#But MAN. we deserve more orb

[chaotic-deity]

I still can't get over the fact that King Boo's fatass only shows up like 3 times in lm3 😭 King you're the whole reason I wanted the game, you can't do this to me

[goldengirliez]

TIPSY MIKEY. We all stan a cute, tipsy Mikey.

09:53 pm

Nighttime is the most amazing part of the day. You can give yourself the attention you deserve, taking care of yourself, watching your favourite show, preparing a nourishing meal... All of this after the frenzy of the day, the heat of the city, the infinite traffic jams, and the overwhelmingness of your daily job.

Once you get your favourite shirt covering you up, you can't help but sigh contently, letting the perfume of the clothing fill your nostrils, the softness of the cotton fabric gently caressing your skin and the white colour of the tissue soothes your tired eyes.

His shirts are always your anchor after a long day when you haven't been able to meet. After a whole week you and your boyfriend, Mikey, haven't been able to meet because of his busy schedule due to an upcoming race and you being buried deep down the pit of work and hectic everyday life.

Just when you're about to get into the covers and call it a day, some motherfucker dares to ring the bell of your apartment, knocking at your door mercilessly. It's almost 10 pm, who could it possibly be?!

Stomping your feet towards the door of your apartment, you rub your eyes in a pissed manner, the lotion you put on your face earlier slightly oiling the tip of your fingers. When you open the door with a frustrated sigh, your eyes go from annoyed to surprised in less than two seconds. You surely didn't expect to find Draken, Mikey's best friend since the old days and a member of his racing team, looking at you apologetically while holding your boyfriend on his back, piggyback style.

You don't question him, despite wanting to do so, and let the beefy man in. He drops Mikey on your couch and he yelps, whining a slurred and slightly annoyed "Ken-chinnnnn".

You and Draken share a look that says it all: he was drunk, dead-drunk, cockeyed.

"A week is left before the big day, everyone wanted to meet up before having to go all in until the race day" Drake sighs and scratches the back of his head.

You have never seen him so shy, he must be quite tipsy too but you decide not to point that out, showing mercy for his virility.

"I'm sorry about this- he kept on blabbering about how much he missed you so I thought this was the best thing to do".

Of course, it is. Mikey's addicted to you. He loves you so much and every time he can't meet you even for a short period, not being able to hold you close and pepper your face in kisses, he loses it and does stupid things like... Getting drunk with his friends.

You can feel a sudden weight on your shoulder, strong arms wrapping around your waist like a snake and a stinging smell of mixed alcohol make its way through your senses.

Mikey's cheek is squished against your shoulder and he looks at you with big, doe onyx orbs and sweet, plump pouty lips.

His obsidian hair is a bit messy, and his cheek is slightly rosy due to his tipsiness.

You could devour him. He looks so adorable.

"Babyyy, is this really you? Fuck– I've missed you so much" winey voice and teary eyes. He always acts like a child whenever he's drunk and that never fails to put your heart in danger because of cuteness overload.

"You did great Draken, I'll take care of him, thank you for bringing him here" you smile at your boyfriend's best mate and motion him to go before Mikey throws off a tantrum on how much he had missed you and how you should have answered to his messages more often.

Just when he gets out you sigh and look at your boyfriend who's snuggling against you (probably because he's not even capable of standing still by himself), caressing your warm skin with the tip of his nose.

“Why haven't you answered any of my calls today, baby?”

It is surprising how his voice rings in your years, shaking your very core: his slurred and childish words from before have been completely replaced by a deep, low and shy whisper. He sounds pained.

You can feel the warmth of his muscles flex on your abdomen as he brings you closer to him until your back is touching his toned chest. His heart is thrumming against his ribcage, you can feel it.

“Can't focus on anything without hearing from you for so long… I get worried too, ya know?”

Your Manjiro has always been this way, whenever he got tipsy, he would always become more clingy, whinier and vulnerable.

Despite this, his charm is undeniable and you can't help but pend from his lips when his words flow effortlessly like the smoothest cream. Listening to him and absorbing his body heat is like indulging in the sweetest thing you might ever taste.

He doesn't do it on purpose, such antics become natural when he's with you: your magnecticity touches every cell of his body and makes it act on its own, getting on the right frequency just because you are there.

You're everything he needs and all he has always had.

You can't blame him for behaving like this, like the lovestruck man he is.

“I’m so sorry, ‘jiro, I've been busy… but I'll make it up to you, okay?”

His body weight leans more towards you as he mutters a slurred ‘you better'. Despite wanting to sound pissed, the smile on his face is clear as day even if his face is hidden in the curve on your neck. His satisfied tone betrays him: maybe wearing one of his shirts was a start to make up for the lost time already.

As your hand smoothes over his liquorice locks you can feel a damp, hot sensation on your neck: his hot breath reaches your skin as he kisses it in both relief and contentment, exciting your nostrils with a pungent hint of alcohol.

Once your hands make contact with his back in a fluid, circular motion, you can feel Mikey's muscles tense and melt in your hold in less than a few seconds: you prepared him a warm bath to help him ease up his paranoia about “you avoiding him�� and wash off that nauseous smell of liquor that was making you sick.

The water ripples underneath his body, circular little waves expand and dissolve among the warm water whenever he moves.

Letting the fragrance of the oils and the body wash hug his senses, filling his thoughts with your gentle hand scratching his scalp deliciously with the tip of your fingers and your idyllic voice that echoes through the bathroom walls he feels at peace.

He breathes in deeply every time, his toned chest rises and falls at a slow pace and the droplets of water kiss every inch of the skin for you, sliding down his muscles deliciously.

With his eyes gently closed and his silky, obsidian hair sticking to his forehead slightly, he looks like a greek god, just for you to be blessed with.

You can't help but sigh happily as his consciousness clears up with every passing minute: he starts to make more coherent sentences, talking to you about his week and complaining about his team that put his life in such a hectic frenzy for the upcoming race that he hardly had time to check up on you.

“The only way I thought I could see you was by taking advantage of this dinner: I mean, no one wants to deal with a drunk, complaining pain the ass before the race, yeah? They had to let me come here, I'm a genius!”

You love him for that.

The soft thuds that jog up the stairs are unmistakable: as Mikey reaches your room and opens the door, you are already waiting for him in the bed, keeping the sheets warm for him, and making a comforting nest for his arrival.

He insisted that you wait for him upstairs as he brushed his teeth and dressed up, claiming that he wasn't that tipsy to be looked out for like the big baby he is.

Let's give him credit for that, he was right.

His face seems to be sparking under the warm light of your abatjour, the freshness of his body reaches your nose more and more as he walks closer to the bed, inching towards your face so you can breathe in and taste the minty scent of his mouth onto yours with a sloppy kiss.

When your hand guides its way on his collarbone, tickling his damp skin with your palm, he wastes no time hovering over your frame completely and crushing his weight on top of you, making the soft mattress sink lower underneath your bodies.

Even if Mikey has always had a quite smaller frame compared to other guys, he never fails to knock the breath off your lungs when he catches you by surprise. He might have a thing for that small puff of air that leaves your chest unexpectedly, making you yelp in such a delightful tone… but he would never admit that out loud. Where would the fun be otherwise?

Snuggling against your body, you can feel the tip of his nose playfully rub against your cheek as he kisses your jaw with a small movement of his mouth, the softest flower petals caressing your tender skin graciously.

Useless to say that you'll sleep in that position for the whole night and you have no room to argue, not when your man starts to mindlessly mumble sweet nonsense under his breath and ask questions about your week until late that night.

Mikey's head is still a bit fuzzy, his senses don't connect down on earth fully due to the fragmentary memories of the embarrassing, confused events that happened that night tormenting his subconscious, but he doesn't care: as long as your voice lulls him to sleep, all his repressed pre-race anxieties melt away; every fear of having missed out on a big event of your life that week dissolves into thin air; every inch of the emptiness that your absence brought fills up gradually, leaving him giddy inside.

He doesn't deny it, Manjiro admits that he can be whiney, childish and reckless (idiotic actually): getting drunk and causing a scene at the restaurant, screaming at the waiter because he didn't receive a flag on his entrecôte and spilling the carafe of wine on the white table cloth in front of the team before falling from the chair wasn’t the best idea to get him to your house, especially since he's an emergent public figure in the motorcycle racing industry.

But, honestly, that's all worth it if he gets to spend time with you once again, babying him the way he deserves.

English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes!

This has been in my drafts for way too long, so I decided to finish it– I'm not that proud of the outcome but I hope it brought a smile on your face regardless!

Sending y'all hugs. ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

©GOLDENGIRLIEZ do not repost or modify on any platform.

[monimccoythings]

The Way We Were

Word Count: 791

tags: f!Reader, dark!logan (past), threats, mentions of blood, past abusive behavior, implied alcoholism.

"Stop. it." His voice came out in growls.

His claws are so close to your skin you almost feel a thin line of blood running down your neck.

"One more word. Just one. And I'll show you what these can do."

You couldn't move. You couldn't speak. Too terrified and heartbroken of the man that had once mattered to you the most. The one you'd have willingly sacrificed your entire life for.

"Never look for me again. Don't call me. I don't want to see you." The rage in his eyes, the coldness, was a sharp contrast to the soft hazel orbs you had fallen in love with long ago.

*SNIKT* As fast as his claws had appeared, they were gone. You finally allowed yourself to breathe. It's short lived, because he's soon up in your face again, a disgusted sneer on his features.

"Now. Get out of my life." His breath smelled like tobacco and alcohol, all mixed together. He had been drinking himself to oblivion again. You let the tears fall. You didn't recognise the man in front of you. Your husband.

"GET OUT." He roared in your face, making you wince.

He turned around and left you behind without sparing a single glance, in the empty parking lot of that dive bar in the middle of nowhere.

That was the last time he would see you in many, many years.

Logan woke up sweating and with his heart hammering in his chest. It had been so long since the last time he had dreamed about you. About that fateful night.

He grips the couch so tightly, he's going to tear the cloth. His hands were shaking as he felt the too familiar hole inside his chest reappear. He needed a drink. He had to drink. This never happened when he was drunk.

Stumbling over his own feet, he made his way towards the fridge, opening it with more violence than necessary. With his heart in his throat, his eyes searched manically until they set on a single can of beer.

That would have to do. For now.

He tried to calm his overwhelming thoughts with a single gulp, nearly drinking more than half of the can; focusing on Althea's snores from across the hall. Whatever distracted him long enough to avoid thinking about-

You.

Your soft smile. Your encouraging words. Your endless support through all his mishaps and hardships.

How gorgeous you had looked in that white dress when you walked down the aisle towards him. How great you had made him feel, like he was the luckiest man on the planet.

How he had completely fucked things up.

No matter how hard he tried to keep his memories of you at bay, his treacherous heart kept going back to you.

He wondered how you were doing. If you got that promotion you wanted.

Did you still kept your endless collection of air fresheners that drove him insane? Were you living in a better apartment than the one you had?

Did you remarry? Were you two actually divorced? He didn't remember signing anything at all. His teeth clenched at the thought of anybody else having you.

He shook his head.

What right did he had over you? After everything he had done, all the pain and trauma he pulled you through, what made him think he had any say on who you choose to spend your life with?

He wasn't the man he wished he was for you. The one that you deserved.

Yet...

He was here. He had been given a second chance to pull his head out of his ass and do the right thing. Out of all the better suited Wolverines there were out there, Wade picked him and turned him into a different man.

He was a completely different man from the one he was back then. The one torn with rage and grief. That monster, murderer, he was long gone, locked away, he would make sure of it.

He looked towards Wade's bedroom. He knew the sneaky bastard hid some of those dimension-travelling tablets somewhere in his bedroom. Knowing him, it would be probably the dirtiest and grossest corner where he would be sure Logan would never look.

He titled his head. A dangerous idea forming in his mind.

Could he?

Would he actually dare?

What if he just took a small peek. Just to make sure you were alright. You didn't have to see him. And he could return home with the knowledge that you were alright.

It was a terrible idea. A dangerous idea. But if the Wolverine was known for anything, it was for barreling into danger first and asking questions later.

He just needed to find the right moment.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Simon looked over at you and found you watching the scattered couples dancing across the dance floor. He watched as your beautiful smile fell, a forlorn expression making its way to your face.

Simon sighed, knowing what was going through your head. The two of you had been together for quite a while now, and Simon knew he wasn't the most hands-on boyfriend. It was something he was trying to work on, and he was blessed to have someone as patient as you by his side.

He wanted to be that guy for you. The guy who wanted to dance with you without a shred of hesitation. The guy who would shower you with kisses after a long day. The guy who would hold you close just because. Simon was nothing if not persistent, and he vowed he'd strive to be the man you deserved.

Swallowing his pride, he stood to his feet and made his way over to you, his tall figure towering over you. He looked down at you, a ghost of a smile touching his lips as he took in your glowing smile.

"Hey, Si."

He felt his heart pounding with the way you were beaming up at him. Your smile never fails to make his hard exterior crumble in seconds.

"Hey, kid."

"It was such a beautiful ceremony. The bride is stunning, Soap is a lucky man." You spoke, gesturing to the Scotsman dancing with his new bride on the dance floor.

"She's nothing compared to you." Simon's voice was soft, and you felt your heart skip a beat at his words.

Simon let out a chuckle at your expression as he held out his hand to you. "May I have this dance?"

You blinked a few times, shocked at his request. The two of you hadn't danced together before, and Simon wasn't much for public displays of affection. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure." He smiled down at you, watching as you slid your small hand into his.

He led you out onto the crowded dance floor, maneuvering past the abundance of swaying bodies before settling on a semi secluded spot on the corner of the room.

His hands landed awkwardly on your waist as his eyes darted along the other couples dancing. His palms began to grow sweaty as it fully hit him that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

What was he supposed to do? How did the other guys on the floor make it look so effortless? He couldn't bare to look at you. He knew he wasn't doing it right, but he was trying desperately to figure it out for you.

"Si? Are you okay?" You asked, your brows furrowing in concern. "We don't have to do this."

"I've.. I've not danced with anyone before. Not like this." His eyes shifted back down to yours, his brown orbs packed with raw emotion reserved only for you. "I don't want to embarrass you."

Your heart tugged at his quiet confession. It wasn't often he was vulnerable with you. Uour hand came to cup at his cheek softly, causing him to lean into your touch. "You could never embarrass me."

Your hands moved to grasp his, shifting them comfortably on your lower waist, before clasping your own around his neck. "Just move with me. Whatever feels right."

Simon's nerves began to wash away as he grew more comfortable with his movements. The two of you swayed slowly to the rhythm of the song, playing softly in the background.

He took cues from the men and women around him and caught you by surprise when he pulled away from you for a moment, just long enough to twirl you around under his arm.

You let out an elated giggle as he pulled you back into him, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before his eyes landed on yours once more.

His eyes never left yours as he stared at you with sincere admiration. The love he felt for you in that moment was unlike anything he'd ever felt in his life. His mind flitted to thoughts of the small blue box containing his mother's wedding ring sitting in his night table.

His eyes flickered to your hand, and he smiled at the thought of the ring sitting on your finger. The moment he looked back at you and your beautiful smile, he knew he was going to put that very ring on your finger.

"I love you, Y/N." He spoke suddenly, as his emotions bubbled in his chest. He could feel tears begin to pool in his eyes as he watched your awed expression.

"I love you too, Simon Riley. More than you will ever know." You replied, tears of your own trickling down your cheeks.

The next song began, but Simon didn't let you go. He kept you there for the duration of the next song, then the next one, and the next. He'd have danced with you until dawn if you'd let him.

People began to pile out of the reception awhile later, but Simon and you remained in your corner of the room, in your own world.

Your surroundings were lost on you as the only thing that mattered in that moment was the way Simon Riley was staring at you, like you were the only thing that mattered to him in this world.

And unbeknownst to you, you were.

[styxwanderer]

The Wrong Fake Identity | Twisted Wonderland [pt.6]

part 1 Part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 <part 6> part 7

[A for Abduction, B for Bribery]

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*

Word of you secured in the dragon’s and his herds arms spread wide. Some were brought to despair, some are brought to joy, some are brought to anger, some are even more determined.

“Of course the final boss would be the dragon, but there is nothing me a genius can’t do hehe..”

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

“Silver! How do i look!” You enthusiastically walked up to him, now dressed in the black and green uniform. 

“..it.. it looks good on you, y/n.” The precious boy stammered. His unique orb staring at you.

You had no idea why, but you felt yourself wanting to hug the silver haired boy, or maybe sleep on top of him. You just need to get him to lie down first.

“Come, we should show father and malleus!” 

“Alright.”

You intertwined your hand with his as you cling to him. Silver was shocked out of his mind from your boldness, even more so when you started purring in his hold, but he wouldn’t mind it either, it’s just a matter of keeping his heart steady that he mind. He could bow hear his heart beating in his ears, he just hope his complexion is not as obvious as his heart is.

“We are back father, Malleus.” 

“Oo welcome back—“ the both of them stood shock at your close proximity with silver, even so when you start to rub your cheeks against his biceps. 

“Aaa~ it seems this little kitty is very attached to you silver, after all you had been very good with animals.” Lilia can’t decide if he should be proud of his son or be jealous that he is favored by you. He had agreed to share you, but that doesn’t mean you can have favorites amongst them. 

Malleus was jealous, he had known you longer than silver but why must you choose silver? That’s alright, he would just prove to you that he is much kore deserving of your favour than the silver haired boy. 

“Child of man…” sitting in his throne, he called to get your attention, trying to get you to come to him. 

You ignored him, silence filled the room making silver sweat a drop, not wanting to offend his Leige. This makes malleus hurt.

“Come kitty, you can’t act so spoiled. When your king called you, you need to acknowledge him.” Lilia pried you off his son, sensing the jealousy that bubbles up the dragon fae.

“Malleus hold this.” Lilia throw a mouse toy connected to a string. This caught your attention, you begun to approach the dragon.

“Oh?! You wanted to approach me now that i have this? Interesting indeed.” Malleus swish the stick back and forth. Your head, of course follow. 

