#the alternate idea would have been cool too

[kicktwine]

this is the result of too many thought trains colliding at once so like - s. sorry paranatural likers. I only had one cool idea all day and it was to turn King C into a spirit fusion hostile takeover gundam situation

like this (very rough wip gif under the cut)

[fictionadventurer]

I am in the horrible state in which I want to write All The Stories so badly that I can write None Of The Stories.

This usually lasts 3-7 days and always stinks. Every single story idea shows up and presents itself as a vivid expansive piece that will be easy to write and should be written soon. It is a lie. My brain knows it is a lie and thus sits back and waits five minutes for me to get bored and move on to the next idea. Yet they all clamor around in the background taking up my attention span and making it impossible to focus on any one idea.

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

if you keep undressing me with your eyes, i’m going to catch a cold.

alastor, lucifer, rosie, husk

⌇alastor

you looked the radio demon up and down, thinking that doing so from the farthest corner of the bar would ensure he didn’t see you. it’s not like you could help it though. alastor had switched out his normal suit for a gorgeous red velvet, his hair pulled up with what looked like braids in it, no doubt nifty’s doing. you took a sip of your drink and looked down, seeing him look up at your area of the bar.

you had been doing this since you had sat down at the bar. watching him interact with patrons and royalty, who were there to have their pocket books pried open for some funding as well as support for the hotel. it wasn’t an easy task by any means even with lucifer in support of the idea and here tonight. you were supposed to be chatting people up as well, but after the first guy you spoke to kept his hand on your arm for a little too long, you decided you were too sober for all of this.

you saw alastor’s attention be pulled else where, giving you your cue to look back up. he was angled away from you and you gulped audibly. the way the jacket fit his frame, his hair style complimented his long neck, and how his waist looked so deliciously tiny made your stomach warm and your face heat. you had zoned out, your mind taking you to an alternate reality where you had a chance of slipping off that coat of his… you shook your head and your eyes locked with alastor’s. you’re not sure how it was possible but your face heated even more, almost burning with the blush you had at being caught. you couldn’t look away though, even as he smirked at you.

you swallowed heavily and shakily took a sip of your drink as you saw him depart from whoever he was talking to, walk up to the bar and stand close next you.

“just a few fingers of that old rye you have back there.” alastor requested, and husk nodded turning away. giving alastor a chance to look down at you. you felt yourself shrink under his gaze as he smiled again, almost like a smirk. he grabbed the glass husk handed to him and you watched intently as he brought the glass up to his lips and sipped his drink, glancing at his neck and the way it moved. flickering your eyes back up to his as his grin widened. he bent down at his waist, you both face to face now.

“if you keep undressing me with your eyes, i’ll catch a cold darling.” he murmured to you, as your eyes widened and you looked down ashamed. alastor chuckled and you felt his finger draw your face up to look at you again.

“cat got your tongue?” he asks, smirking. you try and speak but no words come out and you feel your face and now arms burning. you take your cool hands and place them on your cheeks. he draws them away, holding them.

“don’t do that. i like the red color. red as blood.” he says, kissing your right cheek, then straightening up and taking his drink and himself back into the middle of the party, shooting glances at you from time to time as you still just watched him charm the crowd.

⌇lucifer

there were many benefits to being with the king of hell. you practically never had to worry about anything, be that financial or even emotional or physical. you knew lucifer had you covered. he was in your corner. once word got around that you were dating the king of hell, the perks increased. you’d walk into a shop and the attendants wouldn’t let you buy anything. there was just a small ask to post it on sinstagram or voxtube and review it. which you never minded, but then that oddly started an influencing career in hell. that definitely was not something on your bingo card for when you died.

right now though, you were faced with the biggest detractor of dating the king of hell. he had to attend this gathering. very boring, and you felt your eyes glaze over as you sipped lucifer’s appletini he left. you watched him converse with this group of royalty and business people, you being the only one left at the table. not that you minded and no, you didn’t want to go make conversation over there. you sighed and decided to use this opportunity to really admire lucifer.

he was dressed in his suit but instead of the white base he wore around normally, the suit was gold with red accents. and it just brought out his eyes so well. he looked ethereal standing there, talking to those people. you gave him a once over and all you could think about was getting him out of that damn suit that fit him so well. just imagining him underneath you, panting and sobbing for-

“if you keep undressing me with your eyes, i might just catch a cold.” you hear lucifer’s voice in your ear. your gasp sounding more like a moan when he grabs the appletini in your hand and throws it back in one drink.

“undressing you? you were already undressed in my mind. already on the bed if i’m honest.” you murmur to him and watch the blush take his cheeks.

“this boring you?” he asks smiling.

“desperately.” you look at him. “we should go back home. we can pick up where i left off envisioning you on our bed underneath me… begging for more.” you grin wickedly as lucifer gulps. he quickly makes his way over to the group, explaining something and you see them all nod. he quickly makes his way back to you and takes your hand, waiting for you to get up. then he all but drags you out of the venue.

“let’s go home.”

⌇rosie

you had told rosie she should wear her new dress. and damn it she was so excited about it, that of course you said yes. now… a part of you regretted saying she should as one of the gentleman in cannibal town kept talking rosie up while she was checking out a long line of patrons. you tried to breathe as you just watched rosie. you knew she was capable of taking care of herself. you watched how she nimbly packed up different items, wrapping them all while charming all around her. her figure was so graceful and the dress hugged her just right, accentuating her waist. you bit your lip watching her. both of your eyes widening as you caught each others gaze.

you blushed deeply while she smirked at you and checked out the last guest in line. finally she took a second to come over to you.

“if you keep undressing me with your eyes, i’m going to catch a cold darling.” she purred as she strode up to you. you saw behind her the same gentleman watching the both of you, his gaze hungry. you glared at him as you grabbed a bit of rosie’s skirt possessively, but not wanting to make a show. she chuckled.

“he’s really got you worked up, don’t he?” she asked.

“he keeps flirting with you. it’s disgusting.” you comment, looking at rosie. she hums and pulls you up so you were standing. she still towered over you, as she gently maneuvered you face to look up at her. she smiled again, licking her lips and she bends down and kisses you. your eyes widen as you throw your arms around her neck, reaching up on your tip toes to get closer.

you hum into the kiss, gently weaving your fingers in rosie’s hair and pulling at her nape. you feel the growl that comes from her, slightly panting as she break.

“get a fuckin’ room! absolutely disgusting. there are children!” you hear susan yell and you sigh. you hands at rosie’s waist, absentmindedly rubbing over the boning in the dress.

“i think you need to get back to the shop.” you sigh and rosie nods. “anything i can help with?”

“sit there and look pretty for me?” she asks and you laugh, nodding. you turn to the check out area and smile even brighter.

“he’s gone!” you exclaim. happy the guy from before wasn’t in the store.

“oh, yeah. he left right when i kissed you.” she laughed, patting down some of the fizz in your hair. “needed to make sure that everyone else knew who i was with though.” she winks and walks back up to the front counter as you sit back down and sigh. you wondered how you got so lucky.

⌇husk

watching husk talk to other patrons and quickly whip up drinks was a past time of yours that you greatly favored. it was sort of relaxing seeing him in an element that he excelled in, but honestly, just watching him and how good he was with his hands made you blush.

you were currently off, deep in thought, but husk caught your glance. your eyes widen as you try and look away, attempting to save whatever shred of dignity you had by playing it cool. you knew husk wasn’t dumb though. he had seen you staring.

he went back to work quickly enough and you waiting for a few more moments before looking out of the corner of your eye at him, watching him rim a glass with salt. he poured two liquors in at the same time topping off with some red liquid and a lime wedge, pushing it towards a demon who giggled as their hands touched being passed the drink.

you rolled your eyes and as soon as husk’s back was turned you took your opportunity to really look at him. he wore his usual suspenders and pants, but he had slicked back his hair tonight and had on a white button down shirt with suit themed cufflinks. it was an incredibly dapper look and you couldn’t help imagine taking off the damn shirt he was wearing. loosing your grip on reality again, you didn’t notice a drink being slid to you. you hear the drink before seeing it in front of you, looking up, you meet husk’s eyes. a smirk almost tattooed on his face. you blink a few times, trying to understand, when he chuckles.

“if ya keep starin’ at me sweetheart, and undressin’ me with those eyes of yours, i’m gonna catch a cold.” he takes back your old glass and leaves you sitting there bewildered as he helps the next guest. you take a sip and see a slip of paper from under the glass. you squint to read the scrawled handwriting.

“meet me at 1. party should be wrapped up then. you can stare all ya want.”

you placed your hand over the paper and felt your cheeks grow warm. he was going to be the death of you.

[sanguineterrain]

for the dc prompts you reblogged:

can i request jason todd x reader "someone likes being pinned down" + A flirting with B while sparring to throw them off their tracks

where reader is also a vigilante??

thank you so much 🩷

very sexy prompts thank u 😌

jason todd x gn!reader. r and robin!jay were friends, r doesn't know jason is alive/red hood but jason knows r is a vigilante. r's alias is 'nocturne' (if that's already in use oh well lmao). fighting/sparring, jason is mega in love with you as usual!!

all fics at @sanguinelibrary

****

"Still blindly following the Bat, huh?"

You land in a crouch on the rooftop, just like how Nightwing taught you. The Red Hood doesn't look at you, digging through two duffel bags. He doesn't even draw his gun, like you've seen him do with virtually every other vigilante in Gotham.

You wait, ready to spring into action. But Hood doesn't stop what he's doing. Slowly, you rise.

"What... do you mean?" you ask.

"I mean, why are you traipsing around Gotham as a bat-adjacent? Who are you s'posed to be anyway? Goth Bat? Alternative Scene Bat?"

"I'm Nocturne," you say, shoulders rising to your ears. Rude. You thought the chunky boots and star over your suit's eye mask were inspired.

Red Hood lifts a hand. "Don't get me wrong, I dig the threads. I'm just surprised B didn't have an aneurysm over the sequins. Then again, Discowing did do it first..."

Your first two meetings with the infamous Red Hood have been similar in that he's never very concerned about you stopping him (ouch), but he also isn't callous or cruel with you like he is with the other vigilantes.

Case in point: the last person who cornered Hood on a roof was Red Robin. Hood shot him in the shoulder before he could land.

In short, he's perplexing as hell.

Batman's forbidden the rest of the team to confront Hood without backup. And you're technically not supposed to be on patrol tonight. But if you can intercept Hood, that'll be a huge win.

Hood keeps on packing the duffels. You hesitate, then step forward.

"Get away from the bags," you say. "I won't ask twice."

Hood looks at you. "Nocturne's a pretty cool name, I'll admit. And I like the boots. But I still think you oughta call it quits."

He zips up the bags, stands, and kicks them to the corner of the roof.

"Because you're just that unstoppable?" you ask, hands curling into fists.

"Yeah. But mostly 'cause I know you're made for so much more than this, sweetheart."

And that is the third and perhaps most bewildering thing about your encounters with Red Hood: you've gotten the creeping feeling that he... likes you.

Which is ridiculous, and if you ever breathed a word of that to anybody, Batman would probably check you into Arkham.

You take another careful step forward. Hood leans against the railing and folds his arms.

"This the part where you apprehend and hogtie me for innocently packing a duffel bag?" he asks.

You glare. "Innocent? I know you're making a weapons delivery because I know you've been waiting for Batman to be off-planet to make it."

"Clever. Told ya you're too good for this," Hood says. "Should be in college with those smarts, not playing maid for Batman."

"Are you lecturing me?"

"I'm advising you as your friendly neighborhood drug lord. Lecturing makes me sound like a guy who's got too much money and too big of a savior complex to understand that the way he fights injustice is fundamentally flawed."

"Sounds personal."

Hood laughs. "Honey, you have no idea."

You strike.

Hood parries your first attack easily, which you expect. The truth is that whoever trained Hood cut no corners and you're still relatively new at vigilantism. It's only by the grace of God that Hood hasn't left you to bleed out on a roof.

You kick his shin, but Hood turns on the instep and blocks. You go for his shoulder, where his armor separates to give him more movement. But Hood's ready for that too, and he catches your arm.

"Gotta keep that right arm up," he says. "Surprised no one's trained that outta you yet."

You elbow Hood in the throat. He coughs and lets go.

"Like that?" you ask, muscles tense with adrenaline.

Hood makes a sound that might be a laugh, still choked from your hit. "Just like that, honeylove. Good job."

"I don't need feedback," you snap, immediately going back in for another hit.

"Sorry. I'll make this quick then. I do have a delivery."

On the next strike, you advance, using a technique Nightwing drilled into your head for bigger opponents. Hood goes down and you land atop him.

"Oh, that's a Nightwing takedown if I've ever seen one," Hood says beneath you.

You're close enough that you can hear his breathing through the decoder. Pride swells in you at taking him down. Not even Batman has managed such a thing.

Hood is warm and big. His shoulder span alone dwarfs you. When you'd seen him from afar, fighting Batman or Nightwing, you'd been terrified.

But now, perhaps stupidly, you feel comfortable. Annoyed, but safe. Something about him reminds you of home. Makes your stomach flip in a good way.

Which is terrifying.

"You're coming with me," you say, reaching for your cuffs.

"If only. Unfortunately, you've forgotten a teensy weensy detail, dearest."

Hood bucks you off, legs first. Your feet fly into the air, which allows him to flip your positions. You wince, preparing for a concussion upon impact as you go down. But Hood cushions your fall and neatly rolls you over. Your back is pressed into the concrete, hands locked over your head. Hood's weight holds down your hips and legs.

He looms over you, easily holding you down. Your face grows hot.

"How did—" You squirm in his grip. "I had you!"

"Weight distribution, sweets. Tell Al—one of the Bats to add weight to your boots. They keep you light on your feet, but you were depending on them too much to hold me down, and we ain't evenly matched there."

You thrash in his grip. "Hood, I swear to fucking—"

"Easy. Don't sweat it, sweetheart. You haven't been doing this for very long. That was a good takedown, regardless. I'm impressed."

"Screw you."

He hums. You can tell he's smiling under the helmet. "Sorry, I forgot. You don't like feedback."

Hood strokes the inside of your wrist. You aren't sure he's aware he's doing it. His grip is firm but light. He's not trying to hurt you. Your pulse is in your throat.

For a moment, you're both still. Hood seems caught in a trance, like even Superman couldn't tear him away from this moment. From you. And it's not that you're afraid, you're just... you're...

"How do you know so much about me?" you blurt, because it's puzzled the whole team. "You been spying on me?"

"'Course not. Unlike your boss, I respect privacy. No, I did research. I recognized you from when you'd hang around that second Robin. Shrimpy little guy. What'd ya even see in him?"

The grief overtakes you before you can control your mouth.

"You don't know anything about me or him," you spit. "Don't fucking talk about him. He had more skill and goodness in his pinkie than you'll have in a lifetime. And you could learn a thing from him about changing a city. He'd tell you that fear alone never works."

Hood is quiet for a long moment. Then he speaks.

"Where's your distress signal?"

"Why would I tell—"

Hood shifts over you, cutting off your reply. He pulls a ziptie around your wrists. They're not even a little tight. You could probably slip out of them if you had five minutes.

"I know you're not s'posed to be out tonight," he whispers in your ear. "'S not your patrol night. Good thing you're my favorite."

You nearly swallow your tongue. "How do you—I don't—"

"Uh-huh. So you be good from now on, yeah? Wouldn't wanna have to keep tying you up like this."

You lift your chin. "We'll switch positions soon enough."

Hood snorts. "Okay, I know you heard how that soun—"

"I heard it," you say grumpily. "Just get on with it. Jerk."

"As you wish. Distress signal?"

"Collar."

Hood presses the button under your collar. Your breath hitches as his gloved fingers graze your neck.

"Oh? Does somebody like getting pinned down?"

"In your dreams."

Hood laughs. He zipties your ankles last, then sits you upright against the railing.

"Not too tight, are they?" he asks. "I know you've got a circulation problem."

You squint. "You seem to know a lot about me. Not fair that I don't know much about you, Hood."

"'S just business, honeylove," he says, scooping up his duffel. "Now I don't wanna see you in a suit anymore, comprende?"

"Or you'll what? Shoot me?"

Hood pauses, eerily still. He turns those glowing white eyes upon you. Your heart picks up.

"No," he says, so serious it startles you. "But someone else might. And I don't want you to face the same fate as your good friend Robin."

He vaults over the railing before you can respond. Your head thunks lightly as you lean back and wonder if you're really just business to the Red Hood.

(pt 2)

[daybrightsims]

Alright, they've lived in my brain too long; Time to air out my thoughts about the polyamory in BG3

To give a little context: I am currently ethically non-monogamous with my primary partner of almost 7 years. I am not a monolith of thought when it comes to polyamory/ENM/open relationships. These are my own personal thoughts and feelings. I've also completed the game with Astarion and Halsin romanced. Spoilers ahead, read at your own risk.

