#[I SCREAM AS IM DRAGGED BACK INTO THE PIT

[phantasmatoucan]

SKEPTUNIST DOODLES :]

[deusfoundry]

popstar!reader x actor!sylus masterlist | lowkey based on this little drabble

a fan asks you a question during one of your surprise visits at the local theater of a small town as part of your movie's press tour.

"is sylus a good kisser?"

a grin makes its way to your lips, and you don't have to spare a glance to know that sylus is donning his signature smirk.

the squeals from the crowd grow louder.

he's great at more than just kissing is the thought that goes through your head, what would be your answer if you really wanted to respond in earnest. it'd be so funny, you think, so hilariously on brand with it's lewdness, something that will surely do numbers on social media.

but you remind yourself that you can't. not now. it isn't the time.

no one knows yet, and you've both done a damn good job at keeping your relationship a secret for the past three years to just have it all unravel under your need to crack a joke.

so you settle for the next best thing.

you lean back against your chair, allowing the fabric to support your entire weight as you cross one leg over the other. your movements are languid, lazy, elbow resting on the arm of the chair as you bring the microphone up to your lips.

"he's alright," you say with a hand casually carding through your hair. you want to come off as though you can't be bothered, entirely unmoved by the question. "could be better, though."

a lie.

sylus' lips have ruined you for anyone else.

his actions are always done with intention, and kissing you is no different. he takes his time with you, slow and deliberate movements that pour fuel down the flickering flame in the pits of your stomach. a palm flat against your lower back, traveling down the curve of your ass, the flesh of your thighs. little things done in the name of not just pulling whines and whimpers from your lips, but to remind you of his undying love and devotion.

he kisses you once he's satisfied with how the attention he's poured the rest of your body. and there's a way in which he captures your lips, heated and all-consuming, that makes you feel wanted.

desired.

not for the facade, the caricature you've made of yourself to entertain other people, but for you. the rawest, most true version of yourself that only a handful of people have access to.

sylus wants you. all of you, and he makes it clear with each slow drag of his lips against yours.

there's a slight tug on your lips that betrays your intentions as the fans go wild. they eagerly look to sylus for his response.

he turns in his seat. and this time, you take a second to meet his eyes. you find his pupils narrowed, covered in a layer of amusement that makes them shine under the dim lights of the movie theater.

"really, now? i seem to recall one of us refusing to break the kiss even after the director yelled cut," sylus leans far closer than what anyone would consider a professional distance. your breath catches, throat closing in as the tip of his nose nearly brushes against yours.

"and it certainly wasn't me."

you wonder, briefly, how the people in the crowd still had it in them to scream.

it's difficult to fight off the light shade of pink that tints your cheeks, but you manage, even gathering enough strength to shove him away with a hand on his chest.

"weren't you the one who had your hands practically glued to my face?" your scoff is accompanied by an eye roll.

sylus laughs, the sound low and deep. he decides to leave it at that. he gestures with a small wave of his hand for another question, and in an instant, arms shoot up from the crowd.

his hand falls to the chair's arm where it meets yours. you let a few seconds pass, allow yourself to relish in the contact of skin, part of his massive palm nearly covering the entirety of yours, before you pull back.

if anyone asks, it was just an accident.

a/n: so. im guessing i can speak for all of us when i say that absolutely no one expected me to pull this out of my ass.

[whatifitis]

♡ Silly Love Songs - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Lando is playing Tarkov during Christmas break and you're playing your silly little love songs. Lando defends your honor and

Author's Note: this is based off this request. IM SO SORRY ITS TAKEN SO LONG, IT WONT HAPPEN AGAIN

WC: 1511

CW: fluff, max being a little shit, lando being in love, overuse of song lyrics again

When your boyfriend had invited you to spend Christmas break with him and his family in London, you thought it would be filled with learning about their holiday traditions and going out to explore London and going to the Christmas market. So you did not expect to be sitting at Lando’s family home, sitting on his bed as he spends the night on Tarkov with Max, Bankai and some other people. 

You didn’t really mind as during the day, he spent time with you and his family. And his gaming sessions give you time to catch up on some reading. The scene is painted, Lando is at his desk playing Tarkov while you sit on his bed, bundled up with a book in your hands and your headphones playing your reading playlist. 

After about an hour, you start to get bored and decide to pick up your guitar off the floor and attempt to play a new song. You’d fallen in love with the song ‘we’re in love’ by boygenius so you wanted to learn it and play it for Lan sometime. 

Lan couldn’t hear shit with his headphones on and his mic sensitivity was low enough that you could barely hear your guitar and voice in the back. So you start strumming and softly singing. 

That’s how i know that we’re in love

“Am I playing music? Who’s singing right now? I can hear bits every so often.” Bankai asks through Lando’s headphones.

“Oh, I think that’s y/n. She’s playing a bit of guitar right now.”

At the mention of your name, you look up, “Oh shit, I didn’t think you guys would be able to hear me. Sorry. I’ll stop.” you say, moving to set your guitar next to the bed. 

“Tell her to keep playing. It makes beautiful sounds in my ears to make up for Max’s yelling.” Bankai says. 

You watch as Lando turns to look at you, “Bankai says that he wants you to keep playing cause he wants to listen to you and not Max’s incessant screaming. Also I really like when you sing. That song is one of our songs now by the way. Since you showed me it, it’s been a favorite and it’s always on repeat.”

…but you listened like it mattered

Max was quick to shout back “He did not say my screaming was incessant. So shut your mouth or I will shoot your leg.”

Lando goes back to playing the game and messing with Max when you start playing again. Through the mic, only small bits can be heard but it’s enough to know what song you’re playing. 

Max’s chat starts spamming things like ‘omg shes playing ‘we’re in love’, ‘omg that's the best love song ever’, ‘she’s so in love’

Max reads some of the messages out loud, “Oh, she’s singing her silly little love songs again. Chat, did you know sometimes she writes songs for Bob? You’d think that people would have had enough of silly little love songs.”

“Oi” Lando says as he shoots Max’s character's leg, “Call her songs ‘silly’ or ‘little’ one more time, I dare you.” 

I feel crazy in ways I never say

Will you still love me if it turns out I’m insane?

“Ya know, chat. Some people just want to fill the world with silly little love songs.”

Pew

“Mate, what the fuck…” Max says in a low voice as he drags his hands down his face in frustration. 

“Told ya. Don’t fuck with me. You can sniff my pits and tell me I stink, all you want. But I don’t stand for y/n slander.” Lando jokes (kinda). 

“Fine. Just try and bring back some of my stuff, please.” Max groans.

“No promises, Max. But I will try. Maybe do not trust Bob with that task.” Bankai tells Max. 

Lando laughs, “Yeah, don’t trust me right now. I will run in front of bullets with your stuff on me.”

The boys continue playing as you sit and serenade anyone listening. You and Lando are doing your own thing while still being near the other and it feels nice. The two of you spend time apart for a majority of the year and the times where you are together, are spent doing extravagant things like going on yachts and going to races and galas. While you do enjoy doing those things, especially with your love right by your side, you enjoy moments like this more. 

It’s plain and simple. Nothing more and nothing less. You’ve found that oftentimes, simplicity is hard to find because most people want all those heart racing, adrenaline filled moments. Sometimes people forget, or don’t know how to appreciate the quiet. The silent filled moments. 

By the time Lando finishes up playing Tarkov, you’re finishing up fine tuning your techniques for the song. You’re not really paying attention to him, fully locked in on getting the song right for him. So you don’t notice when Lando takes his headphones off and turns to watch you from his chair. 

Sing the song you wrote about me, never once checking the words

I hope that no one sings along, I hope that I’m not a regular

You rarely have time to practice music due to work so considering the conflicting schedules, Lando barely ever gets to hear you play and sing. So he’s grateful for this moment with you, in his room, just completely enamored by you. 

He’s so entranced that he doesn’t notice that his parents are standing in the doorway, holding each other as they watch the beautiful scene before them. They heard you playing so they wanted to sneak by and listen for a bit. 

The two of them watch the two of you. They’re grateful to have you in their lives. Since the first day Lando had spoken of you, he never stopped. And since he spoke of you so often, his parents got to know you before they’d even met you. And they’d grown to love you just based on Lando's words. 

If you rewrite your life, may I still play a part?

In the next one, will you find me?

Once Lando joined F1, they knew a lot of people would want to use him for their own benefit. A lot of people threw themselves at him just for one minute in the spotlight. They worried that it would be difficult for Lando to have the right people around him. But once they saw you, they knew that you were good. You were gonna be his person. Through the time you’ve been with Lando, there have been many challenges and ups and downs. Lando’s parents watched the two of you go from best friends to something more. 

They saw the look of love in yours and Lando’s eyes. It didn’t matter if one of you fell, cause the other would pick you back up. If one of you fell behind, the other would turn back. Cause to turn back is to love. 

And if you do, I’ll know it’s you

I can’t imagine you without the same smile in your eyes

There is something about you that I will always recognize

Lando’s parents went back to their own room as you finished up your strumming. You looked up and got startled when you’d seen Lando was just staring at you. 

“You scared me, Lan. Why are you staring like a freak?” you giggle.

“I wasn’t staring. I was simply watching my favorite show.”

“Show?���

“Yeah. I don’t really get to watch you in moments like that so I wanted to watch and try to mentally record it for later.”

You look at him with a confused look on your face but you shrug it off, “Whatever you say, freak.”

“Freak for you.” he says as he stands up and walks over to lay next to you on the bed. 

The two of you lie on your backs, Lando’s arm acting as a pillow for you as he holds you close. There’s a comfortable silence that both of you welcome with a warm embrace. It stays like that until Lando breaks it, “I think there’s something you should know.”

That sentence terrifies you cause what the fuck should you know? Did he cheat? Is he in debt from buying too many cars? Is he getting kicked out of Monaco? Is he leaving Mclaren? 

“What?” you ask hesitantly. 

“I’m in love with you.”

“Lando, what the fuck? You just gave me a heart attack. I swear to god.” you breathe out and cover your face with your hands. 

He’s laughing his ass off, “I’m sorry for scaring you, darling. But I just wanted you to know that I, I, I… I’m in love with youuu. I. I. I. I. I’m in love with youuu.”

There he is. The way to your heart… serenading you… 

You’re not gonna stop him. He helps you with the crossword every morning. 

“Yeah, I got it, I found it, I’ve just gotta keep it. Don’t fuck it, you MUPPET!”

[mimiii-3]

im OBSESSED with saboteur!! also off topic but pizza steve pfp a throwback i love it 😭. what if reader runs away and the gotham city sirens (ivy, harley, catwoman…) or like what if they get kidnapped and turned into a meta!! maybe like x-23 or jinx from arcane!! i also can’t help but imagine she’s like okay fuck yall and frees darling and they run off together LOL.

Yay, I’m glad! Yes, the pizza Steve pfp might be revealing my old age😬

…

Saboteur: Cherry Bomb

Yandere Platonic Batfam x GN Neglected Reader

Extra notes: criminal activity, jumping/physical assault, dangerous use of explosives, blood/gore/violence

…

What if batsib makes some new and dangerous friends…

🦇

You trudge through the trash-flooded streets of Gotham. Eyes peeled and waiting to find even a fraction of crime. You needed to vent. Every Gotham-mite knows the best way to relieve your pent up feelings is a good ol’ fashioned beat down.

Your aching heart befuddles your common sense and you drift through a series of dark alleyways. You fiddle with the combat knife tucked in the pocket of your hoodie.

A distant screech catches your attention. You jog towards the direction of the shrilly scream. As you round the corner, the violent scene unfolds before you.

A small woman, cowers against a dumpster as three armed men jeer and kick at her. Her tattered clothes are covered in blood, a result of their nail-covered baseball bats.

One of the men looks freakishly tall, maybe inhumanly tall. The other two have a strange green substance oozing out of their tear ducts.

You act on instinct and bark your demands, “Leave her alone you creeps!”

You pull out your knife and flick it dangerously between your fingers. A simple trick you had learned from the internet but it might be enough to scare the perps off.

Your trick and strong words fall flat and the three masked men turn to face you. The tallest one of the group grins. There’s something eerie about the way he looks at you. Like a supple piece of fruit, ripe for the taking.

You soon realize you’re in over your head as they stalk towards you. “Go, run!” You shout to the distressed woman. She takes one last look at you before high tailing it out of the alley.

You try to run back from the way you came but a pair of scarred arms warp around you. You kick at the assailant’s knee causing him to hiss angrily.

The tall one reaches out to grab your neck and you jam the knife into his wrist. The tall one seems unfazed by your attack and pulls the jagged knife from his arm. He turns the knife back on to you and drags it lightly across your jaw.

The knife pierces your skin and you can’t help but whimper in fear. Where was your family when you needed them?

Before you can fall into a pit of despair, a small red ball rolls past you and bumps against the dumpster. The two infected attackers lean closer to get a better look.

