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violettwrites · 2 days

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trailer park trash 🏹 young!daryl dixon

a/n: had this sitting in my drafts for a while 🫠 but i finally got around to finishing it ! i’m lowkey obsessed w the idea of young!daryl atm as well he’s just so fine 😭 but i hope y’all enjoy this ! please give me a like, reblog, and/or comment if you did 🫶🏻

this is my masterlist !

and my ask box is currently open for requests !

( also shout out to @madelyncilne for being my beta reader i love u gf 🫶🏻😙 )

summary: 1988. reader has been best friends with daryl since they were little. as they celebrate his 19th birthday, drunken conversations happen where feelings that had been pushed down are told. ( pre apoc )

pairing: young!daryl dixon x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, smoking, mentions of weed— just a grunge-y trailer park party scene, making out 🫶🏻

word count: 1,856

— — —

it was july, 1988, a sweltering summer evening in the small, beat up trailer park you and daryl had called home for as long as you could remember. the worn out trailers sat in uneven rows, nestled between overgrown patches of grass and dusty gravel.

your fathers were friends— and though they were both horrible people, you were definitely blessed to have found daryl dixon amidst the chaos of your personal life. he had turned into your best friend— your confidant. he was the one you told everything to. no detail was ever too small. and even though daryl wasn’t much of a talker himself, he always listened.

it was daryl’s 19th birthday. merle, daryl’s older brother, had thrown together a party without much care. however, you both knew it was just an excuse for him to get drunk. not that he needed one anyway. he had mostly invited friends of his own. the kind you weren’t really a fan of; loud, aggressive, always looking for a fight— and way too drunk to care about the aftermath. you didn’t mind though, because you were there for daryl.

the air was thick with the smell of cheap beer and smoke, whether it was from weed or nicotine. merle’s sound system drowns out the hum of cicadas with its scream of pantera lyrics. but it was familiar to you, because this was how majority of your weekends were. you and daryl laying in his bed, ignoring merle and his friends as you smoked cigarettes. sometimes one, others five.

“hey! c’mon, you’re fallin’ behind!” merle shouted, staggering over to you with a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. he was already wasted, his wild laughter echoing through the park. you rolled your eyes at him but took a sip of the beer you had in your hand. sure, you were definitely tipsy, and even though you had no desire to keep up with merle and his crowd, it was just easier to go with it.

daryl, leaning against the side of the trailer, had been watching you most of the night. between getting dragged into games of beer pong and the several shots that he had done, he had kept his eyes on you. ready to intervene incase any of merle’s drunken friends put their hands on you.

despite the alcohol in his system, you had noticed he had been quieter than usual. no echoing cheers as he won a tournament, or no whooping after he downed three shots in a row. his shoulders were tense, eyes dark in the moonlight. you really couldn’t tell what was going on through his head tonight, but you knew he wasn’t himself.

“hey, you good?” you asked when you had made your way over to him, the party roaring on behind you. someone had lit a fire out in the field behind the dixon’s trailer, and merle and his friends were starting to get really rowdy, howling at the flames like a pack of wolves.

daryl looked at you, eyes flickering in the dim light. he shrugged, taking a long swig from the bottle in his hand. “yeah, ‘m fine. just… it’s loud, y’know?”

you nodded, leaning against the trailer next to him. you could feel the heat of his arm just barely brushing against yours. it had always been like that with daryl. the way you were always near each other, like magnets that couldn’t quite pull apart.

merle’s laugh rang out again, and you could see him egging on some of the guys, probably looking for trouble. “looks like merle’s having a good time.” you rolled your eyes, sipping at your beer again.

“yeah, well, tha’s merle,” daryl muttered, his voice low and gravelly, like he had something caught in his throat. “he don’ know when to stop.”

the two of you stood in silence for a moment, listening to the noise of the party behind you. motörhead was now playing through the speakers, and the hollers of the group down by the fire in the field was still going.

“hey, it’s your birthday. we should do something. just you and me.” you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol making you bolder, but you decided to say what had been sitting on your chest all night.

daryl looked at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was trying to read between the lines of what you said. “like what?”

“i don’t know,” you shrugged your shoulders, trying to play it off causally, “get outta here, away from this mess. go down by the creek like we used to.”

he stared at you for a moment, and you swore you saw something shift in his expression. he was already drunk, you knew that, but there was something else there too. maybe it was the same thing you had been pushing down since you were thirteen and realised what crushes were.

“yeah,” he said quietly, nodding, “let’s go.”

the two of you slipped away from the party, walking through the field and down towards the creek. although you could still hear the faint bass of the music, it was quieter down there. you could hear the water trickling over the rocks, and the occasional rustle of the wind in the trees. you sat down on the bank, the cool grass under your legs, and looked out at the stars scattered across the sky.

daryl sat down next to you, arms resting on his knees. he was closer to you than he normally was, his bicep brushing against yours. you could smell the whiskey on his breath, but you didn’t mind. you were used to the smell of cheap booze and cigarettes— it was part of life around here.

after a few minutes of comfortable silence, daryl spoke. his voice was rougher than usual, thick with whatever emotions he had been drowning all night. “y’ever think ‘bout gettin’ outta here?”

the question caught you off guard, but you answered honestly. “yeah,” you nodded, “all the time.”

he looked at you, his eyes glassy but intense. “where would ya go?”

“i don’t know,” you said with a soft laugh, “somewhere far away. maybe the mountains, or a big city. somewhere where things aren’t so messed up.”

daryl nodded his head, looking down at the bottle in his hand before taking another swig. “yeah, i think ‘bout it too.”

the silence stretched again, and you felt the weight of all the things left unsaid between the two of you. daryl shifted closer, his knee pressing against yours. his voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke again.

“i ain’t ever told you this, but… you’re the only person i give a damn about in this place.”

your breath hitched, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. you’d always felt something more for daryl, but you had never brought it up to him. you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had, and if you could only have him as a friend, then so be it. because it was better than being alone.

“me too,” you admitted, your voice barely steady. “i care about you too.”

he turned to look at you, his face inches from yours now, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. “i ain’t no good, though. you know that.”

you shook your head, your hand reaching for his, giving him a gentle squeeze. “don’t say that. you’re better than anyone else here.”

his eyes stared at you for a long moment, his eyes flicking down to your lips and back up again. the air was thick with tension, and then, without thinking, he leaned in. his lips crashed into yours, rough and urgent, tasting like whiskey and everything you’d ever wanted.

the kiss was messy, desperate, both of you giving into all of the feelings you’d buried for years. your hands cupped his cheeks, moving to crawl onto his lap, finding a new angle as you continued to make out with the boy underneath you.

when his hands moved to your waist, pulling your body closer, you swore it felt like fire when he touched you. you let his hands roam, both your tongues swirling with each other. it felt like bliss, like you were both lost in a world where only the two of you existed, the years of unspoken tension finally erupting in this one heated moment.

every breath was shared, every touch electric. you both had been waiting for this for far too long. his grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging in just enough to send shivers down your spine.

you felt the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, your nails lightly grazing the back of his neck as you deepened the kiss. the taste of whiskey still lingered on his lips, but now there was something more— something raw and unfiltered. the taste of desire.

his hands began to explore more boldly, pulling you even closer until there was no space left. your heart raced, and you weren’t sure if you were feeling your own heart thump against your chest, or his.

“daryl!” you heard a drunken voice holler from the trees, causing the two of you to break apart, breathless and cheeks red. you looked down at him for a moment, a small laugh coming from your lips as you heard the drunken voice holler once again for daryl.

merle.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that,” he mutters softly, hands gently rubbing at where he had dug his fingertips into you. he held your gaze, eyes dark.

“me too,” you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper. you could feel the weight of everything you both had left unsaid, all the words that had been replaced by the kiss, by the touch of his hands on your skin.

“daaaaryl!” you heard merle holler once again, and you chuckled softly, rolling your eyes as you moved to get up, holding out your hand to the boy beneath you, pulling him up off the creek bed.

“c’mon,” you huffed, shaking your head as you pulled him back towards the trailer. “merle’s either gonna have a fit, or he’s gonna end up drowning in the creek if we don’t get to him soon.”

daryl just chuckled, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his as you both walked towards the trailer, finding a stumbling merle with a now almost empty bottle of whiskey in his hand not too far from where the two of you had been hiding.

“there he is! there’s my baby brother!” merle shouted, throwing his arms open wide, bottle of whiskey smashing into the trees.

he watched as you let go of his hand to turn merle around, your palms on his older brother’s shoulders as you walked him back towards the trailer, a small smile on his lips.

daryl may have been trailer park trash, but at least he had someone that cared about him.

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acrosstheunivcrse · 3 days

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twinkie-toke (stoner!peter maximoff x reader)

cw: weed, like one sex joke

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“peter, what the fuck are you doing?” you walked down the stairs of his (mom’s) basement, head tilted in confusion as you tried to figure out what you were looking at.

peter held his lighter to the top of a twinkie, sucking on the other end. he exhaled some smoke with a cough, grinning up at you.

“only the most fantastic thing in the world. i think i’m a genius for it, actually.” he chomped the end of the apparent twinkie-pipe, raising his eyebrows as he silently dared you to question him more.

“i- does that even work??” you moved to sit on the couch next to him, observing the mangled, burnt, half-eaten twinkie as smoke filled the air. he took the last couple bites of it as he turned to you in response.

“well, i’m high as balls and enjoying the delectable taste of a twinkie™. i’d say it works pretty well, babe.” he grinned at you, turning on the couch and moving his legs to rest over yours. “why, you wanna try? you can do it with ding dongs too.”

he reached over and grabbed a fresh twinkie from the box on the floor next to the couch, opening the packet with his teeth.

“you just gotta kinda stick your finger in it to hollow it…” he bit his tongue as he slotted his finger into the twinkie, pushing out the cream, leaving it covering the end. he held the extremely violated snack cake in front of your face. “lick it off. c’mon, c’monnnn. this should come naturally to you.”

you rolled your eyes as you licked the end of the twinkie, leaving it hollowed and cleaned off. he grinned at you, pleased at your involvement in his stupid and fantastic invention.

“there ya go. now you just make a little divot…” he nibbled at the top, making a slot for the weed. you sighed as you passed him his sticker-covered grinder, knowing what came next. “and then you just…” he opened the grinder, carefully packing the top of the twinkie with flower. “there. is it not the most bangin’ thing you’ve ever seen?” he held it out like it was his most prized creation, dark eyes twinkling with genuine delight.

you rolled your eyes as you took the twinkie from him, holding it up to your mouth. “fine, i’ll try. light me.”

he clasped his hands together dramatically in exaggerated gratitude that you were trying his miracle method. he held the lighter out, flicking it on and swirling it around the top.