You leap to the toy trying to catch it, but Malleus had retracted the toy to his hand holding it. Your eyes remain slitted as you readied yourself.

“Oh?”

You pounced to his lap shocking the trio. In a reflective movement, malleus had stretched the hand to the air, and accidentally dropped it. 

“Oh no-“

You being a spoiled naughty cat you are deciding the best course of action is to jump over malleus, your feet stepping on top of his head, between his horn and leaped behind him to catch your prized mouse.

“Nyaa~” you meowed amused with your catch. The room once again become silent, 

“Ahahahahahha, how brazen this cat is, i have never had anybody even dared to think of stepping my head. Me, the heir to the briar valley. How amusing~”

“Hahahha.. if sebek is here he will either foam in his mouth, or have a mental breakdown, maybe both.” Lilia laugh

Silver too joined in, finding your boldness endearing and adorable, he wouldn't mind  if you had stepped on his head too. 

you returned to Malleus lap, finding it comfortable enough, this had made Malleus ecstatic tho he tried his best to hide it. you finding your foot print to be dirty and half guilty over your action decided you need to clean your mistake, you licked the top of his head grooming his hair back to its proper state. 

a prince can't have a messy hair! 

"oh my! your bravery is very admirable! The soldier in briar valley ought to learn a thing ir two from you." lilia mused

"lilia.."

"hmm.."

"how long does it take to plan a wedding.”

“Ohh my! Well it might take a year or two. But with a skillful fae it could take a day or two.”

“Malleus, is it not too early? We are still at school.” Silver chirped in.

“Doesn’t matter, they had accepted me as hers.”

“But-“

Malleus haul you up and spins you around. The blushing fae is spinning the room with you, still confused of the situation and more preoccupied with the toy in your hand:

“We shall be wed And have a kid or two. Our wedding would be the most magical! What a dream come true~”

Even though silver and lilia are a bit jealous that Malleus are abled to gain the title your husband, they wouldn’t mind at all since a king’s job would be plenty, and of course there should be somebody looking over you while your beloved husband is away. 

With Malleus preoccupied to plan the wedding he have silver and lilia to look over you, your over energetic drive have driven both lilia and silver out of their energy. 

“Oh no..” silver said mid playing as he felt himself getting drowsy and drowsier. Then  silver passed out on the floor.

“Noo.. you can’t leave me Silver, haaa-“ 

Lilia looked back at you thinking he have to continue to play with you alone but to his surprise you just walked toward silver before curling up on top of his abs and enjoying the boy’s warmth.

“ i guess the whole cat mouse game had also tire you out.” 

A rumble in your stomach became a bell to lilia.

“Oh! You are hungry too? What a demanding kitty, what can i do? I shall make you a grand fiest.” 

You were about to protest but all is too late since lilia bolted out of the room.

“I should just topple the plate over once he comes back for bow i shall enjoy this nice pillow” you thought.

“Psst…”

“PSSSSTTTTTTT…..”

There is a voice again, you looked around to find the source. A hand then came out of the big door.

“Come here kitty kitty kitty~~~” it whispered 

“What is this smell?” You thought 

“It smell, so… so very..”

“Nice!” 

You bolted towards the door to find the source of such delectable smell.

“Idia?? Nice to see you here! Also.. heyy~ what’s that sticking all over you? It smells so good~” 

You grow closer and closer to the guy sniffing him up and down. Idia is standing nervously, he had somehow managed to stick a lot of catnip all around his clothes hair and body, stuffing as much as he can inside under his jacket of course.

“It..it doesn’t matter, the smell, its just something special for you..” his voice getting lower towards the end.

“Ohh! Idia you are the best!” You hugged the now pink flame haired boy. 

“Eh uhm not really.. haha.. so you would want to come with me righht? Ill give you lots of these if you come with me.” The nerveous boy had somehow snapped his personality to a cocky bastard. 

“Yess! YES! Where should we go?” 

“Just follow me!” 

You are latching yourself to Idia as you give his occasional rub on his neck, his arm, his chest, sniffing the delectable smell. 

You had been successfully stolen by the timid boy. 

Once malleus and lilia came back and finding the passed out silver and not a single strand of your hair in sight, a thunder roars through diasomnia. This snaps Silver out of his dream. 

“FIND HER, and punish those who dare to steal from me!” 

“Yes, malleus.”

“What is this smell?” 

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

Meanwhile in Ignihyde,

“Awhh whose the good kitty?” 

“Me! Me!” 

You had a brad new collar, a blue triangle patterned collar with a beautiful silver charm, which engraved “ property of Idia, please return” on the back side of it. You are given a comfortable ignihyde uniform. You are nuzzling Idia in his room, enjoying the comfort of his body and the addictive smell. 

You hug him close rubbing yourself everywhere around his body, sniffing him close. You can never get enough of his smell. 

“I am the best, i am a genius. Not even the final boss can win against my brilliance” Idia thought, patting himself on the back for his brilliant idea. No body could rival his brilliance he manically laugh inside. 

He decided to play his  game in his bed as you latch to his torso, sitting in his lap. The both of you comfortable with each other. A peck of pink flame always colouring Idia’s hair. 

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

“Ignihyde dorm leader had taken y/n away from him.” The news spread. 

“That guy?!!” Ace half-shouted shock.

“Well he is quite a cat lover, Still we have to get y/n back!” Grim grumbled

“HOW DARE HE STEAL THEM AWAY FROM MY LEIGE!!” 

“We hafta to et em back! “

“Uhmm.. to get them away from my brother.. is going to be quite hard..” Ortho ponders.

“A! Its because you are on his side isn’t it!” Ace accused.

“Not its not!! Its just the fact that Idia manage to steal them away from the final boss means that he also come prepared, like a final boss.”

“What ever would make them go with that guy.” Deuce ponders. 

“Delivery for Idia shroud.”

The five of them glanced back at the rabbit delivery courier. 

“Oh! Deuce! Nice to see you here.”

“Nice to see you too, can we help you with something.”

“Ah its just, do you know where to find idia shroud.”

“Oh yes he is my brother.”

“Is that so, well i got a package, I don’t know where to drop it off, he said he is going to meet me but i guess he lost track of time.”

“Geez typical of my brother.”

“Right i will just leave the package to you, please sign here.”

“Okay.”

“And here is your package.”

“Uwaaaaa!” Ortho almost tumble down as he try to hoist the package up. 

“What is this? Why is it so heavy!!”

The courier had already left probably in a hurry.

“ hey.. that’s idia’s right?” Grim said.

“Yes..”

“The  he must’ve building something that capture y/n or some defense! If we get to know what he is building then we can defeat the final boss eaze peaze right?” Grim smirked

“Oh! Nice thinking! Now open the package!” Epel enthusiasticly said. 

“Wait! No! If brother know you went through his stuff! He will be mad!!!” 

“What he doesn’t know wont bother him!” Ace smirked closing in on ortho who is trying to protect his brother’s package.

“YES ! LETS UNCOVER WHATEVER THAT HUMAN IS PLANNING ON! HURRY HAND IT OVER!” 

“Im sorry ortho but this is for the best.” 

“NOOoooo..”

Jack hauled the box out of Ortho’s grasp as he open it. 

“Eugh this smell. Ah!” Jack had accidentally thrown the box down. Letting it’s content to spill.

“Hey! Computer program is very delicate ya know!”

“It isn’t computer program.” Jack answered.

“Huh?” 

“AAAAHHH!!!” A collective gasp were heard.

“Catnip?!!” 

“THAT BASTARD Is bribing my henchhuman!” Grim fumed. Even though, it smelled good, if you aren’t there to serve him he rather not have it. 

“ THAT BASTARD ID DRUGGING THEM!” Deuce yelled.

“That’s rude! My brother is not that low! He must’ve used this … for other reasons… probably..” 

“WHATEVER! Now this is ours we can used it however we liked, even to lure a certain cat!” Epel smirked.

“Nice thinking! Human!” Sebek.

“Oh what’s with the commotion here?”

“AAAHH!! Its Riddle, Trey, and Carter!!” 

“It is certainly noisy around here.” Azul and the tweek appeared 

“ stop yapping already, and what is this smell?” Leona said wincing his nose. Ruggie walking aside, hand behind his head. 

“Ohhh!! Is there something going on here?” The scarabia duo come in. 

“ what a troublesome thing, epel i expected you to be more reserved around these miscreant. “ vil and room has also joined them.

“Oya oya? Is there some sort of meeting we are not invited into?” The diasomnia trio appeared. 

“Ah look its the traitor group.” Leona taunted.

“Whatever shall we do to a grouo of traitor.” Azul joined in.

“A beheaded sure is filling for the crimes of betrayal is it not.”

“Truly it is, afterall  a dog that bites the hand that feeds them needs to be punished.”

“EEEKH!” 

“Hahaha, don’t be too cruel now you two, now that item, it’s idia’s is ot not?”Azul chuckle 

“Ooo? He is building something to building a project?” Malleus questioned

“My brother’s business is none of your business!!”

“Plus it’s finder’s keepers so HANDS OFF!”

“Oh still dare to bark?”

“Ohh look at all those catnip.” Lilia suddenly show behind them.

“ARGHHHH!” 

“Malleus could this possibly the smell from before?”

“Hmm.. It Is! Haaa unexpected of shroud, he dared to enter the dragon’s territory and claim his bride/groom? How terrible.”

“Ha? Whose bride/groom?” Leona retorted.

“Of course they should be mine, None of you know how to take care of them properly!” Vil joined.

The seven of them tried to escape but were soon caught by the tall huge juniors.

“Where are you going noww? I havent squeeze you all yet~”

“Hahaha, that’s true, floyd needs his fill for today.”

“Stop this little pups..” 

The potionlogy came with Crowley who was tied and forced to go whereever he is, Sam, Vargas, and also Trein. 

“Stop fighting against each other for once we have greater problem.”

“What is it?”

The first year could only sigh and surrender to  whatever fate is to come.

After the explanation the second and third year felt like hunting and mauling the crow. 

“Eekh! I told you im sorry already! It’s not my fault —“

“Its your fault ya kno..” Sam interrupted.

Vargas is trying to calm the boiling crewel.

“Ha, we need to catch them before the inspector comes and give them the antidote to their potion.” Trein concluded.

“This package, idia’s package might’ve proven to be useful to us.” Crewel said

“we need to come up with a plan.”

“Haaa, im sorry brother.” 

[ Words 2505]

>> to be continued<<

.·:*¨༺ ❈ ༻¨*:·.

[ maybe i should add tw: druging LOL]

Taglist:

@agaygothicmushroom

@feverish-dove

@jjsmeowthie

@losingmybrain

@mysticcyan

@valentinaagarcia

@fancyhawk45

@ayanokomu

@mel-star636

@haveneulalie

@lanxianschoenheit

@wisteriarose214

[yagirlraee]

PRADA BABY

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: satoru is a model famous for his gorgeously unique beauty. while you are an infamously well-known fashion designer known for your award-winning designs and style. but what will happen when his manager contacts you?

𝐰𝐜: 625

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏

"miss, there is someone at the door for you." your assistant, shoko, says, rushing into your office.

you look up from whatever sketch you were working on, placing your pencil down.

"let them in," you shrug. 

your assistant nods, turns on her heel, and struts out your office.

a few minutes later, a tall man with glasses and a tracksuit walks in. you stand up and walk around your desk, leaning on it.

"i'm yaga, masamichi yaga," he says reaching a hand out.

you firmly grasp onto his hand and shake it. he already knows who you are, so you don't have to introduce yourself.

"i have a model who i think would do amazing in one of your shows, his name is satoru gojo."

you nod while thinking about your schedule.

"well, i'd have to meet him first, how does thursday sound?" you say.

yaga nods immediately, "thursday is perfect, thank you so much miss."

he politely bows before turning around and exiting your office.

shoko scurries in after he leaves.

"so? what did you say?"

you look at her, furrowing your eyebrows.

"what do you mean..?"

"well, obviously the only reason mr. yaga would stop by is to offer one of his models. and being you're the best fashion designer out, it only makes sense that he gives you his best model." she rambles on.

you laugh and look down, "yeah, i said yes. i mean how could i not? it's a huge business opportunity."

shoko squeals in excitement before jumping onto you, enforcing a hug.

"i'm so excited!! we get to meet the satoru gojo!!

you scoff, "he's not that great."

she stops her celebration and looks at you.

you clear your throat, "i mean, is he?"

"yes!! HE IS!!" she shakes you back and forth, squeezing your shoulders. "and WE get to meet him!"

you laugh, "well, i have a meeting with him on thursday if you'd like to come with."

this offer causes her to jump even more, you're surprised she hasn't fainted yet.

"yes!! oh my goodness! i have to get ready!" she yells.

"it isn't till thursday?" you laugh.

"yeah but still. i have to look perfect if i want him to at least glance at me."

that much was true, satoru gojo was one conceited model of a man. he rarely ever looked at anyone unless it was himself. he always said nobody "deserved" his beautiful blue orbs. what a man he was indeed. you nod and send her off so she can get ready, and you let out this breath you didn't even know you were holding.

were you nervous? nah. you might be deep down inside, but for goodness sake you were the hottest fashion designer out right now. there is no way you should be nervous around him, having him in your show could earn you millions, and maybe something else.

you sigh as you start to pack up your sketches and art supplies. you decided to go home early to cool off all your nerves, which were on fire.

when you arrive home, and settle into your pajamas. you start texting a number which is yaga, according to your assistant, while sitting down on your sofa.

YOU: hey where would you like to meet on thursday?

YAGA: hello miss, how does the diner on 5th avenue sound?

YOU: that sounds great, i hope u don't mind but i invited my assistant.

YAGA: i don't mind at all, see you two there.

you put a heart on his message and click your phone off. thursday wasn't far away at all, it was only tuesday. you get up from your couch and head to your room, laying down and tucking yourself in for the night.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟐

loading..

[abadbitchblogs]

SOS

Part 1

Pairing: Jey Uso x OC x Damian Priest

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.6k

a/n: Ya girl is alive y’all! I wanted to revamp this because I felt like y'all deserved more! Thank you to everyone who has supported me and my work. I love y'all!  All likes, comments, reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated!

-divider by @cafekitsune

Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion as the entire roster hooped and hollered in  celebration of Trin’s return at the Royal Rumble. While shots, champagne and cocktails were being thrown back, all Amirah could do was watch the way her best friend humbly received the love she deserved with tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. It was such a full circle moment for her; comforting Trinity when leaving the company broke her, supporting her decision to join Impact! Wrestling, then experiencing the reception of her homecoming. Watching her fall back into the swing of things like she never left felt so satisfying. Before she could spiral into an emotional breakdown, a large hand waving in her face snapped her out of her thoughts making her scrunch her nose in confusion. “Aye, girl! You good?” Jimmy’s furrowed brows and jutted out bottom lip came into focus, immediately coaxing a laugh out of her. Jimmy was one person that you could count on to lift your spirits without even trying- he was the textbook definition of goofy.

“I'm good, promise!” If he doubted she was telling the truth, the content glimmer in her eyes deterred him from pressing the matter any further. Instead, she looped her arm with his and dragged him back over to their friends where they could enjoy their night out. Plopping down on the sectional next to Trinity, the group of superstars fell into easy conversation catching up with those who are on a different brand as they only see each other during the major PLEs. Somehow the chat turned into the couples pestering the single people; i.e Bayley and Amirah. Bay may have fought to defend herself, but she just found their concern amusing. “Listen. I don't treat being single like a punishment. I love being by myself. I aint gotta worry about nobody cheating on me, nobody resenting me for my career or trying to police my body.” No lies were detected as they all had no choice but to agree. Relationships in their business were hard whether you were with a fellow pro wrestler or a regular person. “Besides, the chances of finding real love like y’all are slim as hell!”

“I know that's right!” Bianca gloated; her and Montez’s reality show was doing so well that they were WWE’s IT couple. Mirah playfully chucked a straw at their girlfriend while Trin, Bay, and Jade were too busy laughing at her EST antics surfacing outside of the ring. “ What about you and Damian? I be seeing y’all posted up looking cozy?” The question got a chorus of ‘oooohs’ from the women, but Bayley  made a face of disgust at her friends’ insinuation. “Girl no. We're just good friends. That man doesn't have a committal bone in his body.” Amirah hummed in affirmation having heard the rumors about Damian Priest and his revolving door of women. “I'm honestly surprised that the two of you aren’t close. He's from New York, you're from New York. He's single and you've sworn off relationships. And I know you like them a little older.” The woman’s jaw dropped at Bayley’s insane attempt at matchmaking. “Girl are you trying to set me up with a sneaky link?” That sent all of the women into another uncontrollable fit of laughter. “You do need some dick.” Trin wheezed out, furthering Amirah’s appalled facial expression before she swatted her best friend’s arm. “You know what? I’m out of here.” A laugh bubbled out of her as she stood dramatically from their huddle only to turn and lock eyes with Jey Uso.

There he was hugging his twin with his chocolate orbs boring into her chestnut ones. Spinning on her heel,  she suggested the girls go down to the dance floor for a song or two. “Come on y'all. We can't let this night pass without shaking a lil something.” Clasping Trinity’s hands, she pulled her to her feet then tugged her towards the stairs with a “We’re going downstairs to dance for a little bit, Jim,” thrown over her shoulder. They scurried by without waiting for a response although she knew Jimmy and Montez were going to follow them anyway to keep an eye on the group. One of the things that Amirah and Trinity bonded over was their love of music and dance with both of them being former dancers. As much as Jimmy hated it when Trin showed her ass, he was going to have to suck it up tonight because they were owed some time to let loose. All that is holy must've been on their side because as soon as they made it to the center of the dancefloor, Twerk by the City Girls and Cardi B blared on the speakers. “Come on, Trin! Lemme see something!” It was always fun to get Trin and Bianca to cut up because Trin was going to kill it every time but Bianca had no damn rhythm. The club was playing banger after banger after banger after banger. If they weren't professional athletes, their feet and edges would be shot to hell. Amirah was throwing her ass back on Trinity, both of them cackling at Jade and Bayley trying to show B how to catch the beat when the tempo slowed to a ballad.  Of course it was a song that a nigga always dedicated to her to make her feel special and now it pissed her off.