“Hey, I think it’s a-” The one man’s word are cut short as the blast from the small sphere tears his face off. The other man rolls in agony, having sustained horrific burns from the bomb.

While you survey the carnage before you, a ‘crack’ comes from the man behind you. The arms around your torso grow limp and his body slumps to the ground.

Too scared to turn around, you hold your breath and pray you aren’t next.

“Hiya, Suga’!”

…

Extra notes: yandere platonic Harley (and other birds of prey members) perhaps😌

Tag list:

@jjsmeowthie

[onlinedolly]

A BOXER AND AN ARTIST

(title subject to change)

au where vi is a boxer and reader is an artist with a boyfriend

no cws i don’t think? maybe a little violence but mostly fluff/build up!

an: as always if you are under 18 please do not interact with my content or my account! this is loosely proof read as i have covid and im dying so bare with me. this will be multiple parts i would like so yay!

chapter one: a fight

this wasn’t your scene.

the room was loud, crowded with drunk people, as your friend drug you up to the front to get a good spot. you aren’t really sure how you ended up here. a hasty discussion about how you need to get out more and now you were on a bad side of town with your friend promising you you’ll have a good time.

“c’mon just give it a shot,” she whines, pulling at your arm.

“fighting? i dunno, i’m kind of ready to go.” you speak meekly, leaning into her to get away from the drunk couple next to you.

“it’s not like anyone gets really hurt,” she rolls her eyes, pulling you forward so your front and center, “ain’t all this shit fake anyway?”

you shrug, not really knowing the answer, as you take a look around. you stood up high, overlooking a large circular pit that sat empty for now. you felt nervous, a pit in the back of your throat you couldn’t quite swallow down. you should be at home studying, working on a painting, anything. this wasn’t your scene, you didn’t go out, and certainly not to places like this. what would your boyfriend think?

the crowd begins cheering loudly, you cover your ears to shield yourself from their screams as you watch the fighters come out. on one end is a large man with tattoos covering a majority of his body. he was built and tall and the thought of whoever had to fight him made you shake nervously. you look to the other end a see a woman. a bit bewildered at the sight, you lean forward, placing your hands against the edge of the pit as you look at her. her hair was slick black with red tips, tattoos covering the expanse of her back, and all you could wonder is how in the world she was going to beat this guy?

“i don’t feel comfortable watching this,” you mumble to your friend, she’s buzzing at the sight, all adrenaline as she watches the scene unfold.

“i told you it’s fake.” she rolls her eyes, leaning into you.

“doesn’t look fake.” you mumble again, crossing your arms over your chest.

-

vi wasn’t nervous, never been the type to be that. she was all confidence and cocky as she stepped into the ring. she overlooked the man and smirked, the same man she’d beat up in prison. this would be a breeze.

vi had a lot of anger sitting deep inside her chest, she could feel it bubbling up as she thinks of cait as she thinks of powder. and she’s ready to fight. she looks around the crowd, like she always does, and she thinks maybe she’s subconsciously looking for cait or for her sister. she doesn’t spot them in the crowd as she scans it, a bunch of faces blur together as they scream and chant different names. of course they wouldn’t be here, she thought. why would they?

vi cracks her knuckles as she gives the crowd one more look over, and that’s when she notices *you.* you looked timid and scared and she wondered if this was a place for you at all. you were dressed in a pretty pink outfit, leaned against the pit with fear radiating from you as she furrowed her brows in confusion. she was used to seeing all kind of people here, but those people were usually tough, covered in tattoos and piercings and holding drinks in their hand that had no doubt already worked their way into their system. but you looked sober and doe eyed as you watched the scene unfold in front of you and she couldn’t help but think about how your friend more then likely dragged you here. this didn’t look like your scene, you were clean cut, looked like you came from the good side of town as she shook her head and laughed a bit.

the bell goes off as the crowd cheers and vi is immediately zoned in, she can feel your eyes on her as she approaches the large man in front of her.

-

oh my god.

she was going to fight this man.

you were shaking at this point, as your friend yanks on your arm in excitement, you watch the woman walk up towards the man cocky as ever. and you can’t even blink before she’s laying a blow against his cheek sending him fumbling back. you gasp at the sudden blow, cheers fill the air as you stumble around in the crowd. you watch as she punches again, and again, and again not even letting the guy come close to getting a blow in. but finally he does, and you grimace as you swear you hear cracking echo against the pit walls.

“i thought you said this was fake,” you gasp out in horror, watching the scene unfold before you.

“thought it was.” your friend shrugs, watching in excitement.

-

vi wasn’t one to back down after one hit, not when she was so close to winning, she lands a blow into the guys gut relishing in the way he stumbles back before falling. all of her anger, against cait, against powder, bubbles to the surface as she fights. each blow full of suppressed anger and pure aggression and she wonders for a second if you’re still watching. all doe eyed and scared, she didn’t know why she was thinking that as her arm is raised in the air, claiming another victory under her belt.

-

you stare in disbelief at the fact that she just *won.* blinking a couple times before your friend is pulling at your arm again, rambling on about being quick so you can meet the winner.

“i don’t wanna do that, i wanna leave.” you pull back, resisting her tugs. but you had learned a long time ago how you’re friend was good about getting her way, so you don’t put up too much resistance as you follow her with an eye roll.

she drags you until your running down stairs, a group of girls also in tow behind you, fangirling over the woman who won. the woman who’s name was vi. vi? you pondered, could that be short for something? vivian? violet?

you didn’t have much time to think on that as your friend leads you through a set of grimy double doors, the girls behind you pushing you through until you all gathered at a entryway leading into what you assumed was the pit.

“i don’t think this a good idea,” you whispered, pulling on your friends sleeve, “these people are scary.” you say low enough that the group of girls behind you can’t hear.

“oh live a little, yeah? at least stay here so i can see her walk out.” she wraps an arm around you, locking you in place and you just stay there, waiting. it took about ten minutes before you saw people emerge from the entry way.

a large man first, all scruffy and built with a beard and a name tag that read “vander.” then next was *her*, same slick black hair and tattoos only now paired with a busted nose and bandages around her chest soaked in blood you could only presume wasn’t hers. she smirked at the crowd, and you could see this probably wasn’t anything new, as she chatted with a couple of girls like she knew them.

“you’re new.” she startled you as she spoke, eyes trained on you, your height making it so she had to angle herself down, “both of you.”

she kept looking at you as she addressed both of you standing there, your friend (oblivious as always) begins rattling off her name and how great vi did at the fight, and all vi could do was stare at you. she looked at you in a way that made you nervous, you shifted your weight between your feet.

“and what’s your name, cupcake?” she speaks out, looking you up and down.

you answer back shyly, feeling intimidated under her gaze.

“that’s cute.” she speaks out, placing a hand on her hip as she ignores the other group of girls as they pine for attention. you weren’t really sure why she was so locked in on you, never letting her eyes advert once and she keeps that same shit eating smirk plastered across her face. “ain’t see you here before, cupcake.”

“i dragged her out!” your friend interjects, squeezing you tightly into her side with her arm wrapped around you. “gotta get this one outta the house or away from the boyfriend once in a while, yknow?”

“boyfriend?” vi quips her eyebrow at that, looking at expectantly.

this all felt too much, you could’ve spent your night how you preferred it — alone. maybe painting, or studying, or video calling your boyfriend. not here on the wrong side of town talking to a woman who could kill you if she really tried. you nod your head, shyly again.

“and where is he tonight?” she spoke cockily, leaning forward a bit and it really put your height difference in perspective as you had to lean back to keep eye contact with her.

“oh he’s out of the country, big fancy art school out east.” your friend answers for you, matter of factly. your friend was more interested in talk to vi, so why couldn’t she redirect her attention to her? away from you? this all felt suffocating.

“art school, huh?” she laughed at that, and you didn’t know whether or not to feel offended. “how bout you? you an artist?”

“yeah.” you spoke out softly.

“interesting. well, i gotta go. but i’ll see you around cupcake, kay?” she leans up the ruffle your hair and you almost gasp at the contact, her hand is rough and the movement is hard as she messes your hair up. you can feel the women behind you seethe in jealously as vi walks away and you just remain there stunned at the conversation.

would you ever see her again? you really hoped you didn’t.

[the-s1lly-corner]

If you could indulge me, can I ask for something with The Amazing Digital Circus gang, with an s/o who is seen as an anchor for the others? They are strong willed, happy go lucky, supportive, a mediator and ect. Well, could they stumble upon their s/o just having an episode, just crying in frustration and like punching a wall to calm down and go back to acting like nothing happened?

I have a thing with strong willed characters hiding their weakness for the benefit of others.

TADC cast x emotional anchor!reader !

oh ho ho you silly lil fella, you have literally just described my TADC oc down to a T, i am going to have so much fun writing this because im literally just. going to use my oc as a place holder for the reader, just without describing any lore bits unique to them and their design ngl i think i went insane with this one, tally hall music is doing something to me

CAINE:

if you thought you were good at hiding your human despair just know that caine already knows. the only reason i feel he wouldnt initially come to you in your lesser moments of weakness is that he can acknowledge that youre trying to hide this part of you. does he go comfort you, and risk making you try harder to surpress your feelings; risking you to just blow up one day and have your mental state just totally collapse in one go? would you feel put off at the knowledge that in this world you never really have full privacy? that definitely wouldnt make you feel any better. but when it gets to the point where you're screaming and crying in your room and punching the walls he would step in. drags you away from the walls, and if he has to this man will restrain you if it means making sure you stop swinging. hes seen the downfall of many people within the circus, but seeing it from someone he so deeply cares for hits a different way. he may be an AI, but he can still simulate feeling. its a harrowing sensation as he lets you cling onto him. i think he makes an effort to make in house adventures less overwhelming and intense, too scared to push you over the edge but also too scared to leave you with nothing to do to distract you. i think he would stay with you for the night, too

POMNI:

as selfish as it sounds, pomni cant help but feel.. something in her chest. seeing you, the groups beacon of light falter fills her with some kind of fear and despair that she cant put into words. it reminds her that no one is above helplessness, and that at the end of the day youre just as capable of abstracting as everyone else. i think, when she finally sees your fake demeanor finally slip when you thought you were totally alone, she feels bad. i mean shes your partner, and she didnt pick up on any hints that may have indicated your true state of health. i dont think she would try to force you to speak, as much as i want to say that she would try to push for you to talk about how you feel i think her attempts to reach out to you would fall on deaf ears. i think she would put her hand on your shoulder, making you jump back to the present moment. its an awkward gesture, with the jester herself being a little lost with these new feelings... i think you two would just sit in silence

JAX:

similar to pomni, he feels this intense and unexplainable pang at the sight of the most hopeful and brightest person in the circus crumble. ive already said it but ill say it again, its like being splashed with cold water, with how hard that sinking cold feeling hits him. makes half hearted attempts to cheer you up. its not that he doesnt care, its that hes stuck in the shock of seeing the happiest person he knows flip into... this.. for a split second he thought you were abstracting, that pit his stomach becoming colder for a second before he realizes whats going on. ive said this before as well, but jax is not the best comforter, in fact i think he might be one of the worst out of the main cast. but i think so far for the characters ive written for this post, he makes an effort to try to pull you up out of your hole. at least he lets you cry your feelings out, and he wont make you feel bad for doing so

RAGATHA:

stands there in shock like pomni, before immediately rushing to your side and tugging you away from a coat stand you were kicking and beating. hands on your shoulders she tries to snap you back to the present moment, trying to tell you that shes here. any feelings of the helplessness that she shares with the previous two characters is shoved down. this isnt about her, its about you. runs her fingers through your hair, if your digital body has any, and just. rocks you. when you finally calm down enough to be able to form clear words, she reassures you once more that shes here for you. the two of you stay in that position, holding onto one another for the entire night. i think it should be said, but for most of these theyre going to try to keep a closer eye on you and make it a point to ask you how youre feeling. ragatha especially.

KINGER:

it reminds him of queenie. the sight brings back so so so many terrible memories. for a second he doesnt even register that hes standing in the present, standing in your doorway. stuck and frozen for a solid minute before you finally notice him, and you hold each others gaze. finally, you crumble. what was the point of hiding your mounting anguish now that it was discovered by the one you care for most? at the sight of your crumpled form i think kinger would snap back, and rush to your side. he's pause, afraid that you would abstract like the queen, before forcing himself to push through that fear in the back of his mind. a moment where he is not fumbling with himself or shaking; be it because he wants to be there for you or perhaps he still holds some guilt aimed towards himself for not being able to save his old queen, he refuses to leave your side even if you tell him to leave. theres this caution in his actions, mixed with this sort of determination to make sure you're okay. like ragatha, he would make it a point to make sure you're okay long after this incident

ZOOBLE:

zooble would probably be the only one who doesnt make their presence known to you while you're in that state. not because they wont care about you, in fact they care about you a lot. but theyre so unsure of what to do, that they give to you what they would have wanted for themselves, if they were in your shoes. they want to grant you privacy, and to at least keep a shred of the now ruined façade you had been putting on for everyone. if it means keeping it will give you comfort, then they wont take that away from you. they wait outside your door, waiting for the height of your episode to pass before cracking the door open. they dont say anything about what they had just heard, but you seem to know that they know.. i mean they came in so soon after you had calmed yourself down enough.

