#the ending of the show especially when he's just like. sobbing in his living room

[depresseddepot]

rewatching my mister. park dong hoon investigating his wife's affair and becoming more and more panicked and confused is so hard to watch

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓫𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓭𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂

Father in law!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: Your soon to be husband leaves you at the alter, but you should have guessed since the practice seemed to run in the family. It’s hard to be upset however, when his father comes to repent for not only his own but his son’s wrong doings. Aka fiancé’s dad Javi fucking you in your wedding dress after his son ditches you at the altar.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Minimal editing, unspecified but thicc and legal age gap, infidelity, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, insane dirty talk, toxic father son relationship, reader is delulu, praise kink, petnames, sex in front of a mirror, veil pulling??, a few spanks, creampie, Javi fucks you into the mattress, unprotected P in V [don’t do it!!]. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶.

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Literally just porn without plot, lotsa fucking, I want father in law Javi. Minimally edited lmao I just banged this out Can’t wait for you to read it!! Hope you enjoy, nasties! Mwah!

Masterlist

You rich and I'm wishin', um

You could be my mister, yum

Delicious to the maximum

Chew you up like bubble gum

You love me, he wants me

I think I want you too

Best day of your life- yeah, what a fucking joke. But what were you expecting? Ditching people at the altar seemed to run in the family. Okay, maybe that was a bit of a harsh assessment of the Peñas, especially Peña senior, who, despite all you had heard of him from your ex fiance, had always shown you kindness. 

The thing is, it becomes really fucking hard to be charitable to a family when their son humiliates you infront of the entirety of Texas. Leaves you high and dry on the steps of the biggest church in town in your great grandmother’s silk dress. It becomes even harder when you learn his mother had been in on it all along, sparing you not even a little apology, or a comforting embrace after her son's little getaway plan had been revealed. 

Instead of extending you a supporting hand, she ran away to make sure her baby boy was okay, and that this entire ordeal hadn’t taken a toll on his emotional and psychological well being. 

How thoughtful. 

Of course, you were the pathetic one– unable to look anyone in the eye, sobbing on your fathers shoulder till you couldn’t breathe any longer. So distraught and unwell even getting out of your wedding attire seemed impossible. It only made you feel even more pathetic. At some point you ended up curling up in your hotel bed, still in the “happiest day of your life” outfit, and pleading for some time alone from your friends and family to wallow in your own suffering. 

You would eat your feelings in the from of the apology chocolates the hotel had complimented for you, but you couldn’t manage to even do that without feeling like a total fucking looser. 

After all that had transpired, and after years of hearing nothing but sour things about your soon to be father in law, safe to say you were surprised to see him at your hotel room door at midnight as the ambassador the family seemingly sent to smooth things over. 

For it being only your second time meeting the man, this was far from the most opportune scenario. In fact, him showing up all sorrowful and apologetic for his shitty excuse of a son, in his navy blue suit and loose tie, made your already pathetic day all the more difficult to get through. 

Your whole relationship you had blamed every fault of your boyfriend on his absent, detached father. You’d heard plenty about the lack of childhood visits, quality time, and playing soccer that had plagued your partner’s life, and had found it quite easy and comforting to pile on every relationship problem you ever came across as the consequence of Javier Peña’s lack of responsibility and good parenting. 

What you didn’t expect, was to find that Javi Peña was a whole lot more normal and level headed than you anticipated. He was just a guy trying to make a good living and provide for his family. Sure, he was a little bit reserved, but he was only ever warm and sweet and even quite chatty with you. To be frank, you should have seen your boyfriend’s shitty behavior as a consequence of his insufferable mother from a mile away. God knew you weren’t expecting Peña Sr. to be the better of your two soon to be in laws. 

That being said, you would have never expected to be on your hands and knees, on what was supposed to be your marital bed, being pounded from behind by your ex soon to be father in-law. 

Because that's where you are now, eyes rolling to the back of your head thanks to the most intense pleasure you've ever felt. The drag of Javis cock against your walls has been building a steady heat in your belly, the stretch of him so perfect and delicious it has you pushing your hips back to meet his every thrust. 

Any other day a man like him wouldn’t have needed much to woo you– with his cut jaw, handsome features and those chocolate brown eyes you wished his son had inherited. Safe to say on a day like this one it took even less, just a few rubs on your back, a hand smoothing over your head and trailing down your waist, a few “pretty girls” and “poor things” and some fucking sympathy from someone from your boyfriends sorry family. 

Fucking pathetic. 

But Javier knows his son is pathetic, knows he is a good for nothing moron who doesn't even know what he was losing out on when he walked out on you.

“He’s a fuckin fool- look at this tight little pussy, squeezin’ me so fuckin good. Bet he didn’t fuck ya like this, huh baby? Didn’t make ya cum over and over, make ya scream… stupid fuckin boy..” Javier’s grip on your hips tightens on hearing your moan, and he curses under his breath when your pussy flutters around his cock. 

Your legs are threatening to give out under you, your knees tender from how long you've been leaning on them. Javier’s hand moves to grip the fabric of your veil, using it to pull your head back and make you face the mirror that's been teasing you all evening. “Look- Look at ya- fuckin cryin’ on my cock. ‘S the only reason ya’ shoulda’ be cryin’ in this pretty dress..” With drooping eyes you're faced with your own reflection– stains from your mascara running down your face now less thanks to the sorry of the afternoon and more thanks to the way Javi’s cock has been nudging your sweetspot. 

You watch your tits spill out of your beautiful silk dress, the fabric now disheveled and a far cry from the sophisticated, simplistic garment it once was. You can barely recognise it, but then again you can barely recognise your own reflection. “Look at that pretty little body- fuckin made for me.” 

“Yours-” you cut yourself off with a gasp, Javi’s hands squeeze your hips and your cheeks set ablaze at the way he looks at you when you catch it in the mirror. The whole sight is so debauched and depraved– you on your hands and knees for a man who could easily be mistaken for your father. But somehow it's even dirtier- the possibility of your ex finding out sends you into overdrive. 

The silk of your dress brushes against your hot skin, flipped lewdly up to reveal your bare ass, bunched at the waist, the straps drooping and threatening to fall. Javi pulls the zip down even further, watching as it hangs off your body, draped like fabric from a 15th century painting. 

Javi’s voice calls your attention back to the present moment, lewd words showing you he doesn't hold back the way his son does. “Gonna fill this tight little cunt up..” The stretch is so delicious between your legs, you feel the steady throb continue to tighten the coil inside you and you can’t help but moan. “Yeah, you want that? Want daddy to put a baby in you?” the thought makes you shiver, that name makes you shiver, has your cunt clenching around his cock. What an image- you, belly round with your father in laws child, well, your ex father in law. Unlike his son you were sure he would be the perfect husband, would bend you over ever surface in your picket fence house and fuck you just like he’s doing now. 

Deep, and hard and fast, just like you need it. Just like you've always needed it.. 

“Please daddy, want your babies, wanna be yours…” Your voice is so broken and wrecked you're afraid he can’t understand what you're even saying. To be honest you can’t be bothered much, it feels so good, his thick, hard cock feels so good pounding between your thighs there's little else you can keep your mind on. 

“Yeah? you like that sweetheart? we can play house..” you nod your head and his hand tightens its grip around your veil, exaggerating your movements, bending you to his will. “Wanna play house with daddy? can be my pretty little wife” you fist the sheets, pushing back against him with his every thrust. You do want that, you’ve always wanted that. And what better person to do it with. Sure, his wife always complained about how he was never around, but that's looking a lot more like a her problem– especially with the way Javi’s tip continues to kiss your sweet spot. 

“Yes daddy, please..”  

Javier lets go of your veil, and pushes his palm between your shoulder blades, forcing you down into the mattress till your cheek is pressed against the warm, fluffy duvet. One hand keeps you there, the other lands a quick spank to your ass and kneads at the flesh with a newfound desperation. “Won't be able to even say his goddamn name after I'm done with ya. Stupid boy doesnt know how to treat a pretty thing like you– so sweet, so gorgeous, so fucking smart. Too fucking good for him.” 

With your lips parted and breathing heavy you drool onto the covers, letting Javi pound you into the mattress and overshadow every other thought that dared cross your head earlier in the day. If his plan is to make you forget about anything that isn't him, it sure is working. You don't think you’d even want to sound out his incompetent son’s name after he’s done with you. 

As if he can read your mind his voice calls from behind you. “Want ya to be drippin with me.” the wet schick of his cock fucking into your tight, wet, hole reminds you of just how needy you are for him, and the prospect of having him dripping out of you– down your thighs, between your legs, leaving you all messy for him to come back and do it all over again, drives you absolutely insane. 

“He’s fuckin useless, just like his ma. But look at you, so fucking tight ‘round me, making all those pretty sounds, she fuckin’ wishes she was you.” His words have your cunt squeezing around his cock, and a lewd, pornographic moan slipping past your lips. “My girl’s gonna be the perfect lil’ mamma, aren’t ya, so fuckin’ pretty.” You would certainly like that- in fact you’re almost surprised with how appealing it sounds to you. 

“Gonna be perfect for you daddy, only for you.” your dress rides up even further, the front slipping further down. 

“Thats my fucking girl.” That growl of his sends shivers down your spine– possessive, and confident and dripping like honey from his lips. It was almost like it could send you over the edge by itself. The lewd creaking of the bedframe fills the room, the sound of skin on skin driving you wild. The way he handles you– firm and deft but gentle and passionate, it's nothing like his son. 

He’s nothing like his son. 

“Yeah, bet it feels good don’t it, bein’ fucked by a real man? Feel daddy so deep in ya? Nothin ever been that deep before, huh..” You shake your head ‘no’ and he coos at how pathetic you must sound, barely able to make a coherent sound, forget string together a whole sentence. 

“Make me go fuckin’ crazy, babygirl.” 

What he says is fucking filthy, there’s no denying, no justifying it. It makes you squirm, makes you even wetter, makes you want him even more. 

“Think you wanna go back to him? With daddy’s cum drippin between those pretty thighs, show him how a real man treats his girl?” 

“Gonna make ya beg him to stay, gonna talk some sense into him, just so daddy can have ya all to himself, ain't that right? You gonna sneak into daddy’s room in the middle of the night? All wet an’ achy? Beggin’ daddy to fuck ya how ya need?” 

“Wanna run away with me baby, live in a perfect little house, let daddy give ya his babies, fuck ya full’ve my cum every single night?” 

His hands roam your body, smoothing over your hips, reaching forward to squeeze at your breasts, pinching and kneading the flesh. He bends down to trail light kisses along your spine and the feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Your head twists side to side against the sheets as you squirm, each sensation like it's heightened to the maximum, the heaviness and the throb between your thighs at an all time high. 

You know you're close, you can’t hold it off much longer. Your cunt squeezes and your toes curl. You also know Javi won't last, you can feel him pulse against your swollen walls, can feel the way he desperately thrusts into you, pushes you further down against the mattress, grips your skin with that renewed fervor, with the desperation of doing anything to hold on to the incredible sensation. 

“Come for me, babygirl, come for daddy, show daddy how much ya needed this, show daddy how bad ya need his cock.” 

Your legs part even further under you, if that's even physically possible, your entire upper body being smashed into the mattress. You call out Javi’s name, followed by a string of desperate, strained, whiny daddy daddy daddy’s. 

With a strangled moan that's partially muffled by the covers you come undone, your head spins and your heart pounds in your chest, you feel yourself gush and clamp down around his cock. You feel Javi’s hips stutter behind you and his cock throb against your wet walls. The feeling only prologues and intensifies your orgasm, your body going slack and eyes rolling back into your head. 

“Please daddy, need your cum, please, give it to me..” 

Javi’s groans catch your attention as you come down from your high, still reeling from the aftershocks when you feel his cock twitch inside you and paint your walls with his hot spend. Your words are strained and slurred, but they clearly get the job done. You shiver and press your ass back against him to meet his stuttery, sloppy thrusts, and bite your lip when you feel him tighten his grip on your hip, feel him land a final spank to your ass for good measure as he slows down. 

You keep your ass in the air, face still pressed against the mattress as Javi pulls out. You hear him mutter a few strained curses under his breath as he does, and catch him looking between your legs to see his spend obscenely leak out of your used hole. He reaches his fingers to rub against your messy folds and you whine, feel him gather up your juices and push them back inside your cunt in a way that has you almost cumming right there again. 

Your dress is still pooled at your waist and he unzips it entirely, sneaking his hands under your thighs and flipping you over and yanking you towards him. 

“You really want daddy’s babies?” Your head falls back against the bed when you feel his hand cup your cunt, rub your messy, swollen folds with the calloused tips of his fingers. You barely manage to nod. 

“Then I ain’t done with ya yet pretty girl.” You tilt your chin to catch his gaze, now in nothing but your stupid little wedding veil. You’re not sure about the best day of your life, but this sure as hell contends for one of the best nights. 

You can be my daddy tonight-night-night

I'm neon phosphorescent

Open like a Christmas present, oh

You can be my daddy tonight-night-night

If you're seeking heaven

Then you wanna come and get it alright

Be my daddy tonight

What's up what's up

What's up what's up

Be my daddy be my daddy

Be my daddy be my, be my daddy tonight

AHHHHH feel like I’m going to hell for this one. Thanks so much for reading!! Please please please let me know what you think. I’d love to know your thoughts!!! Thank you to everyone who engages with my work, you keep me writing!! 💗🐝

[readychilledwine]

Could i request something where az and reader are mates. They have a huge fight and “break up” and reader leaves the court. She finds out that she is pregnant and writes him a letter. He never shows up so she thinks he doesn’t want the baby. Rhys visit the court she is in and sees her with a child maybe a couple months old. He is mad because she didn’t told him and when he ask her why she keeps his nephew away she tells him that she wrote az but he never answered. Rhys is mad and ask az what is up with him to just leave his pregnant mate. Unbeknownst to him that az was searching for her the whole time. Az tells him that he never got a letter and they find out that maybe elain burned it. It takes some time for them but they find their way back and just fluff azriel dad who teaches his son how to fly.

( you could write more angst between reader and az because of elain or you could use a maid or something who wants az)

Here Without You

Summary - Being a single mother was more painful than you'd ever thought it would be, especially when your son's father was just a court away.

Warnings - Angst, Elain showing those claws, single mom status, a child, PPD and the thoughts that come with it, **edited to add** cheating

A/N - I had one of my friends who is a single mom help me with this one while also imagining my life without baby daddy, and um, yeah. We cried a lot, so hopefully, you all do too.

*message from Liz regarding the ending at the end*

💙Peep my Azriel Masterlist Here💙

You had decided whatever you had done to offend the Mother must have been truly unforgettable and unforgivable as you sank against the wall of your family chambers in the Day Court Palace.

Being a new mother was the hardest thing you had ever and will ever do. You had finally gotten Nox down after 3 hours of fussing and tears, and now you waited. He'd sleep 2 hours if you were lucky, wake up crying, and you'd start the process over.

You had wished for your mate more times than you could count, but that bridge was long gone and burned. He had ensured of that by not coming when you wrote him, by not even bothering to write you a response.

The last fight between you and Azriel had been ugly. Glasses had been thrown, a bottle of wine knocked over in rage, cruel words you would both have to live with ringing in your ears like a scream. 350 years. Gone. Thrown away like garbage. All for Elain.

Selfish, plotting, destructive Elain.

You stood, body swaying with sleep deprivation setting in before sitting at the table where your now cold food set. You were too tired to eat, choosing to instead drink the water you had been desperately craving 4 hour ago.

You had wished you could turn it to wine, drink it with no consequences, and still feed Nox when he woke, but that was not the reality of the world. So, instead, you allowed the room temperature flavorless beverage to slide down your throat before moving like a ghost to the couch. There was no point in getting comfortable in your own bed. You would have to be up soon anyway. It wasn’t as if you had help.

You were alone.

And that wasn't even the most painful part of it.

The most painful part was setting in doubt. The growing disbelief that you weren't capable of this, that Nox deserved more, that you should have dropped him at the cabin you had no doubt Elain had moved into, leaving him with her and Azriel to allow you to-

You cut your brain off, refusing to put those words into a full thought. Refusing to believe that your disappearance or death was better for your son than this.

This had to be enough, you had to be enough, because Gods if it wasn't and you weren't, then what truly was the point in living any longer.

Helion entered your chambers the next morning, eyes falling to where you were sat on the floor, shoulders shaking as sobs tore through you. He placed a large warm hand on your shoulder before taking Nox from your arms. "I know I can not offer much of a break due to his feeding cycle, but when is the last time you ate a hot meal, y/n?"

You shook your head. He was 2 weeks old. You supposed it had been before labor. Since then, it had been moments begging for just a second of deep sleep. Moments begging for the Mother to help you, to guide you. Moments where those prayers went unanswered as if they were just thrown into a void. "I don't remember."

Helion could have killed Azriel for you, for Lucien, for Nox. He almost had when you had winnowed yourself here, collapsing in his arms from the exhaustion magic and a growing babe had caused your body.

You hadn't known when you came to the Day Court, begging your oldest friend for a week of safety and healing that you were pregnant, but the High Lord had scented it the second you appeared.

It left him wondering how the hell Azriel hadn't.

"Let me hire a wet nurse for you," he offered again, knowing you would turn it down since your depressive state had you hyper fixated in this belief that all you were good for now was your breasts, and if you gave that duty away, what purpose did you have? "At least for the next few hours. To give you time to rest?"

You still shook your head, messy, tangled hair trying to sway. "I can't. I can't burden someone else."

Helion turned his head away from you, willing himself not to cry at the emptiness of your voice, at the lifelessness you had become.

"The Night Court and Spring are coming today," he started slowly. "I am the magic selected neutral ground for Tamlin and Rhysand to begin setting a peace treaty and trade routes." He waited for your reaction, almost breaking further as you gave him none. "Do you want to see any of them?"

"Lucien and Tamlin."

Helion felt his heart shatter for Cassian, the male who had been asking about you for months now. "The general-"

"Is Azriel's brother. And probably has taken his side. Attempts to see me are probably to give him some sick sort of satisfaction."