This is for you, you, my number one This is for you, you, my number one Oh, yeah, yeah-yeah This is for you, you, my number one

Sucking her teeth as Jimmy giddily cut in for a slow dance with his wife, Mirah cut through the crowd to head back to their section for another drink when she bumped into the only person she did not want to see. His grills seemed to glow in the low light of the club but before he could get a word out, she took a sharp left in search of the restroom. A wave of nausea crawled through her body and she needed to gather herself after coming in contact with that parasite. Just when her hand grasped the doorknob of the ladies room for a moment of solitude, a large hand engulfed her other wrist pausing her movements. “Mirah…” She didn’t even need to turn around to know who the trifling ass voice belonged to. Calmly snatching her wrist from his hold, she shifted her weight to one foot with a snarl etched on her gloss coated lips. “I’m sorry. Do we know each other?” Jey’s eyes softened at her faux confusion as he took a step toward her and her, taking a step back to keep space between them. “Mirah, come on. I just wanna talk to you. I wanna explain myself.” His pleading only made the bile in her throat rise, making her face twist in disgust. 

“Nigga, you should’ve thought about talking to me before you just cut me off like I was some random bitch.” Her words dripped with malice in hope of it being enough to get him to leave her alone. “We ain’t got shit to talk about as far as I’m concerned.” Shoulder checking him as she walked by, not even wanting to be in the same building as him, Jey fought the urge to reach out to her again. He knew getting her to talk to him would be near impossible, but he was determined. Amirah was worth taking accountability and uncomfortable conversations. 

Amirah shuffled through the sea of bodies on the dance floor to find her friends and wish them a goodnight. Trinity spotted the agitated look on her best friend’s face immediately even though she tried to plaster a smile over it. “What happened, boo?” Trin’s brows furrowed in worry only to have Mirah wave it off. “Nothing! I’m good. I’m just going to call it night. That liquor ain’t sitting right in my stomach.” The lie came out faster than she could even register, but it wasn’t a total lie. That bastard did indeed make her sick to her stomach. “Oh okay! We’ll go back with you. I wanna make sure you’re okay.” Gesturing for Jimmy to come over to the two of them, Amirah shook her head in protest. “Hell no. You stay and keep celebrating. You deserve it! I’ll be fine! I already called an Uber and I’ll text you when I’m back in my room.” Pulling her bestie into a tight embrace, she gave her a fat kiss on the cheek before moving to hug their group of friends goodbye. Much to her delight, no one questioned her sudden decline of health too much, just the request of a text message to let them know when she got back to the hotel. With a promise that she would text them as soon as she got in, Mirah flew to the exit of the club like a bat out of hell. 

Sucking in a breath of fresh air, the feeling of relief washed over her soothing the queasiness that plagued her. The Florida streets were surprisingly peaceful at night, allowing her to fully collect herself and actually call an Uber so she just wasn’t standing outside of the club like a lame. As she pulled her phone out of her black purse, the club’s doors opened once more flooding the silence with music. A tap on her shoulder made her slap a friendly smile on her face in case it was a fan wanting an autograph or a picture. But, it was neither and her smile morphed into one of shock when she came face to face with Señor Money in the Bank. Damian was dark and broody so she did not expect to see him at a nightclub, but if his reputation precedes him then he was here for a woman- or two. “Señor Money in the Bank. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Wiping the shock off her face, she mirrored his playful and dare she say- flirty smirk. “Well I was by the bar when I saw you rush out so I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Feigning surprise, Amirah placed a hand over her heart and cooed at his sweet gesture. “Wait until everyone finds out that Señor Playboy is a gentleman.”

Her teasing pulled a chuckle out of him as he cocked a brow in question. “Playboy huh?” “Mhmm I’ve heard about you.” Laughing once more, Damian accepted defeat but pushed for info on his supposed playboy reputation. “So you’ve been asking about me?” Zeroing in on Amirah’s smaller frame with his almost charcoal gaze, it was her turn to laugh. “You wish.”  His smile broadened at her bratty comeback before he very noticeably gave her a once over. “¡Te ves hermosa.” Damian’s eyes met hers again with his gravelly voice scratching her brain deliciously. Maybe Bayley was right; he was fun. “Oh I know.” Mirah shot down his suave Spanish approach smugly, crossing her arms over her chest. “¿Hablas español?” “No, but you pick up a few things when you live in Harlem for a while.” 

Both intrigued and amused by the other superstar’s answer, Damian vowed to get to know her better in any capacity. “You know I was actually heading back to the hotel myself. Why don’t we share a ride? Uber is already on the way.” After contemplating getting in a car with him, Amirah pointed an accusatory finger at him. “If you insist, BUT no funny business.” Raising his hands in mock surrender, he flashed another cheek numbing smile at her. “Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” Slapping his chest for his dramatics, she couldn’t help her own snicker which he ate all the way up. 

Their Uber pulled up two minutes later and like the gentleman he was, Damian had helped her climb into the truck before getting in after she was comfortable. “So do you still live in New York?” He pried quietly while they enjoyed their ride back to the hotel. “Sure do.” She replied proudly, watching the palm trees go by as the car rolled on. “Me too. Maybe we could be travel partners.” Humming in thought, she turned to him with a soft smile. “Yeah maybe. I don’t know how often I can be seen with you in public though before people start talking.” He chortled at the woman’s response before giving his own, “Fair enough.” The rest of their car ride was occupied with a game of 21 questions about themselves and their interests outside of wrestling. Coming to a stop outside of the hotel, the pair thanked the driver for his service and Damian exited the car first on the other side to come around and help her out. She could only laugh to herself about him turning on the charm heavily. When they entered the elevator, Mirah noticed that the taller man didn’t press a button for his floor so she shot him a quizzical look. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t walk you to your door?” 

With a playful eyeroll she muttered a ‘whatever’ and let the space fill with a comfortable silence. At least she’d be able to get up early for a workout and the night turned out… interesting. A ding broke both of them out of their thoughts as they shuffled off the elevator on the 14th floor. Amirah could feel his eyes studying the swing of her hips while she led him to her room. Abruptly stopping at her door, Damian almost crashed into the back of her too focused on how she managed to walk in those killer shoes effortlessly. “This is me.” She stated, leaning against her door curious to see how the night would end. “Well I think my job here is done. You have arrived safely.” “That reminds me.” Before her friends put out an APB for her, she texted in their group chat that she had mad it back to her room. “Thank you for the escort. I appreciate it.” “It was my pleasure and if you don’t mind,” Damian carefully slid her phone into his hand and input his number. “You know in case I can be of service to you again.” Peering at him through squinted eyes she gave him a drawn out nod. “Riiiiiiiiight.” 

Smirking down at her for the last time, he gently took her hand and raised it to his lips for a kiss on her knuckles while gazing into her cocoa colored eyes. “M’lady, I bid you farewell.” And with that, he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall in long strides. Entering her hotel room and shutting the door behind her, Amirah collapsed against the door like women in romcoms. Girl what the fuck just happened. Taking in another deep breath, she headed to the bathroom for a much needed shower and to wring her damn panties out. Wait until she tells the girls about what just happened. Before she climbed into the shower to wash off the scent of booze, lust and worn leather, she shot the mysterious man a text of what she meant to say before he left her utterly speechless. 

{Princesa: Goodnight 🖤}

{Papi Chulo: Buenas noches hermosa 🖤}

mirrormirah

mirrormirah Your favorite athlete's favorite athlete 🖤

Liked by archerofinfamy, trinity_fatu and 482,719 others

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trinity_fatu THAT'S MY FRIEND 🥳

⤿ mirrormirah BEST FRIEND!!!! get it right!

biancabelairwwe the finEST

⤿ mirrormirah That's all you bby ❤️

theyluvjeannie80 I know that's right !!!!!

⤿ mirrormirah I luv you boo 😘

archerofinfamy 😈

⤿ mirrormirah 🥰

⤿ bossglowstandard oop 👀👀

jadecargill sexy af 🥵

⤿ mirrormirah trying to get like you 😋

Taglist:

@empressdede @wrestlingprincess80 @whatdoeseverybodywant @alichesmi @reci1996 @2-muchsauce @cyberdejos2 @southerngirl41 @brie-mode-activated @piinklemonad3 @lucidddreamerrr

[galebrainrot2024]

GalexFemYou Boat Scene 18+

Summary: FemReaderxGale NSFW 18+ on the boat in the astral plane after you and Gale discuss the crown. Tried to be a little slower and tender in this one. Done at the request of another, thank you for the idea! :) Content: Explicit and slow piv sex, Minors DNI!

Master List | Read on Ao3

“I don’t think I deserve you at times - I told you of my ambitions, the likes of which many would baulk at - and yet, you remain at my side. Permit me to show you something, please? Indulge me - a little boat voyage, that’s all.” 

Despite your hesitation, you obliged - Gale meant more than words could express and you knew you’d do whatever you needed to help him see that. 

“Astra navigabimus.” As he uttered the words, you felt your consciousness and body shift, pulling away from the material plane and cast elsewhere. It was jarring and surreal, yet you kept your eyes shut, trusting Gale implicitly. 

“Few mortals ever glimpse what you’re about to see,” Gale said in a husky, quiet voice as his warm hand engulfed yours. “Don’t be alarmed, I’m here with you. Open your eyes.” 

You inhaled, the air around you a chilled mist. Goosebumps undulated across your skin as your eyes fluttered open, absorbing the impossible swirls of purple and blue iridescence that surrounded you. As you drift on the small wooden boat, your fingers lithely traced the air, trying to capture the gossamer fog. 

You turned to Gale, his face bright and the impossible colors swirled in his dark eyes. “The outer planes… this is where gods dwell. Where they observe us from afar. Where they make play things of us.” He frowned, gesturing to the skies, “They would keep all of this from us - the power, the possibilities. They only want us to serve them, pray to them… die for them. What if we didn’t need them and welded their power instead to help ourselves in all the ways they refuse to?” Gale’s voice was thick with anticipation and delirium, “I could make that happen. I could make this illusion a reality… with you by my side.” 

You froze, gripped by the possibility of what he offered. You’d be lying if you said the thought wasn’t tantalizing… yet, as he sat here before you, pleading and desperate for approval, you knew that Gale - the man before you - was enough. He would always be enough. When was the last time he’d been told that?

Had he ever been told? 

“I don’t need the stars, Gale,” you laced your fingers with his and brought his palm to your lips, brushing them against the skin. “I have you.” 

Your romantic gesture fell on deaf ears as Gale insisted: “Then have me, but have the best, possible version of me. The tadpole, the orb, these threats to our existence, the gods could aid us if they wished and instead they cower behind Ao. With the power of the crown, any foe would be rendered impotent, any obstacle dwarfed by our might.” Gale sighed, clutching your hands like a penitent seeking redemption. “I used to believe Mystra was worth dying for. I was wrong. You showed me how much I have to live for. With you, I forget my goddess.” Your heart thrummed violently, threatening to jump from your throat and your body instinctively began to scoot forward, craving him. “I love you. Tell me you feel the same, that you want what I want… please..” Gale’s voice broke and you leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands and rested your forehead to his. 

“I love you for the man you are,” you said, brushing your lips tenderly to his and he shuddered, emitting a gentle groan. Your knees were flush to his and you moved forward, chasing the adrenaline that flowed through your veins like a raging river. 

“Think of what I offer, the vastness of eternity, the Weave at our fingertips… you’d really prefer me as I am?” Gale looked into your eyes, the dark pools beseeching earnestly for your truth. Could you mean it? 

“You’re everything I need you to be,” you murmured before allowing your fingers to twine into his hair, pulling him close as your lips captured his. His gentle moan ignited the blaze within you and you feel the heat between your thighs stir. 

Gale returned your kiss passionately, hungrily, a man starved with disbelief that mortality would be enough. “I hope you’re right. Godly power I can live without but you - you’re everything.” His hands ran up your thighs, brushing against the soft skin and teasingly trailed closer to the source of your desire. “You put the stars to shame… let’s sit here awhile, I want to drink you in.” He brushed his tongue across your lower lip before he sought entrance, your tongues gliding together in the familiar wonton dance. He tasted faintly of earl gray and something rich - perhaps a lingering flavor of the nights meal. 

Your bodies entangled with familiarity, and you felt Gale’s smirk widen against your lips. He pulled back for a moment to caress your cheek and rested his forehead to yours, “Would you be opposed to staying here a bit longer?” He murmured as his fingers traced the edge of your shirt, tickling your torso beneath. You shivered, feeling the electricity burn and you whimpered as his cool hands pulled the shirt over your head. He licked his lips as his eyes consumed you, his pupils blown wide with desire, his cheeks flushed a dark pink. You shook your head, the bitter mist shrouding you as heat swelled in your center. 

Gale leaned forward, his lips brushing against the freckles that littered your shoulder and your hands trailed under his shirt, lifting. He obliged, leaning backward as you slowly pulled his shirt off. Typically, Gale and you would ravage one another if given the opportunity. 

Tonight, though, felt different. You craved him tenderly, wanting each moment to be a standalone symphony. You traced the orb, how its tendrils licked up his neck and brought your lips to the pattern. He sighed, pulling you closer to him and the seats of the boat seemed to de-materialize as you and Gale stared at one another, admiring. 

A plush blanket appeared beneath you and you rose a brow curiously as your fingers ran over the sensual fabric. Gale wrapped his arms around your torso to pull you into his lap. Your legs circled his waist and you cupped his face in yours, allowing your lips to meet in a supple, painfully slow kiss. You moaned as his tongue sought yours, as he slipped it into your mouth greedily, your hips rolling against his for friction. You felt the girth between his thighs stir as your hips rocked and you pressed yourself tighter to him as the kiss deepened. The carnal need grew, rooted in your core as the lustful dance began. 

Gale’s lithe fingers hooked into the waist of your pants and you gasped, the iciness of his touch juxtaposing the primal heat pooling within you. He took his time unlacing your pants before pushing them unhurriedly down. His eyes flick down to your clothed sex and you heard him intake his breath sharply. Gale leaned forward, kissing you lecherously. Each move of his tongue was precise and painfully slow, and you felt your body begin to squirm impatiently. You felt him grin against your lips as he cupped your chin and pulled your face closer to his as his tongue indulged. 

Your fingers clumsily worked to remove his trousers and he chuckled, “Let me lend you a hand,” he said as his fingers grazed yours. He shook out of the pants and your eyes widened as you admired the firm tent pressed against his underwear. He guided your hand, slipping it beneath his underwear and he groaned as your fingers wrapped around his arousal. He was warm, firm and you felt a surge of dripping arousal soak your underwear. He groaned as your hand circled him and began to deftly pump, matching his agonizingly steady pace. His fingers sought entrance between the cloth of your undergarments and sex and trailed along your inner thigh, right where the seam met your skin. 

You mewled, grinding your hips against his, feeling his erection glide against your covered arousal. Your hand worked quicker before his hand covered yours, his breath hot and quiet as he murmured, “Let’s take our time tonight…” Your body was desperate, wanted to move with a vicious urgency yet Gale continued with such excruciating gentleness. A light brush would likely be enough to send you off the cliff. 

His fingers found their way beneath your underwear and you squirmed, seeking him and friction. He chuckled darkly before slipping his fingers away, “The more impatient you are, the longer I’ll wait…” he teased and you leaned forward, biting into his neck. The sinful noise that fell from his lips sent another wave of arousal through you. 

“Gale, please,” you begged, your wetness seeping from your underwear and onto his, leaving evidence of your need. Gale traced your lips with his fingers and you shivered, licking the fingers before you before pulling them into your mouth. Gale groaned, his hips bucking upwards into you as you sucked on his fingers. “Touch me,” you whimpered against his fingers and he brought his slick hand into your underwear. 

“Rather needy tonight,” Gale teased again and he moaned as his fingers slipped between your folds, “Gods, how divine… how eager you are for me…” as he slid his fingers between your thighs you rolled your hips, whimpering again. His thumb circled your clit, the movements unrushed despite your protests. Gale kissed you again as you gripped his shaft, encircling him as you toyed with him, wanting to feel him inside of you. Gale, as if reading your mind, said, “Have you been patient enough?” 

You shook your head, moving your hips, deprived of his fingers. You felt him slip a few into you then, stretching you slowly and massaging you. The sudden entrance made you shudder violently and your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers pressing into his back as you moaned. You nestled your face in the crook of his neck, biting down to stifle your unholy sounds. 

“No need to suppress yourself,” Gale murmured, pushing your hair back as he thrusted his fingers harder into you, forcing your body to tighten around him with arousal. “I want to hear you,” he demanded, pressing deeper into you and against the deepest source of your arousal. You cried out and bit down on his neck again. 

You lifted your hips, bringing them down onto his fingers and you mumbled against his neck, “I need you, I need more…” 

“Woe be it from me to deny you…” he murmured, pushing your underwear off your body and did the same to himself. He held himself for a moment, stabilizing as you brought your hips over his erection. Your hands gripped his shoulders and you gazed into his lustful, brown pools and felt him fill you. Your mouth watered as you brought yourself down deliberately only allowing the tip of him in. 

He whimpered, thrusting his hips up and you pulled back, smirking. “Why the rush?” You retorted and he growled, surrendering to you. You rolled your hips before bringing yourself fully over him, allowing him to stretch you full and welcomed him into your slick cunt. You both moaned as he filled you and he thrusted into you aggressively, gripping your hips. Your lips brush against his neck, his jaw, until your tongues are tangled again and he drove into you. Your bodies moved of their own accord now, both of you desperate for release and pleasure, the sensations overwhelming. Every fiber of your being thrummed with sin and you moved quicker, pulling him deeper into you and clenching around his erection. He moaned as you did, gripping your waist tighter, using his other hand to pull your hair back and kiss you. Sweat began to cover you both as your movements became carnal, needy - your breathing jagged and unsteady as you felt yourself swell with bliss and ecstasy. 