"are you okay?" a dumb question, but what else was there for them to say? you so obviously werent okay, and you likely werent for a long time. they offer to leave, to give you some time to pick yourself back up, but they also make it clear that they wont go anywhere if you dont want to be alone. the night is tense and awkward, filled with conversation before they eventually broach the topic... i think you guys would develop some sort of secret code. i mean youve been hiding your true feelings for so long, and outwardly saying you need help would compromise that mask you put up for yourself. be it a certain sentence or arrangement of objects, you two come up with a indirect way of asking for security

GANGLE:

she feels so helpless, the most out of everyone. she tries to get your attention, but her words fall on deaf ears, if they even manage to pry themselves out of her mouth. far too weak to pull you away and keep you from hurting yourself, but too soft spoken to bark out a word to draw your attention to her. truly, she feels useless. she isnt able to capture your attention until you finally notice her. similar to kingers part, you fall. she takes an unsure step towards you, hands half raised in front of her as she debates if you want to be touched or not. she settles to sitting in front of you, just barely holding eye contact... she looks down when you tear your eyes away from her. finally finding her voice, i think she would ask if you want her to stay, or if you need anything. she tries to word it the best she can, but she lets you know that she doesnt think any less of you for your outburst. it happens to the best of us, really it does. if you want her too, she wraps herself around you and tries to soothe your shaking form

[bellofthemeadow]

Dawn Ends the Night - Chapter 3

Aemond Targaryen x FemReader (Dayne)

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 4.7K

Warning: All warnings on the Series Masterlist, will update if necessary (Re-iterating, no minors allowed! Thank you)

Chapter Summary: The aftermath of the attack sees Prince Aemond wrestle with new feelings.

Notes: Hello everyone, I hope you are all enjoying this chaotic posting schedule just as much as I am!!! I am back with a new chapter, a little window into Aemond's very messy mind. That man is a softboy at heart, he just needs like 20 years of therapy. RN its the beginning of a slight "obsession" as our boy for the first is feeling... something that is not murder, or hatred, or the need to burn everything with Vhagar. So yeah.

Like always thank you to everyone who reblogged and commented I love interacting with y'all and I really hope that you enjoy this chapter 💜💜💜

Taglist: @duds31 , @snh96, @lol-im-done, @heavenly1927, @whimsywilde , @queen-123s-posts

Through your Eyes

In the silence of his bedchamber, Aemond's pulse raced like the chained dragons lagering in the dragon pit, its beat echoing from the cavern of his chest to the very tips of his fingers, awakening the primal blood-rage that slept within his Targaryen blood. The air around him trembled with his ragged breaths, each one a stormy gust tearing through the otherwise stillness of the room. Alone, he wrestled with his armor, the leather stained with the day's deadly encounter. He would need to get the leather treated so the blood wouldn’t leave its reddish mark, Aemond thought with annoyance.  His hands, though shaking with a fury he struggled to contain, methodically peeled away each layer, dismissing the need for a manservant's aid. This was his ritual of solitude, after a lost fight in the yard with Ser Criston, or an annoying dinner with Aegon, Aemond needed to take a moment to confront the tempest within, a moment to try and tame the dragon. 

“My thanks for saving us” your sweet words echoed in Aemond’s brain like the hymns his mother had once insisted he memorize, trapped in his mind – relentless in their grab for his undivided attention. Although he had just met you earlier (had it only been 3 hours?) each detail was etched into his memory with unnerving clarity —the putrid stench of Flea Bottom that now seemed to permeate his very being and clung all the way to his smallclothes, the satisfying melody of the guard's screams echoes loud as he replays  the moment he severed the man's hand from his foul body; an act of true dragon-justice.  

 Your eyes. 

Those eyes, captivating and raw, rimmed with red, their watery sheen reflecting a tumult of fury and fear. It was a look Aemond rarely witnessed in others, but they were a mirror to the emotions he often grappled with in his daily solitude. Staring into his own reflection, he was accustomed to seeing the same intensity in his sole eye, the other a remnant of his past, a void where fear once dwelled. Now, that fear was often overshadowed by a simmering fury, a relentless fire that had become his constant companion. Yet, in your gaze, he saw the fear and anger, a young bird still scared of an unknown, cruel world – but oh so angry and unwilling to get yourself drag down by its cruelty.  

Since coming back to the keep after he had settled the matter at the market, Aemond’s mind was inexorably drawn back to the market, to the moment he first laid eyes on you. He had not needed anyone to point you out; he knew who you were from the second he saw you, holding that little boy who was clinging onto you like the barnacles that littered the rocks in blackwater bay.  

Seeing you so small yet standing so tall in the shadow of the guard’s golden cloak, he had only seen the resolve and desire to protect; for Aemond, it was like a visceral pull that transcended mere sight that had drawn him to you, like he was being pulled with a thight string attached to his heart.And in the dirt of Flea Bottom, you had stood cloaked in a gown of gauzy lilac in a style of dress he had never seen at court. The sheerness of the sleeves and the plunge of the loose bodice defied the strict, colorless conventions of the court and in a way that would surely raise his mother's brow in disapproval. But Aemond did not care for what was proper, as when he freed the man’s body from its hand, he only longed to take you in his arms, to press the silky fabric of your gown, under which he knew luscious curves hid, between his fingertips.  

Aemond closed his eyes trying to imagine what you would feel like in his arms, he could almost feel it if he concentrated enough - were he a bold man, Aemond would have tugged on the fabric of your dress to bring you closer to him, to hold you tight. Not for unseemly reasons as you were still his betrothed, a lady of noble birth at that, and he was no Aegon. It was hard to admit it to himself, but all he wanted was to inhale the sweet citrusy scent he had caught when you had tied the purple scrap of silk to his bicep.  

Aemond unwound the fabric from his arm with a tenderness that echoed the way his mother handled her most precious emerald necklace, an heirloom passed down from his grandmother. She cherished it so deeply that she allowed only herself to touch or clean it, guarding it like a dragon hoarding its treasure. But to Aemond, this simple piece of purple cloth was infinitely more valuable than any gems or riches that lay in the royal vault; it was the only tangible thread linking him to you. Through this favor, you were his and he was yours, bonded through blood and silk. He hoped one day he could shower you in trinkets; ruby-red necklaces, perhaps paired with a green samite gown, or freshwater pearls jewelery ; he had heard that Riverrun made amazing hairnet with them  –Aemond could not help but smile at the thought of you outfitted with tokens from him, all would know that you belonged to him.  

Aemond let the fabric dance lightly between his fingertips and bringing the scarf closer, he tentatively pressed it against his nose, inhaling deeply. The fragrance was faint, a hint of your presence as if you had only briefly held the fabric in your grasp. Frustration flickered within him as he sought more of your scent, breathing in with an intensity born of deep longing and desire. Aemond was no stranger to yearning; his life was a testament to insatiable hunger - for recognition, for greatness, for respect, and for the Iron Throne. His brother, with his lecherous appetite and penchant for debauchery, and his older sister who is always entangled in a web of deceit with her brood of Strong bastards, were both underserving of what should have been rightfully Aemond.  

Yet, as he held the fabric close to his face, Aemond felt his greed transform from ugly and covetous to an all-encompassing desire to protect and care. He yearned not for accolades or crowns, but for the intimacy of your existence in his arms. Indeed, Aemond was a greedy man, and at that moment, he longed to truly have you, to have your scent permeate his skin. The mere thought of burying his face in your hair, drawing in the essence of your being, became a need that tugged at his very core. He almost scoffed at his thoughts, to think that the dragonrider of Vhagar would be reduced to a puddle of quivering emotions! If, when his mother first informed him of his betrothal, Aegon had told him that in barely a moon's turn he would desire nothing more than the simple pleasure of his betrothed's closeness, to breathe in the sweet aroma, he would have throttled his idiot brother. But you had ensnared him – a simple instant in your presence, a look from your beautiful eyes and he was yours. What a mess he was.  

Closing his eyes, Aemond did his best to recall the delicate touch of your hands as they had wrapped the fabric around his arm. The feeling of your delicate fingers resonated deep within him, intimate and gentle, unlike any he had ever experienced. The soft pressure of your fingers against his skin, the careful way you secured the scarf, it all felt like a silent promise, I shall care for you, my lord husbands. Words Aemond yearned to hear falling from your plush lips.  

Under the tender scrutiny of your eyes, Aemond felt a man transformed; Gone was the bitter sting of being known as 'Aemond the Dragonless' or 'Aemond-who-sends-the-maids-crying.' Instead, he felt seen as who he should have been, had fate not cruelly snatched away his eye – a true dragon prince, deserving of admiration and respect. Deserving of a crown, even if his weak father refused to admit it.  

"Prince Aemond!" The call from Ser Criston echoed forcefully through the door, breaking the stillness of the chamber and brought Aemond from his musings. Huffing, Aemond groaned in displeasure, he could understand now why Aegon stopped his sword training - Ser Criston did have the worst of timing. Maybe if he held his breath, Ser Criston would go away. He waited a minute, but the pounding restarted; Of course, he would not go away, the knight was relentless.  

"Just a moment," Aemond replied tersely.  

"The Queen requests your presence immediately, my prince. The matter is urgent, so please make haste my prince" came Ser Criston's insistent voice from the other side. 

Aemond groaned before swiftly splashing cool water across his face, feeling it's refreshing touch against his skin and hastily pulling a tunic over his head, covering his bare chest. There would be time for a proper bath later in the evening, before dinner and the official presentation of his betrothed to court, he reasoned. 

His fingers then reached for the purple silk and carefully he tied it around his wrist, positioning it high enough to remain concealed beneath the folds of his jerkin. Though hidden from view, its presence was a secret comfort, a reminder that he did not dream you – that you existed, in flesh and blood.  

Aemond flung the door open, his movements brusque, revealing the stern figure of Ser Criston Cole. The knight looked annoyed; his lips downturned in displeasure. Without exchanging words, Aemond began striding towards his mother’s solar, the path so familiar that he required no guidance, least of all from his mother’s shadow. 

"The Queen is quite agitated, my prince," Ser Criston broke the silence, his voice echoing down the dimly lit corridor. "She has been informed of the incident at the market and is... less than pleased." 

Aemond's steps faltered, his fists clenching at his sides, he knew it was coming, he just had not imagined it would happen so soon, although it made sense as Alicent had many eyes and ears all over the city. Aemond looked at Ser Criston before rolling his eye, the knight had no doubt babbled the second he had reached his mother's vicinity. The thought of disappointing his mother tightly squeezed at his heart, with gritted teeth, Aemond let out a noncommittal grunt in a thinly veiled effort to maintain composure. Ser Criston, however, persisted. "In light of the current tensions at court, such a public display of violence was... ill-advised, to say the least. For a prince of the realm to act so rashly..." 

Stopping abruptly, the torchlight casting long shadows that danced on the walls, Aemond turned sharply, his eyes a stormy sea of frustration and barely contained rage. "And what would you have had me do, Ser Criston? Stand by while that animal threatened my betrothed with cold steel? Be grateful I let him leave with his life." 

Ser Criston's demeanor remained stoic, attempting to soothe the prince's anger. "These are indeed trying times, my prince. But your betrothed should not have found herself in such a predicament. A lady of her station venturing away from her escort raises questions about her discretion. Such behavior could bring unforeseen troubles to our doorstep..." 

Aemond's voice cut through the air, sharp as Valyrian steel. "I severed the hand that dared harm her. What do you think I would do to the tongues of those who dare tarnish her name?" 

Ser Criston's expression flickered, a brief moment of uncertainty crossing his face. "My prince, I did not mean to imply—" 

"I know exactly what you implied," Aemond interjected, his voice laced with a cold venom. He unconsciously reached to his right arm where he knew your favor was hidden, touching it to bring your bravery to his words. "Remember your place, Ser Criston. As much as you are a valued member of this household and as much as I have always considered you to be a great mentor, I will not tolerate any slight against my betrothed. Is that clear?" 

"Yes, my prince," Ser Criston conceded, the strain in his voice evident. "I shall be more mindful." 

With a curt nod, Aemond turned away and, as he moved through the corridors, passing servants and knights alike, he noticed their efforts to avoid meeting his gaze. It was a dance he had grown accustomed to, yet today, it felt more pronounced as it made the hole beneath the eye-patch throbbed. Trying to keep the pain at bay, he imagined you at his side holding his hand and giving a sweet reassuring smile. It seemed to help somewhat as the pain started subsiding, leaving in its wake only the feeling of emptiness. It would do for now.  