“i got you, babe. but only if i get to eat it after.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n: sorry this is so short, stoner!peter comes to me in brief visions and it’s like it’s my duty to share it with the world. i’ve done this btw, (high)ly recommend

#evan peters #quicksilver #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #quicksilver x reader #x men

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bookished · 2 days

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( a collection of enemies to allies dialogue prompts. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post 🤍 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips, it's highly appreciated.

"I still don't like you, but we need to work together. Just… try not to get in my way."

"If you think this means we're friends now, you're delusional."

"I’m only helping you because I need you alive—don’t make me regret it."

"We may hate each other, but we hate them more. So, truce?"

"This doesn't mean I trust you. It just means we have the same enemy."

"You're the last person I want to rely on, but right now, you're all I've got."

"I never thought I’d be fighting alongside you. Feels weird, doesn’t it?"

"We make a surprisingly good team… let’s not talk about it."

"I still want to punch you in the face, but we have bigger problems right now."

"You think this changes anything between us? Think again. But thanks… I guess."

"Look, I don’t want to owe you anything. So let's call this even."

"Just because we’re working together doesn't mean I’ve forgotten what you did."

"I swear, once this is over, it’s back to hating each other. Deal?"

"I never thought I’d say this, but… I could use your help."

"It’s not like I had a choice—you were the only one who could pull this off."

"Don't get any ideas. This is temporary, and after we're done, it's back to being enemies."

"I don’t like you, you don’t like me. Let’s just get through this without killing each other."

"I’m only here because I need something from you. Don’t mistake this for kindness."

"Funny how the universe keeps throwing us together, huh? Almost like a sick joke."

"You’re the last person I want to see right now, but it seems I don’t have much of a choice."

"I’m starting to hate how well we work together. It’s unsettling."

"If anyone asks, this never happened. I wasn’t here, and we didn’t help each other."

"I didn’t think we’d ever be on the same side, but here we are… how does that feel?"

"I still think you're insufferable, but I suppose I could tolerate you… for now."

"This changes nothing between us. We're just two people with the same goal—for now."

"As much as I hate to admit it, I wouldn’t have survived without you back there."

"You think saving my life means I owe you? We’re still enemies, make no mistake."

"I don't want to be here any more than you do, so let’s make this quick."

"It doesn’t sit right with me, trusting you. But what choice do I have?"

"If we manage to pull this off together, you might just earn a sliver of my respect."

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fushizhuo · 1 day

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Happier Than Ever

Y/N, the youngest member of NewJeans, doesn’t seem to fit in. Her groupmates think she’s distant and always trying to outshine them. But during one performance, she steps forward with an unplanned solo, revealing a side of her that no one saw coming. As the truth comes out, everything changes, and Y/N is forced to take a choice she never chose.

Pairing — NewJeans x F! Reader (platonic)

Genre — Angst and a bit of fluff if u squint

Warnings — Mentions of trauma and abuse

WC — 8.6k words

Y/N had always been the outlier in NewJeans. The maknae, the sassy one, the one who never seemed to care. At least, that’s what the others thought. From the moment she joined the group, she was distant, never quite fitting into their easy camaraderie. The way she threw herself into practice, trying to outdo everyone, the sharp remarks, the cold demeanor—it was enough to make them think she was just trying to steal the spotlight.

“She’s so full of herself,” Hyein had muttered one day, rubbing her sore shoulders after another long practice session. “Yeah, I don’t get why she tries so hard,” Danielle added, her tone frustrated.

“It’s like she thinks she has to be perfect all the time.” Haerin hummed. “She probably just wants to be the center of attention,” Minji sighed. “I don’t know. She’s always got this attitude. It’s like she doesn’t care about us.”

What they didn’t know was that Y/N was fighting a battle none of them could see. Her father, a man who had never supported her dream of becoming an idol, was the force behind her relentless drive.

To him, anything less than perfection was a failure. And failure wasn’t an option. “If you don’t stay at the top, you’re done,” he had told her, his voice harsh. “I’ll pull you out of that group and make sure you do something worthwhile. Doctor. Lawyer. Something respectable.”

She had no choice but to push herself harder than anyone else, even if it meant alienating her members. They didn’t understand. They couldn’t.

That night, the arena was packed. Thousands of fans waved their lightsticks, cheering as the stage lights dimmed for the next performance. Backstage, NewJeans were preparing for their set, but Y/N felt a knot in her stomach that wouldn’t go away.

Tonight, she had to break free.

Before the others could ask what was wrong, Y/N stepped forward, holding her microphone tightly. Her heart raced as she looked at Minji, her voice trembling. “I need to sing a solo.”

“What?” Minji frowned, confused. “We don’t have time for that, Y/N. It’s not part of the plan.”

“I'm sorry, but please.” Y/N said quietly, her eyes avoiding theirs. “I have to do this.”

The others exchanged glances, their frustration evident. What was she thinking? They had worked so hard to prepare for tonight’s show, and now Y/N was going off-script? But in the end they agreed. She never begs, nor apologizes. This must be important.

“Fine,” Minji finally said, exasperated. “But this better be quick.”

Y/N nodded and walked toward the stage, her steps heavy. As she stepped into the spotlight, she caught sight of her father sitting in the front row. His face was blank, emotionless, but Y/N knew better. She could feel his judgment, the pressure that had been suffocating her for years.

She grabs her guitar with her, playing the chords softly, and Y/N took a deep breath. This was it.

She was going to let everything out.

"When I’m away from you, I’m happier than ever…"

Her voice was soft at first, almost fragile, but the weight of the words echoed through the arena. The fans quieted, sensing something was different. Backstage, the other members stared in confusion, unsure of what was happening.

"Wish I could explain it better, I wish it wasn’t true…"

Y/N’s voice cracked slightly, but she kept going. The memories of her father’s cruel words, his impossible demands, played over and over in her mind. This wasn’t just a performance anymore—it was her story.

"You called me again, drunk in your benz, driving home under the influence…"

As the next verse flowed out, Minji’s eyes widened in realization. This wasn’t just some random song choice. Y/N was singing about something real. Something painful.

"You scared me to death, but I’m wasting my breath, ‘cause you only listen to your fucking friends…"

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as she sang. She could feel her father’s cold gaze on her from the audience, and it made her chest tighten. She had spent so long trying to please him, trying to be perfect, but it was never enough.

"I don’t relate to you, I don’t relate to you, no, ‘cause I’d never treat me this shitty, you made me hate this city…"

Haerin gasped softly, finally understanding. Y/N wasn’t some brat trying to outshine them. She was fighting for her life, for her dream. And she had been doing it all alone.

"And I don’t talk shit about you on the internet, never told anyone anything bad, ‘cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything, and all that you did was make me fucking sad…"

The pain in Y/N’s voice was raw, unfiltered. Every word cut deeper, every note a release of all the emotions she had buried for years. The fans were in shock, many of them wiping away tears, while backstage, the members watched, hearts breaking.

"So don’t waste the time I don’t have, don’t try to make me feel bad..."

Y/N’s voice grew louder, more intense. The anger she had kept hidden for so long was finally spilling out. She wasn’t just singing for herself—she was fighting for her freedom, for her right to choose her own life.

"I could talk about every time that you showed up on time, but I’d have an empty line, ‘cause you never did…"

Her hands trembled as she gripped the microphone, her voice carrying the weight of years of disappointment. Her father had never been there when she needed him, never supported her when she struggled, and now she was finally telling the world.

"Never paid any mind to my mother or friends, so I shut ‘em all out for you ‘cause I was a kid…"

The lights on stage seemed to dim around her as the final words fell from her lips. The room was silent, the audience stunned, unsure of how to react to the raw honesty they had just witnessed.

Backstage, the other members could only stand in shock, tears streaming down their faces. Y/N had been fighting a battle none of them had seen, a battle they had misunderstood. She wasn’t trying to be better than them. She was trying to survive.

"You ruined everything good, always said you were misunderstood, made all my moments your own..

just fucking leave me alone!"

By the end of the song, Y/N’s voice was shaking, her body trembling from the emotional toll. She stood there, tears rolling down her cheeks, staring out into the darkened crowd, knowing her father was there, watching.

Then, as the final note faded, the silence was broken by slow, hesitant applause. It started with one person, then another, until the entire stadium erupted into cheers. The fans understood. They had felt her pain, and they were with her.

Y/N didn’t move. Her eyes were locked on the figure of her father sitting in the front row. His face was cold, unfeeling, as if her words hadn’t touched him at all. And in that moment, she knew—he would never change. He would never let her be free.

As the rest of NewJeans rushed onto the stage to comfort her, Y/N felt her father’s presence like a dark cloud looming over her. Her members hugged her tightly, whispering apologies, telling her they were there for her now. But Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of dread.

“I’m so sorry,” Minji whispered, holding Y/N’s shaking form. “We didn’t know… We didn’t understand.”

“We should’ve seen it,” Hanni added, her voice thick with guilt. “You didn’t have to go through this alone.”

Y/N’s tears fell faster, but she couldn’t bring herself to respond. Her father’s eyes bored into her from across the stage, and she knew this wasn’t over. It wasn’t up to her anymore.

Suddenly, a figure began moving toward the stage. It was her father, pushing his way through the crowd, his face stone-cold with fury. The members of NewJeans noticed him at the same time, their protectiveness flaring up as they closed in around Y/N.

“What does he want?” Danielle asked, her voice trembling with anger.

Y/N didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She just stood there, frozen in place, as her father reached the edge of the stage and motioned for her to come down. His hand gestured sharply, a silent command.

“Y/N…” Minji started, her voice full of concern.

But Y/N knew she had no choice. She wiped her tears and stepped back from her groupmates, avoiding their eyes as she walked toward the stairs. The crowd’s cheers faded as confusion spread through the arena.

“Where is she going?” Hyein whispered, panic creeping into her voice.

Her father grabbed her arm as soon as she reached him, pulling her away from the stage. The grip was tight, unforgiving. Y/N winced but didn’t fight back. She was too drained, too scared. Her dream was slipping away before her eyes, and there was nothing she could do.

“No,” Minji said firmly, stepping forward. “She doesn’t have to go with you.”

But Y/N’s father shot them a cold glare. “This is none of your business. She’s my daughter. And she’s done with this ridiculous idol nonsense.”

Danielle’s fists clenched in anger. “You can’t do that to her. She’s not your puppet.”

