks amazing!”

He returns your smile with a brilliant grin, like he just won a massive trophy.

“You just have to ask the house elves nicely.” He takes a small sip of his butterbeer. “So how has your week been? Did you get that Potions assignment figured out?”

You did. You give Sirius a brief recap of your week, which was fairly uneventful. He listens intently, asking questions and responding politely in the correct places. When you ask him about his week, he delves into a detailed story about a prank he pulled with the boys that made a corridor unusable until Filch manages to clean it up.

When you finish eating, Sirius is quick to clean up the picnic. You offer to help but he turns you down. Then he takes your hand again and leads you down the path before veering off to the side. You gasp when you see it. The hippogriff nest. There’s a baby hippogriff resting with its mother and in the sky, a few more hippogriffs are circling.

“Merlin… this is… amazing…” you say breathlessly.

“Yeah,” he says in a voice just as soft as yours. “Better if we stay back. You know, they spook easily.”

“Yeah, I know. They’re just so magnificent.”

“Just like you.”

You blush, giving Sirius a shy look. He’s already looking at you like you’re the most precious thing on the planet. You’re certain that no one has ever looked at you like that before and it only makes your blush deepen. You stand in silence, staring at Sirius for a few moments, and then you look back at the hippogriffs. Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest, trying to escape. As you watch the hippogriffs for a while longer, Sirius can’t take his eyes off of you. He could watch you like his forever, he thinks.

Eventually, the two of you head back to the castle, Sirius’ hand intertwined with yours. He walks with you as far as the kitchens.

“I had fun, Sirius,” you say.

“I’m glad. I did too.” He pauses as he admires your face. “Maybe we can do it again sometime. Or something similar. Or completely different.”

“Another date. I… I think that’d be nice.”

Sirius brings your hand up to his face and kisses it again before gently letting it go and disappearing back up the stairs. You head into Hufflepuff Common Room. Meredith and Abby spot you immediately and run up to you, demanding details of the date. You obliged them with a giddy smile that you can’t wipe off, even if you tried. But you don’t want to. The date was sweet. Sirius was sweet.

It doesn’t take long for word to spread through the castle that you went on a date with Sirius. He has that effect. It also wasn’t like people didn’t see you leave and return to the castle holding hands with him, nor had people been ignorant to his flirting with you. Some people claimed that they called it; others were surprised that you finally said yes since you seemed so dead set on saying no each time.

Then there is Severus. He finds you in the library later in the week, after refusing to meet your eyes in classes. He’s fuming when he approaches the table you’re working at.

“Why the hell would you go on a date with him?” Severus snarls, placing his hands firmly on the table.

“Would you believe me if I said he asked nicely?” you reply, not looking up from your work. Severus had ignored you all week and this is how he says hello?

“Black is a horrible person. You know this. He has made my life a living hell!”

You sigh. “I don’t think he’s as bad as you think.”

“Y/N…”

“Don’t act like you’ve never done anything bad, Sev.”

“Nothing compared to what he’s done!”

“Do you remember Lily?” you ask, finally looking up at Severus and he recoils slightly at the expression on your face. “We used to be a trio. And now she barely talks to me because I remind her too much of you. You are not as innocent as you pretend to be.”

“Do not bring her up!”

“I’m just saying, Severus. He was a complete gentleman and I think he genuinely likes me. Merlin forbid I actually give him a chance.”

“He’s using you to get at me.”

“He says he isn’t.”

“And you believe him?”

“Yes! And whether you like it or not, I’ve agreed to go on another date with him. You can deal with it.”

Severus gives a humph before storming out of the library. You watch him go with a slightly frown, but you don’t go after him. He’s your cousin. He doesn’t get to decide who you date. Not when Sirius just took you on the perfect date.

tags: @navs-bhat, @bruxa0007

#marauders #marauders fic #marauder-misprint #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black fluff #request #hufflepuff!reader #Prince!reader

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moodient · 1 month ago

Text

Chrysanthemum

pairing: ambessa + reader

a//n: finally GOOGLE DOCS HAS RELEASE ME FROM JAIL!! ENJOY!!

tw: character death!

Synopsis: Reader owns a flower shop called, “My Little Rose” passed down by her mother who unfortunately passed away. Ambessa who is an extreme property investor, offers to buy your flower shop but it's all you have of your mother' shop so of course you reject it, and it becomes a bet between you two, but little did you know, every time Ambessa came to visit, the chrysanthemums would bloom.

chapter one: my dormant seedling

My Little Rose was my favorite place to go when I was a kid. The interior was nothing more than floral, hanging pots all over the ceilings, bookshelves filled the spaces. Smelling the flowers as the seasons pass by, snowdrops and hellebores for the winter. The cold air kissed your nose and your cheeks as the door constantly opened and closed. Your mom used to make you your favorite hot drink as you admired the flowers, sitting on a couch that was close to the register. You watched as your mom worked, helping customers with her warm and gentle smile and pleasant and her professional ideas. As she waved them goodbye, she told you to come over, and she placed you on the table.

“Is it yummy?” She asked you, smiling at you with warmth, tenderly, loving. You nodded with your eyes filled with innocence and joy. You took another sip of your drink, it’s warm, sweet, strong and it fills your heart with happiness. If you could live in this moment over and over again you would.

Cherry blossoms and primrose for spring, your mom would take you to her favorite garden, holding your hand, walking slowly so your legs can keep up. You were now a teenager, looking at the flowers, fascinated and enticed. You didn’t even know how amazed and in love with flowers you truly were, softly touching their delicate petals, smelling their sweet aroma and pleasant pollen. Your mother watched you interact with the flowers, how gentle you were, analyzing their size, their colors, and their stems. With this, she gets an idea and slowly starts teaching you the flowers in the garden.

“You see these small flowers on the tree; these are cherry blossoms. they’re small, yes but it’s very beautiful, isn’t it?” She explains while pointing up at the tree, with colorful petals that decorated the bud of it. It was a perfect display, naturally cultivated and blooming.

You nodded as you studied its form. She holds your hand tight and walks along the sidewalk leading to the next flowers, a small bush that is covered in all types of colorful flowers, white, pink, purple, red, and blue. They’re eye-catching and precious, keeping your eyes satisfied and pleased. You let go of your mom’s hand and ran towards them.

“They’re so pretty mama!” You giggled, leaning and looking at their beautiful petals. Your mom walks close to you kissing your cheek, as she watches your excitement. She looks over to the left and quickly sits up. Calling you over, she walks you to her one of favorite flowers.

“Ah! This one is the Lily of the Valley, the scent is sweet and look how cute the head is!” she exclaimed with excitement, lifting the small flower with her finger, gently. You get close, taking closer examinations of it, it looks like small upside-down cups, the scent sugary sweet but tastes bitter, the stems tall and flowers decorated them.

You always enjoyed times like this with your mother, her infatuation with flowers never failed to surprise you, she was like an encyclopedia of all things floral. Different species of flowers of all varieties, flowers that are safe but are unappealing to the eye, dangerous ones that are beautiful, poisonous ones, even flowers that have health benefits. She knew all of them without a doubt.

For the summer, sunflowers and peonies. It was a hot day like no other, a hot summer day at your family’s vacation. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but it has its charm. It was rustic, old but beautiful. You came here from time to time, whenever you needed to be away from the people. a break from the world, this was the place to be. You and your mother would sit in the backyard, viewing the city from afar, eating your favorite fruit chilled. As you sat there, you remember seeing sunflowers and peonies spread all over the field.

“Mom! Can we take photos with the sunflowers?” You asked, excited with a handful of fruit in your mouth, it’s sweet, cold, and refreshing. Your mom glanced at you with a face full of fruit and she laughed. She licked her thumb and wiped the juice on the corner of your mouth and licked it.

“Sure, honey.” is all you needed to hear before you ran back in the house. grabbing the camera clumsily, almost slipping but you catch the camera quickly. Your mom was already ready waiting outside, with a bag of bottled water, a small blanket and even some small props. Already jumping out the door, you grab your mother’s hand and start to walk down the trail towards the meadows.

