#DO NOT IGNORE ME I WILL SMITE YOU

[desire-mona]

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[evidently-endless]

every day really is like oh my GOD another one?

[gojorgeous]

"MINE, MINE, MINE."

pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it. content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything. a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune wc: 5.2k

“No.” 

No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong. 

“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.

“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.

Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.” 

Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.

“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.” 

Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.

The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.” 

Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–” 

“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.” 

Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?

“Doctor, you don’t underst–” 

“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.

Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry. 

“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm? 

“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”

You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.

The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?

“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.

You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer. 

Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach. 

“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope. 

Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road. 

Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”

He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”

Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.” 

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.” 

“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.” 

Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.” 

You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare. 

Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to. 

For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto. 

You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.

You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck. 

Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed. 

“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home. 

Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles. 

“Yes you can. I know you can.” 

You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.” 

There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.” 

You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.” 

Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.” 

You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–” 

His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.

“End of discussion.” 

He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.

“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours. 

“I got you, baby.”

Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.

Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.

~

You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly. 

You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs. 

“Feel anything?” he asks. 

You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter. 

“Sleep, baby.” 

For once, you follow orders without a fight.

–

Hot. Too hot. 

When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs. 

You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.

“Deep breaths, baby.” 

Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint. 

“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-” 

“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.” 

You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.

His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.” 

Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.” 

He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place. 

“No, baby.” 

You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully. 

“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin. 

“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.” 

With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully. 

“That’s it. Good girl.” 

Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight. 

“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”

Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants. 

“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.

“Sugu,” you plead. 

The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit. 

You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives. 

“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.

He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled. 

“S-Sugu…” you whine.

The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him. 

His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.

But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.

“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need. 

“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled. 

Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away. 

“Gonna knot you good, princess.” 

You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes. 

He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk. 

“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.” 

Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss. 

“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”

The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…

“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.

His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything. 

“Sugu–” 

And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling. 

Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?

Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens. 

“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness. 

~

You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that. 

You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.

“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…” 

You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.

You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much. 

“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine. 

“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.” 

Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams. 

“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.” 

You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.

When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it. 

“P-please, please, please–”

He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.

“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…” 

You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.

When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”

When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.

The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl. 

It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised. 

When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.

taglist (DM me to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina

link: alpha!gojo fic

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[izzystizzys]

As High Marshall Commander, a title foisted on him by the Galaxy’s fakest bitch aka Chancellor Palpatine, Fox theoretically has privileges and authorities like no other clone. In practice, he has a headache and gets ignored more obviously than before.

What he also has is a fancy new function on his personal comm unit modified to broadcast GAR-wide to all commanding officers, up to and including Jedi. It gathers dust next to his own modified button that sees much better use - a private channel to Stone, the only vod that will let Fox bitch at him to his heart’s content without hanging up (Thire) or bitching right back (Thorn).

It’s been a long shift of 72 hours, the maximum Stabby allows him to do without a well-placed hypo to the neck, when Fox finally collapses on his rickety cot in the Command quarters and hits the private comm connection to Stone without looking. He’s already rolling his eyes so hard it tweaks at the migraine that’s been building since hour 18 and heaving a put-upon sigh.

“Everyone is stupid, Stone, and asking to be thrown face-first from the Dome balustrades”, he begins, settling into a low, dead tone of voice to warm to the building monologue. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. “I swear to haran I’m going to wring Amedda’s stringy neck one of these days. I don’t know what magical Force gods his mother pissed off, but they made sure to punish her and the Galaxy at large a hundred times over. He sucks the joy and competence out of every room like a black hole of stupid. I’d call him a has-been, but I trust in the power of nepotism and also just don’t believe he ever was. I swear he’s doing it on purpose and - oh, kriffing Sith-damned hells, you know who’s definitely doing it on purpose?! The kriffing Chancellor, that wrinkly ass-faced ballsack!”

