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sirowsky · 3 years

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The Stories We Tell Ourselves (One-Shot)

Author's Note: So, this was an ask sent to me by my darling wife, @lucrezia-thoughts a while back, that I for some reason never actually added to my collection of works. Which seemed like a shame, since I'm kinda proud of it (it was my very first ask), so I thought I'd re-post it and give it a proper spotlight. Description: Mando's injured and Grogu's bored, so fem!reader tells him a bedtime story.

Rating: Everyone (all fluff all the way on this one, though blood is mentioned) Word Count: 1872

It had been one of those days when one thing had just bled into another, and everything had gone wrong. It was a miracle all three of you had survived, but the Mandalorian had been injured, trying to protect you from a very unpleasant trader, who had knives concealed everywhere in his clothing. Mando had been cut along his side, and while the injury would heal on its own, it had bled a lot before you’d been able to get back to the Crest and properly dress it. He’d insisted on getting the ship off the planets surface before he’d allowed you to help him, and as a result, there was blood everywhere. He hadn’t actually hired you, he had just sort of… realised that the kid liked you and decided that if you were brave enough to stick with them despite the danger of their situation, without even asking for payment, then he wouldn’t stop you.

You weren’t sure if he actually liked you. It was hard to tell with him, even after months of being couped up with the man. You could quite easily read him around others, as you’d become familiar with his body language and mannerisms, so you knew how he should behave if he liked you. But for some reason, he behaved differently with you. His body language was always much more still and maybe even careful, around you, as though he was afraid you’d break if he accidentally bumped into you. It was more than a little annoying, sometimes, since it made it difficult to define what your relationship actually was. But it was mostly just annoying because you wanted him to bump into you. He was a mystery, but that wasn’t what drew you to him. He was kind and respectful, quiet but strong, in both body and conviction. He wasn’t too proud or too self-assured, but he was loyal and protective and gentle. It was quite amazing to you that he was so proficient at using those hands for violence, when he was also so tender with the baby. It had brought tears to your eyes on more than one occasion.

When you’d finally cleaned the last remnants of blood from the controls in the cock-pit, you headed back down to check on Mando. But your eyes fell on the empty pram sitting on the floor of the cargo-bay.

“Oh, no. Kid… where’d you go?”

You searched quietly, not wanting to wake Mando after you’d finally gotten him to lay down in his bunk to rest, before going to scrub the blood away. But then you heard a muffled giggle, and of course it came from the damned bunk. You’d left the door open so that you could easily hear it if he stirred or seemed to worsen in any way.

“No, no, no… Come on, get out of there, let the man rest.”

You reached in and snatched the kid off of Mando’s chest and then stood there for a minute, rocking him quietly against your hip, while you listened for any sign that your… companion… had woken up. You eventually sighed and sat down on a crate, directly behind the bunk, cradling the kid in your arms.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, you know.”

He just cooed and looked at you with bright eyes.

“Okay. How about a bedtime story?”

He just blinked and angled his head a bit more towards you.

“Hm, let’s see. When I was young, my mother would tell me stories about love to get me to sleep. She said that a child that feels loved, will always have the comfort to sleep soundly. So, this story begins with a King. A good, and kind man who rules his land with open arms and a warm heart, but also protects it with ferocity and conviction. Because that land holds everything that he loves, and without it – he’d be broken. One day, when the King is travelling, he finds an orphan outside of his dominion, and being the good man that he is, he brings the child home, to raise as his own. He has no idea how to do that, and it’s chaotic most of the time, especially since his duties can’t be put on hold while he cares for a baby. He still has to rule the land. But he loves that baby so much, that no matter how hard it gets, he endures. He doesn’t care that he hasn’t slept in days, or that he’s always terrified that something’s gonna happen to his boy. None of it matters, as long as the child is safe.”

Mando woke up the moment the kid climbed onto his chest. It was reflexive at this point. Even though he knew that you were there, and would care for the boy without his asking, he was already conditioned to react to whatever the little one needed. But he was wounded and tired, and he heard you coming down from the cock-pit, probably having cleaned up his mess – yet again, so he ignored the kid, and made no effort to let you know that he was awake, when you came to pick the child up. He was in some pain, the wound throbbing a little with each beat of his pulse, which made falling back asleep a little harder, even though he was exhausted. And it was surprisingly nice, just listening to you talk quietly to the kid, not knowing he could hear you. It wasn’t surprising that he found it nice; he found everything about you nice. It was surprising that he enjoyed the eavesdropping aspect so much. That he liked the intimacy of listening to you when your guard was down, and you were just being a woman caring for a child. He listened closely to your story, not missing the clear similarities to your actual life and the way you two had met.

“So, when the King has to travel again, he decides to bring his son along, and they go on a long and adventurous journey together. But on their way back, they come across a woman, wounded and in need of help. And because the King is a good man, he brings the woman to his castle, and helps her heal. And while she heals, she repays the King his kindness, by looking after his son while he cares for his kingdom. And as the woman watches her rescuer, and sees the true warmth of his heart as he cares for his land as closely, and tenderly, as he cares for his son, she falls in love with him.”

He nearly stopped breathing as he heard the words. Could you really mean him? The rest of the story was more or less exactly your story, so you had to be talking about him. He had never allowed himself to consider it. To think that you could ever want to be with a man like him, no matter how much he might want you to. He knew that his efforts to restrain himself around you made him seem stiff and perhaps a bit cold, and it always hurt him to see you try so hard to read him, to understand why he was different towards you than his friends. But if you wanted him too… that changed everything.

“But this wonderful man is a King, and she’s just a woman he found on the side of the road. She has no claim to him, and she’s afraid to tell him how she feels, because if he doesn’t feel the same, it’ll break her heart. So, she cares for the child as best she can, and hopes that he won’t make her leave the castle once she’s healed. And he doesn’t. He let’s her stay, and over time, she finds the courage to tell him the truth, and he reveals that he loves her too. And together they raise the child with love and happiness and adventures, and that’s how this little story ends, my sweet.”

The kid was asleep by the time you finished the tale, and you rocked him gently in your arms after you fell silent, to make sure he wouldn’t stir once you got up to put him back in his pram. You tucked him in snugly, and then closed the little egg up, to keep him warm and safe. Once you were done, you raised your hand up to your neck, rubbing idly at the knots and strained muscles, after such a long day of hardships and stress, and you couldn’t stop the exhausted sigh that escaped you. The movement to your side didn’t register in your brain until Mando was already sitting up at the edge of the bunk, and it startled you. You flinched and then your brain woke up again, and you approached him.

“Hey, what’s the matter, are you okay? Do you need anything?”

Oh, stars above… the number of ways that he could answer that last question.

��I was about to ask you the same thing.”

“No, no, you’re the one that’s wounded, which means I’m the only one that gets to ask that.”

He considered that for a moment.

“I heard your story, mesh’la.”

You froze, and suddenly your heart was frantic in your chest. He heard… all of that? You’d been so certain he was completely passed out! You hadn’t meant to pour so much truth into the story, but it had happened anyway, and now he knew how you felt. He knew. He saw you begin to panic and reached a gloved hand out to you, which you couldn’t bring yourself to take, but before you could back away from him, he reached for your waist instead, and pulled you in closer, until you were standing between his slightly bent knees as he rested against the bunk. You were flustered and shocked to suddenly be so close to him, and you found yourself having trouble figuring out where to put your hands in the small space between you. He’d never given any indication that he liked it whenever you’d touched him, so you settled for resting your palms on the flat and cool beskar on his chest, with your eyes firmly planted on the diamond shaped indentation at the centre of it.

“It was a very good story. I really liked it.”

Your eyes snapped up to stare at his visor, and you wanted to say a thousand things. But nothing came out. You felt him draw in a shaky breath, before his hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer. Then he bent his head forwards, leaning his helmet against your forehead, and your arms found their way around his waist, suddenly needing to hold him to you, now that he’d finally given you his silent permission.

“Would you tell me another story?”

His voice was trembling just a bit. Just enough that you could tell through the modulator.

“Okay. What would you like to hear?”

“Tell me how the story continues, after the King declares his love for the woman? Tell me how they live happily ever after… and I promise I’ll try to make the story come true for you.”

THE END

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian oneshot #mando x fem!reader #the mandalorian x fem!reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x female reader #baby grogu #baby yoda #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #sweet fluff

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lucrezia-thoughts · 3 years

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Dearest Lucrezia…

How are you feeling today, my dear? I hope that you’re doing well and taking some time for yourself 💚💚💚💚💚

As per usual on a lovely TF Friday such as today, I am filled with whorish thots for one (1) blond and ruggedly handsome Delta Force Captain…

Okay, listen. I am a simple person with a simple (and extensive) list of kinks, most of which happen to link up with our dear Will. Breeding kink? Yeah. We’ve already discussed that in length (something I am eternally grateful for, btws). But I’ve been thinking… after you’ve succeeded in getting pregnant and your body starts to change? Riding him with your stomach huge and your chest swollen? Unparalleled. (Except, of course, for the lactation kink he develops after the baby’s born and he sees your chest glistening with milk for the first time, but, that’s an ask for another day >:) )

This week on unfortunate circumstances… I have a breeding and pregnancy kink combo yet don’t want children… why, dear God, am I like this? (But thank you for indulging these habits in me, dearest 💚)

Sending you and Neville lots of hugs!