“Raise your hand a little more, sweetie!” Your mom exclaimed, looking through the camera with one eye, capturing the moment. You were facing away from the camera, looking at the sunset. Wearing a floppy hat, holding the front up with your left hand. She quickly moves towards you, lifting your hand so it’s the absolute perfect shot. It may not seem like much to you, but it meant to your mother. Seeing you like this, flowers that accentuated your aura, that lightened your mood, that made you smile when they bloomed in front of you or made you sad when they died, it made it all worthwhile for her.

Now, Fall... Dahlias and Chrysanthemums. Rain harshly fell to the ground and the wind blew in your face, making your face flinch back, and your goosebumps rise. Tears fell down your face as you looked at the gravestone. It’s your mother. It’s her name and a description on the bottom.

Mother, lover, friend, and supporter. May she rest in peace.

You held a bouquet of her favorite flowers. Daffodils, forget-me-nots and of course, white roses. It was wrapped in a pretty beige wrapping with pearls that decorated the wrapping paper in your hands, as they trembled. Your eyes bloodshot red, tear ducts dry and your throat completely closed from the crying and screams you let out. Your black attire is completely drenched in the world’s sadness, and cold from the world’s freezing heart. You walk close to her tombstone, kneeling to gently place her flowers down. You kiss the stone and close your eyes, having quick flashbacks of your mother, all the winters, the springs, the summers, and the fall.

“I’ll visit you every week, mother. I swear it.” You said, standing up, slowly walking away from the tombstone where your loved one was placed. You looked back one more time, eyes becoming weary and watery once more. Feeling regret and remorse, wishing you had more time. Another time to remember her, the sweet memories, the flowers... The flowers? The Flowers! You quickly ran back to the flower shop, My Little Rose. Unlocking the door, to see the flowers were still in good condition, you quickly took off your drenched jacket, and got to work, watering flowers, checking temperatures of the soil. Perfect, all the places are called for, in perfect condition, except for one. The chrysanthemums, soil was bone-dry, the petals falling apart, so you decided to start new with them, you quickly emptied the pot holding the flowers that have been dried away and ran quickly to grab new seedling and soil, placing the new soil and the dormant seedlings in the pot, and added some water.

You cleaned up the rest of the flower shop, sweeping and mopping the floor, organizing wrapping papers and sorting the pretty accessories you can add. It tools hours and hours to reorganize the backroom, putting all the seeds in alphabetical order, putting away all the unused flowerpots, fixing and cleaning the gardening tools. As you moved the tools, you found a photo album, but when you opened it, you were completely shocked. Photos of you from when you were little and it even had descriptions on them. One of them, you were a baby, freshly born into the world, the writing underneath said, “my little love bud~” Another one, you were a toddler, you were eating some sort of cake, fingers gripping cake and frosting and a singular candle that was recently blown out. Underneath it is written, "my blossoming one year old.” You continued to look through it, you didn’t even notice you were crying until you saw a droplet touch the image. You wipe your eyes as you continue until you back up, holding a sheet of paper, a letter from your mom, it’s not much written but the context is important.

“Hello my little bloom,

By the time you read this, I’ll be long gone but don’t worry about me. I’ll be watching you from above, protecting you and watching over your footsteps. You’re probably wondering what to do with the store. Honestly, honey. I want you to focus on you. However, the property is now yours, but I want you to enjoy your life and live it and if you need to sell the flower shop, please do it. Stay healthy and breathe life. I love you, My Little Rose. Stay beautiful and floral. -Mother

You honestly didn’t know what to do, to keep the shop or to sell it and use the money to keep yourself afloat. But you couldn’t just give it all up, your mom worked so hard for this shop, even the days that she didn’t feel well or was suffering from fevers and flus. You quickly got in contact with your mom’s former property broker, explaining what happened. She wishes you condolences and explains what will happen. Property is now in your name, but there’s a problem, your mother had debts, a lot and now that she’s gone. And you barely had money yourself, thinking, panicking, heavy breathing. You concluded the call, trying to think of ideas, plans, something that could give you money to at least keep yourself afloat.

You’re in your head deep, lost in thoughts. Getting up, you walk back and forth, still lost. You didn’t even know that someone was watching you, an extremely tall woman, perfect dark skin decorated with scars and grey hair, due to stress and naturally with age. Wearing a dark red vest and dress pants, black close toed shoes, gold accessories. Her aura alone screams money, dominance, and power. It scares you at first, chills down your spine, she taps her foot and looks down at her very expensive watch. Her narrow hazel eyes glared at you with impatience and disappointment, waiting for you to introduce yourself or at least, respond.

“Uhm, hello. Welcome to My Little Rose, unfortunately the shop is closed for the week.” You said to her, rubbing the back of your neck. You easily shrunk in her aura, like a lion to a mouse. She walks close to the counter, pulling up a business card from her vest pocket. It reads, “Ambessa Medarda, owner of Medarda Properties.” with her phone number, email and even her fax number. You looked at her confused and left it on the counter.

“Hello, my name is Ambessa Medarda, owner of Medarda Properties. It’s very… nice to meet you.” She says, voice as smooth of butter, tone rich but deep. She speaks with purpose, and every movement is direct. She holds her hand out to shake yours and of course, you put your hand together with her. Her hand completely takes over yours, engulfing it into a firm grasp and shake.

“Ambessa Medarda, nice to meet you but I don’t understand why you’re... here.” You said as you slowly realized, she’s here to buy your property. Right here and right now. You’re not going to lie, you did have thoughts of selling it, but you felt that all those memories would just disappear, the good memories and the bad ones. All of that would be gone. Forgotten, under a new name and appearance. The times of you accidentally overwatering the plants and your mom reassuring you to the point that nothing felt like it mattered, decorating your first bouquet for a wedding and the bride absolutely loved it. Even the time a guy had a crush on you and he asked you out by making you make your own bouquet and him asking you with that same bouquet, of course you declined but it was still a core memory for you. All of that would be gone, with a couple signatures and a handshake.

She sighs, and pulls out a folder, opening it, it’s a contract. It’s thin, a few pages but enough for you to be concerned. She also pulls out a pen and a small red paint. This all was happening too fast for you, you were now heavy breathing, heart beating faster than you can count. You slammed your hand on the counter, stopping Ambessa in her tracks. This is the first time someone has stopped her and it kind of throws her for a loop.

“I’m sorry, but I refuse to sign this.” You glared at her, not being able to control your emotions. Your mother just passed away a couple of days ago, and now this rich hungry property pig comes by and tries to buy the property.

She frowns and glares at you, taking back the pen and paint. She then pulls out another paper, markings of how downhill the payments were on the flower shop, the amount were at a constant decrease. Sure, she didn’t have a constant flow in customers, but she did make a lot of money. Especially because she grows her own flowers and makes the bouquet special to the client. You were pretty shocked to actually see it, especially because your mother never talked about it.

“I’m sorry, miss. But you’re too far in paying back your loan and certain bills. If you don’t pay another loan, the government will just take it. But I’m giving you an ultimatum, if you sell the flower shop to me, I promise you’ll be able to visit the shop or whatever it may change to.” Ambessa said, hand now on the counter, looking down at you. You can’t. You can’t give this up, you barely even had a start, but fuck the government and hell no to Ambessa Medarda.

“How much time do I have left... And how much do I need to make?” You asked, looking back up at her, eyes filled with determination and filled with purpose. Ambessa smiled and closed her eyes, shaking her head. She pulls out her phone, doing quick calculations and equations. After a few seconds, she shows you her phone. It’s 10,000 dollars... 10 thousand... dollars.

“You have until April.” she says, crossing her arms and looking at the calendar. You whipped your head to look at the calendar, it is now November. That’s at least five months for you to make a large amount of money. You took a deep breath as you walked into the lion's den, you had tons of battles to fight, putting on your war face. You held your hand out, waiting to shake hers.

“If I make 10,000 dollars, is it possible for all the debt to be repaid?” You asked. Ambessa’s eyes glowed a golden color, hazing over her eyes as she smirks.