TL;DR - I don't share the current opinion of whether or not Astarion is okay with Tav pursuing Halsin and the discourse around his agency and choices in the relationship are bumming me out and frustrating me.

I am getting increasingly frustrated about the conversation about Astarion being polyamorous/okay with Tav being with Halsin in the game, primarily because I think a lot of the "think pieces" are coming from 1) monogamous people who have only ever been monogamous, 2) monogamous people who have been burned/cheated on/forced into polyamory by a partner (I feel for ya'll, that wasn't okay), 3) people who are very VERY protective of Astarion, and 4) people who are blatantly uncomfortable with polyamory. My goal is not to invalidate anyone's experiences, but to share an alternate perspective.

I do think that Astarion is not only okay, but happy with Tav dating Halsin. I glean this from how he responds to being poly with ANY OTHER companion. If you ask him to share with literally anyone else, he will say no and give his reason.

Gale: He doesn’t want to be in a love triangle (which with Gale, it would be).

Lae’zel: He’s uncomfortable and Lae’zel would kill him (also true).

Wyll: He knows Wyll is old fashioned and monogamous.

Karlach: He knows Karlach’s feelings for you are strong and he doesn’t want to stand in the way of that (he even says he’d be cool with an arrangement but knows Karlach will need all of your affection based on what she’s been through).

Shadowheart: He would be cool IF Shadowheart had more experience and ya’ll were together longer. But he knows Shadowheart is fragile in her current state.

Minthara: He REALLY doesn’t like this idea and will dump you immediately.

I did also see that ***SPOILER*** they updated or are updating some of the spawn Astarion language to have issues with your affair with Mizora should you pursue it, and it requires a persuasion/deception role to keep you two together.

Up to this point in your relationship with Astarion, he has become more comfortable voicing his opinions and concerns with you. He is learning to value his autonomy and his non-physical relationships. He will tell you when he doesn’t want to do something. In fact, he’ll break up with you over pushing his boundaries. He is fine with you pursuing the Drow twins and fine with you sleeping with Haarlep, even comforts you when Haarlep uses your form. So when he says he is okay with you pursuing Halsin, he means it. Yes, he voices his insecurity with you that you may be pursuing Halsin because you and he haven’t had sex in a while. But he acknowledges that Halsin has experience in this arrangement and doesn’t pose a threat to your relationship. Plus, if you kiss Halsin in front of him, he’ll say “don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the show.”

To me, the idea that this is the ONE thing that Astarion doesn't have agency over in an arc of showing he can speak up for himself is you sleeping with Halsin is an idea that takes more agency from Astarion. He is a grown man. A 240 YEAR OLD man. That trauma he's endured does not mean he needs to be babied or coddled because he can't make his own choices. I think that's an unfair assumption to put on him that Halsin and Tav being together is the ONLY thing he can't enforce his boundaries on.

If he didn't want you to be with Halsin, he would say no like every other monogamous character in the game.

If you want a good example of someone saying yes just because they want to keep you, look at Karlach. You can tell she is HEARTBROKEN when you ask her, but she says “I don’t want to lose you”. That is not an enthusiastic participant in a polyamorous relationship. Astarion says “yeah, go for it! Just give me some reassurance”. Polyamory is not immune to insecurity. I've asked for reassurance in my own relationships and so has my primary partner. That’s not unenthusiastic. That’s realistic as shit. If you ask him about the relationship after you finish his questline, he doesn’t need reassurance because you’re having sex again. That’s also super realistic.

Am I sensitive to this as someone who practices ENM? Almost certainly. It's hard to see a lifestyle I live be villainized and claimed to be "forced" onto characters. I was actually really excited that I could pursue both Astarion and Halsin, and that Halsin places so much importance on consent and not misleading your partner. And it sucks SOO much to see one of my favorite characters be reduced to "oh, he's only doing it because he's afraid to lose Tav." It makes me almost feel bad for liking the interactions between them and enjoying to option. Do I think people mean to make me or other poly people feel bad? No.

But it does.

Headcanons are headcanons. I get it. People are absolutely allowed to interpret the poly aspect of BG3 how they want to. People are allowed to feel uncomfy with how it's portrayed and not pursue it. But it still bums a queer ENM Astarion and Halsin lover out.

Now excuse me whilst I live out my Astarion x Halsin x Tav polycule fantasies in the form of fanfiction.

[zoe-oneesama]

Now that it’s been brought back to the forefront of my mind in regards to yesterday’s SL asks, it really is genuinely kinda nuts how the potions were revealed in Season 2 and have only physically appeared (i.e. not just been mentioned or shown in a one-off picture or alternate timeline) in 13 out of what’s now 92 episodes (not counting specials) since their closest-to-chronological debut. Even more wild is the fact that, like you pointed out, only 3 out of 7 potion powers are canonically known to date. Apparently That Guy tweeted a few years back that one of the remaining ones is supposed to be a Fire potion (which, if true, may be the one Marinette was trying to figure out the “spicy little rock” ingredient for in Mr. Pigeon 72?) that gives the user the ability to walk on lava and/or a resistance to scorching heat, but they haven’t been able to use it since “Fire is something very difficult to use in shows watched by kids, because we have to pay extra-care that they won't see fire as a cool thing and play with it afterwards. Broadcasters tend to prefer not showing it at all.” To which I’m like?? A) You guys STAY hopping between whether you want your target demographic to be little kids or early teens in actual practice. B) There have to be a million ways that you can blatantly write the idea that fire is dangerous which is why the Fire potion would be NEEDED (or, y’know, have more faith in your audience’s ability to intuitively understand that from the get-go). C) If you already understood that a fire power up was genuinely likely to be a hard no-go with your broadcasters, maybe change your plans to only conceptualizing 6 instead of 7 potions before putting them in the actual show???

Right? And like, he said Lava as well. So do something WITH LAVA if you can't use fire! (I bet it would be easier to animate too!) Or, or! Invent a kind of goo or acid that burns LIKE Lava so they have to use the suit! That could be the debut episode, where it's impossible to get close because of the heat and burn of it until BAM! Fire Suit.

It's not like you have to use the suits OFTEN, they've only used the Ice one like two times I think, just do a debut episode and then use it for Ordinary Heroing, like actually running into a burning building and saving people. Pretty sure even kids don't think house fires are cool, so you don't HAVE to associate fire with a "cool" akuma.

A long time ago when I was ranting about this I was informed by a Anon that the others were "revealed" at some convention or expo and they were things like Air and Space (space hadn't been shown at the time), Sun and Moon, and like...Soul? So, what's the difference between Air and Space? Are Sun and Moon supposed to be Light and Dark, how is that following the Environmental Costume Change of the three we know? Wtf is Soul? Maybe it's a lack of cohesion that's making this difficult for them.

The more I hear about them, the more I think this idea was never fully fleshed out and will never BE fleshed out.

[uranometrias]

✮ꜜ : ❛ guilt's a motherfucker : spencer reid x fem! reader

pairing: spencer reid x bau! reader

summary: denial was an art, especially in a field like the one that you worked in. as a profiler, it was almost impossible for anyone to pull the wool over your eyes. you'd spent enough time with your team to know that this gift, this specific sort of perception was not something you were immune to either. meaning, no matter how much you tried to keep things a secret, someone on your team was bound to read right through you. especially spencer. 🔱 ━━ alternatively: the one where your inability to say what you want leads spencer to accept the affections of someone else.

content warnings: i think this could be considered angst . spencer reid having a crush on reader. reader being jealous of spencer getting attention from someone else. cute friendship between derek+ emily + reader. reader is the youngest on the team. set in s6, pre- jj’s departure.

read part two here

“You doing alright, babygirl?” Derek’s voice isn’t hard to miss, and the obvious smugness that was attached made your eyes roll. You knew from the moment that you’d leaned forward in your chair, lips pulling down into a deep pout that someone would clock you and quite quickly put two and two together. You didn’t mean to be obvious, in fact, usually you did a much better job at keeping your cool. However, there was something glaringly different today.

Spencer had gone for a new look, you remembered the day he walked in with his hair freshly cropped, shoulder-length tresses replaced with what Hotch had affectionately referred to as "boy band" hair. The rest of the team had laughed, you'd even cutely hid your own snicker behind your hand, but you couldn't deny that it fit him. It was flattering, dare you say cute as hell. In the weeks that followed though, he'd went even shorter, gone were all traces of boy band.

The look he sported now was distracting, incredibly so. He looked good, and it seemed you weren't the only that seemed to notice.

"She's eating him with her eyes." you grumble, arms crossing as Derek comes up behind you. He's got his chin pressed to your shoulder, following your line of sight, as a boisterous laugh escapes him. "It's not funny, Derek." this hiss of yours only seems to fuel his amusement as he starts to chuckle even louder.

"You've been mean mugging that girl since she walked in this morning." Derek rounds your desk now, obstructing your view of the betrayal taking place across the bullpen. It was a slow day, a good day. No cases, but loads of paperwork. Your desk was covered in nothing but files, some you'd started, some you'd finished. You're still cross, but you allow yourself to look up at your long time friend.

"I'm not mean mugging." you huff, blinking slow as you think over your clear fib. "There's just something in my eye." you whisper, and it's not convincing. You can tell by the way Derek's bag chuckling.

"Yeah, a green monster." he retorts quickly, and you can't deny the way it catches you off guard, as a choked laugh at your own expense escapes you. "Jealousy's not a good look on you, little bit." he hums and you droop, because of course you know that. "Why don't you just talk to the guy? Look him in the eye and tell him straight up how you're feeling?" he asks, and despite all his jokes and quips, Derek Morgan was perceptive, and he cared about you.

"That's a horrible idea." you exclaim, and your entire body jerks back, recoiling as if you'd been stung. "God, aren't you supposed to be some kind of smooth criminal?" your eyebrows quirk upward, "What type of advice is that?" you proceed, and Derek's bemused, looking down at you as he waits for you to finish your spiel.

"Just tell him straight up how you feel?" you deepen your voice to mock his, "Why don't I just run around the bullpen in underwear too, since we're doing dumb things." you huff, and your dramatics are amusing. They always have been. You'd been a member of the team going on two years, and you'd made a mark so deep it almost felt like you'd always been a part of the Unit.

You were a stark contrast to Emily and JJ, and a complete 180 from the angsty bombshell that had been Elle Greenaway. You were a wide-eyed 20-something year old that still had so much light behind your eyes, and a hope that you wouldn't shake. You had a way of making everyone laugh. You could pull anyone out of their heads, even Hotch, who Derek had caught many times fighting back small content smizes as you took the team's mind off the gore of the job.

"That's one way to get attention." he hums, and you huff again.

"Derek, you're not being helpful. If you're just here to laugh at my misery, I'm gonna start rethinking your place in my life." you hum, and you lean forward, chin resting against your palms. Derek appraises you, head tipping to the side as he offers you a charming grin.

"All I'm saying is, you've been crushing on the kid since you got here." he reminds you, and your frown deepens. "And the world wont be blind forever." he mumbles, and you know what he means. Spencer Reid to you had always been the most beautiful guy, but he'd been buried under mountains of trauma and insecurities that he had never been able to accept that. With time though, Spencer had begun to blossom, and this new haircut seemed to be a testament of this.

He was coming into himself, there was a new confidence budding in his steps, less stammers between phrases, and you didn't really have to fight for eye contact much anymore. He was still Spence, and in his words, he was far from an Alpha Male, but he could be. And he would be, you just knew it. Which meant that the more confident he became, the more women would see him the way you saw him. Damn. Derek sees the way the cogs in your mind move, and he sighs.

"Take it from someone who's been around-." you can't help but to insert with your own little quip. "What are you calling yourself a dog?" you tease, and his eyes roll, but he still grins wide.

"Listen." he stretches the word a bit, and he's looking you right in the eye. You can see sympathy swirling through the pretty pools of brown, and you believe that maybe if you were a bit older, and had met Derek first, you'd be swooning for him the way you were swooning for Spencer. You shake these thoughts of his beauty away, as you give him the space to speak freely. "I know what it's like to miss a window." he reminds you. "Rejection's a bitch." he adds.

True. It was precisely why you'd never bothered to say anything to Spencer. You got through life by pretending things were fine, by making a joke out of the hard stuff. You wouldn't be able to handle opening your heart to someone, and being told 'No'. That you weren't good enough, that you weren't what they needed. Maybe that was selfish, rejection was a part of life. It was necessary, but still. You'd rather deal with your unresolved issues alone. You saw no need to bring Spencer into conversations about your feelings for him at all.

"But guilt's a motherfucker." and Derek's words stop you short. You blink. What was worse? The sting that rejection could cause or the gaping hole that guilt would bring? The thought of getting an invite to a wedding day for a future Mr. and Mrs. Spencer Reid while you sitll held romantic feelings close to your chest made you want to vomit. Perhaps Derek had a point. At least if Spence turned you down with time the two of you could work around it, become friends again.

If you never said anything though, you'd have no right to be angry or hurt or jealous if some woman with much more confidence than you managed to swoop in and knock him off his feet Damn, you hated when Derek was right. His chuckle is what alerts you that your begrudging inner thoughts had been uttered aloud.

"What's Derek right about?" you smell the familiar scent of Prentiss' perfume before you see her face. It's subtle but comforting, and it makes you unconsciously relax in your seat. Derek's moving out of your line of sight, and you're met with the sight of Spencer still talking to the woman. She had a firm grip on a mug of coffee in one hand, her other hand leisurely tracing circles on Spencer's arms. You inhale sharply, swiveling in your seat as you turn to face Emily.

"Everything." Derek takes the swing, winking as you and Emily share a dry glance. He then subtly nods his head towards the woman crowding Spencer at the kitchenette and Emily's lips form a thin line of understanding. She turns to you, hand resting on your shoulder as she gives it a firm squeeze.

"Don't you think it's time to take a swing?" she offers, and you hate that immediately she falls into step with Derek. The duo forming a united front against you to ensure you put your big girl pants on and tell him the way you're feeling. "Here's an idea," And Emily's looking for a second to make sure Spencer is still too preoccupied to make his way over. "You've been trying to find someone to go with you to that new movie... what was it?" Emily snaps her fingers.

"Crash of the-" you cut her off with a deep sigh.

"Clash... it's Called Clash of the Titans." you mutter, and you pout. You had been trying to convince Emily, JJ, and Penelope to give the action film a shot. What could be better than watching Sam Worthington run across your scream for nearly two hours as you're transported to Ancient Greece? But, alas... the girls were far more interested in other things. In truth, they'd all agreed that they'd prefer to see something a little less packed with gore and violence.

Just for a change of pace.

You couldn't slight them for their polite rejection of your plans. The last case you'd been on had been especially taxing and nightmare inducing. "Why don't you ask him instead?" she hums, and you look over at the chatting duo, they'd really been talking for a while. There's this easygoing sort of look on Spencer's face, and the beauty across from him has turned about the same shade of red as the lipstick smeared across her full pout.

"Looks like she beat me to it." you mutter, and you think maybe God hates you, because as you let the words out, the girl is beaming even brighter, slipping something she'd written on a napkin into the palm of his hand. She offers a flirty wink before she's sashaying off, hips moving from side to side as she makes her way back to her own little cubby. "Ah well, who cares?" you try your hand at playing nonchalant. "It's not like I was in love with him or anything."

And the thing about Denial was that you'd spent so long making it your security blanket that you often forgot you were working with some of the most brilliant minds the FBI had ever produced.

Derek pats your shoulder, he's sympathetic to your plight. He was probably the only person you had been the most forthcoming with about these feelings you harbored. Emily frowns, and she offers you a side hug, chin resting on the top of your head. Their comfort makes you feel better, but the coil of feelings in your gut only seems to tighten. You wanted to be alone, you'd been perceived enough, if any of them pushed any further you may have broken into tears.

"I-I should get back to work." you mutter quietly, and they both know what you're doing. For once they resist the urge to comment, and they leave you be. Your desk was farthest away from the rest of the team. You and Hotch had agreed it was necessity. You could focus more when your back was to the rest of them. You let out a quiet sigh, fingers drumming against the table as you swallowed your emotions. You tiredly reach for an unfinished file, flipping it open.

Blurry words peer back at you, and you're shocked to realize that despite all your efforts you were still about to cry. Fuck.

You close your eyes, counting up to thirty in both english and spanish, by the time you'd finished breathing treinta under your breath, you had a new guest in front of you. Spencer stretched up for what felt like miles, his eyebrows furrowed as he stood before your desk with a look of confusion on his face. "Hey, are you alright?" he asks, and his voice always has this tenderness throughout.

"J-Just fine." and your stammer gives you away. Your voice is coated with mucus, a surefire signal that you were about a few seconds shy of having an immature meltdown. How silly of you to be this shaken up over the prospect of Spencer being with someone else. How dare you? You didn't even have the balls to admit that your playful flirting was just you overcompensating for the fact you couldn't do it foreal.

