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merakiui · 7 months

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タコの花嫁。

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, arranged marriage, oviposition, breeding, royalty au note - in an effort to bring peace to two warring sides, you are engaged to the sea queen’s son.

If anyone is to blame for the abysmal diplomacy between the Land and the Sea, it would be your ancestors. Pompous and foolhardy, they thought they could rule the grand seas stretching out from the harbor, beyond weather-worn docks with their rotted, seaweed-strewn planks and briny fetor. The ocean was vast, unexplored territory—a dangerous, deceptive beauty harboring life far beneath unruly waves.

And your ancestors intended to claim it.

Sailors would recount tales of fishfolk—uncanny creatures who looked more marine than the two-legged mammals of the land. They’d raise mugs, each overflowing with ale, in drunken merriment, terrifying themselves with the mysteries of the deep, dark sea.

“It ought to give ya a proper scare straight to Davy Jones himself!” they’d say, voices lowered conspiratorially. “Soon as yer candle goes out and all ya’ve got’s the moon to guide ya… You’ll hear ’em slip through the water if yer listenin’ well enough.”

“You ever go and spy one up close?”

“I’d sooner see the Devil himself and let him keelhaul me before facin’ those cursed beasts!”

“The cut of their jib ain’t so pretty. Enough to give men like us a fright and we’ve seen all sorts of somethin’.”

“Monsters, I say! Monsters!”

Festivals were held to keep these beasts at bay—to prevent them from gathering the courage to creep up onto the land. Every year, during the summer solstice, pits were hollowed on the shore and bordered with stones. Flames licked towards the sky, red-orange fingers clawing for purchase amidst the stars above. Townsfolk would sing and dance late into the eve, bellowing songs passed through the generations. Children would skip up and down the beach, torches in hand, and cry out an old chant: “Fish for you and me are meant to stay in the sea! Should you see one on land, may the Heavens strike it down with a gentle, loving hand!”

Their excitement did well to ward off the fishfolk. Sometimes the lone child would spot one in the distance, peeking out from between the rocks before diving back under in a splash.

On land, humans were safe. On land, the fishfolk couldn’t catch them.

It was different in the sea.

Ships were destroyed in terrible tempests. The waves tossed them around as if they were nothing. Many sailors would find their demise at the bottom of the ocean, torn to shreds with shattered skeletons. Viscerally brutalized, they died with secrets on their tongues—secrets of the strange fishfolk who’d drag them down, down, down to a watery grave.

On one cold February afternoon, the octopus prince was brought into the world. In shadowed fathoms, a grand celebration was held. After so much time—misfortune after misfortune—one fry survived out of the entire clutch. He was round and soft and small, colored blue from exertion and fighting through the tug of the current to reach home. The Sea Queen met him halfway and embraced him, ecstatic tears in her eyes, for a mother’s love is stronger than any political power.

“My little Azul,” she said, stroking a hand along his cheek, “how precious you are.”

No ships were sunk; no lives were lost. It was a peaceful day for both the Land and the Sea. And it would continue to be so in the future. Every year on that same February, it was made a day of peace to honor the little prince.

A day of life, not death.

It was on that same February eleven years later when you were tossed into the frigid depths like a hatchling cast out of its nest. Similarly, your birth had been a wondrous occasion. Your parents brought five boys into the world, each just as adored as the last, but they had been hoping for a daughter. It was a miracle when their fervent wishes were finally granted. You were spoiled as all daughters often are, pampered and doted on by your family and the palace staff.

Your brothers, though protective and caring, were a troublesome and rowdy bunch. Kyffin was the eldest. Two years younger was Emyr, and another two years behind him was Owin. A year younger than him were twins Morcan and Martyn. They picked on you as all immature boys often do when caught up in sibling rivalries, aiming to be the only one their parents see. To prove themselves as the best, the strongest, the wisest.

So it was with a half-cruel heart that Emyr tossed you into the waves from where he stood in the rowboat.

“Only way to learn is with exposure!” he called down to you, watching as you struggled against the push and pull of the sea.

“C-Can’t!” you shouted back, choking on salt and flailing about. “E-Emyr, I can’t—can’t swim!”

“Don’t be silly,” Owin added with a sweet smile. “It’s how we learned. That old sod threw us right in. You’re lucky it’s us and not him. He was awfully mean with it, wasn’t he?”

“Terribly so.” Emyr watched your struggling a moment longer and clicked his tongue. He held the oar out just before you could slip under, and you clung to it with shaky hands. “Come on—let’s get you up here. You’re not gonna get it today.”

“Fin got it on his first try.”

“Fin gets everything on his first bloody try.”

Relieved, your heart pounding like a drum, you peered up at your brothers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it…”

“Nothing to apologize for. You’ll get it one day.”

“We’ll keep trying until then. And once you do, we’ll throw you a big party.”

“Really? Will you really do that?” Your expression brightened, but your brothers’ faces darkened. They saw the shadow before you did. Saw the webbed hands reaching out, the serrated teeth glinting in a sinister smile.

And then—

Owin leaned over, his arm outstretched. So fluid was his motion that it took you by surprise. “(Name), grab on! Hurry! Before—”

The rest of his warning was muffled by the water. You hardly had any time to brace yourself when you were yanked under, your nails raking across the wood of the oar as you went with the force of the pull. Salt stung your eyes when you cracked them open, peering frantically at blurry surroundings. Teal-green specks slid silently through the shadows, mismatched eyes flicking over your form. And then there was a high, raucous sort of chittering. Like a dolphin’s cry, loud and piercing. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your palms against your ears.

It only lasted a few mere seconds, but it felt like an eternity trapped in the coils of a creature you couldn’t comprehend. One moment you were holding your breath and the next arms were hooked around your torso, and you were pulled up and into the belly of the rowboat. Your hands flew to your throat, and you coughed up seawater while Owin patted you.

“It’s fine. It’s…okay,” Emyr muttered, his voice shot through with fear. It was the most shaken he’d ever sounded.

Blood fogged in the water, staining the tip of his harpoon. He gazed down at his hand. A deep, jagged gash ran angrily from palm to wrist. He hissed and closed his fingers in a tight fist.

“We gotta get back,” Owin was saying, still rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I’ll row. You rest.”

“Not good,” Emyr said instead, shaking his head in dismay as he watched your attackers retreat.

“We’re still in our waters, right? We didn’t go past the boundary, did we?”

“Let’s hope not.”

“We didn’t, right?”

“Let’s hope—” Emyr paused, collecting his words. “Let’s hope those monsters were in the wrong.”

“Father’s gonna kill us.”

“If not us, the monsters.”

Both brothers looked towards you. Your tunic was torn, stained through with saltwater and blood. You shivered all the way to shore.

Following that mishap, an official meeting was called between the Land and the Sea. The King—your father—met the Sea Queen at the border. He stood proud on his ship, peering down at her with fire in his old eyes.

“Your Majesty.”

The Sea Queen was just as formidable as those who came before her. Her tentacles unfurled as one, and if you looked at them long enough they almost seemed to take on the shape of an obsidian-colored crinoline.

“I believe my mother and your father made the terms quite clear all those years ago,” she said, a wave lifting her to meet the King at the deck of his ship. “So then, with that in mind, there should be no reason for us to meet under these circumstances.”

Emyr and Owin stood just behind their father. You peered through their legs at the Sea Queen, silently amazed. You’d never seen anyone quite like her before. At least, not a real person. You’d seen her in storybooks, depicted as a fearsome beast with devilish features, and though there was something intimidating about her gaze and build she appeared understanding enough. Her grey skin was sleek in the morning sun, her long, silvery strands tied up and pinned with an ornate hair ornament. She looked beautiful in a magical, enigmatic way.

“I couldn’t agree more,” came the clipped response of your father. “Alas, misfortune has brought us here.” He stepped aside to allow her to behold Emyr’s bandaged hand. “Harm has befallen my son and daughter. I suppose you might have an inkling as to why they find themselves in their current state?”

She frowned, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of sympathy or some other emotion. “Perhaps one of them can give reason to the wound now marring one of my subject’s sons.”

Your father glanced overboard at the snake-like merman cradled in the arms of another merman. They looked near-identical, their features unmistakable. He glanced back at Emyr, his gaze hard. “Go on then. Explain yourself.”

Emyr stepped forward. “With wholehearted respect, Your Majesty, it was out of self-defense. Your kind—they attacked us first.”

“You were in our waters!” one of the mers exclaimed, pointing a clawed finger towards Emyr. “It’s all your fault Jade got hurt!”

Owin hurried ahead, his hands gripping the taffrail. “He’s playing it up! It was a graze!”

“He could’ve died! You almost killed him!”

“That is enough,” the Sea Queen said, jutting an arm out to silence both sides. “I understand everyone is hurt here. Our feud lies in misunderstanding.” She gazed at you next. “Little one, we have yet to hear your story. Do share.”

You glanced at the guards, at Owin and Emyr, and then at father. He nodded encouragingly. “U-Um!” Shyly, you approached the Sea Queen. “My brothers were teaching me how to swim. I don’t know anything about whose water is whose. I just wanted to learn how to swim.” You met the fierce scowl of the mer holding his twin brother and quickly looked elsewhere. “He grabbed me before my brothers could pull me up.”

“Because you were trespassing. Anyone who tresspasses ought to—”

“Floyd.”

At the not-so-subtle warning in his father’s voice, he shut his mouth and snarled. His brother—Jade—was handed off to their father, who assessed his state with a frown.

“He will live, but it will take time for him to recover. My son is right. Your son could have killed him.”

“Just as your sons could have killed my sister!” Owin shouted, glaring.

Floyd stuck his tongue out, remorseless.

“It is impossible to know which side is in the wrong,” your father began, turning towards the Sea Queen. “Seeing as both have been injured, I am willing to apologize on behalf of my sons.”

“What?!” Owin’s head turned towards his father. “You’re bloody mad! Have you not seen—”

“Father,” Emyr interjected evenly. “We have nothing to apologize for. We were within our waters. We had no ill will towards the others. It was completely innocent.”

The Sea Queen hummed her contemplation. “The boundary was drawn for a reason, decided upon by those who came before us, and yet it does more harm than good. It is not for safety’s sake. It is to keep us divided—to ensure that neither side will ever know peace.”

“And you’re implying that we get rid of it?”

She nodded, quite serious. Everyone looked on in equal parts shock and disbelief. “Why do we continue to fight? It does nothing but open old wounds, rendering them incurable. Innocent lives are lost in petty squabbling. And for what?”

To that, no one could offer a smart reply.

“Therefore I propose peace. A union to welcome a new era—one in which we embrace one another as allies without animosity.”

“A union?” Your father raised a brow, suspicious but willing to listen. “I suppose it would be beneficial. My people would be free to travel the seas at their leisure.” “And mine would no longer have to live in fear of being thoughtlessly slaughtered and taken as trophies.”

“Unbelievable,” Orwin muttered.

Emyr elbowed him. “Knock it off.”

“We’ll collaborate on a contract. One that dissolves the invisible boundary that has been the cause for so much suffering. In order to attain true peace, I shall offer you my only son.” She glanced at you and then back at your father. “Your daughter shall marry him when they are of age.”

“What?! No way! Ew! Gross!” Your voice came out shrill and you shook your head in protest. “I don’t wanna marry an octopus! No, I won’t do it!”

Your father stood in front of you. “She’s my only daughter. If something were to happen—”

“Which is precisely why I bring up this engagement. Should they be betrothed, we as their parents will promise to uphold peace to give them bright futures and they will act as the first example of a human-mer alliance. Unions between humans and merfolk are unheard of, but is this not the best way to foster harmony between the Land and Sea?”

“I won’t do it! No! Don’t make me marry a gross—” Emyr gathered you in his arms, holding his uninjured hand over your mouth.

“Let the grown-ups talk.”

Owin frowned. “I still don’t agree with this…”

Your father mulled it over, his eyes glazed in thought. “Very well. We will create a contract—an official peace treaty.”

Both leaders shook hands and planned to convene at the end of the week to discuss further.

You watched the mers depart, each one slipping under the sea. Floyd was the last to go, staring at you with a mean sort of vitriol. And then he, too, dove under.

“He didn’t mean it, right?” you whispered to Emyr after your father gave the order to turn the ship around and head for land. “I won’t have to marry an octopus, right?”

Emyr could only offer a commiserate frown.

“She’s a brat,” Floyd spits. “Stupid, evil Two Legs.”

Jade chuckles and runs his fingers over the scar. “I consider it an honor.”

“Yeah, well, I think it’s messed up. She’s the reason you can’t ever swim naturally again. While she’s up there in her pretty, little tower, safe and sound, you’re still hurting.”

“It’s not as much of a hindrance as you may think. I’m not weak, mind you.”

Floyd grumbles. “Still. She’s mean.”

Azul gazes up at the palace, sighing dreamily. “She’ll be my wife someday. That’s what humans call it, yes? Husband and wife… What wonderful words.”

It’s been one year since the peace treaty. Since then, humans and merfolk have made an effort to get along. This is the second time Azul will be meeting with you. He’s nervous. The first time you went out to sea to greet him, and he’d gotten so anxious that he inked right then and there. His mother entertained you from where you sat in the boat with your personal guard. It was a mortifying experience—one that had taken him months to recover from.

Now he’s going to try to meet you in the shallows. Try is the key word here. He’s scared, all three hearts beating as one. Is it too late to reschedule?

“I can’t believe you’re actually okay with this. You that lonely?”

Azul turns to scowl at both twins, but it’s mostly directed at Floyd. “I never asked you to tag along. Leave me alone.”

Jade smiles. “And let the Queen’s little prince swim to his death?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Sure you can. But what about when Two Legs gets ya? What then?”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

Floyd rolls his eyes. “You saw what her brothers did to Jade.”

“Because you tried to kill her.”

“Because she was in our territory!”

Azul huffs and pushes him away with a tentacle. “Regardless, we’re supposed to be on good terms now. You’ll break the contract if you try anything dangerous.”

“He’s right, Floyd.”

“Ugh. Whatever.” Floyd turns away, stubborn. “This is lame. I’m not stickin’ around.”

Jade lingers long enough to observe the way Azul lights up when he spots you on the stone steps. And then he disappears beneath the water.

Barefoot, holding your dress up and out of the way, you pad across the beach.