“I….” Gale moaned, the kiss sloppy and wet, “I… please…” his voice was raspy and deep as he thrusted violently into you and you cried out, begging for more, needing more. Abruptly he flipped you over so you were on your stomach, he hovering over you and pulled your hair back to kiss you. You moaned as you felt him enter you again from behind, your hips rolling backward to bring him further into you. He held your hair to steady himself, the pain from the pull overstimulating as he filled you. Your mouth was full of hot saliva and you whimpered as he grew more urgent, your bodies moving together in a steady, unholy rhythm. He pushed so hard against you that you felt a sharp pain and cried out, enough that he paused for a moment to whisper into your ear, “Are you alright?” And you nod, delirious from the pleasure, and you heard him whisper, “Come for me, then.” 

You press your face into the blanket and muffle your cries as he pumps deeper, harder, and his hand wraps in front of you for his thumb to circle your clit. It’s too much. You writhed and every cell in your body seized, tensing in preperation until you heard him groan gutturally, his hot climax filling you as your own climax roiled through you. The unadulterated bliss that pulsed through you was divine, both of your bodies moving in shared harmony, in your shared symphony of pleasure. Gale collapsed onto you, his lips pressing to your ear and neck as he murmured praises, how much he loved you, how much he adored you and when your breath returned to you, you rolled onto your back, cupping his face in your hands. “Mortality has its perks..” You murmured, your eyes fluttering shut as you smirked. 

Gale laughed, pulling you tighter to his chest, kissing your forehead. You settled into a comfortable silence, allowing the boat to rock you as you both marveled at how lucky you both were to have one another. “I can’t wait to explore your body a thousand more ways… eternity wouldn’t be enough for me.” 

[todoroki-waifu]

Can i request a story about the reader being in another school that is a rival of easton even though reader and rayne are a couple? Thanks💞 (im sorry if this is a weird idea i just thought it up in my head😅)

Note: Thank you for this! And it's not weird at all! It was a cute idea. Not sure how I feel about how I wrote this, but I hope you still like it. Also, Luke is a random character I made up.

Rayne x Reader

Warning: Female reader, cursing, and a guy hitting on/bothering the reader to be his.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count:828

------

Your excitement was increasing with every step as you approached Easton Academy. Your dorm mate is beside you, talking about today's event. There was a duelo match at Easton and your school was playing against them. Schoolwork had kept you and Rayne from physically seeing each other, but you still found ways to communicate. 

You and Rayne have been together for a little over a year now, but only a select few knew this. You both weren't ashamed of your relationship, but you agreed it was best to not announce it so loudly. You couldn't deal with people digging deep into your personal business and you knew it'd only fuel rumors and gossip since your boyfriend was from Easton. Despite your schools having history with each other, it didn't stop the two of you from falling for each other. 

"I have a feeling the match is gonna go into overtime." You hear your roommate as you search for your boyfriend. You planned on sitting beside each other to watch the game. 

"Yeah? You think?"

"I'm pretty sure! Both teams are at the top this season." 

"You're not wrong there." It didn't matter to you who won, you were more focused on being able to hug Rayne again. A voice shouts your name and your eyes target its source. You groan at the approaching male with his friends not too far behind, your roommate cursing at his presence. 

"Hey there, ___(y/n)! You ready to cheer me on?"

"Hey, Luke..." You forced out a polite smile. 

"We gotta go and grab some seats. Bye!" __(r/n) links her arm with yours, attempting to pull you away from Luke and his team. 

"Oh c'mon, stop cockblocking. I wanna talk to my girlfriend." Luke interferes with your escape route. 

"Don't call me that. I already told you that I have a boyfriend." You glare, your patience thinning rapidly the more you are around the duelo captain. 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're just playing hard to get." He slips between you and __(r/n), draping his arm over your shoulders. You immediately create distance between the two of you, your eyebrows knitting together. 

"No, I'm not. Just like how I've told you many, many times before, I'm happily taken."

"That's just a lie." Luke steps closer to you once again. "You're always saying that."

"And I'm going to keep saying it." You were praying that someone would just date this idiot so he'd finally leave you alone. But all the other girls knew better. 

"It's just that I've never seen or heard about him before." You feel your hand being taken in his and lures you close to his body. "If you really have a boyfriend, then where is he?"

"Right here." Fingers grip tightly on Luke's wrist, granting you freedom. You automatically knew who it was because only one voice made your heart jump. You whisper his name, your blonde and black haired boyfriend now blocking Luke's view from you. Scum like him didn't deserve to lay eyes on his girlfriend. 

"Hey man, let go!" Luke's shout attracts a large audience from both academies. “Who the hell are you?” 

"I’m ___(y/n)’s boyfriend.” 

“What? Yeah right! I’ve never seen you two together!”

“It is none of your concern whether you have seen us together or not. If she has told you that she was already dating someone, you should have ceased your annoying advances from the beginning.” 

It was almost as if Ranye’s golden orbs were eerily glowing the longer he held his gaze at the duelo captain. 

“Che, whatever! I ain't wasting any more time with you. I got a match to win.” Luke pulls his hand back, trying to rub the pain away without seeming affected by the Sword Cane’s strength. Rayne ignores his comment, for now, and tends to you immediately.

"Are you alright?" He inspects for any physical injuries and distress in your eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you." Rayne gently rests his hand on your cheek, rubbing the soft skin under his thumb. You smile into his touch, leaning into it. His lips slightly tug downard at the thought of you having gone through that boy's pestering for quite some time. Rayne heard you complain about your multiple rejections. He couldn't blame you since you respected the promise you both made in regards to hiding each other's identity. Also, knowing you, you didn't want to worry the magic blade user. 

Well, he couldn't allow that to continue. He breathes out your name, his other hand claiming your free cheek. 

"I think it's time to let everyone know our little secret." Rayne lays his lips over yours delicately, ignoring the various noises from the onlookers. You couldn't help but melt into his kiss, pressing yourself a bit closer to him. It felt so liberating and exciting now that you both can show each other off. He wanted it to be clear who exactly your mystery boyfriend was. 

[huramuna]

banshee's lament - chapter 11.

aemond targaryen x stark ofc minor jacaerys velaryon x stark ofc masterlist prev | next

wordcount: 3.8k

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! no taglists right now, sorry.

we are back! new act, new header! enjoy!!!

content: smut, angst, fluff, disabled ofc, aemond being delulu & obsessive, major canon divergence, graphic depictions of violence, death

story playlist

It was placid in the keep, like the still waters before the dew drips into a pool. But placidity can be deceiving. Aemond knows this– he’s always known it. It is exhausting, as a person, to keep your guard up at all times without respite. 

The previous night was a respite. A much needed change in flow, in focus. But he is suspicious of such a gift– mayhaps he doesn’t deserve it. He has always been damned. This very notion is why he awoke early in the morn from the deepest sleep he’s known in years… to an empty bed. 

Shera had gone. His head throbbed from how deeply the sapphire felt embedded into the socket, pressing at the tender teams of nerves that the maester said makes up one’s eye. He throws his legs over the side of his bed, twisting and turning until his spinal column cracks, somehow giving a sliver of relief.

Mayhaps I shall speak to her. His fingers, blistered from overworking the blade since Aegon was crowned, made quick work of his tunic. His outfit was a simple black undershirt and leather nightcoat. It was early enough in the Keep where dressing properly didn’t particularly matter– Shera’s chambers were a swift enough walk away, anyhow. He made his way hastily to the guest hall, which was bereft of guards. 

Odd. 

Upon opening the door, the momentary feeling of lightness and interlude in an otherwise rigid life, was snuffed out. Snuffed out like the dithering flame upon a bedside table, smoke swirling upwards until there is nothing but coldness. A chill ran up Aemond’s spine that could only mean one thing; something was wrong. 

The room was torn to shreds, blood splattered on the cobblestone floor like rose petals. His mind swam momentarily, heart squeezing in abject horror. Wrong, wrong, wrong. This is wrong. His boot squelched into the still drying pool of ichor as he descended further into the unfolding scene of gore and carnage. All of her things were broken, drawings strewn and stained, her dress stands were pushed over upon one another, and a cup of her tea was left half-drank, liquid absconded to the side. 

Picking up the cup, he inspected the remains of the tea leaves and murky fluid. His senses were overwhelmed by the pungent scent of milk of the poppy– and dreamwine. The leaves were soaked in the duo of medicinal regents, the combination of both only used in dire situations of pure agony, intended to keep the imbibed numb to pain— as well as the world around them, lulling them to a deep sleep and even a deeper sense of malleability. 

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

A low growl filled the room, Moongeist emerging from the adjoining bedroom. His hackles were raised, lip curled, showing off his bloodstained teeth. The whole of his muzzle was caked in the stain of flesh. 

“Where is she,” Aemond spoke, glowering at the giant wolf as if he were nothing more than a pup. “Where is she?” 

Moongeist’s hackles lowered as he sniffed the air, snapping his mouth shut. His amber eyes roved towards a mass in the corner of the room.  ‘Twas a man. Dead, with the fingers on his left hand ripped off, and his windpipe torn out. Aemond shifted the corpse with the tip of his boot, his expression dimming even more into a scowl. 

“I don’t give a shit about this sod,” he hissed to the wolf, his pupil constricting into a tiny orb hoisted over a violet sea. He knew he looked mad— he could feel the madness creeping further and further into him with each passing moment that he didn’t find Shera. “You didn’t do your duty, dog.”

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

The wolf whined, a warbling noise that turned into a growl as he nosed some of his master’s strewn items on the floor. 

“You’re useless!” Aemond’s voice raised above its usual whispery tone, the rage bleeding into him like he was a stuck pig. “You had one duty— to protect her,” his hands balled into fists, unsure whether he was yelling at the dog or himself. “You fucking failed.” 

His own visage caught his eye on the shattered mirror. He looked crazen, as if he were to sprout wings and claws like Vhagar and burn the world down in search of her. 

Mayhaps he would. 

—

‘Tis so quiet, she thinks. So quiet— like death. Am I dead? 

She walks along the darkness, soles skimming a pool of cool water. There’s ripples in her wake, reverberating out into nothingness. She feels fine. It’s disconcerting, in a way, how normalcy in itself can feel abnormal. Shera is able to stand steady on two feet without assistance or hindrance, her sight wide and clear as she gazes to the void. 

Death isn’t much like they say it to be, now is it? Not so cold, but not so fiery either. 

A glint catches her eye— the infinite void to her side has formed itself into a door. Not just a door, but a hallway with a myriad of cracks of light. 

A myriad of choices. 

Her hand stills on the knob closest to her. It is ornate bronze, deep grooves worn into the metal from much use. A small twist, and the gateway gives in. 

The sunlight is blinding, more bright than she remembers. There is a pleasant sting in her eye as it adjusts from the total encompassing darkness of nothingness to the ever growing, lilting palette of everything before her. 

The place seems familiar but Shera cannot quite place it, as if it is an amalgamation of many places she’s been before— so close to perfection but in all totalities completely wrong. It was a garden with all of the flowers in bloom, grapevines growing up the trellising walls to escape, to mayhaps grasp the sun. There is a faint scent of sea air and she can almost feel the spray of a rogue wave crashing against the seawall. 

Bare feet pad onto the cobbled walkway deeper into the terrace, fallen petals wilting under her. She leans to a honeysuckle plant, rubbing its leaves between her thumb and forefinger. Upon closer inspection, the flower is home to insects. 

No, not home. It is made of insects. 

Beetles, millipedes and caterpillars writhe under her touch. The flying bugs buzz around her, their fussing akin to anger, their temper flaring with every step of her trespassing. 

“‘M sorry,” Shera whispers, hastily wiping her hands down the front of her chest. “‘M sorry,” she continues as she slowly backs away, back the way she came. As she makes her escape, the garden oasis withers. It begins to decay before her eyes, maggots and blowflies feasting on the rotting remains of the plants. 

Back into the darkness, she slams the door behind her. Just before it fully closes, the image of a barn owl crunching upon a locust is her final glimpse.  The errant buzz of parasitic and opportunistic gnats rings in her skull like a taunting song. She almost trips over her own limbs as she backs away slowly, stomach wringing itself into knots. 

Onto the next door, the knob is a curved ring, better suited for knocking rather than just opening. It would be rude to come in uninvited, wouldn’t it? 

Shera wraps the door three times, each wrap more thunderous than the last. The door is hewn from an odd red wood, the hinge creaking as she walks in. It’s suddenly warm— not unlike the warmth and breeze of King’s Landing, but decidedly different, the hum of a distant roar reverberating in her mind. 

“Hello,” a small voice piqued. It belonged to a young girl, no older than six years old. Her hair was a pale silver, violet irises wide with trepidation. “Are you one of Ser Willem’s friends?” 

The appearance of the girl struck Shera like a bolt of lightning— she was of Valyrian descent, surely, but she didn’t recognize her. She shifted her weight uneasily between two feet as she stared at the child. “Ehm,” she muttered. “I am, indeed— a friend of Ser Willem’s.” 

The girl held her hands behind her back and mimicked Shera’s nervous swaying, but in a decidedly more childlike fashion. “He is sleeping. He sleeps a lot,” she said, tilting her head towards a hallway. “Would you like to see my room?” 

Something in Shera’s chest rattled against her ribcage as the child spoke. She felt a certain keen sense of terror, feeling that she did not belong here. And yet— she took the girl’s hand in her own as she was led down a corridor. 

“I have my very own room. I usually have to share with my brother or with a lot of other people. Sometimes it is not a room at all,” the girl pauses, tugging Shera gently to the open window. “I even have my very own window. I like to look at the lemon tree.” 

“Do you like lemons?” Shera asked, staring at the one lone lemon tree that stood stalwart. 

“They are… yucky by themselves. Viserys tricked me into biting into one like an apple,” she pouted. “It was quite mean.” 

Viserys? Shera’s heart floundered. “Viserys? Is that your brother?” 

The girl nodded. 

Shera did not recall Viserys and Daemon having a sister. Her mind swam as she stared at the girl, then the open window. “You must forgive me— I have forgotten your name.” 

“Daenerys. My brother calls me Dany.” 

Wrong, wrong, wrong. In learning High Valyrian with Aemond all those years ago, they had also extensively studied the winding circled wreath of the Targaryen family tree— as muddled and messy as it may be, Shera could recall no Daenerys. 

That creeping fear that had nestled into her body as soon as she saw the girl began to grow— grow into an ever engulfing beast. ‘Twas the same feeling she had when she saw the vision of Rhaenyra and Viserys talking about Aegon’s dream. The feeling that she was trespassing on something, being somewhere she was never meant to be. 

That sensation gripped her wholly, her body moving faster than her mind as she fled Daenerys’ room, towards the red door that led out. 

“W-where are you going?” Daenerys whimpered, following behind Shera quickly. “I’m sorry— did… did I do something? Please don’t go.” 

Shera turned the knob, stepping halfway out of the abode and into the darkness. She looked back at Daenerys— she was engulfed in flames, shadowed by a hulking black mass of writhing scales and dread come again. 

When she fled back into the abyss fully, the red door closing behind her as flames licked the wood, her consciousness faded. 

She was done dreaming.

—

The twisting of her rings was a nervous habit that Rhaenyra never broke. It would be a fruitless effort to do so, as she would pick up some other compulsion in a similar fashion. Tearing out strands of hair from the root, pressing crescent indentations upon her skin from her nails— or mayhaps, picking the skin around the nail bed until they are red and bloody. That one seems familiar to her. 

Her hands now, however, aren’t occupied upon twisting her rings at the moment. They’re splayed over her stomach, palms playing over the stretched skin. The maesters say she is due any day now, ‘tis only a waiting game. 

How she desires for a daughter, so wholeheartedly. 

Something pulls at her. The hour is late and Daemon’s side of the bed is cold, blanket still in the same position from the morning. It's an odd, inexplicable tug to something that has her out of the room and meandering down the hall with a candelabra. The shadows dance upon the ancient stone, casting light upon the deep cracks. 

As she descends through the castle, the logical and queenly part of her mind is in protest of her current situation. A heavily pregnant wife shouldn’t go looking for her husband in the middle of the night. And yet— the other part of her brain, the one that had an insatiable thirst for truth had her driving forward. 

Hushed voices hummed low towards the sequestered guest chambers. From the inflection and cadence, one of them was Daemon. The other, hurried and blathering like an anxious mouse, was unknown to her. 

“Y-you set us up for failure, Daemon! I nearly lost my own life— you didn’t tell us of the beast!” the mystery voice quipped, quivering in pissant fear.

“Pity you didn’t lose it, then. I told you what I needed from you and what you needed to do. Any other extraneous details are unnecessary.” Daemon responded coolly. 

Rhaenyra walked closer to the open door, heavy candlelight illuminating from within. She hastily blew out her own. 

“Unnecessary? You’re mad! Outright bonkers! I… I want double the pay— n-no, triple! As compensation for the hazard to me life!” 

“You’ll receive what we agreed upon.” 

“I need more! Or— or I’ll go back to King’s Landing and tell the King what happened! He’s fond of that little thing, isn’t he? Or mayhaps his brother, with the giant drag—“ 

The man’s voice was cut off, silenced by what Rhaenyra could only assume was a blade. The sound of his body crumpling and soft gurgling confirmed it. She stepped into the room, fisting her skirts. The mystery offender was now divorced from his head, akin to the way Vaemond had been. Daemon was wiping the blood and viscera off of Dark Sister upon the bedsheet. The bed in question, however, was not unoccupied like she had thought it would be. 

The small, crumpled form of Shera Stark, identified by the undone length of curls falling by her wayside, was unconscious upon it. 

Rhaenyra blinked profusely, heat rising within her as she tried to piece together exactly what was going on. 

Daemon let out a soft sniff, “Bloody idiot.” 

“Daemon? What… what is this?” 