"I read somewhere that breathing exercises help you get through boring things." you motion to the file, and you've perfected your fake grin. Spencer doesn't look convinced, but he plays along.

"Oh, yeah? Where'd you read that?" he asks and you blanche.

"Uh. Just somewhere." you answer, and he's raised both his eyebrows. You recover quickly, clearing your throat. "You've replaced me, huh?" you ask, and you're playing it off like one of your jokes. Spencer looks shocked for a second, before he tips his head to the side as he looks down at you as if you were the most important thing in his world. If only.

"What do you mean?" he pries, and you motion with your head to the coffee station.

"Found another pretty girl to boost your head up, huh?" you mutter, and there's this flash. Something you can't quite catch, mostly because you're not in the mood to profile and analyze what all his facial expressions meant now. "You guys looked like you were having a good time." you add, and you hope you don't sound bitter. Jealousy or not, if Spencer was happy, you'd be happy too. You'd try.

"Yeah." he replies, and his face is turning red. "S-She was just being nice." he answers, and you hate that the first thing you notice is how he hasn't said 'No, I haven't replaced you.' You sour all the more.

"That's nice, Spence." you hum, and it's clear you've now become uninterested. So much for trying.

Still, Spencer was nothing if not selectively oblivious. You guys had been playing this game for almost a year, he wasn't going to make it easy for you to cop out and make him the bad guy. "She actually asked me to go see-" the rest of his joy-ridden words are mush in your head, and you can imagine how unamused you looked as you half-listened to him go on about how they were going out Saturday.

Yippee.

You don't mean to be rude, not really. But you couldn't bring yourself to listen to anymore. "Congratulations, Spencer." you cut him off abruptly. "But I've got to finish this, so if you could just-" and you're ushering him off as he stares at you aghast.

"What's your problem?" he pries, and you blink owlishly.

"Nothing." you insist, and you look over your shoulder. The team was not-so-subtly watching the exchange. Typical.

"I find that hard to believe." Spencer retorts, and he's got this unimpressed look on his face, like he knows something you don't. His genius has never irked you before, but right now it just makes you feel more perceived. Like he knew how you felt and was rubbing this all in your face. He couldn't possibly be that cruel though, right?

"Well that's not really my problem is it?" you snap, and Spencer's reaction is instantaneous. His scoff rings in your ears.

"Yeah, actually it is." he shoots back, and you rear back in surprise. What was that supposed to mean. "You know this is getting really old." and your strangled gasp escapes you before you can stop it.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you narrow your eyes as you set your glare on him. He's got his own challenging sort of glance on his face, almost like he's daring you to keep playing dumb. You will. If only to push him to spit out whatever was so clearly sitting on the tip of his tongue. "Go on. Please tell me, Mr. All knowing." you press and his eyes roll. You look like a perturbed toddler ready to fling yourself on the ground and scream.

"Grow up." is all he says, and it slices you clean in half. "If you're gonna play the role of the jealous little girl, at least respect me enough to not play dumb about it when you're caught." and then he's leaving you sitting at your desk, and you're gawking.

Fuck.

[seikkoi]

𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄 | dom!wanda maximoff x f!reader

18+ minors dni | dark-ish content warning

content/warnings: explicit sexual content, female domination themes, spanking, overstimulation, choking if you squint,

genre: pure smut, minimal braincells

word count: 1,554

Your typically patient wife has had enough of your attitude.

Your eyes squeezed shut, body tensing as Wanda’s palm meets your  skin again. You’re draped over her lap, nails digging into the soft suit pants at her thighs when another strike meets your ass. With every delicious sting, her other hand alternates between stroking your clothed back or fondling your hair. You writhe at the pain, legs restricted by your pants pulled down to your ankles. Normally, Wanda had the patience to undress you fully before punishing you. Normally, she would have stopped five minutes ago. But then again, you normally acted like less of a brat.

ᗢ

It was late when Wanda returned home, much later than usual. The busyness of the day affairs kept her from giving you a heads-up. You had a good two hours to build up your attitude about her tardiness. The ticking hands of the clock served as taunting background music while you watched dinner grow cold. 

You couldn’t fathom a reason she at least didn’t call to tell you, angrily putting away dinner and showering. The front door knob turned just as you re-entered the living room. Wanda, your ever-beautiful wife, wore tiredness in her face, but still greeted you with a smile. Seeing the dark, curve-hugging suit she wore to work made it difficult to be upset anymore, but not impossible. Before she could explain anything, you were on her case. Endless rhetoric about the importance of punctuality and communication spouted from your mouth. You gave no credence to the perfectly reasonable explanation she gave- only responding with more attitude. 

Wanda merely stood, unable to get much of a word in. You, too deep into your rant, don’t notice when she goes silent, removing her suit jacket and rolling the sleeves of her crisp white button-up. You didn’t notice the sly grin tugging at her mouth, or when she took slow, heavy steps towards you.

“You done, darling?” she cooed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

The house was dim, with enough light for you to see the familiar glint in her green eyes. There was a firmness to her touch, fingertips dragging against your cheek. Only then did you realize how unfair you were being, and how much you just fucked up. 

“I just-You didn’t call, you always call.” Your body relaxed at her touch, anticipation swirling in your stomach. You'd been with Wanda long enough to know what your behavior would earn you.

“And I apologized for that, my love.” Her palm wraps around your hair, tugging your head back to look at her. “But you were too busy mouthing off to hear it.”

ᗢ

That’s how you earned your current position, a whimpering, soaked, half-dressed mess in Wanda’s lap. You had eagerly submitted to this punishment, albeit still stubbornly. You hadn’t held back a snippy remark when Wanda sat and gestured to her lap, which was probably why your punishment was much, much longer than usual. 

You are lucky though, because the sight of you like this, suddenly very apologetic and needy, starts to drive Wanda insane, filling her head with more ideas.

“On the bed.” It’s a short and breathy command that you follow all too quickly, pulling your pants off completely before lying on the cool sheets. Wanda kneels next to you, staring down at your flushed body like a meal waiting to be devoured.

A moment passes as you shift your weight off your tender skin and meet Wanda’s eyes, praying that she’d forgiven your earlier behavior. 

Almost like she’s read your mind, Wanda’s crooked smile returns as her hand dances behind your underwear. 

“You can be such a good girl, but only when you want to be, hm?” Her other hand strokes your thigh, fingers sliding along your folds in the same slow place as her taunt.

Your body was far too worked up and sensitive for her teasing, groaning from the lack of attention she knew you needed. You tried to move your sore hips, anything to increase her speed, but a firm push on your thigh stopped that. 

“You’re being a little harsh here,” you whined, still trying to gain even an inch of friction.

“You think you deserve any better right now?” Wanda prevented you from responding with more protest by quickly inserting the teasing digit into you, making you arch against the mattress.

Her goal now seemed to be just shutting you up, adding a second digit and relentlessly fucking you.  It borders on being too much too quickly. You can feel the warmth spreading across your skin as Wanda presses a thumb to your clit. You were now an even bigger mess than before, moaning and jerking against her. Wanda still kept you in place, replacing the hand at your thigh with her knee on your hip. With the way your body still reacts, trying to move against her, you’re certain you'll have a fresh set of bruises there now.

Wanda soaks in every twitch however, drunk on your moans. When your mouth hangs in an open gasp, eyes fluttering, she gives you no reprise, curving the slender digits inside you.

“Shit, Wanda, that’s too much-”, your own sounds of pleasure cut you off, feeling your peak rip through you with little warning. The dampness of the sheets reaches your thighs as you swear and cry out Wanda’s name.

You learned that you were still paying for your outburst, with Wanda’s pace going unchanged. The pleasure transitioned from bliss to overwhelming as she fucked you through your orgasm and long after. The knee holding you down could barely be felt, mind too absorbed in the feeling between your legs. 

You feel like a puddle of water beneath her. Your excitement coated her fingers, making every thrust into you glide with ease. You can hardly process the digits against your walls, crying out each time she reaches your hilt or adds more pressure to your clit. When you feel your second orgasm building, the overstimulating pleasure pricks fresh tears from your tightly shut eyes. 

“W-wanda, please, I can’t.” you cry, gripping aimlessly at the damp sheets beneath you. 

You try a bit harder to sit up, moving your hips away from hold. Wanda isn’t having it, though- her free hand makes its way to your throat, pushing you back down. The smile on her face is infectious, gleaming at your pleas. 

“So polite all of a sudden, tsk,” Wanda scoffs, stretching you further with a third finger. You groan at the sensation, eyes rolling when she finds her pace again.

“I’ll make sure you don’t forget your manners next time, draga.”

[sharkylass]

ALRIGHT IN STARS AND TIME FANDOM, I'M BOUT TO HIT YOU WITH MY TAKE ON THE BELOVED SISTER!!

Those who don't want to get spoiled about little details about Bonnie's sister (or the game at all for that matter- There's spoilers for Act 3 and 4 in here so YOU'VE BEEN WARNED)

SAY HELLO TO PETRONILLE!! Or how I am going to call her, Nil. I've seen a few people do their take on her, and I wanted to join in!

@insertdisc5 I am sorry in advance if you have a vision for her, especially if it is WILDLY different to mine-

KEEP IN MIND, I AM GOING TO BE RANTING A LOT, IVE HAD THIS IN THE MAKING FOR A WHILE, THERE'S MORE ART, SO SKIP AHEAD IF YOU'D LIKE

First thing's first! I tried to figure out what she would look like in the original style. I didn't want to overly detail her with my normal style, and I wanted her to somewhat fit in with the rest. Bonnie was clearly the strongest inspiration , she has their eyes, the black hair, white thing around their head to bring attention to her face- That's also why she has lip piercings! To bring more attention to her face (and due to Bonnie's earring type, I assumed piercings can exist in the world)

Her ear has 3 earrings, that was not intentional, I just thought it was cool. I like to think they perceive those as "regular" earrings, and even if a person wears bonding earrings, they can also wear more normal earrings.

I just had the image of her not really having a short range weapon, so maybe it's time for someone with a semi-long range weapon to join the team! In my head Nil seemed to be the type to like getting dirty with her hands, so a rope seemed fitting somehow.

Also- She is paper type! I liked the idea of her looking like such a rock type, but being paper. I considered making her dual type, but since those are rare, I didn't want to get ahead of myself. Admittedly, that does make the party a little overloaded with paper types, so if she was to be in a game with balancing, I'd probably change her to rock or something. BUT AS A CHARACTER THING- she remains paper.

(EDIT: I was just reminded of the huge hammer she broke a wall with, so that is ABSOLUTELY a valid replacement weapon for her. If she was rock type that would be her weapon for sure. Altho it IS funny to imagine she broke the wall and swore off heavy weapons for life. I like to think thats what happened with my take on Nil)

Mechanically I think she wouldn't be too dissimular to Isabeau, but instead of boosting the party, she debuffs the enemy. Particularly slowing them down, and lowing defense. Alternatively, I can see her being a second healer of sorts, but while Mira is good at healing everyone, Nil is good at healing a single person and giving them a boost (just things she learned to take care of Bon). I do see her attack not being that high tho, probably lower then Mira.

ALRIGHT, TIME FOR MORE ART

Her dynamics with everyone:

Bonnie:

I like to think Bonnie got their spunky attitude from somewhere. So I like to think Nil is very playful with them, even if she is looking out for them. Bonnie clearly knows the difference between lighthearted serious, and SERIOUS serious. They also seem to revel in compliments, so I like to imagine they are used to receiving them from their sister!

Nil is the most serious around Bonnie tho. As their sole caretaker, she's trying her best to keep them out of trouble while teaching them and letting them grow at a normal pace.

However, when she's with the adults- I described it like- Around Bonnie she can be serious and a voice of reason. When she's with adults tho she herself becomes the Bonnie, so to speak. She's loud and a bit hot-headed.

Mirabelle:

I swear I saw Insertdisc mention that Mira and Nil would have a bit of a rivalry going on AND I'M SO HERE FOR IT-

The two of them are those siblings that fight constantly, but the moment someone else gives either of them shit, the other will go for the jugular. They mainly try to compete for Bon's affection and who's the better sister, and they get a bit... blindsighted. Nil usually doesn't go out of her way to spoil Bonnie I don't think, I think she tries to be reasonable with them where she can. However with Mira in the picture it becomes- a little hard... Nil doesn't like the thought that she's being replaced

However, if either of them needs it, the other will be there. Nil provides Mira with a strong shoulder to lean on, and Mira provides an emotional yet reasonable approach to the situation bothering Nil.

Odile:

I like to think at first Nil didn't really get along with Odile. Supposedly Nil has a bad relationship with her parents, so I imagine her seeing someone who's a parent aged adult who holds seemingly more authority- It would... Unnerve her for a little while.

Odile will probably give her something to do, and Nil would refuse, because who is Odile to be ordering her around?? You know. Like a child. But with time they get used to the dynamic, Nil grows to respect Odile at the very least, and Odile picks up on the fact Nil seems to respond positively to positive reinforcement from her.

Having someone close, to break that pre build idea in Nil's head with positivity, despite Odile being strict and struggling to show affection- It would do her a lot of good, and Nil will eventually thank her, and apologize for being so rough to her in the beginning.

Isabeau:

Isa and Nil are actually very similar- I did not mean for it, but I hope they don't end up being TOO similar.

They are both loud, love to laugh and take care of those they love. Even their hobbies are a bit more similar then everyone else. Nil likes gardening, and taking care of things, and Isa likes to create clothes. Both of them are in a way creating something. Nil making sure what she's taking care of grows to be big and strong, and Isa is more literal-

Where they differ is in smarts partly. Isa is clearly very book smart. I think Nil would turn to him if she had a general question about something (and later on Odile once she gets used to her). She completely encourages him to show more of what he knows.

They also differ in their buffness slightly. While Isa is still the beefiest on the team, he did it with the intention, he trained. Meanwhile I think Nil just likes the field work so she's constantly outside doing heavy dirty work.

I like to think that after being unfrozen, Nil's clothes were roughed up and she didn't really think to or have the time to fix it. So I imagine Isa saw the roughed up state of her pants and gloves, and made her some himself, Which she treasures but GOD she is not used to receiving anything from anyone, LET ALONE gifts.

They also similarly hide their insecurities under bavado. Isa hides his smarts to be liked, and Nil hides her fears so she can be brave. I'll go more into detail when I get to Nil's own section. (I SWEAR I didn't mean for Isa's section to be so long I PROMISE-)

Siffrin:

These two don't do a lot of talking I'd imagine. While Nil is used to being loud, I think she'd get used to the silence around Sif and simply enjoy the quiet.

A lot of the ideas I had with those two were very touch focused. I assume Nil struggles with touch because of potential childhood related traumas, and not being warned sends her into a fight or flight. While Sif is deeply unused to it but craves it.

I still imagine Nil isn't an inherently NOT touchy person- I mean. Bon's the touchiest little guy out there. So maybe she knows how to warn people of when she's about to touch them, AND she is more used to asking for hugs and affection. So after she learns that Sif struggles asking and being startled, she became the person that would encourage them and tell them how to do it. In every single drawing where they're touching just know that either she warned them or they asked for that touch.

Also Nil is a very grounding reminder for Sif that he's not in the loops anymore. So if they get a particular scare, like they were woken up wrong, they had a rough sleep, smelled a banana, remembered the king- anything involving going back- Nil serves as a reminder that they're here, with everyone, in the present. No going back. So that, combined with their touch therapy, it results in him being particularly physically clingy with her. She squeezes their hand ocassionally. It's a grounding reminder.

Nil is also UNBELIEVABLY THANKFUL for Sif, once she learns about how they lost their eye. The fact Sif went out of their way to protect HER little sibling- It means the world to her, and she wouldn't wish it on Sif one bit. She probably holds guilt that she couldn't take the hit for both of them, Bonnie is her responsibility! They probably end up having a conversation similar to Sif telling Mira "Do you think she was wrong? To save you?" She doesn't know about the end of act 3

AAAAAND NIL HERSELF!

A lot of this is already information I mentioned. Her being a paper type, her liking bugs, being traumatized, startled by touch- But I drew these beforehand, so!

I imagine Nil ran away young, cause Bonnie doesn't remember her running from their parents. What happened in there, I do not know and I don't think I'm capable of imagining. It might not even be as dramatic as I illustrated it. But either way, she grew up being the sole caretaker of Bonnie. I'm sure Vaugardians were kind and that they didn't have to struggle too hard for food or a place, or to get Bonnie into a school- But Nil still wanted to learn how to be self sufficient, how to provide in case something happens. It might be why they live in Bambouche honestly, Nil learned how to grow plants and being close to the sea is good for catching a lot of fish! ...It was also at the edge of Vaugarde. Probably the edges where the King's curse reached slower.

She likes getting her hands dirty and working outside, so I imagine she's a bit sunburnt! If only on her shoulders and cheeks.