-🐞

My dearest 🐞!! Neville and I are doing well, mostly! 💚 you are not alone in those kinks, my dearest. I possess them both and I can't have children. 😔

18+ under the cut... f!reader...

As soon as the two of you found that Will's extensive efforts to breed you had proven successful, you couldn't keep his hands off of you...

You'd thought he'd been attentive and tactile before... that had been nothing...

As your body changed and grew to accommodate the life nestled safely in your womb, Will became even more insatiable and aroused by you...

At every possible opportunity, he was kissing your neck... and shoulders... and clavicle... begging you to ride him...

The two of you would spend hours as one... Will helping you balance as you rose and fell on his engorged erection... his large hands splayed protectively along your hip and stomach...

Or... he'd spend hours between your legs... gluttonous for your taste... even sweeter now that you were pregnant...

He actually fucked you into labor when the time came... a fact he is very proud of...

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six-sanctuary · 3 years

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Homecoming (Will Miller x Reader)

Author’s note: I’ve never written a fic before but was HEAVILY inspired by all the amazing content @lucrezia-thoughts and @charnelhouse generate (Super hope that's okay!) and wanted to try my hand at it and contribute to Triple Frontier Fr-saturday. (I know I'm a day late whoops)

Also I suck at proofreading I’m so sorry for any errors and hope someone enjoys this. Lowkey proud of myself for not being obnoxiously shy and just saving this to my desktop somewhere for eternity.

Anyways here we go no more rambling this is the fic. If I still dig it later on I might write some more in this lil universe either with Will/Reader or throw in some Benny/reader. Maybe even Santiago/reader if I can get his voice right.

Below the cut is 18+ only please and thanks!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You’d always been there, and you always would. It was the sort of realization that crept up slowly on Will. Looking back he wishes he could count the times he counted on you. He wishes he could put it into something concrete like numbers, something that he could wrap his head around, but you were there even before the numbers.

You were there before he was shipped off to war, before he had to learn to count as he breathed, in… two… three… four… five… hold… two… three… four… five…. out… two… three… four… five…. You were there before he broke and crumbled, falling into a million little pieces he didn’t know how to put back together again.

He wished he knew the number of warm smiles you’d given him. He wished he knew what number it took for him to fall in love, whether it was the hundredth or hundredth thousandth soft smile. All he knows now is that so much time was wasted, and he didn’t want to lose a second more.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You’d moved to Colorado a few months ago. It had always been part of the plan but that timeline got moved up when Will’s parents announced they were selling the house in favor of something smaller now that they were empty nesters. For a solid week, Will hummed and hawed about it, flip flopping back and forth. The thought of giving up something that was so integral to his childhood, something that had always meant home for him, was hard.

After weeks of his thinly veiled discontent, you came to a solution. After one of his talks, you sat him down in the dining room table of your apartment together and laid out the documents one by one. Rather than explain right away, you let Will take them all in, grabbing each one and skimming it before moving on to the next piece of paper.

“This is…. To buy the house?” Will’s thumbs smoothed over the paper as if in need of a reminder that they were real, that this was real. “My parent’s place?” His voice was thick with emotion, which never failed to bring it out of you. Rather than answer in words and risk your voice failing you, you nodded.

From there it was a lot of packing, a lot of hard work, but with the Delta Force boys help you two managed to get everything packed up in a hauler, ready to make the trek halfway across the country. The thought of being holed up in the car for hours on end with Benny made you the slightest bit nervous. The younger Miller was a bundle of energy and while you appreciated that most of the time, you were wary about being stuck in cramped quarters with the lightning bolt of a man. In the end the cars were split with you and Santiago taking Will’s Ford and Will and Benny driving the Uhaul.

You had a week of the gang’s help, well the gang minus Frankie. He had to head back a few days early to his wife and daughter. The others stayed, even Tom, though he was quick to point out several “serious”problems with the house that you’d need to look into. Despite that, it already felt like home. Sure it needed your and Will’s touch on the place, and a number of things had gone into disrepair as the Millers got older. At some point it had become too much for them, but it was the perfect project for a newlywed couple.

Not once did you regret it. Not when you were lugging heavy boxes up the stairs nor when you learned the roof needed to be replaced. No, each problem was taken in stride because you knew with Will by your side, you’d get through it. There was nothing the two of you could not conquer.

Soon the novelty of the new house wore off and with Benny back at his apartment down the street and Santiago and Frankie back home, you and Will fell into a quiet domesticity. You lived in pieces, your life wrapped up in boxes while you made repairs to the house.

Will, though he meant well, was not as handy as he claimed to be. After the shower incident that required a late-night call to an emergency plumber, your big Delta Force husband was relegated to the simpler tasks, or the ones that required his muscle. If a dresser had to be moved, he was your man, rolling up his sleeves and making it look easy. The same went for anything that required reaching high places (the uppermost cabinets in the kitchen were a real bitch). In the end, Will ended up spending more time turning the side yard into a garden while you turned this old house into your home.

After a month, Will had to go back to work. He’d been requested to give a speech in D.C., back to the other side of the country. As much as you wanted him to stay, you knew that this was important to him. You knew how much it mattered to him to feel useful, to feel good about what he did and so with a kiss to the cheek, you promised him that you’d have the kitchen cabinets all painted by the time he came back.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Classic rock was softly playing out of the radio you had set up on the counter. Painting was boring work, even more so all by yourself. The radio made you feel less alone and so you hummed along as you worked. Stroke after stroke of paint was rolled onto the cabinets, breathing new life into the space. It was really mindless work and so your thoughts wandered as you painted. You thought about the home, what other projects you had in mind. If you finished the cabinets quickly enough you wanted to tackle the downstairs bathroom too before Will got back.

He'd called every night but it wasn’t the same as him being here. If you were lucky, you got him on FaceTime and got to see his face light up when you appeared on his screen. Even with the small image of him on your phone he was so handsome, golden and bright. You’d called him your Apollo once, god of the sun, and he’d found that funny. Ben was picking him up from the airport tomorrow and driving him home and then you’d have your sun again.

The opening of the front door snapped you out of your thoughts, your head whipping around. “Honey?” His gruff voice was unmistakable to you. Without a second thought your paintbrush was set down, dripping slightly off the drop cloth though that was a problem for later. Your feet carried you to him, flinging yourself into his arms when you saw him standing there in the foyer. “I thought you were coming back tomorrow.” You nuzzled into his neck, breathing in the smell of him as his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. “We finished early and I wanted to surprise you.” It was definitely a surprise.

His hand moved from the small of your back to your chin, gently lifting it to place a soft kiss on your lips. “I missed you,” you breathed before stealing another. “I know.” He always knew. He knew every time he left you would miss him and he would miss you. You’d play this game and then he’d come home and reclaim you. One kiss turned into two, which then turned into three and four. Your hands moved to his short blonde hair, moving to the back of his neck to pull him closer, ever closer.

Leaving his bags at the door, you two tangled, desperate for contact, desperate for two to become one again. He picked you up, something you’d normally protest as your feet worked just fine, but instead you let him carry you up the stairs, deeper into your home, to your bedroom.

With a playful grin he tossed you onto the bed, nearly chuckling at the way you almost bounced. His amusement only lasted a moment before lust and his need to have you took over. He descended on you on the bed, lips crashing into yours for a heated kiss as his tongue grazed against your lower lip. He was everywhere at once, overwhelming all of your senses as his name repeated over and over in your head like a mantra.

Will… Will… Will…

His large hands held your wrists above your head, somehow managing the dichotomy of being gentle but firm, while his lips retraced every curve of your skin. Every time he came back the routine was the same. Will wanted, no needed to learn you again, to cover every soft spot that made you sigh to ensure you were the same as when he had left. He needed to know and so he kissed you, his trimmed beard tickling as he slowly made his way down your body earning soft moans along the way.

He only left your wrists when he got to your legs, separating them and placing one over his shoulder as you laid back on the bed. There he paused, looking down at you so bare and exposed and wet beneath him. It was hard not to move under his gaze. “God you’re so beautiful.” You felt heat rise in your cheeks as you whined out his name. He placed a less-than-chaste kiss on your inner thigh before moving closer, breathing in your heady scent. Licking your folds, he let his tongue circle your clit, smirking at the sounds leaving your lips.

He knew your body like the back of his hand and it took no time at all for him to bring you to that peak of pleasure. Closer and closer, more and more you felt your body respond to him, your hips rolling up against his tongue, hands fisting in the sheets or his hair whichever was closer. “C’mon baby,” he coaxed, slipping a finger into your slick heat, curling it to stroke the soft spot that made you cry out and shudder around him.