He dropped the subject immediately. Nox was asleep, content in the High Lord's arms. "I have time before they arrive, go nap." Helion ordered it, eyes blazing a soft gold and forcing you into submission.

Your bed had never felt so soft.

Helion was walking with Nox around the Palace, smiling and cooing the little male. He was always content when he was being held, and you were so deeply asleep you hadn't even noticed Helion holding the boy to your chest as he nursed. He walked towards where Lucien and Tamlin were.

His son, his pride and joy, looked just radiant in his Day Court attire. The soft, off-white pleaded fabric draping him showed the new healthy build he had gained since Azriel and Elain's transgressions, a golden snake wrapped his bicep, new golden earrings adorned those many piercings.

Lucien paused, a look of concern etching his face when he saw Nox before shaking his head rapidly.

But it was too late, Helion was already in the room where Rhysand also stood with the Inner Circle. The Lord of Night's face fell as he looked at the Illyrian boy, looking so happy up at Helion as he dozed off.

Cassian had frozen, mid sentence with Nesta. He had tried to take a step, wanting to see the babe he immediately knew was his nephew. His eyes met Helion's pleading with permission to approach. Elain's face had paled. A mix of guilt and fear running across it before she schooled it into a faked look of hurt and sadness.

But it was Azriel's face the broke the High Lord. It was a look he knew all too well.

The look of a father who missed the birth of his child.

The look of a father who didn't know he had a child.

The look of a father mourning lost time.

Lucien moved to Helion, taking Nox before leaving the room quickly. The boy did as he always did when his head found Lucien's warm bare shoulder. He released a heavy breath, snuggling into that familiar scent and warmth. "Your mother did not call for me last night," they all heard his soft voice trailing off, speaking to their nephew softly.

"You will tell me everything I do not know," Rhysand demanded as if he was in his own court. "When the fuck was he born. Why were we not informed of her pregnancy?"

Tamlin looked to Helion, digging the shit further. "Is she in the same room as last time?" The Lord of Day nodded. "I will go see her while you all deal with this."

Helion didn't answer, walking to the centered round table and taking the head seat. "To begin, Rhysand, this is my court. You will not make demands of me in my home." They all sat, aside from Azriel. His gaze was locked on the hallway Lucien and Tamlin had gone down.

If he ran, he could catch them. He could see you. He could-

The slam of hands on a table ripped him from his thoughts, and his head snapped to Helion. The High Lord was blazing, glowing like the sun itself, heat radiating from him. "Sit. Down."

An hour later and Rhysand had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. "You saw her send each letter?"

Helion rolled his eyes, nodding again. "Every month after every check up and once after the birth."

Rhys pointed to Azriel. "But you never got them?"

"My son wouldn't be in another court if I had," Azriel's voice mirrored yours. Broken, empty, mourning. Mourning what was, what he had missed and would never get back. "You're sure she sent them to me?"

Helion could have snapped his neck. "Who else would have fathered her babe? You are the one who stepped out of the bonds of marriage and mateship. Not her."

Azriel paused, a sudden look of anger gracing his face as he looked up at Elain, shadows curling his ears. Nuala appeared, setting envelopes down in front of Rhysand. "In her room. Under her bed in a locked chest. Along with every communication you had tried to send to y/n, my lord."

Feyre gasped, turning her back to Elain and leaning further into Rhysand, holding Nyx tightly between them. She remembered those first few weeks. The sleepless nights, the pain, the emotional down pour. She would not have survived without Rhysand. Without Nesta and Mor. Without Cassian and you and Azriel. Her sister, the one who had held her as darkness swallowed her mind after her son's birth, had allowed you to endure this alone.

Azriel's hands shook, reaching for that stack. He separated out the letters. 10 for him. 2 for Rhysand and Feyre. 2 for Mor. 2 for Amren. 4 for Cassian and Nesta.

Helion stood. "I will let you all process this. Call for me when you are ready to do negotiations. The sooner you all leave, the better for her."

Rhysand's eyes shot up. "You won't let us explain to her-"

"Does it change the fact that he took Elain to their marriage bed? Does it change that he signed the annulment papers." Silence filled the room. "I believe that's why she left. Correct?" Rhys grit his teeth nodding. "Then all this changes is me, someone she trusts and feels safe with right now, informing her of what happened and allowing her to decide if she wants to reach out again from that point." He made a pointed look at Elain. "Which would not matter since I cannot see you removing the parasite from your court."

Helion walked into your room to Lucien and Nox laying skin to skin, a blanket over them as Tamlin held you, long fingers running through your dark hair. "And?" His son said.

"Your mate hid the letters regarding her pregnancy." Lucien whistled. "She's a snake hiding behind beautiful scales."

Azriel had tracked down your room with his shadows easily. The inner circle had been excused for the negotiations and allowed to explore the city. Cassian had flown Elain home, Mor and Amren winnowing Nesta behind them. Cassian wanted Elain out of his house, and Azriel could not have been more grateful to his brother for having his back.

He entered the room slowly and quietly. You were placing the babe in a crib on the balcony. It was shaded from the sun, shielded to remain the perfect temperature, and yet gave him access to fresh air, to the breeze.

You turned, eyes wide the second you saw Azriel. He moved to you so quickly that you could hardly process it. One second, your feet were on the ground, and the next, arms held you tight against him. Azriel was breathing deeply, memorizing your scent all over again.

He set you down, keeping you close to his chest, and sent a prayer to the Mother. "Elain hid all the letters," he began slowly. "She kept them all in her room. I didn't know. Had I known about you, about him, I would have crawled the very depths of hell to bring you back home to me."

You didn't answer. Tears fell as your body relaxed into him. It wasn't fair. The hold he had on you. The need you still felt in your bones when he touched your skin. You ached for Azriel so deeply it echoed into your bones. You longed for his smell. His voice.

Azriel took your silence as permission to continue. "I made a mistake. I will never be able to make up for it. Elain knew the second you left, I wanted to correct this. I was so blinded by her, by the feeling of being needed like that again, that I forgot how precious your independence was. How beautiful it is."

He couldn't stop himself from kissing the top of your head. "You are all I think about. Morning, noon, and night, it is always and will always be you. I am so sorry for what I have done. I am sorry for hurting you, for ruining us, for hurting the family we should be raising together. There are no words for my remorse."

"Why?" Your voice broke as you asked. "Why wasn't I enough?"

Azriel pulled back to look at you, hand raising to hold your chin and force eye contact. "Y/n, you are not at fault for my actions. You did nothing wrong. There is no partial blame, no what ifs. I fucked up. I made a mistake and it cost both of us everything. You are the victim of my actions, not the catalyst."

He saw you process those words and saw as they sunk in. "You were and are more than I will ever deserve. I want to spend my lifetime making up for it. Becoming a male you are proud of. I want to be the father I never got to have. I want to be the husband and mate you deserve. I know it will take time, and I do not expect your forgiveness today, but if you give me a chance, I will go to my grave worshipping the ground you two walk."

"Do you want to meet our son?" He broke at the question, feeling the bond opening back on your end. "This doesn't mean we're back together. It means we need to coparent for him while we work on things." He nodded rapidly, following you to the bassinet.

It felt like the world was coming full circle. You knew it would take time, that you two had many things to discuss first. This was a needed good start, though. Your pain eased slightly as you pulled back the curtains to the crib and whispered, "Azriel, this is Nox, your son."

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

**I have received some pretty nasty anon asks, some unconstructive comments, and a good amount of general negativity regarding this fic. If you are unhappy with the ending and want to know why I made the choices I made as the author, click #discussingherewithoutyou. Unconstructive comments will be receiving the same copy and paste answer from here forward.

My time and content are free. If you do not like them, scroll.

General Taglist:

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium

Azriel Taglist:

@elle4404

[discopaddock]

I DON'T WANNA TALK - CHARLES LECLERC

SUMMARY: charles is mad after the bad race, what can go wrong after screaming at his girlfriend?

PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader

GENRE: angst with happy (???) ending

WORD COUNT: 0.9k

WARNINGS: screaming, crying, charles is mad, traumatizing childhood and parent, ENGLISH ISN'T NY FIRST LANGUAGE

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hiya, was inactive for a (longer) moment, school still sucks, inspiration is taking offence at me and history at school does kill me right now fr (we started the great war recently and watched im westen nichts neues - i hate this kind of films). anyway this was based in this request.

Charles was angry. No, he was furious.

Race didn't go well. He had to retire after Perez touched him and he ended up in the wall.

Race was good, for two laps he was even leading but then the Mexican showed up and Charles’ good race said “bye bye”.

“Charles,” his girlfriend said after they were finally in their hotel room.

He wasn't in the mood for talking. He didn't want her pity. He wanted to take a shower (another one) and scream in his pillow.

The girl was looking at him, worried. This wasn't the state she has seen him for many times. It was the first time actually.

“I don't wanna talk” he answered only and grabbed some clothes of his and entered the bathroom.

“If you’d like to-” she started but he turned around to face her with anger written on his face, panting.

“Shut up!” Charles yelled at her and entered the bathroom. She was left speechless. There were tears forming in her eyes that started falling down when she heard the slam of the door.

Oh, she really didn't want it to come back.

Life was good, great even, then those memories came to her mind, causing another session of crying.

The girl had no idea what to do.

Her eyesight wasn't so clear as she was looking for the tissues, convinced that her make up was smeared as hell.

When she finally found some in her bag, she next jumped on the bed and covered herself with the blanket.

Her heart was hurt, it didn't crack in shatters but still it hurt as hell.

She felt like that seven year old girl, who was standing in front of her father, crying because he yelled at her.

She was screamed at because of trying to make her dad come to terms with her beloved mother.

It was too much for little Y/N. It hunted her for years.

Especially now, when her and Charles were trying everything to have a baby. She was frightened she became the same as her father and her child would have to experience the same case as she had.

And now it was too much for adult Y/N.

She knew she should meet her therapist as soon as she could but she couldn't since she was travelling with her boyfriend around Asia for the next two weeks and her therapist wasn't doing online appointments.

And there she was, still lying on her side of the king-size bed covered with a blanket and still crying.

Charles wasn't aware of his girlfriend's reaction to his behaviour until he left the bathroom, all showered and with a clear mind, and heard sobs in the room.

He sighed only and went to the bed and took a seat beside the girl. He carefully took off the blanket of her face and saw her with smeared make up, red eyes and runny nose.

She didn't want to talk with him and put her head in the pillow, so he couldn't look at her.

“I'm sorry-” he started but her hushed by the pillow voice interrupted him with:

“I don't wanna talk.”

So Charles didn't talk more but kissed her head quickly and left to the living room, to give her space he knew she needed.

The next hour went, well, silent.

Y/N wasn't sobbing anymore, just blowing off her nose and coughing from time to time. Charles at the other hand was thinking about his new song and was trying to write any notes but he lacked at stave paper and at any keyboard or piano.

The girl finally got out of the bed and entered the bathroom. She grabbed some cotton pads and put micellar water on it and began to remove her make up.

It was a heavenly feeling for her, since her eyelids were sticking to each other because of the mascara.

Next she grabbed some cleaning foam and removed the rest of the cosmetics and put on the cream.

The girl left the bathroom and went to Charles who was sitting on the couch with some folded paper around.

He heard her steps and turned around to see her face.

“Ready to talk?” he asked only and she nodded, then sat beside him. “I'm sorry, truly” he said, looking into her eyes, that he loved so much. Now they were puffed and red from the crying.

“I know” she answered and hugged him like a koala. Charles wrapped his arms around her body, without saying any words.

“What happened?” the man asked, rubbing her back with his palm. “Tell me, I'm not leaving this without any explanation,” he added in a calm tone.

The girl was silent for a few moments. But then she told him only:

“Father was screaming at me for trying to help.”

Charles was speechless. He knew his girlfriend’s relationship with her father wasn't good, but he didn't know it was that bad. He never asked since her mother told him not to for the girl's mental state.

“I'm sorry, dove. I'm so sorry” he whispered to her ear, trying to comfort her the best he could.

“I don't want to be like him” she mumbled in the crock of his neck and he sighed.

“You are not like him,” he assured her. “You will never be like him,” he added and kissed her temple. “You are a better person than him, dove.”

“I love you” she mumbled.

“I love you too” she whispered back and they remained silent for the rest of the night, cuddled in each other’s arms.

masterlist

[scoutswritingcorner]

More Papa Headcanons!

PLATONIC Papa!Alastor & GN!Child!Reader

Angst Flavored~

First Part

TW: ANGST- Just a teeny tiny bit. For the soul. Oh and Susan is mentioned.

A/N: Enjoy~

I usually leave this part up to you guys, the readers of my ramblings, but what if you were born out of wedlock? You are technically Alastor’s bastard child. Especially during that time period? That was greatly frowned upon and you never knew who your mother was! But despite all of that, Alastor and his Mom adored you. (Don’t get me wrong she probably chewed his ass out for it but she adored you.) 

Now, as you grew older people started saying it to your face, even kids at your school. But everytime you brought it up to Alastor he got angry, not at you, so he teaches you how to defend yourself and makes sure that you know to never start a fight. 

But once in hell, the name still sticks. Susan once overheard Alastor and Rosie’s conversation about it and called you that to your face. (Mean ass old woman right there.) And to say you were upset was an understatement, you knew better than to get into adult’s business but you just ran to your Papa sobbing cause you had thought you escaped that treatment. Despite being in Hell. You’re just clinging to his pants as you try your darndest not to cry but gosh the words keep echoing, both Rosie and Alastor are immediately worried about you. Cause you never cry or cause too much trouble!

Once they hear what Susan said? Rosie has to keep Alastor from flipping his lid. You stay by his side the rest of the day too scared to go play with the other kids in Cannibal Town. It shouldn’t bother you too much but you’ve been called that your entire few years of living and now it’s followed you down to Hell? What if the others start doing such a thing? 

Not to worry, Auntie Rosie shuts the whole thing down if she even catches a whiff of it. 

NOW ONTO NICER THINGS-

Full credit to @aceblaze01 for the idea of Vox being in Child!Reader’s afterlife! Especially when he and Alastor were hanging out(idk if I should call them partners). He was like an odd Uncle to you! Also 100% would let you watch kids cartoons on his screen, but you were so confused by it that you stood there staring at him before finally getting comfortable to sit down and watch those weird picture shows your papa talked about. He would totally put on Disney films for you. 

You watched Bambi once and ended up crying. He had to hold you and calm you down before Alastor was alerted. After that he stuck with everything else but Bambi. 

You sometimes go with Alastor to Overlord meetings and sit next to him drawing, not paying any mind to what’s going on either. You mostly draw your Papa and Auntie Rosie but you’ve started to draw Vox and that man cries when you hand him the drawings of him with very shaky handwriting and misspelled words. He loves it and keeps it hung up on his wall framed and everything. You gave a drawing to a lot of the nicer Overlords as a thank you for letting you join with your Papa. You gave one to Zestial, Carmilla and many of the unnamed ones that didn’t look too scary..you gave those to your Papa so he can give it to them. 

Even after all those years and Alastor’s falling out with Vox as a whole, he kept your drawings still safely framed. He doesn’t have the heart to get rid of them. Valentino said one bad thing about them and got the shock of his afterlife. That’s the last time he brought it up. He still checks up on you, makes sure you're alright. Even though he can’t physically be next to you cause Alastor would lose his fucking shit, he makes sure he has people check up on you. 

Vox has killed people who even thought of putting a hit out on you before Alastor ever caught wind about it. He’s not a man to play around with when it comes to you- his little niece/nephew/nibling (gender neutral term for niece/nephew).

During exterminations? Alastor stays with you the whole time. He doesn’t need anything hurting you. He keeps you in his room with books and anything else you want to bring. When you're in the hotel and extermination is around the corner, while the hotel is relatively safe. He still makes sure you stay far away from any doors leading to the outside. 

Oh boy, you are the only one able to sit in his tower with him while he works! He has a chair designated for you and will answer any and all questions about his work (even if they do get silly and repetitive). You’ll fall asleep sometimes when he’s on air and he doesn’t miss a beat wrapping his jacket around you as he continues to talk.

Taglist: @littledolly2345, @aboyscriminalrecord

[lipringlrh]

i know it wont work | CL16

"I hate to look at your face and know that we're feeling different.” - i know it won’t work, gracie abrams

summary: you don’t love charles anymore and it’s wrong to keep dragging him along.

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

an: wrote this ages ago but remembered it. happy charles contract day !!!

word count: 1.8k

warning: a bit suggestive? breakups and angst, sad charles who likes to beg x

feedback and reblogs appreciated !!

we need to talk.

He received the text from you this morning, but he didn't want to respond. He knew what was coming but he had been ignoring it and trying his best to fix it for the past month.

He could feel you falling out of love with him over the past few weeks and he had tried everything to fix it. He'd bought you flowers, took you on fancy dates, and constantly did your favourite activities with you. It's not like he wasn't doing that before, he most definitely was, but he made it more often and romantic than before. The last thing he wanted was to lose you.

You would've said the same every day of your life until recently. You didn't know how it happened, or when or why, but it did and you hated yourself for it. You didn't want to fall out of love with Charles, you always believed you'd be together for the rest of your lives, so when you realised it was happening you ignored it, trying to force the feelings back. You immersed yourself in the dates he took you on and tried so hard to love him but you couldn't help it anymore.

It didn't take much time to realise Charles knew. He could always read you better than anyone else which you usually loved. He spent days crying into your arms, holding you and refusing to let you leave, mourning the relationship he knew was coming to an end. Neither of you addressed it though, you just waited, hoping the other would talk first. Despite loving him less and less, you loved the relationship you had with him, and you didn't want to leave him.

It was unfair though, you realised. You'd stare at each other and you could see easily how in love he was with you whilst you felt nothing. It was horrible dragging it on, especially knowing he knew, and you couldn't spend time with him without feeling incredibly guilty.

You didn't know how to go about it, telling the man you thought you'd spend your life with you didn't love him, but after sending the text, you knew you'd started it the wrong way.