Growing up alone, self sufficient- She probably had to grow a bit fast (even if she indulges in childish things with Bonbon). She quickly started repressing all fears, all questions of her decision to run away. I imagine she's actually insecure in her abilities, how Bon deserves more capable people in their life, how she doesn't really know anything and how she literally got frozen and Bonnie had to fend for themselves- After Bon comes back, she's so filled with admiration and adoration for her little sibling. They really went to the ends of the earth and saved the world. What a brave little sibling she has.

The new family kind of... Feels like a threat to her title as sister at the start. All 5 of them saved a country. The people Bonnie met are strong, knowledgeable, been all over the world- She's glad they protect Bonnie. She just wishes she had something to offer. It takes her a little while to realize they are also there for her too.

I was ranting to a friend, and I am pretty sure we know Nil would like to travel after everything. Being able to explore her more child like fantasies, with the safety blanket that is the family- It means a lot to her. She gets to truly indulge in living and letting loose and depending on people for the first time in her life.

Afterwards tho... I like to imagine she would settle down. It takes a while, but she likes having a place to call her own. And so we talked about how she would probably have a ranch of some sort. I like to imagine she'd love having horses. A way for her to remain free spirited, while taking care of creatures and having the security of a place to rest at the end of the day. And if she chooses, she can go wherever she wants with those bad boys!

My friend mentioned they might have goats or sheep or chicken, and I'm all aboard for that too. I'm not settled on the idea of a farm life for her, but I like it.

Also if I dare pull a Dreaming One for a second- Bonnie and Sif are like little siblings to her, Mira is like a twin (or relatively same aged), Isa is like an older brother, and Odile the everlasting grandma.

ALRIGHT THAT TOOK A WHILE-

Sorry, I started drawing her for fun and just started BRAINROTTING about her out of nowhere.

I still have little doodle ideas but this was already getting so lengthy so I am going to leave it here, and maybe return another day.

I just deeply wanted to establish Nil as her own character who can fit within the group's dynamic and belong in the family. While she very much IS Bonnie's sister and that's such a big part of her, I wanted to expand her a little further.

If you took the time to read, THANK YOU. I HOPE YOU LIKE HER, AND THAT YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL REST OF YOUR DAY

P.S. IF YOU DRAW OR WRITE WITH HER I BEG YOU TO TAG ME

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (31)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: sex content, sexual tension, smut, angst, swearing ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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She couldn't believe it, but the measter left her with no illusions − after weeks filled with fear and prayers, a miracle had happened and she was expecting a child.

She knew it was a blessing from the heavens, that some women waited months or even years for their offspring.

She thought with joy that it was a sign that the gods were supporting them and their cause.

That they also did not desire war.

It seemed to her that, despite everything that had happened, her mother was also reassured and pleased by this information − by the thought that perhaps she would give birth to a son who could be declared heir to the throne and bring a solution that would at least partially satisfy all sides.

The only person who was not pleased by this news was Jace. He was the only one not to congratulate her, and at the common table he pretended not to see her, speaking only to his betrothed.

She realised that their mother, while protecting him all her life, had at the same time weakened him, allowing him to remain immature deep inside while maintaining a semblance of masculinity.

She decided, however, that it no longer mattered.

She eagerly awaited her husband's return, wanting to convey this wonderful news to him in person − she wished to see his reaction and enjoy the moment with him. She gushed with delight when one morning her servant announced that a message had arrived from Harrenhal, hoping that she would read in it when she would see him again.

Her anger at him was now completely passed, replaced by longing and desire to be reunited.

She unrolled the parchment, chewing on the piece of bread she had just had in her mouth, and began to read.

I reached Harrenhal however, unfortunately, I found the fortress empty. Lord Strong escaped with several spies − we are still searching for them. In accordance with your will, I have spared Alys Rivers' life and locked her in her chamber. I cannot predict when I will be able to return to Dragonstone. I ask your forgiveness for not fulfilling my duty as your husband and not being by your side. Aemond

She swallowed hard, feeling a twinge of discomfort and grief in her guts at the thought that the matter was not yet closed and there was no way of knowing when it would be.

The thought of further separation devastated her.

This made her come up with an idea that her mother did not approve of.

"No. You are carrying your child inside you, I will not let you fly to Harrenhal. It's too dangerous." She communicated to her clearly, shaking her head.

She pressed her lips together at her words, feeling her heart pounding fast.

"The journey to Harrenhal is not long. Who would attack me in the sky? My husband has informed me that the fortress is empty. I will be safe there. He is there to prove his loyalty to me and you."

Daemon chuckled at her words, shifting from foot to foot, amused.

"He's fixing something he destroyed himself. If he had said what he knows instead of playing with us, I would have taken care of the matter myself, and Larys Strong's head would have greeted visitors to Harrenhal on a spike." He said coldly, staring at her expectantly. She looked at him in disbelief, wondering if this was what they were discussing then, on the seashore.

Daemon knew of what was about to happen to them and Aemond had thwarted his plans.

She swallowed hard at the thought.

"I…−"

"− I'll fly with you −" She heard Baela's voice and raised her gaze to her, surprised. Jace moved beside her uneasily.

"− what are you doing? −"

"− I've never seen Harrenhal − I'll make sure my cousin got there safely, rest a day or two in the fortress and return to Dragonstone −" Baela said without heeding her betrothed's impatient, furtive gaze.

Rhaenyra pressed her lips together, turning her head away, clearly frustrated that her daughter wanted to leave her family home, which she felt was the safest place possible for her.

"− if you lose this child −"

"− I won't lose it − I'll look out for myself − it'll be easier for me to calm down when I'm by his side knowing what's happening −" She explained, looking at her with a certainty from which her mother sighed heavily.

She and Baela set off before dawn the next day. Her mother hugged her tightly, tears in her eyes at the thought that her child was leaving her again.

"− watch out for yourself − you are my only daughter −" She muttered with regret and pulled away, placing a lingering, warm, tender motherly kiss on her forehead.

She glanced at Daemon, who stood in the distance − he was looking at her with his chin raised high, as proud and filled with mockery as always. He nodded as if he accepted her choice, the fact that she had done what he demanded.

She had made a manly decision with all its consequences.

She was her husband's wife.

Flying in the skies alongside Baela and Moondancer, she wondered why she had never done this before; her cousin's dragoness was as beautiful and agile as Larax, her scales shining wonderfully in the light of the rising sun.

She was grateful to Baela for offering to fly with her − her company calmed her and gave her strength, a sense that she wasn't treating her like a traitor, that she was trying to understand her and help her as much as she could.

She thought with pain that if she had opened her heart to her earlier, they would have been close friends for years.

She hoped in her mind that they would make up for lost time when at last the succession issue would be finally resolved.

When peace would reign.

The journey to Harrenhal on the dragon's back proved to be quick and pleasant − they landed just outside the fortress when the sun was already lazily rising in the sky.

She couldn't stop the wide smile that appeared on her face, the rapid pounding of her heart or the trembling of her hands as she slid from her saddle and saw her husband step out of the stronghold gates to meet them, looking at her from afar.

She felt what she had experienced when she saw him for the first time after eight years then, in the courtyard of the Red Keep, when he was duelling with Criston Cole.

She wanted to run to him, throw herself into his arms and whisper how much she missed him.

This time he didn't turn away, and she didn't hold back.

She laughed as she felt her legs begin to carry her forward on their own, her body filled with warm affection and emotion at the sight of his pain-filled disbelief.

As she fell into his arms, as she smelled his familiar scent again, she felt his hands catch her under her hips and lift her high. She threw her arms around his neck, her legs entwined around his waist as their lips came out to meet each other, locking in a sticky, messy, hot kiss from which they both sighed quietly.

She squirmed when she felt his tongue slide deep into her mouth, rubbing her palate, her walls clenched greedily as his throbbing manhood slapped against her lower abdomen, betraying how great his longing actually was.

She pulled away from him, breathing loudly as he did, wanting to look at him and noticed his hazy, dark gaze filled with desire, his lips, puffy from their caresses parted.

She sighed when his broad hand stroked her head and pressed her forehead against his, only to have their lips join again a moment later in a soft, warm kiss with a loud click of their saliva.

Only after a moment did she remember that she had not come alone.

She grunted quietly, pulling away from him − her husband glanced sideways and furrowed his brow, setting her back down on the ground, clearly unhappy with what he saw before him.

Their cousin stood a few steps behind her, smiling at her uncle with feigned affection and mockery, from which his lips pressed together in a thin line.

"Baela accompanied me on the journey for my safety. Mother did not want me to fly to Harrenhal alone." She said quickly, wanting to calm the situation and what was surely just going on inside his head.

She saw him glance at her quickly at her words, as if surprised. He hummed under his breath and nodded − his expression softened, as if he recognised that this was indeed the right decision.

"I am grateful to you for your sacrifice, cousin. I will order a chamber to be prepared for you." He announced coolly and matter-of-factly − their cousin nodded, still smiling.

She knew she was trying to bring him out of balance, but there was nothing she could do with it.

As one of the servants took Baela to her quarters, her husband looked at her and licked his lower lip with his tongue, as if he was thinking deeply about something.

"− I must speak to you in private −"

"− I need to speak to you too −" She said cheerfully.

She was so eager to share this joyful news with him.

She closed the door behind her as soon as they crossed the threshold of his chamber, ready to tell him, but he grabbed her violently by the shoulder and turned her towards him, slamming her back against the wall.

She squealed when his lips pressed against hers as if he wanted to devour her, his tongue invading deep into her throat with his loud sigh on the edge of pain and relief.

"− w-wait − uncle − I must −" She mumbled as his hand clamped down impatiently on her breasts and his hips began to rub against her stomach − his manhood was all hard and swollen beneath his breeches, and the very thought made her feel the wonderful, familiar wetness between her thighs.

"− were you touching yourself? −" He breathed out into her mouth, as if he was in amok and hadn't heard her words, his hands trailing from her hair, down her neck, to her breasts and buttocks, as if he couldn't decide what he wanted to feel more, what he longed for so much.

"− I − y-yes − gods, Aemond −" She gasped in pleasure as one of his hands slid deep between her thighs − his fingers dug into her womanhood hidden beneath the fabric of her breeches, teasing and squeezing it, making her nipples harden all over with desire.

Only a sigh escaped her lips as he turned her with her face against the wall, his moist tongue running over her thrill-warmed neck, his twitching cock pressed against the place between her buttocks.

"− me too − every day −" He hummed into her ear, untying her breeches with his long, nimble fingers − she involuntarily pressed her cheek against the wall understanding and desiring whatever was about to happen, her fleshy insides clenching desperately around nothing.

"− morning and evening − thinking of this tight little cunt −" He gasped with delight, running his fingertips over her soft, plushy folds as he spoke the words, satisfied apparently that she was completely ready for him.

"− as always sticky and warm for her husband − hm? −" He hummed, sliding her breeches down with a single, sure flick of his hand.

She swallowed hard, feeling her thighs and what was between them being enveloped by the cool air of the room, her heart thumping like mad as she heard him try to deal with the material of his garment behind her back, his hot breath teasing her neck again and again.

"− yes − ah −" She mumbled when she felt him grab her with his arm around her waist and pull her hips closer, forcing her to buck her buttocks and bend over.

Pathetic, helpless moan broke from her throat when she felt how swollen the head of his cock was, with what difficulty he tried to force it between her slick, hot, puffy walls.

"− fuck − fuck −" He exhaled, with impatient thrusts of his hips invading deeper and deeper into her warm core, spreading her open on his fat erection.

She gasped, clenching her eyes shut, trying to keep her balance by leaning against the wall in front of her and fit what he was trying to force into her − she thought in disbelief that it seemed more swollen to her than usual, she could feel exactly every vein of it rubbing again and again the wonderful spot inside her.

"− why is it − so big − o-oh, gods −" She mewled, moaning like a mere whore as he began to pound into her without any warning, opening her wide again and again on his throbbing cock with loud splats of his thighs against her buttocks.

She felt her wetness run down her thighs − she knew he had seen it because she heard his low groan of pleasure.

"− and what do you think − fuck, Rhaenys, I'm not going to pull it out of you tonight −" He breathed out, leaning forward, slamming into her again and again as brutally and quickly as if he'd lost his mind − he leaned one of his hands against the wall just above her head, the other clenching at the same time on her hip, forcing her to take what he was giving her.

She clenched her hands into fists, feeling the tickling, hot sensation building up in her lower abdomen at a startlingly rapid pace, her hips involuntarily beginning to respond to his thrusts, meeting him halfway, clenching around his manhood, refusing to let him go.

Her nipples swelled wonderfully as she felt him press his face against her hair, as if he was drawn to her scent, groaning and panting along with her, thrusting into her so fast and deep that he was hardly sliding out of her.

"− let me, Rhaenys − let me, let me, let me −" He uttered with a heavy breath, and she felt that it was over for her − her body shook with a wonderful, tickling shudder that she felt in her mouth, in her fingertips, in her nipples and in her weeping cunt, which began to suck him inside her in an fulfilment so strong that for a moment she saw darkness before her eyes. She heard his surprised gasp of pleasure, followed by his loud sigh of relief.

She felt his hot seed fill her womb again, his hips rocking inside her for a moment longer, his face pressed into her neck, as if he wanted to prolong this wonderful moment.

They both couldn't catch their breath, panting and quivering, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, keeping her from slipping to the stone floor.

"− Rhaenys −" He whispered, and she sighed quietly, smiling involuntarily, tired and fulfilled.

"− hm? −"

"− stay wtih me −"

She swallowed hard and pressed her lips together into a thin line, for some reason feeling a squeeze in her throat, a wonderful elation at the thought that he craved her presence so much, that he missed her as much as she missed him.

"− I will, my love −" She hummed and heard him sigh in relief, his lips placing a soft, warm kiss on her neck.

"− what did you want to convey to me? − your mother has another condition? −" He asked reluctantly, as if he didn't want to bother himself with this topic, having her at his fingertips again. She smiled at his question, placing her hand on his arm, with which he embraced her at the waist.

Her heart sang with joy.

"− I'm carrying your child −"

She felt him freeze behind her, his breath caught in his throat.

"− what? −" He muttered, as if he thought he had overheard himself and needed her to say those wonderful words again.

She smiled under her breath feeling that, for the first time in months, happiness and hope filled her. With a soft movement, she grabbed his wrist and gently placed his hand on her lower abdomen, pressing it against her bare skin. She heard him swallow loudly, taken aback in disbelief.

"− you're going to be a father, uncle −" She hummed, turning to face him over her shoulder − her breath caught in her throat when she heard him laugh.

It was not a mocking or cold sound, more an expression of joyful disbelief, there was a warmth and happiness in his gaze from which she felt moved.

She felt the tips of his fingertips dig into the soft skin of her stomach, his lips found hers in a greedy, wet, deep kiss, his half-soft manhood pulsed deep inside her again.

"− Rhaenys − oh gods − this must be a dream −" He breathed out into her mouth, slipping his slick tongue deep into her throat, panting with delight − her walls squeezed him tight with pleasure as she felt him involuntarily begin to root into her again with the tentative, soft thrusts of his hips.

"− then it is a good dream −" She whispered tenderly into his mouth and he murmured loudly, saying no more.

This time, knowing she was expecting his child, he took her to his bed, wanting to look at her face and what he was doing to her, panting into her mouth at how much she pleased him, how well she did, already carrying his offspring in her womb.

He pulled their garments off of them, ripping his eye patch from his face, wanting to be vulnerable with her, wanting to be exposed with her.

She knew what she was to him at that moment.

A dragon egg that had cracked.

As his swollen manhood pushed against her moist slit again, he slid into her with ease, slowly and unhurriedly this time, merely rocking his hips back and forth inside her, making her lips part in delight at how gentle and tender the experience was.

His cheek snuggled into her hair and his face sank into the pillow under her head as if he didn't want her to see the expression on his face, how much pleasure he was getting from this soft intimacy.

They both moaned shyly as he slowly began to accelerate his pace, each time slapping his bare skin against her buttocks − her lips placed soft, butterfly kisses on his bare shoulder and neck, her hands ran down his back and buttocks making his soaked cock pulsate impatiently deep inside her.

"− I've missed you −" She whispered, answered by his low sigh, his hand blindly finding her breast and squeezing it lightly, as if the sensation of that plump, soft structure under his fingers gave him a sense of security and reassured him.

"− me too −" He muttered so quietly that she barely heard him, a lazy smile filled with happiness spread across her face as she closed her eyes and let herself drift off.

When it was all over, her husband, all breathless and sweaty, laid his head on her womb, facing her, looking down at her belly, running the tips of his fingers over it as if he was thinking about what was hiding under her skin.

"− how did you find out? − are you absolutely sure? −" He whispered, as if doubts were beginning to invade him, as if he feared it was too beautiful to be true. She sighed quietly at his words, the smile never leaving her face.

"− I fainted and was examined by the maester − I am sure −"

At her words her uncle furrowed his brow, raising the gaze of his healthy eye at her, his sapphire shone dangerously in the sunlight.