“Why are you here? I’m busy. My brothers are taking me into town.”

The smile that had been fighting to break out on his face frosts over. “Oh. I… Um…” Azul fumbles with the conch shell he’d collected on the way here. A gift for you. He made sure to study human speech patterns in the months leading up to this meeting. He’s fully prepared! And yet you look so displeased. “F-For you! I found it…”

You stare at the shell clutched in a dark tentacle. Tentatively, you reach for it. “Why?”

“Ah. W-Well, my mother says gifts are an important part of any bond. In the sea, we give gifts to the ones we care about. To friends and family and o-other halves…”

You turn the shell over in your hands. “We’re not friends.”

“Not yet,” he tries, but you shake your head.

“You ran away from me the last time we met. That’s not very friendly.”

His face flushes blue and he opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. It wasn’t on purpose.

You’re already turning on your heel. “I don’t have time for this.” You toss the shell over your shoulder. Azul watches it land in the sand, just out of his grasp.

“W-Wait! I… I want to talk to you. Please don’t go. You’re going to be my other half one day, so I’d like to—”

But you’re already dashing across the beach to get to the stairs.

Azul deflates against the rock. Tears overflow in floods. Is it because of him? Is he to blame? Why don’t you want to be his friend? Is it because of the peace treaty? Why?

Why? Why? Why?

Azul doesn’t want to think negatively of you. Humans are sensitive creatures. He reads up on them in the palace library, poring over literature and textbooks in an effort to better understand you. But as the months pass and you seem to simply tolerate him for the sake of the alliance, he begins to suspect something.

It’s made apparent the next time he sees you, where you walk right past the beach to catch up with your brothers. He hides behind the rocks, two blue eyes following your figure until you’re out of sight.

Floyd was right. You are a brat.

And yet he can’t hate you.

On the eve of your eighteenth birthday, Azul meets you in the shallows.

Nowadays you send letters, preferring strained long distance over the personal intimacy of face-to-face relations. These exchanges are purely diplomatic. But now that he’s asked to meet with you, a rare occurrence, you’ve deigned to greet him in person. It’s the least you can do after he’s gone through the trouble to travel here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him that he’s almost unrecognizable. You remember the round, baby-faced octo-mer from your childhood. The one who lounges against the rocks is leaner now—his features defined, jawline as sharp as his eyes. They cut through the gloom to find you.

“You wished to see me?” You’re in your nightwear, a silky gown with an even softer robe. A cool breeze blows across the beach, and you wrap your arms around yourself for extra warmth. “Azul?”

He hesitates, his gaze trailing up your legs. You’ve also changed a lot in the time you’ve been apart. You’ve grown taller, filling out in places he didn’t know humans could fill. What he’d give to hold you… His mother says he needs to be patient. Fickle thing that you are, you’re the reason he’s spent six years trying to appease you through letters—to win you over and be anything more than that “annoying octopus” you’re doomed to marry. Perhaps it would have been easier to act just as you do if it weren’t for the fact that he’d been elated at the premise of having someone to love. When his mother broached the idea in the days following her meeting with the Land King, he’d stared at her with wide, excited eyes.

“There’s a human girl who wants to be my friend?” he asked, to which his mother smiled and nodded.

More than a friend, actually, but then all he was focused on was finally getting to experience the one thing he’d never known or had: friendship.

Sighing, he foregoes formality and holds out a necklace. It dangles from the tip of his tentacle. Strung on a dainty, silver strand, pearls wink back at you under the moonlight. Azul averts his eyes, his cheeks a pleasant periwinkle.

“Happy birthday…”

“Oh.” You move in closer, taking the necklace from him. His tentacle pursues you, twining delicately around your wrist. “Um… What is it? Do you need—whoa!”

Azul tugs you closer. The sea laps at your ankles. Beneath a tapestry of stars, you meet his azure stare. His features are set with a determination you’ve never seen before.

“I want to start over.”

“Start over?”

“I’d like to be on friendly terms with you. We’re so cold. Distant…” Azul frowns, seeming unsure of what to say or do next. The tentacle laced around your wrist like a bracelet tightens its hold. “We’re to be wed one day. I want to make this work.”

You blink at him. He thinks he may have gotten through to you, having finally broken through layers of stone and ice, but then your nose scrunches and odium shimmers in your gaze.

“That’s impossible. I’m a human. How am I supposed to live with an octopus?” You shake him off with a huff. “I’m not sure what our parents think this will accomplish. I don’t want to be a pawn to be moved around for the sake of peace. I’m my own person.”

Azul’s expression sours. His lip curls up into a sneer. “Well, I don’t find it very enjoyable either. You’re not the only victim in this scenario.”

You exhale an exhausted breath. “Azul, I appreciate the gift, but it doesn’t mean anything if you’re only giving it to me to curry favor.”

I wasn’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t say that. Admitting it would be a weakness. Admitting it would mean coming to terms with an unrequited opinion.

“At least one of us is making a conscious effort.”

“At least one of us isn’t trying so hard. It’s pathetic.”

“You’re not obligated to accept my goodwill.” He smiles, smug. “Yet you do every time. I’d wager you enjoy my materialistic affections.”

“As if.” Despite this, you hold the necklace out of his reach when a tentacle flexes towards it. “It’s mine now.”

“So you are fond of my ‘pathetic’ ways!”

“I’m not!”

You jerk away with a vicious scowl, but your foot catches in the sand and you quickly find yourself tipping backwards. If not for the tentacles that coil around your waist to steady you, you would have fallen on your rear. Your chest heaves with adrenaline. Stunned, you stare at Azul.

“You…caught me,” you breathe, lips parted in awe.

“Did you think I’d let you fall?” He cocks his head at you, grinning playfully. “Why, I’d never! Unless it’s me you’re falling for, in which case I gladly welcome the—”

“You’re such a pest.” Untangling yourself from his grasp, which he allows without scrimmage, you step away from the water’s edge. He watches you secure the pearls around your neck, and his hearts stumble in his chest when you point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t delude yourself with foolish nonsense. I have no interest in you.”

With an indignant harrumph, you start towards the palace.

“May we meet here tomorrow?” Azul calls out after you, testing his luck with what little chance he has.

“Don’t push it.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“Good. Keep waiting, dummy!” You break into a sprint, hurrying off into the shadows.

Azul smiles at the empty beach. Whether or not you like him, it doesn’t matter. You’re to be his one day. You’ve always been, ever since he was eleven.

He’ll wait, even if you won’t show.

Ostensibly, twenty-one years wise, you’re getting married today.

Your gown is just as exquisite as your hair and makeup. Pearls cling to your throat and arms—classic wedding attire for merfolk. A thin veil shields the scheme in your stare.

This was an inevitability, but you’re determined to fight it until the end. No matter how quickly time seems to pass, you’ll do everything you can to stall and slow it.

Gripping a sharpened dagger in a resolute fist, you drag it through the long, sprawling train of your gown.

“As if I’d marry an octopus,” you grumble, cutting fine fabric until you’re permitted smoother movement. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you scowl. “I’m no one’s bride.”

By the time the maids arrive to check on you, you’ve already stolen out the window.

The rowboat sways on choppy water. You’ve watched your brothers do this enough times to have the technique engraved in your memory. Your arms strain with the oars, every muscle screaming in protest, but you fight through the pain. The palace looks smaller and smaller with every passing minute. Eventually, you’re so far out that the land is but a mere speck.

It’s going well. You’re escaping towards a better future—a future without the octopus prince.

You glance towards the horizon. Your boat undulates with the waves.

You’ll miss your brothers, your maids, your personal guard…

Water slops over the edge. You yelp, startled. Have the seas always been so rough?

Despite everything, you’ll miss your father.

Just as you think this, your boat rocks to the side. You grab onto the edge to steady yourself, but it’s already too late. It tips over and you go with it, careening into the sea with a noisy splash. Twin shadows cut seamlessly through the murky water. You catch sight of a yellow eye before you propel yourself towards the sky, coughing and heaving once you break the surface. You grab onto the overturned rowboat, your dagger clutched in one hand.

You search the surface for them, eyes flicking to and fro in a frantic panic.

Somewhere… Anywhere… Where are you?

And then you find them, peering at you from the other side of the boat.

“Go on then,” you spit, glaring. “Kill me.”

Floyd bares his teeth at you. “This time I ain’t gonna leave a scar.”

“You know we mustn’t. That’s not why we’re here.” Jade smiles at you, but there’s something in his eyes that unnerves you. “Your Highness, you should know it’s poor manners to leave the groom on his special day.”

Floyd circles you restlessly. “S’not fair we gotta be nice when you’re so mean.”

“I’m not going to marry him.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in that matter.”

“What’d Azul ever do to you?”

You attempt to answer that before realizing the truth. Nothing. He’s done absolutely nothing but be kind and understanding and patient. And I took that, chewed it up, and spat in his face.

“If you used that brain of yours, you wouldn’t have thrown yourself to the sharks. We can’t get to you on land.” “But it’s fair game in the sea,” Floyd finishes, every syllable dripping with pride. “Stupid Two Legs.”

“I’m inclined to agree. You’re not the brightest human. A pity.”

“My brother should’ve gutted you when he had the chance. Maybe then—”

You see the whites of Floyd’s eyes when he strikes, launching himself at you with a clawed hand, sharp, pointed teeth aiming for your jugular.

This is it. You’re dead.

…or not.

The searing pain never comes, nor does the impending laceration. You cling to the boat and watch dark tentacles rise from the depths to close around Floyd, ensnaring him in a firm hold. He thrashes, snapping his jaws like a deranged beast.

“Let go of me, Azul! Lemme at her! She’s a bitch! I’ll kill her!”

“There will be none of that.” Azul tuts. “I don’t intend to marry a corpse.”

Jade swims over to you. “My feelings aren’t hurt in the slightest, Your Highness. If it weren’t for your status and connection to Azul, I’d have disemboweled you ages ago. Quite a relief for you, yes?”

You swallow your horror, allowing him to detach you from the boat so that Azul can turn it over. A tentacle curls around your waist, lifts you from the water, and places you back in the boat. You stare at your hands. They’re trembling. You can hardly hold the dagger properly.

It takes some convincing and a lukewarm apology from you, but Floyd promises to be good. He doesn’t do anything as you’re pulled back to shore, but he does stare at you for the duration of the trip, his eyes tracking your every movement. You press yourself into the belly of the boat, defeated and riddled with anxiety.

Your father isn’t pleased. When you see his enraged expression, the debate dies on your tongue. “You are to marry the prince,” he seethes, pulling you aside, “or else you jeopardize the peace of our kingdom.”

You’re washed and fitted in a new dress. Guards are stationed at all possible routes to prevent another escape.

When you walk down the beach to meet Azul in the shallows, your veil shields the sadness in your stare.

The ceremony carries on without incident. Floyd watches from the water, lurking like Death. You speak rehearsed vows in robotic monotone, mindlessly floating through the rigmarole like it’s second nature. Azul smiles at you through it all, sweetly smitten.

It’s a nightmare lived in real time.

Humans and mers alike congratulate you, cheering for this momentous occasion. Your tongue is numb by the end of it all. You’ve expressed faux gratitude so many times that it hurts to even force the words. And now, as night descends and the party kicks into full swing, you’re left reflecting on the day.

Freedom feels so far away. You’ll never know it again, will you?

Azul guides you away from the crowd. Firelight grows dim with the distance. Eventually, you find yourself taking refuge in a tiny inlet cut into the beach. A rocky outcrop hides you from the moon’s spotlight.

“I’m not upset,” Azul murmurs, curling a tentacle up your leg. “But Floyd is.”

“His brother’s the one who hurt me all those years ago.”

“That was before the union.”

“I’m not letting it go.”

“Perhaps not now, but you will. One day.”

You don’t believe him.

“Our people are at peace. Aren’t you pleased, my love?”

You shove him away, gathering heaps of your dress to walk in calf-deep water. “I’m not your love.”

“Legally, you are.”

“That means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”

Azul sighs. “Even now, after everything, you’re still trying to flee.”

“For good reason. I don’t want to be tied down.”

Azul inches closer. Another tentacle wraps slyly around your ankle.

“You’re so beautiful. I feel like the luckiest mer in the sea. To be able to call you my own… My beautiful bride.” He pulls you closer. You resist weakly. “Now that we’re alone I can finally tell you the very thing I’ve thought of ceaselessly for years.”

A tentacle slides up your leg, straying closer to your inner thigh. You flinch away.

“Azul, wait. I don’t want—”

“I love you.”

You squirm in his hold, attempting to thwart the tentacles that grab at your every limb. You trip over yourself in the process. This time Azul doesn’t catch you. Water laps at your dress, soaking through at once. He’s radiant beneath the moon. Dreading his touch, you scoot as far from him as you can get in the water, hoping to reach land. Azul seizes your wrist and pulls you into his arms. You fight him with more force.

“No… No, let go of me! Release me!”

“Why should I? You’re mine now. Is it not customary for a married couple to consummate their new bond? We do something similar in the sea.” A tentacle brushes your veil back so that he can look upon your pretty face. “I’d take you to a quiet space in the seagrass, lay you down in the sand, and then—”

“I don’t want that! No!” You lash out, swinging blindly. A tentacle shoots out to stop your arm before it can smack him. “Azul, please—”

“I was patient. I waited and waited in hopes that you might warm up to me. I cherished you in silence. I learned your language. Your customs. Your habits. I wrote to you. Traveled to meet you. And yet you look at me as if I’m a monster…”

It’s not the devastated look in his eyes or the edge in his voice that scares you. It’s the startling gentleness with which he handles you. Tentacles loop around your body, exploring beneath your gown. You wriggle in discomfort, yelping when suckers brush against the frilly garter secured around your thigh. Azul hums and holds you up in his tentacles, using two to spread your legs so that he may slide it from your leg.

“I wasn’t forceful. I courted you kindly. You accepted all of my gifts. You wore them proudly and I thought—I knew you would love me, too. You were mine from the moment our parents signed that agreement. And if you leave me, you’ll break a political promise and then our kingdoms will go to war and I’ll be sure to collect the heads of your family first. Each one of them, and you will watch as I bring ruin to the kingdom you love so fondly.”

“N-No… Please stop. Please.”