 Reaching the door to the Queen's solar, Aemond paused, collecting his thoughts. He had hoped that by now, his usual icy composure would have resettled over him like a familiar cloak, that the fiery dragon within would have been tamed and subdued. Yet, beneath his skin, a prickling heat lingered, a reminder of the inferno that had coursed through his veins earlier. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself for the encounter ahead. The comforting memory of your grateful eyes had to be set aside, replaced with the bracing reality of his mother's scrutiny. 

Aemond gently rapped on the door and after a brief pause, one of his mother's handmaidens opened the door, allowing him and Ser Criston to enter the room. Inside, Queen Alicent, adorned in a dress of her usual striking green, paced before a large window. Her anxiety was palpable, evidenced by the way she gnawed at her cuticles, some of which were surrounded by tiny specks of blood where she had bitten too deeply.  

Aemond felt a pang of shame tighten in his gut. He was rather unaccustomed to being the source of his mother's disappointment. Throughout his life, she had always shown him a particular kind of attention, especially during his more vulnerable, bullied childhood years when he did not have a dragon to stop people (Aegon) from mocking him. Displeasing Queen Alicent was not something he took lightly. His gaze swept across the room, and Aemond noticed the unusual absence of Otto Hightower, which was odd as the man always had a way to immerse himself in every family discussion. 

Aemond's thoughts were shattered by the sharp rebuke of his mother. "Aemond, for the love of the Seven, what possessed you?" Queen Alicent's voice might have sounded stern and strict to the uneased ear, but Aemond could hear a pinch of desperation. "To attack and dismember a gold cloak in full view of the public. Do you realize the talk this will incite!?" Her eyes, usually so full of maternal warmth reserved for him, now bore into him with a sternness that made him inwardly flinch. 

The smoldering embers of Aemond's anger flared up once more, and he met his mother's gaze with his own steely look – the one that made grown man shudder. "Mother, that man was a disgrace to his cloak. He was assaulting the woman who is to be my wife, threatening her life. He was a beast, unworthy of his position and of the gold on his back. By intervening, I not only did what was necessary to protect my intended, but I restored the name of the King in the eyes of the people of King’s Landing. I will not apologize for my actions as I was under the impression that Lady Dayne, being betrothed to a prince, would be under the protection of our house. It seems I was mistaken. Perhaps I should have allowed her to be stripped naked and beaten for all of Flea bottom to see, would this have been more appropriate?!" 

Queen Alicent, her fingers once again finding their way to her mouth, bit her nails nervously. With a weary sigh, she approached Aemond, her hands reaching out to gently grasp his arms. "Aemond, you misunderstand my concern," she began, her voice tinged with fatigue. "Your actions in defending your betrothed were commendable, but the manner in which you executed them... it is the brutality of it that troubles me. Such a display of violence and cruelty, it's not befitting a prince of your stature." 

Aemond's response came with a touch of bitterness, "Mother, the people of King’s Landing have always viewed me as a monster. What I did today is likely mild in comparison to what they all believe me capable of. And frankly, the man got off lightly. Had it been solely up to me, I would have fed him to Vhagar without a second thought." 

Queen Alicent's sigh was heavy. "Aemond, please," she implored. "I understand your urge to protect your future wife, but you have not even properly met her, your reaction was..." 

"You understand nothing," Aemond interjected sharply, his voice rising with indignation. "My name is Aemond Targaryen! NOT Aemond Hightower and I will uphold the words of my house, 'Fire and Blood,' in dealing with any who threaten us. And that includes Lady Dayne, from the moment Ggrandfather arranged for our betrothal. " 

Alicent's expression turned grave, her gaze unyielding "Is that truly your desire, Aemond? To be remembered as another Maegor the Cruel? To walk the same dark path as your uncle, the rogue that all the nobility of the realm scorns? What legacy do you wish to leave – Aemond the Monstrous? Aemond the Brutal?" 

Aemond winced upon his mother's words – Aemond the monstruous? A bitter retort escaped his lips, "Perhaps I do want that. Perhaps if they called me 'Aemond the Cruel' openly as they all think it, my dear older sister would reconsider herself, parading her bastards as if they were legitimate heirs, worthy of the throne." 

Queen Alicent took a deep, steadying breath, her eyes closing momentarily in a silent plea for patience. She released Aemond's arms, turning away from him, her posture one of weary resignation. "I only wish that you would remember the lessons of mercy taught by the Mother," she said softly. "I understand your anger, Aemond, but you must see that there are alternatives to your actions. Violence, war, death – these are not the sole answers to all our difficulties." 

Aemond felt sour upon his mother’s words, had she always been so blind? "And what would be the 'appropriate' answer, mother, when Rhaenyra learns of your plans with Grandfather? When she discovers your intention to crown Aegon over her?" 

"Aemond, please," Alicent implored, but he pressed on relentlessly. 

"Do you truly believe she will simply just accept it? Do you not see that war and violence are already at our doorstep? Is this not why you arranged my marriage to Lady Dayne – to secure Dorne's support when conflict inevitably breaks out? Consider how our position would weaken if I had allowed the first Dornish lady on our soil since the conquest to be abused on the streets of King's Landing. Prince Quoren might have renounced our alliance entirely. And then what, Mother? Whom would you have me marry? A distant Beesbury cousin? Perhaps some lesser Velaryon to challenge Lord Corlys? What would your grand strategy be, mother?" 

Alicent remained silent, her figure still and composed, even as the tension in the room thickened. Aemond felt like a snarling dragon, spewing fire at the calm and poised figure of his mother – but a dragon could burn down a tower if needed. From his vantage point in the corner, Ser Criston, who had been observing the exchange in silence, finally spoke up, his voice stern. "Prince or not, you will show the proper respect when addressing the Queen." 

Alicent's voice was calm, final. "It is alright, Ser Criston. My son is evidently still distressed from today's events. You may leave us, Aemond." She did not turn back to look at Aemond, her gaze fixed somewhere distant. 

"Mother," Aemond uttered, the anger was still there, but a deep feeling of regret was starting to tightnened in his troath – he had never spoken to his mother this. Had always revered her as the woman who had always loved him, would always love and cherish him, eyes or no eyes. The woman who had taken his side on Driftmark, who had been willing to draw blood for him. So why was he so angry? Because you know of another woman who would have taken your side on Driftmark now, a smooth voice whispered in his mind. He could imagine Lady Dayne, except instead of the little street urchin clinging to you, it was him – holding you as you were soothing him and urling insults to the Strong. Nevertheless, although Aemond knew he had won the argument, the victory was hollow and left a bitter taste in his mouth.  

As Aemond stormed out of his mother's solar, the door slammed shut with a force that was quite petulant and wholly unbefitting of his princely demeanor. The urge to visit Vhagar tugged at him; her presence, the soothing texture of her scales, and the smoldering depths of her yellow eyes often brought him solace in tumultuous times. Soaring through the skies on her back, he found unparalleled freedom, a sense of true self that grounded him amidst the chaos of court life. But today, his steps wavered, his usual path to where Vhagar rested, momentarily forgotten. 

A different impulse guided him instead, steering his course through the corridors of the castle. He caught sight of a maid, her steps quick and purposeful towards the kitchens. In a swift motion, Aemond reached out, his hand gently but firmly grasping her arm. His voice, though laced with the lingering storm of his recent encounter, carried a softer edge. "Tell me, where in the castle is the Dayne retinue lodging?" 

The maid, attempting to maintain her composure, did everything to avoid the intense gaze of his solitary eye, stuttered her reply. "In... the west wing, my prince," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. With a nod of acknowledgement, Aemond released her, his mind now set on a new destination. 

Navigating the labyrinth of corridors towards the West wing, Prince Aemond was in a whirlwind as each step he took was shadowed by uncertainty - would you be there in your quarters? And if so, would you welcome his presence? He wondered if the radiant spark that had lit your eyes earlier, the one that had captivated him so completely, would still shine when faced with him alone. Doubt nagged at him, whispering questions of whether you might prefer solitude over his company. He shook his head, none of it mattered; the second-guessing, the fear. He needed to see you, to lay eyes on you and ensure your well-being. These thoughts propelled him towards your quarters, and he felt more like a dragon than ever before, like a great beast tracking its prey before feasting – unrelenting, with a singular purpose. You.  

As Prince Aemond neared the West wing, he was met with a contingent of guards adorned with the Dayne sigil – a white fallen star against a field of lilac. A frown marred his features. Where had these men been when you needed them most? "I wish to see my betrothed." Aemond’s tone left no place for arguments. 

However, one of the guards, an older man with a graying beard and sharp brown eyes, appeared unmoved by Aemond's royal status and instead eyed the prince distrustfully. "The lady is currently resting after a taxing day... My prince" The last part was definitely added as an afterthought. 

Bastard, Aemond thought angrily, did he not know he was speaking to a prince? How dare this commoner (who had let harm come to you) come between him and his need to see you! Aemond's sneer was barely concealed. "I'm well aware of her trying day, as I was present," he retorted, trying to quell the anger that pulsed in his veins. "Is it a Dornish custom then, that betrothed couples cannot converse? Especially after one of the party saved the other. Quite a peculiar custom if you ask me." 

Another younger guard grumbled “Not as much as fucking your siblings...” If Aemond was not so consumed with thoughts of you, he would have had whipped this guard for the insolence.  

The older guard's expression soured further, his eyes narrowing. "Given today’s events, where one of your men assaulted our lady, you'll understand my prince,” definitely a sneer” “Our caution.”  

"And the man responsible has been dealt with," Aemond countered firmly, his gaze unwavering. 

The standoff continued for a tense moment before the older guard relented under Aemond's intense gaze. For once, Aemond was quite satisfied that his one eye could make even the fiercest of men grow uncomfortable, it helped to get his bidding done. The guard led the prince to a corner door and knocked briskly. "My lady, Prince Aemond is here to see you," he announced. 

The response came in the form of your familiar, melodious voice, which had haunted Aemond's thoughts throughout the day. "Come in!" you called out, and Aemond felt a mixture of relief and apprehension as he prepared to enter. 

Upon opening the room, Aemond was met with a scene quite unexpected. There you were, center stage in the spacious chamber, having exchanged your earlier attire for a strikingly different ensemble. You were adorned in a long, elegant purple tunic with short sleeves that left your arms gracefully exposed. Underneath, a pair of voluminous white breeches reached down to your calves, leaving the lower parts of your legs exposed. Aemond gulped loudly at the sight of you, he had never seen a young lady dressed in such a manner. Were all Dornish ladies such beautiful women, who scorned proper attire? Were all Dornish ladies so... enticing? No, Aemond thought decidedly, you must be one of a kind, a lone bright star in the otherwise dark skies of his life.  

Yet, it was the action before him that truly caught him off guard. You were in the midst of a tussle with the same young boy from earlier - Daven, was it? You were attempting to apply soap to his hair, a task he seemed to be resisting with all the vigor a 5-year-old boy could muster. On the large bed nearby, another boy of a similar age sat, munching on a bright red apple, his eyes wide with fascination as he observed the struggle. 

“My Lady... Am I... Bothering you? Aemond muttered, at a lost feeling like he might be intruding on such a strange, yet merry moment.”  

Your smile bloomed like a desert rose at dawn, eyes sparkling with the kind of joy that one might associate with discovering a long-lost treasure, or seeing a long-lost friend... Or lover. Gently, you shifted the still-pouting boy in your arms to face Aemond, calling to him with a warmth that melted the icy barriers around the prince's heart. "Look, Davos! Our brave prince who saved us earlier has come to see us!" The boy, Davos, offered a shy smile and a timid wave, his earlier resistance forgotten in the presence of his hero. 

Aemond felt an unfamiliar flush of warmth spread across his cheeks under your gaze, filled with gratitude and something deeper, something that seemed to stir the very core of his being. The usual fire that raged within him, driving his every ambition and desire, seemed to simmer down into a comforting warmth, a feeling he couldn't quite place but didn't wish to escape. 

His heart pounding a rapid rhythm, Aemond offered a slight bow. "Might I be of assistance, my Lady?" 

Your response came with an infectious beam. "Another pair of hands would be most welcome." 

Positioning himself to be of help, Aemond muttered, "Guide me to where I can be most useful, my Lady." 

With a soft and tender smile, you replied, "I believe, my prince, that you are perfect just where you are." 

Perfect right where he is?  

Aemond would never leave your side, nothing would ever tear from you and you from him. The Gods had always scorned him since his childhood, this was payment. His due. You were his and he was yours from this day until the end of his days.  