Taking a deep breath, Fox lets that sit in his chest for a moment, indulging in the feeling of bright weightlessness. “I swear he’s trying to keep the war going - no one man can be that incompetent and still draw breath, not even Amedda or Taa. Goddamn Taa - but anyways, kriffing hell, Stone, either the senility isn’t an act or he’s a bad cartoon villain from Dooby Scoo. Yes Sir, sending Senator Amidala to a Seppie-infested planet for negotiations is a great idea after her fourth bomb threat of the week. No Sir, I can’t hear you cackling evilly with Count Dooku under your lame two-credit robe as you’re definitely not colluding with the Republic’s enemies. What, you have a red lightsaber?! Oh, of course I don’t know what that means, I was dropped on the head as a tubie!”

Barely pulling in a harsh breath, Fox continues, palms pressing into his eyeballs hard enough to cause sparks. “And speaking of lightsabers and senile fucks, haran smite my ass off but who the kriff thought it’d be a good idea to give absolute tactical and military authority to the kriffing eldritch space monks! The Force didn’t bless them with the collective good sense it gave to a kriffing rock, and I’m tired of pretending otherwise! Has anyone kriffing read the Theed Convention of Sentient Rights in Wartimes?! NO?!! Well, color me UNSURPRISED, because war crimes ARE NOT! GOOD! BATTLE! TACTICS!!”

“They run around in crop tops, Stone, in crop tops! Oh, the Force provides - WELL I’M GOING TO PROVIDE MY FOOT UP YOUR ASS, AND IT’S GOING TO HURT BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT WEARING KRIFFING ARMOUR!”

“Sure, let’s send the preteens into active warzones under heavy artillery in kriffing party wear! Surely nothing will ever go wrong! And give them commanding positions equivalent to CC-clones, WHO WERE LITERALLY GENETICALLY CREATED FOR IT! WITH A DECADE OF INTENSE TRAINING! LET’S DO THAT, BECAUSE WE’RE ALL KRIFFING STUPID!”

He’s gesturing wildly at the ceiling now, face heating up as his blood boils beneath the surface. “And you know what really gets my lowers in a twist, apart from the preteen commanding officers and blatant kriffing high treason and war profiteering?! Is it the complete lack of recognition? Gratitude? Basic sentient rights?! No, Stone, no, I would take all that in stride if it meant I never had to see Skywalker and Amidala kriffing canoodle right in front of me again, and pretend like it isn’t the galaxy’s worst conflict of interest case in the making!”

“By all levels of Sith-hell, what the kriff is wrong with that woman? You have it all, you could have anyone, and you choose that twatwaffle?! And then they have the gall to lock themselves in a broom closet for twenty minutes straight and have me guard it! ‘Oh yes, Senator, naturally we all go rattling brooms with our good friends! Nothing dodgy happening at all! I definitely believe you were looking for detergent and have used a washing machine before!’ The absolute nerve on those two! And then last week - you’ll never believe this - High General Windu passed by, and I swear he looked like he wanted to throw himself off the roof! I’ve never been less impressed by anyone in my life, and I’m batch-mates with Bly!”

“Speaking of Bly, that little bitchtit - if I have to edit one more, one more kriffing propaganda piece of him staring at General Secura’s bits, I’m going to stab my eye out! And if I have to edit one more of Secura staring at his bits, I’m going to stab the other one out! The only good thing I have to say about them is they’re more subtle than Skywalker and Amidala, which means nothing really. I will never understand that woman - but then she’s worked with Jar Jar Binks for a decade and not had a nervous breakdown, so she either has nerves of steel or is on some good-ass drugs.”

“Girl, your choices. And you know what else is a choice? Kote kriffing roundhouse-kicking heads off droids when he has a perfectly good blaster right there! I don’t know what the Longnecks put in his tube, but I hope to kriff it’s not contagious. I’d say I’m glad he has Kenobi to keep him in check, but that man wouldn’t know common sense if it punched his nose clean off his face. Flirting with General Grievous, ugh. I’d say he can do better, but honestly, they deserve each other.”

“And Wolffe - “, panting, Fox pauses, considering. “Well, Wolffe is an asshole and stupid, and I hate him because he’s stupid and has a stupid face. Also he keeps drunkenly submitting adoption paperwork on General Koon’s behalf - I wish I could say something mean about that, but honestly, his existence is roast enough. Anyways, bitches are trying me today, and by bitches I mean everyone. Commander Fox signing off to go not commit treason, unfortunately.”