“I’ve waited ten years for you.” A tentacle hooks around your panties. You thrash again, shaking your head at him. He remains unconvinced, watching with gleeful eyes as your nudity is revealed to him. “And aren’t you an angel? Oh, you’re so pretty…”

Like your hopes, your panties are cast aside.

The tip of a tentacle prods curiously at your pussy. Your breath hitches.

“W-Wait! You… You can’t.” His eyes find yours, and you swallow the rising sob. “T-That can’t go inside… It won’t fit. It won’t—”

Azul smiles. “Of course it will. The human body is capable of marvelous feats.”

Even though it’s pointless, you struggle. “I can’t! Please… Azul, I’m scared. Please don’t do this…”

A lone tentacle slides into your hand. Thoughtless, you hold tight.

“My love, there’s no need to cry. I’m not going to hurt you.” He brings you closer, kissing your tears away. “I’m here for you. I’ve always been here, even when you didn’t seem to need me.”

You hiccup, your chest heaving. It’s not lonely for long, for he pulls your dress down your shoulders. Your breasts spill free and are quickly cradled in cold hands. Azul watches your expression with an intense focus while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. You grit your teeth, refusing to respond. But then the tentacle between your legs finds your clit and a sucker affixes to it, suctioning slowly. You gasp and throw your head back, bolts of pleasure racing up your spine. It happens in a white-hot flash. You slacken in his grasp.

Azul laughs, astonished. “Did you cum? Already?”

“Nooo,” you whine, closing your hand around the tentacle once more. Another one strokes your cheek. “You’ve had your fun. Now let go of me…”

“What a silly demand.”

He tugs on your nipples. You groan, lashes fluttering. “Ooh… Stop. No, stop it… Don’t touch there. Not—haa… Not there!”

“You’re so sensitive.” He drags the underside of a tentacle along your cunt and shivers. “And so wet… Is this your season? Do humans experience such a thing?”

You’ve no idea what he’s referring to, but before you can dwell on it he leans down to take your perky bud in his mouth. Your free hand grabs at his hair, pinning him to your chest. His tongue laves across it, warm and wet. You shouldn’t enjoy it so much, and yet you can’t stop yourself from crying out.

He hums against your skin, beaming like a devil. You can’t hate him. He’s your husband. He’s yours. You shouldn’t hate him.

You’re falling apart in his tentacles, grinding down to chase the bliss provided by the underside of the appendage clinging to your pussy. The sinful squelch of skin on skin fills the quiet inlet. The scent of sex and salt intermingles. It’s wrong and it’s right. It’s instinct, carnal and corrupt. Azul groans against your breast, your teat between his teeth.

“Az—ooh!” You tug on his hair, insatiable. Your brain is fogging over with lust. You don’t want to lose yourself in this madness. You can’t. “N-No more… No more.”

But he’s not listening. He pinches your other nipple between his fingers, and that’s all it takes for you to unravel.

In the aftermath, the tapered tip of a thicker tentacle squirms between your thighs. Mindlessly, you spread your legs and lift your hips for him. It presses in shallowly, a jarring experience.

“Not inside—don’t! You can’t!”

Azul pulls away from you, his expression scrunched in woozy ecstasy. “Why not?” he mumbles, smiling stupidly. “You’re my bride. It’s only fair…”

Before you can bicker, he kisses you. His tongue pursues yours in a sloppy tango. You lick into his mouth, desperate and dazed. Lost in a sea of salacity, shipwrecked on an island of forgotten inhibitions.

The tentacle pushes through rings of tight, slick muscle. Tears spring to your eyes. It feels weird and foreign, so unlike your fingers. He holds you close, minding his strength and pace. It fills you slowly, reaching places you’ve never been able to feel. The lust numbs your senses and gives way to something animalistic—a base desire you’ve suppressed. Azul rocks the appendage deeper until it’s pushed up against the entrance to your womb, squeezed snugly in your warm walls.

“I-It’s in…” you mumble once he’s broken the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths. “It’s really…inside me…”

Azul kisses your cheek and pets you with a tentacle. “We were made for each other.”

Surely not, you think, but it feels so when he draws back and thrusts in. Maybe he’s right.

He fucks you gently, savoring every single sound you make. He tells you he loves you, whispers it over and over like it’s prayer. You nod dumbly, grabbing at his hand to hold it. The both of you are gasping in unison, chasing cloud nine. In just a few more deep strokes, his tip bullying its way to your womb, he finally finds his end. A thin substance fills you up in plentiful amounts. Distantly, you think it’s water until he drags your hips further down. Your mouth drops open in a strangled scream as something round and gelatinous passes through. It settles in your womb, and you know right away that it shouldn’t be there.

You panic. “W-Wait… Wha—Zul… Stop… No, I don’t want—”

“It’s all right,” he breathes, his mouth on your shoulder. He soothes you with soft shushes and even softer kisses. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

You dig your nails into the tentacle curled in your palm just as a second orb squeezes through. He groans, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Finally…” He pants, a wobbly smile stretching on his delirious countenance. “Finally, my love, my dear—oh, my beloved bride!”

He cradles you like a mother would a newborn. You lie there as he fills you, your voice hoarse from babbling and bewailing. These things—little orbs of jelly—are stuffed into your womb, and by the time you surpass twenty you lose count and blank out, trembling through yet another orgasm. You’re not sure how many more he has left or how many more you can possibly fit. It feels too good to think about that.

“Bigger. They’ll get bigger. You’ll look so pretty—round and full and soft.”

Dizzy, you glance at the bloated dome that is your belly. Your gown strains over it, an impressively deceptive size that you almost mistake for pregnancy. That’s when it clicks. Eggs. These are eggs.

“I’ll make sure they survive. All of them—as many as I possibly can. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll keep you content. I’ll fill you with love—so much love—an abundance of it, and you’ll never know emptiness again,” he rambles, resting a tentacle over your distended middle.

It’s not just a senseless sweet nothing. It’s a promise.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere azul #n/sfw #tw: noncon #tw: breeding #tw: oviposition

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bluegiragi · 11 months

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I'm not sure how I found your account but I have loved all of your creations. They have fueled my hyper-fixation for Call of Duty.

When it comes to your Monster au, are there any characteristics from the team that you see them having that you haven't been able to draw out in a storyline?

that's such a good question omg...it'd probably be all the ways that the 141 grew up.

(warning - lots of reading under the cut)

Price is a dragon hybrid, which means that historically his kind has not had amazing relationships with humans or each other. Close-knit dragon communities are still really rare, since instinctively they're extremely territorial and require space to themselves and a way to assert their own strength and hoard. But, sort of by government mandate, dragons need to keep within designated areas in case they accidentally torch a human city y'know. So he did grow up in a colony, but all the families there tended to keep to themselves, exempting mating season and the occasional territory fight. He left to join the military when he was pretty young, all things considered, and I think he did it mainly out of boredom. They were happy to have him of course - dragons are massive powerhouses with long lifespans, and very rare in their ranks (they dislike being ordered around). Price would like to think he's destined for a quiet life, but his job really let him wreak havoc and he took pleasure in indulging that primal urge of his. He grew out of that destructive phase though - nowadays, his priorities consist of taking care of his team.

Soap is a werewolf, which is a monster that subscribes to the 'it-takes-a-village' kind of mentality for raising a child. The Mactavishes are an average werewolf pack, with Soap, his parents, his grandparents, and his two sisters (one older, and one younger). Wolves are social creatures, but the older generation likes to stay within their own kind, if only for safety reasons. Soap's always been a go-getter though, so joining the military for a chance to see more of the world just made sense to him. Full-blooded werewolves are pretty sought after in the ranks, but they're a relatively newblood kind of monster. Superiors will often do their best to tame wolves and bring them to heel, with differing levels of success. If you win their loyalty, they're yours for life, but do them wrong and the pack will turn on you. Because of that danger of mutiny, officials will tend to keep it to one werewolf a team, despite them being stronger together.

Harpies are typically solitary and aren't very present parents, since they'll raise their children until they're 16 then dump them somewhere and tell them to survive. It sounds ruthless to most, but it's just how their culture is and it's how Gaz grew up. He's a resourceful type, and joined the military as soon as he could. Harpies are actually one of the more common monsters used in the forces, since their eyesight and wings make for pretty amazing scouting forces/snipers. In saying that though, there's no automatic comradery to be found between two harpies on the same team - in fact, they'll usually be combative at worst and cold/distant at best. Historically, harpies have found pride in their own independence, so being forced to interact/work together can be seen as an insult. Gaz himself is pretty charismatic and cool-headed, but even he'd get irritated if he was forced to share space with another harpy. He was shipped around between teams a lot as a lead sniper before he got promoted and met Price.

Simon is a wraith, but before that he was a normal human, if a bit freakishly strong. His time in the military was an escape from his home life, and after he became a wraith, that distance between himself and the human world only grew. Not a lot is known about wraiths, because the only way you'd be able to study one is if they let you and wraiths are inherently extremely private creatures with a tendency for extreme bursts of violence. They're also almost impossible to catch/imprison, so Simon's an asset the military is determined to hold onto.

#ooft that was a lot #i may tweak their stories a little bit as i go #but this is the general vibe for all of their backstories #askbox #anon

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blackjackkent · 2 months

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The stories say to touch her is to feel Yourself consumed by flame upon her skin. They say her blood is made of molten steel Charged with infernal fire from within. They call her many things, those fucking pricks: The Devil's Advocate, the Demonsbane, Archdevil's Torch, the Terror of the Styx, Attack dog of Avernus, child of pain. So many monstrous names… and then the truth-- A loyal soul who was not made for war, Betrayed and mutilated, robbed of youth, And forced to live untouched and soaked in gore. Ten years she fought and struggled not to die… Till hope came in a ship that split the sky.

#BG3 #baldur's Gate 3 #bg3 poetry #Karlach #Karlach BG3 #Karlach Cliffgate #idk man #I can't sleep and my brain's being a turd XD #I kind of like how this turned out tho #maybe I'll do more for the other companions at some point

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pearl-blue-musings · 4 months

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I See You pt 3

Hi I know this is a long time coming. This is also gonna be in 4 parts not three cause well this got long

Pairing: pirate!Shinsou Hitoshi x fem!princess!reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, vaginal penetration, alcohol, drinking, unprotected sex, pretty lore heavy

Word count: 5.4K

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

The stuffy air of the palace dungeon smells extra pungent today. Despite being down there and held captive for years, his eyes have yet to adjust to the darkness of the rotting walls. The captive takes a deep breath and his lungs fill with smoke, mold, and the disgusting smell of his own excrement. He tries to keep the growing bile wanting to escape his mouth down as he hears pounding footsteps. Great, he thinks, what do they want to tell him now? The dimming light from the torch slowly approaching burns his eyes. He hisses as more light streams in and a few men come toward his cell, one figure he’s come to know against his own wishes. The gold that gleams from his crown does not match the wicked and sinister smile that lies underneath.

“Your disgrace of a daughter is dead.”

The booming voice of the king barely registers in the prisoner's mind. His daughter is dead? How? How can this be? He stumbles back farther into his cell, a series of mumbled words leaving his lips. A guard smacks the bars, shaking and startling the man inside. His jaded eyes meet the kings and there’s no sense of sadness or despair. There’s no love, just pure hatred and an unbridled desire for power. The man struggles to speak, feeling his voice rasp and scratch against his throat as empty tears try to fall. “You, you killed my family. My wife, my daughter… what more do,” he pants, “do ya want from me?”

In the midst of the darkness, the king is able to see weak and tired sky blue eyes and almost spits at the man behind bars. A sinister chuckle emits from the king's mouth that jolts the guards around him. The king bends down and reaches forward to grab an aggressive amount of hair on the prisoner’s head. “Let’s get one thing straight, pirate scum. Your daughter jumped into the open waters of the sea all on her own accord. I didn’t have to take in your hellspawn! I treated her with the utmost respect-”

“You hated ‘er. I heard ya was tryin’ to marry her off t’ the Todoroki’s. Guessin’ she didn’t like that. She was always a smart one.”

That earns the prisoner a harsh tug and smack against the bars. He groans in pain before chuckling. “What’s the matter? Ya upset you can’t control me?”

“Whatever that wench saw in you I will never know,” the king huffs with frustration. “How could she fall in love and bear the child of a pirate when I was second in line for the throne?! You gave all of that up!” The king starts to pull roughly on the prisoner so hard the guards had to pull him back. The bruised man behind bars continues to laugh at the struggles of the king, blood seeping from his nose and lips.

With a bloody and crooked smile, the prisoner responds: “I decided a pirate king was better suited fer a guy like me. And yer mad ma and dad lemme do it. And,” he coughs out, his bright blue eyes burning with a passion seldom felt…

“It’s not my fault she fell in love with me first.”

The starry nights on deck have started to feel different the longer you’ve been on your fathers ship. The sound of the waves crashing against the vessel have now come to calm you down as your mind races. You take a deep breath and welcome the salt and grime from the ocean and ship deck, smiling as the once unfamiliar sights and smells now bring you comfort. As you sit dangerously atop the gunwale, palms gripping the fortified wood as your legs sway above the depths of what could have been your grave. A part of you, hidden away still wonders what it would be like to be consumed by the waters that stole your father-

“Earth t’ princess? Ya not thinkin about jumping again are ya?”

Your stomach drops and fills with butterflies at the sound of a voice that has made you happier than you thought. Secure hands hold onto your hips and pull you off and into a firm chest. You feel a heat rise to your cheeks that you haven’t felt since that night with the prince. Shinsou looks down on you fondly before gently letting you go. A quick blush comes to his ears before he clears his throat and stands beside you. You both rest your elbows along the edge, letting your head rest against his arm. You suddenly find the courage to speak after letting your thoughts run wild.

“I hope,” you cough out, “I hope you get to be captain of this ship. I know it’s in my fathers name but, after our port stop a few days ago,I…” You trail off as you turn your head toward your companion and your voice is lost. There’s something about seeing Shinsou in the moonlight alone on the ship, his hair blowing in the wind, that has you believing in a future you never imagined. You never want to leave this ship. You don’t wanna leave his side. You want to stay with this crew and captain this ship with Shinsou by your side. Why has being on a pirate ship opened up a new side to you? It’s like this has been destined for you your whole life. If only your parents could see you now. If only.