“What does it look like? The key to the North.” he sneered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Rhaenyra’s hands came together as she loosened the ring on her pointer finger. “She does not look like she is a willing participant in being here.” 

From the looks of it, the girl was hardly breathing. Her chest rose and fell in such shallow lengths that it took a moment to register if she was even alive at all. 

“I doubt she would be. I did what needed to be done.” 

“What… needed to be done? No, I don’t think you’ve begun to count the errors you’ve made here. Did… did you even think of the consequences, Daemon?” Rhaenyra started, her face emanating a red-hot heat, only continuing to warm as she twisted her ring with a violent, fervent nature. 

“Consequences? I’ve brought her here to solve our problems, Rhaenyra. Do you think that honor-bound Northerner Cregan Stark would still fight for you as Queen if you broke your oath to keep his sister safe? He very well may kiss Otto Hightower’s hairy sack just for his sister to return to him. We won’t win this war without the North. And we won’t have the North without the girl.” 

“There is no war yet! I am still awaiting responses from Alicent on how we may resolve the… misunderstanding of crowning Aegon in my stead. You… you’ve only fanned the flames of something you have been brewing for years against the Hightowers. Cregan is an honorbound man, he swore an oath.” 

“I am merely thinking ahead, Nyra! Oaths are broken as easily as they are made. Alicent is no friend of yours any longer, you’re no longer a girl! As if we can count on any lies coming from that cunt. You have a blind side for Alicent, Rhaenyra, you always have!”

“And even so— you’ve stolen Shera in the night. From what your… accomplice said, ‘twas a messy fight. What do you think, my half-brother Aemond shall think, when he comes upon Shera’s rooms in disrepair and bloodied?” She narrowed her gaze, trying to keep a hold on herself. “You’ve brought ruin to our doorstep. We both know what he is and what he can do, you know he favors her— all he has to do is mount Vhagar and rain fire upon us! You have invited that possibility to our home, to our family!” 

Daemon was silent for a moment, jaw clenched and lip twitching ever so slightly. He glanced over at the unconscious girl, brow furrowed. “We need to satisfy the oath you made to Lord Stark. The betrothal will be fulfilled,” he kept wiping his blade on the sheet, even far after it was clean. “They must marry on the morrow.” 

“The oath,” Rhaenyra echoed, voice suddenly hollow. “Marry— she is not even conscious, Daemon. She won’t even be able to recite the vows or cut Jacaerys’ lip.” 

Her husband let out a scoff, a sound so synonymous with who he was. “There won’t be a Valyrian ceremony, even if she was completely well. Needn’t any more Andal blood mingled than is already necessary,” he finally sheathed his sword. “It will be done as quickly and painlessly as possible. Lord Cregan will need to hold up his side of the oath forthwith.” 

Rhaenyra worried her lip between her teeth until she tasted copper. “You cannot make these… rash decisions without coming to me first. I will not tell you again, Daemon.” 

Daemon, surprisingly, acquiesced— verbally, at least. He stared at her for a few heartbeats with a hard glint in his eye before bowing out of the room. 

— 

He had no need for riding leathers, no need to put his hair up, no need for his eyepatch. All he required was his sword and his rage. 

Servants and highfolk alike plastered to the walls as Aemond parts through them like a ship’s masthead, whispers and aghast looks glazing against his hull. He isn’t calculated and cold like usual, as is his reputation around the Keep. His aura is rash and filled with churning lava, sparks threatening to singe any who stray too close. 

The wolf follows behind him— for a reason that Aemond cannot quite understand— Moongeist stays five feet behind him, but matches his fervor and drive. The pair of them are an unlikely duo— and yet, they are unmatched in their combined terror. 

“Where are you off to, brother?” Aegon interjects suddenly, flanked by his newly appointed Kingsguard lackeys. The crown sits low on his brow– coming back from a council meeting where he most likely received a tongue lashing from mother and grandsire alike.

“I’ve need of something,” Aemond answers, words short and clipped. 

Aegon’s brow raises as he inspects his brother, seeing Moongeist’s hulking form behind him. “You know what they say about lying with dogs, brother,” the king continues, in his faux laissez-faire tone that he is ever so fond of. “You will get fleas.” 

“They took her.” the prince said— flatly, dejectedly, detached. The single strand of self control still tethered within him straining. The thread was unraveling bit by bit with each word, each moment wasted.

“… what?” Aegon whispered, the varnish of his empty words fading away. 

“They. Took. Her.” Aemond repeated, looking up at his brother. 

Aegon paused, no doubt feeling the heat and blood rising within him at the revelation. “W— wh—,” 

“They took her right under our noses, Aegon. As if she was a dessert for a child to pilfer,” the prince’s hand flexed and unflexed, itching for his sword. “I am going to retrieve her.” 

“Retrieve her? And do you know exactly who took her? Where she’s been taken to?” Aegon leaned in, brow knit. “Or are you just planning to abscond on your dragon and burn down Westeros until you find her?” 

Aemond did not respond for a long moment. “You and I both know who did it. And you know they lie right across the bay upon Dragonstone. An easy enough conquest for Vhagar.” 

“What shall you expect upon your arrival, brother? For Rhaenyra and Daemon and their endless brood of brats to kneel at your feet? ‘Oh, please, we are so sorry for taking your ambiguous lover, please don’t burn us!’” Aegon’s hands clasped together in mock sympathy. “You and I both know that Daemon would rather incinerate everything around him than kneel to you or I. Mayhaps even his own wife.” 

“Something must be done, Aegon. They will think us— me— weak for letting them waltz in and take what is mine.” Aemond continued to pace, his body spun tight like a taut spring, half ready to bolt through the hall at a moment’s notice. With each passing moment, the copper spring strains as his patience lowers and his rage simmers.

“It is really disconcerting when I am the levelheaded one here, Aemond,” the king continues, stopping his brother’s pacing with a firm hand to his shoulder.

“So you propose we do nothing? Let her lie in that den of… traitors?” 

“I never said we would do nothing.”

— 

Drip. Drip. Drip. 

The neverending sound of water splattering onto the floor is the ballad of the ancient castle— most of it in disrepair and ruin from the hot malice of dragonfire. 

“A raven arrived from King’s Landing, early this morn,” the pageboy offered the slightly damp letter to the current castellan, Ser Simon Strong.

“Aye, thank you Tomas. Be sure to get yourself some porridge, keep your bones warm.” Simon grinned, the deep wrinkles of his face lifting in mirth. He split the seal which was embossed in the symbol of some bug or other— he couldn’t quite identify which house the sigil was from. 

His eyes scanned the paper, which was not addressed to him. Rather, it was addressed to another resident of Harrenhal. The scriptures upon it was not of the Common dialect, only bits and pieces of words with some odd runic language.

“Alys!” the older man called. “I know you’re skulking about out there. I believe this letter is for you.” 

Peering from the doorway behind him, a woman slunk to his side, her movements swift and precise. Her sudden and quick appearance caused him to jump. “Aye? What makes you think it’s for me?” she hummed, tilting her head in a bird-like manner. 

“Your name is Alys Rivers,” Simon pointed to the addressing line of the letter, the name ‘ALYS RIVERS’ spelled out in the common tongue before the rest of the script becomes nonsensical. “Is it not?” 

“Depends on who you ask, I suppose,” Alys blinked, tugging the paper from the lord’s fingers. “Hmm.” 

“I presume you can read that hogwash, can ye? Wouldn’t surprise me none, you’re a very odd woman.” Simon waved his hand to dismiss her. 

She took the dismissal in stride, slipping out of the chamber like she had never been there in the first place. Unfolding the letter completely, most of which was in the Old Tongue. 

To Alys Rivers, 

ᛏᚺᛖᛁ ᚨᚱᛖ ᚲᛟᛗᛁᚾᚷ. ( THEY ARE COMING.) 

ᛈᚱᛖᛈᚨᚱᛖ  ᛁᛟᚢᚱᛊᛖᛚᚠ (PREPARE YOURSELF.) 

[senualothbrok]

Content

Summary: After seeing everyone at the reunion party, Gale wonders if you regret choosing him over Astarion.

Word count: 1.4k

Disclaimers: Non-18+. Unascended Gale x Tav. Unascended Astarion. Mild hurt/comfort. Fluff.

AO3 link

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“That-” The bed dips as he collapses beside you. “Was a lovely evening.”

It is instinct now, to nestle yourself into him, to nuzzle into the nook where his neck meets his shoulder. To interlace your fingers with his.

His words are lightly slurred, drowsy from wine, heavy with pleasure. He is so warm. A light drizzle has begun outside. You lie still, listening to the gentle patter of rain on the sea.

“Everyone looked so happy,” you say. “Did you see Wyll and Karlach?”

His grin is so wide you can hear it. “I can’t say I didn’t see that coming.”

“Even Lae’zel.” You laugh. “She told me she was having a nice time. She used the word nice.”

Gale chuckles. Your body moves to its rhythm.

“Shadowheart wants to stop by again next month.”

“That would be marvellous.”

“Did I show you the duck that Halsin gave me?”

“Yes, my love. More than once. I think you showed everyone at the party.”

You sigh. “Even Jaheira and Minsc looked well. Well, Minsc looked like an escaped prisoner, but I guess that’s his version of thriving.”

“It’s heartening to see that some things never change.” He runs his fingers through your hair, slow and soft. Your eyelids begin to flutter. “And that some things do. Astarion, for instance. He seems remarkably well, doesn’t he?”

Your eyes spring open. You shift your head slightly.

“He does.”  

“He and Tara took to each other like flies to a carcass. For almost half an hour they traded casual insults about my beard, my lack of organisation, and my life choices in general. It was most entertaining. For them.

You trace your fingers over his chest. There are the faintest indents in his skin where the mark of the orb used to be.

“Some things never change.” 

“Indeed.” He kisses your forehead. “Just like the good old days, I suppose, when we were two suitors battling for the prize of your precious affections.”

You look up at him with an arched eyebrow. “Is that what I was? A prize to be won through a contest of manhood?”

He rubs his nose against yours. “Of course not. Your love is a gift, one I never dreamed I’d deserve.”

He goes on before you can protest.

“I think he may still hold my good fortune against me, though. Despite being a changed man. A leader of seven thousand spawn, even.” There is pride in his voice.

In the silence that follows, you bask in that pride. You too are indescribably proud of Astarion, how far he has come, the life he has made for himself.

“No regrets, then?” Gale asks.

He disguises it as a jest, a throwaway comment. But there is a stiffness in his chest, a hollowness to his tone, that he cannot conceal from you.

“Regrets?”

He shuffles. As he tilts his head, you see a crease on his brow.

“Do you regret your choice? Now that you’ve seen Astarion again, in all his glory?”

It is the briefest of moments. You hesitate. And he sees it.

He moves back.  Doubt darkens his features. Desperation quivers in them. He searches your eyes.

You had wanted to brush it off, dismiss it as absurd. Reassure him that you had never entertained any doubts, that you had never been uncertain about your choice. But that would not be true. And you had promised, when you had sworn your lives to each other, that you would always tell the truth.

You had promised each other that you would not sacrifice your own needs on the altar of the other’s approval. Those days were over and gone. You had vowed to always tell each other the truth about what you wanted, what you needed, what you felt. No longer would you ignore or deny who you were out of fear that the other would withdraw their love.

Your marriage had been built on that promise. You could not disregard it now.

“You can tell me.” He nods. There is turmoil in his gaze, but also kindness. And love. So much love.

You place your hand on his heart. You take a deep breath.

“After we ended things, I worried for Astarion. For a long time, I thought I had broken him, even more than he already was. I thought, after all he’d been through, for me to leave him like that…”

You remember the cold tentacles of guilt that latched around your heart, the weight of the shame that crushed you.

“I thought that I could help him. I wanted to be there for him, when no one else had been. He said I was the only one who had ever been kind to him, the only good thing he had experienced in this godsdamned shitty world. To have left him, after all that… I thought I had destroyed him.”

You remember all the sleepless nights, the dreams, the nightmares.  You know, with such certainty, that Gale will understand. You have cradled him in your arms, after all, when he has woken stricken and confused, calling out Mystra’s name. Some things do not need to be explained.

The tenderness of Gale’s gaze gives you strength to continue.

“It was exhausting, to feel like I always wanted him to be something he wasn’t. He resented me for it, for trying to change him. All the times I had to talk him down, justify my decisions, tell him that it was worth it to be kind and compassionate, to help people without expecting anything in return. I’m a Paladin, for gods’ sake, and the number of times I had to explain my oath…” You shake your head. “I felt like I had to make myself smaller, to be a different person, for our love to survive.”

Your voice breaks. “It was too much, anyway, to be the one to save him, to be his only hope.”

There is uncertainty in Gale’s frown. You see the question he holds back.

“It was different with you, Gale. You were a good man long before we met. Even being cursed with the power to obliterate an entire city couldn’t take away your kindness. Your goodness. Even that couldn’t make you bitter or cruel.”

Gale’s face has softened, but he averts his eyes. He looks contrite, when he has no reason to be.

“I admit that I’ve had some concerns.” He grimaces. “When you’re frightfully out of practice, and competing with someone with such clear expertise in matters of seduction…” He clears his throat. “It’s difficult not to wonder.”

“It was never like that.” You hand moves to cup Gale’s cheek. “And seduction, sex – that’s different from…well, making love, forgive the cliché.”

You have discussed intimacy before with Gale, but you have never discussed how things were with Astarion. You do not want to hurt him, but you owe him the truth.

“Sometimes, touch was hard for him. Being close. Showing love. And I understood that. But sometimes, I needed to be touched. To be held.”

It still surprises you, how easy it is to show Gale your heart and all its scars. How safe you feel in the knowledge that he will never run away from them.

“I felt so, so selfish for that.  And for a long time, I blamed myself, for leaving him, for choosing happiness with you.”

The tears come without warning. You brush them away, but they do not stop.

“I could never regret this life with you, Gale. But I did feel guilty. Ashamed. Now, after seeing him, knowing how happy he is, knowing how truly well he is, being able to hug him…” A laugh bursts from you, bright with relief, shaky with tears. “I don’t have to feel that way anymore.”

When he smiles, it is like the light of a thousand stars radiating through you.

“My love,” he whispers. “If I’d known that you were carrying this burden with you all this time, I would have asked you this question sooner.”

He reaches for you and holds you to his chest. You can feel the beating of his heart, echoing through you, boundless as the night sky.

“Choosing you was the best choice I’ve ever made,” you breathe.

His lips caress your hair, your ear, your neck, the tears which fall down your cheeks. His tongue melts into yours as your limbs entwine with his. You give yourself to each other, as you have before, as you will again and again. And for the first time in as long as you can remember, you are content.

----

Liked this fic? You can find more of my work here.

[parvulous-writings]

Aagh thank you so much for taking my Selkie!reader request!! it’s so cute, I absolutely love it!! 💓🦭 I would love a one-shot if you wouldn’t mind 🫶🏻

Warnings: Reading is referred to with she/her pronouns and fem descriptors, vague descriptors of peeling off skin. Somewhat abrupt ending, maybe? Not sure, I've been staring at this for too long

Words: 2.4K

Notes:  My requests are currently open! My request post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too! If you’d like to support me more, consider reblogging! I’d appreciate it loads!!

Gale had certainly been one of your more courteous companions, on your group's slow and steady journey up to Baldur's Gate. Whilst a lot of the others - particularly Astarion, and at times, Lae'zel - would often mutter or complain about how often you would need to stop to 'bathe'. The only ones who didn't try and hurry you along were the wizard, and Wyll. Wyll understood why the others were getting so frustrated, and so did Gale, you were all under a tiny bit of a time constraint on the road. "It's only once a day," Wyll would often defend - not that you were usually in earshot of this. "It is rarely even over an hour or two - I am well aware that we have issues to resolve-" He held up a hand to silence Shadowheart, who had just opened her mouth to retort, most likely with some remark about how they would all be in deep trouble if they kept stopping for everyone's habits, bathing or otherwise. "But, she is the one who holds us all together, and for such a feat, I feel we could... Afford her this much." "Perhaps I should start bathing as much." Astarion drawls, examining his long nails idly as he spoke. "I mean... If one of us can 'afford' to do it, then evidently the rest of us can as well, hm?" Wyll gave the vampire a look of mild exasperation, whilst Gale spoke up. "That isn't what Wyll meant - and you are well aware of that fact." He stated, his voice firm. "You know that she has been incredibly kind to us - you in particular - so we are showing her some kindness in turn." He folded his arms across his chest as he practically scolded the Elf, trying to appear intimidating. It didn't work all that well, at least, not from Astarion's perspective. "But, if you are really so intent on being bothered by this, I will go and ask her to hurry along..." He then continued, as Astarion's eyes became dour. If there was something that the wizard didn't want to do, it was irk the paler man's ire.

With that, Gale trotted off down the same path that you had taken merely half an hour prior, muttering to himself about how easily he had caved to the demands and how he should have stood his ground more. If not for his own dignity, then for your sake. Gale was immensely fond of you, perhaps more than he should have been, considering the short amount of time that he had known you for. But for the wizard, the kindness that you had shown him meant the world. It was the same kindness you showed to all the other companions, but he felt it was special, when it came to him. After so long without such affections - if they could even be called such - Gale's mind was going into overdrive in the presence of it, latching onto you in a way that he tried consciously to ignore, but every time the thoughts of staying at arms length from you left his mind, he would slowly drift ever closer to you. You had never shown any aversion to him. Even when he had admitted to you about the perilous situation thanks to the orb embedded in his chest, you had not shied away, nor had you cast him out. It was more - so much more - than he deserved.