Thoroughly powered out, Fox sinks into his hard mattress with a deep sigh. Several seconds of silence reign, and then his comm unit starts blaring in alarm.

Somewhere in the Jedi Temple, Mace Windu is knocked flat on his ass by a gargantuan shatterpoint exploding.

[genderqueerdykes]

I can't comment on your posts so, elaborate on how a man can be a lesbian? You insist on writing that they can without any backup to it.

there doesn't need to be "backup" for it, it's an identity. lesbianism is not a statistic that requires empirical evidence and research in order to make statements on. it's literally just an identity. this isn't a concrete thing that's set in stone, it's not a cosmic rule. identity is something that's unique for every person who experiences it. there's literally nothing stopping a man from identifying as a lesbian. there's nothing stopping women from identifying as gay. god won't descend from the heavens and smite or stop you from identifying this way. the world will not stop turning because male lesbians exist

you are not under threat because male lesbians exist.

i have no idea why people think specifically lesbianism has a high bar of entry, but it does not. men can be lesbians simply by identifying as a lesbian. it's that easy. it really is. you don't have to jump through hoops to "earn" an identity. if you would like "backup" for this, it's me. i'm right here. i'm a male lesbian talking to you in the flesh. lesbians can be genderfluid, multigender, bigender, non binary, men AND women, two spirit... any gender. there's no rules.

but if you seriously haven't read the works of Leslie Feinberg, they are mandatory reads to understand what we go through. Leslie was a polygender lesbian who needed to transition to male in order to feel like hir butch lesbian self. zie lived as a man for years before realizing zie was still a lesbian, but chose not to abandon hir manhood. zie lived as a transmasculine lesbian who also identified as a man for most of hir adult life. zie was a massive part of the lesbian activist community and did tons of work in paving the way for our community.

if you want to call yourself versed on what real lesbianism is, you cannot avoid reading hir works. they are essential in liberating one's self from antimasculism and transandrophobia. leslie was also a real, living, breathing male, transmasc, ftm, polygendered lesbian. ignoring the existence of transmasc, ftm and trans male butch lesbians is denying a huge part of our history and community.

listen to our community. talk to other lesbians than just cis white femmes. please actually do your own research on lesbian history, you are capable of researching these things, too. you don't have to rely on me if you don't want to take my word for things. i'm not the only male lesbian in existence. refusing to listen to transmasc, ftm, trans man and male butches erases a massive portion of our community's history. it silences people who have been here all along, whether or not you're able to accept that.

ask yourself why male lesbians in specific bother you, as opposed to any other "contradictory" queer identity. ask yourself why you have such a hard time with that, in specific. ask yourself why you are upholding a high bar of entry to lesbianism. there IS no bar of entry to lesbianism. you are one because you say you are. that is literally how identity works. you are one because you are one. no ifs, ands, or buts.

hope that helps.

[theoutcastrogue]

That said, the D&D 3.5 Paladin was bad. It was badly designed, it had bad rules, and in conjunction with the other notoriously bad rule, alignment, it could cause havoc.

Now personally, I never had ANY problems with it in my tabletop games. I played paladins and loved it, and I loved it when other people played paladins, and it was great. But that's because, collectively as a group, we took ONE look at that terrible rule where the paladin's code of conduct prevents them from associating with Evil characters or "someone who consistently offends her moral code", and immediately went, "that's stupid, we ain't doing that, it would ruin the game".

We also didn't love the concept of alignment as a cosmic force, and didn't care for Usually Evil Goblins and Always Evil anything. And when a class's signature ability fully depends on whether creatures are capital E Evil, well that affects storytelling, doesn't it? But we all saw it the same way, and we were happily able to change it without any disagreements. In the end we had a Paladin… similar to 5e now that I think of it: completely ignore the Code's association clause, tailor the Code to personal stance or a specific Order, Detect only fiends and undead and the like, Smite anything you want, Fall only if you really fuck up, and never presume that just because you haven't Fallen yet everything you've ever done is justified and correct and anyone who disagrees with you is objectively wrong.