Shinsou smirks and snaps in your face. “See somethin’ ya like? I know I do.” You blink quickly to catch his gaze, realizing you were just lost in your thoughts. Your chest heaves, you’ve never been this nervous ever in your life. Is it because you’re going back to your kingdom? It’s been weeks. “Hello? Princess? Ya alright?”

You shake your head on instinct and feel yourself wanting to close off. It’s like you’re back at the castle, being nervous in front of the king trying to get your voice heard. Your throat constricts and blocks your breathing as if the wrath of the king's commands are holding you back once again. It isn’t until you feel calloused hands grip and shake your shoulders that you take a deep inhale.

“Where’d ya go? Are ya really sure yer up for going to the kingdom?” Shinsou rubs your shoulders and walks you away from the edge. He walks you to his room, considerably smaller than the captain’s but well enough. The other crew members, specifically Midoriya and Bakugou, look on with concern. They both ask their quartermaster what’s going on but Shinsou waves them off. “Just some nerves, panicked a little. Keep up the night watch.” The duo salute him and the pair make their way to his private quarters.

There, he sits you on his bed as he grabs you something to drink. You take the cup from him and give a quick sniff, coughing from the strength of the alcohol. “Rum? Really?” Shinsou chuckles at your inquisition and shrugs his shoulders with a grin. “Imma pirate,” he chides, “‘ta be expected.” You couldn’t help but laugh with him, clinking your glass with his as you take a swig of the drink. You cough a bit, not used to the potency of the alcohol as your pallet has been adjusted to wine. It burns more than you would like but the taste is admirable. Shinsou watches you carefully as you drink, relaxing more into the situation.

It isn’t lost on him that the two of you are sitting on his bed as you share your drinks. The rum has you feeling more loose and relaxed, the most relaxed you’ve felt in years. And it might be the liquor, but you don’t want this night to end, this moment, this adventure… you never want it to stop. You fall back against his bed which causes Shinsou to laugh.

“You tryna choke? You gotta sit up when ya drink,” he chides with a small laugh. He tries to pick you up but you’re determined to bring him to where you are. The pirate finds himself falling under your pressure, his hand wrapping around your waist to try and get you up but you’re being a cute deadweight. He does his best to not squish you as you yelp from the surprise position. You find yourself now sharing breaths with the man on top of you. You suddenly realize his hand is on your waist, your chest is heaving up and down from the closeness and he doesn’t smell bad? Your head is swirling, but you’re not afraid of it. Your eyes travel from his own down to his lips which he keeps licking. Has he always been this alluring to you?

“Fuck, princess… can I kiss ya? I just, ya look…”

You gently whisper, “yes. Yes you ca-“

Shinsou doesn’t let you finish your sentence before he captures your lips in a long awaited kiss. His grip on your waist tightens and he shifts his legs to be straddling yours, almost naturally. Shinsou tilts his head and gently cups your face, feeling the callouses on his palms and fingertips caressing your cheek. You’re not sure where to put your hands as the kiss deepens, feelings of anxiety starting to rise within you. The only time you’ve ever been intimate in this way with anyone was before your supposed wedding, the night with the Todoroki prince. He had made you feel things you never thought were possible, sensations you’ve been wanting to relive again and again. And it’s starting to happen now as Shinsou began to grind his hips into yours. You find yourself placing your hands on his chest and matching his movements, spreading your legs wider instinctively. You want to be wrapped up in him, drowning in his touch and his scent.

Above you, Shinsou groans into your mouth as he repositions his arms to cage your head in. His eyes flutter open as the need for air becomes too great. Purple strands of hair start to press to his forehead as the heat in his room and between the two of you rises. He can already see the way your gorgeous pupils are becoming more and more dilated, similar to his own. He spots a bead of sweat trickle down your neck and he leans forward to suck on the warm skin. The way you moan and keen up into his chest goes straight to his cock and he sucks harder. Your fingers run through his soft tufts of hair, tugging as his lips go lower on your neck, nearing your collarbone. Your button up shirt is proving to be a hindrance and Shinsou sits up slightly. He takes a deep breath and makes certain eye contact with you. “May I?” His fingers play with the fabric of your top as he waits for your consent. The way he’s touching you with such care, such comfort, such possessiveness; where has he been your whole life? You almost want to tear up. No one in the kingdom will or had ever treated you this way and you doubt you ever will.

Your head drops in a nod and a whispered yes, while your hands fondle with his top eager to take it off. Shinsou nods back and rumbles out, “be patient, kitten. We’ll get t’ me.” You pout as he carefully undresses you, exhaling sharply through his nose at the sight of your naked body. Heat rushes to your cheeks but you don’t dare hide your expression. He smirks and sits up, the alcohol getting to him slightly. Shinsou struggles to take off his top and you find yourself giggling with him as he gets stuck. “Quit yer laughin’,” he chides. You can’t help but laugh harder as your hands touch the bottom of his top, which happens to be at his mid torso. Your jaw drops at how chiseled and rugged it is, your fingers running up and down the front of his body. His skin is littered in scars and you’re mesmerized by the potential stories each one has. You barely register that his top has hit the floor and Shinsou is openly staring at you ogling his body. He suddenly feels shy yet proud of himself at the same time.

Your fingernails brush against his skin and Shinsou shivers. Your eagerness to see him undress spurs him on to take your hands and force them to remove his top. The movement is intimate, and your hands end up pressing up his chest to finally feel him underneath you, his pecs making you keen. The heat is intense, your chest heaves as you pull him into another fiery kiss. This time there are no barriers barring you from truly feeling each other. His confident hand trails down your side and toward your front, diving lower to where you need him most. Your hands haphazardly reach for his pants to pull them down, then your own impatiently.

Shinsou steps out of his trousers with a horny chuckle as you kick your own away as well. He goes back to what he was doing before, his fingers travel toward your core. He curses at the heat and juices emanating from your now throbbing pussy. His breath gets heavy as he slowly rubs at your lower lips. A jolt shoots through you at how gentle yet possessive he is, making you moan loudly. A hand slaps over your lips as Shinsou continues to lubricate his fingers. “Princess,” he lulls out, “ya gotta be quiet. Do ya want the whole crew to hear ya?”

You shake your head with a whimper as he inserts a finger into your waiting cunt. Your hips move on their own against his hand, your own grabbing onto his shoulders. Your nails dig into the skin as he inserts a second finger, scissoring you open. The way your body moves and the sounds you emit go straight to his cock as he holds back a grumble of desire. A slimy warmth is felt in his palm and he realizes it’s your tongue. He hisses through his teeth as he gently removes his hand from your mouth. You pant with your tongue out, “I want more,” you whisper lustfully. “I wanna make you feel good.”

Shinsou clamps his hand over your mouth as he brushes and pushes the bottom of his other palm against your clit, earning him an almost silent whimper. Your body shakes at the increased pleasure. Shinsou’s cock twitches at the noise as beads of pre cum form at his flushed tip. Almost too quickly, he removes his hands from in and on you to place your hands above your head. Shinsou leans in close, the alcohol on his breath intoxicating you further. “Keep ya hands there, okay pretty girl?” You can feel his voice rumble in his chest as you nod at his request. He releases your wrists before sliding two fingers up your slit and coating his dick with it. Your throat strains to hold back the moan of ecstasy that wants to escape but you do as you are told (maybe you’ll find out what happens if you disobey him someday).

A calming hand rubs at your hip and inner thigh as he lines up with your entrance. The tip of his cock teases your lower lips and you keen against the bed. Shinsou takes a deep breath before calling out, “princess.” You gently meet his gaze and he continues in a low tone. “You can back out if ya want. There ain’t no pressure. Stop m’now before I get lost in all that y’are.”

The two of you may have started this under the influence of alcohol but there isn’t a sign of it at this moment. The two of you are drunk off of each other, slowly getting poisoned over the course of your relationship. You briefly disobey him and move your hands to cup his face, his stubble more present covered in sweat. Your legs widen as you hold his stare. “I want this. I want you.”

That was all he needed to hear before he slowly slid himself inside you. A whimper is caught in your throat as you hold onto him tightly. Your breath comes out labored as more and more of his length enters you. Shinsou shushes and coos at you, “I’ve got ya, ya doin so good f’me. Shit princess, my princess, ya feel so…”

He drops off as he bottoms out with a grunt. Sex with Shoto was great, but now you’re convinced your body was made for Hitoshi. Although he’s thicker and longer, the pain subsided easily as you adjusted to him. A ring of cream is already forming at the base of his cock and it takes everything in him to not fuck you senseless. The fucking can be saved for another day, he needs to make sure you know you’re loved.

“‘M gonna move.”

His hips slide out and then back in, meeting yours in a juicy squelch of skin against skin. Your toes curl and your jaw drops in an agonizing scream of pleasure that never comes. Shinsou slots his lips over yours to silence the two of you. The atmosphere is heavy with sweat and sex, nary a scent of rum from before. Almost naturally, you wrap your legs around his waist and he somehow goes in deeper. Both of you break the kiss to groan together at the new sensation. His body rolls and thrusts into you like a dance you never want to end or tire of. Your walls clench around him and he stutters slightly, his dick twitching inside of you. That coil inside has been wound up so tight and for so long that the spring is finally going to release. Your abs contract as you meet his hips with yours. You bury your head into his neck and whimper out, “I’m so close, baby. I wanna cum!” The way you beg for him to become undone almost makes him finish right then. He can feel how close you are with how you’re gripping his cock. He never wants to be without this feeling; a feeling he hadn’t realized he was looking for.

He takes one hand to cup your cheek as he pumps in and out of you faster, the other rubbing intense circles on your clit. Your toes curl and your muscles begin to shake from the intensity with Shinsou whispering in your ear. “That’s it baby, cum fer me. Want ya to cream all on my cock.” He pistons his hips faster, “fuck I’m gonna make ya all mine. Yer all mine.”

“Hnng, I’m cumming Hitoshi!”

“Kiss me.”

With your hair stuck to your forehead, you kiss him as your muscles twitch and contract. Your orgasm rocks you, screaming into his lips as you finally let the spring loose. Shinsou holds you tightly as he fucks you through both of your orgasms. Warmth fills you up as he releases inside you, spilling his seed into you. Your muscles finally relax as your legs flop onto the mattress, Shinsou gently following suit. He kisses your sweaty cheeks, forehead, nose, before reaching your soft lips. Your bodies are still connected as he presses his forehead against yours. His breathing finally calms down enough for him to gently pull out. You whimper from the loss of his touch. He chuckles and pecks your forehead. “I gotta clean ya up. I’ll be right back.”

Shinsou steadies himself before walking to the other side of the room to grab a rag and some water. He rakes a hand through his hair to get out more of the sweat. He’s about to ask you how it was when he sees you passed out, soundly asleep. His stomach jumps and his heart flutters at seeing you this peaceful. For the last couple of months of knowing you he’s never seen this expression on you. He must have really wore you out and that swells his pride. Shinsou gently brushes some hair back as he cleans you up just as softly. He slides into the bed next to you and wraps you in his arms.

Of course he hopes you won’t regret what happened, but he’s more worried about how you’ll feel being at the gates of your home that hates you so much.

****

Shoto Todoroki tries to hold back any malice that would show on his face as the ceremony proceeds on. It would be fitting that the day of your funeral would be cloudy. It’s not lost on him that it took months to assemble this ceremony when it took days to assemble his almost marriage.

It also isn’t lost on him the reception is considered more of a celebration.

The king didn’t even shed a tear as your empty casket was paraded through the land. The people there were more happy to see some of the royals up close, giving fake condolences as they slipped in “you can marry me or adopt my child,” as they all walked through. He was included as the fiancé that was robbed of a wedding and an heir. There were even some cheers and signs of relief. Was there no one in this kingdom who saw all the good that you are? The amazing princess and person that you were and could be? He wanted to yell at them, freeze them, burn them, anything to get them to stop sullying your name even in death.

Have they no respect for the dead?

The parade continued up to the palace’s cathedral steps where the funeral would take place. The prince lets his emotions show by crying at your portrait; at least they captured your beauty in a kind manner. The bells ring and the organ plays loudly, letting the kingdom know the funeral is about to begin.

Your casket is adorned with what he assumes are you favorite flowers as well as the flowers of the castle. From the one night he had with you, he knows you would hate all of this. Shoto whispers to his brother, who happened to show up, “this is bullshit. She would hate all of this.”

Natsuo sighs and places a hand on his shoulder. “I agree with you. Your letters barely touched the surface of how this kingdom views their fallen princess. It’s blasphemous. And their king is no better.”

“You two,” King Enji hisses, “watch it. We don’t know who is listening.

“But I concur.”

The king, your stepfather, approaches the podium and motions for his subjects to sit. He takes a deep breath to feign sadness before the bells go off for a second time. Shoto sighs as he’s now thankful for the interruption. However when he looks forward, the king’s eyes are full of dread. Some of the townspeople are unsure of what the bells are for and whispers flourish throughout the cathedral. “Father,” Shoto asks, “what are those bells?”

The king answers with a drop in his voice and confidence.

“Pirates.”

****

Your heart beats out of your chest as the alarm bells of your kingdom blare loudly. The last time you heard those bells was the last time you saw your father. You breathe deeply to calm and steal your nerves. On your right, Aizawa grips your shoulder and gives you a nod of approval. To your left, Shinsou holds your hand tightly and squeezes it firmly. You turn your head to Eraserhead and nod at him, standing along the beaches of your former home. Your eyes scan up the beachside cliff where atop sits the castle.

Pirate Queen Nemuri and Captain Yamada have already ascended into the kingdom, the screams of soldiers and citizens growing. They are to be the distraction as your faction enters the castle and ransacks it. No longer will you be resigned and be an observer of your own life. A sinister smile comes to your face as the future is yours for the taking, starting with your home. The pirate ship Yuuei crew follows you toward a secret entrance into the castle. Judging by the old maps, there was once a dungeon and you want to find it and see what secrets your stepfather had hidden. Covered in vines and moss, you use your new found weapon to slice away at the greenery that at one point was your escape to the waters below your room. The king then forbade you from using this way and you never knew why. You had assumed he hated you immensely as it was right after your mother had died.

The door squeaks open and a wave of dust and cobwebs hits your face, the rusting nails practically falling out of the hinges. Aizawa presses forward and takes a cautious step on the stone. He presses his foot into the material to assure its stability. Satisfied with his determination, he turns his head toward his crew proudly. He gives them a silent signal to tread behind him and they follow suit. However, Kaminari perks his ear and halts those behind him.