The stroll to the riverbank only took him about ten minutes or so. He had been so wrapped up in his internal battle about whether to just turn around and leave you be, to stand his ground, that he almost dipped his boot into the cold water. He blinked for a moment or so, shaking his head to centre himself, before he made his eyes try to focus on the banks. Where had you decided to take your dip? He assumed it wouldn't be right at the end of that small path, where anyone would be able to wander and see you - you liked your privacy. So, he began to wander, sweeping his eyes across the spaces in front of him, looking for any sign of you or your belongings. In bushes, behind the odd tree, but there wasn't anything, for quite a while. He was beginning to grow concerned - what if you had been caught unawares by a bear, or even a stray goblin? No, that makes no sense, the rational voice in his head countered. She has taken on owlbears practically by herself. Why would a goblin pose a threat? He couldn't argue with that voice, he had seen you do marvellous, perhaps even borderline terrible if the circumstances were different, things. Whilst he was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he almost ended up face-first in the slick grass of the verge after stumbling over one of your boots. Thankfully, he caught himself, saving him from such embarrassment. Gale hummed gently to himself, discovering your discarded blouse and trousers not far from where he had tripped. But you... You were nowhere he could see. He thought about calling out for you, trying to grab your attention - wherever you may be... In the nearby reeds, perhaps? Before he could, however, the splash and ripple of the water beside him diverted his attention from his forming words.

Upon turning his gaze, he locked eyes with something he had not expected to see, so far from the coast of the North. It was a seal. The roundest, darkest eyes just stared back at him, unwavering. Despite the creature being rather adorable, the stare was downright unnerving, and almost... Human. That wasn't entirely something he was expecting - that level of sentience behind it's eyes. Even when he had consumed a potion of animal speaking, there wasn't that look, that shine, to an animal's eye. "Um, forgive me, I-" Gale wasn't entirely sure why his first instinct was to speak. He hadn't taken a potion of animal speaking since their last long rest last night, he would have no way to understand the beast. His eyes trailed back down to the clothes he had discovered as the animal started hauling itself out of the water, and onto the verge. "I was looking for someone, I think she might be somewhere around here..." Why was he still talking? He had no idea. But for some, inexplicable reason, it didn't feel at all weird. Perhaps he had been relying too much on the potions, recently. "These are her clothes, see, and-" He started to turn back, and instead of the seal becoming the focus of his gaze, it was, instead, you. Dripping wet, a mirthful smile dancing across your features. Peeling away from your body, and still partially clutched in your hands, was a seal skin. Gale's mind completely blanked for a moment, and his eyes drifted downward of their own accord, towards your chest as his cheeks began to heat up. As soon as he realised he was beginning to practically ogle your naked form, he averted his eyes. "By Mystra's robe, I-" He started, clearly flustered. His mind felt like it was going blank, over and over, unable to make any clear thoughts.

He tried to focus his eyes anywhere else, anywhere but you, his mouth opening and closing over and over, but little more than stuttering sounds leaving it. "Gale." Your voice breaks him from his thoughts, but he still cannot quite get himself to look at you. He offers a gentle hum, to show he heard you. "May I have my clothes, please?" Without another word, he gathers your garments, holding them out to you, one by one. "Shouldn't you... Dry yourself, first?" He asked, hazarding a glance your way. "It's just a bit of water, Gale... It'll dry." You chuckled, pulling your blouse on over your head. It did stick in a couple of places, but, for someone who had just come out of a river, it wasn't as bad as Gale had anticipated. Perhaps that was the seal skin? "Did you need something, Gale..?" You asked, whilst in the middle of redressing yourself. You glanced over to the wizard as you spoke, noticing he had his back to you, clearly still bashful about seeing you in the nude. It was rather sweet, really, how sweet he could be. "The uh... The others were wondering where you were..." He replied, almost lamely. "So I came to see if you were... Finished bathing..." He was finally able to meet your gaze again, now that you were fully clothed, and he didn't risk catching a glimpse of something more intimate. He wasn't entirely sure what to think, or what even to ask. Why had you been a seal? How had you been a seal? You spotted that look of inquisition in his eye - that twinkle that always seemed to appear when he had a barrage of questions stewing in his mind.

"Something on your mind?" You asked him, your voice almost teasing. You knew there was, it was impossible to miss; and you were well aware of how odd the situation the one he had just seen you in could look, even to someone as well-studied as him. "I just... How?" He asked, vaguely gesturing to you as you gently folded your seal skin, carefully placing it in your pack, right at the bottom, away from prying eyes. "You were you when I saw you this morning, and now you're some sort of seal... Shifting... Creature?" He asked, the cogs audibly turning in his head as he continued waving his hands about, as if this would help him to think. You had to hold in a laugh - this was a seriously confusing moment for him, but you would have thought with all his time spent with his nose stuck in a book before this adventure, that he might have had some sort of idea of what you were... Part of you didn't want to tell him; it took a lot of trust to disclose to anyone what you were, you knew all too well that there were many humans who were all too eager to take advantage of your situation. But, you were almost backed into a corner now. He had seen you, not just in your seal, but physically peeling it off, too. Why had you done that? We trust him, a small voice, nestled in the very back of your head spoke quietly. He has been kind to us... Perhaps he is not like the stories. You considered this for a moment. Before your unforseen adventure, you had always tended to avoid humans; tales from your family and friends had struck the fear of them deep into you. But now that you had been travelling with a few for a while... They didn't seem so bad. Sure, none of them knew that you were a selkie, but they had shown no inclination that they were malicious, for the most part. Wyll was the pinnacle of a knight in shining armour, and Gale was a very considerate man, especially after such a long period of isolation before his abduction.

"It... Is a thing that I keep somewhat... Secret." You said, slowly, and this caught Gale's attention. A secret? Something you had kept from the rest of this group, for all this time? "Is it an... Affliction, of some description? A curse?" He asked, his brows furrowed, clearly concerned for you. "To an extent, I suppose..." You shrugged slightly. "The only real 'curse' of it, is needing to swim, and be in water, as a... Well, a seal, often..." Gale's expression turned contemplative at this. "Your daily habits..." He mused, more to himself than to you. His hand absent-mindedly moved to his chin, slowly stroking at the stubble that littered it. "Shedding skin... Seal.. Must be near to water..." His voice was low as he murmured his thoughts aloud, trying his best to connect the dots. Then his eyes lit up, and his head all but snapped towards you. "A selkie-?" He blurted. Ah, so he did know of your kind. You give a somewhat sheepish smile, telling him all he needed to know. His gaze shifted to one of pure awe. "I... Had no idea - I mean, you had given no true hint, I suppose. You're beautiful, to be sure, but I never realised that it was because-" He stopped himself mid-ramble, his cheeks flushing as he realised what he had just said in his hurry to rationalise himself, and his thought process - or lack thereof in the past couple of months. You give him another smile, "You think I'm beautiful?" You asked the wizard, teasingly. Gale slowly began to nod - he couldn't exactly backtrack his words without insulting you, which was something he did not want to do, at near any cost. "Breathtaking, even... If I may." His voice was low, little more than a murmur.

The two of you share a look, then. A look of what could only be mutuality. And it was - you had eyed Gale for the past two weeks, at least. He had been caring, attentive to your needs, to your likes. It was hard for you to deny the flutter in your chest, that only seemed to be caused by him, or his presence. Without another word, you held out your hand to him, which he took without question, not even a second guess. It was something he had craved for a while, himself. Holding your hand in his, it felt right. Like bliss, even. He was happy to oblige you. So, the two of you began to walk back. You were anticipating a flurry of questions - things both mundane and not, about your life as a selkie. Yet, the wizard was oddly quiet, seemingly basking your presence, now that there were no secrets between the two of you. It felt nice, to him. Freeing, even. It was like, for the briefest of moments, there was nothing and no one outside of the two of you; no illithids, no pressing quest, no monsters lurking on the road ahead. Gale wanted it to last forever, and kept stealing glances your way, finally being able to take in your beauty without shame. Part of him knew he would be teased by some camp members when this came to light, but he didn't care. Perhaps now, the pair of you could bond more. Gale would like that - and he was starting to get the impression, that you would very much like it too.

[jessmaybank]

My best friends brother series; Part 1 - Bubbles & Trouble

Series masterlist

Outer banks masterlist

Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x fem! Kook reader.

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: After you had been left heartbroken by a fellow kook, you decide to let loose at the Cameron house per Sarahs request. Little did you know, your best friends brother may be the only one there to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: alcohol use, swearing, mentions of sex (smut in the next parts)

AN: In the words of Victoria Justice, my best friends brother is the one for me…

“Y/N please don’t cry! We both know he didn’t deserve you” Sarah protests through the phone, eager to help her best friend.

“I know, I know. But with her? Seriously? You have to be kidding” you cry, tears streaming down your rosy cheeks, painting your skin with your mascara.

After a year together, your now ex boyfriend Jake decided to cheat on you. Ironically, it was with the girl he always told you not to worry about. Turns out, when a man says “don’t be stupid, she means nothing to me. I love you Y/N” what they actually mean is “I’m ganna fuck this girl upstairs at a party whilst you and your friends are all downstairs looking for you”

Dick.

“Why don’t you come round tonight. My Brother is having some friends round for drinks in the hot tub and he said I can join, I’m sure he won’t mind if you come with” Sarah says.

You weigh out the pros and cons in your head, and decide that alcohol, your best friend and her brothers cute friends beats rotting away in your depression pit of a bedroom any day.

“Well, I do need a drink. I’ll be round later, love you Sarah” you say, a small smile creeping up on your face for what felt like the first time in days.

After a rocky patch In their relationship, Rafe and Sarah have actually been getting on relatively well recently. Although you don’t know much about Rafe considering you have been best friends with his sister since you were little, you did know he could be difficult at times. You always made conversation with him at his house or at parties to be polite, but nothing substantial ever came of it. His looks made up for his dry conversation, but you knew Sarah would kill you if you ever went near him.

A few hours passed and you pulled up to Tanny Hill in a blue bikini accompanied by some denim shorts. When you lazily knocked on the door, you were greeted with a topless Rafe. His defined muscles along with his tanned skin definitely made him a sight for sore eyes.

“Y/N hi, Sarah told me you were coming” he says, and you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker up and down your dainty figure somewhat subtly.

What takes prominence over that however, is the smile on his face which is half genuine and half full of pity. Great, Sarah has told him.

“Hey, yeah I hope that’s okay” you say.

He mutters a quick of course and ushers you into the kitchen. You agree almost immediately when he offers you a drink, which he takes notice of.

“She’s just getting changed upstairs. She’ll be down in a sec” Rafe says, when he observes you scanning the room for Sarah.

You smile and mutter a thank you as he puts a drink on the counter in front of you. As he’s about to leave to join his friends in the garden, you grab his arm.

He turns around with a confused but sincere look on his face, his blue orbs dazzling with intrigue.

“Uh look, I’m assuming Sarah told you about my breakup. I don’t want any pity okay, I just wanna get drunk and forget about it. So please, no more sympathy looks. I would actually prefer it if you were your moody self” you say.

Rafe chuckles, and you mirror his actions. His blue eyes burn into your own as he studies you. He’s always thought you were adorable as you always acted shy and innocent around him. Until now, however, he’s never realised how goddamn beautiful you were.

“Sure, I get it” he replies. Without thinking, Rafe brings his muscular arm up to your face, dragging your stray strands of hair from the front of your face behind your ear. The gesture was an attempt to comfort you without using words. Rafe was never very good at using his words, and he would much rather show someone how he felt than tell them.

Your body felt like it was set on fire as he touched you, the small action turning your brain into mush.

The two of you snapped back to reality as the sound of footsteps became louder and louder. Rafe cleared his throat as he pulled away from you, and you instantly grabbed your drink, the desire for alcohol increasing by the second as you looked everywhere but at him.

“Y/N!” Sarah shouts, pulling you in for a hug as she reaches you.

You return a hello as you embrace her petite frame. Your eyes accidentally catch Rafe’s as you hug Sarah. The smugness radiates off him as he sends you a wink, a smirk crawling on his tanned face before he walks out into the garden.

You realise his sympathy towards you was indeed short-lived as he’s back to his normal self. You mentally curse. Maybe pitiful looks we’re the better option after all.

The next hour or two consisted of you, Sarah, Topper, Kelce and Rafe crammed into their luxury hot tub. Everyone was pretty drunk by this point, which you blamed on Kelce for making everyone play drinking games. You even had to kiss Topper during a game of truth or dare which was extremely awkward for everyone involved.

Rafe had been sending you flirtatious looks all night, most of which you have returned with a glare. It’s like he’s trying to get you into trouble. The worst part about it though, was that it took a lot of self restraint not to play along and indulge in his suggestive actions.

“Okay, okay, last one I promise. Rafe truth or dare” Kelce says, before finishing the rest of his drink. You’ve lost count of how much you have drank tonight. It turns out drowning your sorrows is a pretty effective method for solving your problems.

“Dare” he says without hesitation, and you admire his braveness.

“I dare you… to kiss Y/N” he says with a smirk. Oh no.

“Gross!” Sarah yells, her body swaying to the music in the background. It was clear she was the drunkest out of all of us.

Your eyes widen as you realised what Kelce has just said, eyes practically popping out of your skull. Rafe swaps places with Topper to sit next to you, and as you turn you head to face him you notice his eyes turn dark with lust.

Before Rafe could make a move though, Sarah leans over the hot tub to throw up. You’ve never been happier to see someone throw up, and you mentally thank Sarah for never being able to handle her drink.

“I think that’s enough for you tonight” Topper laughs at the blonde chucking her guts up before him.

Sarah’s words are slurred as she tries to reply, and Kelce and topper carry her out of the tub and into the house, putting her into bed.

As the three leave, you can practically feel the tension rising between you and Rafe. You know you should just get out and call for a ride home, but part of you is burning to know what his full red lips would feel like against yours, or how good it would feel to have him inside of you.

You subside your dirty thoughts as you start to get out of the hot tub, but Rafe stops you by pulling you down onto his lap so your back is against his chest.

You don’t know wether to freeze up, or relax under his touch, a flutter of adrenaline pulsing through your veins as you sit on the lap of your best friends older brother.

“What are you doing” you breathe, the rise and fall of your chest an indication of your fast beating heart.

“I think you know what I’m doing” he whispers in a low and raspy tone in your ear. His hand runs up and down your thigh, and you can feel your arousal spilling out of you at his seductive words.

Rafe grabs your jaw and turns your face towards him. Once again his eyes are filled with lust and if you weren’t already sitting down, your knees probably would have buckled.

You don’t know weather it was the alcohol or weather you just wanted to do it, but you welcomed his kiss. The kiss was slow and his lips were soft, which was unexpected, but you loved it. His tongue teased your own as his hand ran down your neck and then into your hair. This kiss held more passion than anything you had experienced with your ex the whole year you were together.

When you felt Rafes fingers run over the place you wanted him the most, you snapped back into reality. He’s your best friends brother, what the hell are you doing.

“Fuck, we can’t do this” you say, pulling away from him.

Needing to get out of this situation, you spring up out of the hot tub, grab your towel and your belongings and rush inside, ignoring Rafes protests for you to stay. You texted Sarah that your leaving, saying that you’ll call her tomorrow and that you hope she’s alright.

Rafe sat there for a while, waiting for his erection to go away before he could find his friends. For some reason, although the had just been rejected, he just couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning with you and him.

In honour of buzzcut Rafe being all over my tik tok feed today, it’s only right I came back with another fic! Im hoping this series has about 5 parts. Enjoy bitches!

[wystericwoes]

“𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖊𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖘𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖞𝖔𝖚’𝖑𝖑 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖜𝖓. 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖕𝖆𝖞 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖎𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖌𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖋, 𝖙𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖆 𝖕𝖎𝖊𝖈𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑.”

-𝕊𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕦𝕟𝕒𝕤 𝕣𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕡𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣-

Art is mine!! :)

Chapter warnings: Brief descriptions of violence, sex, (oral) anxiety, curses being curses so therefore gore + fighting and the works. Lore accurate characters, Fuckboy Gojo Satoru. Mentions of toxic dynamics/relationships, cussing

GN reader but some implications to afab anatomy.

Reader has chronic anxiety + paranoia

In his over 1000 years of living,

Nothing had ever brought Sukuna to his knees.

He was undefeated, relentless, and above all else- a monster.

To any person in the jujutsu world, the name Ryomen Sukuna meant something- it struck fear into even the strongest among them, he was a figure from history who was used as a cautionary tale. The cursed man who killed hundreds if not thousands of jujutsu sorcerers.

It was cold. On a certain day hundreds of years ago, the day he truly became The King of Curses.

Sukuna was a human- at least he was at some point. And over time he had lost those shreds of humanity, one by one dropping dead into nothing.

He felt no more remorse, he felt no more sympathy, he felt nothing except the thrill of his increasing strength.

But he was still human after all.

A dying flame from a candle almost entirely burned out, resided deep inside him.

A concubine, an object of simple pleasure somehow warped into something he couldn't have ever imagined. Something he had never known.

Fucking love.

When he found you that night is when he truly became irredeemable.

He was on his knees, dirt staining his robes.

Doctor- is there a doctor around???

No, the whole village was gone. And even if there was they wouldn’t have helped him.

Okay, you’re bleeding. Stop the bleeding

His hand made its way around your throat as he rushed to find anything he had on him that could help.

He tried reversed cursed energy, but you were too far gone and too badly injured. It was a lost cause. But that's just the power you held over him, making him defy logic- be hopeful even.

Hope. what a terrible thing. It makes us think we can be or do anything, it gives the weak the chance to think they can be strong.

Yet here he was, holding onto it.

The moon shone over you, ethereal beams traced over the shape of your body, you were angelic- he didn’t deserve you.

On his hands and knees, gripping his heart.

In his last effort to save you, he had done something to try and bring you back to life

He was desperate.

His hand moved to his chest and down his left arm, then he channeled all the energy from his body for several moments as a spectra of light grew and morphed from his hand, until he was weak, and with his hand was an orb of something convulsing in a hue of whites and blacks.

The orb had formed from his veins, tendrils of energy separating from his body as he attempted to do everything he could to resurrect you. His veins beneath his skin began to glow an ominous purple color, the way one looks when struck by lightning.

With his free hand, he ripped open your shirt- and shoved the ball of concentrated energy into your heart by pressing his hand against your cold clammy skin.