“That’s one.”

And you knew your husband would follow through with another. He collected your orgasms like some collected baseball cards, counting each and every one. No night ended with just one, leaving you spent exhausted and so satisfied at the end.

Wiping the wetness from his face, he kneeled next to you, watching as your breathing rate came back down, waiting for the sign that he could have you again. As you blinked the haze away, his hands trailed up and down your side, drawing absent patterns against your soft skin. The look in his eyes of restrained hunger made your mouth go momentarily dry, reigniting the flames of passion within you. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you used your other hand to reach for him, pulling him over you.

It was all the encouragement he needed. After tossing his shirt away, his calloused hands move to your thigh, hiking it up over his hip. You had only a moment to take in the sight of him, the well-toned muscle, the scar on the left side of his stomach, before you two crashed together once more. Your hips ground against the hard bulge in his pants, leaving a dark patch in the denim. You needed more, more friction, more him.

He pulled away only long enough to unbutton his pants, kick off his boots and rid himself of the rest of his clothing. Standing at the edge of the bed, he stroked his impressive length a few times as he admired your naked form. Then the wait was too long and crawled over you, lining himself up and so agonizingly slowly pushing himself into you. You tried to be still but it seemed your body had something else in mind as your legs wrapped around his waist pulling him ever closer.

“Someone’s eager,” he breathed, both of you knowing full well that neither of you had the patience to wait much longer. Pressing his lips firmly against yours, he moved, hips snapping into you at a quick pace, his size stretching you in ways no one else ever could. Your body molded to fit around him, your leg wrapping around him once more in an effort to guide him ever deeper. He bottomed out in you before pulling out and pressing into you again and again and again. Each motion put stars behind your eyes, the fireworks building to another crescendo.

You felt him get closer, the rhythm of his hips losing itself as he continued to thrust into you, hips stuttering as the pleasure overwhelmed. “One more honey, I know you have one more.” His low throaty growl in your ear was enough to push you over the brink, your hands clamoring for purchase on his back and shoulders as you cried out once more. Your core clenched down on him and it took only a few more hurried thrusts before you felt his hot seed shooting into you as he let out a low grunt.

His forehead rested against yours as he remained where he was, not wanting to pull out of you just yet. A thin sheen of sweat covered the both of your bodies and despite that you didn’t think either of you were finished quite yet. You had a full week of time apart to make up for. Will pulled his head back from your forehead to give you another soft kiss, this one lacking the passion and lust but more than making up for that with the love and affection he poured into it. “It’s good to be home.”

#kiki writes #triple frontier #will miller #will miller x reader #will miller x you #will ironhead miller #triple frontier fanfic #triple frontier fanfiction

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hello-nichya-here · 8 months

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Am I remembering incorrectly or did Lucrezia pretty much ask cesera for a fucking BABY in season 3?? Like talk about unaware. Her and her husband aren’t even fucking and they expect to pass off their little bundle of joy as her husbands all at the same time making out in front of whoever they please. The audacity 😂

Hey, their dad said he wants Cesare to build their family a kingdom, and Cesare's wife is far, far away and he doesn't even seem to remember her - he needs an heir, and his sister wants another child. It's just two siblings helping each other out XD

#asks #the borgias #cesare x lucrezia

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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The “Momma Sturmvoraus was Literally Satan” AU

As requested by @spazzbot. This AU was initially brainstormed on the GG fanworks server almost a year ago. Specifically, on the first day of 2020.

[ID: a truncated discord message by “Miss Nixy, Gay for RoboLadies” posted 01/01/2020. The message reads “I need to sleep but please for the moment consider:” and ends there.]

So. Let’s get to it.

Satan took a human form because why not see what's going on topside, live like a human, and “Oh shit is this pregnancy? This is pregnancy. Fuck, that's a tiny human. Which is now half demon. Am I supposed to take care it? Wonder if retconing this form into that Valois family was a bad idea. They do have SO much money though, I get to live like a queen. I suppose another child shouldn't hurt, it wasn't that bad. Oh, he's cute, this is actually making sense, why humans do all the sinning. Not counting dear Aaronev's murders, of course, those are just evil, but I did search out the worst of the humans to pair myself to...”

This is literally just "Tarvek and Anevka's mom was low-key Satan on a bored “let's be human for a decade or two to see what happens” jaunt, consequences happen because these kids are LITERALLY half-demon and arguably anti-Christs."

Also it's just Very Funny for Tarvek, ineffectual sexy lamp fashion twunk extraordinaire, to be an antichrist

Jeff thinks he’s pretty. Jeff keeps describing features that don’t entirely make sense. (Jeff’s canon name is Karl Thotep but they spent so long unnamed that the server collectively named them Jeff.)

This is not a crossover with anything, btw. Ambiguously Pop Culture Satan just got bored and went to have babies with a serial killer.

They’re just kids! That are vaguely demonic. So. Moreso than the rest of the Valois.

Sometimes "mom" comes back from the dead and visits Anevka and Tarvek to impart Wisdom and possibly magic lessons The rooms always smell faintly of sulfur after that...

They try to put Anevka in the machine but SHE isn't hurt and the MACHINE just melts

So that's the end of that.

It's very awkward for everyone, but the paperwork isn't too bad. It's very easy to write "incidental fire began during late-fugue experimentation, resulted in fire spreading through six rooms and several casualties, including Prince Aaronev Wilhelm Sturmvoraus."

As per @atagotiak, “I feel like if we’re going in any way dimensional weirdness with thing, Tarvek got so good at exploring bc he could just clip through walls.”

With image provided by @thisarenotarealblog:

Tarvek in Paris: My dead mother keeps showing up in my dreams to tell me I need to seduce my way out of my problems and also she looks like Satan. Tarvek's Voltaire-Appointed Therapist: I still don't know what that means. Just like the last five times. Tarvek: I keep telling her that I can’t seduce Colette, if seduction is that important she should get Anevka to do it.

Like he probably wouldn’t say most of that in front of any Voltaire-approved individual, but still.

Tarvek is still very good at self control but there's a Special Edge to his rants.

(Derailed in the moment to me thinking about Anevka in a sfw-but-concerningly-deadly succubus getup, because... yeah.)

Aaronev dies and goes to hell and his dead wife is just there like "hi! Time to be tortured for eternity!" He wasn't a good husband so. He can't exactly sentimentalize his way out.

“In the sexy way?” “... not for you, no.”

Mostly I just want the BULLSHIT that is "Storm Mom was actually just Satan getting bored and going on vacation as a retconned Valois girl, the kids are half-demons and sometimes it Shows."

To clarify: the Satan bit isn't the retcon. Grandma used to have one daughter. Now there are two. (Seffie and Martellus's mother doesn't remember being an only child, but sometimes...)

Satan retconned a new daughter in, which included a Valid Valois Venusian Vestment, so the blood tests play out.

The subtle signs of wrongness would be fun too. Anevka tends to smile a bit too wide and sharp for a human face. Inexplicable uneasiness, here you can’t point at any specific thing that’s wrong but it’s uncomfortable. Uncanny valley prettiness, almost like the porcelain she became in other timelines. Skin isn’t supposed to be that smooth.

My brain's pre-nap contribution at that point was "Satan's pronouns when not pretending to Human are sin/sinself" which is! Certainly a thing.

Tarvek, at some nebulous future point: I mean, your ancestors were monsters, but my dad was a serial killer and my mom was literally Satan, instead of just figuratively like Lucrezia, so. I mean. I kind of get what you're going through.

Per @firebirdeternal: Tarvek and Anevka growing up with "you're allergic to holy water" and not questioning it until a little later because What.

And then they test it and it's like "yeah, no, there's a rash now. That stung. What the fuck."

It INFURIATES Gil in Paris when Tarvek tells him that's a thing, because there's nothing chemically different about Holy water and regular water. But no, this is somehow happening.

It gets logged in medical journals as a Valois genetic thing because, well, Mom was like that too, right?

One time they both go into a church for an Adventure and Gil is very annoyed to find that Tarvek is like. Faintly smoking. It smells like burnt hair in here.

Gil: What smells like burnt hairgel? Tarvek: [glares]

Gil decides that it must be something particular to the church, like a fungus or something in the stone, contaminating the air and water so it only LOOKS like the holiness is what's setting off reactions.

It is not.

Tarvek once got into an argument with someone and ate a slab of raw, completely uncooked meat as a power move.

SVV seems to work perfectly. Everyone is fine. We get the ‘you fight like ducks’ moment.

And then Tarvek bursts into flames, and everyone panics because no they fixed this what the fuck is he still infected with Hogfarb’s oh my god... and then everything settles down and he's perfectly fine. Not a scratch on him, no longer turning funny colors. Completely unharmed. He's in a nicely tailored suit and looks faintly stunned

"I just met my dead mom, who's apparently Satan. She told me that after I died the first time just now, I should be harder to kill later, especially with fire, because now there's more demon and less mortal and guys I think I'm going crazy." "Is that a martini?" Tarvek looks down. "Apparently."