You weren't surprised by the lack of response, you guessed it might happen, but you stayed home all day knowing he would show up at some point. And at quarter past eleven at night, he did.

You both were sat on the same sofa, not too far apart but far enough you couldn't touch each other without leaning. Charles hadn't looked at you since he arrived, he stared mostly at the floor, very occasionally looking up. It wasn't hard to notice the colour of his eyes - they were bright red, most likely from a mix of crying and rubbing them.

You sat in silence for a while, neither of you saying anything, neither of you wanting to admit the truth. Neither of you had told anyone the issues over the past month, but a few close friends had some ideas.

Charles was playing with his fingers, ripping off skin at the corners, he didn't want to hear what he knew you were going to say but he couldn't sit in the silence any longer without crying.

"Please just get it over with," he whispered, hoping he had the completely wrong idea for the last month.

You paused for a moment, taking deep breaths, trying not to cry yourself, "I'm not in love with you anymore."

It made you feel sick to finally say it out loud. You hated yourself for feeling it and for bottling it in for so long.

The room was silent again but not for long. Charles' head was in his hands, and small sobs could be heard from him.

"Charles, I am so sorry. I didn't want this to happen, I wanted to spend my life with you, I promise."

“Don’t, please,” he cried, voice shaking.

You started to focus on your own breathing again, forcing yourself to hold back from crying, “we can’t be together anymore.”

He looked up, straight at you. You could see his face fully now for the first time, Tears ran down his face, which was already blotchy. He looked tired and hopeless, and you feared he’d only get worse.

“Yeah, no shit,” his voice started off strong before breaking completely at the end, sending out another wave of sobs.

“God, I am so sorry, Charles, I am so sorry,” you sniffled, beginning to cry yourself.

He just shook his head and places it back in his hands. His full body was shaking and he was sobbing harder than you thought possible.

“Can you- can you hold me please?” he choked, barely holding back his cries.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea-”

“Please,” he begged, shamelessly. He didn’t care anymore, you knew he needed you, he didn’t need to hide it.

You moved closer to him, barely, still keeping a safe distance. You placed a hand on his head, not sure what else to do.

Charles made the next move and placed himself right next to you, almost on top of you. He leaned into you, pressing his head into your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around him subconsciously, pulling him closer.

He carried on shaking into you, letting out strangled sobs. They never seemed to end, he just seemed to carry on for what felt like forever. You cried too, into his hair, occasionally pressing tender kisses wherever you could reach.

"Please let me stay tonight, it's too dark for me to drive. Let me just have one last night with you please," he begged, still crying into your shoulder.

You knew it was bullshit - he drove just as well at night as in the day and it was just as dark as when he came, but you didn’t have the energy to dispute him.

“Charles-”

“Please, baby, just one night. Just one.”

You couldn’t answer him. It would be so wrong to say yes but it felt wrong to say no.

“Let me have one last good memory. Let me prove what you’re missing,” he tried pleading again.

You sighed, nodding, not that he could see you. He could feel you though but wasn’t entirely sure if your movements meant anything.

“Hmm, you want to? Please, baby. Talk to me.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, yes? Talk properly.” he ordered, sharply yet quietly, taking more control over his tears.

“Yes Charles,” you responded. He tried to look at you pointedly, silently pushing you for more, but with his tear-stained face it didn't work too well. After knowing him better than anyone, you understood though, “Yes Charles, you can stay.”

“Good answer,” he whispered, turning back into your neck, pressing lazy kisses up and down, “such a good answer angel.”

“Charles,” you almost whined. Almost. It’d be wrong to let him have you the way he wanted whilst he was in this state but God did it feel good.

He was moving down your jaw, leaving wet, loving, kisses in the wake. He was pushing himself into you, moving against your thigh.

“Let me make love to you, baby,” he moaned, rutting his hips faster against yours, “don’t refuse. I know you can’t resist me. Please.”

His face was pressed into your neck, switching between sucking and biting down. His hands moved further down, touching your chest and body in all the right places.

“Yes. Please, Charles.”

————

You slept well that night, better than you had in a long while even though you were still wrapped up in Charles’ arms. You were woken up by him, dabbing light kisses down your neck.

Light fled in through the window, hitting you and Charles perfectly. You awoke to feel his hair tickling your chin, his lips now kissing across your shoulder.

“Charles, not again,” you groaned, not wanting him to stop at all, but you were beginning to feel guilty. You just spent a night with a man who loved you unconditionally, knowing that you didn't, "Come on, Charles, get up."

He carried on kissing you, moving towards your collar bone, then inching further down, "we can go again."

You tangled your hands in his hair, moving his face up, away from your body.

"No, Charles," you paused, taking in a sharp intake of breath as Charles began kissing your jaw, "Charles, you need to go."

He stopped instantly and looked up at you. It was easy to notice the sudden change in demeanour. His playful attitude was gone, replaced with a much more miserable one. He already looked like he was going to cry again.

He'd put last nights conversation to the back of his mind, only focusing on the fact he had you all to himself. He didn't want to remember it either.

"Is there anything I can do to make you love me?" he whispered, brokenly, on the verge of crying again.

He rested his head on your chest, beginning to sob into you. His body was lightly shaking, only getting more vigorous as time went on. You couldn't respond to him - you couldn't even look at him. Guilt ate you up inside, you wanted to love him.

"I think you should go, Charles," you spoke, your voice cracking. You were crying now too.

"I want to stay."

"I don't love you Charles," you cried, "I think it's best if you leave."

"Could you love me again?" he pried, barely being able to speak between gasping for breath, his crying taking over his whole body.

"I think you should go."

"Can you answer me?" he begged.

You didn't want to but you had to. You repeated yourself again, "I think you should go, Charles,"

He propped himself up on his arms, his face over yours. He had tear tracks down his face. He was hopeful when he shouldn't be, "you're not saying no."

"I'm saying I think you should go."

"Please," he asked again, wanting nothing more than you to give in. He always believed, deep down, you were it for him, his forever person, and he really didn't want to give you up.

"Please go, Charles," you pleaded, refusing to look at him. If you could go back in time and fix your feelings, you would, in every timeline, but you couldn't and you regretted it every second.

"I'm going," he sighed, defeatedly, getting up from the bed. He grabbed his clothes, dressing himself with little effort.

He took his time, trying to savour every last bit of time with you, even if it was bittersweet. He took one last look at you before he was out of the door, holding your gaze for as long as he could.

"I promise you I'll love you forever, call me if you'll let me".

[doitforbangchan]

It’s not fair - S.C

Masterlist

Changbin x reader (afab)

Summary: As your best friend, he can't just let you rot away... especially since he's in love with you.

This was an emergency request from my lovey Bumble Bee @ayejaii who I just adore. I hope you enjoy, my dear friend :)

Warnings: Angst, crying, hurt/comfort, fluff, kissing, suggestive, cursing, Bestfriends to lovers trope, Binnie being perfect. Not proofread

WC: 1.6k

There was a distinct melancholy in the air surrounding your apartment.  The curtains have not been drawn in days, making it seem mustier than Changbin had ever seen it. He had been calling you and texting you for days but you hadn’t answered once. Even though he had been your best friend for a few years, never once had you ignored him. He knew something must have happened and in his state of intense worry he sped to your home the second his recording session was over. Good thing he had the spare key you had given him in case of emergencies.

The first thing he did when he entered was scouring the room for you. The living room looked untouched from the last time he was here a few days ago. Right before your latest date with your dickhead fling. When he didn’t find you in the living room or kitchen he shuffled to your bedroom. 

The door was cracked open, a gap big enough for your cat to fit through. Changbin peered inside the dark room, finding a cocooned lump in the middle of your bed. Your fluffy cat was curled next to you but upon his entry into your space got up from her lying position, letting out a little ‘mew’ in greeting to her second favorite human. 

Changbin gave the cat a little scritch on the chin, before he sat on the edge of your bed. “Y/n? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” You didn’t answer, he only heard a quiet sniffle come from the mass of blankets. “I’ve been worried about you, ya know. You haven’t been answering your phone. Not since you went out with Mike.” He said the man's name with a tone of disgust. Changbin had been in love with you since you first became friends all those years ago, and knew your fling didn’t deserve you. “Have you been laying here since then? It’s been 3 days.”

 At the mention of the name, you let out a sob, your body shaking as you did. “Stop, Bin.” You croaked out, voice sounding like you hadn’t spoken words in days. 

His mind immediately went to the worst, panic striking his body, ”Did.. Did he do something to  you, Y/n? Did he hurt you?” 

You peeked your face out of your cocoon just enough to meet his eyes. Your own eyes were puffy and red, as if you had been crying for hours on end. “No Changbin. He didn’t hurt me. Not physically at least.” 

“What do ya mean, sweetheart?” He was confused, he thought things were going well with the dickhead. 

“He..he broke up with me.” You sobbed, reburying your face in your covers. 

“Oh honey, come er’,” he laid on your bed with you and cradled you into him. “He was a fucking dipshit who didn’t deserve you anyway.” 

“I am so tired, Bin.” 

“What are you tired of, y/n?” He tried to keep his voice even and soothing.

“I am so tired of men treating me like trash. Like I’m some toy they can throw away when they’re done playing with me.” Your shaking got worse, hiccuping between words. “ I try so hard to be good for them, be who they want me to be, but it doesn’t matter. None of it fucking matters.”

“Don’t say that. None of it is your fault. You don’t have to change yourself for anyone, let alone some low life.” He had fury in his tone, though he was doing his best not to let it show. 

“But it is my fault!” you flung the blankets off you as you sat up. Your voice was hysterical. “He told me it was! That I- I wasn’t enough for him. That I wasn’t the kind of girl he could see himself with in the long run. Why am I so unlovable?” 

“That’s not true!” Changbin exploded. You were shocked at his outburst. “You are loveable! In fact I know someone who would kill to be with you, and treat you like you deserve!” 

“Who, Binnie? What kind of man would want to be with a mess like me?!” you cried. 

“Me, goddamnit!” Fuck, this is not how he imagined he would confess to you. It's too late now. “I am in love with you!” 

Your tears came harder, “ Don’t say things you don’t mean, Changbin. It’s not fair.” 

He cupped your cheeks, “What’s not fair, is how long I’ve spent pining after you. How long I’ve spent trying to show you how a man is supposed to treat a woman.” He was staring right into your eyes, being the most serious you had ever seen him. “It’s not fair that I have had to watch you go out with dirtbag after dirtbag, while I waited and hoped and prayed that you would finally see who was right here…me.” 

You paused, glassy eyes wide. “Why did you never say anything?” 

“What was I supposed to say? That I was in love with you while you were dating someone else? That I didn’t want you to be with anyone else? I couldn’t be selfish, not with you.” 

“Oh Binnie” You flew at him, burying your face in his muscular chest. Your fingers grasped onto his shirt, trying to bring him as close as possible. “I have seen you there. I’ve always known your worth.” 

“Don’t lie to make me feel better.” He whispered, his anguish showing in his voice. 

“I’m not lying!” you wailed, “I have been in love with you for years, since we first met at Hyunjins birthday party!” 

He remembers it so clearly, he often replays it in his mind. Being enamored with your soft smile and bright personality when Hyunjin introduced you a few years back. The pink dress you wore had hugged your figure just right, and your fluttering lashes had him in a trance. At the time, he was too chicken shit to ask you out for a real date, so instead he settled on being your friend. 

“You were always so good to me, Bin. It’s impossible not to fall for you.” You sniffled, trying to make him see. “You always treat everybody so well, I didn’t think you felt the same way about me. I didn’t want to confess and be turned down by you. I couldn’t bear to be on the receiving end of your polite grimace you always have when rejecting a girl. Or even worse, have you feel bad for me and agree to date me in some self sacrificing way, making yourself miserable.I guess that's me, unable to be selfish with you.” 

You waited with baited breath for his response. What you got instead was him wrapping his thick arms around you, and his face in your hair as he…laughed? 

“You’re telling me, I waited so long for you to see me there. For you to love me like I do you. And you’ve been over here, feeling the exact same way? For years?” His laughing mingled with his now teary cries as he took in the situation. “Maybe it’s us who’s the actual dipshits.” 

You couldn't help the watery giggles that escaped you. “ I think you’re right, Bin. We’re possibly the biggest idiots on earth.” 

You both just held each other for a while, cry-laughing together on your bed. Eventually he was the first to pull away. Changbin wiped his watery eyes as he gazed down at you. Even with a puffy tear stained face you were still the most beautiful woman in the world. 

His rough hands cupped your cheeks again, and he held your eye contact as he slowly leaned in closer. “If this isn’t what you want, I need you to stop me now,” he whispered. 

“It’s all I want, Bin. You’re all I want.”  You were the one to close the gap, your lips smashing into his with a delicate intensity. He reciprocated just as fiercely, almost as if this was a dream he would soon wake from. 

Changbin knew if you’d let him, he could swallow you whole. Make you his in every way possible. Your little whimpers that escaped you when you bit on his lip didn’t go unnoticed. But, as much as he would love to take it further, he understood it wasn’t the right time. Sex wasn’t what you needed right now. 

“Sweetheart,” he started, his words muffled when you wouldn’t let him pull away completely. you hummed, reaching for the hem of his shirt. “Baby, we can’t right now. As much as I’m dying to finally get you naked, there are more pressing matters.” he managed to gently push you off. 

“But Binniiiieeeee.” you whined with a pout. 

“I know, my love, I know” he cooed, patting your hair, before standing from your bed. “ first things first, you gotta eat something and shower.” He scooped you into his arms as you squealed a laugh. “And let’s get this place aired out, huh? It reeks of despair in here.” 

“Ugh fine” you relented, stomach growling at the promise of food. Plus if it meant you could stay in his arms longer, you would do anything he asked. “on one condition.” 

“And what’s that, sweetheart?” he asked amused when you plopped you on your bathroom counter. He then turned on the bathtub tap letting it fill up for you. 

“You have to take a bath with me.” There was a twinkling in your eye as you purred it. 

“Fuck, you can’t say things like that. It’s not fair.” He ran his hand through his hair, looking flustered. 

You pulled your shirt off, flinging it at him.

“Who ever said I was fair?” 

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

©doitforbangchan

[elaratyrell]

Poor Unfortunate Souls {Part 3/3 -> FINALE} … Jace's Version

*All images found on Pinterest. Moodboard made by yours truly*

Dark ! Ursula! Aemond x Fem! Eric! Reader x Ariel! Jacaerys

Warnings: Language probably, reader is still mind controlled, Aemond's a dick, Aemond kicks a dog but it's unharmed, non- consensual touching (Aemond's gets a little handsy {well, tentacle-y, if you get my drift}), minor angst but a happy ending!!! Not entirely proof read (yet) *Divider from Firefly Graphics*

Synopsis: Jacaerys Velaryon, the reluctant heir to Atlantica. The moment he saw you, he knew he would never see someone who could capture him with their beauty again. You would haunt him eternally. In a desperate attempt to meet you, he turns to Aemond Targaryen, an outcast from the merfolk, to help him walk amongst the land dwellers. But when Aemond lays his eyes on you, he knows he has to have you. By any means necessary.

Chapter Synopsis: Jace desperately tries to stop your wedding to Aemond before sunset, but will he be able to break the spell his crazed uncle has on you? And if he does, will you feel the same way about him?

Part One Part Two Aemond's Ending

A/N: I'm sorry this has taken so long to write, I've struggled with motivation and burnout. BUT... the trailer, Harry's recent instagram posts, all of the Ewan content we've been getting over this past week and listening to the little mermaid soundtrack on repeat has relit a spark inside of me. Enjoy! Aemond's part should be published before Christmas

Jace hadn't dared to leave his room all day.

He didn't want to in fear for seeing you or Aemond.

The thought of you marrying that monster made him sick to the pit of his stomach.

And he felt embarrassed.

Embarrassed over how stupid he had been.

He should have known that Aemond had an ulterior motive. He should have known there was something else planned. Looking back on it, it was obvious that his uncle had developed a depraved obsession with you. The way he knew about you, tried to intercept him at every turn. Jace thought that Aemond just wanted him to fail but seeing that... it had made everything abundantly clear.

And now his soul was to be claimed by Aemond. And what would most certainly be an even worse fate awaited his family, his people, especially poor Luke. Aemond would save the worst for him. And you... Jace immediately shook the thought from his mind. He didn't want to think of what Aemond had in store for you.

At some point during the day, Jace had moved from leaning against the door to sitting by the window. His gaze would rest on his two legs, something that he had always dreamed of possessing, now seeming obsolete. Where he had previously looked upon them with wonder, he now looked at them with nothing short of resentment, disgusted with how his selfish impulsiveness had sealed his entire kingdom, family and the woman he loved to a terrible fate.

He regretted ever following your ship that night.

He regretted seeing you, falling for you, letting those feelings and fantasies of living on the surface with you cloud his mind.

And yet despite that, his heart sank when he saw your wedding ship leave the port from the view of his window, head resting against the glass, watching as you drifted further and further away from him. Were you feeling nervous? Happy? Did you think of him at all?

You hadn't even said goodbye.

Perhaps Jace had merely been a burden, a duty to you. Someone that you felt you needed to help, but not to care about.

His eyes squeezed shut as he felt a new wave of tears cloud his vision for what was likely the twentieth time that day. His body heaved in a silent sob, his head dropping to rest on his brought up knees.

He could only imagine the look of disappointment on his mother's face if she could only see him now. Or the cruel, mocking one that would no doubt cross Daemon's as he showed Rhaenyra that every jab he had sent Jace's way had been true. That he was nothing but a weak, unworthy prince of the realm. An unfitting heir to the throne that Aemond would likely attempt to usurp from her.

Feeling a small nudge against his cheek, Jace tilted his head to see Syrax perched on his shoulder. Perhaps it was his own tear stained vision, but it almost seemed as though she were crying too.

Jace lifted his head and attempted to give her what he hoped was a small smile, but his face shortly crumpled again, tears streaking down his cheeks. Syrax placed her claws either side of his face in a sort of hug, her head resting against his. It was strange, but it comforted him, quieting his sniffles and calming his breaths.