As he did his nose began to bleed, grunting as your body fought the acceptance of the orb- but he persisted. Using the last of his strength to force it in as it slowly sunk into you. His body nearly fell limp, limbs shaking as all the energy and strength was expelled from his body, but he persisted.

His brows furrowed, face sweating, and heart racing.

Wiping away the blood from his nose and lips with his already dirty sleeve with his free hand smearing blood on his face, he coughed up more blood as the last slither of light was absorbed into you.

His breath heaved as he stayed hunched over your lifeless body. The color drained from his face; he looked like he had almost aged several years in the span of seconds.

Deafening silence overcame the ruins of the once lively village. He sat upright on his knees, never wavering his gaze from your unmoving form. Heavy breaths followed the quiet, his body shaking from his futile action.

When he went to see if his efforts had not been in vain, he was met with nothing. No pulse. No beating heart.

He had tried everything. He’s supposed to be the king. The strongest. Hundreds have fallen to his feet dead, and yet right now with your body at his knees he never felt more powerless.

you were gone.

He rested his forehead on yours.

Every part of him hurt. He thought he was the strongest, but this was a cruel reminder. He couldn’t even help you in your final moments. He didn’t deserve to be known as anything; he didn’t deserve to live when you were dead.

His pain was dreadfully quiet. No shouting or cursing at the world for its cruelty. Just grit teeth and heavy breaths.

The sky darkened around the forest clearing that you were in. A storm was on its way, and it would not have mercy.

And that was the day that he had become the monster he had always been.

Any hope for him died with you,

He buried two people that day.

You currently work at your job living a mundane life, you’ve had your hardships, and you’ve had your fair share of conflicts and events. To you, the life you’ve lived up to now was the norm. You didn’t think it could’ve gotten any different than now, eventually you’d grown into a pattern of familiarity and had seen most things the world had to offer.

Until you saw a giant monster eating a woman alive at your local convenience store.

You stood there shell-shocked, frozen for a moment taking in the sight you had just unfortunately stumbled upon, it was grotesque.

An eyeball was popped out of her socket, there was clear signs of struggle along her body with bruises and a dislocated shoulder, that lovely moment was now seeded into your brain as everything happened so fast.

The monster looked over at you, hearing the sounds of your heavy breathing and fast heart. Like a little rabbit who ran straight into the wolf's den.

You were about to book it full speed- when the monster ran away from you. And he looked terrified.

You weren’t one to question a chance out of danger and with that window of opportunity you hauled ass out the door down the street.

You couldn’t scream for help- you would sound absolutely batshit insane.

What we’re you supposed to say? “Garbodor from your worst nightmares just ate a woman alive in front of me and then left” You couldn’t go to the cops.

You let yourself worry about those things later as your feet carried you far away from the scene. Your lungs burned, your nose stung from the dry air and frantic breathing.

You finally got a crowded spot and hit yourself against a wall panting frantically.

What. The. Fuck.

You always knew that you had some crazies in your family but never like this? A hallucination? A nightmare, brain tumors?!

You finally took several deep breaths and let the adrenaline mellow out through your body and shaky hands. You did a double- no, triple take around you to see. Everyone around you was calm, life went on normally, aside from a few concerned passing looks.

Your brain tried to rationalize what you just saw in any way possible. Frantically searching through the database of your brain for anything even remotely close to a logical explanation. You were torn between mental illness and a terrible prank.

Uncertainty was you. In this very moment, the only thing that you could feel or be.

What do you do now?

After the police were notified, Jujutsu tech picked up the case and was assigned to go investigate a very gruesome murder around the area- something simple for them if you can believe it.

When they passed the police tape, there was blood scattered across the inside of the shop. Glass was broken, shelves were downed, bloody handprints and scratches caked the walls.

What hurt was when someone fought in their final moments.. when they almost had a chance. When the death wasn’t quick

This person died in fear.

The curse was no where to be found, it had fled the scene. That’s unusual for curses, seeing as they usually aren’t scared of low level sorcerers or civilians.

“What happened here…?” One woman in a black suit said with slight disgust.

"Grade 3 curse attack, we'll have to start damage control immediately."

“We need to check is there were any witnesses.”

The other mumbled under his breath.

“Do you see any signs of a witness?” She quipped

“Actually..”

The faintest mark of blood the bottom of a shoe at the door.

“We need to figure out what happened. Sooner rather than later."

"We might need to get a professional in here to check for traces of cursed energy. Get a better feel of what played out."

"This seems like a pretty open and-shut case- the civilian will probably just think they hallucinated the whole ordeal."

"Look closer." Pointing at the bloody shoe print, revealing the faintest trail of footprints composed of cursed energy leading down the sidewalk.

They looked at each other, one sighing.

"Alright, let's go."

Sitting in a dark room surrounded by people in dark clothing was not how you thought you’d be spending your Tuesday.

You had just been interrogated about what you saw. And while that affirmed that you weren't crazy, the fact that it was real arose an entirely new set of problems.

Your first impression was that this was some undercover- government CIA men in black scenario and you had seen something you shouldn’t have.

Eventually, you cracked when they kept reassuring you everything was okay, and you weren't developing late-stage schizophrenia.

They started explaining all these terms to you like “sorcerer” and “curses” " but your head was spinning so fast you could barely keep up with any information that they threw.

They were pretty sympathetic towards you, and explained that you weren’t crazy, and that you yourself was one of these sorcerers.

You didn’t like this main-character-chosen-one-secretly has powers thing going on. You were late to work, and although the coffee they gave you was good and your feelings were validated, you just wanted to forget about it.

No one seemed to protest when you decided to get up and leave, that was until you opened the door to meet a 6ft tall supermodel who almost made your jaw slack.

He chuckled as you admired his features. Sharp bones and the most unique hair you’d ever seen. Was that natural? I mean If monsters and warlocks were, this wasn’t the craziest piece of information you had received all day.

What really got your attention was that he was blindfolded.

“I think there’s something they forgot to mention.”

He pointed to his colleagues, one hand in his pocket

“You see, you can’t leave. You’re a jujutsu sorcerer, and that curse you saw isn’t going to be the last.”

Another person in the room turned their head at him.

"Well, it's most likely that they can only see curses and can't actually-"

He cut them off with a pointed finger. Not even entertaining the idea of letting the person finish their sentence.

The other people in the room stood silent not daring to threaten his authority and judgment. Even if it made no logical sense at the moment. Something always universally accepted was that Gojo Satoru knew more than you did about something in any given situation.

“You’re gonna need to learn how to control that energy, and protect yourself.”

Although the answer sounded real, He was lying. A half-truth, the first of many to come. You didn’t know about what or why, but you could sense it. He escorted you out of the dark room which allowed you to get a better look at where you were.

Many old traditional-style buildings secluded in trees followed along in a fashion similar to a school. And although you couldn't explain it, everything felt as if it were shifting around you- like if you averted your gaze then at any second something in your peripheral would suddenly change.

You and Gojo were walking side by side as he began speaking.

"You probably have a lot of questions."

No shit.

"Yeah, understatement of the year."

"I can help. Ask away!"

"Okay, if the floors open I guess I'll start with why I'm here?"

"For your own safety."

Vague and cryptic. But you were too tired to pry in the moment.

"Okay, where are we going?"

"To the dorms"

"Dorms?"

"You see, Dorms are large apartment like buildings which are usually used to house students for certain periods of time.-"

"I didn't mean- I meant why are we going?"

"To let you situate yourself in a safe place."

"Okay... and when can i leave?"

"When you're situated!"

You made a frustrated noise under your breath.

"Okay okay, earlier someone said how did you know to take me in? And how did you find me?"

"You left a residual trail of cursed energy that you produced from the scene, we just followed those. And from measuring the amount of it we found that you're no ordinary person! You're a jujutsu sorcerer."

"A what??"

He promptly sat the both of you down on a nearby bench.

He took in a deep breath like one does before they monologue for a while and explained everything to you. Cursed energy, techniques, the school, sorcerers and its society, curses and their ranks.

Your head was hurting, you placed a hand up to it and leaned in.

When you weren't paying attention during your deep contemplation of this rapidly and increasingly concerning situation- he had changed into sunglasses.

Although you weren’t gonna admit it he was fucking gorgeous.

He looks over at you through his sunglasses slightly crouched to meet your gaze better

“Something on your mind?”

“Yeah- a lot actually! I just got told by a bunch of people that I’m a magician after stumbling upon a murder. And now I have to live with a bunch of high schoolers in some magic temple. for my supposed safety.”

“It’s jujutsu sor-“

“Sorcerers yes I know.”

He quirked a brow and grinned. You were cute.

"I'm glad you listened to my lecture then."

"What other choice do I have?"

You two sat in a moment of silence, allowing you to soak everything in.

You kept noticing him stealing glances at you.

“Can I help you?”

He squinted his eyes at you and lowered his glasses

“Where’d you say you were from again?”

“I don’t see why that’s important.”

“Just a conversation starter! Relax.”

He was lying again.

He stood up, holding out a hand to help you also stand, and you continued your walk to the dorms.

You were so shocked and stressed from all that had happened today, that you didn't even care you missed work, or that this stranger was making you stay here. All you could focus on was the promise of sleep and safety, which you soon let engulf you as you reached your room.

That night was also the night of Megumi's task to retrieve the special grade cursed object.

When Megumi brought Yuuji back to the school, you were sleeping in bed when you heard a commotion below, you nosily and annoyingly looked through the window but couldn't hear much so you quietly opened the window and stuck your head out. (It's not like you had anything better to do.)

you watched as the man from earlier carried an unconscious person over his shoulder and was on the phone in a yelling match with someone being followed by a kid with black hair. other people were also looking around, interested. it felt good to know you weren't the only nosy one.

even with the window open you could only hear every other word.

"Aware-- Understand-- i-- just--- about-- more--- if---not dead."

they turned the corner before you could eavesdrop anymore.

With a defeated sigh, you lay in your twin bed, barely getting any sleep after the events of the day. Everything that had happened still not fully settled in.

When Sukuna was defeated, he had a lot of time alone in his own brain. Well, more like his thoughts. He didn't have a brain anymore

First came arrogance, then denial. How did some sardonic sorcerer no better than the dog shit one accidentally steps upon beat him? better yet seal his soul.

he thinks to himself only had he not done with you what he did. and it wasn't even worth it- you still died.

Even with his natural intelligence and eventful life, memories became blurry to him. At first, it was revenge, escape, and his own fulfillment. The image of his enemies being tortured and murdered kept him grounded from descent into insanity. He would nail them up by their hands onto trees after breaking every bone in their body and just barely keep them on the precipice of life as he murdered their family in front of them, and their friends, and their dog because fuck you.

After his rage, he went to reflection. How'd he gotten beat. His weaknesses, his flaws... His misdirections. Was there a better way it could've gone? Maybe there was a god and he finally received karma... no. He refused to belive that. If there was a god what a sick bastard he must've been to allow sukuna to be born in the first place.

Being born, unwanted, his parents. He hardly remembers now, and it doesn't really matter anyway..

Without the outlet of murder, he was left to think about you. He was his own worst enemy, you held the knife to his throat, and no matter what he would never have moved out of your way.

The one chance he ever had at being a human again had been taken from him. he didn't blame himself; he blamed the world. His dad for impregnating the egg that became him.

He never hated himself- no. But he understood why people hated him. If he were anyone else, he would've developed a strong disdain for himself as well.

The only difference was they couldn't do anything about their hate for him, too weak.

His train of thought kept shifting involuntarily to you. Your stupid habits, the things you considered flaws. The way he could just pick you up like nothing made him feel gratified. He missed that. Doing what he wanted when he was the strongest.

But he figured dwelling on those things wouldn't get him anywhere.

You woke up feeling almost hung over from all the adrenaline high you kept coming down from yesterday.

Things were fully settling in, and the residual shock was residing into confusion and frustration.

what do you do now? where do you go? do you just sit here waiting for someone to tell you what to do? you figured you had at least deserved as much as to go outside. They had a cute garden...

You were abruptly stopped by a white paper bag at your feet with a note.

"Sorry for all the confusing things going on, we can talk later.

-The handsome one :)"

you rolled your eyes at that. although the gesture was appreciated.

Who knew fearing for your life so much would make you build such an appetite.? You ate all of it like you hadn't eaten in weeks, you were feeling a little better until you also realized you didn't shower yesterday, and you suddenly became all too aware of your smell.

What were you supoosed to do? Wait for permission? just roam freely? there weren't any rules or regulation you were told to follow... you didn't know very much but you did know this tiny ass room was suffocating. you decided fuck it and went down the hall.

You searched the old wooden building and saw other rooms, a common area, and finally the showers. They were separated by sex so you had to look around to find the one you could go into. then you realized you had no clothes. Okay well, a clean body and dirty clothes are better than all-around dirtiness. You've definitely settled for worse.

You began the process of running the water, upset at the overall situation.

You realized only when you were half naked that you had no toiletries at all. You audibly groaned out loud. As if you couldn't be more defeated in the state of your life right now, you also couldn't even properly shower.

You wrapped a towel around you and began searching the bathroom. Of course, there was nothing that could help you in here because why would life make anything easy for you? You were essentially alone in this building and couldn't really care anymore. then you made your way down the halls seeing if there was anything that the oh so generous universe would grant you. A brush, floss, a bar of soap, an 8 in one???

Sighing in defeat, you exit your room to hear the sounds of footsteps behind you. You turn around to see slender man, well- actually it’s Gojo Satoru.

“Did you get the food I left?”

“Ohhh you left that”

He dramatically put his hand on his forehead and feigned being hurt.

“I signed it!”

“Not really… open to interpretation.”

Although he was the hottest person you may have ever seen and made tears fall from your legs you were never gonna admit that to him. You could tell he oozed arrogance and was used to getting what he wanted,

He eyed you up and down, and then you remembered you were half naked.

You tightened the grip on your towel.

"Why the hell are you here?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

You stuck a hand out and did an "obviously not/what do you think?" motion.

"We're going out!"

Of course, a man who looked as expensive as him had equally expensive spending habits. He told you to indulge yourself as much as you wanted because "he could handle it."

Although you're pretty sure he was just showing off like a male peacock.

You had never liked white-collar elitist rich boys whose daddy was their lawyer, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't like their money being spent on you.

At first, you felt guilty. When you picked one shirt, he insisted on ten more. You eyed a piece of jewelry too long and the next thing you know a small paper bag slipped into your larger ones.

You had to take a step back and assess why he was doing this. Was he buttering you up? Trying to win you over? Maybe he was actually trying to help you and make you feel better after the shitty day(s) you've had.

You two were settled at a nice restaurant eating lunch when your own anxieties consumed you,

"You're not doing all this so I'll sleep with you right?"

He intermittently choked on his bite of food and had to punch his chest to get it back down the right pipe again. Your bluntness wasn't something that he was used to.

"No, and quite frankly I'm offended.”

He turned his nose up at you dramatically which made you roll your eyes.

"So then why?"

His gaze met yours through his dark glasses, and his face went solemn. Genuine sincerity laced in his words.

"I want you to open up to me, is all."

"Why do you want that?"

"Because you are interesting. You've got this... I guess you could say walls around you I can't seem to get past."

"...So, this is a bribe."

"More of a… friendly suggestion!" he went back to his cheery and smile demeanor.

you sighed. As much as you knew not to give into coercion, you felt a little bad.

"I've always had issues trusting people, even as a kid. I've always had this profound feeling of discomfort when I would begin to open myself up. Like they would take advantage of me."

For the first time all day he actually shut up. He rested a fist under his chin and leaned further into the table.

"What's crazy is that most people never hurt me. I'm fully aware that most people have good intentions... and yet my natural instinct is to run away before they get too close."

He looked at you with an unreadable expression.

"Okay now that this is awkward tell me something about yourself."

"Wellll pfffff... pf. pf. pf... I'm the strongest jujutsu sorcerer."

you quirked a brow. you weren't sure if he was telling the truth or fucking with you.

"I come from a long line of sorcerers, I love sweet food, annndddd I'm very popular."

"And cocky."

"I prefer Confident."

You had a small smile from his radiant energy. He really was nice to be around. And that's not the money talking either (but it does help)

"Okay okay... tell me one thing you think about me, and I’ll confirm or deny it.” he said excitedly.

"Are you just fishing for compliments?"

"Are you saying I deserve compliments?"

You huffed lightly.

"I think you probably sleep around."

He gasped.

"What assumptions! I was hoping for a more 'you have a nice smile' but if you want to play it that way..."

he brought his finger to his chin and tapped it a few times. making a 'hmmmm' sound.

"I bet you don't get around enough."

"I'd rather be a prude than a slut."

this was war.

"Agree to disagree.” He shrugged his shoulders.

"No, disagree to disagree! I bet you mix up the names of all the people you sleep with." You stood your ground, and although you came off as aggressive, you enjoyed this banter.

"I bet you have a shrine of your first boyfriend you ever had and all you did was kiss."

"Man whore!" you furrowed your brows and stood up to look down on him, which quickly backfired when he also stood up, meeting your eyes with his own.

"Virgin!"

"Am not!!"

"I bet you couldn't seduce a guy if you were the last person on earth and he had no other options.”

"I bet you only have sex so you can come and then you leave straight after."

He dramatically gasped

"I'll have you know I am an excellent lover!"

"For thirty seconds maybe."

He moved his face a little closer to yours

"It would be the best thirty seconds of your life."

"Oh yeah? prove it."

when you said that to him you really meant it rhetorically. You didn’t think before you spoke but you’re not exactly complaining- the time in between then and now where you currently have the most beautiful man on earth between your legs was a bit blurry. He slammed some cash on the table, you two scampered away and turned around into the nearest bathroom, and that's where you are now.

You usually tried to maintain an "at least third date" rule for hookups, but the stress of what had just happened in your life had fully settled in, and now you required some much-deserved stress relief. You couldn't deny yourself him when he so graciously offered himself on a polished refined silver platter that you could never afford.

"Tell me what you want, your majesty."

He had a shit eating grin that you wanted to just fuck off his face.

You didn’t know if he was being sweet or sarcastic.