Next chapter

[anotherfcknschlattsimp]

baby brother!Charlie getting wood late at night and coming to wake you up for help because hes just so horny for you its pathetic and he doesnt know what else to do with himself

oh how i love you brother!Charlie

im french kissing your brain pookie <3

hey, ignore that it's mid-november, here's a halloween post

genderfucked reader, im indecisive

cw: somno, incest (WAHOO), dubcon but everyone's fine with everything, of course one of my first works back is part of the sibcon charlie au (as far as i know, created by @moistcl1tikal-ao3 )

he couldnt stop looking at you all night, your cute little whore-for-halloween costume hugging you just perfectly. but he had to save those thoughts and memories for later!

except later did not happen, he crashed as soon as he laid down on his bed after the parties and events you dragged him to so you could show off your cute, nerdy lil bro

so, naturally, he woke up about 2 hours later with the hardest boner of his life the month. all because he kept dreaming of getting to touch you under your booty shorts

poor boy was still too tired to wanna deal with it though! so he tried to go back to sleep, deal with it in the morning, but he couldnt get comfy or stop thinking about your head between his legs

plan a failed, time for plan b: choke the chicken

he tried so hard, looked up all his favorite pornos, his favorite pictures of you, a pair of stolen panties, he pulled out all the stops :/ and it just made him ache and throb more for you

so final plan, the riskiest plan, wake you up and beg on his goddamn knees that you aren't too grumpy

he knew you werent the nicest person ever when you got woken up, especially when somewhat hungover, so he tread with caution

even got a towel, pillow, snack, and bottle of water for you :(

busts out every petname in the book when he tries to shake you awake

"sissy.. sis? brother?? dearest sibling??? bubba???? 🤨 you alive motherfucker???" the shaking picked up speed and intensity, no longer worried about you being mad, just half convinced you passed away in your sleep

"geddafuqouddaherecharlee" you mutter, smacking him away but still rolling over for him to join you, thinking he had a nightmare or something

charlie slid into bed behind you, careful to not make any sudden moves, worried he'd say or do the wrong thing and ruin his chances of getting some tonight

he talked to you sweetly, gently, with purpose, he was making amazing points

"i dunno if i'm allowed to ask or if only you get to initiate but i'll do all your chores for a month if you help me out here..."

he waited

nothing happened

you were out COLD

so time for his impromptu new final plan: beg for forgiveness not permission. he tries to rationalize it! you've never rejected his advances before, you're insatiable, this is probably something your into! maybe just being in your bed and surrounded by the smell of you can help him get there

so he stole some lube from your bedside table

it was so absurdly cold that he of course made a very manly sound (screamed like a mouse would) and jumped a bit, enough to wake you up again

so you turn to charlie, terrified because what the fuck was your little brother possibly experiencing to shatter everyone's eardrums at 2:33am

and you catch him, cock in one hand, other hand covering his mouth to avoid making more noise, but you already caught him slick-handed. and if you weren't so exhausted you would absolutely jump his bones in an instant, but the hangover was already kicking in so while seeing your younger brother trying to jerk off to you in your own bed would usually light a bonfire in your gut, this was more like a backyard fire pit sized one

so, being the amazing older sibling you are, you chuckle and coo at him, inching your hand towards the one on his cock

"awww my poor baby brother cant get off without me?" you fake a pout as your hand finds its way to cupping his balls, massaging gently

"pleasepleaseplease, need you so bad, needed you-needed you all night" he begs and involuntarily bucks his hips into your hand, eyes glued shut and hands fisted in your sheets, overcome with pleasure

he doesn't see or i guess hear or feel you shifting to be closer to his dick, or he just doesn't acknowledge it

but he sure notices when you grab the base and flick your tongue over the tip

"you're too cute" is the last thing he hears before being overrun by pure ecstasy as he finally cums when you take him fully down your throat, thank yous pouring out of his pink, bitten lips

his hands fly to hold your head in place, you let him until you start gagging

he lets go and starts profusely apologizing and thanking you

"you can make it up to me if you want.." you say seductively as you lay on your back and spread your knees just enough to get the point across

@th3-circus @xoxoave @jschladderall @manticore-fangs

im not dead which is shocking to everyone im pretty sure.. anyway here ya go <3

[viennacherries]

First of all I love your work!! I keep rereading kiss the cook. I have a request God! Gale/Tav. A spicy fic about Tav and God Gale’s first time since he’s turned into a god.