Yet all he really wanted was to see his mother, to feel the warmth of her embrace one last time. To amend their relationship that had been fracturing for some time now.

The somewhat tender moment was interrupted by a loud smacking thud against the window, causing Jace to jump and Syrax to almost slip and fall from his shoulder.

Jace hastily leaned forward to unlock and open the window to let a very distressed Cannibal into the room, the bird squawking loudly as he landed on Jace's knee.

Jace attempted to calm the bird down, but nothing seemed to work. Cannibal hopped of the prince's knee, hovering in the air, as though miming himself flying in the sky. He then suddenly dived onto the unmade bed, hiding behind the bedpost, staring at the ground like he were spying on something.

Jumping onto the bedroom floor, he covered his left eye with his wing, his beak upturned in an almost sinister grin as he let out a choked squawk that bordered on a laugh, pointing at his chest with his other wing. Hopping to face the other way, he pinned his wings by his side, wiggling his body from side to side.

Jace rose to his feet and hurried over to the desk, grabbing a sheet of parchment. He opened the ink bottle, dipping the quill inside several times before scrawling onto the parchment. Black ink dropped onto the parchment, and his handwriting was nothing short of a scratchy sprawl that was just about readable. He lifted the parchment to show Cannibal and Syrax, who had joined the bird on the floor.

'Aemond and Vhagar?'

Cannibal squawked loudly, jumping in the air, covering his head in an almost facepalm.

Jace's brows were furrowed in evident confusion as he watched Cannibal try to get his point across again.

He hopped to the side, raising his wing over his head, feathers arranged to mimic your hair.

'Y/N?'

Cannibal nodded with another squawk before continuing.

He walked a few steps pretending to be you before resuming his Aemond persona, creeping up behind where he had been you seconds before, once again letting out that strange laugh, his wing patting his chest as though holding something. His other wing stretched out towards where you would be standing, feathers wiggling slightly. From an outside perspective, the sight would look almost comical, but Jace was too concerned over what Aemond could be up to properly notice.

'Aemond's necklace?'

The bird nodded again before flapping to the dresser and grabbing the dinglehopper resting atop it, holding it in one wing and up in the air jabbing it in random directions across the room.

'My mother? Her trident?'

Cannibal dropped the fork, returning to being Aemond once again and picking it up, then miming placing a crown atop his head.

'Aemond is going to steal the throne from my mother?'

Clearly growing impatient, Cannibal flew up to hover in front of Jace's face, squawking loudly at him before returning to the ground and bringing his wings together.

Jace placed the parchment down, his expression clearing as he grabbed the quill again, hand trembling slightly as he brought it down.

'Has he cast a spell on her? So I fail by sunset and he can then use my soul to trap my mother for the throne?'

Cannibal cawed softly, his head bowing in a single nod.

Jace dragged a hand through his curls, his jaw clenching and eyes steeling in resolve. He grabbed Syrax, stuffing the crab in his pocket before bolting out the room, Cannibal hot on his tail.

Upon reaching the port, he placed Syrax down on the ground, his chest heaving in deep breaths from sprinting down there. The setting sun was cast on the water's surface, making it seem like liquid gold. The boat, your wedding boat, was sailing towards the horizon.

Before the sun sets on the third day...

He didn't have much time, but he knew he had to at least try to save you from Aemond, even if he couldn't save himself.

Without hesitating, he leaped rather clumsily into the water, hearing Cannibal's squawk of alarm before sinking into the cold depths below.

It was a strange feeling, opening his eyes to the stinging rush of the water blinding him, arms flailing to keep himself afloat and break through the surface to breathe. He had no co ordination in his legs, which desperately kicked out beneath him to propel himself upwards.

He couldn't swim.

He suddenly felt himself being pushed upwards towards the surface, soon feeling the sun's dwindling warmth as he broke through, letting out choked splutters as oxygen filled his lungs again. Cannibal was hovering overhead, Syrax now balanced on one of the many barrels she had no doubt cut free to help support him, and Vermax appeared beside him, guiding him towards it.

He nodded in thanks to his companion, holding onto the barrel and resting his head against it as he caught his breath, wet curls plastered on his forehead.

Syrax dived beneath the water. When she resurfaced, she had the rope tied around the barrel between her claws, which she then tied around Vermax, pointing towards the boat. Jace began to kick out with his legs to help his friend while Cannibal flew off, loudly screeching as he did so. Jace's gaze was fixed on the boat, his kicks growing more and more forceful.

Syrax watched them for a short while, making sure they were on track to hopefully reach the boat in time before diving underwater once again and swimming in a different direction to find Rhaenyra.

The boat had seemed to come to a stop, making Jace and Vermax's journey that much easier. But as they grew closer to the grand vessel, far more impressive than the ship he had saved you from what now seemed like years ago, the soft melodies from the musicians sent a ripple of sickness through him.

The ceremony must have begun.

He had hoped that he could find you alone without involving any of your people. He didn't want to expose he or Aemond to them. That could give Daemon the excuse he needed to declare war on the surface, and he had enough issues to deal with as it was.

But you were the priority for the moment.

One problem at a time.

If he had to interrupt the ceremony and attract the entire kingdom's attention, that's what he would do.

Vermax pulled him to where the anchor was docked so he could grab the chain to pull himself up towards the deck. The metal dug uncomfortably into his palms, but he held on tightly nonetheless as he turned to his closest companion, giving him a small smile. He held out a hand for the fish to lean his head against for a moment before beginning to climb.

Whether that would be a bittersweet farewell or a simple a brief goodbye would remain to be seen.

Every one of his muscles ached and burned with fatigue as he continued his climb, but he still persisted, fuelled by his determination to save you from Aemond's clutches. He glanced down as he reached the deck, only to find Vermax gone, the barrel floating away, the rope untied, the water directly beneath him rippling slightly from someone- or thing- sinking beneath the surface.

Jace peered over the top of the deck, watching as you walked down the aisle. His breath hitched in his throat at the sight of you, of how breathtaking you looked. Any warmth he felt from seeing you disappeared when his gaze moved to where Aemond stood waiting for you, a small, yet rather smug, smirk on his face, arms clasped behind his back. His platinum locks were half tied back out of his face, a leather patch covering his scarred eye. He was dressed entirely in black leather, and seemed as though he would be more suited for a funeral rather than a wedding, a stark contrast to your angelic beauty.

Following you was Max, carrying a blue velvet cushion in his mouth to a chorus of aws from the crowd. He placed the cushion between you and Aemond, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he glared up at the latter. Yet you just stood there, staring blankly straight ahead. Aemond glanced towards the crowd for a moment before gesturing to the officiant to begin.

"Dearly beloved..."

Seeing everyone distracted, Aemond took that opportunity to kick Max away, the dog whimpering softly but appearing unharmed as he stalked away to sit by Grimsby. As Aemond had raised his leg, a flash of metal caught Jace's attention, and he just about managed to see a glimpse of the dragon glass dagger strapped to Aemond's side beneath his overcoat. His hands gripped the side of the ship tightly, cheeks flushed scarlet in anger as he watched Aemond grab your hands tightly, his eye raking your figure in a most sinful way, practically undressing you with his eyes.

Swinging a leg over the side of the boat, Jace crept onto the deck of the boat as quietly as he could, crouching down to sneak behind the back row.

"Do you, Aemond, take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," Jace heard Aemond reply, an air of smugness in his tone. And he had every right to be. The sun was nearly set beneath the horizon. Jace wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do, but he needed to act now.

A soft squawk above Jace alerted the prince, and he glanced up to see Cannibal flying overhead, followed by an entire flock of gulls. Jace followed the bird's gaze to where Aemond was stood, too engrossed by you to notice.

Until they dove towards him, that is, attacking on his left side.

Aemond managed to duck before they reached him though, glaring at the flock as they circled back around, no doubt for a second attempt.

The distraction allowed for Jace to edge around to the opposite side of the boat to get towards you. As he crept closer and closer, he heard cries of alarm in the crowd, followed by a scream as a heard of sea lions flopped onboard.

Jace ducked down behind a chair to avoid Aemond's gaze, the guests having since ran from their seats to escape the animal's path, leaving you and Aemond stood at the alter. Out of the corner of his eyes, Jace saw your guards raise their weapons to the animals.

He pushed the chair out of the way, standing between them and the sea lions, hands outstretched as he frantically shook his head at them.

"Stop! Don't shoot!" Grimsby had pushed his way to the front of the crowd. "Do not shoot. They won't harm her!"

"You!"

Jace turned to meet Aemond's glare, trying not to let the way you had grabbed your captor's arm for protection get to him.

'She is under a spell. She doesn't love him', he reminded himself, but it stung all the same.

Aemond opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment a circling pelican swooped down and dump its full beak of water on top of Aemond, drenching him completely. Aemond opened his good eye, his lips pressed into a thin line. There was a still silence so thick that even the strongest of swords could struggle to cut through.

Once again, Aemond opened his mouth to speak, but all that left his mouth was a yelp of pain as Max bit down on his leg. He kicked out his leg in an attempt to wrestle the dog off of him, but the animal's jaws were like a vice.

"Max! Max, let go now!" You yelled, glaring down at the dog, who slowly loosened his hold on Aemond, shrinking away from you.

Aemond smirked at Jace, despite his appearance, gesturing to the nearly disappeared sun.

Jace stepped towards you, his hand reaching out to brush against your upper arm. You turned to face him, the expression on your face one of pure indifference. Max crept behind jace, nuzzling against his other hand for comfort.

"Yes?" You raised an eyebrow.

Jace desperately searched his mind for anything, anything, that he could do to break Aemond's hold. But how could he? He wasn't educated in magic. He knew nothing of it. And he couldn't even try to talk to you in hopes of getting through to you.

A loud, shrill squawk behind you cause both you and Jace's gaze to turn to where Aemond had now grabbed Cannibal by the throat, the bird's beak clamped down on his pendant, glowing a vivid sapphire blue.

Of course.

The realisation dawned on Jace.

Aemond's source of magic.

He moved past you, crashing into Aemond and sending the both of them crashing to the floor. Upon impact, Aemond let go of Cannibal, sending the bird flying along with the pendant, which landed on the ground. Separated from the user of its magic, it shattered on impact with the boat's deck. From the shards of dragon glass arose a small ball of blue light, Jace's voice singing that song echoing from within as it floating towards him, leaving a small plume of blue smoke in its wake.

Jace watched as your hand came to clutch your head, your eyes flashing a vivid blue for a moment as the spell over you broke. You glanced down at your dress, before looking back up, a look of pure confusion on your face. Aemond had staggered to hit feet, glaring at Jace.

He let the voice float towards him, his voice growing louder the closer it came, circling around him and rising upward until it reached his throat, the light fading but the song growing stronger, this time coming from Jace.

Gone was the burning pain in his throat whenever he would open his mouth, or the constant sore hoarseness that brewed at the back of his mouth. Instead, he finally felt complete. There wasn't the feeling of having a sort of compression inside of him, the barrier had been lifted.

He turned to you, a smile spreading across his face as you stepped towards him, that usual warmth in your eyes replacing the vacantness that Aemond had created.

You came to stand in front of him. "Jace? It... it was really you?" Your voice was quiet, but thick with emotion.

Jace reached out, taking your hand in his slightly trembling on. "It's me."

You smiled warmly up at him. "I knew it," You whispered. "A part of me... it knew you were the one." Your grip on his hand tightened slightly as you pulled him closer towards you.

"Y/N, get away from him," Aemond growled, but you didn't listen. You didn't even grant him the courtesy of looking in his direction, keeping your eyes locked with Jace's.

"Y/N, I wanted to tell you... I couldn't he..." Jace tried to explain, but you shushed him, his forehead resting against yours.

"It's okay, Jace. It's okay," You whispered, taking his head in your hands.

"Y/N, no!"

Jace's ignored Aemond, his gaze flickering briefly down to your lips. He knew he needed to kiss you, but couldn't bring himself to do it without you wishing it. But you smiled, giving him a nod, tilting your head towards him slightly.

Jace leaned forwards, his lips a breath away from yours when a searing pain cut straight up his legs, causing him to crumple to the ground in your arms.

"Jace? Jace, what's wrong?" You asked. "Your leg?"

"No, no don't..." He weakly pleaded as you rolled his trouser leg up

He gritted his teeth in pain, his entire body tensed as he watched the skin on his legs shed into scales.

"What the... you're... you're a merman?" You whispered, eyes widened in shock.

"I tried to tell you..." Jace replied, ripping his trousers off to free his fully reformed tail. "I'm... I'm sorry..."

"Jace..."

"You're too late, nephew."

Jace looked up as Aemond came to stand in the centre of the deck, the triumphant smirk returning to his face. "You're too late," He chuckled darkly thunder rumbling overhead. A bolt of blue lightning crashed down and struck Aemond directly, and when the flash faded, Aemond had also returned to his natural form, those six tentacles replacing his legs to a chorus of gasps from the crowd.

One of his tentacles suddenly shot out and grabbed Jace by the tail, dragging him towards the edge of the boat and throwing him overboard.

"Leave him alone!" You yelled, rising to your feet and moving to follow them, but Aemond's tentacles kept you back.

"I apologise that our union was rudely interrupted, ñuha dārilaros," He smirked at you, one tentacle wrapping around your waist and pulling you to him as he ripped off his eyepatch to reveal the sapphire underneath. He knew that you would not look upon it with disgust like everyone else did. "But do not worry..." He continued, another tentacle creeping under your dress and up your leg. As the tip brushed against your clothed cunt, you let out a small gasp, causing his smirk to widen. "I will return for you soon... and I have every intention of making you mine..."

And with that, he released you and dove overboard.

Jace hadn't managed to swim far.

Not with Vhagar circling the shape, the massive beast circling him, trapping him for when Aemond joined them, that blue eye of hers glowing dimmer than before, but still glowing nonetheless.

"Poor, poor prince," Aemond's mocking tone alerted Jace to his arrival. "Poor little nephew."

"Do not mock me, uncle!" Jace exclaimed, hands clenched into fists by his side as Vhagar disappeared into the kelp below. "You cheated."

"Hm..." Aemond tilted his head to the side. "I do not recall our contract saying that I could not interfere. Love comes with its challenges and I merely wished-"

"No. You wanted her and used me to get to her. And then so you could kill me!" Jace interrupted.

"Don't be so dramatic, nephew," Aemond smirked, a tentacle grabbing his arm to pull him along behind him. "It is not even you that I am after. Not really anyway. There's a much bigger fish that I have to-"

"Aemond!"

The exiled prince's smirk widened as he turned to face Rhaenyra, her trident pointing directly at his throat.

"Sister," He greeted. "How are you?"

"Let my son go." She demanded, her eyes alight with a fire that concealed the worry behind them.

"Not a chance, sister," Aemond replied, his hold on Jace tightening. "He's mine now. We made a deal." His voice progressively grew in its mocking tone as he brandished the gold scroll with Jace's contract on. Rhaenyra's gaze scanned the scroll, her expression contorting to one of horror.

"I-I'm sorry, mother! I... I'm sorry, he-"

"Hush now, nephew. Can you not see we are having a conversation?" Aemond interrupted him, another tentacle wrapped around Jace's mouth to silence him. "Now, sister, where were we?"

Rhaenyra glared at Aemond, and pointed her trident at where the scroll was dangling from his grasp, a jet of gold light striking it with the intention of destroying it, but instead it harmlessly rebounded, the scroll now glowing bright blue.

"You see, sister? The contract's legal. Binding and completely unbreakable," Aemond replied smugly. "Even for you." He smirked, knowing he had her trapped. This was a plan, years in the making, finally being executed. And it was so satisfying for Aemond to watch unfold. "Of course, I always was someone with an eye for a bargain, so to speak. And the son of the great, powerful queen of the oceans is a rather precious commodity, do you not think?"

He relaxed his tentacles, both the contract and Jace being released, but before the prince could swim to Rhaenyra, the scroll stretching and fading into blue light which then surrounded Jace, spinning around him like a tornado.

"But, I also consider myself as reasonable, and I could be willing to make an exchange for someone... for something... even better..." Aemond added, a tentacle reaching out towards Rhaenyra's crown, making her flinch away from him in disgust.

"If you think..." Rhaenyra began, but when her gaze shifted to Jace, she faltered.

The light surrounding Jace had grown brighter as it slowly drained his strength, the prince beginning to shrink, his face hollowing and skin shrivelling. Yet he still managed to shake his head at his mother, despite knowing that it would likely prove pointless.

Aemond smirked at the sight, a new contract appearing before Rhaenyra. "Do we have a deal?"

"Mother... don't..." Jace gasped out, but Rhaenyra simply gave her son a small smile, raising her trident once again and with another flash of gold, her name was signed at the bottom.

"It's done," Aemond murmured, the scroll rolling itself up and disappearing. He waved his hand, and the blue whirlpool surrounding Jace grew and moved to instead enclose around Rhaenyra. The light burned harsher, shrinking and shrinking before dissipating to reveal Rhaenyra, once the proud ruler of Atlantica, nothing more than another soul claimed by Aemond, a grotesque creature identical to the hundreds of others trapped in Aemond's lair.

Jace swam over to where Rhaenyra was, her sad eyes gazing up at him as he shook his head. "Mother... I'm so... oh gods, I'm so sorry..." He bowed his head, eyes squeezed shut. When he lifted his head, Syrax had joined him, her whole form bowed down before her companion, who could only stare.

Aemond chuckled cruelly at Jace, lifting Rhaenyra's crown to place atop his own head. "At last... it's mine.." He murmured, lifting the trident as Jace turned to glare up at him.

"You are not even the heir!"

"I will be by the rising of dawn, taoba!" Aemond snarled in response. "When I eradicate Rhaenyra's entire lineage, the throne will be mine."

"Then Aegon will-"

"You think my drunken fool of a brother would dare oppose me?" Aemond tilted his head to the side. "Naïve, nephew. So naïve."