If you make 10,000 dollars, I’ll pay the rest of your debts and I’ll leave you alone.” She says grabbing your hand, shaking it roughly. But then she pulls you close, feeling her body on yours.

“But if you lose, you and your property are all mine.” She says seductively in your eyes, your face now flushed, and eyes glazed with a shyness but not afraid. You never realized how much mass she has, not only is she curvy but her muscles have pierced her clothing, with certain veins popping through. She pulls you away and takes the contract back but leaves the business card. She starts making her way out the door, opening it and looking back at you.

“I’ll see you later, little one.” She says as she closes the door, and her entire aura has left the building. You didn’t even realize what the fuck you’ve done but you’re in it now and you have to make your mother proud and prove Ambessa wrong. But holy fuck, you’re in deep shit now.

#moodie 💫#ambessa medarda #ambessa x reader #arcane ambessa #ambessa x you #ambessa medarda x reader

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xmalereader · 2 years ago

Text

Simon Riley x Hybrid! Male Reader

|| Masterlist ||

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Authors Note: I’m back! I want to start off by saying thank you everyone for being patient with me and for 8k followers! I know this shot isn’t long and pretty short, but I will be working on more soon. Unfortunately, at this time I am in my Hybrid era phase for some reason ( ◠‿◠ ) sooo don’t judge me. Also the beautiful artwork below belongs to @ave661 all credit goes to them please follow them because their work is amazing!

Summary: Simon finally gets to retire and get the peace that he finally needs in life, only for Laswell to convince him to take home a hybrid companion back home as company.

Warnings: Fluff, simple plot, hybrid dog reader, Simon is a softy, nightmares, mentions of service dog, military, history, short story, animal features and characteristics.

Word Count: 1.3K

—

Simon wasn’t one for retirement.

His whole life he thought that he would be protecting people until the day that he is shot dead in the field.

Only to end up retiring.

He wasn’t retiring because of his age, no. He was retiring for being tired of having to see so much pain and bloodshed, seeing it when he was only a child and going into adulthood something that he never stopped hearing or seeing in his life. He reached a point where he no longer wanted to deal with this blood shed and finally be able to sit back without having to worry about someone trying to kill him.

When Simon made the decision of leaving the special forces he knew it was the right choice that he ended up surprising Price. The same man that he met when he first joined the military, befriending the older man and trusting him with his life. He expected Price to reject his retirement request only for the man to give him his approval on the spot, knowing Simon well enough to know that he needed this break. This peace in his life.

When news spread that ‘Ghost’ was officially retiring it shocked the whole base to know that the most dangerous and intimidating man that the know will be leaving his military life behind for something normal. Price had helped him find a remote place for him to stay in the meantime until he decided to either leave and find somewhere else to call home or perhaps stay at the small house that Price was able to find him.

Simon thought that it would be an easy start until Laswell recommended that he get himself a ‘service dog’ or a ‘companion’ to keep him company. He was against the idea of having someone or something living in the same place as him and so soon, but Laswell had insisted to give it a try in order to have some company around in case he ever felt too isolated from society. Which he later caves into Laswells offer and agrees to have a companion of his own.

Simon expected someone that Laswell and Price knew that had the balls to stay with him until he got adjusted to having a normal life, only to come face to face with a very rare and calm German Shepherd Hybrid.

Simon had heard about Hybrids co existing with society, living their lives hiding from the others due to them being so different from others. It wasn’t until laws were established back in 2010 for Hybrids to be able to live a life like humans; getting jobs, owning homes and property along with getting an education. That didn’t mean that they were entirely free.

Hybrids still had their own set of strict rules. Any hybrid who showed signs of aggression towards a human would be locked away, still keeping them in check for years knowing that they didn’t have total control of their own biology, but after years the laws changed either getting harsher or lighter for them to cope with, reaching a point where hybrids were reaching extinction.

Many were taken, sold to black markets, slavery, or even used for their unique features caused many to go into hiding again or to slowly die off. Very few were protected, but in the end they all died.

The hybrid that Simon took with him wasn’t like the ones that he would see in public.

He was quiet and respectful of his boundaries, never doing anything that Simon didn’t like. He was technically a ‘service dog’ from what Laswell said, trained by her own special team and her wife in order to have Y/n help soldiers with trauma or perhaps those who feared being alone and in need of a friend.

Expect Simons situation was different, Y/n wasn’t just there to keep him company for a short period of time. Instead he was their permanently.

It took Simon some time to adjust to the hybrids existence whenever he woke up in the mornings only to come downstairs to see the hybrid cooking him breakfast other times he would find him outside tending to the ruined gardens, keeping himself busy while Simon focused on his own thing.

The two didn’t really converse with each other until two months into living together. It was the night that Y/n was woken up by the sound of Simons thrashing and heavy breathing that alerted him to rush into Simon’s room. He can smell the sweat and anxiety off of him along with hearing his soft murmurs, clearly showing signs of a nightmare.

When Y/n first met Simon he promised the man that he wouldn’t do anything he didn’t like and kept well to his promise until now. His own instincts were going off and couldn’t stand to the side and watch the man deal with his nightmare. So, he did the only thing he knew what to do.

Y/n had crawled into Simons bed, lying down in the empty spot next to him and moving himself closer to the bigger man, head against his chest as his ears lower in worry when he hears how fast his heart is beating. “Simon…” He whispers in a soft tone, glancing up at the man in distraught. “I’m here Simon, you’re not alone.” He adds on, keeping his head against his chest while his tail brushed up against his hip, causing a small gasp to escape his lips when he feels Simons hand take hold of his tail in his sleep. The soft fur on his tail quickly relaxing the man as his heavy breathing decreases.

The hybrid ears perk up as he listens to his heart beat, hearing it slow down to a proper rate. He stays in this position for the rest of the night without another nightmare occurring.

When Simon woke up that morning he was shocked to find Y/n in bed with him, curled up close to his chest. The warmth of the others mans body heat brings him a sense of comfort, instead of getting out of bed and waking up the hybrid he instead stays in bed a little longer, watching the other man sleep against him.

Simon hated the idea of having company for his first few weeks of retirement, but after getting used to Y/n’s presences in his life their are current things that Simon had grown adjusted to in his every day life. The smell of breakfast being made every morning by the hybrid became a familiar routine, finding the man on his hands and knees while he tends to the backyard digging up a few holes in order to plant new flowers or perhaps some fruit.

Simon favorite part of their day together was sitting outside on the porch as they watched the horizon. Simon would notice the way that Y/n’s ears would twitch as he listens to his surroundings taking in the familiar noise that he hears every morning. The way that his tail would wag whenever he sees kids running down the street with their bikes or scooters in hand, hearing as they would argue with each other and laugh.

The image alone brought a small smile to Simons lips.

Their bonded deepened with time to the point that the two were having regular day to day conversations. Y/n was no longer the closed off and shy hybrid that would be cautious when speaking with Simon and instead became someone who wasn’t afraid to speak up for himself or to be selfish every once an while.

Simon could say that he was grateful for Laswell convincing him to bring Y/n into his life, having him as a company whenever he came home or when the two would go out to run some simple errands, granting Simon the domestic life that he craved for whenever he was on missions and he finally has it

#Simon Riley x male reader #hybrid male reader #male reader #ghost x male reader #ghost x reader #Simon Riley x reader #retirement #simon riley mw2 #simon riley imagine #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost #ghost cod

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captainuranium543 · 16 days ago

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Im actually dying rn (i have the common cold) so here's now i think team property damage would react to such ailments

Lucy

She gets dramatic. She is sick and she is dying. She is a beautiful flower wilting far too soon. She is sitting in her bed looking thoughtfully off into the fading evening sun and wondering if she might ever feel its warmth on her skin again. Occasionally, people come by and offer her tea and medicine, mere gestures she knows, it is far too late for her.