Y/N shook her head slightly, signaling to her members that it was no use. This was her reality. Her father’s control over her life was too strong, and no matter how much they cared for her now, it wasn’t enough to change that.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m so sorry…”

Minji, Hanni, Danielle, Hyein and Haerin stood helplessly as Y/N was led away, her figure disappearing into the crowd. The fans, confused and heartbroken, watched as the youngest member of NewJeans was taken from the stage, her future with the group slipping away with every step.

As the doors to the backstage area closed behind her, Y/N felt her father’s control settling over her once again. The dream she had worked so hard for, the friendships she had finally started to build—it was all slipping through her fingers.

She had sung her truth. She had shown the world who she really was.

But it wasn’t enough.

Her father’s voice was low and cold as they left the venue. “That’s it. You’re done with this idol nonsense. Tomorrow, we’ll start making plans for your future. A real future.”

Y/N didn’t respond. She had nothing left to say.

As the car drove away from the arena, leaving the lights and cheers behind, Y/N stared out the window, her heart heavy with the realization that her dream was over.

She was no longer a part of NewJeans.

And in that cold night, she knew she would never be happier than ever again.

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luvrodite · 1 day

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RO'S KINKTOBER 2024

welcome to my second kinktober event!!! last year was so much fun and i hope you enjoy this one even more!!

warnings. please mind the individual warnings on each fic and bear in mind that you are responsible for your own media consumption. if you don’t like something, don’t read it! if you feel as though something is missing a tag, please let me know!

happy reading!

ⓘ minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact, you will be blocked!

ᯓ★ ONE. OCTOBER 1 | FUCK OR DIE

GOT ME CALLING OUT FOR HELP (S-O-S)

in retrospect, it was only a matter of time before you got hit. you should consider yourself lucky — there are worse fates than being fucked like your life depends on it. (it’s gotham. of course it does) or: you get hit and jason deals with the fallout

content warnings. f!reader, dubious consent due to intoxication, chemical aphrodisiac, established relationship, dry humping, penetrative text, begging, unprotected sex, creampie. more tags to come

ᯓ★ TWO. OCTOBER 5 | COCKWARMING

SIT STILL, LOOK PRETTY

jason doesn’t know what’s come over you, but he’s going to finish this chapter. then, if you’re good – and only then, he’ll make you cum.

content warnings. f!reader, established relationship, dominant jason. more tags to come

ᯓ★ THREE. OCTOBER 12 | MASK KINK

HUNT YOU DOWN, EAT YOU ALIVE

"did no one ever tell you not to walk around at night by yourself? it’s not safe around these parts." the only problem with his warning is – he looks like the not safe in question.

content warnings. f!reader, established relationship, predator/prey scene, public sex. more tags to come

ᯓ★ FOUR. OCTOBER 19 | INFIDELITY

SAY YOU GOT SOMEBODY, I'LL SAY, 'I GOT SOMEONE TOO'

he's patient. he knows how to play the long game, he's done it before. a new boyfriend is a hitch. that's all it is. he's always been a good problem solver.

content warnings. f!reader, cheating, obsessive jason todd. more tags to come

ᯓ★ FIVE. OCTOBER 26 | VIBRATOR

WHAT'S UP, BULLET?

in retrospect, it had been wishful thinking for you to hope your boyfriend wouldn't find out about the toy you kept hidden in a box beneath your bed. you just hadn't expected this reaction.

content warnings. f!reader, use of vibrator, minor overstim, cunnilingus, fingering. more tags to come

ᯓ★ OCTOBER 31 | SUCCUBUS

EXORCISM...

jason knows a thing or two about bad dreams, but the pretty thing that's been haunting his nights couldn't possibly be so bad, right?

...SEE YOU IN YOUR DREAMS!

content warnings. f!reader, dubious consent, monsterfucking, succubus reader. more tags to come

ⓘ a reminder that you alone are responsible for your media consumption. if you don’t like something, don’t read it!

#divider by inklore #jasonsmirrorball #kinktober 2024 #jay my heart #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd smut #jason todd imagine #x reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic

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painted-flag · 2 days

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OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - Aemond Targaryen

Chapter 5: The Young Elf

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 3.1k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ you work to recover from the previous night of celebration and meet a new patient in the sick hall.

Your vision was blurry upon opening your eyes. You felt your brain being pounded within your skull and your body ached. You let out a soft whine and rolled over in your bed, the soft sheets offering little comfort. The room was still fairly dark, with only a few candles lit. The memories of the night prior were hazy. You remember going to the party, but soon after your second drink, it all became incomprehensible. It was all a haze of music, candlelight, and dance.

It must have taken you an hour to will yourself out of bed, the only motivation being a pitcher of water that was placed all the way in the living space. It had forced you to get out of bed all so you could quench your thirst. You found yourself sitting on one of the couches, nursing a cup of water when Amara and Liriel skipped into the room.

They wore happy faces and presented no visible signs of wear from the party. It was as if they did not drink and dance heavily, but rather got a full night of rest. It was likely due to their experience - who knows how many times they had done that in their lives.

“Good morrow, dear friend.” Amara sang happily while opening the curtains to your room. The light from torches and fireflies outside - which happened to be surprisingly bright - invaded your room. You could do nothing but grunt in response and hold a hand out to block the light from your eyes.

“Well, you are taking it surprisingly better than I thought,” Liriel stated as she placed a tray of food on the table, “For the amount that you drank, I was sure you would be on the brink of death.”

“Really?” You responded with a thick coat of sarcasm. It felt like you were dead already. You reached out and grabbed a slice of bread. It was an elvish bread and you had come to deeply love them over your stay. The emptiness in your stomach hurt and you were glad to eat.

“Get some food in you and you’ll be better. You’re the talk of the castle today.” At Amara’s words, you dropped the piece of bread and looked at her with alertness in your eyes.

“Please tell me I did not do anything stupid or embarrassing.” You crossed your fingers in a silent prayer. It would be awful if you had done anything bad, as your actions may be taken to represent all humans. You did not want to carry the weight of the image of humanity in front of such esteemed beings.

“Not bad, on the contrary. Everyone is praising your ability to handle elven wine. It is an impressive feat.” Amara reassured you.

You raised one brow before gesturing to your slumped body, “Does this look like someone who is handling it well?”

“Oh, be thankful they are speaking highly of you.” Liriel laughed as she began to look through your wardrobe.

“I’d much rather have my work praised, than my ability to handle my cups.” You reasoned as you ate a few more pieces of fruit. Amara had gone to your vanity to select jewelry.

“Then you best get ready for the day.” Liriel turned around with a dress in her grasp and laid it out on the settee in front of you. Your eyes trailed over the light sage fabric. It had a silk underside with some sort of tulle layering on top. It looked like the dress you had worn on your first day there, but a much better colour. You gave Liriel a gracious smile at her selection and rose to your feet to change.

You had hoped to gain your bearings before leaving your room. However, after leaving, you had only just begun to feel better. The pounding in your head had subsided, but the aches in your joints from the hours of dancing still affected you. Your footsteps echoed across the stone hall as two guards escorted you through the caste. Before your morning rounds with the patients, you had to pick up some books from the library that you found the other day. The guards opened the doors and allowed you to enter without their presence.

You were so wrapped up in your task and struggling to recover from your night that you failed to notice the figure sitting at one of the tables, flipping through a large ornate book. You walked past them while rubbing your eyes. Once at the shelf you needed, you grabbed the three books and stacked them in your arms. Their weight felt heavier than you expected, but you recovered easily and moved to turn back. Your gaze swept across the wide-ranging room before it settled on a body in a seat. His back was to you and facing the entrance door.

His long silver hair draped pin straight down his back and you could see the top half tied up. A familiar strap of leather banded around his head, which you knew belonged to his eyepatch. His back was broad and he had on a leather tunic dyed a rich dark green. His sword was strapped to his side and rested on the bench with him. You cursed yourself for having such luck. Out of all of the libraries in this castle, Aemond had to choose the one that happened to be right next to your study. Of course your luck would be so rotten.

You took in a breath. Perhaps you could quietly make your way out of the library. You did not wish to disturb the king in whatever task he was enraptured with. Your hold on the books tightened as you moved to swiftly and quietly vacate the area. You passed by him with your gaze down on the floor.

Lately, however, your victories seemed to be short-lived.

“Do you think you are here to drink your weight in wine?” His smooth voice drawled out right as you had managed to reach up for the door handle. Your fingers squeezed the air in a desperate attempt to calm yourself. You spun on your heels, only to regret it immediately by the temporary loss of vision. The ache in your head returned. Aemond sat a few metres in front of you. He was staring down at the pages of parchment below him. His agile fingers swept at the page and turned it.

“No, your grace. I was simply being cordial, having been invited to it by his grace Prince Ageon.” You defended. It was true, Aegon extended a branch your way and you decided to seize it. You had not planned to drink, but you were an incredibly curious person and succumbed to the curiosity of what their wine tasted like.

“It is not a surprise Aegon would do that. Again, do not forget the task set forth on you.” Aemond had not bothered to spare you a single glance yet. His focus largely was on the book at his table.

The ache in your head worsened and you wanted nothing but to escape, but you knew you had to be cordial to the king, “I am thankful for this opportunity and take it seriously. I will be here for a year, so I thought it best to forge friendships.” Your response seemed to elicit a dry chuckle from the elf.

“Friends with…” He finally looked at you, piercing you with the intensity of his eye, “your kind? You are nothing more than an oddity to them right now, a silly little human way in over her head. As soon as they are bored of you, you will be nothing again. They have forgotten the threats your kind poses.”

It was likely the effects of your aching body that caused you to stick up just slightly for yourself, “If I am nothing but a silly little human in over her head, what threat do I truly pose, your grace?” While your words had been aggressive, you coated them in the most flattering voice you could muster; the call of an innocent animal hiding their violence.

Aemond regarded you for a moment as you stood there. You adjusted the weight of the books in your hands. He still was giving you a look that deeply unsettled you. You felt like a bug under his gaze, though you knew he would not treat you as gently as Helaena does to her insects. Aemond would not hesitate to squash you under his foot.

“All humans are a threat.” His voice came out strained, edged with spite and some other unheard charge akin to a lament. You stood strong against the battering waves of his blue-eyed stare; the oceans within his iris in constant turbulence. You had no recourse for his words and could not choose a path to take. To your great relief, tinged with an ounce of disappointment, Aemond appeared unwilling to speak further. His attention went back to the book in front of him and you took that as an opportunity to leave.

Why, out of all the libraries in this castle, did he choose the one by your work?