“Someone’s comin’,” he whispers.

The pounding of metal on gravel alerts you to two guards that have their swords drawn. They approach the group with fear and loathing as the pirates around you draw their own swords. With a stern pout, you pull out yours and step in between them. Shinsou attempts to stop you but Midoriya holds him back. The two guards slow their approach as their eyes widen in shock. “Y-your highness! We thought you dead, the kingdom is mourning you as we speak,” the first shakes out before kneeling in front of you. The second scoffs and pulls up his mate. “Ain’t no need to kneel to her,” he steps toward you with the tip of the sword about to graze your neck. Behind you Shinsou growls as he and the rest of the crew close in on the three of you. “This one has been declared dead by the castle. We never did like you.”

Your grip tightens on the sword as you try to control your breathing. “And why is that? Do you have no thoughts of your own?”

“Heh, the king didn’t like you. That’s good enough for me.”

The second guard lunges toward you aggressively with malice in his heart. You duck out of the way and avoid his attack as you come up behind him. With his guard lowered along with his head, the back of his neck is wide open as you start to dig the edge of your sword into his neck. The first guard drops his sword in surrender as a trickle of blood falls down the other’s back. The man underneath you grunts in frustration as you had bested him in quick combat. Your eyes narrow as the defeated guard drops his sword and stands up, your sword never leaving the nape of his neck. Aizawa steps forward and flashes an eerie smile of discontent.

With his hands on his hips, he snickers. “How’s it feel t’be bested by ya own princess? Yer gonna lead us inside the castle or she won’t hesitate t’kill ya.” You smirk behind the resistant guard as you walk towards the secret entrance. Sharp black eyes follow where the soldiers came from and hums to himself. “Aye, go back t’where they came from. Take Mind Jack with ya.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, knowing full well you need to be the one leading the charge inside. You grumble to yourself and withdraw your weapon, only for it to be replaced by Bakugou’s own cutlass. “Get ta steppin’,” he chews out. You know better than to talk back to your captain so you turn your head and retrace the steps left in the gravel and sand from the guards. Shinsou trails behind you, giving you enough space to process and follow the footsteps. With the crew, the guard in opposition out front to lead them and whispers under his breath.

“No surprise you turned out to be a pirate, just like your father.”

****

You and Shinsou tread carefully along the sand to not disturb the trail. The silence is heavy as you think about what you’re going to find. For as long as you’ve lived at the castle, there were still parts you never explored. And whatever had your stepfather guarding this area this way means there’s something for you to find. Shinsou follows your lead and places a hand on your shoulder. The two of you stop as you see another hidden cavern with signs and smells of knights standing for long periods of time. If you hadn’t been surrounded by pirates for weeks and weeks, the smell of feces and urine would have made you vomit.

Hidden away is another door, similar to the secret entrance of the castle. You look back down to the map in your hands and realize this location isn’t on there. Your eyebrows furrow closely. “What is it?” Shinsou calmly asks. You turn your head to meet his serious expression, rolling up the map with a sigh.

“This entrance,” you start slowly, approaching the door. “Is not in my memories or any castle drawings. What is this?” With a confirmation nod from your, you assume, lover you turn the knob. The hinges squeak and another set of rotting stone leads upwards. You gulp and hold Shinsou’s hand as a new sense of anxiety overcomes you. What are you going to find at the end of the stairs? Your heart is beating a mile a minute when you reach another door. It looks to be in better shape and you keep a hand on the hilt of your sword as it opens. Your eyes are met with what looks like a dungeon. You relax your shoulders as confusion swells inside you. Beside you, Shinsou takes in his surroundings as he questions. “A dungeon?”

“I-I don’t understand. We’ve never had enemies,” you stammer. You look through the bars of the empty cells and see rotting wood, mold and moss, skeletal remains, and rusting metal. You step on gravel and twigs as your mind is a mess, until the sound of flesh against metal makes you yelp. Shinsou quickly rushes to your aid and pulls out his weapon, standing in front of you. The two of you see a hand on a faraway cell.

“The kingdom getting invaded by pirates again? Sheesh, it’s sure been a while.”

The voice is raspy, full of experience and loss. The two of you hesitantly head toward the farthest cell. The hand, covered in grime and calluses reaches out to you. Shinsou speaks up first. “Who are ya?” The man in the cell chuckles with a cough before pointing up and behind you. You turn and notice a set of keys. Without hesitation, you grab them and unlock the cell. It creaks open and the man inside falls to the ground. The chains that are attached to him shine in the light, and you unlock those too. There’s a ring of bruises around the prisoner's wrists and neck as he falls to the ground.

Hitoshi, still on guard, keeps his sword drawn and at the ready. The man in front of them seems to have matted and tangled hair that is entirely too familiar. It’s only when he lifts his head that you fall to the ground. A gasp escapes your lips as disbelief comes across your features. Your lip trembles as your mind goes to the picture Eraserhead had shown you. The man smiles as if his life has always been easy and foretold to him. He rubs at his wrists and sits on his knees in front of you. Shinsou lowers himself to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder. “It can’t be…” he whispers.

Although worn down by years of confinement, that unmistakable cloud like hair reminds you of your own. You blink furiously as realization dawns on you. Tears cascade freely down your cheeks as you shake your head in shock. His soft blue eyes affirm everything your brain is trying to conjure. The man in front of you meets your eyes and gives you a warm and welcoming smile as he starts to cry.

“So,” Oboro chokes back, “m’daughter became a pirate afta all. ‘M so relieved.”

#pirate!shinsou #pirate!au #shinsou x reader #shinsou x fem!reader #shinso x fem!reader #princess!reader #shinsou hitoshi #shinso hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou hitoshi x fem!reader #bnha x fem!reader #mha x female reader #my writing #i did the thing #shinsou smut #bnha smut #mha smut #shinso smut

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sokkadora · 9 months

Text

vanishing grace — mizu x fem!spider!reader

summary: breaking into to fowler’s castle wasn’t as easy as you’d originally thought, neither was the idea of being able to come out unscathed.

a/n: girl help! i cannot stop drawing my spidersona with mizu!!! also i think this is the longest fic ive ever written for a oneshot 💀 also this is not proofread so if there are mistakes forgive me 😭

wc: 3.9k

warning(s): guns, gunshot wound, being stabbed, slight angst if you squint, FOWLERS HEADASS, mizu being sad

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

︿︿︿︿︿︿ ✎ᝰ . . . .

You followed silently behind Mizu as she carefully counted the paces to the far entrance to Fowler’s Castle, making sure to place your feet in the dents in the snow where her feet had stepped.

The silence surrounding you two since everything that happened at Madame Kaji’s was tense. You were upset with her. Of course you were. She let Akemi get taken back into captivity and Ringo had left because of her actions.

You could understand where she was coming from, in a way. You can’t save everyone. It’s a hard truth you’d learned in your years as Spider-Woman, but you can’t help but feel like you could’ve done something.

Right before your face could make contact with Mizu’s back, your steps abruptly stopped thanks to your sixth sense. She used her naginata to brush the snow off the covered grate in the ground.

Mizu silently handed you your mask after slicing it open, and you took it from her hand softly. Could she tell you were upset with her? And if she could, did she even care? You shook it off, tugging on your mask.

She dropped down into the tunnel, water splashing beneath her feet softly upon impact. She glanced around quickly before turning back to you, holding up her arms to help you down.

You let her, trying to get ahold of yourself as her hands gripped your waist and gently set you down before she closed the grate with her weapon.

The tunnel darkened significantly and Mizu made a sudden move to keep your hand in hers as you made your way further in. She eventually found a dry enough piece of wood, wrapping a cloth around the top, lighting the cloth on fire to make a torch.

There was loud squeaking coming from your feet, and the two of you looked down to find around 5 rats staring up at you. Mizu killed one, and the rest scattered.

The two of you continued until you came across dozens of skeletons, children’s skeletons, and that was the only other pause you took in the tunnels.

“Oh my god,” You whispered, placing a hand over your mouth at the sight of a woman’s skeleton with her arms wrapped around the child’s far smaller one. You gripped Mizu’s hand tighter as she seethed, dragging you down through the tunnels.

She stopped just before the two of you could run into a door, and let go of your hand. She tried opening it with no luck. Then she leaned her weapon against the doorframe to take off her pack. She handed you the torch, and you glanced around the tunnel nervously.

“What’s the plan, Mizu?” You asked, your hands beginning to shake. Was it fear? Adrenaline? You didn’t know. But every fiber of your body was screaming at you like this was a bad idea, and you couldn’t help but agree.

“Don’t really have one,” She shrugged, picking up her lock picking equipment and kneeling in front of the lock. Your heart pounded at her dry and casual admission that she didn’t have a plan to get through this death house, but you took a deep breath to compose yourself. It was already tense enough. “You’re kind of my secret weapon if everything goes to shit.”

“We should’ve talked about this on the way here,” You grumbled as the lock finally clicked. You took it as good news for a moment before the tunnels behind you began rumbling.

They burst full with water, and you pushed the torch back into her hands. You rushed to the door handle, and began to yank on it with all your strength. It was heavy. You could easily throw a shipping container, and this was hard and rusted for you to open.

It squeezed open a crack, but it was too late. Mizu and you were quickly knocked out as the rushing water slammed you both against the door harshly, and everything went black.

You recovered a bit quicker than Mizu did, but quickly swam back over to the door to continue your work while praying that you wouldn’t drown. It already felt as if your mask was waterboarding you, even though you chose that fabric that wouldn’t do that when you made it (if you got back home to your time, you were contacting the seller). You broke the lock after a brief moment of suffocation, pulling the door open and pushing Mizu through before following after her.

There was finally a place for you both to surface, right under a grate in what you guessed was a supply room. The both of you hacked water out your lungs, catching your breath.

You pushed the grate off, pulling yourself up with aching limbs before holding out your hand and pulling Mizu up with ease. The two of you panted for another minute before she turned to you, her usually cold, narrow eyes more round and almost puppy like.

“You okay?” She asked softly as you tugged off your mask and rung it out.

“Besides being practically waterboarded in this mask?” You coughed up some more water, and she patted your back. “Just peachy.”

She didn’t respond, opting to take off her roll and check what supplies she’d lost in the process of the water slammed into her. She’d lost a lot, still panting before she wiped the water off her face with the back of her hand. She rolled her pack back up and helped you to your feet.

Making your way up the floors of the castle proved to be more physically taxing than you’d originally expected. Although, Mizu could firmly admit now that she was jealous of your acrobatic skills after you flipped and dodged through the corridor after getting stabbed through the ankle at the last second.

Finally, the dust from that flower had worn off for you and you heard grunting coming from a cell farther back in the dungeon. You quickly made your way over with Mizu behind you, gasping at the sight of Taigen. He was beaten to a pulp, a heavily swollen eye, and skin pale. The most frail you’ve ever seen him.

You stayed on your feet to keep watch as Mizu kneeled down to check on him.

“Taigen.” She sighed in relief, a small smile on her face.

He grunts, bringing his hand up to brush against the wrapping on her neck. ��That's...” He groans, “That's my scarf.”

“Are you real?”She asks quietly, and he raises a brow to the best of his ability.

“I think so.”

You kneel on the other side of Taigen, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Can you walk?” Taigen grunts as you help him sit up.

“Might be slow.”He grumbles, allowing you to sling his arm around your shoulders and haul him up. He was far lighter than the last time you’d seen him after leaving him in the forest, and the hero part of you couldn’t help but worry.

“Better than you being dead,” You huffed, shaking your head at Mizu when she tried to help. She had to focus. You could handle taking care of Taigen.

You help him hobble out of the cell, turning left to follow Mizu further down the corridor to the next door and flight of stairs.

The large man that had sought Mizu out for Heiji Shindo was looming in before the door at the other end of the hall at the top of the stairs, and you could only sit with Taigen and watch as she fought the man. You webbed up Taigen’s wounds as some form of pressure as Mizu launched herself back after stabbed the explosive into the man’s neck.

She landed a few feet away from you before the explosive activated, killing the man and knocking all of you out.

When you came to, you were acutely aware of the fact you were slowly sliding off the remaining rubble hanging over the edge of where a wall once was.

Coughing, you propped yourself up on your elbow as Mizu began to stir awake and took in your new surroundings. A sharp pain on the left side of your torso hit you, and you hissed in pain before looking down to see a large scrape that managed to tear some of your suit.

You attention quickly turned to your right when a groan rang out, you turned your head to see Taigen slowly falling off the ledge.

Before you could lunge for him yourself, she grabbed his wrist and slid off with him, not having the strength to keep them both on the ground.

“Mizu!” You shouted, more than ready to dive off the side to catch both of them. When you peered over the ledge, you almost let out a sob from the relief at the sight of Mizu dangling from her sword that was stabbed into the side of the building, holding Taigen in her other hand before pulling him onto her back.

You rolled off the ledge, crawling down the wall to them as Mizu gained her footing and gripped onto the crevices in the stone and yanked her sword out.

“Give me your hand,” She seemed reluctant, not wanting to put more physical stress onto you. Your eyes seemed rounded, almost puppy like as you asked again. “Please, Mizu. I can carry the both of you.”

She reluctantly placed her tired hand into your own, surprised by your strength as you easily lifted both of them onto your back the same way Mizu had done to Taigen. You gingerly took her sword, biting the dull end to hold it in your mouth, almost snarling as you scaled up the side of the castle.

Mizu watched in admiration, and almost adoringly at how tenacious and adamant you were. You were easily scaling the building with two bodies dangling from your shoulders, and you were doing all of it just to help her. No one had ever been there for her the way you have (besides sword father), in just a few months as well.

You had found a small, wider ledge to pull yourself onto. You placed your elbow on the ledge and pulled yourself up, panting softly as you gazed in through the window. A small army of guards was grouped behind a door, waiting for the three of you, you guessed. Your spider sense rang in your ears and you grunted, turning your head back to Mizu.

“Hold on,” You grunted, shooting a hand out to spray a web to the top of the window. You yanked yourself up the web, internally thinking about how easily you did this back home. But you made it over the window just as a guard looked back, seeming to have heard you, but not seeing anything.

After finally reaching the room that Fowler resided in, the both of you watched from below a window as one of the lords stood in front of it. Mizu gingerly removed her sword from her mouth, raising her arm to throw it.