In all seriousness lucy takes pretty good care of herself and she will be fine in a couple of days, but during those couple of days she will spend her time alone writing and unironically make some of her best work. Something about being sick unlocks the inner Victorian in her. She is temporarily possessed by William Shakespeare as she feverishly writes the lines of her heart. Sometimes she lies about being sick just to get work done because it's the only time she can be left alone for more than a couple hours, not that it works really, because her team will SIT OUTSIDE HER DOOR and then occasionally knock and ask if she's feeling better yet (they do this at least once every hour without fail)

Gray

Gray also gets better in a couple days but inexplicably so because he does fuck all in terms of actually trying to get better. He refuses any and all medicine. All he does is lie in his house for hours in complete solitude (unfortunately for juvia). He doesnt even sleep he just fucking lies there. People will come by to check up on him, but he will always turn them away and insist he will be fine in 3 days. Nobody ever believes him, but somehow, he is spot on every single time and will show up back at the guild like nothing happened just as people are starting to qomder if hes dead. Nobody knows how or why he does this but hey man if it works it works.

Natsu

You might expect lucy to act like kind of a princess when she's sick given how she was raised but nah. Thats natsu. Natsu will go to the guild because he doesn't like being alone when he's sick and then immediately head for the medbay to make himself a pillow nest worthy of the dragon king. If anyone enters that room he will always make some kind of hyper specific request that needs to be fulfilled immediately or else he will explode. Some such requests include but are not limited to

- chicken soup at 94°C prepared by specifically lucy

- 18 entire rotissary chickens and one lime

- grays head on a silver platter (not delivered)

- for "everyone to shut the fuck up"

In all honesty, people go along with his demands because they know that his dragon sense make being sick and actual nightmare. He can't smell anything, which for him is a bit like going blind, and he's already so overwhelmed by all the things going on within his body that hearing everything within 100km radius starts to drive him a little insane. He needs to be in the guildhall because he wants to be close enough to sense everyone still, but he also cannot deal with the usual noise so he baracades himself in pillows and everyone tries really hard to be quiet for his sake. Luckily, natsu has a pretty killer immune system, so this doesn't happen often

Erza

I've already said this before but i have a hyper specific way I think she reacts. She starts off by ignoring it and going about her day, when it inevitably gets worse she will start treating it like shes fighting a war. She will go out of her way to take as many jobs as possible just to prove that she can, she will reject any and all help and it will take physically forcing it down her throat to make her take medicine. The only way she's resting is if she is tied to the bed. Her illness will go on the longest because she will work herself to exhaustion out of pure spite until she inevitably collapses and becomes weak enough that people can force her to rest. Once that happens, she will whine and moan and complain about it every step of the way because she is the worst. the only difference is now she's too tired to do anything about it.

Again, this is smth everyone only put up with because being sick is kind of awful for her. She doesn't like feeling weak. It triggers all of her worst trauma responses and everyone knows it. Luckily for the entire guild, she gets sick every couple of years so they only have to deal with that once in a blue moon.

Wendy

Wemdy also almsot never gets sick for obvious reasons, but every so often a particularly nasty cold will come along, and her healing will take a bit more time. Whenever this happens, she will go absolutely insane. She's not really used to being sick and that, plus her dragon slayer sense being fucked, will leave her convinced its her last few days on earth. She will go through the 5 stages of grief over the course of the next week until she eventually accepts her death and starts trying to find a way to say goodbye to everyone without bursting into tears. Like natsu she needs to be around people but she also needs absolute silence (even more then natsu does because where natsu has the best sense of smell of all the dragon slayers, she has the best hearing) and a constant slightly chilly air temperature or else she will actually lose it. They set her up a nest on the roof of the guildhall because the wind up there acts as natural white noise to drown out the people, and the altitude calms her down. She will only come down in the middle of the night to eat actual food. besides that, she survives off air for the foreseeable future. All things considered for a dragon slayer her demands are not that hard to meet, but even if they were the guild wouldent hesitate since shes always treating everyone else's injuries. Thank God shes not the one demanding grays head on a silver platter because then they might actually do it

#fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #gray fullbuster #erza scarlet #wendy marvell

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anotherhumaninthisworld · 4 months ago

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Frev friendships — Bonbonaparte

During my [sic, his?] second stay in the Army of Italy, Robespierre the younger had the opportunity to become quite closely linked with Bonaparte. During his first mission, he, like me, had made his acquaintance, but had not cultivated it as particularly as during the second one. Bonaparte had a very high regard for my two brothers, and especially for the eldest; he admired his talents, his energy, the purity of his patriotism and his intentions. So Bonaparte was sincerely a republican; I would even say that he was a montagnard republican; at least he had that effect on me by the way he looked at things at the time when I was in Nice. Mémoires de Charlotte Robespierre sur ses deux frères (1835), p. 127. Going off the timeline given in Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte (1885), it sounds rather strange for Augustin and Charlotte to have met Napoleon during their stay in Nice in the fall of 1793, seeing as the latter had left the town already on July 14 1793, being with the Army of Carteaux up until 9 October, after which he went to Toulon. Charlotte does however also write Augustin made frequent trips to the armies during their stay in Nice, so maybe an encounter happened here?

At the time when these circumstances occurred Bonaparte had just received his commission of captain of artillery. Shortly after he was sent to Toulon to command the works of the siege. About this period of his life, Bonaparte was very intimate with Robespierre the younger, with thom Junot was also well acquainted. Young Robespierre was what might be called an agreeable young man, animated by no bad sentiments, and believing, or feigning to believe, that his brother was led on by a parcel of wretches, every one of whom he would banish to Cayenne if he were in his place. Memoirs of the Duchess D' Abrantés (Madame Junot) (1832), page 76.

Bonaparte, after the siege of Toulon, was appointed brigadier-general, with orders to join the Army of Italy, under the orders of General Dumerbion; it was then, through the patronage of Aréna, that he became intimate with Robespierre the younger and Ricord and his wife, afterwards his protectors. From the time Bonaparte joined the first Army of Italy, holding very low rank, he desired and systematically sought to get to the top of the ladder by all possible means; fully convinced that women constituted a powerful aid, he assiduously paid court to the wife of Ricord, knowing that she exercised great influence over Robespierre the Younger, her husband's colleague. Memoirs of Barras: Member of the Directorate (1895), p. 148-149.

…I add to the names of the patriots that I have named to you, citizen Galmiche, judge in Vesoul, honest and talented man, citizen Morin, public prosecutor of the military tribunal, citizen Buonaparte, general head of the artillery of transcendent merit, the latter is Corsican, he only offers me the guarantee of a man of this nation who has resisted the caresses of Paoli, whose properties were ravaged by this traitor. Augustin in a letter to his brother, April 5 1794. This is the only conserved document in which Augustin mentions Napoleon that I know of.

The Emperor, for example, has told us, that while engaged in fortifying the coasts at Marseilles, he was a witness to the horrible condemnation of the merchant Hugues, a man of eighty-four years of age, deaf and nearly blind. In spite of his age and infirmities, his atrocious executioners pronounced him guilty of conspiracy: his real crime was him being worth eighteen millions. This he was himself aware of, and he offered to surrender his wealth to the tribunal, provided he might be allowed to retain five hundred thousand francs, which, he said, he could not live long to enjoy. But this proposition was rejected, and he was led to the scaffold. ”At this sight,” said Napoleon, "I thought the world was at an end" — an expression which lie was accustomed to employ on any extraordinary occasion. Barras and Fréron were the authors of these atrocities. The Emperor did Robespierre the justice to say, that he had seen long letters written by him to his brother, Robespierre the younger, who was then the Representative to the Army of the South, in which he warmly opposed and disavowed these excesses, declaring that they would disgrace and ruin the Revolution. Memorial de Sainte Helene: journal of the private life and conversations of the Emperor Napoleon at Saint Helena (1823), page 83-84. The letters from Maximilien to Augustin alluded to here cannot be found today.