Tarvek starts just. Randomly setting things on fire by glaring too hard and has to tone it down. Meanwhile, Agatha and Gil are having crises about how he's somehow getting PRETTIER.

Is he faintly glowing? Maybe!

Gil handles it by angrily sniping at Tarvek about how of COURSE he's an evil little rat with a background like that.

Tarvek just wants a nap and to forget this ever happened. Many people are sworn to secrecy. It's very awkward.

Still, SVV did something, for handwave-y reasons, and so they're linked now. Gil and Agatha both getting tiny flashes of the same shenanigans.

They get none of the powers. They just keep getting Weird Shit.

Other characters with divine influence are like "Did you.... did you make a pact with a demon?" "What no that's our boyfriend."

Tho tbh I wouldn’t be surprised if a Heterodyne did sign a contract with a demon at some point in exchange for like. Materials. A hundred souls sacrificed in exchange for some succubus blood. Thanks!

Tarvek and Othar: Falling out of CW as in canon. Tarvek: WHAT THE HELL SINCE WHEN DO I HAVE WINGS HIDE THIS BEFORE I GET BOOTED FROM THE LINE FOR THE THRONE

IDK where Anevka is during all this. I think she might have decided to go sleep her way through the courts of the Ice Tsars. Vacation, y'know?

Othar after he's decided to make Tarvek his new Heroic Apprentice: AH, my poor afflicted young friend, it's noble of you to go against the dark nature of your tragic heritage like this. Tarvek: I hate you. I wish I could hate you to death. But you have a point. I shouldn't let my father's blood limit what I strive for in life. Othar: I... I thought your mother was... Tarvek: I know what I said.

Tarvek: Also you can't tell ANYONE about that, I can't have them thinking I'm not actually in line for the Storm King's throne.

He does admittedly have to like. Explain things to Grandma.

Terabithia is Tarvek’s maternal grandmother so this is supremely awkward. That said...

Grandma fondly remembers her pregnancy cravings; bone marrow and sulfur.

"Yeah so, my mother, your daughter, was... maybe actually Satan? But retconned into your life?" "Tarvek, darling, please. I figured that out half a century ago."

TARVEK ACCIDENTALLY FINDS HIM HIMSELF WEIRDLY INTENSE AT CONTRACTS

I mean that honestly just Tracks about Tarvek anyways? But like moreso.

He just. Writes something up and there's things getting signed or shook on and then the person tries to break the contract and either suddenly catch fire or are deeply unlucky for a set amount of time.

And Tarvek's just standing there like "how in the FUCK did I do that?"

Severity of infernal punishment depends on the severity of the breach of contract.

Tarvek finds out that Anevka's been convincing rich people to sign their souls over to her. It's a fun challenge. She keeps them in jars.

They can still remotely pilot their bodies but like. They can't TELL anyone what happened.

Satan: I'm going to go make babies and now everyone else has to deal with the consequences.

Anevka's living up to that whole "princess of hell" vibe. Tarvek's just like "nope nope nope I want the storm throne, not the hell throne, BYE MOM."

Satan's just feeling sinself down in hell like "awwww look at my babies go, aren't they adorable?"

Tarvek: Anevka, what... first off, how did you figure it out? Anevka: Well, I temporarily died when father put me in the machine, and... I can't say that hell kicked me out because they were afraid I'd take over, but mother DID say she'd rather I play about with human governments instead of Hell's. Tarvek: Okay, cool cool cool. What after you planning to DO with all these souls? Anevka: They make for some lovely reading lamps, don't they?

(Anevka absolutely sets herself the goal of acquiring new titles that rival her old ones, or even surpass them. She just black widows her way through Europa.)

I just want someone (probably Snackleford) to ascend, take one look at Tarvek, and run SCREAMING.

Tarvek still needed to be anchored to Higgs, because Tarvek is Baby.

Gil is eventually in a relationship with an Eternal God Queen and the Literal Son of Satan.

Family dinners can include ALL the in-laws if you duck down to hell! - You borrow Bill from... probably heaven, maybe purgatory. - You have Lu and Aaronev and Satan already there, though the first two... well. Aaronev and Lu get invited to dinner but they have to eat by themselves at the kiddy table and nobody talks to them or acknowledges their presence. After all, this is hell, and what better punishment for Lu than to be completely ignored, and for Aaronev to see Lu at her worst and be reminded that he gave everything for this horrible, horrible person who isn't even pretending to care about him anymore. - Zanta and Klaus get invited via portal. - Anevka saunters in with a blood-soaked dress and a complaint about militant demon-hunters refusing to let her go shopping for a new pair of shoes. - Zeetha tagged along with the OT3. (She can't wait to see this situation explode.)

Oh God, Satan is actually second place as far as good parenting goes.

Well, actually, fourth. Because Adam and Lilith. But second as far as bio parents go. 1. Zanta 2. Satan 3. Klaus 4/5. Lu and Aaronev N/A. Bill

Someone (Anevka) decides to stir the pot and invites Von Pinn, Terabithia, Bang.

Bang is basically Gil’s older sister, right? Right.

This is Zanta meeting Bang for the first time! Zanta is just: "It's so nice to meet my husband's adopted daughter." Klaus freezes. Bang freezes. Gil is the only one who is just. "Yeah." Meanwhile Zeetha is crying with laughter off to the side because both of them deserve this. (Zanta would legit love Bang though.)

Agatha: Tarvek, I think DuPree is-- Tarvek: Hitting on my sister? I know. Agatha: On your mom, actually. Tarvek: NO!

Also I do love the idea of like. Nobody tells Bang they're inviting her. She just wakes up in Hell like. "Ah. Yes. Fair enough."

Satan: Oh no no no my dear, you're here as a guest. Besides as well as you'd fit you're not one of mine, you've got other things waiting for you. Bang: Okay, but I love the decor. And is that Cheesecake?

Bang’s family has their own evil god in the novels, but! Bang DID pick on Tarvek a lot in Paris. Satan cares more than Anevka does. Bang might get the sexy punishment.

I feel like the fact that no permanent damage was done and it taught Tarvek a lot of things means Satan isn't gonna be all that upset about it.

And let's be real, if there's a character in GG who could look the literal Christian devil in the eye and be like "Yeah I tortured your kid, what're you going to do about it?" it's Bang.

Even Satan doesn't know what to do or think about Othar.

He sure is here! As Anevka’s arm candy! Nobody knows what to do except Anevka herself, who just wants to be Smug.

(What's that scene from Phineas and Ferb that's the mad scientist trapping the platypus within the rules of polite dining at a fine restaurant? Like he can't make a scene because that would be rude?) (That. Othar would dearly love to start a fight, but it's a Family Dinner. You're only allowed to fight verbally at those.)

(Othar isn't even fighting Satan, he just wants to argue with Klaus.) (And maybe fanboy in Bill's direction a bit).

#Girl Genius #Phoenix Posts #Anevka Sturmvoraus #Tarvek Sturmvoraus #Aaronev Sturmvoraus #Gilgamesh Wulfenbach #Agatha Heterodyne #Lucrezia Mongfish #Othar Tryggvassen #Bangladesh DuPree #Otharnevka #GG OT3

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minetteskvareninova · 1 year

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Minette watches Medici, part 9 (Old Scores)

- Yes, my friends, the triumphant return of Minette watches Medici is here! The series that noone liked, Minette least of all... Like, you thought reading it was painful?! Try writing this shit!

- Okay, first off, the theme song - FUCK the theme song. Either reuse Renessaince, or don’t. Do NOT fucking cheat by using its inferior knockoff. Understood?!

- The characters aren’t good enough for me to fall in love with, but I still Vibe with them in general. Except for Lorenzo, who is hot, smart and in general a veritable boyfriend material - well, except for the whole “banging a married woman” thing, but it’s renessaince Italy, people are having extramarital shags left and right, we can’t go all Savanarola on their asses, not when real Savanarola is just around the corner...

- Speaking of clergy! My stupid ass mistook Piero for some kind of family priest. Would the Medici even have a family priest at this point? Like, maybe, they were of course loaded and their household might’ve been big enough to warrant it...

- The evil Pazzi brother has a strong “if villain evil why hot” energy. What can I say? Minette loves herself some good cheekbones, and I strongly suspect this guy is going to be the old Albizzi of this season. Helps that his most evil act so far was beating the shit out of Giuliano, and I personally don’t care about Giuliano.

- The most thrilling subplot of this season is “did Sean Bean keep true to his vow to stop feeding the meme machine and never ever take another role where he dies?”. Also, Ned Stark did NOT age well. Which, okay, he’s not there to be hot, and his show son is hot enough to cover the raging unsexyness of not only his father, but also his stupid brother.