“After he starts to drop, throw Taigen in.” She rasped in your ear, and you nodded, not being able to stop the goosebumps that quickly covered your body from the warm breath on your neck.

It all happened quicker than you could really comprehend; Mizu stabbing the lord, throwing Taigen into the room, and launching her from your shoulders into the room. You followed after quickly, the sight of your spider-suit earning strange glares from the lords.

“Abijah Fowler!” Mizu shouted, holding her sword out and ready. “Where is he?” She wandered over to the table with you right behind her, gazing down at a sheet of paper with what seemed to be a war plan and a map of Edo.

Mizu quickly turned as one of the lords struck his sword at her, backing up into you to make sure you weren’t hit. When she struck back, the dull edge of her blade resting against the fat of his neck before lifting her leg up and kicking him back. He landed on the wooden floor with a harsh thud, making you wince.

The click of a gun cocking and the trigger being pulled registered in your head before she could notice it.

You launched yourself over the table at the much larger body; Fowler. Shooting a web on either side of him, you yanked yourself at him as he fired. You let out a shout as your foot made solid contact with his cheek, knocking him back as Mizu’s blade broke, the bullet tearing through her shoulder.

You scrambled onto your feet to sprint back to Mizu as Fowler lifted his head, rubbing his jaw with an unnerving smile.

“Now, what are you?”

Mizu whimpered as she held the shoulder where the bullet entered before looking at her broken blade mournfully. You quickly moved her hands, checking the other side of her shoulder to see if the bullet went through; you really didn’t want to dig one out of her. Thankfully it did, and you quickly webbed up the injury as Abijah stood, grabbed a brush to shove down the barrel of his gun.

“You see?” He states to Heiji, using his gun to push the man’s sword down as they watched you and Mizu. “No one murders so well as the British. It’s our number one export.”

Mizu growled at the man before lunging at him with her broken blade, but he quickly raises his gun and wacks her back, throwing her into the wall. Your breath hitched before you raised your eyes to face him, a rage bubbling in your stomach that hadn’t ever been before. It was new, and foreign, and dark.

But Mizu said you shouldn’t run from the dark.

“Look at you..” Abijah mocked, “No ones ever made it up half this far before.”

You let out a cry as you sprinted forward. He tried to pull the same move on you but you ducked under, kicking him square in the chest and sending him a few feet back. He kept his footing as he rose again, looking square into your eyes. Your nose scrunched under the mask.

“And you,” He squinted, watching as your shoulders rose and fell heavily with your pants. “I’ve never seen one like you…what are you?” He noticed the spider emblem on your suit and smiled in amusement. “Little spider?”

You remained silent before charging again as Mizu regained herself, and you were too caught up in your anger and attacking the man to notice his large hand coming up to grip your neck.

He dangled you off the ground, watching with a smile as you became more panic. It quickly stilled your movements, your hands beginning to shake as you clawed at his hand. His hand squeezed your throat tighter and you wheezed in his grip.

He wriggled a thumb under your mask and ripped it off, scoffing in amusement.

“Strong little thing, aren’t ya?” He commented, running his thumb over your jawline.

You spit in his face, mustering up the harshest glare you could must as his expression turned to anger.

“Fuck you,”

“Oh, darling,” He laughed, and before you could really process, his gun raised to your stomach and he shot you in the side.

Mizu watched in terror as you screamed. It was nightmarish. The most gut wrenching scream she’d ever heard, and she was sure it was just tattooed onto the inner most parts of her brain. She had been told of your past injuries when she helped you bind your chest, her hand gently running all your scars, but she never imagined that she’d be responsible for another one. Even if it wasn’t by her hands.

He tossed you over near Taigen like you were a rag doll, making your vision spotty as Mizu shouted again, but it barely registered in your head as a fight broke out and he began pummeling Mizu. Taigen had jumped in what you heard, and Fowler was beating him to a pulp above you.

Before you knew it, the three of you were soaring — no… falling, out of the window you’d arrived in, into the freezing water dozens of stories below.

——————

You felt warm.

Were you home?

No… the bedding beneath you was too stiff.

Groaning, you attempted to come to a sitting position before the familiar touch of a stub came to rest on your chest.

“Stay down,”

You opened your eyes softly, letting a smile rest on your lips at the sight of Ringo hovering above you with a wet rag. When he turned back to place the rag on your stomach, he noticed your smile, and returned it with a brighter one.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” You smiled up at him, wincing at the sharp pain as the ragged soaked the water through your wound. “Did you get the bullet out?”

“Mizu did,” He replied, his smile dropping at the topic of your mutual friend. Well, once mutual friend. “It was hard for her though. Almost made me feel bad.”

You raised an eyebrow before sighing, “Let’s not talk about that right now, ‘kay?” You raised a hand and pinched the bridge of your nose. Their beef was not yours, and while you did want them to talk it out and at least make up, you weren’t going to stick your nose where it didn’t belong. He nodded hesitantly, helping you sit up and tie on a haori over your chest bindings. “Where are we?” You asked, looking around the room.

“Master Eiji’s.”

“This is the place?” You glanced around more attentively now, after finding out you were in the house of the man that had taken Mizu under his wing. You had a weird urge to hug him, but you knew that was probably inappropriate. “Huh..”

“I made you medicine,” He interrupted your thoughts and handed you a warm bowl and rose to his feet. “I’ll be just outside. Call if you need me.”

You nodded, not bothering to watch him leave before digging in. You were starving. You probably ate it faster than you were supposed to, but it tasted good and helped you feel good. You crawled over to where the other dirty dishes were stacked, placing your bowl on top. You figured you’d ask Ringo to help wash them once you found Mizu.

It was nearing the middle of the day when you stepped outside, squinting at the sudden bright light before you began wandering into the forest. If she wasn’t at Eiji’s, she was probably doing something out there. You were surprised to see her stacking rocks atop each other from the edge of the clearing, but didn’t hesitate to keep approaching.

“What are you making?”

Mizu jumped at the sound of your voice, clearly too in the zone to notice that your footsteps were loud enough for her to hear for once. At the sight of you, she dropped the rock she gripped tightly in her hands in favor of running over to you and engulfing you in a hug.

You were stunned. Sure, skinship had become a common occurrence in your relationship with Mizu, but it’d never gotten to hugging. 'Figures. Only I’d have a situationship where we’ve kissed each other before hugging,’ You thought to yourself as you gripped onto the back of Mizu’s haori while she silently cried into your hair, holding the back of your head and shoulders like you could slip away at any second.

“Don’t ever do that again,” She scolded while pulling away, placing her hands on either side of your face. She squished your face, causing you to chuckle softly before looking up at her.

Her eyes were soft, round… she’d never looked at you this softly. At least, not while you were looking according to Taigen and Ringo. She almost looked like a kicked puppy from the amount of guilt in her eyes.

“I never should have brought you with,” She whispered, letting one hand fall to your shoulder while the other rested over the gunshot wound on your stomach with a featherlight touch. She was almost scared that she’d break you if she was any more rough. “Then you would’ve been safe with Ringo and…” She sighed shakily, dropping to her knees and resting her forehead against your navel.

Your breath hitched as her hands slid down your sides to grip the tops of your hips with shaky hands.

“and you wouldn’t have almost died because of me. You wouldn’t have another scar because of me.” She almost whimpered it out, hands gripping your hips tighter as she looked up at you. “I can’t lose you.”

Her stunning eyes held the words she couldn’t muster up the courage to say herself, and your cheeks heated up immensely before you kneeled with her, your hands coming to rest on her arms. As you gently caressed the taut muscles, you swallowed the lump in your throat as your hands came to rest on either side of her face.

“You won’t,” You whisper surely, thumbs coming up to catch her tears before they could trail down her cheeks. “I won’t let that happen, and neither will you. We’re too stubborn to die.” You smile, watching her mouth as she does the same. “And I’m too stubborn to let you push me away when I know you feel the same now.”

Mizu huffs out a soft laugh, “Was I that obvious?”

“Eh,” You shrugged, doing a so-so hand motion. “I heard it all the time from Ringo and the bozo, but never really believed it until now. Your eyes are very expressive.”

Mizu chuckles, but it’s cut off when you pull her lips down to yours. Her eyes widen before she lets herself melt into you and your sweet lips, a smile tugging on her lips as her hands grip your haori and pull her closer. You gasped at the sudden gentle yank, and she took her opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.

Reluctantly, after a few more moments you pulled away with a grin, running a thumb over her now swollen lower lip. Your attention turned behind you to what seemed to be a firepit.

“What are you making?”

Mizu turns her head to see where you’re looking before standing, helping you up to your feet again. Her hand doesn’t leave yours as she begins explaining, and you’re glad. You don’t want to let go of her.

She explains that she’s going to attempt to melt and reforge her sword, since sword father had no steel for her. You listen attentively, barely willing to let her go as she goes over to pick up the rock she dropped and place it in the right spot on the growing wall. She seems optimistic, in a sense as you cross your arms over your chest and watch her work.

“It’ll work,” She grumbles, mostly to herself, as if she’s trying to convince herself – to will it into existence, but there’s still doubt there. You catch it, frowning before taking a stone off the cart to help her. When you place it down, she looks up at you with a surprised expression.

“It’ll work,” You smile, “And I’ll be here to help with whatever you need.”

#mizu x reader #reader x mizu #mizu x you #you x mizu #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai imagines #blue eye samurai fanfiction #mizu blue eye samurai #zoe's works #my works

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askthe-iii-shipchildren · 14 days

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Something about ship kids for the ship kids on here in intriguing to me

I've thought about it as well but now I wanna draw like assets

Candelabra x Red will be Bunsen Burner

Idk about Torch x Medal (I need ideas help)

And Burrito x Radio could be like Egg Timer

Bonuses are

Candelabra x Burrito is Grill (with little wheels)

Torch x Vee is Lantern (like different stages of light sources)

And Red x Medal (random ik but it was mentioned once) can be like one of those science fair project volcanoes idk man

#ask the ii ship children #infinite talking #candelabra ship child #red ship child #torch ship child #medal ship child #burrito ship child #radio ship child #vee ship child #lit experiment #victory flame #cooking station #fancy feast #ghostly flame #dead flame #uhh red and medal don't have a ship name #a maybe for torch and medal is a flint and steel #or a lighter

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themotherofblood · 1 year

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CHAPTER 1| RIVER OF GOLD |

The Lady | T.L x READER |

series masterlist | main masterlist

~ and if I was a child, did matter? If you got to wash your hands. ~

“He scares me, just a little. Not a violent way I suppose but as if he knows everything about me, though he might if he paid for spies. I am to be his wife, never thought I’d lay with a Lannister and yet here I am. Father has forbade me from writing to Doran, he would be mad at me. Lannisters and us have had a bitter history, my sweet aunt lost at the cost of war but perhaps this would be my first taste of power. I would be his wife, I would hold the sword.”

Grey, the skies were grey in the Westerlands. Black adorned every noble lord and lady's bodies as they stood by the falls. Five children stood as they mourned the death of their mother, along with many other houses who had only come to pay respects; out of obligation. Only five young bodies knew the truth of what had happened.

"Our princess took a terrible fall." the Maesters and handmaidens said, a truth laced with an ugly lie.

Our mother killed herself

The silk that wrapped the former princess's body held the further truth, if one peaked in they would see her bashed left cheek from the impact, a little lower they would see her crushed collar bone and even lower they would see blackened bruises from the fall. They would also see scars, yellowing bruises and fingerprints all over her skin, the testament to the brutality she had to suffer at the hand of her lord husband.

She was gone, and a candle that all five children held in the storm; blew out with her. The oldest boy Jeagir stood with his arm around his sister, you. Her hands rested on the shoulders of her two younger sisters Ellia and Nyela and their Maester Crasden, that stood next to them with an asleep toddler in his arms; the youngest Loren.

While the younger girls wept silently, their older siblings silently boiled in rage. All four children were handed torches as they walked to the four corners of the pyre their mother laid on, a Dornish priest went on with words that were muffled in the noble children's ears. While some remembered the screams from that night, some could only hear the crackling fire in their hands. In unison they lit the four corners of their mother's final rest. She would be safer now, nobody would hurt her now.

Your mother had written to you six moons ago, "Fly back to me, child." She had written. Her Martell uncles had managed to get her on a ship within the next day of the letter's arrival. The ship flung the banner of House Martell and delights filled the cargo of the ship for their dear sister.

"Give her my love." Doran Martell had said as he kissed the top his niece's head, a girl he had raised as his own for the past twelve years.

The morning you arrived to Lannisport, your receiver and long friend Fredrick also brought the doomed message.

"Princess Elina took a terrible fall."

One look at your mother's dead body and the guilt in your mother's handmaiden's eyes, the horrified sullen eyes of your sisters and the rage in your brothers eyes. You knew.

Your mother killed herself.

Lannisport was controlled by the most powerful family in the Westerlands, the Lannisters. More specifically Tywin Lannister. That man knew everything that went on in his lands and surely a Dornish ship with Martell sails entering his harbour was to be brought to his attention. He had ridden out that day, as he did every other day to visit Lannistown and the port. Mostly to set his own eyes upon the visitors from Dorne, he had taken extra guards as a welcome party.

He watched from high ground as the ship docked itself, five boats emerged from the ship. One with a golden pavilion shade, harbouring most likely a person of noble decent. He wondered if the Martells finally had come for his head, but out emerged a young lady at best in a pink Dornish dress, you.

His brother Kevan had rode down to the ports to enquire about the arriving party before riding back to his brother. Tywin watched as a man stood with the banner of his sworn house Maerilys, he watched as the man greeted you dressed in pink, then he watched you speak and for a moment all the colour drained from your face. It seemed as though everyone around you had frozen too, then he watched as your hand came up to your forehead, your lips widen as all the men and women that came with you hung their head low. A message came for him too, a rider rode out from Casterly Rock with the message.

"Princess Elina Martell of House Maerilys has passed."

Kevan too returned from the ports.

"That's Lord Maerilys's eldest daughter."

Tywin had arrived to Deep Den after the funeral, he had known Princess Elina personally having been a close companion to his late lady wife Joanna, the woman wasn't much older than him but he knew wits when he saw it, though he never liked the man she married. Lord Loren Maerilys, clearly named after his ancestor but Tywin knew that man held no kingly qualities. The house provided a good chuck of the Lannister fleet and armies, siege weapons and other labour personnel to Casterly Rock.