His figure consumed your mind as you walked a short distance to the laboratory you shared with Daeron. Aemond was, in some ways, a walking contradiction to the stories you grew up with. There was truth in the mutterings of his immoral attitude and penchant for aggression. Yet, you had not seen any physical aggression so talked about. His paragon of brutality was unseen.

Aemond was calm and calculating, his refrain from violence you had seen so far instilled a greater fear within. If he was like the stories - quick to barbarity - you could count on that predictability. It would be comforting in a sense, to place your bet on wanton aggression. Men, regardless of human or elf, could be counted on for that predictable nature.

However, he had not shown you his hand in whatever game he was playing. In Aemond’s cunning sense, there was no predictability. It frightened you, to be at the mercy of nothing short of an enigma. You could not place a bet on what he will do and what he is capable of. Sure, you can rely on the stories, but they have already proven to ring with some semblance of inaccuracy. You began to doubt even your own memory.

In your contemplation, you had dropped the books off in the laboratory and swung into the sick hall to make your rounds with the patients. You carried your notebook with you, along with a fitted bag at your waist to carry any small utility item that could be needed to help the sick elves. You had realized that elf physiology is surprisingly much like humans - minus the ability to live for multiple millenniums.

You had begun your move through the rows of countless beds. At each one, you sat with the elf and recorded their symptoms to keep track of their progression. To the ones you were able to, you administered some pain relief. Unfortunately, for those who had been sick for long, no type of pain relief would do them any good.

In your rounds, you moved to a bed with a new patient. It was a young elf. Though likely centuries old, she appeared as a child. Her hair was as golden as the light of the lanterns in the room, but oily from the relentless sweat caused by a fever. Her skin showed obvious signs of taint progression. Its glass-like appearance was underscored by intermingling cracks. Dark purple, near black, tint washed over the skin, with some areas more concentrated than others giving the appearance of bruises.

She was the youngest you had seen in your time here.

Something in you never even thought about the possibility of younger elves getting it. That was not a place your mind wandered to and you had gotten used to treating the older elves. Your heart ached at such a youthful being having their life slowly drained.

You moved towards the bed to see her, “Hello,” You introduced yourself before standing next to her laying form, “I have not been granted the pleasure of meeting you yet.” You kept your voice kind and cheerful to ease the emotions of the young elf. The little girl slowly turned her head in your direction. Despite her weakened state, the girl looked cheerful.

“I’m Lyra,” She paused to cough, “You’re a human.” Lyra’s voice was gentle, with notes that sounded like windchimes on a calm day.

“Yes, I am. I’m here to help.” You sat at the edge of the bed and reached out for a bowl of water and a cloth. You moved the rag through the water and got rid of the excess water. The back of your hand rested on her forehead. Lyra was burning up. You laid the cloth down where your hand had been and she let out a breathless sigh of relief.

“You look like an angel.” Lyra’s words were covered in the haze of a fever, but you took them to heart. This whole time, being surrounded by naturally beautiful beings, you had begun to feel worse about your appearance. There was something so pure and true when the words came from such an innocent child.

“That is kind, especially from a girl as pretty as you.” You watched as the corners of Lyra’s mouth rose faintly. She was in obvious pain, but taking it with graceful strength.

“I’m going to die, aren’t I?” Her question was so abrupt that it halted your movements as you tended to adjust the blanket over her. You paused, unsure of how to handle the situation. With all of your other patients, they understood their time was limited. The taint only spread to bodies through openings and you wondered what could have happened for a little elf such as Lyra to be infected.

“I and the other healers are working towards a cure, you need not worry, darling.” While not a direct answer, it was sufficient enough to get Lyra to rest her head back down against her pillow and close her eyes. You backed away to allow her to sleep and went about aiding the other sick elves.

During your rounds, your eyes kept wandering back to Lyra’s form. You were plagued with an even heavier burden. Your goal had been clear for many years, to find a cure. However, there was always an air of impersonality in your work. While the driving force had been to help people and carry on your father’s work, your motivation was still disconnected. The taint - other than destroying the lands of your kingdom - had never deeply affected you personally.

With Lyra, you felt perhaps the same driving force your father did. He worked to help, but mainly to make sure you had a future. You saw that same sense of need to safeguard that future when looking into Lyra’s eyes. While old from a human perspective, she was a young elf who had barely begun her life. Your father wanted a future for you, you wish to provide the same for her.

After a few hours of menial tasks in upkeep for the patients, you found yourself in the laboratory. In your hands was a simple vial, lilac and gleaming with specs of light. It was a newer version of your previous concoction that proved to be of little success. There was a hope - in fiddling with the ratios of ingredients - that it could be more effective than the last.

You looked down upon a sample of taint kept in a glass case. It was a bundle of flowers and weeds that had lost their colour of life, covered in the black mould and goo so familiar. You tilted the vial in your hand and allowed a few drops to spill upon the sample. You took a step back and watched as nothing happened. Your eyebrows furrowed.

You were overcome with frustration and anger. The events of your stay, your inability to make progress, and the new added weight of the reality of lives on your shoulders caused you to boil over. You let out a grunt and slammed your firsts on the table.

Just as you expressed your anger, Daeron strolled into the room. He saw your actions and raised his hands in feigned surrender.

“Surely the table did not deserve such violence,” He joked. You glanced up at him and felt the ache in your hands from striking the wood so fiercely. You rubbed your knuckles and could see some skin was scratched off, but not enough to require any special attention.

“I tried messing with the ratios of that last experiment. It did not make it any better, on the contrary.” You voiced.

Daeron walked to where you stood and picked up the vial. He inspected it for a moment. “You tried, that is what matters. If it's any consolation, none of mine have been as successful as yours was.” He patted you on the shoulder and you sent him a look of appreciation.

“Thank you, but I think I am going to spend the day doing more research.” You wanted to leave the laboratory. The walls felt like they were closing in on you and you could not bear to look at any more ingredients, vials, or damned samples of tainted nature. It was a curse, a plague on you.

Daeron spoke, “Go on, I have some of my ideas to work on.” You backed away from the table and turned to your right to leave the room. Your hand gripped the wrought iron door handle with extra strength as you yanked it open and found yourself in the ever-familiar hallway.

Despite being given the limited freedom of your room, laboratory, library, and sick hall, this place began to feel more and more like a prison. Your adventure into another area of the castle last night to attend the party was allowed, but you doubted your freedom could extend beyond that.

You felt guilty, for thinking so negatively about a truly once-in-a-lifetime experience, but the whole castle felt like a gilded cage. It was beautiful, there was no denying that. This kingdom, with its connection to nature and elevated lifestyle, was beyond what you could dream of and served as a trap for you. On the one hand, you relished in the good parts, but on the other, you knew this would never be a home.

You would never belong here. Your humanness, the mortality that came with it, will only be nothing but a blink in time for these people and their kingdom. Unless you found a cure, there would be nothing left but the faint memories of your form walking down these halls. Eventually, it would be lost to the annals of time.

How fickle a human life was when compared to the immortality of nature.

Chapter 6: A Snake in the Garden Preview

Like a cloud blocking the sun, a body stood just behind your kneeled figure and blocked the light from the lanterns strung above. You ceased yourself from cutting a leaf from a plant and turned around. An elf stood, his eyes piercing you with simmering hatred. You recognized him from just a few short days prior. It was the same elf that had been walking beside Aemond when you passed him in the hall. His skin looked sunkissed, despite there being little sun that actually penetrated through the canopy of trees. His dark hair matched the darkness of the deep forest beyond the settled lands.

He was altogether the embodiment of the elvish characteristic of beauty, but there was something wrong about the energy he gave off; it was almost predatorial.

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#hotd imagine #hotd fanfiction #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #elf #dark elf #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction

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sol-kha-ne-lubri-if · 2 days

Note

ros' reaction to mc having a hickey on their neck only to find out it's a mosquito bite later on?

Dear God you've been in inbox purgatory for a long while I'm so sorry, anyways, I'm gonna assume this is where they're crushing on you (not in a relationship) rather than the opposite lmao

AMBROSE ~

They've never been one to allow their siblings to deter them from doing whatever they please, so whyever would they stop now?

Especially when he has such a valid cause to it.

You see, it was your fault— that's what he was telling himself anyway. You just had to arrive in the dining hall with such a— such a blasphemous mark on your neck, proud for all to see, this should count as a slight against Baeurae! Fae knew you got around, that's not what was pissing them off about this whole thing...

It's the fact that you didn't approach them first of all.

Ambrose thought of himself as someone within your circle you could rely on, you know? Someone you— someone who could tell you which creatures were worth your time! You're an absolute beauty, everyone could be made aware of that just by looking at you! So why— why have you not told him a thing of what happened to lay such a— such an offensive thing on your skin?! What messy work it was as well, and how come there was only one? He really knew whoever had done it was a true loser then. If it were him, he would have pulled you in and not let you go until he could taste your—

"Mooooorning, you~" Ambrose hears Dottie chirp and he sits upright with his smile plastered upon his lips as though that was enough to prove to himself that he was perfectly fine with this— all of this. "Someone slept well, I denounce~!"

"If only!" you bemoan as you collapse into the chair and scratch at the mark on your neck. It's here that Ambrose sees just how upset you seemed to be, the way your body tenses so severely, the way your brow knits together, and you bury your nails into your own skin before Ambrose reaches out, making sure fae's hand was seen by you, and he carefully pulls your hand away before you scratch too deep. "My roommate— that dumbass— forgot to lock our godforsaken window the night before and a flupoflim wound up having gotten offensed by whatever dream they may have sensed of me and bit me right in the goddamn neck! I swear, I'm going to..."

"A flupoflim..." Ambrose repeats quietly to himself, biting his tongue to keep his smile from widening even further as he relaxes his hold on you far more, intertwining your fingers and slowly guiding you into his chest, his gloved thumb rubbing circles over the back of your palm as their cheek presses to your hair while you continue rambling about the pest in your room.

A small laugh shakes his chest, his eyes relaxing, half-listening to the way his sister plots with you on how to fume the flupoflims from the academy as he slowly raises your joint hands and drags his fingertips down from your palm to carefully brush against your pulsepoint.

"What a kerfuffle for my poor darling ditzy." Ambrose drawls, bring your wrist close to his face so he could press his lips to it, feeling the way your artificial heart beat inside. "Might I suggest a word of my own as remedy?"