anon. anon im so sorry. this turned into angst. please forgive me <3

NSFW

read it on ao3

~~~

Tav hasn't seen Gale since he left in search of the crown, promising to find her and bring her with him to Elysium. She'd believed him, but she thought he'd have come to her by now.

It's been 6 months. She's starting to lose faith.

She isn't completely convinced that he's going to come to the party. Withers insists he sent Gale an invite, but she's trying not to hold her breath. 'Trying' being the key-word here.

The truth is, she's desperate to see him again. She aches for him. He completes a part of her that she didn't even know was missing. He's soft and gentle with her in a way no one ever has been before, he's all light touches and tender caresses. He smells like old books and cinnamon, and he brings her more comfort than anything else could. She'll do anything for him. She just wants him back.

Withers is encouraging everyone to raise their glasses, finishing his toast, and her heart sinks at the realisation that Gale won't be turning up.

She wishes he would turn up.

Shadowheart is midway through saying something to her, clearly trying to take her mind off of him despite it being a fruitless cause, when a blinding beam of light flashes down from the sky.

It's like a bolt of lighting, the speed at which it descends, and there's a long pause where the light persists as if frozen in time, before it slowly fades away. Gale stands in its place and she runs to him, ecstatic, before her footfalls slow as she takes him in.

He did it. He found the crown. He became a God.

He looks so different. His whole body shimmers chrome, catching the light like an errant jewel in a necklace. His hair, once soft and flowing, seems sculpted to his head and body like a statue, every hint of his natural colour replaced with the same otherworldly silver as the rest of him. His eyes are glowing pits, no longer the soft warm brown she so loved looking into. They seem to create their own light, which wisps and curls around his eyebrows like ink through water. He looks glorious.

He looks new.

He spots her, smiles, and crosses the remaining distance. He stops a foot away.

"I had hoped I'd see you here." He says, and his voice. It's so different now. It echoes and reverberates as though he's stood in a vast cave, it screams of power and strength. It's his voice, still, but it doesn't sound like him anymore. There's something missing from behind his words that makes them feel slightly empty.

"I..." She feels shellshocked, "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me."

"Forget you? Never." His words make her heart sing, but his tone is all wrong. She knows he means it, but it just sounds so... lifeless.

He keeps talking, "I'm afraid time works quite differently in Elysium. I didn't realise how long I'd been gone, until I received Withers' summon."

All the time she spent, the months dragging on, missing and longing for him, had felt like mere moments to him. It makes her feel a little bitter, but she pushes the feeling down.

He's still talking. Something about 'the finer points of divine ascension' and how 'mortal comprehension' isn't enough to fully understand. He found the crown, he reforged it, he took control of it. The Karsite Weave has become the Galarian Weave. He commands it.

Tav swallows around the lump in her throat, "well, I'm ready to come with you."

His face twists into some sort of amusement, as if he finds her eagerness endearing. When he speaks, his tone is that of a teasing reprimand. "I see you won't be claiming the dominion of 'patience' in the heavens. All in good time, my love. For now, mortality has one more night of enjoyment in store..."

He takes her hand in his, and her skin tingles where they make contact, as though molten electricity courses through his veins. He leads her away from the party, and she hears the woops and catcalls of the rest of her friends as they fade away from view.

When he presses his lips to hers, it feels like static shock. When he runs his hands down her arms, it feels like the air right before lighting strikes. When he slowly undresses her, ready to worship her body as if she's the immortal being, not him, her skull tingles and her eyes water. It's so intense. He's barely even touched her and it's so, so intense.

He strips her slowly. Reverently. He has nothing but time. He has no need to rush, no need to worry. Everything is so different now. There's no hiding in tents trying to be private, there's no sneaking off in the night and tucking themselves back into their clothes before they get caught, there's no stolen kisses when everyone's looking away. He has eternity. They have eternity.

When she's laid on the ground, stripped bare for him, he lifts her legs over his shoulders and descends on her core with his mouth. He moves his lips like he's sending a prayer through her body, like she's the conduit to his devotion. His tongue ghosts over her nerves and she feels like a lighting rod the way his energy travels through her, as though seeking to ground itself through her fingertips as she digs them into the dirt.

And when he lays his body across hers, enters her with one smooth thrust, it's blinding pleasure. Every stroke he takes has lights blinking behind her eyes, every thrust like a jolt of power travelling up to her throat. When she finds her release it crackles through her like an exposed wire touching water, and when his follows shortly after her vision goes white with ecstasy at the feeling, as though his very essence is spreading through her marrow.

They lay together for a while, staring at the stars. He tells her of Elysium, of the endless ocean of constellations and the rivers of pure light. He speaks about his domain, how the Crown of Karus is kept safe at the centre of it, how he protects it with his immense newfound power. He waxes poetic about the shrines that have already been erected in his honour; several in Thay, and a grand temple under construction in Amn.

It dawns on her, all at once, that he hasn't asked how she's been.

She feels a pit open up in her stomach.

He tells her about the fathomless power at his disposal. He tells her about dragging the crown from the Chinonthar. He tells her about his disagreement with Mystra, when she learnt of his ascension, and his plans to challenge her further in time.

He doesn't ask about his mother. He doesn't ask about Tara. He doesn't ask about her.

It feels like she's ripping in half.

All too soon they're standing at the edge of the river.

"So, it's time for me to return to the heavens. The question is - do you wish to join me? To become a God at my side?"

Her stomach lurches.

She wants to. She wants to remain at his side, for all of eternity. She wants to go with him and build a home with him in the sky, a domain of magic of their own creation.

But she also wanted to create a home with him in Waterdeep. She wanted nights together curled up next to the fireplace, while he played piano with his magic and read arcane books to her. She wanted to sit on his balcony with him, watching the water, holding his hand in the evening breeze. She wanted the date night he promised, with his homemade hundur sauce. She wanted to meet his mother, have tea with her, call her 'mother-in-law'. She wanted to marry him.

And as she stands with him, as he is now, she takes him in. His eyes are luminous trenches, no longer a warm chocolate brown. His skin, once tanned and soft, is cold and silver. He doesn't smell of old books, or cinnamon; he smells like petrichor - like earth soaked in thunder and rain.

She stands with him, hand in hand. But he doesn't feel like home anymore. It feels like he's a million miles away. Like he's already gone back to the heavens.

"I can't"

When he leaves, she wishes she went with him. Then she wishes he'd stayed. Then she wishes he'd never found the crown.

She wishes he'd chosen her.

She sits, knees clutched to her chest, and she sobs.

A small ball of fur and feathers curls into her side. A tressym.

They mourn together.

[cinamun]

MAY I TAKE YOUR ORDER GOODBYE IM ABOUT TO SCREAM ANYWHO This lady about to get her ass BEAT AND DRAG BY HER HAIR TALKING RECKLESS TO HER LIIIIIKKKKKKEEEEEEEEEE SIS DON’T FUCKING WANT IT TRYING REAL HARD NOT TO KNOCK SIS OTHER HALF OF HER WIG THEN SHE FINNA BE WIGLESS LIIIIIKKKKEEEE SHE DON’T THEM PROBLEMS POOH 🤭😌✨💅🏾🗣️😭

You know what ANTHONYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY the main reason TFA is back is because of your reaction asks LMFAKFJDJFKDLSJKALJSK listen, I don't know who this lady is but idk fam.... this look right here????

she might be lookin like she got a lil pit pull in her too!!! All I know is, Dira matched that energy and ALWAYS wishes a bitch would so....

you know the drill homie! STAY TUNED!!

[kazuhahaa]

the moon as our witness

: wanderer/ scaramouche x reader

: i dont know how to tag this, maybe fluff? crack?? angst

hey this is my writing practice because i struggle with the flow of my writing, especially like pacing and stuff so it's pretty bad imo TT but it's practice so its allg ig. this is very experimental , and i feel a little outta my element because i lowkey am hella informal with the way i write and IM JUST REALLY NOT USED TO IT???? anyway thanks for reading and if u have any advice please drop them! ok anyway reblog to win ur 5050s love u

watching the scene lay out in front of you was the very embodiment of your doomsday, it was the nearest thing to an apocalypse you'd ever seen- to your world of course. it felt like you were spiraling, you felt so asphyxiated as you watched him press himself against that- that bitch as if you didn't even exist. and almost as if the world was solely out to get you tonight, cigarettes after sex just had to start playing. like seriously, was catching your boyfriend cheat on you not gutting enough as it is, you did not need a song to tell you when to 'cry'.

pushing through the sea of people transitioning from jumping up and down to swaying with their partners was absolutely suffocating. in any other circumstance, the crowd would've been just right- like the calm ocean after a storm. but at this very moment, it felt like you were drowning, being dragged into the abysmal nothing that was the deep blue sea.

with a slam of the door, you found yourself rescued by the crisp night air. barely making it a few steps, you crumble by the side of the road. it feels like tonight the tears stung even worse than usual, you can't scream, you can't wail, your throat is all clawed up and drowning feels like it's becoming a lot more literal than metaphorical at this moment.

through your tears, the faint echo of music can be heard, and a soft clink sounds beside you.

"i think you need this more than me." he says, you cant see him clearly through the tears that still continue to pour. you look down and there's a glass bottle of whatever everyone's been drinking tonight.

"i don't drink."

"you look like you should." he comments, you can only scoff at the remark. he takes a seat beside you, a bottle in hand. he hesitates a second, but you don't tell him to bug off. there's a soft silence that comes with his presence, neither of you talk- unless you consider crying to be talking. it feels so pathetic, you can't understand what you could've done to be tossed aside so easily. but the more you think about it, the harder it becomes to contain your emotions.

"ah fuck this." you mumble, reaching out to take a swig of liquid courage. you hiss as it leaves a burning sensation down your throat, flushing your tears away leaving behind a bitter taste. the boy, shifts his gaze toward you- his head resting on his knees, hair framing his face so nicely and it feels a little unfair how fucking pretty he is.

"so much for not drinking." he says, his face is blank but there's a teasing notion to his words and just the way he was looking at you. you let him stare, violet eyes burning into your skin you feel like it's going to leave an imprint. you look back at him, under the warm glow of the street lamp. as you share the gaze, there's a feeling of guilt that has been set aflame within the pits of your heart, after all you still hadn't broken up with that jackass.

you unconsciously continue to stare at the boy, pondering. should you just break up with him through text? should you storm in and scream? should you even make a scene? maybe ghost him?

"a penny for your thoughts?" he speaks up, words so gentle it makes your heart flutter and it feels like the guilt burns worse than the alcohol.

"do you want to help me break up with my cheating boyfriend?" you think out loud. you watch his eyebrows furrow, and for a second you wonder if you made him uncomfortable. he blinks at you, and then slightly shrugs.

"sure."

within seconds, the chilly breeze outside is replaced with the smell of sweat, cigs and alcohol. it's disgusting. the boy takes your hand and lets you guide him through the horde of horny and drunk people that were either passed out or making out. you are reminded of why you didn't frequent these parties. the floor is sticky and you just hope whatever it is you just stepped on was not human fluids. and then you see him, sprawled across the couch with the same girl sitting way too close to be considered 'just friends'. with a smile so smug, that made you glad god gave you patience and not strength.

"that's him?" noticing your hesitance to move forward, the boy follows your gaze. the tears are already threatening to spill yet again, anymore and you fear the headache that follows. and yet your feet don't move, all the courage that that brown bottle clearly gave you wasn't strong enough. you barely hear his words, it feels like your body is moving on it's own as you nod. you hear the boy sigh, his hands gently grab your wrist and pulls you behind his frame. you're not able to react before he speaks up, this time his voice is a lot more harsh.

"yo asshole." he shouts, his hand still gripping onto yours, though it is a lot tighter than before. it startles people around you, and just like all humans and their natural desire to fulfil their curiosity, heads turn toward your direction. you can't even process the next few seconds, as he grabs the bottle out of your hand and pours whatever was remaining of the now warm booze down all over the cunt that sat before you.

"maybe think twice before cheating dickwad" he can't contain his laughter as he looks your now ex, up and down, eyes full of judgement. you look horrified, looking between the boy and your ex, noticing the rage building up as he spits a variety of cuss words. you can't suppress your own laughter, albeit the fact that it's slightly laced with fear- fear that your new friend would get punch right in the nose. so your feet decide it's time to get the fuck out of here, and you pull him out the door running so fast your gym teacher wouldn't have believed it was you.

there's another wave of silence as the both of you were bent over trying to catch your breath, everything that happened tonight was unpredictable and didn't feel real. you took a peek at the boy, he seemed to have the same thought as you catch his gaze. the silence is finally broken as you start laughing, like a maniac you couldn't stop your giggles. you are glad that there is no one else around to see your fit of laughter. there is still that redness and puffiness of your eyes from earlier, its odd given how drastic the contrast is to your current state, its so big that even the black hole would have a difficult time sucking it in.

"after all this, i still don't know your name." you huff. his violet eyes are morphed into that of a crescent. and with the moon as your witness, he smiles.

"you can call me, scara."

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

The Flayed

pairing: steve harrington x female byers!reader

WC: 4.3K

warnings: cursing, panic attacks from byers/going off on everyone, blood/fighting. i think we good!

summary: the pits of hell.

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG - The Byers Harrington Story-

yall, steve and byers relationship is going through it, im sorry. also feel like my writing is inconsistent for these next few chapters (idk just me?)

@alecmores​ my lovely friend🌟

series masterlist / steve harrington

previous chapter  next chapter

You were sure your voice was gonna give out with the volume of your screams. The room that was now confirmed to be an elevator was moving at such a fast speed that you worried you’d hit the ceiling when it reached the bottom.

“Steve!” Calling for your boyfriend with tears flooding your eyes.

This is why you didn’t want to do this. Why you shouldn’t have gotten involved and just called the government. Now you have two children with you in a dangerous environment not knowing what was on the other side. Stupid fucking Russians had to ruin your night cause of their stupid system. 

“Shit! Shit!” “We’re going down! We’re going down!” Steve and Dustin shouted over the noise. And you're pretty sure you’re just sobbing through the screams at this point. Robin shouted to Steve, “Yeah, no shit, Harrington!”

Dustin was smashing his hands into the buttons, but nothing was helping. “Why don’t these buttons work?!” Erica ran to his side, the two of them pressing the same buttons and yelling at each other.

Your fingers were curled tight around a metal table as you hyperventilate. Everything and everyone was just making your panic worse and you feared passing out. The elevator hit the ground hard and everyone lost their foot, falling to the floor with boxes following. Your head hit the bottom of the table and you winced in pain.

You could hear Steve groan, “Oh! My groin. It fell on my groin.” Then he called for Dustin to move a box.

You heard shuffling and Robin asking if everyone was okay, but you could only hear your loud breathing and feel the fast beating of your heart. Palms hit the metal floor as you panted and silently cried, messy hair hiding your face in a curtain.

“(Y/n)? Hey, baby…” The voices sounded as if they were underwater. Garbled and unclear, barely able to understand it’s Steve just from the pet name. A hand falls to your back, trying to use repetitive motions as a way to calm you down.

“Baby, it’s Steve. Dustin, Erica, and Robin are with us. Everyone is okay. We’re safe.” He spoke low and close to your ear.

“We don’t know if-“ “Shut it, Henderson!”

Your hearing got clearer and your breathing slowly evened out, body slightly shook as you managed to push yourself off the floor and shrug Steve’s hands away. Fingernails curled into your palm as you glared at Steve. His eyes were droopy and sad, arms limp at his side, but you needed to get this out.