Lord Maerilys was a cruel man, the Mad King had his own reasons but Maerilys was another kind of evil, he flaunted his affairs in his lady wife's face, he beat her and humiliated her. Princess Elina on the other hand suffered through it all, many never understood why, she was Dornish. If she had written about the true brutality of her husband to her brothers. They would have landed an army right at her front gates to take her home. She never did, she suffered it all.

When you were born to the household, Lord Maerilys was not pleased, had it not been for his advisors and Maesters, he would have thrown your babbling form into the sea to wash off your existence, to another father you may have been a delight, a gorgeous little girl. But to your father, you were weakness, you couldn't carry their house's name.

Maester Crasden protected you as alittle girl as best he could, keeping you for longer lessons or away from your father's sight most times. However she you fell in the trap of your father's violence, instead of staying in your bedchambers one night as your mother's muffled wails rang through the halls, you hid a dagger stolen from the armoury in your skirts and walked into your parents chambers. Your little hands were ineffective, the blade you wielded ended up giving you a bigger cut than her father and a swollen bruise to her cheek from a backhanded slap.

"You insolent cunt! I could have your head for this." He screamed like a mad man as the little girl's glare never left him. That night her mother wrote to her brothers for help for the first time. She urged them to take her daughter, to raise her as their own with her nieces and nephews.

"Protect my girl, do not let her flame die." She had written.

Tywin had strayed from his riding party for a while, he rarely got to breathe in the country and the serenity of its views. He wanted to tarry a bit, as his riding party prepped for his arrival. The Old Lion had taken a guard along with him, surely he was learned enough to know that he was safe no where. There was a faint rush of water from the great falls in the mountains by Deep Den, the birds sang their songs as the air in the forest remained thick and humid, and Tywin walked through it all like he owned the forests. He had taken a long deep breath, closing his eyes as his head lifted upwards, allowing himself to unravel for just a moment. Though his moment of peace was interrupted by the whoosh of an arrow that nearly missed him and lodged itself onto the tree trunk behind him.

His guard drew their swords, at alert as Tywin sat strong on his horse. All of them looking around to find the source of the attack, a rustle in the bushes and most of them were prepared to fight. Until from the bushes and vines emerged your figure dressed in commoner rags, out of breath and sharp as you looked around before your eyes widened at the men with their swords out. You hands instinctively held tighter on your bow as your chest heaved, looking at all three men skeptically; until the armour they wore gave their true identity away. Lannisters.

You dropped the bow, raising your hands in defence. Gulping at the glare, the lord had fixated on you. If you weren't mistaken, you stood in the presence of Tywin Lannister. Comely and stern looking man.

"Forgive me, my lord. I thought you were a deer," you looked at him apprehensively, as you prayed to the gods, that this man knew nothing of your identity.

"Clearly not," He nodded at his men to sheath their steel.

Tywin didn't trust the girl, and the only way he knew that he would make out of these woods without killing you, was to take you with him. You were clean, too clean for a commoner. Your posture and nimble fingers, too relaxed to be an assassin. You looked familiar and yet he couldn't quite put a name to the face.

"Who are you girl?" Tywin commanded, his eyes capturing every detail of the sweet maiden before him. The velvet of your dress pointed that you were no mere peasant girl, though your unruly hair and mud over your hands would unlikely make you of noble birth.

"I am a kitchen wench, from the Den my lord," you tried to hold his gaze to not seem as if you were lying through your teeth. The lord gave you a grunt of answer before turning his horse around.

"Come along then. No girl like you should be out here alone." He ordered but you stood your ground

"Forgive me my lord, strange men offering escort in the middle of the woods, not exactly reliable," you made your case "I can find my own way home." With that you ran, abandoning your weapon. You ran through the very well known forests as the Lannister guards wandered deeper into the forest with no avail.

You huffed in exhaustion as you returned home, sweaty and covered in dirt. What was to be a trip to clear your head turned out to be a rat chase. The maids all looked scared for their Lady, for surely if Lord Maerilys saw his daughter in this condition, not only would he have your head but also the gaurds that were supposed to be escorting you.

"You must change, before your father sees you my lady." A man called out, Fredrick Serrert. When you had left the shore he was merely a boy but when he came to receive you, he stood a man grown at nearly six foot three.

Down in the Deep Den's hall, Lord Maerilys. A stubbed, and disgruntled old man greeted their liege lord. Both lord exchanged words of formality before Tywin walked himself to the rear gardens, where a burnt out pyre of ashes remained, still gusts of simmering smoke emitted from it. There laid Princess Elina, he still remembered her face, how young him and his betrothed were when his father had brought him along to their wedding. An elaborate affair, the Dornish princess was set to marry the older Maerilys brother, yet tragedy struck Daven Maerilys and her "condition" (the birth of your brother) left her in choice but to wed the younger brother Loren Maerilys instead.

"They say you look for a wife, Lord Tywin." Lord Maerilys asked, the old lion just nodded in reply.

"I have three. The older one just returned from Dorne, and my two younger one's are yet to bleed but should be of cause my lord." Tywin's face scrunched up in disgust, though his face looked away from Loren, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Sure Tywin had imposed a marriage on his daughter, but sell out your daughters that young. Then out of the blue, it hit Tywin.

"Kitchen wench." He scoffed under his breath. He hadn't been outsmarted in a while but surely he was looking forward to meeting this Lady as he put a name to the familiar face. He remembered you from the docks

All the Maerilys kids poured out one by one. Olyvar came first, head held high and the spitting Dornish image of his mother, behind him trailed the two younger girls, Nyela and Ellia. They stood in a line as Tywin was introduced to them, he shook the oldest boy's hands and charmingly complimented the little girls on their hair. Then burst through the doors was another, your hurried feet found you standing next to your little sisters, with a toddler in your arms. You gracefully bowed.

"This is my eldest daughter." your father introduced you, every cursed word you could think of you used on yourself internally. You prayed that he would keep his mouth shut about earlier, and thank the gods he did.

"And who might this be?" Tywin gestured at the child wriggling in your arms, your sweet brother you had only seen painted palm prints off in your mother's correspondences

"Harolld Maerilys, my lord." you voice spoke up, a lot gentler then earlier, almost a whisper as you tried to not startle the child.

Tywin that night thought of the proposition Lord Maerilys put forth, there was something about this girl that just made you tick. Tywin wasn't a child that merely beauty would sway him, though you were quite a sight he had seen in a while, full lips, expressive eyes. There was something commanding about you, the way your eyes never left his, your head held high even admist all this sorrow. He saw a gain in this too, an alliance between Martells and Lannisters, you were important enough for them to send you home with Martell sails.

The next morning he made his wishes heard, he would court you for the week he was to reside at Deep Den, and leave with a bride by him.

You were having none of it, a screaming match broke out in the hall. As servants and soldiers turned a deaf ear to them yet again. You had nothing against this wedding but you refused to leave you little sisters behind at the hands of a monster.

"The girls will leave with me to Dorne!" You yelled over your father's voice

"You watch it girl, I could sell you and sisters for a lump sum and no one would bat an eye!" Your father threw back, menacingly nearing your proximity. However you weren't a child anymore, you stood your ground glaring up at your father. His hand shot forward, yanking your head up from the root of your hair making you yelp out in pain.

"Hurt me, go on. My uncles will cut your hands off if I tell them about this." your words were laced in venom and yet the truth. Doran Martell, was viciously protective over you and Oberyn, your sweet uncle Oberyn. You were his sunshine, though he may never see you more than just his little niece, your heart once yearned for more with your Uncle Oberyn. Many whispered at Sunspear that you had given your maidenhead to him and how you wished that were true.

"My lord." Maester Crasden's voice made Lord Maerilys push his angry daughter away, as tears threatened to roll down your face. You sat on the chair with your head on the table, rubbing the spot your father had held onto. Crasden came over, his fingers gently parting your hair to check for injury, you sweet lady would be fine.

"Marry him child." you scoffed at Crasden but he looked at you as if he wasn't finished, he sat down next to you.

"You would be the Lady of Casterly Rock, our liege lady," he cleared his throat before going on "you could order your sisters away to Dorne." His hand patted your cheek "You would hold power, I could not help your mother child. Let me help you."

The old maester's words had sunk deep within you as you began to ponder on the topic of your marriage and finally gave in, other than Tywin's cruelty on the battlefield and politics, there was no account of him ever imposing himself on women, you began to think of if you'd be safe and the only way to confirm your queries would be from the source itself.

You and Lord Tywin had found yourselves in your mothers gardens, you had called for him yourself and Tywin was curious to hear what you had to say.

"I realise how auspicious of a union this is, however I have questions and terms of my own before I agree to this." you kept your voice strong as you voiced yourr feelings on the matter.

"Go on then, my lady." Tywin walked past you to sit down.

"I truly hope that you know my disdain isn't toward you my lord, but merely a worry for my prospects." you stated as you sat down across from him, you didn't want to elaborate further, not wanting to slander your father in front of his liege lord.

"I am aware, my lady" Tywin's stress on the word made you look away. If your mother's troubles had been so known, how come none of these vast noble lords come to her aid.

"You needn't worry about me imposing myself on you" He suggested making you look at him, grateful and confused

"You would be well looked after and eventually sponsored for when the time came for your duties at Casterly Rock." He elaborated further.

"I knew your mother, I have a debt that still needs to be paid." The mere mention of your mother made the your eyes gloss over.

"And I would be safe?" There was a gentle crack to your voice.

"You would be safe." He reassured you, the green of his eyes glinting against the sun.

So it was setttled, Lady Maerilys was to wed Lord Tywin Lannister, ravens flew from Deep Den to Castley Rock, The Red Keep and to Sunspear. The news of this alliance spread through both families, both his children and the Martells were furious at about the wedding but it was done. A small affair at the Great Hall, you wore your mother's ivory dress that was fit to your sizing, that morning your mind nearly changed again as you tried to make a break for the ports but was stopped by Olyvar. If not for yourself then you performed her duties to protect her sisters.

"Father."

"Smith."

"Warrior."

"Mother."

"Maiden."

"Crone."

"Stranger."

"I am hers and she is mine."

"I am his and he is mine."

"From this day until my last day."

A chaste kiss between the two sealed this union. You were now Lady Lannister of Castley Rock, and hell was to pay if anyone tried to hurt you.

next chapter

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bamsywrites · 1 year

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Guilt Part Two

Summary: Tyrion worries. You have a baby.

Ships: future Tyrion x Reader, past Tywin x Reader

Tags: depictions of child birth, babies, probably ooc, fluffy, a lil bit of angst. not my best writing.

Notes: it's been forever, I know, I apologize. This is just a short fluffy piece. Let me know if you'd like to see more from this story or if you'd like to read what reader and Tywins relationship was like (spoiler warning: it's complex as fuck and reader did kinda sorta like him a little bit despite what she says). Like I said in the first one, this story has been in my maladaptive daydreams for forever and I love getting the story down. As always I'm open to criticism as long as it's helpful and constructive.

Part 1

Tyrion paced.

He'd been pacing so long he swore there would be indents of his feet on the stone floor of the halls. Hours have passed, day turned to night and still he paced. The torches had long since burnt out, nothing but the moon and stars coming through windows illuminated the stone now. The night was silent besides the muffled sounds coming from the closed door that Tyrion continued to pace in front of. He desperately tried to hear what was going on behind those doors. But all he heard was muffled chaos.

Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Turn.

He strained his ears once again to hear. Muffled pained moans. The sound of cups and bowls being moved. People were talking, frantic, but he couldn't make out what was being said. Damned those walls, damned his painfully average hearing, damned it all.

Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Turn.

He'd tried to gather information where he could, a few handmaidens had left the room in the hours that he'd been there to fetch water or medicine or... whatever, he wasn't sure because they wouldn't answer his questions. Not so much as a nod or a head shake. Damn those women too, he thought.

Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. Turn.

You'd been in labor since early that morning, he'd been woken by the news that your baby was coming, and he'd been outside the door since. It shouldn't take this long? Should it? This was an area of women's anatomy that he has little experience with and it infuriated him. The not knowing, the sounds of your screams, the anxiety, the worry, the guilt.

Step. Step. Step - Stop.

"Agh! Fuck!" Tyrion yelled, throwing his flask full of wine at the wall as hard as he could. He watched it clatter to floor, wine splattering the floor and the wall.

He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to tune the world out, tried to focus on getting himself together and not allowing his thoughts to go too far. His fingers bitter themselves in his hair, his forehead pressed against his knees. Worry and guilt consumed all of him. You were the only person he had here, that babe was his brother. You were smart and kind and strong. You were good and all that came from you was good. Trysta, Nataria - they were good. The world couldn't lose you.

He couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you. He couldn't lose you.

There was a new sound from behind the closed door. A cry.

A baby cry.

Tyrion wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there, but his ass was numb as he stood and waited for word of how you were doing. How the baby was doing. Just a word.

A young handmaid emerged from the room, "She's doing well, m'lord. Tired but she's doing well." But her voice sounded almost pitiful, it worried him for a moment until he heard the sound of your tired voice from inside the room.

"Tell him to come in."

You sounded exhausted but he could hear the smile in your voice.

Thank the gods.

Tyrion had never felt such a wave of relief in his life as when he entered the room and saw you with your babe swaddled to your chest. Your face was pale and you were covered with sweat, your hair sticking to your face and skin slick. Your lips looked chapped but they smiled down at the bundle in your arms. His heart jumped at the sight of your smile. Even now, he thought you looked beautiful.

You were the first to speak, "A baby boy. I haven't thought of a name quite yet," you never took your eyes off the baby in your arms. "He is beautiful though, come look at him. He's perfect."

Tyrion approached and his breath hitched in his throat as he saw the baby asleep in your arms.

"A dwarf?"

His voice was quiet as he looked at the sleeping baby. He was shocked. The baby was his brother after all, it would make sense he supposed but he was more shocked at how you were looking at the baby. You had no disgust. No contempt. You had love radiating from your features as you looked at your son.

"I...I am sorry," he apologized- for what he did not know. He felt that's what he's supposed to do.

Your eyes shot up to him and your gaze turned stern.