- Speaking of! Lucrezia’s boyfriend is apparently played by Halbrand from The Rings of Power. Yes, the man meant to be Sexy Sauron that doesn’t end up being all that sexy. Honestly, I cannot fathom how the producers over there at Amazon looked at this show and were like “why, yes, wouldn’t EVERYONE be tempted to join the dark side by this hot piece of ass?”. Like, no, I personally wouldn’t be tempted into a game of spin the bottle. Baby Pazzi’s personality doesn’t help any, like him and Lucrezia are just Mehmet Giray and Fahriye hardboiled without salt. I mean, it is just the first episode, so maybe they get better later, but still.

- “We raised Sandro as our own” - NO. Show, I am willing to swallow anything, but do not try to convince me the Medici family has taken in Sandro Boticelli of all people as their ward. From now on, I am just pretending this is some kind of Lorenzo’s artist buddy, who just happens to be named Alessandro, and very much not the author of The Birth Of Venus and Primavera.

- Political stuff is still the best part of this show bar none. Just... A+++ out of the gate, no notes. “Did the Pazzi family orchestrate the attack?” may not be as exciting a premise as “Who killed old Giovanni?” (or “is Sean Bean going to die again?”), and probably doesn’t have an answer that interesting, but it still gives some juicy, juicy drama. Though if the whole thing was orchestrated by the guy who wanted to marry his son to Lucrezia, I will get pretty mad at the blatant ripoff of the last season, where a third party also turns out to be the real villain.

- One annoying thing that persists (and if anything seems to have only gotten worse) is the attempt to whitewash the Medici family. Like, I get that we want to add layers(tm) and likeability(tm), but the show’s attempts to pretend they are anything but ruthless protocapitalists trying to make their way in an oligarchical political system do sometimes go way too far. Lorenzo is already hot and smart, I won’t get mad if he isn’t also perfectly good and saintly and shit.

- Contessina had a cameo in this episode! Yay! Also, I wonder if Piero’s second daughter appears in the show; I mean, she doesn’t have to, considering she was already married at this point, but you know. It would be nice.

- Overall a nice return to form, no big complaints from me so far...

#medici: the magnificent #minette watches medici

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themannequins · 3 years

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i wish i were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free; and laughing at injuries, not maddening under them.

MIROSLAVA VAN DER BELLEN ESSEN, a twenty four year old grisha in the little palace. she is a tidemaker and are known in the little palace as the mannequin. they are known to be methodical and repressed and vaguely resemble milena tscharntke.

character inspiration: emma woodhouse ( emma ), sansa stark ( got ), daphne bridgerton ( bridgerton ), anastasia ( anastasia )

ABOUT AND LIFE

if you want to die here is my baby’s full bio but i couldn’t shut the fuck up while writing it so here’s the summary but i can’t shut up ever so i added new things here ANYWAYS

here’s my baby miroslava (ex van der bellen) now essen. she’s a control freak, people pleaser, the nicest girl you’ve ever met and she’s always just fine. she’s made sure to build her personality around what others might like and she has been pretending for so long she doesn’t even know she’s pretending anymore and she has no fucking clue who she is, but she doesn’t even know that :)

tw: death, misogyny, gaslighting and sleepwalking ( just in case )

born in fjerdan to the noble family van der bellen, miroslava was the youngest and only daughter of freyja and kuznetsov. her mother, died during child birth and her father resented miro for that and he always made sure she knew just how much he blamed her for it.

for the moment miro was born she was promised to the son of another noble. she grew up with the idea that her purpose in life was to marry. she was molded by different tutors and governesses to be the “perfect wife” whose only purpose would be to please and obey her husband because according to her father those should be a woman’s priorities. the idea that she as incomplete unless she marries was rooted into her and is still with her till this day.

she was never allowed to join in whatever activity her father and brother were doing because it wasn’t “lady like” but that wasn’t just it, her father simply couldn’t stare the sight of the child who had taken his wife away from him. had it not been for anastas, her older brother, miro’s life would’ve been incredibly dull. her whole world. had it not being for him miro wouldn’t have known what love truly was. anastas used to sneak miro out of the house so that she could hang out with him and his friends, who in time became her friends as well.

fjerdan testers, non grisha who made sure there were no grisha hidden in their country, were scheduled to come to the van der bellen manor to test miro. to try and protect his sister and out of fear she might be grisha, anastas gave her a small cut on her forearm, just like her mother had given him when he was younger. accidentally, he slowered his sister’s heart in that moment so that she wouldn’t be afraid, and they both discovered anastas was grisha. miro was terrefied, not because her brother was one of the monsters she had heard so much about, but because she knew the real monster, their father, would should him no mercy if he ever found out.

their father began to suspect and one night he asked miro about anastas. she denied everything but he convinced her he wanted to “help” miro believed him, and told him. that same night drüskelle came in and took anastas and miro understood she had been deceived by her father. she kicked and scream but her father held her in place as he patted her head, the same way one would pet a loyal dog. she never saw anastas again, her father fobbid her from ever speaking his name. miro believes her brother to be dead, and she knows she was responsible for yet another death.

only five months after anastas was gone, miro’s powers first appeared, she was a tidemaker. her father found out at the same time she did and she was driven to the house drüskelle officer. she was locked and left to wait, for what? she will never know because when she thought all hope was lost a servant kid her age appeared in the room and helped her out of the house and into a carriage that was meant to go near the border of ravka. it was a long shot, but it was all she had.

she ran and made it to ravka. three nuns from a near by convent found her and she spend a few months there were she grew quiet until she barely spoke a word to anyone but in time she realized she needed to go back to her old sweet and polite ways because that seemed the way to get people to like you. after a few monts she was adopted by edmund essen.

at first, it was hard for her to adapt to life in the essen manor because she felt that if she allowed herself to love her new siblings she was betraying anastas (all over again) but in time they found a way into her heart, as dysfunctional as they are, she loves them.

she adores her father, edmund essen, yes she’s a daddy’s girl AND WHAT ABOUT IT THE MAN IS COOL AS SHIT and her old father was the absolute worst. when edmund fell ill a few months ago she left the little palace to look after him.

miro sleepwalks. anastas always looked after her whenever she did, and even though she has her siblings who look after her now, everytime she awakes as well as feeling disoriented she feels incredibly sad because she’s reminded her brother anastas isn’t there. she has dark circles under her eyes always because she sometimes avoids sleep altogether in fear that she will sleepwalk but she always asks her sister lucrezia to tailor her so that she can look as if nothing happened every day.

bosses around every single person but she does it in a way that it doesn’t feel like she’s bossing you around but that she’s helping you, but it’s different when it comes to her siblings. miro bosses every single one of them in without being sublte about it, she’s not afraid to raise their voice at them when things aren’t done the way she likes them. this earned her the nickname of general among the essen siblings.

very popular around the little palace, not queen bitch popular vibes but nice girl popular vibes.

#once upon a december plays in the background #ravkahq:intro

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thecloserkin · 3 years

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fic rec: Vignettes by CosmicZombie

fandom: The Borgias (Showtime 2011)

pairing: Cesare Borgia/Lucrezia Borgia

word count: 17k

is it explicit: yes

bottom line: Cesare heals Lucrezia from the emotional trauma of her marriage; this fic healed me from the ennui of being alive

It’s an S1 AU where Lucrezia returns to Rome from Pesaro to await her divorce, but Rome does not feel like home anymore and Lucrezia does not feel like herself. Pesaro isn’t just a place, you see—it’s the physical manifestation of Lucrezia’s loss of identity. That bastard Giovanni Sforza made her feel worthless, made her feel like less than nothing, and you don’t recover from that kind of abuse overnight. This fic pulls off an astounding sleight of hand where it repeatedly juxtaposes Pesaro against Rome, alien-place against home-place, and then it turns out Rome isn’t home—Cesare is home. That revelation hit me like a ton of bricks.

“Am I different, Cesare?” “You are Lucrezia.” “I—I sometimes feel as though I cannot remember who I used to be.”

She’s home but not home; she’s with Cesare but she wants to be with him more (she wants his dick inside her lol).

This fic takes its time with the slow buildup of UST, and I adore how tactile Lucrezia and Cesare are. We have tears being wiped away, nose bumps, brushing of lips against knuckles, warm breath on skin, dancing in the moonlight, cuddling, even bedsharing! Another thing I’m in awe of is the imagery: I could hear the burbling of the water fountain and I was getting sleepy just from the descriptions of sunlight. She even has a dream where she sees Cesare in her own reflection in a mirror, and it was such a disturbing image that it stayed with me. In truth it’s a dreamlike atmosphere that’s evoked here—Vanozza, Juan, Gioffre etc are onscreen for 0.2 seconds even though they’re all living at the villa together—it’s pretty tightly centered on Lucrezia and Cesare. What’s going on in the outside world?? Is France about to invade & occupy the Vatican? Is Milan in cahoots with them? Are there rumblings of discontent from Naples? Has Savonarola set Florence on fire yet? Who tf knows—not Cesare or Lucrezia, they’re in their own little bubble!!!