Indeed that spring the friendship between Augustin and Napoleon was so marked that Tilly, the French consul in Genoa, writing to the French Minister for Foreign Affairs, referred to Bonaparte as the favourite and counsellor of Robespierre the Younger. Bonaparte tells us, and he may only be a little exaggerating, ‘He loved me much,’ and relates how, when Haller asked Augustin for supplies, ‘Robespierre would never sign anything to do with the army or the supplies without consulting me. He would say to Haller who was then administrator; “That’s good, but I must speak to Bonaparte”.’ […] Napoleon’s words to General Bertrand many years later were: ”I believe that Robespierre the Younger asked his brother to make me Commander of the Army of Italy, but Carnot opposed it. Augustin: the younger Robespierre by (2011) by Mary Young, chapter 16. Young cites Cahiers de St. Hélène 1816-1821 (1951) by Henri Gratien Bertrand, volume 2, as the source for this. She doesn’t give a source for the Tilly letter.

The brother of Robespierre, after the capture of Toulon, had been sent as commissary to the army of the Alps. Napoléon was considered as the hero of that memorable siege, and was appointed general of brigade: he was at Nice, where he commanded the artillery. His connexion with the army had brought about an intimacy with the young Robespierre, who appreciated him. It appears that the ruler of the convention had been informed of the uncommon talents of the conqueror of Toulon, and that he was desirous of replacing the commandant of Paris, Henriot, whose incapacity began to tire him. Here is a fact which I witnessed. My family owed to the promotion of Napoléon a more prosperous situation. To be nearer to him, they had established themselves at the Chateau Sallé, near Antibes, a few miles distant only from the head-quarters of the general; I had left St. Maximin to pass a few days with my family and my brother. We assembled together, and the general gave us every moment that was at his own disposal. He arrived one day more pre-occupied than usual, and, while walking between Joseph and myself, he announced to us that it depended upon himself to set out for Paris the next day, and to be in a position by which he could establish us all advantageously. For my part, the news enchanted me. To go to the great capital appeared to be the height of felicity, that nothing could overweigh. ”They offer me,” said Napoléon,” the place of Henriot. ”I am to give my answer this evening.” ”Well, what say you to it?” He hesitated a moment. ”Eh? eh?” rejoined the general, ”but it is worth the trouble of considering: it is not a case to be enthusiastic upon; it is not so easy to save one’s head at Paris as at St. Maximin. The young Robespierre is an honest fellow; but his brother is not to be trifled with: he will be obeyed. Can I support that man?! No, never. I know how useful I should be to him in replacing his simpleton of a commandant of Paris; but it is what I will not be. It is not yet time; there is no place honourable for me at present but the army. We must have patience: I shall command Paris hereafter!” Such were the words of Napoléon. He then expressed to us his indignation against the reign of terror, of which he announced the approaching downfall: he finished by repeating several times, half gloomy, half smiling: ”What should I do in that galley?” The young Robespierre solicited him in vain. A few weeks after, the 9th Thermidor arrived, to deliver France, and justified the foresight of the general. Memoirs: Lucien Bonaparte, prince of Canino (1836), p. 42-43.

When attached to the Army of Nice or of Italy, [Napoleon] became a great favourite with the representative Robespierre the younger, whom he described as possessing qualities very different from his brother: the latter Napoleon never saw. Robespierre the younger, on being recalled to Paris by his brother, sometime before the 9th ef Thermidor, exerted every endeavour to prevail on Napoleon to accompany him. ”If I had not firmly resisted," observed the Emperor, "who knows whither this first step might have led me, and for what a different destiny I might have been reserved!” Memorial de Sainte Helene: journal of the private life and conversations of the Emperor Napoleon at Saint Helena (1823) page 85.

In the course of our conversation, relative to Robespierre, the Emperor said, that he had been very well acquainted with his brother, the younger Robespierre, the representative to the Army of Italy. He said nothing against this young man, whom he had inspired with great confidence and considerable enthusiasm for his person. Previously to the 9th of Thermidor, young Robespierre being recalled by his brother, who was then secretly laying his plans, insisted on Napoleon's accompanying him to Paris. The latter experienced the greatest difficulty in ridding himself of the importunity, and at length only escaped it by requesting the interference of the General-in-chief, Dumerbion, whose entire confidence he possessed, and who represented that it was absolutely necessary he should remain where he was. ”Had I followed young Robespierre,” said the Emperor, "how different might have been my career! On what trivial circumstances does human fate depend!" Memorial de Sainte Helene: journal of the private life and conversations of the Emperor Napoleon at Saint Helena (1823) page 182-183.

One thing that has not been reported, as far as I know, by any historian of the revolution, is that after 9 Thermidor Bonaparte proposed to the representatives of the people who were on mission in the army of Italy, and who had succeeded my younger brother and Ricord, to march on Paris to punish the authors of the counter-revolutionary movement which had killed my two brothers. This bold proposal, revealing courage, an extraordinary spirit and patriotism, terrified the representatives, who hastened to repel him. Mémoires de Charlotte Robespierre sur ses deux frères (1835), p. 127-128.

[Napoleon] assured me that Robespierre the Younger had not always held the same opinions as his brother, and that he looked upon himself as in exile when with the Army of Italy. He informed me that a woman of the lower classes, who had been assisted by Robespierre the Younger, had been arraigned before the Revolutionary Tribunal and sentenced to death during his absence from Paris, and that on his return he had expressed disapproval of the sentence , sent for the twelve-year-old son of that woman, clothed him, and admitted him to his table; the boy feeling sad, Ricord commanded him to drink to the health of the Republic, but the lad refused; thereupon Robespierre the Younger, addressing Ricord, said to him: ”Respect such a character. You would not do as much under similar circumstances." It was easy to gather from everything Bonaparte said, anxious as he seemed to speak well of Robespierre the Younger and extol his virtues, that he had a bad cause to defend, and that he was seeking to vindicate the connections he had made. Memoirs of Barras: Member of the Directorate (1895), p. 287. This meeting between Barras and Napoleon took place in 1795.

Bonaparte’s admiration for my elder brother, his friendship for my younger brother, and perhaps also the interest which my misfortunes inspired in him, enabled me to obtain a pension under the consulate. When Bonaparte was First Consul I was advised to ask him for an audience. I had no resources; since the death of my brothers I received the hospitality of my respectable and excellent friend, M. Mathon, who had been their friend and who was from Arras like us. Bonaparte received me perfectly, spoke to me of my brothers in very flattering terms, and told me that he was ready to do everything for their sister: “Speak, what do you want?” he said to me. I explained my position to him; he promised to take it into consideration; in fact, a few days later I received the patent for a pension of 3,600 francs. Mémoires de Charlotte Robespierre sur ses deux frères (1835), p. 129. According to the article Charlotte Robespierre er ses amis (1961), on September 24 1803 we do find a document signed by Napoleon granting Charlotte, not a pension but a ”relief” of first 600 francs and then 150 francs each month for half a year. The decree granting Charlotte a permanent pension of 200 livres per month, dated 1805, was however signed not by Napoleon by rather Fouché, and it is unclear if he did this on his own, Napoleon’s or someone else’s initiative.

#augustin robespierre #robespierre #napoleon #napoleon bonaparte #frev #frev friendships #bonbonaparte #french revolution #pls let me know if you have other sources naps is not my expertise after all

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kingdom-carer · 4 months ago

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Unique agere writing prompts:

A bunch of young or inexperienced characters (the younger/less experienced the funnier) are hanging out together when suddenly one of them regresses. None of the others know what to do - “I don’t know how to take care of a baby!!! Do YOU know how to take care of a baby!?”

A character regresses alone … except for their pet. They pick up on the fact that their person is suddenly acting like a child, and takes care of them the best way a pet knows how. (Bonus points if the pet’s reasoning abilities are enhanced somehow, whether through creative storytelling or in-world magical properties.)

A character regresses and loses all of their speech. No cute babbles or lisping here - just complete silence. CG has to figure out what their baby wants through gestures alone, and that can be challenging depending on how young their kiddo is.

A character teen regresses around their superior or boss, becoming mouthy or being silly in a distracting manner. Boss/coworker quickly discourages that behavior, and teen is highly embarrassed and has to work through a lot of unhappy emotions regarding rebellion or rejection. The boss/coworker could be either caring or mean for this one.