Dottie ~

Dottie walks through the halls with her posse a few steps behind her, an idle smile on her expression as their voices carry through the grand halls, even though she had them step away from her so she could enjoy the peace and quiet to clear her thoughts. In moments as this, she would typically walk with you and your impecc-uliar companion. However, she doesn't know how much she can stand walking within your vicinity without wishing to slice at your neck and watch your good pour out like a fountain.

Maybe if she did that, the abomination on your neck would go away.

It was such a messy fucking job as well, it weren't even even, and you clearly didn't have that good a night if you were walking around with just one on your neck. If it were her, she would have mauled you for all to see! She would have tore at your neck until you'd have to be fixed up with stitches!

But no, apparently you decided you weren't good enough for her and you decided to go for some lowlife who clearly couldn't appreciate your beauty in the way she does—!

"—uite annoying, yeah." she's pulled out of her thoughts when she suddenly hears your voice around the corner, and she pauses, raising a brow as she hears your voice carried through the hall. "Maybe if you hadn't left the damn window open, I wouldn't be walking around with the bite of a flupoflim on my perfect skin! Do you even know just how itchy this fucking—!"

"It's a fly bite, calm down!"

"Of course YOU would be saying that, you're not the one who had gotten bitten by the damn thing— oh, Dottie?"

She had appeared around the corner with her books tucked below her chest and her hair gently blowing in nonexistent wind, before she strolls up to you with the air of majesty you came to know of (and expect) from her presence alone.

"There you are~ I was thinking of relaxing in the bathhouse whilst I set my books aside!" she chirps, stepping up to you and sliding a hand around your waist, pulling you close to her while she brushes her lips against your earlobe.

"Your friend is free to join us as well, if they so please~ In any case, I hear you have a flupoflim problem?"

She smoothly turns you and your companion around, allowing for said flupoflims to swoop in from the windows by her command to clean after the bodies their mistress had left behind, as well as all the ichorous organs that littered the floor.

She'd rather you not see such a distasteful sight~

Loriette Kei ~

"You've something there, I see." their face openly snarls at the sight of the offending mark on your neck, amidst the many other ones you allowed him to leave on you since it was his turn that day.

"I've a little something everywhere, if you couldn't tell." you respond dryly, feeling around your neck. He always mauled you, practically, as if he was trying to prove a point to his older sister and cousins. "You're not exactly the gentlest lover."

"Oh I can be gentle as a feather, you realize?" his strings envelop his body as his form shifts rapidly into a smaller one he was able to hop onto your shoulders with. "You don't give me many a reason to be gentle, is all. You're so... difficult sometimes, and by that, I mean any which time. Whatever you do or see that I may never think to be," their tail brushes against the bottom of your chin before they hop off your shoulder to sit on your lap, shifting back into his doll form to lean forward and pin you against the bed, a bit of their inky-black seeping through the cracks and running down his skin. "Is somehow always something you so readily use against me."

"I'm just looking out for whatever I deem to decree." you respond, your head resting back against the soft sheets of your dorm bed. You didn't often like sleeping in a bed that wasn't your own, after all, your bed was definitely the comfiest in the academy, and you were sure of that. "Now would you please tell me?"

"This," Loriette keeps himself hovered over your body while his strings reach forth to slowly wrap around your neck, the ends tickling against the mark he had seen earlier before they disappear, and his face is streaked with more of the void he kept inside himself.

"Oh, ugh. That." you roll your eyes and tilt your head to the window that allows you to look over sonder at the many bodies below your dorm. "My dormmate, Stesmi pray for them, didn't close the window before sleeping the night before, a flupoflim came and—"

Loriette Kei interrupted you by bursting out laughing, and rolling off and onto your bed, covering his face in one hand while his tail swished to and fro. A flupoflim... he had gotten jealous over one of those nasty little buggers.

"Hey, hey... forgive me, dearly, I weren't laughing at you per say, truly." he was quick to pull you close when he saw you were about to leave the bed, still chuckling over your pouty expression before burying his face into your neck.

"My... what am I to do with you, dear Alice?"

Lorelei Kei ~

"Oh that's a nasty piece of work, I see..."

She was the first person you thought to go to regarding your bite. Your companion had forgotten to close the window all the way last night before falling asleep and a flupoflim had entered and bit you since it... apparently didn't like your dream or something of that sort? Whatever, honestly. You wanted it gone, it was itching like a motherfucker.

"Right? I can hardly even remember what I were fucking dreaming about! I swear, the one time I decide to indulge myself and this is what happens!" you complain, moving your hair out of the way to allow her to get a better look at the bite you had received for daring to dream.

It wasn't even fucking worth it either, the dream wasn't even worth noting enough to remember.

"I've a salve if you wish to apply that. I'm terribly sorry for the flupoflims, I know I've squashed a good few against my neck for such a transgression before." she offers with a small frown, pulling a small bottle from her dress pocket before she tips it turvy against her fingers and a small bit drips out.

"You're an absolute darling, Lorelei Kei. Honestly, I'd adore for you to do this for me, thank you kindly..." you sigh, shivering when you feel her fingers massaging the bite on your neck. "You made this yourself then?"

"Mm... yes, yes I did." she responds, feeling her lips curl up a little as she carefully sits down before you, and she makes sure the salve is spread evenly along the bite. "It's a simple mixture, really. My noveur told me the importance of not relying all on my strings to heal... though that was more so because the way my strings heal is a bit grotesque. Not that I care."

"Why did you create a salve if you don't care then?"

She doesn't respond for a moment, lifting her hand once the salve was applied and blowing gentle air to the area to help it dry a little better, making you gulp.

"Because you might think my healing ways are grotesque."

Nadia ~

"You can't ignore me forever." you tell her firmly, watching as she continues to work at her desk, writing a letter to her kingdom's form of government in her room.

"Nadia, this is childish."

"No it isn't." she says simply, standing up from her desk and grabbing a bowl of fruits she hadn't yet touched before she tosses it in front of you, the spinning bowl filling her dorm with an unpleasant sound as it, miraculously, doesn't begin multiplying by the dozens or growing bigger. Then again, that was also likely because she was wearing her gloves.

"Yes it is— you're even responding like a child." you tell her with a small frown, tilting the bowl towards you to look at its contents before settling on a berry that had nearly fallen out. "Had I committed a slight against you once more? Add onto mine list of many that you refuse to tell me? Look, I'm well aware that my beauty's been known for rendering others speechless, but—"

"I am the one acting childish. I would like to keep acting childish."

Oh, you didn't expect her to just outright admit it. You watch as she sits down about a cushion away from you. "What are you—"

"That mark on your neck," he mentions, nodding her head towards you, making you lift a hand up to what you knew she was talking about. "It's... disgusting. I don't want to look at it. I want to be upset as I refuse to look at it. You are making me upset."

"Nadia, this is a mere—"

"I know what it is," they interrupt you, biting their tongue before sighing as he looks away. "But... please, just don't say anything, or I may die of mortification. I'm usually much better at controlling my own emotions. But that... that thing on your neck— I know what it is, rationally, but even knowing this, just the sight of it, the implication of what it could be, I'm sick of it."

You stare at her a moment, your lips quirking up as you realize why she isn't looking at you. She isn't actually mad... what she really is makes you pop the berry in your mouth, giving you an excuse to shut up.

"... Please, get rid of it...?"

"... I will, so long as you help me."

Noré ~

What on earth had been getting into her these days...

She found herself at your beck and call much more earnestly than they first believed themself to be, first of all. This wasn't anything new, they had done this with anyone and everyone that had passed by them that hallway.

What was getting to him now was that... thing, thing on your neck. It was terribly ugly. It didn't suit you. He would know what suits you and what doesn't, he's completely memorized the sort of style you adore so dearly.

He found himself glued to your side, hanging onto your every word as you speak, your hand repeatedly reaching up to rub at the spot he was eyeing and everytime you did, she felt the pit in her stomach grow wider and wider until it felt as though it would swallow her whole.

"Must you be so enamoured with whatever it is that has you recalling as you rub that?" it slips out of their mouth before they can even think to keep it inside. "You realize that I'm in your company, yes? How terribly rude of you to treat a ruler this way, I ought to try you for—"

"Treason?" you finish, shaking your head. You didn't believe him. Of course you didn't, they never gave you any reason to believe in his words, ever. "Alright, Mocking Turtle. Riddle me this—"

"I'm no hatter, but go on and riddle me what." he responds blandly, hands clenched around her own wrists behind their own back. "Riddle me how?"

"Lethargic eyes and weary bones, they try to rest yet nature would oppose," you reach up to rub the area again. "A draft to fill, the moon to shine, whatever could float decides offense to a dream of mine. Whatever does it do?"

"... Indeed, whatever does it do?"

"It bites you." you respond with a small groan. "Fucking windows and dormmates and... ugh, it's absolutely killing me."

"Oh, no, I don't believe it so." Noré responds from beside you. "For if it were truly killing you, you'd be but flesh and bone."

"You jest, but it truly feels as though the ichor were being—" you cut yourself off as you look to them again, the way they smile feels a bit more relaxed than before. "And what's suddenly got you in such a good mood?"

He blinks at your words, his eyes no longer smiling, though his lips stretch upwards a bit more. "Indeed, whatever does?" they hum, keeping step with you and linking your arms together, tugging you closer to their side as they do.

"Whatever, I suppose you've riddled me true."

#sol kha ne lubri #if #inbox asks #ask response #anon #ambrose hendrix #nadia #noré #loriette kei #lorelei kei #dottie hendrix

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howtotrainabraincell · 12 hours

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Greetings my fellow AC mutual!!!

Lately I have been reading all your canon posts here and may I say that I love them all. You have created amazing canons here. I'm feeling extra romantic so here's an idea: how would the Assassins, including Templars, feel on their wedding day? The before, during and after the wedding. You can choose all of them or a few of them.

Please and thank you 😊🙏 and have a wonderful day today.

Sure thing! This is a cute one!!

A/N: I may not have put it in each one, but they will respect their wife's wishes to not be intimate on their wedding night (whether it be fear or being exhausted from the festivities). But...I mean come on. Who wouldn't want to have a wedding night with any of them?

ALSO, there may be multiple parts to this bc there's A LOT I got going on in this mind of mine when it comes to this lot getting married...

Jacob Frye

Before:

You know this man will have his Rooks there lolll they'll be throwing the biggest loudest bash London has ever seen in honor of their Boss getting hitched. He just might make Greenie his best man (he teases the man to the ninth realm and back but they're good buddies for real).