When other characters are mentioned, however, the context is revealing:

Juan had mocked them when they were children for being like a two-headed Cerberus

Djem had told her of Indian tigers once, how when the monsoon came after months of drought they sometimes drank so much in compensation that they drowned their own hearts in water.

That second quote!!! That’s Lucrezia being reunited with Cesare and immediately trying not to gorge herself on him. She missed him so much while she was away in Pesaro!

So Lucrezia has insomnia. Of course, before she left Rome, she used to sleep like a baby:

“Come,” Cesare said gently, pulling their clasped hands to his chest and kissing her knuckles. “Let me read you to sleep as I used to…What should you like to hear, sis?” “Anything so long as it is in your voice,” Lucrezia murmured, eyelids heavy.

This passage, I think, best encapsulates the rupture that has occurred in Lucrezia:

She wondered now that she was back how she had been able to bear being away from him for so long, but then she felt that she had not only been away from him while at Pesaro, but also away from herself. Now that she had returned she ached for both of them so deeply she felt as though it would consume her.

What a turn of phrase! She had not only been away from Cesare but away from herself. Because Cesare is her own self q.e.d. bye

“Sometimes I feel as though I no longer exist,” Lucrezia whispered, leaning her forehead against his … It is only when I am with you that I feel like myself again, Cesare.” “I would cut out his heart for what he has done to you, sis.” “What good is his heart? It will not make me feel myself again …Only yours can do that, brother, as it has always done.”

ONLY CESARE MAKES HER FEEL REAL AAAAAAA!!!

Here is where the UST really starts to build, and Lucrezia feels the little tremors of physical attraction under her abiding affection for Cesare:

she felt as though she were simultaneously glimpsing the assurance of the one thing which would never change, and flickers of things she had always known before but never truly been confronted with.

shoulders pressed together the way they had sat together so often over the years; on one or other of their beds, or the walls of the Vatican, or on this very spot – yet it somehow felt infinitely different to any of those times. He had always been her solace, in everything. Never before had he somehow been part of what troubled her.

This is a conversation wherein Lucrezia doubts she is worthy enough to experience all-consuming soul-engulfing romantic love the way it’s valorized in stories and songs:

“But you have been with women, Cesare …You know what it is to love someone, to be loved. I have not known that. I may never know it.” “You will know it someday, my love. I promise you.“ “But I do not know it now. Tell me what it is like. Tell me that it exists…Please, Cesare.” “I do not know if I have ever loved a woman I have been with in the way you describe, sister.” “Is such love impossible?” “In every sense of the word, my love.”

This conversation is EVERYTHING. I cut out out the body language but it’s like, Cesare is finishing every single sentence with “my love”??? What more proof does she want that he loves and adores and desires her above all other women?? “Impossible loves” indeed!!!

She had craved his attention and his very presence whenever he was missing from her – but she felt now that she still craved him even when she was with him. The power of it overwhelmed her and empowered her all at once, and was more consuming than her love of god had ever been.

THEIR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER IS MORE POWERFUL THAN THEIR LOVE FOR GOD this is it this is the essence of Cesare/Lucrezia

For most of her childhood, she had lived in fear she would never find anyone else in the world whom she loved as much as her brother. Sitting amidst the wildflowers with her hair unravelling and her heart racing as they looked at each other, she knew it had been a long time since she had feared that.

Did somebody say platonic/fraternal affection shading imperceptibly into romantic attachment??? My jaaaaaam

“How many people do you think are blessed with such intimacy of the soul, Cesare?” “None that I know.”

Soulmates!!!

This is the prologue to them consummating their relationship—they rode out into the woods and the scene is as picturesque as can be:

“I do not like the way men look at me … I feel like fearful Daphne under their gaze, and just as helpless to escape them. They do not see me, they only see the pope’s daughter, a Borgia.” “I do not see only that.” “No, I know you do not. But you are different, Cesare … I cannot imagine what it would be to fear you.” “Many do not have to imagine.” “I do not fear you …But I fear this, Cesare…I fear what I feel for you when we are together.”

There’s no going back after this—they’re taking an irrevocable step in their relationship but they’re also ruining each other for any future partners, who could not possibly ever measure up.

She could feel how hard he was against her thigh, feel the urgency in the tremor of his hands where they touched her hair, feel the fevered thump of his heart where his chest was pressed against her own. For the first time, she felt as though she was given a glimpse of the recklessness which drove him when he was wielding a sword or charging headlong into the chaos of a battlefield.

Making love is actually not dissimilar to making war: the adrenaline rush?? The anticipation? The endorphins??

Oh wait no jk they don’t consummate till they get back to the villa later that night. This is my favorite passage from this fic, it’s Lucrezia running into him on the terrace after supper and really seeing him. She’s the only one who’s ever seen all of him:

Here in the shadows with just the two of them the impatient ambition and calculating intelligence that constricted him as much as his Cardinal’s red was lost, and he was just himself. The brother Lucrezia had known since she was placed into his arms less than an hour after she first came into the world, who had existed before ambition or anger in his devotion, curiosity and passion. It was the Cesare she and she alone knew, and it made emotion bloom in her chest to think she was the only person who had ever known him as this.

And then they go back to her room and bang, which is how Lucrezia finds herself again. Protip everyone: skip the Eat Pray Love and instead embark on a journey of self-discovery by banging your brother!

#cesare x lucrezia #fic rec #the borgias

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sirowsky · 3 years

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The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature/Explicit 18+ONLY

Warnings: Language, smut.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: I was in need of a little light-heartedness today, and an idea that I discussed a while back with my darling @lucrezia-thoughts, came to mind. Marcus has a little *heat* problem of his own, and there’s some baby-related fluff towards the end. Now, I’m not a mother myself so those parts are mostly just wishful thinking, but hopefully enjoyable all the same.

Chapter 40

You were sitting in a café in Paris, La Cantine de Mémé, north-east of the Arc de Troimphe, enjoying a Mediterranean salad while you waited for your contact. Marcus was sitting opposite you under the canopy in the outdoor seating, his back to the front of the café, overlooking the busy street behind you. He seemed casual enough to anyone observing him, but you could tell how alert he was. How aware he was of every car or scooter that passed by, even if he didn’t directly look at them. He was good at using all his senses to gauge his surroundings, and you’d become quite fascinated with seeing him out in the field. But you weren’t there on holiday, so you reminded yourself not to lose focus. The salad was just for show, just as the salmon that Marcus had already finished, but you did still enjoy it. With your powers returned to full force, your appetite had quadrupled again, and you’d already burned through your breakfast.

“I did ask you to get something more filling than a salad, hermosa.”

“This isn’t a real lunch, remember?”

“No reason it can’t be both a meeting and a lunch.”

“You in a white linen shirt is distracting enough, I don’t need to add to it.”

He smiled warmly at you, and took your free hand on the table.

“And you don’t think that the risk of you passing out from energy-depletion is equally distracting to me?”

“I’m nowhere near that hungry.”

“And I’d like you to stay that way.”

“Fine. I’ll have another dish.”

His smile widened in gratitude, and he called the waiter over. Just as you’d finished placing an order for the same salmon dish that Marcus had eaten, you saw his posture shift, ever so slightly, and you knew that your contact had arrived. Neune plopped down on a chair at the side of the table, looking as at home here in the bustling streets of Paris, as she had among the mountains of Norway. Her gorgeous brown skin looked even more beautiful under the midday sun, and somehow, the toned down and neutral colours of her clothes seemed to enhance that, while on others, it would’ve probably made them look bland.

“Hey, Moreno’s. It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise, Deema. You doing okay?”

“All good so far. You’re getting bigger, Rainbow. How long until you pop?”

“Oh, not for another four months or so.”

“Any idea what it is yet?”

“Um… no. We haven’t actually been to see an OBGYN yet.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because we don’t know how closely SIC is watching us. If we make an appointment, even with a private company, we can’t know for sure that the person we meet will be safe.”

You and Marcus had discussed this at length on more than one occasion. He really wanted you to get checked out, but you were terrified of being in such an exposed position with a person you didn’t know and couldn’t possibly trust. Women had been having babies for as long as humans had existed, and while there were always risks of complications, you had to weigh those against the risks of actively putting your baby’s safety in the hands of a stranger. With those options being the only ones available to you, you’d opted for managing the pregnancy on your own. At five months development the baby was moving all the time now, and everything felt good. You weren’t nearly as frightened of possible complications as you were of SIC.

“We really need to take those bastards out of commission, but in the meantime… I might know someone that could help set your minds at ease.”

Marcus perked up at hearing that.

“Really? Who?”

“Her name’s Kerstin, and she’s an old midwife, long since retired, and… kinda abrasive. But, she’s still very good at what she does. She spends her time helping homeless people and battered women, and I can promise you that she is a woman that would spit in the face of anyone who tried to recruit her to any secret organisation. Including the Guardians. She just doesn’t do organisations particularly well, but she can keep a secret to save a frickin spider.”