"− you fainted? −"

"− yes − I despaired because I didn't know when or if I would see you again −" She mumbled in embarrassment, combing his long, snow-white hair with her fingers. He closed his eye and murmured contentedly, opening his eyelid again after a moment.

"− if you had only written to me − I would have flown to Dragonstone immediately −"

"− I was afraid my message would fall into the wrong hands − I didn't want to take the risk −"

Her husband hummed at her words.

"− wise girl −"

She smiled, letting him place a warm, moist kiss on the skin of her lower abdomen.

"− I have a gift for you −" He murmured, running his fingers over the hot skin of her stomach. She looked at him, surprised, her heart beating harder in excitement.

"What's it?" She asked, curious.

"I give Harrenhal into your possession. I hand it over to you in my letter, which I have already sent to King's Landing. The fortress is your property until your death. It will then fall as a inheritance to our offspring."

She blinked, twisting in her place, looking at him in disbelief. Seeing that he grinned, she covered her mouth and giggled like a little girl, unable to contain the joy and warmth that spread through her body.

"Do you mean it?" She mumbled, unable to believe that he could do such a thing without consulting his brother and mother.

That he had made this decision alone.

Her husband hummed under his breath, trailing his fingers from her lower abdomen to her chest making goosebumps appear in the places he ran over her bare skin.

"You are your father's daughter. This is your legacy." He replied, his wide hand stroking her belly with a tenderness from which shivers ran through her.

"And my brothers?" She muttered, reminding herself that, after all, her father, although she didn't know him very well, had sons too. Her uncle smirked at her in a way that was disturbing, to say the least.

"I don't give a shit about your brothers." He sneered, making her swallow hard, wrinkling her eyebrows but unable to hide the smile of amusement from which his face lit up.

"You're cruel." She mumbled, stroking his hand lying on her womb with her fingers, softening her words and their overtones in the process. Her husband snorted at her words.

"I am. I am a walking cruelty." He whispered maliciously before he lifted himself on his hands, moving towards her, leaning over her face − his tongue invaded deep between her lips with his hum as his mouth pressed against hers in a loud, sticky, messy kiss.

She squirmed as his fingers slid from her womb between her thighs, warningly beginning to tease and squeeze her sore bud, puffy from earlier caresses and fulfillments.

"− uncle −" She mewled weakly into his mouth, feeling the wonderful tickle in her lower abdomen again, tentatively parting her thighs apart, his half-hard erection slapping impatiently against her belly, demanding her attention.

"− I warned you −" He exhaled, shifting the weight of his body to his elbow, spreading her legs apart with his knee. "− open −"

She obeyed his command obediently and whimpered loudly with exertion as she felt him try to force his long, throbbing manhood into her again with the impatient thrust of his hips.

She threw her head back as he finally broke between her oversensitive, swollen walls, pulsing around him in panic, her short nails digging into the sweaty skin of his back as he began to sink into her again, panting with pleasure.

She felt her moisture mingled with his seed ran down her buttocks.

"− too much −" She mumbled out, moaning each time he teased the sore, swollen spot deep inside her again, trying to pull out of him at the same time and bucking her hips in response to his thrusts, feeling both the discomfort and the wonderful, tickling pleasure shaking her body.

"− shhh − I know − we'll take it slow − there's no reason to rush −" He whispered tenderly, placing comforting, soft, warm kisses on her face, leaning on one forearm, his other hand stroking her effort-warmed cheek, as if trying to give her reassurance.

"− I warned you − I warned you that I wouldn't pull it out of you today − didn't I? − is your husband lying? −" He cooed, as if he were speaking to a small, frightened child. She shook her head, struggling to fit him deep inside her again and again, feeling his thighs hit her buttocks with loud splats of their shared wetness.

"− n-no − no, husband −" She mumbled, looking up at him pleadingly, running her hand over his scarred cheek, her puffy lips parted in heavy breaths. He gasped with satisfaction at her words, pressing his forehead against hers, with slow, deep thrusts making his way to his next fulfilment.

"− just like that − let me do my duty to my wife − as many times − ah − as necessary −" He exhaled, quickening his pace, swollen and already completely hard deep inside her, slamming into her with greedy, sure thrusts from which she felt like she was losing touch with reality, the chamber around them, the bed she lay on seemed blurred to her, she could only smell his scent, only feel the strong grip of his hands.

"− g-gods, Aemond −’" She mumbled out, feeling the way his bare chest pressed against hers with his low groan of satisfaction, her nipples rubbing against his exposed skin with his every push making his cock pulsate aggressively inside her with pleasure, intensifying her sensation.

She gasped when she felt him grab her thigh and lift her leg higher, putting her knee on his shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

"− uncle, what are you − o-oh, fuck, uncle, uncle, uncle, uncle −" She whined out, tilting her head back with her lips parted in disbelief, her eyes closed with her loud, shameless moans as she felt him like never before, his entire length pressing wonderfully against a place inside her with each of his thrusts, from which her body quivered all over with pleasure, writhing before him.

Nothing more than a babble and a plea left her lips as he watched her in awe, not slowing his pace, placing hot, sticky kisses on her knee, stroking her thigh with his wide hand, panting loudly along with her.

Something like a smirk of satisfaction flashed across his face as she threw her other leg over his shoulder on the other side of his head, his body leaning over her in such a way that she could in no way escape his brutal thrusts, which again and again teased the intensely oversensitive spot inside her.

"− I can't − I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, p-please −" She cried out, but her husband didn't stop, bringing her to a state where pleasure different than usual took her speechless − she felt a sudden, wonderful relief, her walls began to squeeze and suck him inside her, she heard him hiss quietly, clearly feeling what she was feeling.

He groaned low as he came a moment later, clenching his eye, panting hard and swallowing loudly as he looked down at the sheets beneath them, under which a huge wet spot had formed.

"− did I hurt you? or the baby? −" He exhaled horrified, thinking that perhaps she had miscarried due to his brutal treatment, however there was no blood after all. She shook her head, rising on her elbow, struggling to collect her thoughts, panting loudly, her body quivering all over.

"− no − b-but − this time − it was different − I mean − my fulfilment was different − and then I felt...this −" She muttered in shame, feeling that her whole buttocks were wet. Her uncle swallowed hard at her words, embarrassed, his lips tightened into a thin line as he looked at their sticky bodies.

"− I − I think I read about it − in one of the books −" He said uncertainly and grunted softly, sliding out of her gently with a click of their shared wetness. She hissed quietly, pulling away and noticed a large, colourless stain under her buttocks, as if someone had poured water there.

"− the maester wrote in it that a woman is also able to − well − come as well as a man if she is properly… teased inside −" He hummed, licking his lower lip involuntarily, looking at the stain beneath them as if he was proud of his achievement.

She raised her eyebrows in amusement and giggled involuntarily, feeling some kind of relief.

"− what kind of books do you read, uncle? − what would your mother and Ser Criston say? −" She sneered, smiling broadly. Her husband threw her a frustrated look, which however softened after a moment, his grimace turning into a mischievous smirk.

"− in the same book I also read about this position − after I became your husband I began to delve into the mysteries of these…sensations − what else can I do with you −" He murmured, running his index finger along her thigh, a glint of satisfaction and contentment in his eye from which she sighed heavily.

She leaned back and made herself comfortable on the bedding, shifting her body closer to him so that she wasn't lying on a wet spot. Her uncle leaned on his elbow, watching her intently in silence − they stared at each other for a moment, with only the rustle of leaves and birdsong outside the open window around them.

"− I'd like to rest now −" She muttered, running her knuckles over his bare chest. Her husband hummed quietly under his breath and nodded, his broad hand stroking her head.

"− sleep − rest after the journey −" He murmured, combing his fingers through her hair the way he had when they were children. She closed her eyes and purred softly when she felt him lay his head beside her, his gaze on her face, his warm breath enveloping her cheek as his free hand covered their naked bodies with warm furs.

"− do not fret − your husband is by your side now −"

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Author note: Those who were to know know. I promised you, didn't I? Hehehe. 👀👀👀👀👀

[dix0nvix3n]

𖤓°⋆ Chapter 1 °⋆𖤓

⋆☀︎｡Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader  ⋆☀︎｡Media: The Walking Dead; No Apocalypse & Alternate Universe ⋆☀︎｡Pronouns: She/Her  ⋆☀︎｡ Warning: Smoking (Cigarettes), One mention of weed, Talk of a bad past relationship. (That's it I think?) ⋆☀︎｡ Word Count: 2.5k

⋆☀︎｡ Author's Note: It's finally here... the beginning of my magnum opus. Even though I only have this one chapter out, there hasn't been a single day since I came up with the idea for the fic where I didn't think about it at least once. I just wanna thank all the people who let me infodump about it; y'all are true soldiers, cause I can really ramble on. Special thanks to @sinkdownbeneath for helping me write the intro because I was completely stuck for months with almost nothing to show, and being the person who let me yap the most, he can account for me pretty much talking about it every day for the past five months. So, anyway, I guess I hope y'all like my first finished something that wasn't just a blurb. Last night I only had a little over 200 words at 10 PM something, and now it's 7:44 AM with 2.5k words as I write this... I don't know what got into me, but anyway, enjoy!

June 1st, 1992

Daryl finds himself propped up against a tree, catching his breath. The cool summer air around him makes his chest ache with every breath he takes. He had been running, hearing the twigs snap and the leaves crunch beneath his feet as he darted past every tree, trying to evade potential capture from a party that had him jumping out a window when the cops showed up due to a noise complaint.

He spent much of his life within the comfort of the woodland, underneath the thick canopy of leaves and branches, the first roof he ever felt safe under.

He gasped for air, his legs exhausted and his lungs overworked, adrenaline still pulsing through him as he slid down the rough bark of a tree, pulling his legs up to his chest.

He's close to the road, hearing a solitary car cruise past. He can tell it's late from the stars that peek through the leaves that loom above him in the thick black sky, but he spots his glimmer of hope, which seems to be the soft light of a gas station just a bit beyond the road's traffic barrier closest to him.

With a deep inhale, Daryl knew he had to walk to the gas station and reluctantly call for a ride in a phone booth.

After fully catching his breath, he pulled himself off the ground and began walking towards the gas station, already dreading the thought of the phone call.

Reaching the gas station, he saw two cars; one belonged to the lone worker at the cash register inside, and the other belonged to a woman smoking a cigarette at the side of the building. The woman did a quick wave at him, which he found to be a little odd just because most people at this time of night aren't too friendly, but he gave a polite wave back anyway. 

Finally getting up to the phone booth, Daryl looked down at his watch, which read 1:00 AM, causing him to let out a deep sigh, realizing how late it was and how much of an inconvenience it would be for someone to come and pick him up. 

He stepped inside the phone booth, staring at the phone for a minute before popping in the quarters he luckily grabbed from the living room floor of the party. If he hadn't grabbed them, he'd be completely fucked and have to figure out his way back to his apartment.

After dialing the number he knew would pick up, the phone rang just a few times before a tired and clearly just woken up by a phone at one in the morning voice picked up.

"Hey, Mr. H... Could ya pick me up?"

"Thanks. 'm sorry about this; kinda just started walking and didn't stop. Ended up at some party, and now I don' know where I am."

"Yeah. Place is called Peachy Speed, never seen another gas station called this; it must be family-owned or somethin' and the closest road sign says it's on Navel Street. You know where I'm at?"

"Okay, cool. See ya in a bit. Sorry again."

After hanging up, Daryl stepped out of the phone booth with his head held down, letting out a deep exhale and running a hand through his hair until he heard a pair of feet shuffling up to him.

He looked up to see who it was, and it was you, the woman who waved at him.

"Need one?" You held out an open pack of Marlboro Reds, with only one cigarette missing from the pack.

"Oh. Yeah. Thanks." His thoughts stuttered for a moment because he was caught up in the fact that you came over to him. You're really pretty, and now Daryl feels like a nervous schoolboy trying to ask a girl to the prom just because of a simple gesture.

He grabbed a cigarette out of the box and reached to pull his lighter out of his pocket, only not to feel it, and checked the other pocket to have the same luck. "Shit."

You let out a small chuckle. "Need a light too?” You pulled a lighter out of your pocket and handed it over to him.

He nodded his thanks and popped the cig in his mouth before lifting the black bic with a spiderweb seemingly hand-painted on up to the end of the stick. Flicking the flame to life, he took a long inhale and handed you back the lighter, as he really took a moment to take in the sight of you. 

You were in a black tank top tucked into a pair of black ripped jean shorts. Under the pair of jean shorts were fishnets with an intricate pattern of moons and stars, and you had on a pair of slightly battered-up Doc Martens. 

As he exhaled the first plume of smoke into the night sky, he saw your kind smile, which sent a rush of warmth through his face. Your lips had a simple gloss on them, but your eyes were a different story, painted with smokey eyeshadow, sharp graphic eyeliner, and two rounds of mascara on each set of your top lashes. He also noticed the simple yet pretty titanium stud on the left side of your nose and two helix rings on both your ears.

He thought you were gorgeous, his heartbeat a slightly faster pace than what it normally rested at.

"Rough night?" You asked as you lit up a cigarette for yourself, letting out a slight gag at the taste and smell that you weren't used to, which caused Daryl to let out a small chuckle.

"Sorta. More of just hated the fact I had to call and wake someone up to come and get me. First time smokin'?" He said before he took another drag.

"How'd you know?" You said sarcastically as your face contorted in disgust a bit at the taste building up in your mouth and throat after each puff.

"Maybe try a different brand. You'll find one ya like." A small smile graced his lips as he butted off the ash at the end and took another drag. 

"Nah. Think I'm quitting after this one. I'll just stick to weed."

He let out a chuckle. "May I ask, why'd ya even start?"

You let out a small groan, running your hand through your hair in slight embarrassment. "I finally left my shitty boyfriend once and for all. I finally realized he'd never like me for the real me. I constantly had to put on this mask around him, and I finally found out that it was impossible to fix him and the fact he didn't actually like me. I know it sounds weird, but I guess my thought process was that my epiphany about him would stick with me after smoking one like a character in a movie or something." You let out a laugh. "Stupid, right?" 

He snubbed out the end of the cigarette, as it was almost a roach at this point. "Nah, it ain't stupid. A lot of my best thoughts come after smokin' one, cleared my head more times than I can count. You deserve one after the bullshit he put you through, I think. Hope the prick is havin' a shit night after realizin' he's lost you cause ya seem awesome to me so far."

You felt warmth begin to rise in your cheeks at his words. "Thanks. I know I deserve better. I'm just pissed; it took me so long to realize it. So, anyway, what's your name? I can't believe I haven't asked yet."

"Name's Daryl; what's yours?"

You had a few good puffs left of your cig but decided to snub yours out as well since you didn't like it anyway. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Daryl. My name is (Y/N). Do you wanna come sit with me at my spot against the wall? My most likely melted slushy is calling my name to get this taste out of my mouth." 

"Yeah, I can. Might be a bit till my ride gets here, so I might as well sit down." He started walking to your spot, and you followed in tow. 

When you got back to your spot, you looked down at your slushy on the ground. The dark purple concoction of blue raspberry and cherry slushy combo was completely melted. "Goddammit." You didn't fully care though; you paid for that slushy, because you were stubborn it meant you were going to have all of what you paid for, so you drank down the rest of the sugary liquid with a satisfied sigh. It was luckily still cold, at least, and it was just what you needed to get the taste of the cigarette out of your mouth.

As time passed, you and Daryl talked about whatever came to mind as you doodled some intricate pattern on the front of the pack of the Marlboro Reds with a sharpie, ultimately moving to the back when you ran out of room. You found out that he works as a mechanic for motorcycles and cars at a nearby auto body shop, that he rides a motorcycle that he built himself a few years ago, that he loves to hunt on occasion, specifically with a crossbow, and that he ran from the cops at a house party tonight.

You knew your short time with Daryl was up when you saw a 1987 Ford Sierra MK2 pull into a parking spot at the gas station, and Daryl stood up, doing a quick stretch. The man in the car smiled and made a small wave at you, and you did the same back.

"It was nice meetin' ya, (Y/N). I'd talk more, but I don't wanna keep him up any longer." He said as he gestured a hand towards the man who came to pick him up. 

"It was nice meeting you too. Thanks for talking to me, Daryl." You pulled the pack of cigarettes from your pocket and held them out to him. "Take these. You need them more than me. Plus, I just quit." You grinned at him as he took the box from you. 

"Holy shit, thank you." He smiled back as he placed the box in his own pocket and slowly started walking backward towards the car. "Hope ya have a good night and that Nick the dick has a shit one. 

You let out a laugh at the nickname Daryl gave your ex-boyfriend and waved him goodbye with a "You too." You leaned your head back against the wall, staring up at the night sky as your eyes finally began to feel tired, knowing you should head back to your friend's apartment soon and try and get some sleep before your nine AM shift. 