Kiddo’s heart stops when they see someone who looks like Santa Claus on their day out. Without thinking, they approach him. The man is surprised to see them, but meets them with warmth and promises to write their Christmas wish down for the elves. Was it really Santa? Who knows?

Middle shyly admits that they are interested in something they got scolded for when they were young - and CG decided to join them in their quest to live out the dream, whether that’s funky hair, a new fandom, or a tricky hobby. Kiddo ends up rocking it, of course.

Digging up old writing or artwork pitches a middle into their headspace - and it is NOT a good one. CG isn’t sure why middle is being so bratty until they suddenly burst into tears, saying they hate themselves and they wish they could just disappear. CG offers to go through the sketchbook and praises each page lovingly as they do, but the drawings turn darker and darker …

CG has a hard day and wants to love on their kiddo to relax, but kiddo isn’t feeling particularly small and subtly tries to redirect the attempts at affection. CG gets more and more frustrated until they snap, shouting, throwing things, slamming doors and cabinets. So many repressed emotions bubbling up … CG immediately regrets what they’ve done and hides away in shame. Baby does their best to cheer CG up again, even if CG’s outburst scared them.

Kiddo is perfectly big when going about their day, but a sweet lady at the gas station starts calling them all sorts of pet names when she sees they’re upset and offers to pay for their snacks. Kiddo immediately tries to hold it together, but tears are still falling from their eyes.

CG or kiddo revisits their childhood home and reflects on their upbringing. Good? Bad? Ugly? You decide.

Middle revisits a school and realizes how … young they all are. Mentally, they’ve been stuck there for so long … but my, how far they’ve come.

Kiddo has to babysit a younger kiddo when there’s no one else around to care for them. Chaos ensues.

For some reason (possibly due to trauma or magic?), big cannot remember being little, even though the aftermath exists. They begin leaving notes to themselves when big, and get responses back when small. Slowly, they start to heal their hurt brains and bridge the gap between headspaces.

Big actually goes back in time to meet their little self. Who have they become in the eyes of this tiny person?

Kiddo is afraid of making messes and getting in trouble, so CG responds with sensory bins, mud puddles, shaving cream kiddie pools, and other activities where getting messy is the name of the game. There are lots of big feelings, but nothing a little food fight can’t fix.

CG misses their kiddo so much it hurts. They snuggle a pillow and tend to their stuffies, but it isn’t the same. They call their kiddo just to see how they’re doing, and kiddo can tell it’s hard for them to be apart; so they decide to get their CG a pet.

A kiddo with powers has to relearn to use them when small, since channeling energy takes focus … and so does repressing a magical outburst when upset.

A CG starts falling in love with someone … and kiddo notices, taking it upon themself to help them get together by being “sneakily” romantic. Naturally it is not quite as subtle as they intended.

You’ve heard of “caught being little,” now get ready for “caught being a CG.” Why IS this box full of band-aids and stuffed animals and grab-and-go play packs and electrolytes in your closet?

#mama talks #sfw age dreaming #sfw age regression #sfw agedre #sfw agere #sfw cg #sfw cglre #christian agere #sfw littlespace #sfw middlespace #agere writing #agere prompts

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stevieschrodinger · 1 year ago

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Part One

for @vampiregirl1797

“I just feel like we should put all our cards on the table before we go...all in. I’d like to go all in, but I feel like we need to be straight with each other about some stuff.”

“Oooookay,” Eddie says slowly, lowering himself to sit at the table. He had to shuffle the chair back a bit to fit the bump, “uhm, right.” Eddie feels kind of sick. Not the morning sickness kind, that’s long gone now, just the regular this is the End Of The Steve Thing kind of sick. Because someone basically saying we need to talk has never, not once, turned out well.

So.

Eddie maybe hasn’t come clean about anything. Eddie’s maybe been spending months scenting Steve curled up on his couch watching shitty movies. Eddie maybe just said the pups father isn’t in the picture and didn’t elaborate. Eddie maybe thought Steve had just bought that.

But Steve wants the truth, and Eddie’s going to let him have it, even though when Steve finds out what a little drug dealing slut of an Omega Eddie has been, like, historically, this might be it for straight laced Steve.

The End.

“I started in the library because I was doing community restitution.”

Eddie’s brain screeches to a sort of halt. Because wait. This was about Eddie admitting he’s a shit human being, right? Not for Steve to admit to doing anything wrong…? Wasn't it?

“Community restitution?” Eddie starts slowly, “like...you’re a criminal?”

Steve snorts but then looks at the table, fiddling with his own fingers before he looks back up again, “yeah. Kinda’.”

“And the crime was..?”

“Property damage. Rob’s boss tried to touch her up and then when she walked he screwed her out of her last pay check. It was her word against his so that didn’t go anywhere and...I may have smashed a couple of windows. A dozen. A dozen windows. While intoxicated.”

Eddie can’t even imagine that. Steve’s wearing fucking slippers and he’s at home now, so he’s swapped into the glasses that have an old people chain so he can hang them around his neck and not loose them, “I mean. Sounds...like a fair response. Yeah. Okay.”

“Sure?” Steve looks uncertain.

“I mean? If that's the worst thing you've ever done I’m pretty sure were good?”

Steve hums, it’s not a positive sound, “you know I’m,” he indicates the sides of his head. Steve’s told Eddie about the concussions. The sports scholarship. The one too many hits to the head and then the burst eardrum and the following infections that fucked his hearing up real good and pretty conclusively ended his career before it even started.

“Yeah?”

“Right, so without them in, I mean, I don’t wear them to sleep.”

And Eddie hadn’t thought about that, didn’t realize, because he hasn’t actually slept with Steve yet. Because Steve was courting him. Properly courting him. They have date night. It’s so fucking domestic Eddie nearly turns inside out over it.

Also Steve works in a library and he read somewhere that the bite of an Alpha who is not the sire of the pup can, in a few rare cases, cause the Omega’s body to fail the pregnancy and like...reject the pup in favor of having another heat so it can carry the pup of their actual mate. Or something. And because of that Steve won’t do more than kiss Eddie. Because he’s not willing to even take the risk that he might bite Eddie in the heat of the moment. He’s so fucking committed he actually offered to get Eddie off. Was very clear that he wanted absolutely nothing in return, was just happy to do hand or even mouth stuff to keep Eddie happy if that’s what he wanted.

Steve is like, just, how is he even real? And obviously Eddie said no because he's not a complete dick and saying yes felt incredibly selfish, even though he's been kicking himself every day since because when Eddie makes a decision Steve fucking respects that.

Fucking perfect loveable bastard.

Which is as adorable as it is fucking frustrating. But Eddie has also agreed that they will wait. They will wait until the pups born. They will wait for such time as Eddie can fully focus on a relationship. Whatever Steve means by that because Eddie is horny and doesn’t really care for the waiting part but-

“So I’m pretty deaf, at night.”

“Riiiight…?” Eddie has no idea where Steve’s going with this. Eddie is clearly fucking missing something along the line here.

“So when the pup cries at night, I won’t hear it. Like I definitely won’t hear it. And I get that, someone who can help more would be more appealing. Sometimes I don’t hear so good if there’s a lot of noise, so I’m worried if the pup cries and like, the TV’s on or something, I might not hear right away. And if you’re tired, I want to help at night, it’s not fair if you have to wake up all the time. I know I should have said something sooner but honestly it only really occurred to me today at work-”

Eddie’s heart is fucking melting into his guts. This is too much. Steve Harrington who smashes windows in defense of his best friend's honor. Steve Harrington who actually worries about his ability to look after another Alpha’s pup. This man. Eddie doesn’t know what to do and now his stupid face is leaking because he cries at fucking everything at the moment and Steve is looking at him absolutely horrified. Jesus Christ on a cracker.

Steve dashes around the table and dabs Eddie’s eyes with his own sleeve, while Eddie blubs incoherently about how perfect Steve is and how he’s the best Alpha ever.

So. There’s that.

Later, when Eddie’s finally managed to stop crying, but is lying splotchy faced on the couch, admits to Steve, “I’m not sure who the Alpha is. And they’re all douches so I didn’t want to hang around to find out.”