“I like her already. How soon do you think we could meet her?”

“Within the week, I’d say. I’ll reach out to her and get back to you.”

“Thank you so much, Deema.”

Marcus was visibly relieved, as if this was a fear he’d been carrying around like bricks on his shoulders, and now they suddenly just fell off. The waiter returned with your second dish, and as the delicious smell filled your nostrils you were suddenly ravenous, and as you dug into the food, you cocked an eyebrow at Marcus. You weren’t having a clandestine meeting to discuss childbirth. He caught your meaning and got to work.

“So, why are we here? What’d you find?”

“Right. Myself and three other agents discovered a pattern with SIC’s movements here in Paris, and we’ve been trying to get ahead of it for the past six weeks. Last week we finally caught a break, and discovered an active lab underneath a damned teashop in the city centre.”

“An active one? Did you actually see the equipment?”

“I have photos for you.”

She pulled out a small digital camera, a model that had no hardware allowing for wireless transfer, in order to make sure no one could detect or download any information from it from afar. It had a display on the back so the user could review their images, and as you watched Marcus’ face as he flipped through them, you suddenly felt faint. You didn’t need to see them to know what he was looking at. He’d been in one of those chairs himself. He took a few calming breaths before continuing.

“Is it still there?”

“No. The morning after we found it, it was dismantled and scrubbed clean, but we don’t think it was because they knew we’d found it. More likely that was just their schedule. We didn’t dare leave a tracker on the equipment in case they found it, but since we had an idea of their movements, we made an attempt to reacquire them after they’d changed location, and it worked. We’ve cracked their schedule.”

“Deema, this is huge.”

“It’s only for Paris, though. The model doesn’t work for other places, they seem to be individualised.”

“It’s still huge. This gives us a chance to actually observe their experiments, see how far they’ve gotten with Prince’s methods.”

You’d gulped down your salmon by then, and chipped in.

“This is priceless information for the birds.”

“The birds? What birds?”

Only four of you, within the whole Guardian network, standing nearly 400 heads strong by now, knew the details about the bird-operation, and Neune wasn’t one of them.

“You’ll see when it’s time. Keep up the good work, we’ll set up a dead-drop for any physical evidence you can get your hands on. We’ll be here until tomorrow morning, if you should find out anything more before then.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know about Kerstin.”

“Thank you.”

You parted ways with Neune, and you and Marcus strolled away down the street, making your way back to your hotel on foot, looking for all the world like nothing more than a couple enjoying a romantic weekend in the city of love. He had an arm around your waist at your back, matching your strides so he could hold you to him as you walked. He’d always wanted physical closeness, but it seemed that the more your belly grew, the closer he got. He was almost at a point now that he didn’t even like it when you left his side to go to the bathroom. He seemed to need to touch you, but not because he was afraid of losing you. This seemed more like that slightly predatory edge he sometimes got, but not in the protective way it had manifested before. His need was primal, and you had trouble understanding just where it came from. It didn’t really bother you, but it lingered in your mind sometimes. Anything you couldn’t puzzle out about your husband did. When you got back to the hotel, you were already hungry again, and that did bother you. You sighed unhappily as Marcus held the door for you, and walked straight up to the phone. He looked a bit worried, until he heard you order room-service, and then he smiled while he listened to you place an obscenely large order.

“Now, that’s my wife.”

“Your wife is really sick of eating.”

You scowled and took off your shoes, then walked over to the balcony to open the doors and let the breeze in. You were too hot all the time now, but it still didn’t annoy you half as much as the constant eating.

“Even though my body seems to make sure that all food tastes wonderful to me right now, I’m so tired of feeling hungry all the time. It’s like it never even lands in my stomach. How is that even possible?”

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and nuzzled your neck.

“I can distract you, if you want. That order’s gonna take a while.”

His voice was pure velvet in your ears. His hands stroked their way over your belly and down to your centre, and when he felt you react to his touch, he decided that he already had your answer. He gently tugged you backwards towards the bed, opening the zipper on the back of your summer-dress while he manoeuvred you. He turned you around as you reached the foot of the bed, so he could kiss you, and while his hands were gentle and soft as they removed your clothes, his lips were hot and demanding. You weren’t in the mood to take charge today, you just wanted him to make you feel good, and he could tell. He could always tell what you wanted. He urged you to lay back and settled between your legs as soon as his own clothes were discarded. His mouth continued to reveal his urgency and you got the feeling that he had to work hard not to just take you, claim you once again. His hands continued to stay soft as they massaged your swollen breasts, but you could feel his heart pounding against his chest, and the heat rise in his skin.

“Marcus… If you need more, take it.”

He pulled back to look at you, and suddenly you could see the same need in his eyes, as you felt in his lips, and he looked like he was almost in pain.

“Don’t hold back, there’s no reason to. I belong to you, remember.”

That blew his pupils in an instant, and all of a sudden that urgency was in every muscle in his body. His hands flew down to your thighs to hold you in place while he pushed inside you. He was forceful and powerful in every movement, dragging himself against the tightness of your slick walls with so much strength that even though you were clamped down on him in pleasure, he still managed to thrust. He’d never done that before, and you could see how it almost hurt him to do it. Your hold on him was so intense, that every time he pulled back, your whole body was dragged along a few inches, but he refused to stop. You wouldn’t have asked him to for yourself, he wasn’t hurting you in the slightest, but you couldn’t understand why he felt such an overpowering need to do this to himself. His head dropped to rest on your shoulder as he kept thrusting, faster and harder in time with your build-up. But as your walls started to swell with your burgeoning orgasm, he had to stop, and just buried himself deep inside you, grinding his hips into yours and toppling over the edge as you did. Afraid of crushing the baby between you, he fell to the side, pulling you along so he could stay inside you while you both came back down. For a few minutes you just held him, waiting for his heart to settle, and his breathing to normalise.

“Talk to me, Marcus. What was that?”

“It won’t make any more sense to you than it does to me.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I just feel this need to… breed you. Which is ridiculous because I already have.”

“I don’t think that’s ridiculous. Maybe it’s a dominance thing, some old buried instinct to prove to your female that you’re still a viable mate, even though she’s already gotten what she wanted.”

“Whatever the hell it is, it’s powerful. I can barely think about anything else whenever we’re alone.”

“Well, whenever we’re alone, feel free to get it out of your system. I can’t say I like what it does to you, but I also can’t say that I didn’t enjoy that.”

“I didn’t hurt you?”

“I would’ve told you if you had, you know that. And you know my pussy’s always less constricting on round two.”

At that moment, there was a knock on the door, and you sighed.

“But I guess that’ll have to wait.”

You got up and pulled on a robe to accept the positively packed trolley of food that arrived. You tipped the bellboy that brought it up and then set about lifting the plate hoods to explore your options. But strong hands grabbed your robe to tear it off and twirled you away from the food, to pin you up against the closest wall, hitch your legs up on his hips and bury himself inside you again.

“I’m sorry, mi amor.”

He was already setting a pace, rocking into you hard as his need overtook him again.

“Food’s gonna have to wait a little.”

“Oh, my god… you really are overpowered by this thing. You’ve never… ah… made me wait for food before…”

“Don’t make me feel more guilty about it… just take me, hermosa. Like only you can.”

Your walls were more giving than before, making it less painful for him, and he took full advantage of that. The wet sounds of your arousal mixed with his previous load still clinging to your pussy, as he drove into you, made you want him even more. His hands came around your back and you felt him push them in behind your hipbones, which seemed to be an uncomfortable place to put them, but then you realised that he was checking to feel how hard your back was being slammed against the unforgiving surface. And then he held you to him and moved away from the wall and back to the bed. You didn’t mind the little ache that his forcefulness had caused at the small of your back, but once he had you against the soft mattress, his thrusts deepened and the power of his movements took on a more rolling character. If he’d still had you up against the wall doing that, he’d not only have bruised your back, but the top layer of your skin might have peeled off against the course wallpaper.

“Fuck, you feel good…”

He was breathing hard against your mouth in between demanding kisses.

“Don’t I always?”

You were teasing him, dragging your nails up along his back, making him hiss through his teeth, and disrupting his rhythm. He got you back, though, by dragging his own nails along your thighs and ass, sending tendrils of pleasure through you.

“Tell me again, hermosa.”

Ever since your wedding night, he’d been incredibly turned on by hearing you say that one sentence that had brought that night to a close for you. And you were only too happy to repeat it for him.

“You feel like you were made to please me.”

He grunted with pleasure and you could feel him getting close. You knew that feeling him come inside you would be more than enough to take you along with him, so you spurred him on.

“You fill me like no one else ever could.”

His pace began to falter.

“I want you. Only you.”

You tightened around him as you felt him start to pulse against your walls. He almost completely stopped moving for a second as he was overcome with sensory overload.