"You're a monster!" Jace spat at him, lunging forwards, but Aemond's tentacle smacked into him and sent him flying to the seafloor.

"Monster? No, nephew. A monster is the fool who banished me when her brat of a son removed my eye. A monster is the so called just and noble queen who banished me for demanding retribution for my permanent scarring. A monster... is responsible for the death of my mother, and she sealed the fate she is now subject to the day she sent me away." He pointed the trident towards Jace. "So don't you think for a second, nephew, that you can fool with me by branding me the monster. You foolish, little-" Aemond suddenly let out a grunt of pain, his free hand flying to where blood clouded the water from the graze on his upper arm.

Jace looked behind his uncle, spotting you several metres away, glaring at Aemond. Beside Jace, was a spear lodged into the seabed.

"Y/N, get back to the surface-" Jace began, but a tentacle clamped back around his mouth.

Aemond sent his nephew a small smirk as he raised his trident towards you. "What do you think nephew? Hm, it is tempting. However... even if someone doesn't seem to love you at first, there are other ways that you can claim them mentally... and physically." His lips curled into a grin as you shrank back slightly. "Yes, I can just put her under my spell again, and in time, she may return my love for her. But whether she does or doesn't is irrelevant... she'll be mine... and never yours, nephew."

Jace once again lunged towards Aemond, but was pinned down by several more tentacles.

"Oh nephew, do not humiliate yourself," He smirked, moving the trident slowly. Your gaze followed its path to where the ship was floating above the water a distance away, your face contorting into one of pure anger. You immediately began swimming as fast as you could to the surface.

"Vhagar, tolī zirȳla!" Aemond exclaimed, his beast emerging from the undergrowth on his orders. [after her]

Jace thrashed around, but his restraints held firm, rendering him helpless. He could only watch as you broke the surface for a mere moment, managing to splutter out something towards the boat before Vhagar dragged you back down again, her tail wrapping around you like a boa constrictor.

"I wish for you to witness this, ," Aemond said to you, once again pointing his trident to the ship. "I love you... but that does not mean I cannot hurt you."

Jace desperately strained against Aemond's hold, managing to break his arm free. He leaned forward, using all of his strength to grab the only thing he could.

Aemond's hair.

He yanked on it as hard and fast at he could, causing Aemond to grunt in pain as his head was rapidly pulled back, knocking him off balance just as the trident glowed gold, causing a flash to shoot out from the trident away from the boat. Instead, it struck Vhagar directly in the heart, causing the beast to explode into nothing more than a few shredded scales that floated to the seabed.

"No... Vhagar..." Aemond breathed, outstretching his hand to where she was, her scales falling onto his hand.

Jace pushed the tentacles off of him, hurriedly swimming over to where you were once again making your way to the surface. He pushed you upwards, one hand resting on your waist as he helped you.

You let out a choked gasp as you grabbed ahold of the small rowboat you had used to reach Jace, letting out a series of coughs.

Jace kept his hold on your waist. "Are you alright?" He asked worriedly, and you nodded in response, air filling your lungs.

"Yes... yes I... I'm fine..."

"Y/N, you need to get out of her," Jace urged.

"No, Jace-"

"You don't understand-"

"I can't leave you!" You insisted, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. "I'm not leaving you..."

"Y/N, I-" Jace began, but his gaze travelled to the water surrounding you both.

Even with just the silver glow of the moon and the distant light from the boat, he could tell it was clouded black with ink.

"Y/N... you need to get back to the ship-" Jace began, but a trembling beneath you both stopped him in his tracks.

"Jace, what-" You let out a gasp as you and Jace were both lifted from the water, separated by the spike of a crown. You gripped hold of the metal tightly, refusing to look away from Jace as Aemond emerged from the water.

"Jump!" Jace yelled, reaching over and grabbing her hand, the both of them leaping down beneath the waves.

Jace immediately pulled you protectively behind him as you stared up at Aemond towering above you. He must have been at least twenty feet tall, his eyes alight with pure, unbridled fury.

"You are a fool, nephew," He sneered at Jace, voice deep and booming louder than any thunder that rumbled in the storm clouds overheard. A tentacle came crashing down between the two of you, causing Jace to push you away out of its path.

"I now rule the ocean, Jacaerys! Even the waves obey my every whim! The sea, and all it's spoils will now bow to my power. And you... you will face my wrath," A wide grin now appeared on his face as he raised the trident and brought it down into the water, circling it around Jace to create a whirlpool around the prince sending him spiralling to the seabed, the water ensnaring him, trapping him on a rock. Lightning lit up the sky, the waves growing more violent, sweeping you further and further away from Jace and closer towards Aemond. All around you, wrecked ship broke through the surface, the barnacle encrusted wood rotting and the faded sails torn.

You grabbed ahold of a ship that swept by, holding onto the wood as tightly as you could, small splinters digging into the flesh of your palm. As the ship swerved away from Aemond, you took the opportunity to climb aboard. It seemed relatively newer than the other resurfaced wreckages, despite it's dire condition. Grabbing ahold of the wheel that was spinning out of control, you looked over to where Aemond was shooting lightning down at Jace from the trident.

"Just hold on a little while longer, Jace," You murmured, turning the wheel with the current and towards Aemond. Fortunately for you, the waves were heading directly towards him, the strong winds propelling you forward.

"Come now, nephew. You cannot evade this fate!" Aemond taunted. "Do not worry, I will take good care of her. So much for your true love, hm?"

He raised the trident once again, but before he could bring it down upon Jace, you steered the boat directly into him, the bowsprit, jagged from being broken, impaling him directly in the gut. Aemond yelled out in pain as you jumped off the ship, swimming away as fast as you could against the current. Turning back for a moment, you saw Aemond fall back as lightning shot through him, his eyes rolling back as he sank beneath the waves with a violent crash, sending a mass tidal wave that swept you along with it. You were smothered by the wave, only managing to resurface for long enough to take another gasp of air before being dragged under again.

You waited it out, managing to stay afloat as the wave calmed, treading the water as you looked behind you for any sight of Jace.

But all you saw was dark blue smoke billowing upwards towards the sky.

You let out a deep breath, keeping your head above the water as you kicked towards the beach, visibly close. The moment your feet made contact with the seabed, you practically crawled onto the sand, every muscle, every bone, every cell in your body completely exhausted.

"Y/N!"

Your head turned to the side to see Grimsby and Max running towards you from further down the beach, the ship a short distance away. The wave must have swept them up as well.

"Grim..." You murmured, gripping onto his arm tightly as he helped you to your feet, Max jumping up at you, glad that you were back to being yourself again. You gave him a soft smile, gently stroking his head.

"Oh heavens. Y/N, are you alright?"

"Fine..." You replied, glancing down at your tattered dress, completely soaked through.

"Come, now, princess. We must get you in a warm bath, and fresh clothes-"

"No! Grimsby, I need to wait for Jace and see if he's okay."

"Y/N, as your closest advisor, I strongly... well... advise... that you at least get some food in your stomach."

You sighed, still staring out at the horizon.

"If you survived, I have no doubt that he did as well," Grimsby said gently.

"Fine," You muttered. "I'll go and change. But you're staying here to look out for him."

"A-as you wish... but Y/N, will you not need help to get to the castle-"

"No," You replied firmly, already trudging up to the castle, your bare feet dragging slightly on the sand, Max right on your heels.

Carlotta was anxiously waiting by the castle gates upon your arrival, rushing over to you and immediately fussing over your rather bedraggled appearance. You brushed her off, walking to your chambers to change.

You felt sick to the stomach at the white shirts, the blue dresses and black trousers... anything in those colours that only reminded you of Aemond... of what he had done...

You threw them out of your wardrobe, ordering Johanna to wash them and take them into town to donate to anyone who needed them.

"May I make a suggestion, princess?" Carlotta spoke up.

"I would appreciate that," You sighed.

"I have the perfect one for you," She smiled knowingly, waiting for you to step aside so she could reach into the wardrobe, taking a hanger from the rail and holding it up to you. "Well? What do you think, princess?"

"I think..." You murmured, cocking your head to the side in contemplation. "That it's perfect."

Jace had watched as the whirlpool around him disappeared. He had seen Aemond collapse, watched as he sank out of view. Swimming to where he had fallen, he found his uncle, now back to his usual size, a rather large wound to his abdomen staining the water with a reddish hue. He reached down, taking the crown off his head, looking down at it.

He couldn't imagine it atop his head.

Feeling a warm hand rest on his shoulder, he turned to find his mother, restored to her full self, smiling down at him.

"Mother..." He murmured. "I... I'm so..." He bowed his head, letting out a deep breath. "I'm so sorry..."

"Oh, Jace," Rhaenyra tilted his chin upwards. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I shouldn't have pushed you away. Destroyed you beautiful collection. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Only if you forgive me," He whispered, immediately being pulled into her warm embrace. He immediately wrapped his arms around her tightly. When they broke apart, he reached down to where the trident laid several feet away from Aemond, holding it out to his mother, who took it from him with an appreciative smile.

"I can't... become king..." He sighed. "Not... not here."

"I know, my darling," Rhaenyra sighed, her free hand resting on his cheek. "The matter of my heir will be settled in due time-"

"Baela would be a good candidate," Jace spoke up.

"Indeed she would," Rhaenyra softly smiled.

"Jace? You're alive!" Luke exclaimed as he swam over.

"Luke, I told you to stay at the palace."

"I did, mother. I stayed for half an hour, and then left to follow you," He replied, faltering slightly as he saw Aemond's corpse. He stared down at the body, letting out a small scoff. "Well thank the gods," He muttered.

"Luke," Rhaenyra warned.

"He was a monster, mother. He tried to kill me!"

"Well, he's dead now. Thanks to your brother."

"Actually, it wasn't me," Jace piped up. "It was Y/N's."

"Y/N?"

Jace sighed, glancing up to where the water's surface was glowing orange with the dawn.

"Jace?"

"I need to show you something."

"Jace... if this is going where I think it is-"

"Please," Jace's eyes were pleading. "Please, mother."

Rhaenyra shared a glance with Luke, who nodded in encouragement. She let out a small sigh. "Very well."

Jace could sense Rhaenyra apprehension as they looked out towards the beach, the rocky shore that had greeted him after making his deal with Aemond separating them from the land.

"Is that her?" Luke asked, pointing towards where you were hurrying down the beach. All Jace could do was nod in response, his lips parted slightly as he gazed at you in awe.

You were dressed in a glittering red gown, the bottom of the skirt grasped in your hand. It had thin straps across your shoulders and a cowl neckline, hugging your curves perfectly. Your hair was loose, and still damp, your face void of any makeup, those ruby earrings you bought at the market dangling from your ears.

And to Jace, you had never looked more beautiful.

"Nice," Luke grinned with an approving nod, earning a glare from both his mother and older brother. "She's pretty..." He mumbled.

Jace swam forward, hoisting himself up on a rock, the very same rock that he sat on when he'd saved you on your birthday. He watched you walk along the beach, your gaze fixed on the horizon, Max barking happily at your feet.

"What is that?" Luke exclaimed. "It's all... weird and hairy!"

"Hush now, Luke," Rhaenyra murmured, her gaze resting on her eldest son. There was a soft smile on her face, but her eyes were brimmed with sadness. "He really does love her, doesn't he?"

"Must do," Luke replied. "I mean, he was ready to sell us to Aemond for her so... ow!" He yelped as Syrax, who had joined them on a nearby rock, pinched his arm in disapproval.

"He does, doesn't he?" Rhaenyra repeated her question, this time directing it towards her companion, who nodded in response.

"I was never truly permitted to be free and lead my own life," She mused. "It was expected of me to take the throne, I was raised for it. And there was no other worthy heir to claim it in my stead. It is just a shame... that it took him going to Aemond of all people to make me realise that I should not expect my children to suffer that same fate." She nodded to herself. "I suppose only one problem that remains..."

"And... what is that?" Luke asked, gently rubbing his reddened arm from where Syrax had pinched him.

"How much I am going to miss him..." She sighed.

Luke gazed up at his mother as she lowered the tip of the trident down on the oceans surface, casting a small ripple that grew as it came closer to Jace, the water surrounding the rock glowing gold.

Jace looked down as the gold consumed his tail, turning back to his mother in shock that soon turned into a soft smile as the light consumed him.

Max let out an excited bark, taking off down the beach, you hot on his tail.

You stepped into the water, the gentle waves lapping around your ankles and your free hand coming to shield your eyes from the bright light. When it faded, you expected to see Jace, but you were greeted with nothing.

Your shoulders heaved in a silent sigh, your head shaking in disappointment as you turned away, but Max letting out another bark caused you to turn back, a wide smile spreading across your face.

Jace emerged from beneath the waves. He was walking towards you on legs, dressed in a crisp white shirt and burgundy trousers, his chocolate brown curls fluttering in the sea breeze.

The moment he laid eyes on you, he broke out into a run, with you rushing towards him as well, throwing yourself into his arms. Jace lifted you up and span your around, his hold on you tight, as though you would slip from his grasp again.

But you weren't going to let go.

When he placed you back on the ground, Max excitedly circling around you both as you took his face in your hands and pressed your lips to his.

Jace immediately sank into the kiss, his heart fluttering.

"I love you," He murmured as you broke apart, his forehead resting on yours.

You smiled, hands sliding upwards to tangle in his curls. "And I love you, Jace. So much," You whispered.

A/N: One more part left...

…All I'm going to say is I hope you enjoyed the sweetness of this ending because Aemond's ending is going to be complete filth.

Hint: it involves tentacles.

Masterlist

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[sehtoast]

With Love to You, Thirty Years Later (Homelander x OC)

4k | time travel, angst, little homelander, adult homelander, graphic violence, hurt/comfort, spidersona oc | Fic Directory

benjamin would give the present if it meant soothing homelander's past

Benjamin didn’t expect to have to stick a landing, much less clench his eyes shut and hold back the contents of his stomach from making a surprise reappearance.  

Fucking jackass, Ben groans inwardly.  She didn’t warn him about anything more than the time limit. 

Vought had a dirty little secret. Deep in the vaults, in a facility outside of the city, they kept a supe far more dangerous than anyone knew what to do with.  A real bonafide time traveler able to send both herself and others to any time at all, even to specific locations.  All she needed was a little information and a visual, and… well…

That’s how the web-head ended up face down in the grass outside of the most haunting part of his lover’s life.  See, he couldn’t take it anymore.  For every night Homelander woke up in fits of panic, eyes glowing red and blankets torn to escape tortures long buried in the past, stories of agony and torture, humiliation and pain, Benjamin just… couldn’t. 

Especially after he found out about the woman in the vaults.  But, then again, who wouldn’t damn their own future to spare their greatest love from agony?

He brushes away grass clippings before heading inside.  Security was so lax.  He needed only to snatch a badge from an incapacitated guard to have full run of the place.  Once clipped upon the white lab coat he’d snagged from his own time, he looked perfectly the part.

Every nerve in his body feels wrong.  Even his sixth sense tingles in the strangest of ways. Whether it was because he was in danger or for having hopped back to the nineties was a mystery, but something was terribly wrong. 

Three hours. 

That’s all the time he has to find Homelander and break him free. With any luck he’ll get him somewhere safe, somewhere that Vought can’t find him before his time runs out.  If not…

He’d rather not think about it.  Entertaining the idea of failure isn't on the table– hell, it’s not even on the floor.  He has to save John.  

Every grainy scrap of footage he’d ever found of his love’s upbringing flashes in his mind as he descends the first elevator.  It’s enough to make him see red, and his skin crawls beneath his clothes and spider-suit. Recollections of every sobbed or dissociated detail his Johnny has ever told him… 

It’s all too much.  To know he’s going to walk in and see it in person is– it’s not–

It’s terrifying. 

It’s terrifying, and Homelander lived it.  He lived it every day for sixteen years only for it to adapt and change to consume his life in different ways.

The hair at the nape of his neck stands at attention when the elevator door dings and slides open, but he’s met with an empty room.  Concrete walls and abandoned folding tables.

But that doesn’t seem right to him.  Of course it’d be hidden, right?  That only makes sense.  Can’t have the state inspector showing up to check for mold and finding a little boy locked in an incinerator, right?

Vought would never shit where they eat.  

And he knows their tricks all too well at this point.  Ben pats his bare hands over the cold, hard walls.  There isn’t much to the room. There’s dust all over the furniture, and the floor checks out, so it must be the walls.  Something stupid– like a push mechanism or a scanner or something.

He pats around for some time until one slab of concrete feels just a little too warm under his palms.  He embeds the setae of his fingerpads into it and gives a hard tug, making it lurch.  He follows with a heavy push and the sounds of latches and mechanisms clicking slowly shifts the stone to the side, revealing another elevator.

This descent is even worse.  When the door opens, he’s met with a gun in his face and a room of men and women gawking as though they’d expected the feds to be raiding the place.

With a tap of his badge, the gun lowers and the bug enters.

“Hi, everyone,” he greets.  “I’m the new–”

A quivering cry jars him immediately, and Ben’s head rips over to the right to find the red glow of the incinerator burning bright through the glass window on the door.  His body moves faster than his mind can will it and he slaps the big red emergency shutoff button so hard it crushes into the wall.

An alarm blares, but the clicking of that firearm is clear as day.  The bug vaults backward before the first shot is fired, narrowly avoiding its ricocheted path through the cramped room.  A sweep to the guard's legs drops him to the ground and Ben pins him by the wrists, teeth bared.  It takes everything Benjamin has not to move his hold to the throat and squeeze the fucking life out of him.

He webs him to the floor, much to the horror of the onlookers and their frenzied whispers of him being a supe.  He disassembles the gun and chucks the slide and magazine to random ends of the room.  “Nobody fuckin’ moves,” he orders with a pointed finger.  The vitriol in his voice is not unlike Homelander’s.  So much hate and rage behind his commands.

It isn't undeserved. 

Ben makes a beeline to the incinerator door and all but tears it off its hinges.  He blinks through the waves of dispersing heat.