Once Daryl got in the car, he let out a quiet sigh as he looked out the window at you, wishing he dared to ask for your number. You were the first good conversation he'd had in a while, and his schoolboy-like crush on you kept growing the whole time you talked.

"So, who's that?" The man said as he shifted the car into gear, Daryl noticing the grin on his face.

"A girl that started talkin' to me after our call. Name's (Y/N)." He pulled the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, mindlessly tracing the pattern of doodles you did.

"You ask for her number? The car was now beginning to be backed out of its parking spot.

"Nah. Mind if I smoke?" Daryl shook the pack and began looking for one of the lighters he left in the glove compartment a few weeks ago. 

The man shook his head with a slight sigh and said, "Go ahead." He wasn't shaking his head over Daryl wanting to smoke, but over the fact he wouldn't ask for your number when he obviously liked you, but he knew he couldn't push him; he understood Daryl's nature.

Daryl looked back out the window at you, opening it as he blew out the first cloud of smoke. He then looked back down in his lap where the box lay, flipping it over to the back to see what you had drawn there as well. His breath hitched as he saw it. On the back was your phone number, and above it said, "Call me" with a smiley face. 

The tips of Daryl's ears were beet red, and he tried to hold back his face from turning the same color. He looked back out the window at you to see you grinning at him this time, to which he smiled and waved goodbye to you as the car pulled out of the lot. In Daryl's twenty-three years of life, he could say that this night was one of his best.

"Daryl, why'd you call me Mr. H again? Son, you've known me for five years; how many times do I gotta remind you to call me by my name? It's Dale for you."

Daryl let out a small cloud of smoke this time, wanting to savor this one on the peaceful ride back. "I'll tell ya again, it happens when I'm nervous; didn't wanna wake you up, s'all, and you still are my boss after all."

"Daryl, you're like a son to me, and I told you to never be nervous if you need help, and that includes coming and picking you up in the middle of the night if needed. I'm here for you." Dale placed his right hand on Daryl's shoulder, keeping his left on the wheel as he squeezed his shoulder lightly before returning it to the steering wheel.

"Now, it's not Mr. H or Mr. Horvath, son. It's Dale."

Daryl rolled his eyes playfully. "Yes, sir," he joked, letting out a chuckle.

It was the next day around 10:30 PM when Daryl picked up the phone on his nightstand and finally called the number you gave him, nervously wrapping the cord around his finger. The phone only rang twice before the other end picked up, "Hey, is this (Y/N)?" 

The inner teenage girl in your brain screamed in excitement, so happy that he finally called. "Omg, Daryl! I was wondering when you were gonna call me. I've been waiting since I got off my shift."

"Didn't know if you worked a mornin' shift or got off at night, and I didn't wanna leave too many voicemails on your friend's phone."

"Yeah, I worked a morning shift at the diner today. I got off at five. Morning shifts are the fucking worst." You're lying on your stomach on the couch, playfully curling the phone's cord around your finger and kicking your feet back and forth in the air.

You and Daryl talked for an hour, mainly talking about the shitty customers you dealt with today, sounding especially frustrated about the woman who yelled at you just because the diner was out of unsweet tea that you couldn't do anything about because the place was also out of tea bags to make more. What did she want you to do? Just up and leave your job and go buy the tea bags, your fucking self?

"Even though I don't want to, I gotta go to bed 'cause I have another morning shift tomorrow. I get off at five, so call me around six-thirty, okay?" 

"I get off at five too. Works for me. Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight to you too, Daryl."

The call ended, and you both looked up at your respective ceilings, smiling as warmth bloomed through your faces. You both slept well that night, falling asleep to the thought of calling each other tomorrow.

⋆☀︎｡ Extra author's note: Here's what Dale would look like in 1992, I took Dale's age of 64 from the show since the apocalypse started in 2010 so he'd be 46 in 1992. I think this picture of Jeffrey Demunn is from when he was 43 maybe? I can't remember but that's close enough to 46 and even if he isn't 43 in the image he fits the look of someone in their mid-forties. Just imagine him without the cowboy hat, okay? There's not a lot of pictures of him when he was younger.

⋆☀︎｡ Taglist: @mrdixon , @yevmarie , and @shadowcitrine

⋆☀︎｡ Divider creds: @ saradika, go check her account out! She has some very cute dividers!

[callsign-relic]

HI RELIC I’M GLAD YOU’RE BACK!!!!

If requests are open, might I suggest a sequel to the first contact Shockwave fic or the ‘Drift and Ratchet find an injured human’ fic?

Alternatively, if you’re feeling it, a sfw tasty AU Rodimus fic in which he finds a human hiding in the walls or wherever, takes them, and keeps it a secret from everyone else?

Thank you Tripleglitch!!! You’re my first request after literal months, and I’m happy to have written this for you :) For this request I’ve decided to make a sequel to the first contact Drift and Ratchet fic, which you can find here!

Warnings: SFW, GN!Human!Reader, First Contact AU

The next few moments passed by like a blur to your weary head. You weren’t sure if your lack of vision was from your pounding headache, or from how the giant white mech held you cupped against his chest. The beat of his heart (or whatever his equivalent to a heart was) thudded against you in a gentle rhythm— it seemed to be the only thing keeping you aware enough from passing out entirely.

The only place you could look was up, and all you were met with was the chin of the titan who held you. Occasionally, he would glance down at you with furrowed brows, cooing at you softly in alien tones, but you tore your head away before you could lock eyes. The white mech was kinder than the red one who held you before, sure, but you still felt a pit in your stomach form each time you looked into his piercing blue eyes.

There’s a sound of shifting metal, and suddenly you’re squinting from the intruding light. No longer are you wrapped in the radiating warmth of Drift’s big servos, but you’re placed down onto a cool, stainless steel rolling desk. You fold your legs underneath you and rub at your arms at the sudden drop in temperature, sucking in air through your teeth with each touch to your bruised skin.

Above you, Drift watches. You try not to look.

“Poor thing must be freezing,” Drift’s dermas pout to the side.

“Really?” Ratchet asks, too busy pressing buttons and configuring settings on a scanning machine to look for himself. “How can you tell?”

“It’s shivering,” the samurai gestures a hand towards you, causing you to flinch back, but the mech hardly notices as he addresses the CMO. “Maybe it’s trying to warm itself up.”

“It would make sense,” Ratchet hums from behind the console. “Some organics, the energon that runs through them— it flows at a temperature warm enough that keeps their whole frames warm. If they’re in cold enough conditions, that natural warmth from inside them isn’t enough to keep them warm.”

Drift lets out a small gasp at that. “Then we should hurry! We don’t want it freezing to death.” The samurai hurries to Ratchet’s side, examining the screen the medic was working on. Ratchet lifts his arms at Drift’s sudden intrusion, staring at him bewilderedly— but Drift’s too focused on the console to notice. “Is the scanner ready yet??”

“It would be if you didn’t butt in the way—“ The medic shoves his white plated partner to the side— not very roughly, but still enough to get him out of the way. With a last few swipes to the screen, the scanning machine hums to life. You jump back at the sudden noise, scrambling as far back as you can from the alien mechanism.

Drift notices, moving away from behind the scanner to reach a servo out behind you— prepared to catch you if you happened to make a fall off of the rolling table. But thankfully, you stop just a few relative feet away from the edge. Still, you don’t budge.

“Come on, little one, it’s alright,” Drift urges sweetly, slowly bringing one of his hands up from behind you to push you forwards. You gasp at the sudden contact, a scream tearing through your throat as you push back against the massive hand. You may have been injured, sure, but there was no way you were going to let two gigantic aliens push you into a machine that you had no idea of it what it could do. For all you knew, you were being ferried into your death.

“What’s the matter?” Ratchet asks, peeking his helm out from behind the screen. “Just get it in there, already.”

“I’m trying,” Drift insists, “but it’s fighting back. It doesn’t want to go inside.”

“What does it matter how it’s reacting? Just get it in and it’ll see for itself that it’s fine.”

“Ratchet, we’re trying to gain its trust! Forcing it to do something it doesn’t want to do, safe or not, isn’t the way to do that.”

As the two titans debated above you, the samurai’s white servo inched you ever closer into the machine. You try pushing back, but all of your weight combined isn’t enough to even budge the force of the mech’s hand. The eerie blue glow of the machine rapidly approaching, you close your eyes as you’re pushed inside, bracing for impact.

“Oh,” Drift realizes, pulling his hand away. “They’re inside.”

Blue light washes over you once, then twice, then a third time. Agonizingly slow, with a low, droning hum— you close your eyes, expecting the worst. Only, after those few swipes of the machine’s light… nothing happens. You dare to crack open an eye, and are only met with the lights of the medbay.

“Well, Ratchet? What does it say?” Drift comes to Ratchet’s side once more, optics scanning the scanner’s screen impatiently.

“Just give it a second, there are countless organic species this thing could be, after all.” Ratchet steps to the side a bit, allowing the samurai more space to stand. Or, more accurately, allowing the medic more room for himself to breathe. After a few moments, awaiting in bated breath, the scanner chirps out a beep. The results had come in.

Ratchet leans in, studying the text as it all pours in. “‘Species: human’… ‘planet of origin: earth’… hm, and just how far is that from Cybertr— WHAT?!” The medic’s jaw drops as the scanner answers the question for him— thousands upon thousands of lightyears.

“That far…?” Drift repeats Ratchet’s sentiment, he could hardly believe it himself.

“Then how could it ended up on the ship??” Ratchet continues, looking to you, hugging your knees on the steel table. “I doubt we could have picked it up before our initial launch, but on all the planets we’ve visited this far, I don’t recall seeing any humans…”

“How hardly matters anymore, doc,” Drift replies, stepping out from behind the scanner to approach you once more. You look up at the massive white mech, hesitant still. The samurai gazes down at you with soft optics and furrowed brows, but tries to offer you a little smile all the same. “We have to return it home. The poor thing must be terrified, so far away from its home.”

Ratchet grunts, “Well, I suppose that’s one thing we can agree on. But I’m not certain the other two captains want to change trajectory all for a single human.” Raising a servo to his temple as he steps forward too, the red bot huffs out a small sigh. “We’d go way off course, we’d get further behind on our mission than we already are.”

As Ratchet spoke, Drift lowered his hands down— not grabbing you, only offering them down for you to inspect. Your gaze flicks between Drift’s hands and his face, as if you were waiting for him to jump out at you any moment. But he doesn’t. The spectralist simply waits, watching your every move with patience. Maybe he wanted you to climb on of your own accord, this time?

Despite how every instinct in your body told you no, you swallowed it all down and moved forward anyway. You raise one of your feet, placing it down onto the platform of Drift’s hand. Then you did the same with your other foot. All the way until you were centered in the mech’s palm. Above you, Drift smiles, bringing his other hand beside you to give you a wider platform.

“Well, we’ll just have to try,” Drift declares. Slowly, he starts to raise you up towards his chest, to where Ratchet leans in a little to get a better look at you as well. You back away from the red mech— with how roughly he handled you, you still weren’t sure if you could trust him. “I’m a captain on the ship too, you know. I’m certain Rodimus and Megatron would at least be willing to hear me out.”

Ratchet responds with an unsure hum, focusing his optics down on the little creature Drift carried within his servos. Your eyes widen at the sudden attention, and you quickly turn your head, hoping the medic takes the hint and pulls away his burning gaze. “If they say no, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Drift snorts, “C’mon, doc, who do you take me for? Besides,” and his free servo is raising up again, this time extending a single digit to you. You lean away, staring at it cautiously. You weren’t sure what this meant… but if offering your finger meant the same thing as it did on earth, then, you might as well be polite to the alien who was kindest to you. Tentatively, you place your comparatively tiny hands atop the top of the offered digit, shaking it a little. Drift beams. “We’ll take care of it as long as it’s on the ship.”

“Wha— what do you mean, ‘we’?!” Ratchet leans back, incredulous. But when Drift doesn’t reply, his attention solely focused on you in his hand, the medic’s dermas straighten out to a thin line. “Ugh… you’re killin’ me, kid. Fine. We’ll both watch it.”

Finally, Drift turns his helm, ecstatic. “Really?! Oh, thank you, doc!”

“Yeah, yeah, only cause I wouldn’t trust this thing under anyone else’s watch.” As Drift coos at you, excited to be able to keep you safe, Ratchet’s own gaze flits lazily to you. You notice, looking back up at him, and trying not to squirm away. The medic only sighs, offering you a slight, albeit tired, smile.

“Looks like you’re stuck with us for now, little one.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

You know what I realized. We saw what would have happened if Vil successfully poisoned Neige in Chapter 5. What if for future updates we see a future where Leona sanded Ruggie and trampled Malleus and where Riddle actually killed Ace with the rose trees? Jamil and Azul wouldn’t have blood on their hands though they’d just be ruling over Scarabia and a magic and skill thief.

THE WAY MY JAW DROPPED WHEN I SAW THAT NEIGE HAD FLATLINED 😭 That was honestly one of the scariest parts of book 7 for me so far. Knowing that Vil was driven into a corner to the point where he fully intended to KILL his rival to come out on top with a cheap, hollow victory... It's so gut-wrenching (and incredibly delicious at the same time) 💦

I'm so anxious about what kinds of scenes we'll see for the other OB boys now... Azul may not have gone for anyone's jugular, but Leona and Riddle may have some dark implications or casualties by way of Malleus/Ruggie and Ace, respectively. (The only "good" thing about that is that if Malleus is "dead" in Leona's dream, then that means Malleus can't be physically present as an obstacle to the crew). Also?????? The dorm leaders seem to be woken last within their dorm, meaning by the time we reach Riddle, we'll have Ace "awake" and recruited to our group. KINDA FUCKED THINKING ABOUT HOW ACE MIGHT BE WATCHING AN ALTERNATE VERSION OF HIMSELF DYING IN THE ROSE GARDEN... Leona killing Ruggie is so twisted too????? That would surely fuck with Leona's mental health.... There's always been fan theories about how Leona would have reacted if he actually did sand Ruggie (I've speculated about the idea myself), so it would be so cool to see this realized in the darkest depths of Leona's dream. I'd love to see how he canonically handles it.

I think there's also potential that Jamil might kill Kalim? Since he has a line where he says as long as Kalim as "alive", he will never know peace. I don't know if Jamil had intent to do away with Kalim in book 4, but this could be very real in the darkest parts of his own dream.

[inbarfink]

So when I wrote down that Big Undertale Meta Post about how Sans probably doesn’t remember RESETs at all and why that’s cool - I got a lot of responses to the tune of ‘that’s probably canon but I’m still gonna enjoy Sans Remember fics because of the angst’. And, well... first I want to emphasize that those are very good and correct responses! Like ‘I acknowledge might or might not be in the text but I am also gonna explore alternative ideas Because I Enjoy Them’ is a Good Damn Position to have! Transformative Fandom is Transformative on purpose! Engage with the text and it’s various analyses but don’t let it chain your creativity or fun!

It’s just that… all of the people saying that they prefer Sans Remembering ‘for the Angst’ make me think that maybe folks are kinda ignoring the incredible angst potential of Sans NOT remembering.

My original post focused on how cool it is that Sans manages to be so on-top-of-things even though he doesn’t remember anything - but let’s not ignore the fact that this situation is also grim as shit.

Through some mysterious super-science or whatever, Sans has managed to discover that his timeline is being RESET and altered constantly (before the Player came along, Flowey had already managed to basically 100% the entire Underground) and he has no memory of what's going on and what exactly is being altered. 

He knows he might’ve gone through the same day over and over and over again thousand times but he’s simply not aware of it. It’s all the helplessness and lack of forward momentum of a classic timeloop and none of the benefits of memorizing occurrences or acquiring extra information. That’s exactly the thing that drove him into his depressive spiral.

That line always strikes me. It’s like… Sans suspects that without the meddling of capricious immortal time gods, he’d be a much happier and motivated person. But he doesn’t know for sure, because he can’t remember how he was in some distant ‘original timeline’. He is essentially fighting to avenge a version of himself that might not even be real.

Like, yes, it is very impressive and badass how well Sans trained himself to notice every tiny little hint that might indicate that a RESET happened - but it’s impressive because the deck is stacked so heavily against him. And it is very impressive and badass how Sans managed to turn his weaknesses into strengths during his Boss Battle - but it’s impressive because these are usually huge weaknesses. Trying to work to solve a timeloop that you can only infer is going on through context clues is quite a hopeless and desperate mission!

Another bit in the Sans fight that I often think about is his unique reaction if you kill him and then RESET to Fight him again.

With how skilled he is at reading expressions, Sans probably knows what that ‘weird expression’ means, he knows the Player killed him once before and is here to try again. And yet he still goes along with the same attack plan he has, the one he knows killed him in that previous timeline. Why? Because he doesn’t know where the flaw in his plan was exactly, he can’t even begin to guess. So he has no choice but to go along with the plan he knows did kill him, because that’s the only thing he has. 