"You're the one who blew your paycheck, you tell me."

"You don't have to pay me back you know?"

“I know that…”

“You’re the one who wanted me to ‘prove it.’”

Your face heated up and you refused to look him in the eyes because you knew he had the upper hand. Even with him waiting for you to tell him what to do. You were so damn horny right now you weren’t in the mood to talk.

“Ugh, I don’t know Gojo- just touch me.”

he graciously manhandled you onto the counter and locked the door behind him, you weren't one for public stuff but something about him made you want to risk it all. He ran his hand up your leg and fidgeted with the buttons.

“Here?”

You nodded.

he pulled down your underwear and bottoms gracefully, taking in every moment that the cool air kissed your suddenly exposed warm skin.

He sank to his knees, hands rubbing circles around your thighs.

He opened your legs to allow his head to fit between them better, his breath fanned over that spot you needed him most right in the center. When you involuntarily arched your back and bucked your hips into him, he moved back and started working his way up with hickeys from your lower to higher thighs.

That unfamiliar sensation of suckling in the sensitive area of your thighs pushed you just a little closer to that brink of insanity.

It stung, but above all else felt so fucking sensitive and made your body flinch when he first made contact.

The higher he went the more sensitive you were, thin skin hardly ever touched by the sun being attacked by a white haired beautiful assailant.

You held back a moan trying to avoid him having the satisfaction.

When he was done working his way up, He looked at his watch and then with sudden motion you had no way of preparing for, one hand was gripped around your hip and another on the fat of your thigh while he latched his mouth onto the most sensitive bundle of nerves that was swollen in need.

“F-fuck...!”

You bit down on your wrist as the sensations overwhelmed you. His mouth was pure magic, of fucking course he just had to be good at everything.

A man on a mission, he gave you no room to prepare. After that previous onslaught of teasing, he went straight to it. You both respected and resented that.

It all happened so quick and overwhelmingly, like he knew your body better than you did. Within moments you felt a coil up in your stomach that had you shocked

You didn’t believe that he had actually managed or push you into the beginning of an orgasm that quick.

You wanted to fight it, but your own body betrayed you.

The muscles in your legs and pelvis clenched and tensed furthering the process as it forced you to chase it faster.

Although the orgasm was so sudden and quick that it wasn’t the most intense you had ever had, it was still an orgasm none the less.

You almost broke skin biting down on your own hand, whimpers still stifled behind it.

Your legs wrapped around his head, squeezing him so hard as if you were scared, he might go.

At the end of it, you were taking shallow and rapid breaths. Trying to get your bearings in what just happened-

“H-how… how did you…”

You said between pants.

He looked down at his watch again and you heard a little click.

He proudly faced the watch to you like a kid who won an award.

28.7 seconds

“Motherfucke-!”

The walk home was quieter.

You two walked along side each other, standing a little closer than before.

Satoru was talking about something about his favorite students. As annoying as it was to listen to him ramble for so long, you thought it was sweet how much he seemed to care about them.

“-you see what makes Megumi really interesting is his tactility and ability to make executive decisions in the last second. You don’t usually see that in someone so young y’know? He’s got great potential…-“

You had been lost in your own train of thought and were hardly paying attention.

You know what he had said but you still felt guilty. He was carrying bags over his shoulder of all the things he had bought for you, you got to finish when he didn’t, and although you didn’t admit it you wanted to do something for him. You were truly grateful, and he had no way of knowing.

You also felt safer with him.

“How are you feeling?”

His sudden direct statement to you got you to snap out of it.

“Oh, I’m fine.” You weren’t necessarily lying. But you wondered why he asked.

“Y’know you’re special.”

He was looking straight ahead, and so we’re you. Barely seeing him in your peripheral vision

“Please. Spare me that”

You thought he was just trying to do the classic move of “I promise you’re different” and he probably did this with everyone.

“I’m being serious.”

When he said that, he sounded like he meant it. There was no undertone of sarcasm, or hint of arrogance. Nothing laced in his words other than sincerity.

“So are you. But you probably already know that.”

He was different in every way possible, looks, flamboyancy, intelligence, as much as you hated to admit it his sex skills-

Ever since he was born, he’s likely been told he was exceptional. And standing next to someone like him it was easy to feel small. To feel just ‘ceptional.

“Do you still feel bad?”

You unintentionally furrowed your brows at that.

He chuckled and bared a satisfied grin.

“You don’t owe me anything.”

Of course, you knew that- you never owe someone something when they give you nice things. But you still felt bad.

“I know, I’m just not used to… that kind of treatment. And now that you’ve done it, I guess I’m scared.”

You were trying to open yourself up, but this part of you was difficult to communicate in words.

He could sense your discomfort.

“Are you sure you’re not just upset that I was right?”

You scoffed at that.

“There wasn’t anything to be right about.”

“You asked me to ‘prove it’ and so I did! Therefore, I win.”

You took a deep exhale and rolled your eyes. As annoying as he was his attempt to lighten the mood worked. A small but appreciated gesture that earned you a light smile.

“I’ve always felt like there’s been something waiting for me.”

He remained quiet to let you talk. Intently listening

“I’ve always had this... anxiety that follows me everywhere. Sometimes in my dreams I see these eyes following me. They’re hidden in plain sight- they know I can see them but they don’t care. They know I can’t do anything about it.”

You took a deep breath in, heart beating slightly faster..

“I’ve always felt like I’m in danger. Like There’s something waiting for me when the smoke clears…”

You formulated your next thought right as it came to you.

“What are common signs of a curse? Now that I know this is something I can see…”

“Hmm… well, a curse is a manifestation of negative energy, so usually people experience things like nightmares, paranoia, stress, and the works.”

You sat in silence for a moment reflecting on the words he just said.

He could feel the tension grow and could tell that what he just told you was beginning to carry a weight down on you.

He held his head high and took a deep breath in, carrying his usual happy and eccentric personality back with him.

“Now Yuuji, just when you think you’ve seen everything- the kid amazes me! And he’s endlessly interesting. He’s also hilarious, in the sense that he always surprises me. He’s filled with so much passion and remains positive even with everything he’s been through- “

His sudden shift in demeanor made you snap out of your daze, and you happily listened to his rambling for the rest of the way back.

When you two finally reached the academy, the sky was painted with hues of vivid colors. The sun had begun to barely set, and that always brings out the best of the sky. White whisps of clouds strung across the stretch above you.

You two walked up into the dorm building, walking into your room, he delicately placed down the bags on the floor alongside the wall.

“Thanks for everything today. And I know what you told me but still.”

He had a small smile on his face.

“You have to let me make it up to you sometime.”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“I’m afraid there’s nothing I need.”

You were expecting him to make a dirty joke, and with his strangely normal response you felt almost stumped and decided to leave it there.

With the silence, Gojo took it as his cue to leave, and just before he did, you hugged him. Which he embraced.

It was short but sweet. And with the disappearance of his footsteps down the wooden hall, the day had reached its end.

The thing about Sukuna, was that he was past the point of redeemable.

He wasn’t someone who could be cured, there was no chance of a stray ember combusting into a flame.

That’s what made him strong. The ability he had to completely feel no remorse on his mission to power.

Human emotions are what prevent man from reaching their true potential.

So, he got rid of them.

He had carnal pleasures, he had interests- but he never had anything past surface level desire.

When one becomes past the point of no return, what happens when the thing that broke him comes back?

He was in his domain, in that moment unaware of his current hosts surroundings.

Then like a tidal wave he was ripped from shore and into the deep ocean. Involuntarily being magnetized to something outside.

A feeling deep inside him that he couldn’t pinpoint… he tried punching himself in his own gut because what he felt could only be described as butterflies.

Except those butterflies were flying at 100 miles an hour and gnawing at his insides as if they were itching to escape

An extra pair of eyes manifests itself into Yuji's face, he centers his vision trying to find the source of this mysterious and annoying pull.

His pupils dilate upon seeing you. And a feeling that could only be described as true profound fear engulfed him.

This wasn’t the first time he had seen a look alike of you, but this time was different. Your smile, your mannerisms, and even your name.

You weren’t supposed to be alive. You were dead. He had already lost you, grieved you, avenged you, and moved on.

But then there you were, along the side of Gojo fucking Satoru learning how to manifest basic cursed energy.

Sukuna helplessly spectated his own demise as Yuji walked closer to you and Gojo in the training field.

He was in a state of complete and utter shock, he was completely defenseless as he watched you introduce yourself to Yuji.

“Hey Gojo…?”

You asked in a hushed tone.

You tugged on the sleeve of Gojo and whispered into his ear very concerned that what you were seeing was real and indeed not a paranoid illusion.

“Oh, that would be Sukuna.”

Pt.2

[onlyluxalo]

This will my first time doing headcanons after like forever so I apologize that I’m rusty at it

For Welt ones I’ll be using in game gifs and/or pics of him from the manga (mostly younger welt since it’s more younger Welt but it’s still Welt) so don’t get confused and I’ll be using a older reader in mind since I believe Welt deserves a older S/O than a younger one imo

Welts lore that isn’t in HSR while being shown here!

This is a gender neutral reader btw!

Welt Yang hcs

Welt is a bit insecure of his age and thinks reader doesn’t love him but reader loves him regardless

If you aren’t from Welts world and if he gets comfortable enough, he’ll let reader call him “Joachim” instead of Welt but only in private since only those we trust well enough get call him by his real name

From time to time Welt would call reader “Rakas”, “Rakkaani”, “minun rakastettuni”, and other loving names in Finnish (Welt is canonically German, Chinese, and Finnish. And anyone that is Finnish, please correct me for the right spelling)

If you aren’t from his world, Welt might show reader pictures of people he holds dear to, mostly his son and (deceased) father

If you are/aren’t from his world, he will let out his childish side (it’s canon that his consciousness/inner self is him as a child)

I’d like to think he’d teach reader Finnish since it’s his native language

If you are from his world, he’d already would vent a lot from time to time since Welt had to grow up at a young age and have a lot of responsibilities and burdens to protect humanity

Welt actually likes it when reader would trace his scars and kiss them since it makes me feel loved and reminds him that he’s still alive due to rebuilding his body so much (I think about 3-4 times?)

Welt lets reader watch him workout and loves it when they give him words of encouragement and praise (He is canonically buff due to being the Herrscher of Reason and former Sovereign of Anti-Entropy)

Sometimes I think he’d explain the Power of Reason/Core of Reason to reader in private (whether or not you or aren’t from his world) because his power is a bit complicated with all his gravity and black holes

He’d definitely would sketch reader and show them his animations that he worked with Bronya (Zaychik) on

He definitely falls head over heels if reader gave him a shoulder and back massage because Welt knows he needs it so bad due to 74 years of responsibilities and burdens (Welt is canonically 82 and did get traumatized at the age of 8)

If you aren’t from his world, Welt would explain why he has a hatred for Luocha which ends up with talking about Otto Apocalypse in the end when the blonde man traumatized him at the age of 8

He absolutely loves it when reader kisses his wrinkles and acts like a desperate kitten for attention because he craves it

Has definitely shown Star of Eden’s true form to reader if they aren’t from his world (the cane is originally in a orb like form)

Hope you enjoy the hcs even though it’s a bit rusty 💀

Have a Alien Space manga Welt

[abiiors]

sold to the 1975 😔✊🏼

a/n: i spent way too much fucking time on this and literally no one deserves to be subjected to this yet here we are. GOODBYE. (this is my legacy...)

when i open my eyes in the morning, the world feels different. the birds don’t chirp like they usually do, the sky is grey and leaves on the tree outside seem wilted and dead. still i drag myself out of my bed and trudge to the bathroom. 

the bags under my eyes are pronounced—a result of cleaning up after my mother when she returns home from her late night clubbing sessions. my lifeless blue orbs (🔵👄🔵) stare back at me. there’s no spark in them anymore… i used to be the curious girl who found beauty in everything. now… i can barely look at myself in the mirror. 

a heavy thudding on the door interrupts my depressive spiral. 

“autumn raine! open this door right now,” my mother slurs, mixing up her words and the syllables of my name and—

“have you died in there?”

the banshee shriek gets me moving. i toss my hair in a messy bun and throw on an old band t-shirt—radiohead, my own little inside joke since no one else seemed to know the band. other girls my age fawned over taylor swift and boys who barely looked old enough to be in high school. i felt like an old soul. 

“autumn!” another sharp rap on the door. “we have guests.”

guests? at 8 am? that piques my curiosity. 

“coming!” i reply and shimmy into my skinny jeans. 

i open my door and come face to face with my mother’s fuming nostrils. if my situation weren’t so pathetic and sad i’d almost find it funny. 

she takes my arm in a vice-like grip and smiles an ugly smile. 

“what have i done to be cursed with a child like you, huh? you couldn’t dress up even for today.”

“why, what’s—”

“hush now!” she chides, “go put on some lipstick and meet me downstairs in two minutes.”

she pushes my back into my room and shuts the door before i can tell her that i don’t own any make up. the most i can find is some tinted lip balm and old, crusty mascara. the only jewellery i can find is the heart shaped necklace from my dead father, so i quickly put it on. between that and my tattered old converse, i feel like the prettiest girl in the world. 

i roll my eyes at my sarcasm and make my way downstairs. 

the stairs creek in a familiar way and i don’t even notice that something feels way out of the ordinary until it’s too late. 

i don’t even notice the four men sitting on our torn old sofa until i’m right in front of them. 

my mother looks at me with a saccarine smile. “be a darling and make some tea for our guests, autumn.”

“no, that won’t be necessary,” one of them cuts in and for the first time i look at them properly. 

the one who’d just spoken is smaller in comparison to the other three. his arms are littered with tattoos, his hair curly and going in every possible direction. his eyes look hard and cold and brown. 

the other three nod in unison. 

“we need to finish the transaction and get going,” he speaks again and mother pales slightly. 

the…transaction?

“of course,” she smiles a fake smile and wrings her hands together. 

“i’m sorry, what’s—”

“autumn!” i shut up the instant she glares at me. i know that look. don’t speak until you’re spoken to. 

“you haven’t told her?” the other one speaks up. his voice is much deeper than his friend’s. his whole vibe is more intense than the rest of them. he’s all sharp cheekbones and bleached, buzzed hair and chipped nail polish. not a man of many words but something tells me people listen when he speaks. 

“i… of course i h-have,” my mother stutters and throws me a look. “she knows, don’t you, sweetheart? tell me.”

tell them what?! 

my heart hammers in my chest and i try to swallow the dryness away. “y-yes. i know”

all at once four pairs of striking orbs are on me and i blush from the intensity of their gazes. (🟤👄🟤 🟤👄🟤 🟤👄🟤 🔵👄🔵) all the attention in the room is on me and with horror i realise they expect me to speak further. 

“she t-told me,” i stutter out and smile at my mother who looks like she’s swallowed a lemon. 

“and did she tell you who we are?”

i think about nodding again but there’s no way i can fib this. the truth it i’ve never seen these men before in my entire life. all i know is that if i went along with my mother’s lie, things might be good for me. even if it’s temporary. 

hesitantly, i shake my head. 

“we are the 1975,” the curly-haired man speaks and i cock my head to the side. what an odd little name… “and you’ve been sold to us.”

—

“sold?!” i screech as soon as they’re out of earshot. 

“ungrateful bitch,” she hisses back, “keep your voice down! i’ve taken care of you for twenty years and this is how you repay me?” 

“taken care—TAKEN CARE OF ME?” i bellow, unable to keep it down anymore. “all you did was drown yourself in a bottle of wine every night and left your child alone to take care of everything on her own. and now you’re asking me to repay you?!”

“don’t act like you’re a special little gem. the girl down the street was sold to five people last year and she went without any complains.”

my blood boils at the mention of her. lila rose… the girl down the street. no one had heard from her in a year and no one cared enough to find out anything. 

“don’t bring her into this,” i retort. the air around me feels charged and my entire body feels alive. never in my life have i talked to my mother like this before and now that i do, i feel… alive. 

i laugh at the irony. the most free i have ever felt in my life is after being sold to four men i do not know. 

my mother’s hand raises above her head and i know what’s coming—won’t be the first time she’s slapped me. the air around me shifts with the force of it and i flinch away, tightly closing my eyes. i brace myself for a slap… that never comes. 

slowly, bewildered, i open i eyes and come face to face with a… back? 

“you will not touch our property,” the man speaks and this is the first time i hear his voice. 

he’s impossibly tall, perhaps the tallest among them all. half his face is covered in a beard and his hair is tied up in a neat bun. and even when i’m offended at being called their “property”, i can’t help but feel a flutter in my stomach. 

he saved me from getting hurt. 

“o-of course,” my mother stutters. “i was just—”

“you were just…?”

he scoffs when she cannot answer and turns to look at me. 

for the first time i’m truly aware of just how big he is, just how he towers over me. the difference in our size leaves me speechless, and i tuck my hair behind my ears and flutter my lashes up at him. 

he smiles. “you have thirty minutes. go pack.”

—

back in my room a sense of sadness hits me for the first time. 

there’s nothing in this house that i’m going to particular miss, apart from my stack of secondhand paperbacks that is…

i thumb through the pages one last time and say goodbye knowing my mother won’t hesitate to use them as kindling the moment i’m gone. not like she’s ever read a book in her life… all she knows how to do is drink, party, cake her face with make up and obsess over men. 

i stuff my clothes into a tattered old duffel bag. there’s no make up i need to pack, just my favourite books and vinyl, if they even let me use them wherever they’re taking me. 

almost on dot, once my thirty minutes are up, the curly haired man from before enters my room. his lip curls in barely concealed disgust as he looks around my room—at the peeling wallpaper and the jane austen bedsheets on my bed, at the random niche band posters that i don’t expect him to know about (oasis, blur, arctic monkeys etc) but he’s gentle when he takes a hold of my hand. 

“let’s go, autumn raine.” he says and i refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. instead, i square my shoulders and blink my tears away. 

and then i close the door to my bedroom for the last time. 

autumn raine ↑ if you even care