Jacob takes this seriously. He's still his wonderfully goofy and chaotic self but he takes certain aspects of marriage more seriously. He wants her to know that he'll be good to her, he'll protect her with his life, and he'll love her even after he dies. He also takes setting up a home for her seriously. The man isn't for anything lavish and she isn't either (her cozy non-materialistic ways are something that majorly attracted Jacob to her - high key don't think he'd like somebody who was materialistic, as happiness is in life not things) but he wants to set up a nice little place for them to call 'home' together. A place where they can be together as husband and wife and hopefully have a handful of little rooks running around one day. A place that's theirs and theirs alone.

During:

He thinks she looks beautiful in her wedding dress (he bet she looks even better out of it tho...PFFT). He'll never admit to it, but his eyes began to sting at the sight of her - and of course he wasn't rubbing the tears from his eyes throughout the ceremony! He just had something in his eyes...

He's very genuine and sweet when he recites his wedding vows 'In sickness and in health, etc.' to you, both of you having decided to save the personal vows for each other privately. (Heads up Jacob cried when he read her letter of vows and promises to him, he couldn't believe how sweet it was. Man was legit sitting there thinking 'How'd I get such a wonderful wife?'). He genuinely cannot believe that he found a wife who loves and accepts him for him. Rest assured that any insecurities Jacob has before they marry will soon be gone because his wife loves him the way he's always deserved.

Once the marital vows are said and done, they move on to the exchange of rings...and that's when the tears start.

Jacob knows that she isn't materialistic and that she doesn't need a fancy ring to know that he loves her, but he thinks she deserves it, and he has just thing in mind. Something that compliments her eyes because they're one of his top favorite (and he has a lot lol) things about her. Something that reflects the joy in her eyes when she laughs, the smile crinkles she's developed from years of managing to laugh through her struggles, and the swirls of color. Jacob would definitely enlist the help of his big sister in finding a ring for his soon to be wife and does.she.come.through. When it comes time for the ring exchange, he's pleasantly surprised to find that she put just as much thought into his ring as he did hers.

Both are engraved with confessions of their love for one another and intricately designed to match the spouse they were made for.

After:

He would enjoy the celebration, and it would be planned and based off of how his wife feels about such celebrations. Jacob being a bit more extroverted is likely to enjoy socializing and having a big get together - and if his wife is the same way then great! But if she's more introverted and can only take so much he's whisking her away, so she doesn't get stressed out. I actually think that he would want to be alone with his new wife and not just for *wink wink* but he wants some alone time to just have a slow moment with her. He would enjoy the celebration his Rooks put together for them and she thinks it's so sweet that they went all out, but as we know Mr. Frye has a tendency to act rashly when he becomes impatient. Next thing you know, he's scooping his wife up without a care in the world and carrying her off with a grin five miles wide, her face the exact replica of a tomato as she clings to him, and the Rooks cheering them goodbye as Jacob carries her off.

If she's afraid of the wedding night activities this man is instantly comforting her assuring her that he doesn't expect anything, he would never hurt her, and he'll wait for her. If she's tired? He is too honestly (he does have a lot of energy, but I imagine when he's alone he just OOF crashes but doesn't want anyone to see it. I mean he does have a full-time job annoying Evie ofc lol what else are baby brothers for?) so cuddling and going to sleep together is just fine with him. But if she wants him - tired or not - he'll give her everything he's got and then some.

Do I need to go into Jacob's wedding night? I mean... it's Jacob. The man lives to serve and please. And please he does...

Bayek of Siwa (I included him bc he legit started it all technically a Hidden One but potato pitatoh)

Before: This man is joyful on his wedding day. He's so excited to marry her and spend their days together. Whether this is after his divorce from Aya or we're not going with cannon and it's his first marriage - this man wants to be a husband, he is husband material. He can't wait to pledge himself to her before the gods and dedicate his life to loving her. He can't wait for her to be his wife HOWEVER - If we're going with cannon he was rejected when he proposed to Aya, so he has some understandable hesitancy when he proposes to his love. Can you blame him? He really loved the one he proposed to the first time and got shot down poor guy. It's the second time he's proposed in this life, and he does not make the mistake of thinking that just because they're in love that she'll say yes. He made that mistake before, and it felt like a knife to the gut.

BUT - If we're going with head cannon... this time he found himself a woman who was ecstatic to be proposed to by him (and I mean literally ecstatic like she tackled him in happiness making him laugh his ass off before she showered him in kisses and said yes).

If sticking to cannon he is worried and afraid deep down to remarry. He loves her very much so much in fact he believes that he very well loves her even more than he loved Aya (which like WOW ya know what I'm saying?). But when he's around her all fears and worries are eased and he comes to his senses knowing that he would forever regret not spending the rest of his life with her, now that he's met her and has her in his life.

Headcannon wise he's still a bit scared as being a Medjay is stressful and a known profession in which one is likely to gain enemies (insert middle finger to members of the order of ancients). He worries about her being targeted but he knows that she can take care of herself (she'll make one hell of a Medjay's wife that's for sure LOL). He also fears that it would be selfish to marry her and put her in danger - but upon sharing this fear with her she quickly dismantled his fear. Whether they marry or do not marry, either way - she could possibly be targeted by his enemies, to this he agreed. Then she asserted that it would be better that they face their adversaries together with their love motivating them to eliminate all threats, than to face those who oppose them separately. To this he simply smiled and hugged her tightly melting into her embrace.

During: They didn't really have weddings in Ancient Egypt more so the signing of a binding marriage document, the woman moving into the man's home to live with him as his wife, and then it could/would be followed by a celebration. However...that is Egypt as a whole...not Siwa. Those of us who have seen this beautiful spot in Egypt where beloved Bayek is from, know that it's beautiful and lively (quite frankly a great place to start a family) and you just know that Bayek is from a community that loves him. They're going to throw him and his intended a celebration to end all celebrations.

Hepzefa ISN'T dead I.DON'T.CARE - he's absolutely Bayek's best man.

Bayek in his armor and her in a linen dress covered by a layer of sheer fabric with a lily in her hair, as they get married in the evening when it cools off, the sand unable to burn their feet and the sun unable to glare in their eyes so they can actually look at each other lol. Any fear he had is gone when he sees her at the end of the aisle. They meet each other at the end of the aisle and join arms to walk together toward Hepzefa (who OFC is marrying them obvs). They make their vows before the gods to love, cherish, respect, support and be honest with each other for as long they both live.

After:

Again, if we're sticking to cannon, I think that Bayek would move in with his new wife instead of her moving in with him. A new home and a fresh start with his new wife, is just what this man could use after his arduous journey.

Headcannon however they would move into their own place in Siwa together and work together to make their home everything they dreamed it could be. I HIGHLY believe that he would find a way to make a pond for her filled with water lilies (his nickname for her btw - she's his "beautiful lily").

After a night of dancing, laughter, feasting and sheer happiness they would go home together. They would end the night by sitting on the roof of their new home together watching the Oasis of Siwa from afar, bundled up tightly together in a blanket against the chill air of the Egyptian night. He would point out the different spots of Siwa from they sat, but mostly they would admire the beauty of the moon on the oasis not too far away. They might even go for a swim in the cool waters together, laughing and splashing each other. Tell.me.he doesn't sneak attack her from underwater lloollll. They'd spin around in the water easily with Bayek holding her against him and smiling as she gushes about how much she's enjoyed the day.

I don't think Bayek would make love to her on the banks of the oasis for their first time the man has romantic plans that he plans to woo her with lol. (Later on, in their marriage though...woo!) Rest assured that their first time will be sweet and romantic, he'll make her as comfortable as possible, with pillows everywhere and candlelight guiding their hands within the walls of their home.

Also like the idea of them traveling to Alexandria together and having their honeymoon there. Them exploring the Alexandrian Lighthouse together, the library (shortly before it BURNED DOWN DAMN YOU CAESER), horseback riding through the sand dunes and around the lush greenery near the Nile, going to the markets together and giggling about whatever it is that they find funny, sailing on the Nile together and fishing/gathering reeds for various projects, THEY WOULD CLIMB THE PYRAMIDS TOGETHER CHANGE.MY.MIND.

Evie Frye

Before: Their wedding isn't one that can be celebrated openly but they still have a celebration that is the epitome of love. The two women had both agreed to write their vows for one another and exchange them after the wedding, wanting to keep their promises to each other and words of love just between them.

They couldn't decide on names lol. Evie wanted her last name, and she wanted Evie's last name. But they quickly came up with a solution as they both have brothers. They decided to hyphenate their last names for some extra cover. Evie becomes Mrs. Frye-(L/N) and she becomes Mrs. (L/N)-Frye. That way no one would suspect them being married and if anyone ever asks, Evie married one of her (wife's) brothers and is her "sister-in-law" the same way Jacob is a stand in husband for Evie's wife and she is Evie's "sister-in-law". History will say that they were sisters in law hahaha.

But for real though tell me why they end up calling each other "Mrs" SO MUCH in private (Evie almost forgets that she's a Dame bc she gets called Missus *insert her last name* so much by her wife haha).

During:

Not able to shout their love from the rooftops unfortunately, the couple settles to have a very small and private ceremony. Jacob - who would NEVER breathe a word, Henry who's just happy to see them happy, Ned would probably be there and while Abberline would be SHOOK (I don't care if that word died out like 8 years ago lol it's funny) he would be pleased to know that they've found happiness together.

Tell me why I'm so damn sure that Jacob marries them (he would do that for his sister jokes, loving eye rolls from his big sister and all). They would either get married on the train not too far from the Red Lion where they would go afterward to celebrate, or in Henry's shop (his wedding gift would be lots of various flowers ranging from "everlasting love" to "trust and loyalty").

OR I do have a head cannon that they don't have any witnesses at all. They go up to rooftop facing the Thames and wait for sunrise together with their rings and a basket of goodies they both enjoy. When the sun begins to rise, they make their vows to each other tearfully and very sincerely, pledging the rest of their lives to each other and promising to always be together and love one another. They do this so that they can start the new day together as wives and say what they truly want to one another without an audience. It'll even become tradition years later that they both stay up until sunrise to celebrate their anniversary as the years go on, just the two of them

After:

They do their own wedding presents, and the new Mrs. Frye can't help but giggle at Evie's reaction when she gives her the special edition of her favorite book. I think we can all imagine how ecstatic the loveable bookworm that is Dame Evie Frye would be.

When Evie reads the vows, her new wife has written for her she boo hoos too lol. She can't believe that she's lucky enough to have married such a sweet and wonderful woman. Especially when she thought she would never marry and dedicate her entire life to the Creed.