You know, the thing about Sans, is that he always plays his cards very close to his chest. It’s very hard to tell what exactly he’s thinking. That’s probably why so many people do believe he remembers RESET. If any non-Flowey character remembered RESETs, only Sans would be remotely able to hide it so well. But for me? It makes me wonder how much of his Troll who Knows Too Much persona is a bit of an act as well. 

You know, Sans’ deduction requires some keen observational skills - does he ever second-guess his conclusions? Living on constant high-alert that something has been reversed or that someone knows something they shouldn’t requires fostering a lot of paranoia, and that can’t be healthy for him. Is he ever overcome with doubt on whatever something was really an indication of a timeline RESET or not? How does he feel when he realizes something horrible happened on a previous timeline (for example, his brother dying) but he doesn’t know about the context to feel sure that he can stop it from happening again? 

I also think about it in terms of his relationship to Papyrus in general. Sans tends to hide so many things from Papyrus, especially in timelines where the Player is particularly kill-happy...

In part it’s about his perception that Papyrus’ kindness and pacifism is born from naïveté and thus the only way to preserve it is to hide the cruelty and harshness of the world from him (Undyne also does that). But also, with the paranoia and helplessness Sans lives in every day - is it any wonder that he might believe that ignorance is bliss?

I do truly think it’s beautiful how fandom can experiment with cool non-canon ideas! There are probably so many great emotional angsty ideas tied up to Sans remembering RESETs! I just feel it’ll be a shame if people ignore just how dire and depressing Sans’ canon situation also is!

[emyladia]

Winter Break... | L. Nr

pairing : lando norris x f!reader

summary : Booking a cottage in the moutains for winter break wih your friends sounds like a good idea. I mean it could have been, but with lando around this was meant for trouble.

genre : fluff, slightly suggestive

warning : cursing, pretty sure that's all

a/n : This was just so fun to write, great request I hope this is what was expected and that you'll all enjoy it. Loving the winter vibe even close to the summer. The end is kinda shitty but don't mind it please. 'So american' is totally an alternative title.

Pietra's idea of booking a cottage sounded so great at first. This was a great way to spend time with your closest friends and enjoy winter holliday.

Until you realised what it actually meant, that meant close proximity h24 with Lando Norris.

You were Pietra's bestfriend and he was Max's bestfriend so you were used to spend time together, but if it wasn't for your friends you would already have ripped his head off of his body.

The guy was everything you hate, cocky, provoking, immature.

Saying he was not a big fan of yours was an euphemism. He hated you just as much as you hated him.

You were always trying to put on the best behavior when you were hanging out the four of you but a whole week ? Lost in the woods in the same house as him ?

Now that was something else.

But you couldn't say no.

Not when you had already agreed, and certainly not when Pietra was looking so happy and excited about it.

So here you were, at the back of the car singing to 'So American' by Olivia Rodrigo with your bestfriend, on your way to the mountains, regretting your life choices.

Max was driving, and Lando at the passenger seat was sighing heavily, making well known his annoyment at the two of you.

"What don't you like Olivia Rodrigo ?" Pietra asked Lando when the song was over.

"The problem isn't the song, it's the singers" He answered chuckling a bit.

God you were even hating the sound of his voice at this point. You rolled your eyes and stared at the window.

After a few more time you were finally all at the cottage. It was so lovely, big, all in wood, surrounded by a forest, and it was snowing.

You eyes were shining like a five years old girl, those hollidays were gonna be great with or without Lando.

"Finally smiling ?" The blond girl mocked you nudging your shoulder.

You let out a soft smile. "Sorry, I was just tired, those vacance are gonna be so cool"

She nodded widely at you before running towards the door where Max and Lando were already.

The inside of the house was even better, if it's possible. Every space was huge but yet cosy.

"I love it already" You exclamed happily. You could see that Pietra was as excited as you if it's not more.

"I'm gona check the bedrooms" She clasped her hand at this statement and went immediatly upsatairs.

You followed her letting the lungages to the boys.

When you were finally just on your owns Pietra took a serious face and spoke :

"Let's spend a great time okay ? Please don't fight with Lando"

You rolled your eyes at her comment, but she grabbed your hands insisting.

"Please"

"Fine" You conceed, it's not like you could ever told her no anyways.

You were laying on your bed, scrolling through instagram when you heard a knock on your door.

"Come in" You shouted, too lazy to actually move your ass and opened the door yourself.

The door creacked opened to a loving blond head.

"Hey Pietra what do you want ?" You questionned her putting your phone down?

"Max and I are going to town, I just wanted to let you know." She told you smiling.

"To town ?" You furrowed your eyebrow "But the closest town is one hour away from here"

"Yeah I know but we don't have marshmallows, how am I supposed to ugly cry on rom-coms without a hot chocolate with marshmallows ??" She said acting like a total drama.

You laughed loudly at her childlish behavior. "You're seriously making a two hours trip for marshmallows ?"

"Yes and ?"

"And Max is coming with you ? Dang, that boy is in love" You joked.

"I know right ? Anyways try not to fight too much with Lando" She warned you before exiting the room, letting you alone with your thoughts again.

They had left about twenty minutes ago when you decided to went downstairs.

You were still in the stairs when you noticed him, he was on the couch watching some emission about food on the TV.

Be friendly you remembered yourself, as you put on a smile and sat on the couch too (but the farther away possible from him).

"What you're watching ?" You asked him, trying to make conversation.

"Don't really know... Something about food" He replied not looking away from the screen.

Well this was starting well... Why was everything so awkward between the two of you, you couldn't help but thought.

He clearly wasn't in a mood to talk to you, not that he ever had been, so you just kept it shut and watched the TV too.

The silence between you and Lando was deafening, each passing moment filled with an uncomfortable tension that seemed to hang in the air like a heavy cloud.

You couldn't shake the feeling of unease, the knowledge that you were alone with the one person you couldn't stand.

As you watched the TV together in silence, you couldn't help but steal glances at Lando out of the corner of your eye.

Despite your animosity towards him, you couldn't deny that there was something undeniably attractive about him, from the way his jawline was perfectly chiseled to the way his eyes sparkled with mischief.

But as quickly as those thoughts entered your mind, you pushed them aside, reminding yourself of all the reasons why you couldn't stand him : He was arrogant, cocky, and infuriatingly immature, and the last thing you wanted was to be alone with him in the middle of nowhere.

When you opened your eyes, the sky was already dark. You had fell asleep while watching the TV.

You rubbed your eyes and blinked a few time trying to adjust to the sudden light.

Lando wasn't on the couch and the TV was now off but you were hearing some noise coming from the kitchen so it was probably him.

You checked your phone, it was past 8 P.M.

Have you really slept that much ? You couldn't believe it, but the dark sky out there was telling you otherwise.

You headed to the kitchen to find Lando cooking something, you couldn't help but notice that you didn't knew that he was able to cook.

"Hey, have you seen Pietra ?" You asked him.

He turned away from the fryin pan to look at you right in the eyes. You hated it, or you were loving it, you didn't know, god what were you even thinking at this point ?!

There was just something about his eyes, they seemed so truthfull and yet full of mischief.

"They haven't come back yet" He answered before turning back again focusing on his recipe.

You frown immediatly "What do you mean they haven't come back ?"

He sigh visibly annoyed to be cut off again in the middle of cooking esoecially for a stupid question like that.

"I mean they're not home"

"But they have to be" You insisted and it seems to pissed him off even more.

"They are not. What is so wrong with your brain that you can't understand a simple sentence ?" He said harshly.

You got a bit taken aback by his behavior, you still haven't fight yet and it was kinda nice for once to just discuss like normal people. But it looks like it's done now.

"Cmon it's past 8, they should be here since at least one hour" You continued cause you were getting worried now.

"It's already 8 ?!" He was looking confused now, and a bit worried too.

You ran toward the entrance while dialing Pietra's number. Outside the parking area was still empty, but where the hell where they ?

And of course she wasn't answering the damn phone. You called again, but max this time, one ring... two... three...

"Yes ?"

You sighed from relief. "Where are you it's already past 8, did something happened ?"

Max stayed silent for a few second... "Well you should talk with Pietra, I swear it wasn't my idea" He told you, and you could heard that he was feeling sorry in his voice.

But what the hell was he sorry for ? And what the hell was he talking about ?

"Heyyyy Y/n !" Your bestfriend told you in an awkward manner. And suddenly you weren't worry at all anymore, you were even starting to be a little pissed off... Something wasn't clear.

"P ? What have you done ?" You snapped at her.

"I'm sorry" She immediatly blurted out. "I know you'll be mad but it's gonna be good for the two of you staying a bit together. You'll see you'll even grew closer maybe ? And I know that you're acting like you hate him but you most definitly don't hate him at all-"

What. The. Hell.

Between the blond saying nonsense and Lando now standing in front of you in the hallway waiting for news, you were feeling overwhelmed.

"Pietra what the fuck are you talking about ? When are you coming back ?" You cut her off.

"We're not"

"What ?"

"We're not coming back, it's you and him, cmon I know for sure you think he's cute. You can lie to yourself but not to me I have seen the way you look at him when you think no one is looking"

"Bullshit"

"No it's not, if you could just consider it you would se-" You hang up on the phone too nagry to continue talking to her anymore.

She had trapped you, into being locked up with goddamn Lando cause she thought you had a crush on him ???

Life is not a damn rom-com.

"Should've have known fucking marshmallows were bullshit" You mumbled.

You stormed out off the room, going upstairs to your room when Lando stopped you midtrack. Like it was not already shitty, he was the last person you wanted to see right now.

"So ?" He questionned you. Your brow furrowed.

"What ?"

"When are they coming back ? Are they alright ? And what about marshmallows ?"

"Well they're totally fine yeah and no they're not coming back, cause we're apparently two fools locked up in a nice cottage in the middle of nowhere" You immediatly escaped him and throw yourself on your bed after that.

Lando wasn't stupid, he would probably understand by himself wha was happening.

You hadn't left your room since the call, and it was probably pretty late now.

Now that you were less angry, you had thought about it, maybe it could be okay all you had to do was keep ignoring Lando like you had done this evening.

The house was nice and the landscaped was beautiful, nothing shoudl stopped you from enjoying it.

You were still thinking about your little scheme to avoid Lando as much as possible when you heard a knock on your door.

You got up and opened it, without much suprised Lando was standing in front of it, a plate in his hands.

"Can I come in ?"

"Oh yeah sure" Mission avoid Lando : end now.

He smiled, visibly relieved that didn't slam the door on his face and entered the room. He put the plate on the desk before turning towards you.

The room was only lit up by your the lamp on your nighstand, and the little golden reflection on his face was making his skin glow.

He was pretty for sure. Saying otherwise would be lying.

"I made dinner but you kinda looked like you needed a bit of space so here it is" He told you pointing towards the plate.

"Since when are so nice ? It's not poisoned it is ?" You looked at him suspicioulsy.

He chuckled at your comment and god you just wanted to took that sound and keep it close to you forever. What the hell were you even thinking, what Pietra had said was really starting to get to your head now.

"I'm not always the bastard you try to make me look like" He just answered, that damn smile still plastered on his face.

"Whatever" I shrugged.

"So you're gonna eat or what" He asked you cocking an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah right I'm starving. What about you ?" It was all so strange, talking to Lando like that, like you were actually friends... You were kinda liking the sound of it.

"Well, I've already eat, it's pretty late you know" You glanced at your phone and it was past 10 P.M.

"Oh right... Yeah" And awkward silence fell between the two of you as you took your plate and sat on your bed to eat.

He started to move towards the door to let you eat in peace, and probably head to his bedroom. Perfect everything was coming to sense again maybe the mission : avoid Lando wasn't a lost cause after all.

"Could you stay ?" Who had said that ? Cause that could not be you, not in a million time in the world you could have possibly asked Lando to stay with you willingly.

He froze so you added immediatly "If you want cause I mean if you dan't want to it's okay, like I would understand. I mean we're really that close so maybe that's weird but it's I thought maybe you know. And eating alone is really sad but like you don't actually have to stay if you don't want. I don't want to force you-"

"Woaw slow down there" He chuckled a bit. You sigehd of frustration, now you were rambling. Just what was wring with you ?

He was probably thinking that you were completly crazy now.

But Lando wasn't looking at you like someone who's crazy, his eyes were soft and he was smiling fondly at you.

He sat down next to you and you both talked while you eat, actually even after. You have never talked so long with Lando, but everything just looked so easy.

When he finally left to get to his room you find yourself replying the evening and smiling like an idiot.

No. Absolutly no way.

You slapped yourself mentally, you couldn't have a crush on Lando that was ridiculous. You were hating him.

Okay maybe not anymore but you two could never be more than friends. Not possibly he was a lady's man, no string attached, f1 driver, flying acroos the world.

And you were... You. Hopeless romantic, who spended her night reading and listening to Olivia Rodrigo.

You and Lando was a total nonsense, and would never happened.

When you woke up the next morning and in the process of going downstairs bumped into a shirtless Lando mumbling a "Morning" with a sleepy voice you undertood that you were screwed.

You had spend the next day ignoring him as much as you can. You couldn't let yourself fell for him like that.

So everytime he wanted to talked to you or spent time with you, you were making excuses.

And here you were again, pretending to be too focused on your book to joined him watching a movie. Actually that was half true, cause your book was really good.

The two protagonists were about to kiss for the first time when Lando bursted into your room. You nearly jumped out of your bed.

"What happened to knocking ?"

He completly ignored your remark and throw himself on your bed.

"Did I do something ?"

"What no ?"

"What are you avoiding me then?"

"I am not" You lied, and he gave a look, the you-don't-fool-me-with-your-bullshit look.

You avoid his gaze feeling a bit guilty, he sighed and dropped the subject but he was looking... Almost hurt ?

"What are you reading" He asked poiting toward the book you were still holding.

A blushed crept to you cheeks, you knew their was nothing to be ashamed about reading romance novel but still. "Nothing" You hid your book in your back.

"Cmon" He smirked trying to get the book from behind you.

Dammit that stupid man that has way more strenght than you. He eventually ended up catching it and start reading the page where your bookmark was.

"Her eyes were shining with desire as he was pinning her against the wall. He wanted her so bad and deep down he knew that she wanted him just as much..."

"Oh my god stop" You shouted basically jumping on the bed to get your book back but Lando rolled on the other side of the bed.

"But they couldn't get lost in their desire, they were enemies, people who despised each other. And yet the only thought that crossed their minds at the moment was one lustfull" He continued to read out loud.

"Okay really stop that is embarassing" You finally managed to take the book back.

He pouted as you closed the novel and put it on your nightstand.

"Hey, I want to know if they kiss" The curly haired boy spoke.

"Stop mocking me" You hid your fac efrom embarassment.

"I'm serious" You were expecting a laugh, that you could've handled. Mockery, and snarky remarks, that was somethong you knew and you could support.

But him, with that serious look, truly interessed in your stupid romance novel. No that was too much for your heart.

"Really ?" You finally met his eyes, so sincere in that exact moment. He simply nodded.

You sighed before taking the book back. "Okay but don't read at loud please, let's read it... Together ? Just tell me when you've finished the page"

He smiled brightly and sat next to you as you both started reading.

At first it was uncomfortable and awkward to read like that but as time pass you both grew more comfortable and it wasn't so bad reading with him.

It felt so intimate... Being pressed next to Lando so you can both look at the pages, but yet you weren't hating it. Not at all actually, and that was kinda scaring you.

When the dark had became too dark for you to read, you decided that it was time to stopped. Lando groaned about it, he only shut up when you promised him that you could read again the next day.

"I don't know about you but I start getting hungry" He told you.

"Hmmm... I can cook tonight but I can only make grilled cheese sandwich" You laughed a little.

"Like in 'anyone but you'" He commented and you turned to faced him.

"You know the movie ?" Your eyes were wide.

"There's a lot you don't know about me" He winked at you before rolling out of bed and heading towards the kitchen.

You followed him still confused. He was right, there was so much you didn't knew about him, he was nothing like you thought he would be.

You cooked and then you ate together and he burned himself cause he didn't wait to eat. And you laughed, you laughed so much this evening your cheeks were hurting.

When you got to bed you were more confused than te night before but you were sure of one thing : Lando Norris was bad for your heart.

You hadn't answered any text from Pietra since the call, you weren't mad anymore but she gad tricked you, so you could at least do that to get back on her.

The location was for a week, you had been there for now 6 days and your little crush for Lando hadn't stop growing.

You had both read, a lot actually, played chess, throew snowballs at each other, watched movies, talked and more.

You knew that when you were gonna leave this cottage everything will became like before, but just thinking about it was hurting you. You weren't sure you were able to hate him anymore.

Being now Lando's friend also means discovered a whole new side of him, like the fact that he was extremely touchy-feely. It's not that you were hating it, in fact you were loving it a bit too much.

"What are you thinking about ?" The boy asked you, you were reading and you haven't turned a single page in 10 minutes.