Out stumbles a boy, naked and almost entirely unrecognizable with his long blonde hair and baby-face to the man Ben knows in his own time.  The bug kneels down and shuffles his lab coat off within seconds to wrap it around John’s shoulders. He crosses it at the front to shield him from every sick bastard in the room who’s ever denied him such a bare minimum of dignity.

He’s still weeping from the pain.

“Hey, shh– it’s okay now.” Ben coos, tears welling in his own eyes.  “I’ve got ‘ya.” 

Seeing him is so much worse.  It’s real now.  It always has been, but now it’s… it's worse. That tortured little boy is sobbing in his arms and clutching the coat to his body. He's more than a memory now.  

Ben pets softly over John’s hair, grimacing at the presence of knots and the building layer of grime.  “M’gonna lift you up now, okay?  Hang on to that coat.”  

He waits for John to nod his consent before hoisting him up to his hip, supporting the boy’s weight with one arm while the other points around at the others to keep their distance.  As he looks at them, he fails to find any familiar faces.  In particular, Vogelbaum’s. 

“Who do you think you are?”  Asks one of the men.  A quick glance to his badge reveals his name is Frank.  “Do you have any idea–”

“Consider me your new boss.”  Ben snaps.  “Now go get him some clothes.”

“What–”

“Did I stutter?”

A quiet giggle next to his ear is about the only thing in the moment that brings about any lightheartedness.  He wonders when the last time was that John laughed in here at all. When anything was even just… nice.

“Hey, when was the last time you ate, huh?  You’re pretty light.”  Ben questions with that signature soft smile of his.

It’s like a lightning bolt of agony and joy to see him reciprocate it.  John shrugs.  “I… think this morning?”

“That’s no good, is it?”

John shakes his head.

“We gotta fix that then, right?” Ben puts his hand out to the crowd.  “Car keys.”  When none offer anything more than silent panic at the idea of their precious subject escaping, Ben singles out a woman– badge says Deborah–  and once again puts his hand out.  “Keys, Debbie.  Don’t be stupid.”

Benjamin smiles at her as she digs them from her pocket and shakily places them in his palm. The bug then turns toward the red door.  He feels John tense and the boy’s arm around his neck tightens.  

“S’okay.  Gonna web the door open.”

And he does.  He layers it with so much goo that the normal two hour dissolution was likely closer to six.  By the time the last layer crumbles, they should be long gone.

Ben sits beside John on his springy, awful excuse of a bed, elbows resting on his knees.  

God, what was he doing?  If he does this, Homelander stops existing.  The John he knows– his Johnny– may never be.  Ryan may never be. But wasn’t this the right thing to do?  Everything in Benjamin’s gut screamed to save the boy, but his heart shattered with every step closer to liberating him.

His and Homelander’s lives will be upended entirely.

But he can’t fucking take it anymore, knowing how his love suffered.

“Who are you?��  

His voice is so tiny. He's so little.  To think he was in that incinerator just moments ago…

The bug turns to face him.  “Ben.”  He answers, putting that soft reassuring smile back on his face.  “My name’s Ben.”

“What’s that?”  John asks, pointing to the red webbed sleeve coming out from the sleeves of Ben’s t-shirt.  

Inquisitive little guy.  Would probably love that twenty questions game.

“Part of my costume.”  He explains.  “I’m a superhero where I come from.”

John’s face lights up like a Christmas tree.  “You mean like Soldier Boy?”

Not the best comparison, but…

“Like Soldier Boy,” Ben hums.  He's nothing like Soldier Boy. “I’m–”

A knock at the wall interrupts them.  One of the scientists enters, a heavier man– sweat glistening on his receding hairline.  Ben glares at him as he approaches John, failing to catch how the boy looks down and away from him. That tingle in his head whispers its warnings.  No good.

Something’s wrong.

Something’s very wrong.

“These are f-for you. From Frank,” the man says, voice shaking.  “Here you go, Squirt.”

The bug's eyes widen. 

Squirt.

Squirt.

Benjamin knows this man even without checking the badge.  Knows the story.  Knows the foul meaning behind that fucking nickname.  The dread and shame it causes. 

That it caused. 

A glance over and he sees John avoiding eye contact, gaze locked on the floor.  The boy pulls the lab coat tighter around his body.

Something snaps.

“Get on your knees, Marty.”

He remembers every night he ever held Homelander.  Every time the humiliation came back to haunt his love.

He looks at Benjamin with knit brows and a polite, confused smile.  “I– I’m sorry?”

“On your knees.”  Ben says.  It’s like something has ahold of his body.  His rage is… different than ever before.  It’s workable. Calm.

Precise.

Would the bug have done this years ago?  Would he have done anything like this before he met Homelander?

He doesn’t know anymore.

He doesn't care anymore. 

Sometimes what’s right is right no matter how ugly it is.

Benjamin walks behind Marty, grabs his forearms, and places his right foot between his shoulders.

“Johnny?” He calls. 

The boy’s barely able to cast his gaze in the man’s direction.  The shame and discomfort is all over his face, and that pit of white-hot fury in Ben's gut swirls like never before. 

“Apologize.”  Ben commands, pressing his foot forward and giving the slightest tug against his arms– barely anything to the bug, but raw pain for the man who deserves nothing less.

Below, Marty yowls and begs.  Suddenly, John has no problem looking up.

“I'm sorry!  Oh fuck– oh god!”

But it's not enough. He has no goddamn idea what he's even apologizing for. He just wants it to end. 

“For what?” Ben tugs harder, keeping the tension.  “What’dya do, Marty?  Spit it out!” 

“I don't– I can't– oh Jesus, please!” 

“Harder.” Comes a small, still whisper.  

Ben looks up to find John fixated on the sight, blue eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lights. The bug does as he says and gives a sharp tug to Marty's arms, the resounding scream bouncing loudly between the cramped walls. 

“Think it’s funny to humiliate a kid like that?”  Benjamin grits.  “Rubbin’ his nose in it every day for just being normal– tell him you’re fucking sorry!”

“I’m sah–hahr…hah…” Those pathetic sobs taper off and his body goes limp.

Even the look on John’s face dims at the anticlimactic end.

“You kidding me?”  Ben groans.  This was supposed to be a lesson in not being a fucking creep and he faints?  “Whatever, just– just get dressed.  Let me know when you’re ready, okay?”  The bug instructs, dragging Marty out by the collar of his shirt.  He tosses him forward, letting him skid across the floor to the feet of his horrified colleagues.  Ben's sure the sounds of what little corrective actions he got to take were convincing enough that none of them would dare try anything stupid.

It takes a moment before John calls him back inside.  The boy sits on the bed, staring down at the ground, dressed now in all white.  He holds the lab coat on his lap, fiddling with the buttons.  Just as Ben kneels down before him, words on his own on his tongue, John speaks.

“How’d you know about… that?”

The shame is written clear as day on his face.  

Fuck, Ben thinks to himself.  Didn’t consider that… 

“I…”  The bug ponders a good way to say it.  He breathes a laugh through his nose, shaking his head with a smile on his face.  Homelander would hate it if he was lied to, and that was the one thing Ben always promised he would never do.  “You told me about it.”

The confusion is clear as day.

“Listen, I’ll explain everything when we’re outta here, okay?”  Benjamin says, pulling the car keys from his pocket and jingling them with a devious smile and raised brows.  

“We’re leaving?”

“Mhm,” he hums.  “We’ll make a stop at Vought-a-Buger and get you a milkshake, and then–”

Bang!

A flash of white steals his sight and Benjamin drops everything to shield his ears. The screech that follows is deafening– unlike anything he’s ever heard before.  It hurts, everything hurts, like it’s rattling his fucking skeleton and–

His body is heavy.

“Joh…n…” He tries, but his tongue feels like lead.  Run, he calls, but it doesn’t come out.  Run, Johnny!

There’s nothing.

It’s cold.

Heavy…

It’s all so heavy.

The bug’s first breaths feel labored and wheezy.  Chest is tight.  Head throbs.

There’s a commotion nearby. Canisters on the floor– one kicked by brown flats, rattling across the floor.  Words are blurry save for a few.

Disappoint me…

Like they’re all under water.  Garbled and muted.  Little whimpering cries.

Ashamed of you…

He fights to chase them, to protect that little voice from whatever’s going on, but his eyelids drop with a weight far greater than Benjamin can fend off.

Even in the blackness, his resolve urges him to wake.

Get up.

His sixth sense stirs.

Get. Up.

He can’t just leave John to suffer his fate.

You have to.

His leg twitches.  He fights to take back control.  Like waking up after surgery.  

Wiggle your toes.

His limbs tingle. 

Fingers next. C'mon… 

Fight it off. 

It’s time to wake up!

His violent gasp for breath burns like nothing else, but it shocks his system enough to pry him from the void.  Benjamin’s head rips back and forth, taking in the surroundings.

Still in the bad room.  Door’s shut.

“Johnny?”  He slurs, tongue still heavy in his maw.  The bug shuffles onto his knees.  In the corner sits the boy, hugging his knees to his chest with tears streaming down his cheeks.

Shit.

He takes in the sight of gas canisters and spent flash grenades.

A glance to his watch timer breaks the harrowing news.

Twenty minutes.

“No!”  Ben wails.  “No, no, no. no!”

He’s up in a flash, stumbling to beat on the door.  Every loud bang does little more than dent it.  The haze fades, overpowered by adrenaline and the desperation to do fucking anything. 

I came here to fucking save you!

“Help me!”  He calls to John. “Help me help you!”

“I don’t think so,” calls a strange voice.  The crackle of it rings from a speaker in the ceiling.  A woman’s voice.  Proper and collected.  Eerily calm.

Ben drives his bloodied fists into the door harder and harder, whimpering with each scream of his bones to cease his efforts.  He stumbles backward, panting heavily.  

He could never make it past that door. It was made to withstand someone far more powerful that he'll ever be. 

Ben spins around, staring into the lense of every fucking camera he can find.  

Why didn’t he fucking web them!?  Stupid, stupid– too busy beating on that sad sack of shit for calling John that goddamn name!

“Fuck you, and fuck this place!”  He roars, heartbeat pounding in his ears almost as hard as the throbbing in his skull.  “Torturing a fucking kid like a bunch of sick fucking freaks!”

“Where did you come from?”  She asks, unbothered by the outburst.

“From fucking Craigslist you bitch!”

“It would behoove you to cooperate, young man.”  The satisfaction is all too audible in her tone.  “John.  Subdue him.”

Wh–

Within a mere flash, Ben’s forearm is in a vice grip more painful than anything he’s ever felt.  He can practically feel his bones crunching under the sheer brutality of force, threatening to give at any moment.

“–clearly a Vought asset.  Why are you here?” 

Ben crumbles to his knees.

“Johnny, don’t!”  His pleas fall in sobs, tears clouding his vision.  “I just wanna help you– please let me help you!” 

The faintest flash of doubt and a loud ripping sound precedes the release of the bug’s limb.  His torn sleeve reveals a bruise already forming in the shape of a child’s hand.  The tattered, webbed scrap of fabric is clenched in the boy’s iron grip.

“How do you know of this place?”

It’s like this is just a minor fucking inconvenience to her!  

“Johnny, listen–”

“Restrain him now.  Do not disappoint us, John.”

Ben’s back hits the concrete wall and he sputters against the hand wrapped around his throat.  He squints to meet crimson eyes whose heat emanates painfully hot near his face.  “Jo–”

His feet leave the floor, flailing for purchase against the wall– anything to offset the weight of himself compounding with that vice grip.  John floats higher and higher, stopping just below the ceiling. 

“Not–” the bug chokes through clenched teeth, voice barely more than a hoarse pushing of air through a collapsing throat.  “Not your… fault.  S’okay– forgive’ou–”

The hiss of sizzling tears is only just audible over the woman’s instructions to end it all.  The hand at his throat loosens just enough for the bug to barely draw a breath. 

The five minute warning from his watch beep barely reaches his ears.

Ben wishes John would say anything.  Instead he’s a silent attack dog, obedient to his commands until that small moment of hesitation.

“Good kid–” Ben hisses, fingers prying to loosen the hold just a little more.  

At this rate, he just needs to survive.  Just make it through the five minutes and lick his wounds at home.  Pray he hadn’t fucked up the future too much.

“You’re good– a good kid, Johnny– don’t–” 

John lurches with a violent sob, descending slowly, eyes dimming to watery blues.

The woman’s voice commands him to finish the job.

Fuck– fuck that works!

“A sweet boy!”  Benjamin sobs, gasping for air as the hold relaxes all but totally.  “It’s okay, pumpkin– you’re okay. Doin’ amazing– S'okay.  Everything's– it's all okay…”

Ben lets go with his right hand and rests it on John’s head, stroking softly over those blonde locks just like he did when he pulled him from the incinerator.

His arm is aglow, particles of his being preparing to return from whence they came.

Their time together is almost up.

“What are you doing John?”

Their knees hit the ground with loud thuds.  Ben scoops the boy in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” the bug weeps.  “I’m so fucking sorry!”

He failed.  All of the pain and suffering this boy will face from here on is his fault.

Benjamin pulls back, swallowing his cries to deliver the bad news.

It’s time to go.

“No!!”  John wails, grabbing Ben by the wrists to keep him in the only way he knows how.  “No! You can’t leave me!  You can’t!”

The glow emanating from Ben’s body starts to creep brighter through the room.

“No choice,” he whispers through the tightness of his throat.  “I have no choice, buddy…”

The sound of the woman demanding the door be opened rings through the room.

“M’from the future,” Ben sniffles, chuckling at the boy’s widened eyes. He deserves the clarification. “That's how I know you…”

 That same bursting feeling from right before he was sent back is building and building, ready to snap at any moment.

“But I–”

“You’re gonna have to come find me.”  Ben takes a deep breath.  “Be good, pumpkin–”

And, just like that, he bursts into nothing. He's hurtling through the fabric of time once more, nausea building in the pit of his gut as he screams and sobs through the echoes of history.

He failed.

He failed John.  

He failed his Johnny. He failed Homelander.

And now he didn’t even know if he had his Johnny to go home to.

The bug doesn’t even bother to stick the landing.  It felt almost good to land face down and lay there before The Traveler, body screaming with the pains of his injuries. It's no less than he deserves. 

She regards him with blank white eyes.

“Have you learned your lesson, Benjamin?”

Lesson?

Lesson!?

Through his defeated tears, he shifts just enough to meet her gaze.

“What is shall always be.”  She says calmly, the perfect counter to the hurricane of emotion brewing within the bug.  “Time and fate will always protect one another.”

“Then what the fuck is the point, Cryptic Carl?” he whispers. He means for it to be snarky. Just a little something to salvage his decimated pride and offset some of his own hurt. It's more pathetic than anything.  “If it’s all fuckin’... just like that.”

Her answer does nothing to soothe him.  He thinks of it the entire way home, ignoring how frightened the VUber driver was at his condition and exposed suit.  He ponders it with every access panel that accepts his information and prints, and even as he ascends to the penthouse in the elevator.

It’s all he can think of when he limps through the hall of mirrors and into the arms of his frazzled love.

The point is what you make of it.

One look and he can see the puzzle pieces connect in Homelander’s mind.

The shredded shirt, the torn sleeve of his suit, the handprints on his throat and forearm, the proximity burns on his face… 

Memories fade in with every second he spends in John’s arms– some new, but mostly old and unchanged.  The hostility of their first meeting.  The rapid development of their friendship after joining the team.  The night after he killed Stillwell.  Their first kiss.  Shared rooftop ice creams and dances amongst the clouds.  Washing the blood from his love every time some fool dared cross him or the world became too much.  Every confession of trauma, every admission of love… The good, the bad, the lovely.  All of it.

And then something… new.

Lifting the latch to that odd little dresser full of keepsakes early in their relationship.  The scrap of his suit, tattered and faded from more than thirty years of keeping.  Homelander finding him inspecting it, explaining nothing and everything.

I never stopped looking for you.

He sobs in Homelander’s arms, apologizing through the pain of his damaged throat until he’s a hiccuping wreck.  

He failed.

Benjamin failed and John had to continue living in that hell hole.

He wishes more than anything that his Johnny would punish him for it.  Finish the job and take out all those years he had to suffer on him– because that’s what the bug deserved for fucking up so goddamn badly.

Instead he receives kisses peppered over every inch of his face and Homelander’s tears mingle with his own.  Benjamin doesn’t know what he expects to hear when his love’s lips part.  He deserves the worst.  Names, insults– anything. Even fucking lasers to the face.

What comes is more than he can handle.

More than he’ll ever know what to do with.

But… it makes it all worth it.  Rips his heart clean from his chest and breathes life into each shattered piece, willing it all back together again.

It’s more than he deserves.

“You were the first person to ever give me hope.”

But it is what he makes of it. 

[transmascsteveharrington]

steddie percy jackson au part 3 (part 1) (part 2)

The years come and go, kids grow up, teenage heroes turn into adult demigods, the wheel of time spins. They’re twenty-five by the time they decide to get married. Summer wedding at the camp. They both no longer live there, moved into a small but lovely apartment in Boston. But the camp is still the place they associate with home the most.

They get married at the lake, right at the edge of the camp border so that Wanye can come be a part of the celebration. Steve's dad, to no one's surprise, doesn't show. Steve can't even remember the last time they talked, isn't sure the phone number scribbled down on a half-dissolved paper is still the right one, doesn't really care though. His dad might be a no show, but his mom is here. Pretty in pink, celestial, soft eyes and even softer smile.

Steve is no longer just Aphrodite's little padawan. He is her child, her son. She's come down from Olympus to bless Steve's and Eddie's union. There still is not really a need for it, the red string tied around Steve and Eddie’s pinkies is sturdy as ever.

But Aphrodite has seen Steve and Eddie fall in love and be torn apart too many times before. She’s seen Steve get bitten by a venomous snake and heard Eddie sing in mourning, the sound beautifully that stones had wept. She’s seen Eddie lead Steve out of the underworld only to lose him again at the very very last second.

She’s seen them grow up together, not unlike now, boys easily falling into each other, body and soul. Boys being forced to go to battle, boys forced apart too soon. She’ll never unsee the harrowing fear in Steve’s face as Eddie bled out in his arms in front of the gates of Troye.