“Fill me…”

He did. His whole body tensed like you’d never seen before, his hips jutting into you of their own accord. His hands left your body and grabbed the pillows instead, not to hurt you when they involuntarily clenched into fists so hard his knuckles turned white. His powers flared, and waves of electromagnetism much richer than his usual current, crashed over and through you, but nothing in the room moved. As though it was centered on just you. You came right along with him, brought to the brink both by his powers and by feeling him squirt into you, and his load was incredible. It poured out of you as he began to soften, pooling on the sheets underneath you, and then he collapsed on top of you. You’d been prepared for that, and already had a small energy-barrier in place across your abdomen so that he could slump down over you without any discomfort to your child. It did mean that his torso was slightly curved, and his own stomach less than comfortably pushed back against his spine, so as soon as he’d regained enough of his senses to move again, he rolled off of you, falling on his back next to you instead.

“So, should we designate this as your version of being in heat?”

“Oh, fuck… You were right about that.”

“How do you mean?”

“When you said you hoped it wasn’t that, because it was exhausting… I second that.”

“Well, let’s hope you’re satiated for now, cause mama bear just woke up.”

“She did? I didn’t hear anything…”

You held three fingers up in the air, and counted them down, and right when the last one dropped, she growled. Marcus burst into laughter as you sighed and got up to clean yourself up before eating. Again.

Two days later you were back home and in the process of preparing a Friday night dinner with your family. Anita had joined you, as she most often did on the weekends now, and she was in a good mood, even smiling at you. She perused through the kitchen commenting on how you each should approach your various tasks in the preparation of the food, and delighting in how well you were taking her instructions. Then the doorbell rang. And if you’d known who was gonna be behind it, you’d probably have told her to come back another time, thus missing out on one of the best nights of your entire life. But you didn’t know who it was, and when Marcus opened the door, all you heard was a gruff voice asking if this was the Moreno residence. And when he answered yes, an old lady of medium height, with what appeared to be at least one gammy hip, if not both, stomped into the house by means of an old and worn cane, and came to a stop as she reached the kitchen. She had crisp snow-white hair, permed and styled to perfection, modern and kinda trendy reading-glasses that hung in a sling around her neck, and she was wearing a long laser-blue skirt, white blouse and matching blue dress-jacket. She was round and broad-shouldered and had a proud set to her jaw, that didn’t feel like it came from arrogance, but rather a tested confidence. Your overall impression of her was that this was a woman that had seen shit, but never taken it.

“So, you’re about five months then. Baby moving?”

You were so taken aback by her bold entrance and general appearance that you didn’t even register that she was asking you a question, at first. But you regained your marbles after a few seconds.

“Sorry, who are you?”

“Kerstin. And I’m a busy woman, so tell me – is the baby moving?”

You hadn’t even heard back from Neune yet, it had only been two days.

“Oh. Um, yes. All the time.”

“Good. Well, come on then, I haven’t got all night.”

“I don’t understand…”

“We don’t need a clinic for me to do an initial examination, just lead me to your bedroom and we’ll get it over with.”

Anita had been quietly observing the trespasser, but at the mention of you being alone with this stranger, she decided to mark her territory.

“Hold on there, lady. Just what makes you think you can barge into this house and start barking out orders?”

“I was asked to come. For my expertise, not my manners, if I’ve understood the situation correctly. Don’t worry, grandma, I won’t step on your toes.”

The indignation in Anita’s face, being called a grandmother by a woman at least 20 years older than her, was so palpable it was comical. You were enjoying the hell out of it already, but Marcus couldn’t help but try and keep things civil.

“Okay, well, Kerstin, thank you so much for coming, the master bedroom’s this way. Hermosa, let’s go.”

Two months ago, you’d had two break-ins to your home in two consecutive days, and as a result, you now had several layers of protection guarding your home. Kerstin wouldn’t have seen any of it, but if she’d had any significant scruples in her past or shown up with any malicious intent, she wouldn’t even have gotten close to the house. That was why Marcus hadn’t even tried to stop her as she barged in, and Neune’s assurances that this woman was trustworthy, was enough to make him feel secure around her. Even enough to let her examine you. Though, not alone. He led the way to the bedroom and closed the door behind you. Kerstin went straight to work.

“Remove the clothes from your bottom half and lay down on the edge of the bed. Husband, grab a pillow and throw it on the floor in front of her.”

You both did as she commanded, and it felt more than a little weird to be in your bedroom with your husband, half-naked, with a complete stranger about to touch your privates. But these were less than ordinary circumstances. Marcus instinctively reached out to help her when the old woman suddenly kneeled down, leaning heavily on her cane to be able to do it. She didn’t swat his hands away, or tell him that she’d manage, like you might’ve expected, and she grimaced a little as she lowered herself onto the pillow he’d placed on the floor. She had no problems being seen for what she was – an old lady with a body that could probably tell a thousand stories of her life.

“Okay, now, let’s see. I’ll do a simple vaginal exam first, just to see that everything’s in order.”

She put the glasses on the tip of her nose, and pulled out a sealed package of rubber-gloves from her bag. Along with a small tube of lubrication gel. She was surprisingly gentle in her probing of your sex, but no doubt professional. She knew exactly what she was doing. And what was different.

“Hm. Interesting. You have extremely well-defined internal musculature. Your mucous membranes are incredibly sensitive to touch.”

“Yep. I’ve noticed that.”

“I’d imagine so. From what I can tell, you two are a quite active.”

You glanced at Marcus and saw that your own sheepish smile matched his.

“Yes. Quite.”

“No need to be embarrassed about it, it’s healthy. Keep it up for as long as you can.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, I have brought an upgraded ultrasound machine, so let’s have a look at your baby, shall we?”

You hadn’t expected that, and suddenly you were both really excited.

“Help me up, husband. These old hips have already been replaced once, I don’t particularly wanna do it again.”

“My name’s Marcus.”

“Pleased to meet you. Something wrong with ‘husband’?”

“No. I just realised I’d neglected to introduce myself in the slight chaos of your entry.”

“Hah, you call that chaos? Bringing five boxes of handknitted wool-socks to an orphanage in Poland, and realising that it wouldn’t be enough for everybody – that was chaos. You should’ve seen their faces. We brought them tonnes upon tonnes of toys and clothes and even candy, but the only thing they fought over were those damned socks.”

While she spoke, she retrieved the ultrasound machine. It was basically just an 8-inch pad with a detachable scanner that she placed against your belly, and then started tapping away at the screen. She adjusted the scanner twice, and then she smiled and turned the pad around for you to see. The image was surprisingly clear, and the baby was clearly visible, lying on its side and kicking gently with its little legs. You were so familiar with the feeling, but actually seeing your child perform the movement made it so unbelievably real somehow. Neither of you spoke, you just quietly watched your little miracle as it kept working away in there, occasionally stretching an arm out, but mostly it was just the legs.

“Thank you so much for this, Kerstin.”

Marcus’ voice was thick with emotion when he spoke, and you began to realise just how badly he’d needed this. He’d gone through a whole month thinking his baby had been lost. And even though he took every opportunity to remind himself that it was still alive, by keeping a hand on your belly as often as he could keep you still for long enough to actually feel it, those memories would haunt him forever. You got the distinct impression that the old lady knew that his reaction was more than just fatherly joy, but she didn’t pry and instead just nodded warmly in response, before asking if you’d like a picture.

When you re-emerged from the bedroom, Anita and Missy had busied themselves with completing dinner, and you just smiled and handed them the picture. Missy took it and instantly got teary-eyed, mumbling about her really going to be a big sister, and Anita looked at it over her shoulder and simply commented that it looked strong, before returning to her cooking. But you knew that she was just avoiding getting too emotional around everyone.

“I’ll be back in about three months, for a follow-up. Here’s a number where you can reach me if anything should come up before then.”

Kerstin handed you a note and started walking towards the door.

“Wait, at least stay for dinner. It’s the least we could do after you took the trouble to come here.”

“What makes you think it was any trouble? I’ve travelled all over the world to help people for most of my life, and I never asked them for anything. What makes you any different?”

“Nothing, I guess. It’s just an offer.”

She considered it for a few beats, and then just raised her eyebrows.

“What the heck, I’m hungry.”

With that, she hobbled over to the dining room and sat down at the head of the table, as if it was just her natural place in any setting. You glanced at Anita and had to supress a bubbling laugh as she was in danger of spewing steam out of her ears any second. Marcus came over to you, and whispered in your ear.

“This might not have been your best idea, hermosa. My mother isn’t good with people who are even grittier than her. She could very well bring the house down.”

“I’d like to see her try.”

You sent a ghost hand to brush across his cheek, as a gentle reminder that you were, in fact, the strongest person in the house, and he smiled.

“Enjoy this, Marcus. It’s gonna be good, I promise.”

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, please don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

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#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno fic #we can be heroes #we can be heroes fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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