"Nothing much just got lost in my thought" You answered him smiling weakly.

He looked at you like he didn't believed a single you said, but he did'nt push it more and simply nodded.

"Wanna see something fun ?" You turned to him intrigued.

"What are you thinking about ?"

"Do you trust me?" He looked at you straight into your eyes.

You nodded. He smiled and took your hand leading you downstairs. His warm hand in yours felt so great, you wished you could kept the feeling forever.

It was already dark oustide so when he told you put on your shoes and coat as he did the same you hesitated a second. Maybe he was about to murder you in that dark forest.

A bit dramatic maybe.

But you never know.

After coming to the conclusion that the idea was ridiculous and that he could've had killed you countless times if he wants, you did as he told you.

"Okay close your eyes" You frown but he only waited for you to do so, so you finally closed your eyes.

He led you outside, you heard the snow creacked under your footsteps. After a few more steps and spoke again :

"Okay opened them now"

As you were looking around you, you realised that you were right in front of the cottage in the middle of the snow, you looked at him confused.

"Up" He told you pointing towards the stars.

And that's when your jaw dropped, the sky was fulled of stars, so bright, that was the prettiest things you ahd ever seen in your life.

"Woaw" Was all you managed to say you were like a child in front of christmas present.

"This is beautiful" You murmured amazed.

"Yes it is" He said looking right at you.

You couldn't helped but laughed "God lando that line is old like the world, you can do better than that" He laughed with you.

You both sat on the porch to looked at the stars comfortably.

"What do you see?" He said poiting towards the sky.

You thought a little bit before answering. "Right there you can clearly see a gun, and those stars here 15 feet away are forming Mcdonald's logo"

"God you're so american" He chuckled. At those words your heart beat a little faster, you were getting stupid, no he wasn't quoting...

"And before you ask, yes I'm quoting Olivia Rodrigo"

Oh god you cheeks were on fire now, actually no, your whole body.

"I thought you hated her" You said him clearing your throat that was suddenly really dry.

"Wrong she's kinda right, I do laugh at all your jokes and I would like if you'd come everywhere I'd go" He confessed.

Now quoting the whole chorus, you were melting right in front of him, how could he said such things this easily ?

"Don't do that" You warned him, it was snowing, how could you be so hot right now ?

"That what ?"

"You know what I mean"

He smiled fondly at you before getting up.

"Alright american girl, let's go to sleep"

You both head back inside and as he deposed you to your room, you realised you didn't want him to go, not now. Not when tomorrow you would had to leave this place and all the moments you shared behind.

"You want to come inside ? To... Chat a bit ?" You sugggested to him visibly embarassed.

His eyes widened and you wonder if maybe you shouldn't have said that but he smiled and agreed.

You were both sitting on your bed, the room deadly silent, none of you daring to speak first.

"Listen-"

"I've wanted to-"

"You go first" He told you.

"No you really, please"

"Okay, so... What did I need to do?"

"Sorry ?" You where caught off guard by his question.

"What can I do for you to finally look at me like i look at you?"

He was supposed to clarified himself with that sentence but you were just even more confused.

He groaned in front of your lack of reaction "Cmon, don't get me wrong I enjoyed it, but why do you think I would read romance and watched rom-com everyday ?? And actually learned lyrics of an Olivia Rodrigo song ?"

"Cause you liked them ?" He gave you a look that really said "Seriously ?"

"I don't know cause of your really sensible heart ?"

"Y/n..." He sighed at how clueless you were acting.

"I just don't know !" You shouted feeling lost and overwhelmed.

"You do know, you just don't want to admit it" He shouted back and you hated how right he was just now.

You send a death glare at him and as you were both staring at each other pupils you were hating so much. Oh god so much, he was freaking annoying.

How could you've had forgotten that.

That's why when he put a hand on your cheek and crahsed his lips on yours you put your arms around his neck and pulled him even closer.

Wait... What ?

You were kissing Lando. Everything was perfectly fine you were kissing Lando. OH. MY. GOD.

The kiss was rough and hungry, like he had wait for so long to do just that. Lando's lips were moving against yours but you wanted so much more.

Apparently him too, because at the second you opened your mouth a bit to gave him access he deepened the kiss. After what felt like an eternity but yet not enough he backed away a little from the kiss to breathed.

"Well..." He started but you cut him off. "Shut up"

You pulled him back into another kiss and god he wasn't complaining at all. Your lips were feeling so great against his, right were they belong.

His eyes widened when you pulled on the hem of his shirt. "Are you sure ?"

"Never been surer in my life" You replied tossing his shirt away in the room. He didn't waste anymore time "Can I ?" he asked his hands on the hem of your shirt.

"Sure, do whatever you want" He took off your shirt of you and started roaming your body with his hands.

"You really shouldn't say things like this."

Before you could replied his lips collapsed again with yours. That was a feeling he could never get used to, his favorite in the world, his lips on your lips.

When you opened your eyes the next morning you're welcolmed by two eyes, and what beatiful eyes, staring at you.

"You're creepy" You chuckled while hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

"And you're gorgeous, morning beautiful" He told you with a sleepy voice, and you were loving that voice. This was definitly the best night you've ever had in your life.

"Morning" You said back snuggling a bit closer to him.

"I love you"

You're sleepiness disappear instantly at his words and you pushed yourslef on your elbows to look at him eyes widened.

"I'm sorry, that was really fast and-" He started apologizing, but you cut him with a chast kiss.

"I love you too Lan" You whispered like it was a secret.

And he smiled, the brightess smile you've had ever seen on his face.

"We should probably get up and make our suitcase" He suggested, and got you just wanted to stay all day long in this bed with him, but he was right.

Max and Pietra woulod probably came soon.

When their car parked on the driveway Lando and you were already in front of the cottage your suitcases in hand. You both seat in the back of the car.

As you and Lando gave your heart out on 'So american' by Olivia Rodrigo, Pietra and Max exchange a look.

"Looks like it works out at the end" She said and he just smiled at her agreeing.

[katareyoudrilling]

Seen (Javier Peña One-shot)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Summary: You’re the last person Javi wants to ask for a favor, but not for the reason you think.

Word count: ~2.2k

Rating: Mature (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: Alternating POV, reader is a few years older than Javi (Javi could be a variety of ages) and has hair that could be worn up or down, wrinkles and laugh lines, a touch of angst, non-graphic sex

A/N: This isn’t quite what I expected it to be when I started working on it many many months ago.  The idea was inspired by @famouslyanonymous musing that there didn’t seem to be any fics featuring a Pedro boy with a slightly older reader.  I wanted to say a lot of things with this fic and I’m not sure I said any of them, but I hope you enjoy!

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

Masterlist

Taglist link in bio (or ask me to add you!)

“Fine.”

Fuck.

Javi slams down the phone and pinches the bridge of nose.

He needs a favor.  Why does it have to be from you?

He can flirt his way through the department secretaries easily, but you, with your intelligent, assessing gaze… he swears you can see right through him.

The two of you have been crossing into each other’s orbits for a long time now.  He can tell that you know…  You know he’s not some DEA hero.  You can see right through to the failure of a man he actually is.

He takes a long drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out and pushing away from his desk.  “Fuck it.”

He pulls at the back of his neck as he makes his way to your department.  He can already feel the tension headache beginning.  If you won’t do this for him… he’d rather not think about it.

He approaches your desk nervously. “I need a favor.”

“Is that right?” you reply, continuing your work.

“I would really appreciate it.” If he can’t flirt, he can at least try to be polite.

“You aren’t going to compliment my nail polish or tell me how pretty my dress is?”

“Uh… I… what?” Javi stammers.

“I see what you do around here.  Flirting with all the pretty young things to get your way.  Not me though, probably because I’ve got 20 years on most of them and a few on you.”

“What? No! Fuck, you’re the most beautiful woman here.”

“Right,” you scoff.  “It’s too late for the charm, Javier.”

He leans over your desk, gripping the edge.  Moving himself into the halo of your perfume.  “I’m telling you the truth,” he growls.

You lift your eyes to his and his knees go a little weak.

Who is he kidding?  A class-act like you is never going to bend the rules for a man like him.

“Never mind,” he pushes off your desk and walks away.

When he returns to his desk later that afternoon, he’s surprised to find the file he needs sitting on his chair.

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

You lean back against the elevator wall and sigh.  It has been a long day and all that has kept you going is the thought of getting out of your heels and pantyhose and onto your couch.

The elevator pings as the doors open on the garage level.  You step out into the cool, echoey space.  That’s when you see him.

He’s standing by your car, exhaling a plume of smoke, somehow not looking green and sickly under the florescent lights.  He must hear the click of your heels on the concrete because he turns and puts out his cigarette as you approach.

“What are you doing here, Peña?  Need another favor?”

“Thank you for the file.  You didn’t have to do that.”  He shifts his weight and looks down at his feet.

“Yeah, well, lord knows you get enough roadblocks thrown in your way.  I don’t need to be one of them.”

Javier chuckles ruefully, “You have no idea.”

“If that’s all, I need to get going.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” Javier looks up at you, “To say thanks?”

Your feet and back are screaming at you not to get taken in by those puppy dog eyes, but there’s something simmering beneath the surface of his gaze.  Something that makes you curious.  His outburst earlier hasn’t left your mind.  You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little interested in where an evening with Javier Peña might take you.

“Counteroffer.  How about you come over to my place in an hour.  Bring the booze with you.”

Javier’s eyes light up in surprise.

“Don’t get any ideas, Peña.  It’s been a long day and I don’t feel like going to a bar.”

“I didn’t have any ideas.”

You scoff and make your way to the driver’s side door, “See you later?”

He nods.

Javier stands aside as you pull out of your parking space and out of the garage.  You can see him in your rearview mirror smoothing down his mustache, hand on one cocked hip.  It should be an interesting evening.

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

You open the door to your apartment and Javi is momentarily stunned speechless.  You’re wearing flowy, satin pants and a cardigan belted around your waist.  You’ve removed your make-up and your jewelry.  You’ve let down your hair.

You’ve never looked more beautiful.

You’re always stunning at work.  Elegant, put-together, gorgeous.  But here, now, you look so soft and relaxed.  It’s as though you’ve taken off the armor you wear to the office.

Like he’s getting a glimpse of the real you.

He always tries to hide the real him.  That façade might not work tonight… a frightening thought.

You step aside and motion him into the apartment.  Javi swallows deeply and forces his feet to step inside.

“I brought whiskey, hope that’s ok.”  He holds out the bottle to you.

“Definitely ok, I had a feeling.” You lead him to your couch.  Two tumblers already sit on the coffee table.  You uncork the bottle and pour two fingers in each glass.

You hand him his glass before swirling the amber liquid in your own.

He watches, mesmerized, as you breathe in the heady aroma and your eyes drift closed.  You take a sip and sigh.  His cock twitches.

“That’s good whiskey, Javier.”

“Call me Javi.”

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

You didn’t expect it to be so easy to talk to him.

Somehow you’ve gravitated towards each other.  Your knee now rests against his thigh.  His arm stretches behind you on the couch.  Whiskey glasses sit forgotten on the table.  You only needed a few sips to relax before the conversation and laughter flowed.

Swapping stories of co-workers and old mutual friends.  You realize you’ve never seen him smile before tonight.

It’s a shame.

His smile lights up the room.

Javi arches back against the couch and pinches the bridge of his nose. “It’s getting late.”

You make a non-committal noise in reply because your gaze has been captured by the expanse of his chest you can see through his gaping shirt.

Has his shirt been unbuttoned this much the whole time?  Four buttons undone?  Really?  Why bother buttoning it at all?

Not that you’re complaining as you take in the view of his smooth, golden skin.  You watch, hypnotized, as his chest rises and falls with each breath.

Your gaze travels upward, catching on the divot of his clavicle.  The perfect place to breathe his scent.

His Adam’s apple snags your gaze next as it bobs in his throat.  You have to swallow yourself, saliva pooling in your mouth at the thought of licking your way up his gorgeous neck.

His jawline comes into view.  Strong and angular.  Beautiful.  Especially in contrast to his soft, plush lips.

They part slightly, revealing the most perfect crease in his lower lip.

Then there’s his nose.  Noses shouldn’t be so arousing.  It’s absurd.  But there it is in all it’s aquiline glory.  Like a goddamn sculpture.

You continue your journey up to his eyes and find that he’s staring at you, pupils blown.

Your mouth is suddenly dry as Javi slowly closes the distance between you, never breaking eye contact, giving you time to protest, until his lips meet yours.

A fire ignites in your body with the first touch of his lips.  It burns from your head to your toes waking you up from your slow syrupy thoughts.

You climb onto his lap, knees on either side of his slim hips.  His hands grip your waist.  His heat bleeding through the thin fabric covering your center.

You break away from the kiss, breathless. Javi continues kissing down your throat, tugging at your cardigan.  You sit back and reach between you, untying the belt and letting it fall off your shoulders.

Javi groans as he takes in the thin camisole you are wearing underneath.  Your bra had come off along with the pantyhouse and heels.  Your hard nipples poke against the silky fabric.  They squeeze even tighter as Javi licks his lips.

“Fuck, bonita, you’re gorgeous,” he rasps.  The sound goes straight to your core.

- - - - - - - - -

He didn’t come here for this.

Maybe he hoped initially.  But it didn’t seem to be what you had in mind.

He wasn’t lying when he said you were the most beautiful woman at work.  His eyes rove over your body of their own volition every time your paths cross.  His ears tune into the sound of your laughter and even more to your witty and sarcastic remarks.

But he didn’t expect this… this connection.

You’ve set him at ease.  Pulling stories from his memory that he thought were long forgotten.  The urge to pour out his heart to you nearly chokes him.

You’re too good for him.  Too smart, too strong, too confident.  And oh, are you beautiful.  

And now you’re above him, rocking into his cock, making the most heavenly sounds as you lick into his mouth.  He can do sex and do it well.  He can make up for everything he lacks with a good fucking.

Maybe fucking is all he’s good for.

“Take me to bed, Javi.”

He pauses.  He expected your words, but somehow, they have caught him off guard. It wouldn’t be just a fuck with you.  You’ve gotten under his skin.  You’ve glimpsed his soul.

The words bubble up before he can’t stop them.

“I’m scared.”

- - - - - - - - - - - 

His admission catches you off guard and you sit back.  “Scared? Of what? I know I’m older than you, but it’s not like I’m some dried-out husk and bats are going to fly out of my vagina.”  You push against his chest to get off his lap, annoyed and frustrated.

Javi growls and grabs your ass, pulling you back to him, holding you still while he finds his words.  “Fuck, that’s not what I meant.”  He huffs as he continues, “I’m scared because you… see me.”

The anger burns away as quickly as it came.

“I’m not the man most people think I am.” His big brown eyes that only moments ago held laughter and lust, fill with pain and doubt.

“Who are you, then?”

“Just a man.  Trying.  Failing.”

“I know.”

“You don’t want me.”

“What if I do?”

You’re surprised by your own admission. It’s the truth.  You do want him.  And not because he’s a ‘hero’ but in spite of it.  You want the man you met tonight.

You watch his feelings war across his face.  His body wants you, that is abundantly clear.  You’re pretty sure his mind and heart do too, if he could only trust them.

“Have you been real with me tonight, Javi?” you ask, brushing the pads of your thumbs over his gorgeous cheekbones.

“Yes.”

“I won’t beg.” You’ve lived enough life to know a man that doesn’t want you isn’t worth your time. “But know that I do see you and I want you.  The real you.”

His fingers dig into your hips and he swallows hard. “I’ve never done this.”

“I find that hard to believe.”  That earns you a smirk, some sparkle returning to his eyes.

“You know what I mean.  Real… I’ve never done real.  At least not for a long fucking time.”

“I’m as real as they come, Javi.  Wrinkles and all. Can you handle it?”

He brushes his fingers over the creases at the corners of your eyes and you melt.  “You’re beautiful.”

You bring your lips back to his, gently testing.  He wraps his arms around you, surging up into the kiss.  Heat quickly builds between your bodies as your hands roam freely across his broad shoulders and up into his hair.

He groans against your mouth.

“Take me to bed, querida.”

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

Your body is perfect.

Not in the way of youth – firm, angular, unblemished – but well-loved.  Each part of you telling the story of a life well-lived.

He worships each curve of you.  Reveling in what pleasure feels like with someone when he opens himself up.  He kisses your softness, traces each wrinkle with his calloused fingers, delights in the sounds you make as he explores your body.

When you welcome him into your wet heat with a contented sigh, it nearly breaks him in two.  You feel so right around him, moving with him, coming with him.

Sated and drowsy, he lays with you on your bed.  You brush his hair off his forehead and trace your fingers over his laugh lines and the crease between his eyebrows.  He’s lived some life too.

“Still scared?” you ask, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Yeah,” he rasps quietly, looking up at your soft smile, “but I think it might be worth it.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

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