Something fun the two women embark on together is setting up their home together. Not having been able to have had an open wedding they didn't have wedding showers or receive the traditional wedding gifts; they pick out each piece of their new home together! With how in sync, they are together there is hardly anything they disagree on (unless its Evie's wife trying to get her to stop working herself almost to death...by smooching her to the point where Evie looks like a laughing tomato haha) and their home comes together wonderfully. Everything in their home cozy and a reminder of their love.

It takes Evie a little bit before she finally lets go of the fear that getting married to her love, was nothing more than a wonderful dream. But each morning when she wakes up and either sees her wife next to her sleeping safe and sound, or she wakes to beautiful flowers followed by Mrs. Frye trailing in quietly with a cup of morning tea for her still sleepy wife. Her wife can rest assured that Dame Evie Frye will love her for the rest of their lives.

Altair Ibn La' Ahad

Before: He never thought he would marry or fall in love the way he's fallen in love with her. He's a naturally a confident man, so there's no doubt in his mind that he wants to be her husband and spend the rest of his life with her. There's no doubt...but there is worry. He worries about being a good husband to her in terms of giving her a safe stable home due to being an assassin and he knows that he can be...emotionally stunted, but he plans to correct that and never leave her wondering if he loves her. Because he does with his whole being. After all, if she can help pull him out of his younger arrogant ways, by gently and patiently telling him why he's wrong without criticizing him, then she can do anything.

During: His worries are vanquished when he sees her. He immediately knows that come what may, they'll be alright so long as they're together. He can't stop looking at her during the wedding, making her blush as he smiles at her (surprising the hell out of Malik lol bc the 'tHe nOvICe cAn SmILe?') As they take their vows a few cheeky looks are given here and there the pair obviously checking each other out, (insert Malik gagging like a goof). Altair can't get over how she looks like an otherworldly being with her beauty unmatched by anyone or anything. She can't get over how handsome and gallant he looks in his robes, with his hood down (GASP), his sword at his side as his thumbs rub the backs of her hands. (But with the hood thing he's never had anything to hide, he just wants to show his face and let everyone know that he's marrying her and that he's proud to be her husband. He's a very proud husband haha). When they seal their new union with a kiss, he bends down to pick her up and hold her tightly making her laugh. They both can't stop smiling, completely and utterly happy and excited to start the rest of their life together.

After: He would bring her jasmine and a few Damasks roses - they're nowhere near as beautiful as he thinks she is but the sweetness of each flower reminds him of her - in a neatly gathered bushel and loves the smile it brings to her face. He doesn't care about having a wedding night, he just wants to be with his wife and love on her in whatever manner she wishes. Sitting there and watching the stars over Masyaf or Jerusalem (depending on when/where they get married) If she wants to lay there with him and relax, he's happy to hold her and do just that. But if she wants him to take her...her mind will be blown at just how loving her new husband can be...

Ratonhnhake:ton/Connor Kenway

Before: He's worried about being a good husband. Very worried. He wants to be a wonderful husband to her, as wonderful as she is to him. He loves her with everything he has of course and would defend her with his life. But he was so focused on his mission to take the Templar order down, to get justice for his mother, so focused on his rage...that despite how much he loves her, he wonders if he can pull himself out of the dark mindset that he was in for so long to treat her the way she deserves. He will try but he still worries. He doesn't want to be angry (never at her keep in mind - about life in general) his entire life. Her kisses and presence helps though, more than she'll ever understand. He wants to be there for her as much as she's been there for him, through thick and thin, no matter what.

During: Feel like there would be two weddings for the couple. A colonial one (planned by the Homestead for the happy couple) and a traditional Mohawk wedding (planned by the Clan mother who is so excited to see him getting married), a wedding to honor both his and her culture. He stands like a statue clasping his hands in front of him patiently, eager, and nervously until he sees her. Cheesy as it is... the sight of her brings him peace. He can't even wait for her to make it to the altar, making his way to her down the aisle in a few long strides to meet her with a smile. They walk down the aisle together arm in arm and hands intertwined, unable to contain their excitement.

After: He can't stop staring at his wedding ring and smiling at it. Typically, the Mohawk people did not exchange wedding rings until modern times, but he loves his and what it represents. The eternal love and union he and his wife will share. His face hurts from smiling so much, but he doesn't mind it a bit. Now as for the wedding night... I think he would be very shy at first. Terrified of hurting her because he's very aware of the fact that he's massive and intimidates a lot of people. He would never do that to her. Being with her is honestly really enough for him, the emotional intimacy the two share is what made him so sure about making her his wife. The newlyweds would work their way up into sex slowly, getting a little closer each time and accompanied by lots of reassurance and soft laughter. And when they finally got it, the assassin and his wife had never felt more complete in their lives. He makes love in plenty of other ways though - mostly through his thoughtfulness and observation which leads to anticipation. He always knows what she needs before she even asks and he's always happy to help.

Their mornings start off with him usually waking first and realizing that marrying her wasn't a dream. He'll watch her sleeping peacefully in his arms, and then inspect their fingers where their wedding bands lie and realize that it's real. They got married. He's married to this wonderful woman. She's, his wife. Before he can begin to spiral in excitement he leans down and scoops her closer to him, burying his face in her neck which makes her laugh softly.

Venturing outside together to enjoy nature and do various outdoor activities, playful banter and pairing up to hunt together and scavenge. He'll look over and see her helping him with a fresh kill or scavenging other items and become overwhelmed with the desire to kiss her out of nowhere. Needless to say, lots of love and laughter fills the lives of Ratonhnhake:ton and his wife.

Henry Green/Jayadeep Mir

Before: He's happy and so ready to be her husband. He's admitted to himself that he's liked her from their first meeting, but he's loved her almost as long (which is not long at all because he fell for her quick). I don't know why but I can imagine that Jacob might try to do the whole "you know how the wedding night works right?" talk with him much to Henry's horror haha. He gently assures the younger Frye that he does in fact know what to do on his wedding night with his wife, if she'll have him. Don't worry though! The man is from India the birthplace of Kama Sutra...he knows what to do. Trust him.

During: Whether she wears the usual white dress or chooses to honor his culture by wearing traditional Indian bridal clothes, this man will be emotional. Guaranteed his eyes will begin to water when he sees how beautiful the woman he loves is, walking down the aisle to him. When they take each other's hands, he can't help the goosebumps of excitement he gets thinking about how lucky he feels to be marrying such a woman. He'll never understand how he got her to agree to marry him (despite being charming have a head cannon that his charm goes out the window when it comes to proposing to her lol he was so nervous that she would say no!) but he'll never forsake her or take her for granted. Perish the thought!

After: Get ready for a very fun honeymoon! Traveling together and studying each place you go, learning fun facts and the history behind the cultures. I think he would be so excited to show her around where he grew up and tell her stories (the happier ones) from his childhood. I also think that Mr. Green would be eager to prove that his intelligence is more than just the book variety...

Shay Patrick Cormac

Before: He's excited. But also, nervous. So nervous. He's aware that the type of life he leads isn't the safest or the most routine/regular thing a man can do. But you can bet that he'll be damned if he doesn't give his all to be a good husband to her. A worry that runs through his mind is dying at sea on the Morrigan and leaving her widowed and alone. He noticeably goes on less voyages after they marry only going when it's necessary. Depending on when they get married, he may still be traveling around on Templar/Shay way business - but either way whether he's close to retirement or still working, he wants to settle down with her. He plans to create a nice home for her, take care of her, love her, and have a handful of beautiful babies that he'll love almost as much as he loves her.

During: The moment he lifts her veil from her face he can't take his eyes off of her. Literally. The only time he does is to briefly and gently slide the ring onto her finger, otherwise he's smiling and staring at her like a lovesick puppy lol. He's so busy admiring his bride that Haytham with a smirk on his face gently clears his throat reminding Shay that the time to seal his new union has come. When the Irish captain realizes what the Grandmaster is saying the man blushes in slight embarrassment, and you bet he turns right around and kisses his new wife. The pair laughs as those invited applaud in celebration, but they're in their own world together.

After: After the wedding he'll take her to his home (read: their home that he hopes she loves) in New York so they can be alone together, in more ways than one. Their home will definitely know what love is when they're there together. He's a go go go kind of man as we've all seen but he's slow and gentle with her and if she finds herself too tired to celebrate in a more intimate way, she better get ready for the best cuddle session of her life. However, if she does find herself in need of her husband...let's just say that he's Captain of more than the Morrigan... Tell me why the idea of him untying his wife's corset is very erotic... Once they start married life together this man is taking her on the Morrigan (if she wants to go that is if not, he has plenty of other fun things in mind...) and sailing her to wherever she wants to go. I imagine she would choose Ireland to learn about where her husband's family came from, and Shay would love showing her around his place of origin.

Haytham Kenway

Before: He's composed in public ever the austere Grandmaster.... but a mess in private. He can't stop fidgeting with his cravat, pulling at his sleeves, straightening his coat. He looks absolutely handsome, but he knows that he won't hold a candle to his angel of a wife - who he DEFINITELY peeked at lol. You telling me this man didn't try to go to talk to her before the wedding because he missed her, and he doesn't stop short by the crack in the door, dumbfounded by how beautiful she looks? His face will be redder than his vest. With how in love with her he is, he feels less the confident Templar, and more so a little boy in very deep love. He's so happy that he gets to marry his love and spend his life with her, just the sight of her alone helps him to calm down and realize: he's marrying the love of his life.

During:

When he sees her coming down the aisle to him, he forgets how to breathe for a moment. The majority of the ceremony is spent exchanging loving gazes, gentle hand squeezes and him trying not to pass out. She notices how flustered he seems and reaches up to gently cup his face for no one's benefit but his. Needless to say, it helps to calm him significantly.

He can't believe how beautiful she is and how he got her to agree to marry him. Haytham doesn't say it in his vows, but he'll give her the world and more and always take care of her. With this man I have a feeling that actions speak louder than words (I mean did you see how he got rizzed by Ziio LOL everyone thought HE would woo HER, but she BAMBOOZLED him). He may not speak what he's feeling, and she may have to play fill in the blanks sometimes when he becomes overwhelmed by his emotions (cue him being very grateful for her patience), but with her complete agreement he's more than happy to show her in a deep kiss or something a bit more husbandly...

When they're pronounced husband and wife he steps forward while the officiant is still speaking and kisses her with abandon. The Grandmaster is thrown out the window for the moment and the lovestruck man comes out much to his new wife's delight. He embraces her tightly never wanting to let her go and his arms sweep her up in quick spin that makes her squeak in laughter as his own grin spreads across his face.

He would spoil.her.rotten come the wedding and wedding presents.