“Oh,” Steve says quietly, rubbing at Eddie’s knee, “do you want to find out now?”

“Still no. And, I get if you think it’s...wrong or...selfish...or whatever. I understand if you...you know, don’t like that I was sleeping around a bit.”

Steve seems to actually ponder that for a while, so Eddie decides to go all in and put the final nail in his own coffin, “also, I used to sell drugs. And do drugs. Some drugs. But not now. Not touched it since I found out about the pup. Haven’t been selling since I came back. Or smoking actually,” Eddie sighs, “could kill for a smoke right now though.”

Steve’s quiet for a long time, thinking. “Is the Alpha...likely to find out? Could this come back on you?”

Eddie bites his lip, taking a moment over it, “I don’t see how it ever could, no.”

Steve sighs, “okay, and clearly you weren't being safe, so did you get tested?”

Eddie swallows thickly, desperately trying not to start crying again, the embarrassment of admitting this out loud to Steve, Steve who is just so much better than him, might eat him alive, “yeah. Yeah, first uhm, appointment I had with the Omega nurse, we did all that. I’m all good. And I haven’t...been with anyone, since I got back to Hawkins.”

“So, basically, you found out about your pup and changed everything about your life, so you could do the best thing you possibly could for you baby, practically overnight?”

“I- I mean. I’ve tried?”

Steve pulls Eddie up and into his lap, so they can scent each other thoroughly, “Eddie, I think you’re wonderful.”

And Eddie shoves his face harder into Steve’s neck because he’s pretty sure his whole face is bright red with blush.

Eddie’s knee is bouncing, making the chain from his wallet jiggle, but he doesn’t seem to be able to make it stop. Steve rests his hand on Eddie’s disobedient knee; that works.

When Eddie’s name gets called, he goes, knowing that Steve is right behind him. They do the boring bit, and then Eddie is getting up on the bed and then the nurse is saying, “are you staying?” With a frown on her face.

And Steve looks down to Eddie and Eddie says, “yes?” and is then suddenly bristling at the side eye they are both getting from this nurse. Because yes, okay, Eddie doesn’t have a bite, and yes, fine, he and Steve aren’t mated but god dammit he wants Steve here for this.

He can feel the stupid nurse judging him and he fucking hates it but then Steve is squeezing his fingers reassuringly and yeah, okay, that does make it better.

Eddie doesn’t like the cold gel or the pressure, but he does love hearing his pups heartbeat. He really fucking does. It’s quick and strong and perfect.

“Would you like to know the sex?”

Eddie looks at Steve, but Steve’s just smiling and shrugging and being all perfect still. Happy to go along with whatever Eddie wants. Everything Eddie wants. Even though it’s technically not Steve’s choice anyway, even though it’s not Steve’s pup. Even though all of that, some Alphas would be presumptuous enough to pass an opinion, or worse; Steve absolutely never has.

And Eddie was always the kind of kid who shook the Christmas gifts, who couldn’t sleep, who couldn’t wait.

“Yeah, yeah please?”

“It’s a girl.”

“A girl,” and Eddie can feel the waterworks starting up again already and it doesn’t help when he looks up and Steve is looking at the screen with a look of wonder on his face. Steve looks like he’s in love. “I’d like to refer you though, for a routine investigation.”

Eddie’s nerves spark even though the nurse lady hasn’t given any indication of anything being wrong, “what for?”

She hums, moving the wand thing around, “it’s reasonably common in male Omega that their hips are too narrow to safely pass the pup. And from what I see here you may fall into that category, we should find out now and not in the delivery room.”

Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand again, “yeah. Yeah, makes sense.”

At least it means there’s no guesswork. Eddie isn’t waiting to go into labor; his narrow hips mean he has a date and time to meet his pup. He wants Steve with him, Wayne doesn’t even question it; is happy to sit in the waiting room with his newspaper and wordie or whatever that thing is he plays on his phone. There’s a curtain up, and Eddie can’t feel a fucking thing from the chest down because of the godamn terrifying needle thing they’ve put in his spine. So at least there’s that.

It feels like forever and no time at all, a lifetime of trying desperately not to panic while Steve holds his hand tight and tells him everything is okay. And god Eddie wants to snap and ask him where his sudden medical degree has come from, but he doesn’t, he bites it back, knows it’s the fear talking.

And then there’s a pup crying and she’s a bit gross and covered in gack but she’s being deposited straight onto Eddie’s bare chest and he doesn’t know what to do because suddenly he’s a parent. But Steve coos down at her and doesn’t seem at all phased by the gack when he holds her tiny hand oh so gently in his big one.

Eddie wakes up, and his calves are throbbing. He feels like he's actually run somewhere, and has the worst cramp. But then, he wriggles his toes and realizes he can feel everything again, even if he wishes he couldn't because everything fucking hurts.

Right behind that, he remembers why everything fucking hurts, and that startles him the rest of the way awake, suddenly flooded with panic because where is-?

Oh. All he has to do it look to the side, and she's right there, swaddled up in Steve's arms, Steve comfortably feeding her a bottle.

Steve must sense he's awake grinning over, "did you see how much hair she has? It's going to be just like yours." And Steve looks so absolutely delighted by that simple thing, and Eddie can't help but think that maybe this whole thing will work out okay.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #ao3 writer #ficlet #mpreg #omega eddie munson #omega eddie because he's so pretty #alpha steve harrington #omegaverse

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midnight-mourning · 5 months ago

Text

Hearts & Home

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 4💘💘

Woahhhh more cowboys.... That's CRAZY... hehe anywho, i very much enjoyed taking another crack at these idiots, hope you enjoy reading about them :)

Prompt: Valentines continuation of the prev wild west x yn request i made last time perchance :)c i liked your story you made with em a lot teehee

Word Count: 2203

Read here if you prefer ao3!

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You keep your eyes on the horizon, mouth a firm line as you scan the distance for any sign of life.

Nothing but the vast expanse of white and grey stares back at you. They're not here. Again.��

The breeze blows by, chilling you once more, and you shake your head, deciding it's for the best to head inside. Despite they're seeming lack of care for you in the moment, you know they wouldn't want you to freeze. You think, anyway.

This was the third week in a row now, they'd promised they'd be back this time. Not another letter, not another empty promise. But, you couldn't be too harsh on them, they still had jobs to do, and with the weather as of late, you're sure they're being worked hard to keep their ranch in tip-top shape. You were doing the same here, afterall. Though, you were handling roughly the same size property on your own, whereas their boss had multiple hands to help out besides your cowboys—

You shake your head, the door slamming shut behind you.

The warmth of your home greets you, but it does little for your mood. You're less worried and more, disappointed. For well over a month now they'd been promising to visit you, their usual trips having become few and far between.

You hadn't been given an explanation for this shift either. Only noting that when you did see them this last time they'd become a bit skittish, off-put even. Your usual affections weren't returned in full, and if you had thinner skin you'd be alarmed by this. For now, you were just concerned. And annoyed, incredibly annoyed.

You thought that after the confrontation of your feelings, things would be more defined between you. You'd been mistaken of such. Rather, you felt as if you were stuck in a bit of a limbo. Though, part of that was your own fault to be fair.

You were each seemingly too scared to take that next step. To go from casual flirting, joking back and forth, late nights spent together to something more, intimate neither you nor Sun nor Moon has made the step. Sure, you'd gotten close. On several occasions.

When Sun would corner you in the barn for a brief 'chat' that was filled with far more actions than words. Or when late at night, when you couldn't sleep, you'd find yourself in your kitchen and Moon would come up behind you, offering sweet nothings of comfort in whispered words and chaste kisses.

But that's all it was, wasn't it? You bitterly think as you swirl the coffee in your cup, the black liquid seeming to taint your very being in the moment.

All of it, it meant nothing. And again, perhaps you were to blame for such. In those moments, it was you who pulled away in the end, it was you who hesitated and froze upon hearing those murmured expressions of desire. And for what, fear? Fear of what? It surely wasn't rejection, not at the surface level at least, you knew they both wanted for you as you wanted for them, to an extent at least.