"No, your self pity is not going to taint my son'" your voice was harsh and firm "There is nothing to be sorry for. He's perfect the way he is, just as are you, and I will not have you think there is something wrong with my son simply because you falsely believe there is something wrong with you," you turned your gaze to the bundle in your arms. "I would burn all of the Seven Kingdoms to the ground for him, just as I would my daughters. Oh, how I wish they could be here to meet him. "

Tyrion stood in awe for a moment. In that moment you were awe inspiring, with your body exhausted and covered in sweat, your eyes telling the story of how your body was spent of all energy but still bright and smiling at at your son. You were gentle, loving with your baby on your chest but the fire in your eyes never died. You managed to put him in his place while making him feel more worthy than he ever had.

"Come," your voice broke him out of his trance, "Hold him." You held the sleeping baby for him to hold.

"I have no where to sit, my lady." He feared that if he touched the babe, if he held him, that Tyrion would taint him or ruin him in some way.

"Nonsense," you moved motioning to the spot on your bed right next you. He must have shown his hesitance on his face because before he could object your voice cut him off.

"I just spent an entire day painfully and excruciatingly pushing this child out of my womb. I do not give a fuck about what is proper or improper."

"Yes, my lady." He couldn't stop the smile that stretched upon his face. He'd never heard you say such things but he suspected you were right.

The blankets rustled as Tyrion sat next to you and made himself comfortable. "Of all the reasons I've found myself in a beautiful woman's bed, I cannot say this has been one of them."

You smiled softly as you sat the sleeping babe in his arms.

"They're always so peaceful right after birth," you say softly. "Its the next day that's the hardest. Tonight he will sleep and I will rest and tomorrow he must come to terms that this world is colder than the one he was used to."

Tyrion looked down at the babe, his brother, and smiled softly. He had already tufts of Lannister hair on his head and he looked so peaceful. His fingers traced the babes face gently. "My father is rather good at making adorable babies I must say."

"I would like to think that it is me making the adorable babes and not Tywin."

"You? I was more so talking about me than the babe."

You laughed out loud, it was exhausted but it still made Tyrions heart skip a beat.

"Speaking of him, you must give this babe a name. You can't just refer to him as the babe or him for ever."

You sighed, your head falling to rest on his shoulder. "I do not think I have it in me to name him today."

Silence filled the room for a few minutes as the three of you sat there. Tyrion fully enjoying the weight of your head on his shoulder and sleeping babe in his lap. It wasn't until he noticed your breathing change that he realized you had fallen asleep. To know you felt safe enough, felt relaxed enough to sleep on him made his heart race.

"I will not let the harshness of this world take you from me." Tyrions voice was quiet and soft, he didn't know if he was speaking to you or your child or to both but he meant everyword.

#tyrion lannister x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones fanfiction #tywin lannister x reader #game of thrones imagine #tywin x reader #mobile post #mine

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freakartack · 3 months

Note

What is your least favourite misconception or fan interpretation of the WarioWare cast?

And/or do you have a favourite headcanon the community has made for the cast?

Oooohhhh we are really going for the hot hot takes today huh. Just handing me the baseball bat like that

Well I suppose it had to come to this. I've been dancing around this for far too long. It's time for

TOP 10 FREAKATTACK HARDASS MOMENTS

NOTE: please do not open this if me shitting on popular headcanons will ruin your day. I don't generally care what people do with their life do what you want forever

OK with that out of the way it's time to get narsty. Many of these will be ship-related so if that will make you mad or bored just a heads up

1. MONA AND WARIO ARE IN LOVE

OK i lied you can't do this one forever. ENOUGH!! She is in HIGH SCHOOL and if you think she has to secretly be an adult just because she has a job and drives a scooter then not only have you never been to high school but you also have not been paying attention during any of Kat and Ana's cutscenes. "High schoolers don't usually drive that much" 5-year-olds don't usually trek the mountains high and kill people with swords but they do. I get when people get frustrated that almost all the girl characters in warioware are marketable kids, because that does kind of suck, but you can't just ignore that to get shippy about it. Cmon. "Wario was dreaming about her in that 1 microgame break" yeah, and I thought that was weird. I choose to read it as a non-romantic moment (since, again, he's old enough to be her dad), and the fact is that nothing like that has happened since. Yeah mona might think he's a hunka hunka but she has every right to! Doesn't mean they have to get married

2. MIKE AND ORBULON ARE IN LOVE

This one will stir far more pots/torches/pitchforks/etc. but since we're bringing out the fine china i might as well go all out. Here's my reasoning: Orbulon is 2000 years old. Mike is like 2. I'm not saying this one is Problematic (mike is a robot that can file taxes after all) but moreso that it is unrealistic. Picture this: You are orbulon, with all of your weird hangups and whatnot. Your buddy that fixes your car all the time and plays Go with you just had a robot son. Would you fall in love with him? Probably not. On the other end of the coin, you're the robot son now. Your inventor/employer/cyborg dad keeps inviting this weird animal into your house to study it. I don't think he would fall in love with that either. "I would," you say, "i'm built different." And more power to you. I just don't think they are.

3. LUIGI AND DAISY ARE MONA'S PARENTS

FINALLY, a non-shippy one! Anyways, since Get it Together came out, a lot of people took one blurry picture on the wall and the shape of mona's house to mean that Mona's House is actually Luigi's Mansion and that Luigi and Daisy had a child together 16 years ago and promptly abandoned it to play tennis. I think it is obvious by now that I don't think that's true. Not only has Mona described her parents extensively (one of them is an artist that is obsessed with noses, the other is a supermodel that travels the world), but neither of them are anything like Luigi and Daisy. "But what if Luigi is secretly obsessed with noses and Daisy is secretly a supermodel," you say. Okay. Then I think that Luigi cheated on Daisy with Peach, and had Rosalina together, because Peach and Rosalina both have blond hair and Luigi had a telescope once. Don't play games with me, Matthew. I know what you are.

4. PYORO IS INNOCENT

He's not

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

OK now that all of that is out of the way, let's move on to the fun stuff. Top ten favorite things that people have said about warioware!!!

1. PENNY IS DR. CRYGOR'S CLONE

I first saw this thought expressed here, but I've seen many people continue the sentiment and I think it's beautiful. Penny Crygor is the good doctor's transgender lesbian clone whom we all love dearly.

2. ORBULON KNOWS WHAT WAS GOING ON WITH POLYBIUS BUT WON'T TELL ANYONE

Self-explanatory. Unfortunately the genius who thought of this one has since deactivated and the post is forever under an inaccessible read-more so this is the only evidence i have that it ever existed. You have to trust me on this one.

3. WARIO IS LIKE THEIR DAD

This isn't really a headcanon moreso a popular interpretation of the text but I do like to think that despite being a jackass he does genuinely care about all the weirdos he has racked up, including the many wayward children that have glommed onto him over the years. This is like every toxic "we're all a family here!" workplace, except that they actually are all a family here and it's toxic for unrelated reasons

#not art #THESE ARE THE WITNESS PROTECTION TAKES I WAS TALKING ABOUT

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animatedjen · 7 months

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Cal slipped.

Rock shattered under his foot and skittered down towards the treeline below. His knee and face took most of the impact, crimped handholds biting against his fingers. On his back, BD readjusted his grip with a whir of concern. Twice he’d told Cal this idea was stupid, both times after Cal fell into loose shale while approaching the wall. After that the droid hunkered down and kept his opinions to himself, if only to prevent throwing Cal off balance.

“It’s okay buddy,” Cal grunted the assurance as he looked for new footing. He tasted dirt and maybe blood, his arms were completely spent, and yet somehow it was the best Cal had felt in weeks. He shifted his hips lower and let his weight settle over his left foot, then inched his right up the wall to another toehold. Not great, but it should be enough.

He'd first found the crag while exploring with Mosey. “This path would take us all the way round Raider territory ‘cept for that bluff in the way,” she explained, steering her nekko away from the large outcropping. Cal remembered looking it over, instinctually tracing a line up through the various shapes and grooves in the basalt rock face. A project for another time, after they found Tanalorr.

Now halfway up the cliff, Cal can’t think about hidden planets or fallen friends or a looming Empire. All he can do is inch sideways and slot his hand into a nearby crevice, adjusting until the meat of his palm is wedged firmly into the gap. The next hand follows, then he finds his feet. Instinctually Cal matched his breath to each movement, a soft inhale followed by a deep hiss of an exhale. It’s a form of meditation that he’s never truly found while on the ground.

At the temple he climbed everything. The other younglings in his creche turned it into a game, pointing out interesting walls or columns that could potentially offer a challenge. Wynne once dared Cal to climb to the top of the Archive without touching the floor, and he made it over the railing and onto the second story bookshelves before a bewildered librarian sounded the alarm. His punishment was to dust those same bookshelves, which was wildly boring aside from the ever-present audience: Cal made sure every passing Jedi knew why an eight year old padawan had been assigned cleaning duty. Master Catrine called him a tree-goat and it became Cal’s nickname for the rest of the year.

Learning more of the Force only improved his physicality. Master Tapal had taken one look at his tiny human padawan, bouncing around the halls of the Albedo Brave, and immediately added aerobatics to the training regiment. “You won’t be able to overpower your opponent,” he would say while Cal learned to dash across walls and flip higher into the air. “Use your size and speed to maneuver through your surroundings, adapting to the environment and using it to your advantage.”

Years later, Cal scaled the hull of a half-scrapped Star Destroyer faster than anyone on his shift. The rusting, jagged pieces of metal were nothing like Venator-class training halls or the trees in the Temple meditation gardens. These ships were covered in tragedy, rotted by war and the incessant Bracca rain. He learned to climb with rigging gear, climb with too many pounds of scrapper kit, climb with gnawing emptiness in his stomach and torch burns across his knuckles. The Force was no longer an aid, only a dull, haunted reminder of his past. But years of training were etched too deep into his muscles to be completely forgotten, and the Guild valued those skills enough to employ a destitute liability of a child.

Above, two relters cut across the late afternoon sky, their shadows racing each other along the rockface. Cal tucked his knee against a well-placed indent and ground his foot into the wall until each side felt secure. The kneebar in place, he released his hands with a sigh, shaking out tension and letting the breeze wick away sweat. Guilt gnawed at Cal’s consciousness– he should be at the saloon with the others, helping pack supplies for their next trip through the abyss. The Raiders would likely be wiped out by the Empire anyway, and that’s a problem that no new climbing line can fix.

The Force hummed softly. Cal continued to the end of the fissure, finding another rest point just off to the side. He pressed a hand against a flat portion of the wall, testing its integrity.

“Ready BD?” he called. One beep later, a metal spike launched over Cal’s shoulder to his waiting hand. It would’ve been easier to rewire the entire Mantis than convince BD to swap out his stim canisters for pitons, but Cal didn’t want to risk losing any of his hardware mid-climb. He lined up the spike and let the Force gather around it, then with a Push drove it into the wall. The impact echoed across the treeline below with a satisfying boom.

That was the last piton, BD trilled as Cal added a carabiner. Leaning back, he checked the dangling rope below, tracing it through the previously embedded spikes. Everything’s holding. He checked in with his body. Everything’s hurting. Great. A stim would’ve been nice right about now.

The rope was threaded up and through the final anchor as Cal scouted the last section of the ascent: two sloping holds and a column that juts up over the top of the cliff. He moved his hands to each sloper, mantling up and to the side until there was enough space for his heel to meet his hand. Both hands shifted to the left sloper, and his other foot met them there. Slowly, achingly, he rotated upwards.

BD launched from Cal’s back with a whoop, his thruster carrying him just high enough to disappear over the cliff’s edge. Immediately the whirr of his scanner filled the quiet evening air. Cal laughed despite his weariness, reaching up to grab an edge on the column. Another reach, another foothold, and he had made it. Scrubby grass poked out from gaps in the basalt while thick clouds silhouetted the distant rock formations in pink and gold. In the valley between them lay Rambler’s Reach, just barely outlined in the sunset.

Everyone Cal loved was in that tiny speck of a settlement. Everyone else was gone. He sunk to the ground, keenly aware of each complaining muscle as he wiped the dust off his face. BD finished scanning and joined him at the ledge.

“What a view, huh BD,” Cal said quietly. Together they watched the rest of the sky fade to dusk.

–

One relter ride later, Cal was collecting leftover gear at the base of the cliff when nekkos trotted up from the ravine. Mosey emerged first, a lantern swinging from her pack. To Cal’s surprise, Merrin was following her.

“We thought that was you,” Merrin said, dropping from the nekko to greet BD. He immediately asked if she brought stims. “Toa and Zee set up a telescope on the roof of Pyloon’s. We wanted to see what was drilling into the mountains. Thankfully, just a Jedi.”

“Shoot, you really sent that.” Mosey was staring wide-eyed at the rock face, the rope carving a thin brown line to the top of the outcropping. “Incredible. I knew you were good in a fight Cal, but this is something else.”

“With the anchors in place, you should be able to add additional aid,” Cal said. “Make it as easy to climb as possible.” He imagined Turgle dangling from a rope ladder while somehow completely wrapped in another rope ladder. “With some help,” he added.

“This could be huge.” Mosey examined the approach, kicking shale and other loose rocks to form a potential new path. “What’s the backside look like?”

“Not sure, there wasn’t enough light by the time I got up there. But–” Cal glanced over to Merrin, weighing her expression. “We could probably get a rappel system set up, if we stayed on Koboh a little longer.”

Merrin tilted her head. “You said we should establish the Sanctuary as soon as possible,” she said. “Staying on Koboh would delay that.”

“That’s right." The gnawing guilt crept back to his mind, and immediately he wished he was back on the wall again, which only increased the guilt.

“But,” Merrin cut into his thoughts. “Our goal is to help those who need it. That includes the people here.” She looked up at the cliff, now a shadow against the emerging stars. “I think a new pathway away from Raiders and Empire could be very helpful, and would give Greez time to finish packing the saloon. He’s collected too many trinkets these last few years.”

The dust was back in Cal’s eyes again. “Would that work for you, Mosey?”

Mosey grinned. “Sure does. It might even be fun.”

#not my usual contribution to the fandom but wanted to try something different!#and any excuse to shove rock climbing into my creative hobbies because it's my other favorite hobby #star wars jedi survivor #jedi survivor #cal kestis #bd 1 #mosey cimmaron #merrin #nightsister merrin #jen writes jedi stuff

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