She’s seen them court each other, love each other, unaware of the looming shadow of jealousy whispering in the wind. She’s seen Eddie lose his life during a harmless game of discus, seen Steve try to preserve Eddie’s memory by turning him into hyacinths.

There are hyacinths all around during the wedding even though it’s been months since spring. A special gift from the dryads. Even after all those lives, hyacinths are still Steve’s favorite. Aphrodite thanks the fates for spinning a longer thread for Steve and Eddie in this life.

After the wedding, Steve doesn't see Aphrodite for a while. Another titan rising, another war, more loss, sometimes it feels like the fight is never-ending. But the gods and their children emerge victorious once more. Steve especially. He was the hero that got to slay the titan.

He gets called up to the Olympus to receive praise and honour and gifts from the gods. They haven't told Steve specifically to bring Eddie, but Steve doesn't go anywhere without his husband now a day. Especially not after almost losing him in the last war, a swarm of furies digging their teeth and claws into his torso.

"Not yet," Steve had sobbed on the battlefield.

"Not yet," Hermes and Aphrodite had whispered.

"Not yet," the Fates had agreed.

When they enter the Olympus, Aphrodite is the first to greet them. She rushes out of the throne room and wraps her arms around Steve in a tight hug.

"Hi mom," he says softly as he buries his face in her curly hair. Just like their little apartment, just like cabin at camp, being in Aphrodite's arms always feels a bit like coming home.

"I love you, Stevie," she whispers before she lets go. It feels final, like a goodbye, and Steve doesn't like it one bit. Before he can ask what's up though a thunderous voice calls out from the great hall, "Steven, come in!"

Aphrodite let's go of him, pulls Eddie in a quick hug too, before she turns to the great hall.

"Best not to let them wait," she says and it almost sounds like she is on the edge of tears.

She doesn't let Steve ask, just squeezes his hand before she slips through the door. Steve turns around to give Eddie a helpless look, Eddie looks back at him with the same confusion. Aphrodite is right though, best not to let the gods wait, no matter how beloved Steve is by them.

Something is definitely off, Steve realizes as they enter the hall and walk towards the front where Hera and Zeus are sitting. The other gods that usually smile at him look sour. Some bitter, some angry, some sad. Steve desperately tries to remember if he has done anything to earn their contempt, but he comes up empty. He literally slayed a titan for them.

The only one smiling at Steve is Hera, which, nothing against Hera, is low-key a red flag. Steve has never seen her smile reach her eyes, always empty, always put on, always pretend. Steve shivers as he reaches her.

“Steven.” Even the cheer in her voice sounds fake.

“My lady,” he says and bows. It’s odd that she is addressing him and not Zeus. Zeus is just sitting next to her, looking bored. Which is yet another red flag.

“You have done a great deed, Steven,” the goddess continues and Steve wishes she would just stop calling him Steven.

Only his dad called him Steven in the few blurry memories Steve has of him. Steve could really do without those.

A deed great enough for my husband to graciously forgive you.”

“Forgive me?” Steve frowns. He can’t remember a single thing he could have done to wrong Zeus. Sure, he once dated his daughter Nancy, but she was the one to break Steve’s heart. And Zeus never seemed to be upset with Steve for that.

“And he has allowed me to claim you,” Hera ignores Steve’s question. “For you are my child.”

The words my child echo through the great hall, reverb. It takes Steve a moment to take them in and then another to fully understand them. Child. He is Hera’s child Zeus isn’t forgiving Hera for having an affair. He is forgiving Steve for existing. Steve’s too familiar with that feeling, understands now how Hera might have fallen for his mortal father. They seem to be alike.

The joy that should come with your divine parent claiming you stays out. Technically nothing much should change for Steve. He no longer lives in the camp so he won't move cabins. Every little sacrifice he brings he now has to bring to Hera. In his moments of need he will have to turn to her. It sounds like nothing, but it's everything.

Because there is no way Zeus didn't know that Steve was hers. He must have known and he never threatened Steve, always was surprisingly kind to him. Even now he doesn't look at Steve with the hatred Hera claims her husband must have for her bastard child.

Steve doesn't buy it one second that only now Zeus allowed Hera to claim him. It's only now that Steve has slain a titan, has fought more wars than he can count, that he is good enough for Hera. She isn't claiming him out of love, she is claiming him to brag, to show him around like jewelry. He wonders for a econd if she even knows his husband's name. His friend's name, hell if she even knows that yellow and umber are his favorite colors. There is no love found in her gaze.

Steve is going to do something brave, something stupid, something based on all the love he feels. He turns to Eddie briefly, an apology in his eyes. But the way Eddie looks back at him means that he knows what Steve is about to do. And that two demigods might not do much against a whole pantheon, but Eddie will always have Steve's back. Steve tells Eddie one last time I love you with his eyes, before he turns back to Zeus and Hera.

"Lord Zeus, Lady Hera," he says already tasting blood in his mouth. "Thank you for the great honor, but I believe there has to be a mistake."

Eery silence falls across the large hall.

"I already have a mother," Steve says and holds up his wrist, Aphrodite's symbol etched into his skin.

The silence continues for a moment before Hera laughs. It's cold, it's cruel, downright sadistic. Everyone knows what happens to the people that wrong Hera. Steve just hopes it'll be painless and that Eddie will be spared as Hera strikes out.

Steve presses his eyes shut, ready to accept death with open arms. Only that the strike never comes. Confused, Steve opens his eyes again. Hera is up, arm stretched out, palm ready to slap Steve, but she is unable to. Two hands wrapped around her wrist.

"Don't you dare touch my child," Aphrodite hisses, her pretty face contorted like that of a siren that has stopped singing, eyes glowing red, yellow fangs flashed.

"What she said," Hermes, who the other hand around Hera's wrist belongs to, says with just as much anger.

He never asked Steve to devote himself to him, but Steve has spent his entire life living in Hermes' cabin, he's married to one of Hermes' favorite children. As far as Hermes is concerned Steve is as much his to protect as he is Aphrodite's.

"Traitors," Hera snaps. "You would start another war amongst us? For what? Some meekly, unimportant demigod? He's barely a hero."

"I would start a hundred wars for him. Because he is my son and I love him," Aphrodite grits back, her grip so tight it's going to bruise Hera's wrist.

Steve is not surprised. He would rather die for his mother's love before he worshiped a false goddess, she would start wars for him.

"What she said," Hermes confirms again and this time it does catch Steve a little by surprise.

"Wouldn't be much of a war though," a deep voice roars behind them.

When Steve turns he sees the entire pantheon standing behind them. Usually, they are never united, loyalties split between the big three, there were bound to be gods on Hera's and Zeus' side. But every single one is standing behind Steve and his family.

Because they too watched Steve grow, they too felt for he unclaimed child, they too felt touched by his love and they too want to express their thanks for Steve's heroism. As Eddie once whispered into the darkness of the night, arms wrapped tightly around Steve, so convinced that Steve had already been asleep: "It's impossible not to love you, Steve Harrington."

Hera falters slightly, looks at Zeus for help, but Zeus still looks bored.

"I believe the pantheon has spoken. You made a mistake Hera, the child is not yours," he says before he turns to Steve. "Your business here is done, you should leave."

Steve doesn't have to be told twice. He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him out of the hall, away from the Olympus. They don't look back. They know Aphrodite and Hermes will wait for them when they come home. Hera might still try to come for Steve, but for this life, this love, the Fates have blessed Steve with a very long thread.

[onceinawhilemoon]

The Tale of The Empty House Quest and The Power of Imagination

There's something that I haven't noticed before in the ending credits of SHCO.

The credits show Stonewood Manor in a “past vs. present” sequence. We see the rooms as they were in the past: vibrant, warm, and beautiful, before they transform into the present: dark, cold, and ramshackled.

But the present here isn't just the present; it's Sherlock’s present while he was staying in the manor, and we can see ALL THE AUCTIONED PIECES THAT WE'VE BEEN BUYING THROUGHOUT THE GAME and even that sketch of Ms. Nini's fugly thief in Sherlock's room.

Like, I did wonder how Sherlock managed to refurbish and repaint every room and make them look as good as new all by himself with just a scant few items of furniture, but I never really gave it much thought, simply attributed it to game logic and rolled with it.

BUT THAT'S THE THING. He never really did.

I did wonder how Sherlock put his hand through the lit fireplace to retrieve Mycroft's key, and didn't give it much thought either because again, game logic, but that fireplace was never lit to begin with.

To Sherlock, when he set to “refurbish” the manor–which entailed him buying whatever auctioned items he could find still being sold around Cordona because like a decade had passed–and to us playing as him as we progressed in the Tale of the Empty House quest, the house started to look warm and colorful and beautiful:

In reality, though, they were just those items that he restored here and there and everything else HE WAS SEEING IN HIS OWN MIND and the ending credits show us what the manor actually looked like while we were in it:

Which means that the entire time that we were running around the house with Jon and that beautiful soundtrack as we reminisced and lovingly renovated and decorated it with trophies and case memorabilia, we were running around that same dark, cold, decaying building from the start of the game, except for those little additions here and there...

And if you look at the restored items, you’ll notice how the family portrait is still unveiled, the carpet isn't fully rolled out, Jon’s bed isn't positioned against the wall like it should have been, and there's a covered painting atop the closet in Sherlock's room that didn't originally belong there.

Everything that we reclaimed from the shops looks messily and hurriedly put together–Sherlock is a one man after all and a very busy one–and yet, his creativity and imagination were powerful enough to fill in the rest.

All this time we spent in the “refurbished” Stonewood Manor, we were simply living inside a memory. We were in Sherlock's mind seeing a product of his imagination so vivid that it created a real sense of presence in the revived manor–as real as Jon was to him–despite the actual state of disrepair.

I don't know why it never occurred to me before. It's pretty obvious now, and it makes so much sense; there was no way Sherlock was going to find everything that was auctioned still being sold and intact (and he didn't, the items he found were like 10 or 13 tops) and make the house look like that all by himself. He could have hired people to repaint and clean and bought similar furniture, I guess, but that's just far-fetched to me. He barely even spent time in the manor to put all of this extra effort on renovations.

I sobbed uncontrollably when I realized this sgsjiwise (the ending credits already make me so weak, especially with that damned music UGH).

I don't know. There's something so bittersweetly pure about him trying to reclaim the space that was once his own with whatever minimal resources he had available. Whatever he couldn't find, he simply substituted with creativity and imagination, and that was enough to imbue the space with warmth and a real sense of home sweet home. It's almost reminiscent of the way a child plays make-belief. I think it's a beautiful testament to the power of imagination, how it has the ability to transform environments and create a sense of belonging.

And then, just like 10 years ago as if he still lived there, he went around and put up posters and trophies and memorabilia, despite knowing that he wasn't staying there for long, and that once he left, it was forever. It's like he wanted to experience what it was like living in the manor one last time, leaving one last imprint saying, “I was here.”

I wonder what Mycroft thought of it all when he came back later to check on Sherlock. He must have at least gone through the entire ground floor in order to get to the back garden, so he must have seen all the restored items and the very personal traces of his brother's short-lived presence scattered among the junk and clutter of their dilapidated old home. I imagine they starkly stood out not just because they were not supposed to be there, but because of how they were like little touches of life in an otherwise dead and quiet space that'd been dead and quiet for a long time..

I really admire how FW managed to set up the sense of nostalgia in this game. Not just nostalgia, but “vicarious nostalgia”. I kept having that wistful longing for places I haven't personally been and experiences I haven't personally lived but felt very connected to through Sherry's (and Jon's) memories and stories (there's like a German word for this phenomenon I'm pretty sure but I forgor) but I guess SHCO does tab into something for all of us, right? Childhood innocence and memories, imaginary friends, leaving your childhood home and coming back years later... There's a little something there for everyone to relate to, I think.

[angstysebfan]

My Roommates Boyfriend - Fin

Pairings: Bucky x Female Reader AU: Modern

Chapter Summary: And they all lived.... Chapter Warnings: Fluff and maybe cursing cause ya know... lol, also several flashbacks

Flashbacks in italics

Series Masterlist

--

2 years later

You’re pacing around the room trying to get your emotions in check. Today was the day your life will change forever. Nat walked in, wearing her navy blue tea length dress. 

“Y/N, you've gotta calm down and get dressed already!” she scolded.

You take a deep breath and look at the floor length mirror. Your hair and makeup were done to perfection and you were standing in your white silk robe.

“What if we're not meant to be? What if this is all a huge mistake?” you say, panic evident in your voice.

It was the day after you and Bucky finally talked it out. He planned on taking you out on a proper date this time. He told you he would pick you up at 7, and at exactly 7, you heard the buzzer.

You were running around like a chicken with your head cut off because you'd gotten out of work late, which never happens. You buzz him in and quickly run into your room to slip your dress on.

You heard the knock on the door and started to panic because your hair was a disaster and you didn’t have time to reapply your makeup. You run to the door, looking slightly disheveled. You open it to see Bucky looking as handsome as ever.

Bucky furrowed his brows seeing the panic on your face.

“You okay, baby?” he asks.

You shake your head as tears start to form. “I-I got out of work late, and so I haven’t had time to fix my hair or my makeup and you planned this whole night and now I’m ruining it!” you said, choking on a sob.

Bucky quickly embraced you and kissed the top of your head. “Y/N, I don’t care where our first date is. I just want to be with you. If we miss our dinner reservation, we can go to the diner or get pizza. It's ok. Please don't cry. And by the way... you already look amazing.”

You look at him for a moment before you pull him close and kiss him deeply. Bucky was taken aback at first, but then wrapped his arms around you. When you pulled back you looked at him with determination.

“Give me 10 minutes, and I’ll be ready,” you said softly before going into your room.

You knew at that point that Bucky was the one for you. Always and forever.

Nat took both your hands and made you look at her. “Do you love him?” she asks. You nod. “Do you want to be with him for the rest of your life?” she asks, and again you nod. “Then shut up with the stupid questions and get your ass dressed! You need to be walking down that aisle to your man in 10 minutes!” Nat said with authority. She pushed you toward your dress and smacked your ass.

Once you were in your white strapless floor length gown, that showed all your curves perfectly, you felt slightly more confident. Your mom and dad walked in and gushed over how beautiful you looked. Your mom gave you a hug and left the room with Natasha to get ready to start the ceremony. Your dad offered his arm and led you out of the room.

Bucky was waiting at the end of the aisle with Sam and his other best friend Steve. When you entered the room with your dad, he couldn’t help but watch you walk toward him in awe. He can’t believe you were finally going to be his forever.

You'd been dating for a year, and it honestly was the best year of your life. Bucky had moved into your apartment, especially after you gave him a key again, after a month of dating. You both were the happiest you had ever been.

You were planning your next visit out to Nat in Seattle in the next month or so. You both cuddled together on the couch looking at the computer to purchase plane tickets. Bucky has his arm wrapped around you, and every few minutes kisses you temple, cheek and grabbing your chin he kissed your lips.

What started out as innocent, turned into a full blown make out session and then passionate love making. Your plane tickets forgotten. As you both lay on the couch, calming down from your exertion, Bucky turns your face to him.

“Marry me?” he asks softly, as he brushes the hair stuck to your face from sweat.

You smile and tears come your your eyes. “Oh my god! Bucky, yes of course I'll marry you!” you shout as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Bucky smiles and kisses you softly. “I was going to wait until Seattle, but I just couldn’t wait anymore. I love you, Y/N. You're everything to me. We were truly meant to be from the moment we saw each other, and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.”

You can’t help crying tears of happiness. “I love you too, Bucky, so fucking much. I can’t wait to spend the rest of our lives together!” You say as you bring him in for another kiss.

Bucky and you were more then lovers, you were best friends. You told each other everything and anything. You barely fought anymore, though there was the occasional disagreement. You both swore to never go to bed angry, and that also pushed you to settle your quarrels quickly. Plus you couldn’t stand to be away from each other. 

Nat was your cheerleader all the way through your relationship, which is why she is proudly standing by you as your maid of honor. She met her current boyfriend Bruce at work, and the two have been together for a year. She's never been so happy.

You and Bucky make frequent trips to Seattle to see Nat, and she visits New York with Bruce often. You’re so glad that the distance didn’t change your friendship. You know none of this would have been possible without her.

“Oh my god!!” Nat screamed as she saw your ring! She ran up and gave you the biggest hug, squeezing you so tight. “I can’t believe you guys are getting married!” She said as she hugged Bucky.

“Nat, none of this would have happened if you hadn’t pushed us to stop being stupid. So… will you be my maid of honor?” you ask. Nat jumped up and down screaming YES!

You look at Bucky as you get closer to him, and you can’t help your wide cheesy smile. God you loved this man and you can’t imagine what life would be like without him. You don’t even remember what life was like without him. As you finally make it to Bucky, your father shook his hand and gave you away.

After your vows were said, you finally heard the words you were waiting for, “You may kiss the bride”. Bucky pulled you to him and crashed his lips into yours. To say you were the happiest people in the world would be an understatement. 

After a fun reception, you said goodbye to your family and friends and went up to the honeymoon suite of the hotel. You both had to be up early to catch your flight to Bora Bora, but you spent the entire night entwined in each other. Bucky showed you how much he loved you over and over. 

Six months later you get another surprise. You’re pregnant! Bucky was beyond happy, and you both decided that it was time to start looking for a house and leave the city. You found the perfect home in the suburbs that was still close enough to the city for work and your friends. 

“Bucky? Are you home?” you shout from the bathroom in your apartment.

“Yeah baby, I'm in the kitchen. You okay?” Bucky called as he walks toward the bathroom.

You take a deep breath and hand him the stick. He looks confused at first, but then, slowly, a huge smile appears on his face. “You’re pregnant?” he asks in disbelief. You nod.

Bucky shouts with joy as he sweeps you off your feet and spins you around. You both are laughing as he stops and just holds you.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be a daddy.” He says.

You smile. “I know! And I’m going to be a mommy!”