Basically, there were 2 options in 3.5. You either houseruled and/or handwaved things, and in matters of alignment interpretations erred on the side of "what makes the game go",

OR, you played with Rules As Written, and filled the forums with questions like "should the paladin fall?" (one such thread per week, conservatively), "we got into a fight over the Paladin, what to do?", "is it Evil to pick pockets? because we have a Paladin in the party", "the Assassin uses poison, shouldn't that offend my moral code?", and shit like that. Just... pointless strife, all the time. Again, never happened to me, but I was appalled to read about it, over and over and over.

People got intense with 3.5 Paladins (both pro and against) because it was BADLY DESIGNED and had BAD RULES. Its mechanics forced narrative choices on the entire table, and the only way to make it frictionless was having a party where no one wishes to explore a character's bad side ever, no one does things that aren't bad but WotC branded Evil™ in this or that splatbook, and everyone magically agrees all the time on "what is right and what is wrong" and "what is Lawful and what is Chaotic", which is simply impossible. The most subjective thing in the world (ethics!) was presented as an objective cosmic force, and how you interpreted it would determine how much damage the Paladin deals in combat, and whether the Paladin could keep associating with the party, and if the Paladin is still a Paladin. And all that in a game, let's not forget, whose basic, fundamental premise is "kill things and take their stuff". I'm sorry, this is tremendously stupid. It's the WORST design.

I know that for some people it worked as written, and good for them, but for the many many people it didn't work, well it's obvious why.

[mmxxviii]

okay i don't know how wild of a take this is, but hear me out.

cassandra is not the god. kristen is.

now, in terms of game mechanics, that's not true. cassandra is very clearly a god, and kristen is her cleric and follower. kristen gets her powers from cassandra, cassandra gets worship from kristen (and presumably other people who kristen is recruiting).

but that's not how their relationship works.

gods also get power from their followers, you know? they get power from the worship they receive. except kristen isn't really doing a lot of worshipping right now. but you know who is? cassandra. she is begging, praying, for kristen to talk to her, to take time out of her day and all her responsibilities, to listen to the person that has put their faith in her. as much as kristen has faith in cassandra (even if she isn't actively recognizing it), cassandra has faith in kristen.

You don't have to be sorry. Hey, not too many people believe in me, but I believe in you. You brought me back, and I know you've been having a hard time, but when you're in the dark, I'm there holding your hand, okay?

in the last couple episodes, we've seen a lot about how kristen (and maybe craig) are the only ones keeping cassandra from oblivion. normally, it would be well within a god's power to strike down, to smite, anyone they wished, including one of their own followers. but if cassandra hurts kristen, she dies. meanwhile, kristen holds a very god-like power in her hands. she's already killed one god by rescinding her worship. she could very easily kill cassandra.

I see what you're saying. Yes, we are holding you from oblivion, and we're just kinda not doing a very good job right now. That's what you're kinda trying to tell me.

gods are busy. they try to listen to prayers, but they're so very busy and important. all cassandra has right now is kristen. that is her sole focus (aside from maybe not dying). kristen is busy. she ignores cassandra. cassandra texts kristen's friends to try and get kristen to talk to her. in that first episode or two, cassandra is desperate to be heard, to have a conversation, and kristen, who holds all the power, keeps shutting her down.

20 texts in a row saying, "Is Kristen mad at me?" From a goddess.

it isn't that kristen doesn't care. of course she does. gods always care. but her domain is mystery and doubt. she doesn't have all the answers. she isn't omnipotent. she is a teenager who has been thrust from clericdom to sainthood to godhood and she doesn't even know it.

kristen isn't the one bleeding red light. cassandra is.

if you're a cleric, and you let your god die, that's a failure. if you're a god and you let your cleric die, what is that?