Commitment then. Stability. Even if you told yourself it's what you wanted, the idea of it seemed impossible, and therefore terrifying to you. Being able to trust someone, multiple someone's was unfamiliar to you, it always has been. To have it all so easily within your grasp made you feel as if you were living in a dream. So you were doing everything that you could to wake up.

But still, even with your own insecurities, that didn't explain their odd behavior, or their sudden disappearance altogether. That, was something you'd need to determine on your own.

And the best way to do that, was with a confrontation.

So, you sent another letter. And another. And another.

If that damn courier was going to pass through here daily and use your land as a shortcut, you were going to make well sure you made use of him.

You sent letters without waiting for a response. As despite your insistence and incessant writing, somewhere deep in you you knew that one was never going to be enough.

But as the days grow from one, to three, to seven, and still no answer to even one, you had enough. It didn't help matters that Valentine's a day you never really celebrated truthfully, but now desired more than anything, was about to be upon you. If anything, that fact pushed you over the edge finally.

You hadn't wanted to resort to it, but now felt as if you had no other choice. You would have to do this directly.

Face to face.

You didn't pick the best day to go for this, you realize. The wind, once merely just a bother while going about your day to day around the farm, now bites mercilessly at the uncovered skin of your cheeks. You pull your hat down further with one hand, and snap the reins again with the other.

Besides the wind, it's snowing hard, covering the plains in a way you hadn't seen in years. Just your luck it seemed, that a blizzard like this would happen right at the worst possible time. But, you're too far out to turn back now, even if you're admittedly beginning to lose your way a little.

You knew it was only a half day's ride between your ranch and theirs, so surely you must be close by now. But with all the snow, your field of vision is nothing but white. Which frightens you just a tinge.

Your fright becomes genuine alarm when suddenly, Felicity spooks. Unprepared, the reins slip from your hands as she bucks, sending you flying into the snow. You land, face first into the powder, almost grateful for the softer than normal landing. But still, it knocks the wind from you, and you groan in pain as you lift your head just enough to see Felicity fade off into the distance.

Out of either desperation or disbelief, or maybe even delusion, you start to laugh. Quietly. Not because there's anyone around to hear you but because you're in pain.

A lot of it, actually.

As you lie there you become increasingly aware of two things; the cold, and your ribs.

The first of which is starting to seep in despite your many layers, and the second you think might be broken.

What a grand situation you've put yourself in here.

You find yourself with a lack of care however, perhaps because of the dire absurdity of it all. No one's coming to save you. No one even knows where you are. Well, Felicity does but she's long gone.

You may very well die out here, you realize. All for a couple of cowboys you couldn't even say 'I love you' to.

Your own fault, truly.

You close your eyes, face cold against and feel a pull for sleep in you that you know is dangerous. One that tempts you, so, alluringly so.

But luck was on your side, as right when you feel yourself beginning to slip, there's a muffled noise out in the distance. A shout.

Soon enough you can make out the sound of hoofsteps and then footsteps that rapidy approach you.

Your body is suddenly hoisted up, the light blinding even against your eyelids. Whoever it was, you weighed nothing to them.

You find out soon enough, based on voice alone. "Come on darlin', stay with me now."

It's a struggle, but you find your voice.

"Tryin' to, Lone Star." You wheeze out, cracking open an eye to see his worried face staring down at you.

He presses a kiss to your forehead then, hissing once he feels how cold you are. "You're frozen solid. Just what were you thinkin'?"

Sun starts to walk back over to his horse, you bite your cheek to hide the agony it causes you.

"I wasn't. It's called desperation—" You can't help but cry out as he shifts you to mount his horse, biting your tongue again after a moment and speak through gritted teeth. "Can't a poor rancher be with their loves on the most romantic day of the year? Or some sap horseshit like that. You get the point."

Sun's too busy examining your body for damages, poking and prodding until he makes his mark against one of your ribs and you hiss. "Save that for somewhere warmer, won't you? Bit too cold to get a peek under there don't you think?"

He tsks, shifting you hold you tight against him with one arm, using the other the grip the reins and start moving. "I think the cold's made you delirious, Sweetheart. Just hold on a little longer for me, yeah."

"I'll try."

You're only able to half register as Moon rides up to the two of you, concern plastered across his features. They speak to each other, but you can hardly listen. Now that you have a sense of safety surrounding you, that urge to fade in the black pulls at you stronger than ever, and you can't help but close your eyes. Though, the jostling pain of your broken ribs keeps you from falling asleep entirely.

Soon enough, you find yourself in a warm bed in the boss' house, despite your protests the bunkhouse would be fine. You're treated and fed and warmed from the moment you step in the door. Something you're not taking for granted. To make matters better, you learn the reason you were found was because of Felicity wandering near the outskirts of the ranch, thus confirming to you that she was okay after all.

With that news, you crash, weight off your shoulders—and ribs—waking up some time much later.

When you open your eyes, you spy two restless cowboys nearby. Sun sits with his hands clasped in a chair beside you, frown settled heavily on his face. Moon is on the end of the bed, eyes trained on your face and thus, the first to notice you were awake.

"You sure know how to make an entrance, don't you Starlight?" His tone is a mixture of displeasure and relief.

You chuckle, wincing a little as you sit up. Sun reaches out to stop you but you wave him off. "Ah, couldn't help myself, Moonshine. Figured I needed to get your attention somehow, since it's been lacking here lately."

"You really risked your life for something so simple?" Sun asks, taking hold on your hand in both his own, squeezing tight. "All of that?"

You shrug, though not very well. "I didn't say it was a good idea. But it all worked out in the end, didn't it?"

Moon huffs. "If you call ‘working out’ almost dying, sure."

You lay back again a bit, looking up to the ceiling as a quiet settles over the three of you.

"An explanation would be nice."

"Suppose that's fair." Sun says. "Moon can share."

A tsk. "Of course you'd put it on me..." He grumbles, then takes your other hand and you glance back down. "Long and short of it is, we got fired."

Your eyes widen and Sun lets out a long, disappointed, sigh.

"We didn't get fired. But we did ask to quit. Move on to somewhere else. Boss asked us to find replacements before we left." Sun explains.

This does little to comfort you. "Somewhere else? Can't stand it and have to put more distance between us, huh?" You can't fight the bite in your tone.

But, they both chuckle at this. Moon shifts to lay on his stomach beside you, grin cheeky as he leans in close. "Closer actually. Much closer. Within walking distance. You might even say kissing distance."

Before you can get further confused, Sun juts in, halting any chance of Moon getting what he wants for the time being.

"We'd like to come work for you. If you'll have us. No need to worry about payment or the likes, just a place to stay, your hand to hold." He nods once. "That's more than enough."

You're more than surprised, shocked even. "I, you mean it?"

"We haven't been great 'bout it, but we care a lot, darlin'. Let us prove that to you." Sun kisses your hand, looking up to you with a plea in his eye.

Moon pulls your focus by taking his free hand and setting it on your cheek. "You look ready to cry, Sweet Thing."

"Truthfully, I just might." You swallow, shaking your head. "You two are somethin' you know that?"

He tuts, leaning in and kissing you softly. "We take pride in it."

"One of us does." Sun grumbles.

A snicker from his counterpart. "How about you wait your turn in silence, Sunshine?"

"How about you,"—You feel a tug on your arm pulling you away—"Learn to play fair?"

If you weren't stunned from your previous kiss, or in so much pain, you might've interfered with there argument. But, with the combination of both, you're content to simply lay back and watch it go down.

You're getting kissed by someone, someway eventually, and that's good enough for you.

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Thank you for the request @alynwrench! The cowboys are always a delight to write for, especially when I get to put them in SITUATIONS >:)c

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@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful @buzzybee3

#fnaf dca #dca fandom #fnaf sun #fnaf daycare attendant #sundrop #moondrop #fnaf moon #dca fic #x reader #mm dca valentine's #writing requests #midnight mutterings #writing that snow scene was a joy let me tell you #yes im evil like that what of it #also also making them clingy at the end there hehe

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