Bucky kisses you softly. “Well, I think we need to move out of the city. I want my kids to have a big backyard with a pool and swing set.” Bucky says as he walks over to grab his laptop.

Shortly after the move you gave birth to your son, Matthew James Barnes. He was the spitting image of his father, and you hoped he would turn out just like him. After an easy birth, you and Bucky sit on your bed holding your son. Bucky continues to kiss you head and thanking you for his son.

You look up at Bucky with tears in your eyes. You think back to that terrible first year of knowing each other, and then the terrible drive to Seattle. You can’t help but laugh to yourself that all of that craziness led you to the best thing in your life. Your loving husband and son. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

--

Chapter 9

And thats that... Thank you for reading!

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[peqachy]

Summary :

ror/snv characters reactions to you winning your first battle. Obviously, this is based off the characters I like most right now and who is alive in the time frame of the one shot. I know it may seem rushed but I thought id would be good practice for different character's perspectives.

Featured characters :

Thor, Buddha, Shiva, Jack, and Sasaki

Warning :

contains mentions of grief

Thor :

He wasn't paying attention at first because, lets be honest here, no even the other humans looked convinced that you would stand a chance, let alone win, but you proved them wrong. You did more than win, you kicked major ass. You sustained the least injuries out of all of the human fighters and put on quite the spectacle too. Explosions, gun shots that almost broke the laws of physics, and a victory that left him more than curious about you. How would you fair against him? Your style seems to be stealthily planned strikes so he would have to be on his toes. It makes him wonder if he would have done better than the poor weakling pinned against you.

Buddha :

He wasn't surprised in the slightest, impressed yes, but not surprised. He got to know you a little when you briefly crossed paths an hour ago. He could feel your resolve, even if you seemed concerned for the valkryie helping you to victory. You were kind and it showed to the very end as you reluctantly used a technique you swore you would never use again. So to see you use it when you were out of options and then sob over the god you killed as they faded away he knew you were hurting from a sadness only you could understand. For that, he pities you greatly.

Shiva :

He wasn't sure what to think. You were tiny, sure, but to see you fight was like watching himself fight. Your moves were like his dance and just as deadly, hence your victory, but he's sure if he were to meet you he would get along with you without a hitch. He can see a kindness in you. From how you sobbed over the death of your opponent to how you told the humans that you despised them for cheering at the death of a god. That senseless death that could have been avoided shouldn't be praised, but the humans did not hear you. They continued their cheers and you continued to cry. Such a kind heart from a cruel cruel world. He almost wishes you had met him in his prime, back when humanity admired gods for their strength and strived to enjoy the simple things. He believes you would have like a life like that better than the one you led.

Jack the Ripper :

He wasn't watching at the beginning, too busy tending to his wounds to be bothered to watch the tournament's latest brawl, but the silence of the stadium eventually catch his interest. He wasn't sure what he should expect when he entered on of the viewing rooms, but he sure wasn't expecting to see a giant fighting a child. At least, that's how it looked from where he was looking. He had his comments on it, of course, as he sipped his tea. he thought you would die, especially after you displayed his favorite color as you ran from the monster hot on your heels, but then your color changed to one that he's never seen so vibrantly before. Next thing he knew, you had won against the odds to display such an agonizing color. He's never seen someone shine with the color you had. It was so close to the color he loves, yet entirely different. He thought it curious when your valkryie had to guide you off the arena ground to the infirmary where he's positive you're still crying. What a sad existence you live, just like him.

Sasaki Kyojirou :

Oh boy. That was his first thought as the battle began with you volleying bullets at close quarters with your opponent. He wasn't sure if you were going to make it. As he's seen, gods can dodge bullets from a divine weapon if they're fast enough and it looked like your opponent was no different until you grazed him with a quick shot, one where it was obvious you didn't aim and had hit him by mere coincidence. However, even then, he noticed how your eyes never changed. You remained calm and enacted your plan perfectly. Though it wasn't enough, he could see you hadn't given up yet. Even when you ran away from your opponent you never surrendered. You kept pushing forward with a resolve that never wavered. He found himself admiring it. Then, with a last ditch effort, you won, but he found it strange that you began to cry. You had won. You should have been happy to be alive, so why were you so sad? He doesn't understand it.

----

I hope this was okay. ,:)

[hypnoneghoul]

So I had a thought, and your writing would capture this best in my opinion: Phantom coming back to the abbey, finding Aether, and proceeds to have the most Ghoultism conversation about his first tour and what he experienced. And he’s such a little cutie that he doesn’t stop him.

im sorry it took me ages whaaaaa :(

but im here! and thank you for considering me the best man for the job, hope i don't dissapoint hahahah

some ghautistic phantom rambles under the cut :)

Aether didn't exactly know what saying 'tell me everything' to Phantom would mean for him. He didn't expect him to literally tell him everything. He did feel a bit like complaining, at first, he had better things to do. Not to say he didn't absolutely adore Phantom or that he was ignorant or selfish. Not at all, quite the opposite. Aether just really had a lot of work.

But Phantom was so adorable, he was so excited to tell the older ghoul all the stories from tour. Aether couldn't just stop him, could he?

"People were throwing us so many plushies, there's so many on the bus and everyone has some for themselves and I even got a few bats!" Phantom ranted so fast he was nearly out of breath. "I love bats so much, Aether, how did they even know!?"

"I have no idea, kid, but I'm happy you got some gifts from the fans," he chuckled. Phantom was too adorable for his own good.

"They know our names too! And they gave us so many different things, a lot of bracelets with our names, flowers and I even got a letter! A LETTER, Aeth, just for me!" he beamed.

"I saw you also got some flags thrown onto the stage, yeah?" Aether prompted. He should've probably bite his tongue if he wanted to leave the common room in the next 24 hours but Phantom was just too cute.

"YEAH! There were those rainbow ones and the other colorful one, you taught me about them when I was first summoned. The colorful one is for the whole community some humans are in, right? When they don't really fuck with everyone, just specific people?"

"Something like that," Aether giggled. It was one way to put it, especially with how Phantom perceived things Topside.

"The other one was the blue, white and pink and I think that's the one people use when their junk doesn't match their head? Like Dew and Sunny, they'd be them too if they were humans, yeah?"

"Yes, kid, it's called being transgender, for humans."

"Yes! People were so happy when we picked them up, Swiss too, I think it meant a lot to them. I think a lot of our fans are colorful humans, don't you think?" Phantom asked and actually paused for a second. Not a rhetorical question, then.

"I don't just think so, I know it. I used to check the internet a lot, the thing on your phone that you don't like. They say a lot of nice stuff about us all there, and yes, a lot of them are colorful, as you called it."

"'m happy I could make them feel... seen, then, you know? Swiss told me once their lives aren't really easy. That's sad," he pouted as he picked on a loose thread on his pant leg.

"That's true. But there's no reason for you to get sad now, kid. Tell me more, what else happened?" Phantom was not only a cutie, he was also really sensitive and Aether would much rather spend hours listening to his excited rambles than his sobbing.

"Oh, we visited so many fun places! The girls took a lot of pictures, they should show you! World is so big and there's so many different things in it, it was so exciting, Aether!"

"Oh, believe me, I know. Terzo loved travelling, when we toured with him there was no way to sneak out of a mandatory sightseeing in every city we got to. It was more tiring than playing itself. Mountain always ended up with Dew half asleep on his back on our way back to the hotel or a bus," it was true, the only thing that could've saved them from Terzo's traveling hunger was him himself being dead exhausted. Didn't happen often.

"Must've been fun! But yeah all of that was really tiring, we all napped when we could, even if for a moment. It's good you taught me all the basics of quintessence, I was helping everyone with their pains and when Dew couldn't sleep!"

"I'm proud of you, kid. I'm glad you liked touring and had so much fun," Aether sighed. He really was, even if he missed it already himself.

"Oh, and one time..."

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Top 5 Emotional Outbursts

See if no one else on this website has my back, I know Ben has my back because he is giving me a chance to talk about my boy Patts once more

TOP 5 EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS OF 2023

Patts, La Pluie

gif by the beautiful, marvelous @liyazaki

Episode 10 was just an absolute masterclass in emotional outbursts. The fight between Lomfon and Patts, then Patts and Tai, then Lomfon and Tien, then Patts and Tai again. Like goddamn, finally thank fuck, Patts is able to let out years worth of frustration and pain at Tai's silence was just so beautiful, and cathartic, and necessary. What an absolutely incredible moment to not only witness but experience. Patts has been so kind, so patient, so forgiving, and it was time for all the pain that he's been letting simmer for two years out. Good! For! Him!

Uea and His Bio Family, Bed Friend

There are few characters in this world I hate more than Uea's mother, and it was so so so so so so wonderful to see Uea finally give her a piece of his mind. I am so proud of him for speaking his mind, standing his ground, and getting the ever living fuck out of his bio family's house. Too personal, sorry, but this fight hit especially well for me because I too have had a parent say they'd live perfectly happily without me, and it was great vindication of my reaction to that to see Uea GTFO immediately after.

Secondarily, James' sobbing screams at the beginning of episode 4 and in the flashback of him getting dragged in to the bathroom when he was an adult have never left my brain. James absolutely crushed those scenes and this was going to be my Bed Friend pick before I remembered this fight exists.

Jim and Li Ming // Heart and His Parents, Moonlight Chicken

I don't think I am exaggerating when I say that Jim and Li Ming's relationship dynamics is one of my favorite of all time. Aof is such an incredible screenwriter/director and I feel like he's able to make such realistic depictions of families in all their complicated glory. The screaming match between Jim and Li Ming is SO good, and really is what solidified my appreciation for Fourth's acting skills because there was a fucking storm cloud on his brow. Happy fucking birthday to you Uncle Jim I guess. Poor fucker.

And then of course, one of the first ever posts I made in the BL Sphere of tumblr was a full essay on Heart's confrontation which I loved so motherfucking much. Once again a much needed fight with lots of interesting, complicated emotions flying around the room.

Kiyoi and Hira, Utsukushii Kare Season 2

gif by @itsallaboutbl

"I'm sorry that I like you" one of the best moments of the year for me by far. This fight between Kiyoi and Hira was desperately, and I mean desperately needed. I know changing will be a slow process for the two of them, and even in Eternal they are no where near where they need to be, but Hira needs/needed to cut this Pebble to a God bullshit out and I am so glad that Kiyoi was able to call him on it. Also from a performance standpoint, Yagi Yusei had his work cut out for him as a scene partner to Hagiwara who absolutely bodied his role as Hira. In season one Yagi did not need to do all that much for his performance because we didn't know as much about Kiyoi until closer to the end, but that cannot be the case for Season 2 and Yagi knocked it out of the motherfucking park.

Sunshine and Q, 7 Days Before Valentine

Okay, almost positive this isn't a BL but I love when people structure TV shows like stage plays, and there was a fight between Sunshine and Q in like Episode 4 or 5 where they were shouting over each other and it just felt so real and the dead silence that hit the room when Q said something that struck a chord with Sunshine was expertly handled, and some of the best work I've seen out of Atom the whole show. I don't think anyone gifed it so I can't put the scene in, but I think you talked about it in your Stray Thoughts @bengiyo

And just cause I wanna, the Top 5 Emotional Outbursts of the pre-2023 shows I watched this year:

In and Wang's fight in 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us, Ep 8

Gav sobbing about his aunt in Gameboys (the movie, i think?)

Pran sobbing in to Pat's shoulder in Bad Buddy, Ep 10

Tarn's fight with Teh in I Told Sunset About You, Ep 4 (shout out to Smile there because I still cannot believe it was the first thing she filmed on set)

Shiro being terrified Kenji was dying and Kenji being worried Shiro was dying and the resulting clownery from them blurting that out in What Did You Eat Yesterday? I think it was the New Year's special.

ASK ME MY TOP 5 OF ANYTHING BL 2023

[scoutswritingcorner]

The Hunter and The Hunted

Alastor x GN!Reader

TW:Talks of murder, cannibalism, deranged behavior, throwing up and vivid details of death, summoning rituals. TALK OF SEWERSLIDE AT THE END, IM SERIOUS IF THATS TRIGGERING DO NOT READ THIS AT ALL.

A ritual gone wrong and now you have a visitor.

The first time you saw him, scared the absolute shit out of you. His head had swiveled around 180 degrees with a loud snap of what you assumed to be bones breaking in the process. You flinched and tried to take a step back but the iron grasp your friends had on you told you to stay put. Then you watched the deer demon’s smile widening, his head snapped towards you. The red eyes staring right through you and into your soul, his grin widening showing you rows of yellowed sharp teeth that could rip skin to bone from seconds, a hum from an old radio was heard before it cut out with a loud ring that made you flinch as your ears started to ring.

In a flash, you let go of your friends hands and covered your now ringing ears, tears pricking your eyes as you stared up at this..demon- no MONSTROSITY. Your breath caught in your throat as he stared down at you, the smile on his lips ever growing as he took one long stride towards the edge of the salt circle, his clawed hands seemingly digging into an invisible wall. You ignored your friends yelling at you as you kicked your feet trying to lift yourself up, unknowingly breaking the circle as you got up and ran out of the abandoned house deep in the woods to your car that had been sitting quietly in the dark.

~~

The second time you saw him was when you were driving home from work and decided to take the backroads instead of the highways. You didn’t want to deal with the bright lights especially at night, you preferred the silence. As you turned down the dark road, your car’s radio started to change channels constantly. Sometimes it just turned to loud radio static that hurt your head. Glancing up back on the road for a moment, your heart stopped as you slammed your foot on the break and coughed horribly as your chest hit the steering wheel. In front of your car was the tall deer like man from three nights ago, his smile still plastered on his face as you felt your stomach drop. Everything about him was so uncanny as he stared at you causing you to subconsciously make sure the windows and doors were locked as he just stared and didn’t necessarily move from his spot.

You snapped out of your panic like dazed, threw your car into reverse and floored it to get as far away as you could. There was another road you could take but as you stopped to put it back into drive, the man or demon..whatever he was started to move quickly. Each stride putting less and less distance between you, you teared up and turned down the side road speeding through the empty roads, not caring if your car got scratched at this point. You looked through the rearview mirror his red suit jacket the only indication he was still behind you as dust and dirt kicked up from your driving. You sobbed out of happiness as you pulled into your house, you only grabbed your keys and phone before booking it into your home. Locking all the doors and windows you could, before barricading yourself in your room. You didn’t sleep that night.

He knew exactly where you lived now.

~~

It had only been a month of no sleep when you saw him again sitting in your living room that morning, the fear you felt was only a numbing sensation now as you went back to the routine of making a whole pot of black coffee and placing a steaming mug of it on the coffee table in front of the arm chair where he had resided. Your phone had been dead for days now, the landline phone had been cut, no doubt his own doing. Cups and dishes stacked high in the sink as your own table sat upright against the sliding glass door to your backyard. You stared at the figment of a man in the corner of the kitchen, back turned towards you as a soft plop..plop was heard. 

A dark red liquid puddled around his feet and it stained your once white kitchen walls a red. Your eyes scanned around the room, ignoring the soft tink as claws met the ceramic mug. Your eyes stopped at the lady sitting at your dinner table, head laying down on the table as blood leaked from her empty eye sockets as her body slowly slumped down, falling onto the floor and leaking more of the red sticky liquid as the body started to crawl towards you. Finally you made eye contact with the thing that sat across from you. Opening your mouth to say something to him but nothing came out as if he had already answered the question that was on the tip of your tongue but yet his mouth didn’t move and his teeth were still on full display as the corners of his smile pulled upwards. You closed your mouth and sat down on the couch, sobbing your heart out as you ignored the thing staring at you and how the cold hand of the body finally grasped at your ankle trying to tug you from your spot on the couch. 

You were so tired. So, very very tired.

~~~

ONCE AGAIN THIS HAS SEWERSLIDE IF YOU DO NOT LIKE IT OR YOU FIND IT TRIGGERING EXIT NOW. IM VERY FUCKING SERIOUS.

The last straw was inviting your friends over, the same friends that got you in this fucking predicament. You had cleaned up the best you could ignoring the ever growing pool of blood from the man standing in the corner of the kitchen. You even charged your phone and ignored every notification that popped up as you calmly texted the group chat. Your eyes unblinking as you read each response that popped up.

You were so tired and hungry but the thought of everything being all over soon enough pushed you to go a little further. You ignored your phone the rest of the day. You didn’t need much use of it anymore. That demon sat in the armchair and tilted its head with an eerie CRACK as it watched you pace and clean up something that wasn’t there but then his head snapped towards the front door as three loud knocks made you stop slowly turning your head towards the door. The guests have arrived in time. 

Pushing yourself up and throwing the soapy rag to the side ignoring how it only hit the wall with a loud thunk as you made your way to the door, taking a deep breath you blinked the sleep away as you plastered a fake smile to your face and opened the door with a greeting to your friends. Once more ignoring the red suited demon who watched everything, the radio static filled your head once more as the sound numbed your mind and senses. It was almost over..just a few more hours.

~~~

Your hands smeared blood onto your face as you sent a glare towards the red suited demon who stood closer to you now, watching as you struggled to feast on the flesh and organs of your friends. Body jolting with every handful you shoved into your mouth and chewed on like it was your last meal, you leaned forward and gagged loudly as tried to calm your breathing. You jerked your head away as memories flooded your mind, from birthdays to getting together with your friends.

You snarled and turned to glare at him, yell at him but the only thing that came up was a loud gag before you doubled over and threw up all the contents of your stomach. The man in the corner now having leaned back until his head touched the ground, his mouth cut into a forever grin as claw marks were slashed across his neck. Once again his eyes were gouged and the man started to groan loudly as it “watched” you catch your breath before digging back into the bodies now littering your home. The headless woman who sat at the dinner table now standing in the doorway holding her own decapitated head in her hands.

You don’t remember moving into your living room but the red suited demon was back in his chair, head turned towards you as he watched you grab the shotgun from above the fireplace mantle and load it. The last thing you ever did see was his ruby red gaze and the grin plastered onto his face.

Then it all went black.