After:

The celebration would be a grand one and last long into the night. Shay swears upon the Morrigan that he'll knock Hickey's lights out if he gets pissed and starts to cause a ruckus LOOOLL. Haytham is a good dancer, but he doesn't like to make a spectacle of himself, for his new bride however he'll get out there and dance with her feeling absolute contentment in knowing that of all the men in the room that could have her in their arms he has her instead. He enjoys watching her have fun, and every time she finds him in the room and smiles at him while she's dancing, the man swears to the gods that his heart starts to race. You can definitely bet that his face stays a decent shade of red for the majority of the ceremony and party.

The party doesn't end when she comes to him and asks if he's ready to retire for the night, taking his hand when he agrees and pulling him toward the stairs. This man's face is ON FIRE as they go up the stairs together because everyone knows what they're going up there to do and that damn Irish Captain won't stop smirking at him -

He'll help her undress not solely for the purpose of making love to her, but because he wants to help her get comfortable (her beautiful form in front of him in nothing but a chemise is definitely motivation too...). Making her comfortable is his number one priority whether they make love that night or not. Making sure the curtains are drawn so the sunlight won't bother her in the morning, the fire is lit to keep her warm (I head cannon them getting married in winter for some reason... I mean they can keep each other warm during the colder months), making sure she has water on her bedside chamber.

They lay together after the long night holding each other comfortably softly speaking about how wonderful everything was. They may discuss the Order if she's curious about it and she'll make goo goo eyes at him as he speaks so passionately about it, with him blushing as she looks at him so lovingly. They may discuss books they've been reading together (tell me Haytham wouldn't have a private little book club for just him and his wife I DARE YOU). Things between them may become charged when they hold each other's gaze for too long... and then he'll really make her Mrs. Kenway...

NOTE: I KNOW I DIDN'T DO SEVERAL CHARACTERS IN THIS POST I'M SORRY OKAY. Seriously though some characters came easier than others - but there will in fact be a part 2.

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lousypotatoes · 2 days

Text

I've Got A Smile On My Face

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9 Pt. 10 Pt. 11

Song Recommendation:

Always - Irving Berlin

Warning! This chapter contains depictions of panic attacks, and graphic violence! If this triggers you or makes you uncomfy in any way shape or form, please read with caution.

90 years ago...

It had been six months since Alastor kissed Y/N on her front porch. As expected, the two of them were now an item.

During the span of those six months, everything was absolutely perfect. The flower shop was thriving, Alastor's radio show was more popular than ever, Jasper didn't come by the shop since their interaction, and most importantly, Alastor and Y/N were so very much in love, Y/N felt that she fell more in love with him every time she saw him.

The only thing she didn't like about their relationship was the big secret she had to keep from him.

There were times that she oh so badly wanted to tell Alastor that her real job was killing people, and that running the flower shop was a cover up, but she was terrified that he was going to be disgusted with her, and leave her.

And Y/N didn't know what she would do if Alastor left.

It was mid afternoon, almost noon. The weather outside was very rainy and very stormy. Y/N was arranging the shelves, making sure the flower buds were facing the front.

It always annoyed her when customers would look at flowers and not put them back the correct way.

When she was done, she walked to the register and counted the money.

She sighed. Business was very slow that day, obviously because of the rain. She had almost considered closing the shop up early and going home, but felt it was better to just stay, just in case any customers came in after the rain cleared up.

Sitting down the chair behind the counter, Y/N put her head in her hands, bored as ever.

Hopefully Alastor would come and visit her. He always did, but Y/N thought he might not today obviously because of the stormy weather.

To her surprise and delight, she heard the bell ring, signaling that there was a customer.

"Hello can I help yo-Alastor!"

"Hello, my love," Alastor said, swooping down to catch Y/N in a kiss.

Y/N would never get tired of kissing Alastor, no matter how many time she did kiss him. It was like magic every time.

"How has your day been?" Alastor asked as he pulled away.

"Very slow, but much better now that you're here," Y/N smiled. "How was yours?"

"As slow as molasses," Alastor sighed. "I had to cancel all my broadcasts today because of this damn weather."

"Oh, that's a shame," she said. "It seems like this weather is bringin' everybody down."

"You can say that again," he said. "You thinking of heading home early?"

"I was thinkin' 'bout it," she replied. "I think I'll stick around for a few more hours."

"Well, if you're not busy tonight," Alastor said, grabbing onto her hips. "How about dinner at my place?"

"Depends," Y/N said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Are you gonna be the one cookin'?"

"Of course," he chuckled.

"Then I'll have to take a rain check on that," she giggled. "Dinner sounds nice, what time should I swing by?"

"I prefer around six," Alastor answered..

"Six it is," Y/N said. "You gonna head back home?"

"I suppose so, yes. I gotta tidy up a bit."

"All that for me?"

"Only the best for you, my dear," Alastor said, sincere. "I'll catch you later tonight."

"Aw, alright," Y/N pouted. "If I ain't there by at least seven, you better come and get me and drag me back to your place."

"Alright, I will, I promise," he laughed before leaning down and placing his lips on Y/N's.

The kiss was sweet and loving, as it always was. The way their lips perfectly molded against each other, like they were made for each other, made Y/N's heart feel like it was about to burst.

The only reason they broke apart was so they could breath air.

If Y/N could, she would make Alastor her air.

"Goodbye, Al," she smiled up at him. "I love you."

"I love you most," he said, before letting go of her.

He gave her one more smile before walking out of the shop, the bell ringing, signaling his leave.

Y/N walked back behind the counter, a dreamy smile on her face.

"I'm going to marry that man someday," she dreamily said to herself.

Even though it was rainy and story outside, nothing could ruin this perfect day.

It was 5:45 in the evening. Y/N was counting the money in the register for the twelfth time that day.

Besides Alastor, only three other people came in the shop that day.

Screw the rainy weather. No one even likes rain that much anyway.

Looking up at the clock, Y/N decided that she was going to stop working, and head over to Alastor's

Going into the back room, she put the money into a safe under a fake floorboard, checked her nightly schedule for that week (thankfully she only had to kill two people that week), and grabbed her umbrella and her raincoat, preparing to go into the cold rainy weather.

Walking out of the back room, she was stopped dead in her tracks, a look of fear and despair on her face.

"J-Jasper," she choked. "What are you doin' here?"

The two of them hadn't interacted since the incident in the flower shop six months ago. Y/N had hoped that Jasper had taken the hint and decided to leave her alone.

But this was Jasper we're talking about, and things never were easy with him, no matter how big or small the situation was.

"Just came to say hi," he said, a sadistic and gleeful smile on his face. He was holding something behind his back, but Y/N didn't know what.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other, thought we could catch up a bit."

He started to walk closer to Y/N, she started to back up.

"So now you're with that mama's boy, Alastor Altruist, huh?" he said, still grinning. "Didn't think you would be into a weirdo like that, but oh well."

Y/N didn't say anything, too frozen in fear to say a single word.

Jasper then revealed what was behind his back. It was a long, thin, razor sharp blade, the kind that Y/N would use when she didn't feel like using any of her guns.

If you wanted to kill someone real quick, you would use a blade like the one Jasper had.

Y/N's eyes widened in fear and terror.

She had a small pistol in her office, but there was no way she was going to be able to get it without putting up a fight.

"Y'know darling," he drawled, creeping very slowly towards her. "I didn't quite like the things you said to me the last time we talked.

Y/N gulped, slowly inching herself towards a shelf holding a dozen flower vases.

Jasper didn't notice. "Not gonna say anything, huh?" he asked, eyes glinting sinisterly.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm just gonna spill your fuckin' guts out."

Jasper lunged at Y/N, ready to strike.

Quickly, Y/N grabbed one of the vases on the shelf, and smashed it over Jasper's head, glass shards and flowers going everywhere all over the floor.

"You bitch!" Jasper snarled. He stopped in his tracks for a moment, clutching his bleeding head.

Y/N took this opportunity to try and run out of the front door.

She decided that it was stupid if she locked herself in her back room. If she ran out the front door, she could just run to the nearest public place and get help.

She was just a few feet from the door, when Jasper grabbed onto her wrist, twisting it hard.

Y/N turned around and was getting ready to punch him in the jaw, but that was replaced with a cry of pain and anguish.

Jasper had stabbed Y/N in the stomach, just above where her belly button was.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise and fear, crying out again when Jasper stabbed her a second time.

"How does that feel?" he whispered. "Doesn't feel too good does it?"

"F-" Y/N stuttered. "Fuck you!"

With a snarl, Jasper stabbed her in the shoulder.

Blood was oozing out of all three of her stab wounds, staining both her and Jasper's clothes, and staining the white marble tile.

Jasper dragged her away, propping her in a siting position behind the counter.

"No one's gonna find you right here," he smirked. "Besides, you'll die in at least thirty minutes anyway."

Y/N knew that wasn't right, but didn't say anything, scared out of her mind.

What was she going to do?

She wasn't ready to die.

She didn't want to die.

What would happen to her shop?

What would happen to precious dog, Honey?

What would happen to Alastor?

As one last 'fuck you', Jasper bent down, kissed Y/N's sweaty forehead, and walked out the front door, the bell chiming.

As soon as he left, Y/N tried to get off the ground. She tried at least five times. But each time she tried, she failed, she fell back onto the ground with a painful wail.

After the fifth time, she stared up at the ceiling, wondering what would happen when someone found her body.

Maybe this was karma for all the people she had killed over the fifteen years she had been an assassin, she thought.

As Y/N thought about it more, she actually didn't feel like she was going to die. Yes, it was painful, but it just felt like she hadn't had any sleep in a really long time.

And she really wanted to sleep.

She looked up at the clock. It was 5:58.

She laughed dryly. If only she had left a little bit earlier, even if it was just a minute, she wouldn't of been on the floor bleeding out.

With one last sigh coming out of her mouth, she closed her eyes, succumbing to the darkness, and passed out thinking about Alastor and her dog.

In no way she was ready to die, or wanted to, but she accepted that there was nothing she could do, and that this was karma.

She deserved to die, she thought

CLIFFHANGER

i wont be uploading any time this weekend or next weekend because i'll be in disneyland

i'm so excited

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist 💋

@maksdust @trippoverrt @slytherin4ever @lucifers-silhouette @a-small-tyrant

@mo-0-o @cutiebimbo @mommymilkers0526 @mikariell95 @al-of-the-stars

@martinys-world @bibliophile-yomna @mysticwitchcraftco @notsoaverageguy-1997 @flamewriterr

#character x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor altruist #alastor x reader #alastor altruist x reader

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