“We are not safe, Steve. Not even close. We are in a Russian elevator that no one besides us knows about, so they wouldn’t know where to look. We have two underage children in our care to keep safe, which, they or we shouldn’t even be here in the first place! I have said, we should just take this to the authorities! That’s their job! We work in a fucking ice cream shop making five bucks an hour! But you and Dustin, along with Robin, wanted to be nosy American heroes, and Erica just took this as a reason to get free ice cream.” Arms flailing and voice cracking. “I should be home watching Jeopardy on the couch with you or Will. I haven’t heard from Jonathan or my mom all day, who knows if Will's home alone when he shouldn’t be since the last time that happened, he got sucked into the fucking Upside Down!”

You pound your fist into the walls, hurling more words under your breath. You ignored the sting to your wrist as you kept banging and banging, eyes blurry and voice straining. You only stopped when arms wrapped you from behind, they pinned your biceps down and dragged you away from the wall. You struggled against their hold until you gave up, not fighting just letting your emotions get the better of you. 

“I can’t- I can’t do this again. I just can’t.” Legs turn to jelly as you let gravity drag you back to the floor. You just wanted to curl into a ball and sleep into a coma.

Steve, you knew it was him holding you, he fell with you. Your back was pulled to his chest as he shushed you, trying to calm you like a baby. His hand pushed your head towards his neck and you shifted so you leaned on your side, starchy uniform wrinkling in your grip. “I can’t keep… doing this.”

Steve took a deep breath, “I know, baby. I know. We just gotta stick together and we’ll be safe.” He pressed his face into your hair, his eyes closing as he hugged you tighter. He never wants to see you break like this, and he’ll do everything to keep you from cracking further.

“Uh… just so you nerds are aware, I’m supposed to be spending the night at Tina’s. And Tina always covers for me. But if I’m not home for Uncle Jack’s party tomorrow and my mom finds out you four are responsible, she’s gonna hunt you down, one by one, and slit your throat.”

“I don’t care about Tina!” Steve yelled as he moved his hands over your ears. With his mouth close they barely muffled his screaming at Erica. “Or Uncle Jack’s party! Your moms not gonna be able to find us if we’re dead in a Russian elevator!”

Your ears were uncovered and took in the silence that followed so much yelling. Dustin and Robin are the only two just watching and standing back. Steve kept your head pushed to his neck, his chin digging into your scalp as his palm rubbed your bicep up and down. 

“Hey,” You turned to Dustin. His voice was low and even as he addressed the room. “Why don’t we just climb our way out?” Pointed upward to a square cut into the ceiling.

Steve pulled the both of you off the floor and kissed your salty cheeks. He squatted so Dustin could climb onto his shoulder and push the hatch open. With help from Steve, Dustin was pushed up and then Steve used a table for leverage.

You, Robin, and Erica just looked up and waited for anything. Your arms wrapped around your stomach, pretending it was Steve grounding you.

“Steve!” Robin yelled, “What’s it look like? Can we climb?”

There was thumping and then Dustin’s head popped in with a strained smile. “Uh…”

“Uh, what? Can we climb?” Erica demanded.

“No. We can’t climb, we’re too far down.” Dustin groaned.

You dropped your head. “Son of a bitch,” mumbled under your breath. Steve climbed back in and sighed as he leaned against the wall.

-

“Code red. I repeat, code red. Does anyone copy?”

You could hear Dustin’s voice bouncing off the thick walls from above. He asked for his walkie and said he was gonna try to get some help. He’s been repeating code red for about five minutes now.

“We are innocent children and we are trapped under Starcourt Mall. The Red Army has infiltrated Hawkins, and if we are found they will torture and kill us.” That was a new one. And if anyone heard that, they would probably think it was a dumb prank.

Steve climbed atop a table and poked his head through the hole. “Hey!” He called to Dustin, “Gotta take it easy on that thing. Gonna drain the battery.”

Dustin’s voice was muffled and you could only hear Steve’s reply, “What do you think, Petey the mall cop is gonna rappel down here and save the day?” He shimmied up back to the roof.

You, having nothing to do and wanting to distract yourself, you started stacking and organizing the boxes. Lend a helping hand to the Russians, cause why not? Robin tried pushing different buttons to get the door open or the elevator working again hopefully. And Erica was off to the side sitting down, messing with the container Robin stuffed in her bag.

Then there was a sound and a smell, your nose wrinkling. You heard Robin scuff followed by, “Can you redirect your stream, please?” You looked at the wall and you groaned.

Loud banging filled the silence and you promptly spun to see Erica hitting the green liquid against metal tubs. You rushed to her side and yanked the unknown substance from her tiny hands. “Hey, hey! Be careful, careful, careful! We don’t even know what this is.”

She rolled her eyes, “Exactly. It could be useful.” Robin walked over, “Useful how?”

Erica started a little rant. “We could survive down here a long time without food, but if the human body doesn’t get water it will die.”

“I know that, little miss know-it-all. But I hate to break it to you, but this is not water. Not even close.” Your attitude is starting to match Erica’s.

She shrugged, “No, but it’s a liquid. And if it comes down to me drinking that shit or dying of thirst, I drink.”

You heard Robin scuff and then a distant noise. An electronic whirring. Robin walked to the door and Erica yanked the liquid back when you were distracted. The both of you watched as Robin set her ear to the door and then pushed away to the tables. She climbed up and motioned with her hands to follow.

“We’ve got company.”

Robin went up first and then you made Erica go next, helping her small frame reach the hatch for someone to grab her. You can hear the noise getting closer. You stood on your tiptoes to get as close to the top, fingers stretched to the point of cracking. You weren’t good at pull-ups so you know this is gonna be a difficult task. Luckily, Steve came forward and grabbed your arms tight, and helped pull you upward. You fell into his arms as Dustin closed the lid, and now was the waiting game.

The elevator thudded then stopped meaning it was opened and then you heard two Russian men speaking, their feet shuffling back and forth a few times. Steve looked down into the opening allowing light, you should see the shadows moving. Everyone was tense, keeping as still as possible to not give away the position. Steve held a finger to his lips then he tilted his head slightly in the direction of Erica, who was holding her container of liquid goo.

Steve curled his fingers in a ‘give me’ motion and she slowly handed it off. The two men walked out of the room and now you just waited until they drove away. That whirring noise grew distant and it was followed by the heavy door falling.

Steve yanked the hatch open and climbed down, the door getting closer to sealing back up. He slid on the ground and with the bottom vertical he jammed it open. “Let’s go,” you usher Erica down first. Her backpack was thrown to Steve and pushed through the door.

She crawled on the floor with Steve’s “Go, go, go,” And her “I’m going.” in response.

Dustin dropped second. “Henderson. Go, go.” Steve gave him a push. You urged Robin next, her legs in the air before you pushed them down. You didn’t bother to argue with Steve about who was next since he would insist on you. You shuffled under with Dustin and Robin yanking you out of the way so Steve could hurry as the glass was breaking.

You grabbed his uniform and tugged at him, Robin helping with her grunts of, “Come on, Steve, let’s go!” He rolled his body into yours and both of you watched as the glass gave out and the green goo sizzled the floor and door.

You sighed as you hugged Steve tight and he did as well. You heard Robin ask, “Still wanna drink that?” And you knew it was at Erica. Despite the moment, you couldn’t stop yourself from planting kisses on the side of Steve’s face, your body went through slight shudders of panic. “You’re okay, you’re okay.” Whispered into his hot skin.

He pushed himself off your body and held his hands out to help you from the floor. His eyes zigzagged everywhere, “Not hurt or anything?” You confirmed your intact state and he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Holy mother of God.” Dustin’s voice broke the silence. You and Steve broke apart and everyone turned to see what stunned Dustin Henderson. A giant tunnel is what. “Well…hope you guys are in good shape.” He took your hand and pulled you with him as he tapped Dustin on the chest, “Looking at you, roast beef.”

-

You weren’t sure how long you’d been walking. Could’ve been fifteen minutes or a full hour already. It just went on and on forever, the fluorescent lighting hurting your eyes and causing your headache to worsen. Steve kept your hands intertwined, something bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving reassuring kisses on our cracked skin.

“I mean, you have to admit, as a feat of engineering alone, this is impressive.” Dustin with his wandering gaze and scientific mind. Steve countered Dustin’s remark, “What are you talking about? It’s a total fire hazard. There are no stairs, there’s no exit, there’s just an elevator that drops you halfway to hell.” 

And you agreed with him in your head, ears tingling at the deep sound of Steve’s voice bouncing off the walls and almost wrapping you in a warm blanket. Messily as you walked you landed a kiss on his clothed shoulder, just wishing to take a moment and hug him like a bear.

Erica’s high-pitched voice spoke, “They’re Commies. You don’t pay people, they cut corners.” You genuinely wonder if she’s learning this from school or something she does as a hobby.

“To be fair to our Russian comrades, I don’t think this tunnel was designed for walking,” Robin mentioned. “Think about it, they developed the perfect system for transporting cargo.” And she was right about that.

“It all comes into the mall like any old delivery.” “And then they load it up onto those trucks and nobody’s the wiser.” Dustin and Robin finished each other’s sentences.

“Wait… so you think they built this whole mall so they could transport that green poison?” You leaned forward a bit to see everyone’s thinking faces. Dustin twisted his mouth, “I seriously doubt it’s something as boring as poison. It’s gotta be much more valuable, like promethium or something.”

“What the hell is Promethium?” Steve blurted.

“It’s what Victor Stone’s dad used to make Cyborg’s bionic and cybernetic components.” Robin casually mentioned. You couldn’t help the gasp that followed, “You read comics? Robin, why am I just now hearing about this?” She just shrugged, but you saw her hidden smile.

“You’re all so nerdy, it makes me physically ill.” Erica had to ruin the moment.

Steve was quick to come to his defense, “No, no, no. No, don’t lump me in with them. I’m not a nerd, all right?” The simple comment made you slip your hand from his out of pettiness. Steve whipped his head towards you and tried to grab it back, but you just crossed your arms and kept walking.

You heard light chuckles from the others. “Why so sensitive, Harrington? Afraid of losing cool points to a ten-year-old child?” Robin’s snarky comment was followed by Dustin’s, “With you dating (Y/n), you’re a nerd by association. She’s got a good knowledge of comics and Star Wars.”

“I know that. I’m just saying I don’t know jack shit about Prometheus.” You dropped your arms and you felt Steve’s hitting yours twice before you took the innovation of holding hands again. “Promethium.” Dustin fixed Steve’s miss pronunciation. “Prometheus is a Greek mythological figure, but whatever. All I’m saying is, it’s probably being used to make something.”

“Or power something.” You quickly throw it out there. “Like a nuclear weapon?” Dustin asked. You shrugged even if he couldn’t see, “Totally, they are Russia and they usually are up to something sketchy.”

“Walking towards a nuclear weapon. That’s great. That’d be great.” Steve used his sarcasm as his defense. He squeezed your hand three times.

“But if they’re building something, why here?” Robin pointed out, “I mean, Hawkins. Seriously. Of all places. At the very best, we’re a toilet stop on your way to Disneyland, but maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s our very…” She trailed off as she and Erica continued forward. At the same time, Steve pulled the both of you to a stop with Dustin.

“You think the Russians know?” Steve turned to Dustin. “About-” Dustin didn’t need to finish, the three of you knew what he was gonna say. “They could,” Steve pointed out. “So it’s connected?” You asked while huddling closer to the boys.

Dustin shook his head, “Maybe.” “How?” You were confused about how a government on the other side of the world could know about your shit town and its supernatural connection.

“I don’t know, but it’s…” “Possible.” The three of you whispered. Your headache was worsening by the second.

“I’m sorry,” You looked up and saw Robin and Erica further up the tunnel and turned around, “Is there something you’d like to share with the class? (Y/n)?” You could only open and close your mouth, nothing coming out.

The sound of static hissing followed by a man’s voice speaking what sounds to be Russian drew everyone’s attention. Erica dropped her backpack and pulled the walkie out as you all huddled on the ground. Robin pulled the antenna out and listened to the voice. She then translated what was being relaid.

“A trip to China sounds nice. If you tread lightly. It’s the code.”

Dustin pointed at the walkie in her hands, “Wherever that broadcast is coming from-” “It’s close. And if there’s one thing we know about that signal…”

“It can reach the surface.” You finished with an air of hopefulness. Robin looked up with a smile then to your group, “Let’s go,” and you continued your walking.

-

You walked for what you assumed to be about thirty minutes before voices and loud noises got closer. Steve pulled your group into a corner behind a giant metal container and waited for the coast to be clear of any workers passing by. He peeked his head out and when he assessed the scene he moved forward and pulled you with him, “Clear, come on, Let’s go.” And everyone stuck close together.

“Okay, that was close.” “Too close.”

“Relax,” Steve stopped Robin and Dustin’s complaining, “Relax, no one saw…” His steps came to a halt and your jaw was metaphorically on the ground.

The room in front of you was filled with workers. Scientists, guards, drivers, and some people you can’t identify are dressed in red full-body suits. A female voice was speaking Russian on the intercom and you forgot you were in the open until you were almost spotted by an armed guard.

“Shit!” You yanked Steve with you to hide behind a red box, everyone tucked behind. “Jesus!” Steve muttered.

“Red Dawn.” Dustin referring to a movie that came out last year.

“I saw it.” And you just thought Erica meant the movie until she followed up with, "First floor, northwest.”

“Saw what?” Steve asked. “The comms room.” She sounded exasperated.

Steve scrunched his brows, “You saw the comms room? From here?” She nodded.

“Are you sure?” You couldn’t help questioning. You wouldn’t be able to tell which room was which. “Positive. The door was open for a second, and I saw a bunch of lights and machines and shit in there.”

“That could be a hundred different things,” Dustin argued. You looked in the direction Erica said and squinted your eyes to see anything, you only saw a closed door and faint movement through the slender window.

“I’ll take those odds.” Robin firmly stated. You couldn’t help the sigh as you closed your eyes. This was crazy, this was crazy, this was crazy. “This is crazy.” A slip of your tongue.

“Well, would you rather be stuck out here or trying to get help?” Erica sassed. And you knew she was right, you still didn’t like the slim odds against the five of you.

“All right.” Steve whispered as he laid out the plan, “We’re going to move fast, we’re going to stay low. Okay?”

Steve went first then you followed, copying his actions and following his rules. One by one, like ducks in a row. You moved then stopped, and waited for people to pass before moving again to the nearest hiding spot. Just one more stop before the door you held your breath, not wanting to make a single sound before reaching safety. Eyes on the door and watching as a man in a lab coat leaves the room, door wide open and swinging closed.

“Let’s go.” Steve moved forward and caught the door just before it closed. He ushered everyone in before him. His back was to the room so it took him a second longer to realize that it wasn’t empty, a Russian guard was at the controls.

You pulled the kids behind you, arms out to the sides to block them. The guard just stared at everyone then moved his right hand towards his hip, his gun. You stiffened with your eyes widening. Robin moved forward and started shouting in Russian.

“Tread lightly! Tread lightly!” The man was confused, replying, but you didn’t understand him and Robin wasn’t planning on translating. “Silver cat… Silver cat.” She waved a hand behind her.

Everyone was tense. Eyes move everywhere from person to person or looking for something within the room as a weapon. You didn’t try to look at Steve, worried that might cause a bad reaction.

The guard shook his head, speaking more words that went in one ear and out the other. Robin turned to you with a worried look then back. She took another step closer, “China?” The man just scoffs and grabs his gun.

Steve’s yells fill the small room. He charges forward and shoves the man into the control counsel. With numb fingers, you tug Robin at the back of her shirt and closer to you. Your eyes watch as the man throws Steve off him and into a table and he groans from the impact. He throws a swing and Steve leaned back and avoids getting punched in the cheek, but he’s grabbed by his shirt and thrown into another table face first.

“Steve!” Your voice coming back to you. The guard grips the back of the Scoop's shirt, but Steve elbows him in the stomach. The guard stumbles away, allowing Steve to grab the walkie from the main counsel and throw it hand to hand before smacking the Russian in the face. He hits a table and then lands on the floor with a loud thud. 

You stare at the unconscious man before your eyes travel to Steve, who’s panting and running a hand through the front of his hair. Body moving on auto-pilot, your feet carry you towards Steve. Hands are shaky as they hold his biceps while you look over his face, warm brown eyes dart back and forth. You feel rather than see, Steve’s fingers curling into your belt loops and tugging you closer.

“Dude!” Dustin’s loud voice caused Steve to look his way, “You did it! You won a fight!” Steve looked to the floor and you saw the faint smile pulling his lips, “Jeez…”

“Please don’t do that again,” You couldn’t help the whisper. Steve’s brows furrowed at your words, “Well if I didn’t…” You stopped him with your hands on his cheeks, “No, I- I know. I just… I don’t want you getting hurt.” Thumb swiping over the apple of his cheek. His eyes and body melted just a touch, but now wasn’t the time to let his guard down. He only kissed your forehead and a reassuring smile before focusing back on the task at hand.

“You want to walk all the way back?” Erica’s loud shout made you step away from Steve reluctantly.

She and Dustin held a stand-off. “Well, we can hang out for a little bit, relax, have a picnic maybe.” And you can hear where Steve’s developing more of his sarcasm. Erica countered, “Have a picnic? We came here for a radio.”

“This plan is way better. If I knew Steve could knock out a Russian, that would’ve been our plan in the first place.”

“Steve is not fighting anymore Russians.” You stopped Dustin from potentially putting Steve in any harm. He just rolled his eyes and Erica scoffed, you were getting so tired of these kids and their growing attitude.

“Look I’m just saying-” “Guys.”

Robin’s voice stopped whatever Dustin was gonna say. She stood in a doorway that led to some stairs going up. “There’s something up there.” Pointing a finger over her shoulder.

You were the last one up the stairs and through the door. Steve closed it slowly and quietly behind you and when you turned to the room, you felt your blood run cold.

Slow, timid steps guided you to the glass openings in the wall. You leaned in, nose almost tapping the window as your glued eyes took in the sight before you. Steve stood behind you, his back pressed close and his face over your shoulder, while Dustin was on your left.

“Holy shit.” And holy shit was right.

A room of white button-ups and lab coats, people moving about or messing with buttons and dials. A glowing white light caused your eyes to squint, its noises were faint, but the walls rumbled with power. Whatever these Russians were doing, they were powering up a giant device that was pointed at the wall. It was causing a riff to open slowly, red and orange, and without having seen it before you know where this leads.

“The Upside Down,” was all you could whisper.

-

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striked means tumblr cant find you

[bearhyuck127]

series review

Spoiler warning!!!

we are the series -

This show is so cute.

I can definitely see myself coming back to watch this as a comfort show.

Pisses me off that it took phem and peem up until episode 13 to start dating.

Q and toey are so cute I want to rip my hair out omg. Definitely my favorite side couple.

So sad it's ending soon.

8 out of 10

I give this rating because it took so long for the main couple to get together. Also I feel like it was dragged on a little longer than it should have. But the acting is great ( as expected from pond and phuwin) and I keep coming back for more.

My stand in the series-

BROOO

This show most definitely keeps me on my feet.

I don't understand why Joe would go back to the people who basically killed him.

I tried so hard to like ming but the second he chained my man how up I lost any liking I had for him.

I was a passionate Joe and sol supporter but when I saw how sad and helpless ming was I couldn't help but feel bad for him. ( I know I'm insane)

After finding out that Joe was in this joe's body he knew he had to make things right and I'm proud of him for all the sacrifices he is making right now.

9 out of 10

I give this rating because it's genuinely a really good series. Sure I kick and scream like a mad person but that's just apart of the experience.

I know that Joe will choose ming in the end because I've seen the trailer but its still nerve racking.

That are so foul for not giving the teaser for the last episode. I have to sit through the week in pain.

This love doesn't have long beans-

The way I've waited so long for this.

When I saw the announcement I was in school and I tried my absolute best to keep calm.

I've been obsessed with sailubpon since pit babe and I'm so happy that they have their own series.

Not to mention Garfield and benz. I'm so excited to see how there relationship develops.

I find the fact that the restaurant is actually babe's house from pit babe so funny.

8.5 out of 10

I think it's only fair to give this rating.

The first episode just came out but I'm already in love.

And like I said I waited so long for this series.

I'm so excited for next Friday.

I am definitely not excited about the "love triangle" though sigh.

My love mix-up

I cannot stress enough how much I love this series.

I love how fun Geminiforth make every series that they are in.

The confession was soo stressful though.. because what do you mean atom confessed got scared and tripped, ended up rolling down the hill with kongthap and then kongthap got bit by a snake...let's just say I was out of my bed for the whole thing.

I'm so ready for mudmee to confess because her and half are so cute.

9 out of 10

This series is so refreshing after the trauma I get from my stand in.

I can never get bored with geminiforth and I will always support them in all of their projects.

Sunset x vibes-

im not going to lie I wasn't too interested when watching the first episode but I let a few more episodes to come out before continuing and now I like it.

It's definitely something to watch when I'm bored every Saturday.

The friend group does kind of annoy me a little bit.. they blackmailed people that are way higher up in the business than they are which kind of gave me the ick. I understand that they were worried about their friend but I wouldn't go around blackmailing people. I'm pushing through though and I'm looking forward to the development of Sam and yo though.

I love moss and bank and I've wanted to see them in another series again for a while now.

7.5 out of 10

Though I like how the show is developing I have a few problems with it.

I wish they added translations for the jewelry scene but then again that could just be my streaming platform problem.

I will always love anything moss and bank do and this is no hate towards anyone!

Love sea-

oh. my. god.

This show has me in a chokehold i swear.

Again with the friends though omg! Mook girlie I promise tongrak will be ok if he has a man in his house.. I mean look at mut.. all I have to say.

I find the whole nook and vie situation is so cute though I'm so ready for them to get together.

Also these scenes man... they need to let us breathe. LET US BREATHE.

8.5 out of 10

I love fortpeat sooo much.

The difference between their characters in love in the air and love sea is funny but I live for it.

So ready for mut to show tongrak what love actually is.

Also money doesn't buy love guys 😔

Those are all the the shows I'm watching right now..it's a 9 to 5 job I swear... ( Please I need more shows ☹️) If you have any recommendations I will gladly take them. Sadly I can only watch on iqiyi and YouTube though so please stick to shows that air on those platforms please and thank you 🫶🫶🫶

[rain-ghoul-appreciator]

✺ i cannot fix your wounds this time ✺

tw for death/murder, blood, and injuries

day 4: wound tending/first aid

pairing: alpha/omega (i love making my favorite old men suffer)

also he/they omega cause i said so

under the cut or on AO3

"you don't have to do this, you know that right?" 

omega looked up at the scarred face of their mate. never before had they seen him so quiet, so small, and most of all, so scared. he set down the bandages in his hands and gently cupped alpha's face in their hands.

"but i want to, i want to help you." 

"im a monster, megs! you saw what i did!" omega sighed and picked the bandages back up.

"you're not a monster, love, you were just scared, and- and-"

"you don't understand, i killed that girl! her blood is on my hands now!"

"alpha."

"i can still hear her screaming! i killed her, megs!"

"alpha!" 

alpha paused, staring down at the nasty gash on his arm.

"look at me, sparky, please." hesitantly, alpha looked up at omega through glassy eyes. "this wasn't your fault."

"but it was, i-"

"alpha." he fell silent again, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. omega sighed again, wrapping the bandages around the cut on their mate's arm. 

"im sorry," alpha whispered, voice shaking with every word. 

"don't apologize," omega insisted, "this wasn't your fault, okay? you were scared and thought you were doing the right thing, so don't you dare try and drag yourself down over this." omega secured the bandage onto alpha's arm mere seconds before the fire ghoul broke down. they gently wove their fingers into his hair, running his thumb over his scalp.

minutes later, silence once again fell over the room. omega held their mate close, savoring the touch they knew could probably be the last. as if to confirm his worries, alpha spoke up.

"they're sending me back," he muttered. omega squeezed him a little tighter. "they say i can't be trusted anymore, cause i killed her." more tears welled up in his eyes.

"calm down, sparky, please," omega begged, pressing a long kiss to the top of alpha's head. "it's going to be okay."

"i'm going back to the pit, megs, how is that okay?" alpha's voice shook with every word, threatening to break once again.

"i..." omega paused, shaking their head. "i don't know." a tear slipped down his face. 

"what are we going to do?" alpha whispered, gripping onto the back of omega's shirt. 

"let's not think about it for now, okay?" alpha nodded as omega pressed a kiss to the small cut above his eyebrow. "sit up for me, please?" slowly, alpha pulled himself away from omega's embrace, holding out his injured hand before omega could even ask. it fell quiet once again.

omega ran his thumb over the bruised and bloody knuckles of his mate's hand. it took everything in him to not break down right there as they pumped quintessence into the wounds. they could feel alpha shaking, hear him trying to keep it together. a sharp pang of hurt went through their chest. 

"all done," they murmured, bringing alpha's hand up to their lips as a tear slipped down their cheek. the two sat still for a moment before collapsing into each other. both sobbed, the grief of it all hanging above them like a thick storm cloud.

eventually, they moved to the bed, tangled together like knotted hair. alpha tucked his head into omega's chest, breathing in the scent of his mate.

"promise you'll come and find me?" 

"i promise."

"i love you, megs, till the end of time."

"i love you too, sparky, more than you could ever imagine."

when omega awoke in the morning, all that was left was the tear stained sheets and the lingering scent of their mate.

[3mutantsinatrenchcoat]

It takes a village to raise a family part 6

Part 5 , part 7

The amazing rural au is by @angelpuns

These next few parts will be from the exact same day starting at dawn to dusk, if it's formatted wonky I had to segment the original because it reached the word limit

Uhhh content warning! For a brief few paragraphs about the battlefield of war from the perspective of someone who has never seen one before!

There is barely any Splinter/Yoshi in this because like I said it was originally all in one piece so I'm sorryyyyy,

It had been years since I met a tired scarred human. We started as strangers, to neighbors..then to what I would like to say friends and family. Though I'm not completely sure how he sees it.

... however, today would be much different than the rest.

I remember I dreamt I was standing in a field, the skys a shade of orange and green, smoke all around. The ground was covered in trash and trees in splinters and bits.

I remember hearing loud noises, I couldn't describe it but every sound that was made buried fear into the pit of my stomach. I could hear people screaming all around, shouts of anger, of pain, of mourning, names screamed out in desperation.

The air smelt burnt, like the air itself was dying, looking around did nothing. That was until I turned to face my friend, Splinter. Dressed in clothes I've never seen him wear, holding something I've never seen before. It was made of wood, but not like any branch I ever seen. He held it with two hands, holding it forward with a look I never seen in his eyes.

It was as if everything went silent, then there was the whistle and a rock fell at my feet. I only had enough time to look down at it before the rock split into many pieces, as if a dramatic child who fell just realized he scrapped his knee.

I remember how bright it was when I shot up out of my sleep, I remember the burning in my throat before my husband slid into the room, dressed up in a button up, sleeves rolled just how I liked them, and those damned pants he hated so much. I remember seeing the look in his eyes as he cupped my face, asking or begging if I was hurt.

"i-im...I'm okay-..I'm okay-" when I blinked I could feel the tears rolling down my face, touching them with my hands and only then did I realize what i was doing.

"was it another one of those spells?.." his thumbs wiped the tears from my eyes, his hands were warm. "It's been a while since you had one of those..."

I shook my head, looking at him and I could tell there was fear in his eyes. He knew it was a bad one.

"you are not a bad omen dear..you were given a gift..." His voice was soft and soothing, the way his hands ran up the back of my head, I could feel the cracks and calluses in his fingers.

"you know they are never shown to me unless they are bad..." My voice was no louder than a whisper, but I could tell it stung him not a bit duller than a sharpened sword.

"what about the time with the harvest festival? That one wasn't bad" he was trying to make me feel better, but he never knows the truth of how bad it truly is.

"why are you wearing those pants-" I couldn't help but laugh when i asked, he couldn't help but laugh as well. "You hate those pants-" I gave him a smile, he didn't seem to press any further.

To my surprise he made breakfast, I slept in. He made my favorite, two eggs, runny, over rice. It was something quick and easy to make, especially since prices have gone up it was also decently cheap.

He poured the milk, pulled out my chair, sat across our small wooden table.

He reached across and held my hand, flinching when a splinter snagged his arm. He was never the best in wooden craft, but he was decent in others. Our table was washed up drift wood that splinter helped me drag home.

After we ate we left to the porch, we couldn't afford the market stall this week so I settled on my rocking chair with a batch of fabric and a needle and got to work. Meanwhile my husband was cutting up wood for the fire tonight, every chance he got he tried to show off how big and strong he was, and I tried to pretend to ignore him, but that smile on his face always made me feel all warm inside.

He retired his work after he whistled in my direction and showed off the muscle in one of his arms, putting a hand on the log, only the log slipped under the weight and he went down with it.

"you are such a dork" I smiled as he walked up the steps, his shoulders slumped as he rubbed his face, grabbing the scruff of his chin I left him a kiss on the bruise. "All better?"

He smiled the same way he did when he tried to ask for my hand the first time we met, a smile with all his teeth, one ear flopped to the side and the other sticking straight up.

I held up the fabric, placing it in his hand. "I made you something" I couldn't help but squeak in excitement. There is something about loving someone for as long as we have, that you would think the spark would die down but it never did. The feeling of excitement giving him gifts knowing his reaction was one of pure joy..that never goes away.

He unfolded it, as careful as he could as if it was glass. "You finished it?" He whipped his head up, clasping the fabric around his neck and over his shoulders.

"well, since you are gone for so long every day I figured you would need a new cloak...to keep you warm" I pulled at my fingers as nervously as I could, though I knew he would love it there was always that voice.

He smiled wider if that was even possible and scooped me out the chair, swinging us around as if we were dancing. "I will cherish it forever! There won't be a single tear! Not a speck of dirt!" And when the spinning ended, it ended with a kiss.

By lunch we sat on the couch, him reading a book while I varnished his leather gloves and his knife holster. It needed to be cleaned. His legs ended up in my lap and before long I ended up in his, using his stomach as my working table while he layed on the couch.

He was never a fan of the shirt anyway, but he still pouted when some of it got on his shirt, giving me a pout that the only remedy being a kiss on the nose.

"don't forget we have dinner over at Splinter's tonight" he spoke, closing the book slightly. I stopped what I was doing, the process only took a few seconds before I looked up at him "is that why you wore those pants?"

He burst into laughter, I could only join. His laugh was infectious, and one I would never want to let go.

[nina-ya]

NINAAAA <333 happy friday lovely !! i hope you have a great day and an even greater start to your weekend ! sending u lots n lots of love :3 ! any f/o thoughts you can share with us ?? ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝🎤

AAAAA HAPPY FRIDAYYYYYYYYYY I AM SENDING SO MUCH MORE LOVE TO YOU IM ALREADY DELIVERING FLOWERS TO YOUR HOME!!

*clasps hands like an evil villain* I indeed do have f/o thoughts hehe

So I’m going to a concert tonight and I’m just thinking about dragging law to the concert and he would drive us there (I’m obviously a passenger princess) and I just am screaming every lyric to the songs on the radio, getting hyped up for the concert and just absolutely doing my hardest to annoy him hehehe

And like,,, during concerts I do imaging being at the back of the pit with him and twirling around dancing to each of the songs and imagining him just staring at me with complete and utter infatuation as he watches me in one of my happiest moments and and and hhhggggggggvbbnnnnnnn during any lovey songs I’d just get reallyyy close to him and sing every lyric into his SOUL he would feel like I wrote those songs for him I stg

But yeahhhh I’m excited for the concert tonight and I’m equally excited thinking about law taking me to it