[huramuna]

growing on you - oneshot.

modern aemond x (ex) girlfriend reader

content: smut (specifics under the cut), afab reader, angst, unhealthy coping mechanisms, descriptions of depression and its effect on the body, probably an unhealthy relationship, aemond being an idiot, probably ooc aemond, reader not described, no use of y/n, targtowers seek therapy: the story, fluff at the end bc hehe

work is 18+, minors do not interact or you shall be smited.

word count: 7.4k (oops)

a/n: i've had this one in the drafts for a while. tweaked to be a fun 'lil angsty end of year holiday fic. as is my motto: fuck it we ball. a/n 2: i pivoted from a third person pov fic to a second person pov fic 3/4 through writing this using the find and replace tool, so if there are grammar errors, i apologize! also my first time doing second person pov, weehee.

monsters - all time low ft. blackbear • why do i - set it off ft. hatsune miku

warnings: p in v, creampie, cockwarming, slightly tipsy sex

Everything in your life was enveloped by him. your clothes smelled like him, small strands of his hair were woven into every nook and cranny of your apartment together, his fitness regime protein powder and ketogenic supplements were littered in your kitchen cabinets. 

You couldn’t get rid of him, not even if you tried. Aemond was all you'd ever known— you have known one another since the age of seven, and have been in a relationship since fourteen. You were both now twenty-six. Twelve years you’ve been together romantically (longer, even, but you were both too stubborn to admit it) and nineteen years you’ve been in each other's lives in some capacity or another. 

You’ve been involved together longer than you’ve not known each other. You hardly knew who you were without Aemond— a thought that scared you deeply. 

It’s been two weeks since he moved out, only temporarily he’d said. He needed space. He would still pay his share of the rent and you didn’t need to worry about that. 

But what about everything else? What about him warming you at night? Comforting you when you had nightmares? What about his items in the fridge, surely you’d spoil if he didn’t use them soon. What about Vhagar? Their— no, his geriatric cat that he took with him to God knows where— she must be terrified, surely. 

Was he giving Vhagar her medicine before bed? Of course he was— he was the more responsible one anyway. 

You paced back and forth until the soles of your feet ached and then some. Knowing Aemond for so long, you had intimate knowledge on everything about him, you were woven into each other's DNA like vines on a trellis, growing and expanding until you swallowed all of the other plants whole. 

That is what happened, wasn’t it? You grew too large, too comfortable and became stagnant. You weren't unaware of his rising workload at his firm, but he had always been a workaholic— throughout their teenage years, through college and grad school. It never slowed him down so you didn’t understand the change in behavior. 

Aemond was closed off. He always was a bit emotionally stunted due to his upbringing or lack thereof from his father and everything that happened surrounding his eye, but he had a soft side for you, always for you. You could retrace every part of him perfectly from memory, always could make him laugh, could comfort him when he recused himself, and the rare times he did cry, you were there. 

But the last few months there was a shift— a change in him. Where he had been hard to open before, like a rusty hinge just requiring some oil, he was now padlocked, ironclad and impenetrable. Attempts to talk were shrugged off, ignored or diverted. 

“Please, just talk to me, Aemond,” you said one night as you sat on the couch. You were watching your collective favorite show and he wasn’t even commenting on it like he usually did, he was silent and deadpanned. “I don’t understand what’s wrong if you don’t talk about it.” 

“There's nothing wrong, therefore, nothing to talk about. I’m just tired from work,” he responded gruffly. “Stop whining.” 

His tone was clipped and harsh, sending a wave of hurt trickling through your body. you were overly emotional, where he was under emotional— usually, you balanced each other out and struck a good middle ground, but in times like these, during fights, things would get explosive. 

The tears started right away, your little sniffling cries stifled by a hand over your mouth. You turned away, wrapping yourself in the blanket. 

“Seriously?” he growled, “I didn’t even say anything and you’re fucking crying again.”

“I d-don’t appreciate your tone, Aemond— you’re being mean,” you sniffed, wiping away tears that were soon just replaced by new ones. “Please, don’t be mean to me.” you were always soft hearted, and it was one of the things Aemond loved about you— or he had loved at one point. 

“I’m not being mean,” he pinched his brow, “you’re overreacting and I do not have the capacity to deal with your antics anymore.” 

Of course, your mind hit the panic button. ‘Anymore’ meaning that he didn’t want to deal with you at all, ever. The tears increased and you recused yourself further into a ball. 

“Fucking hell.” he cursed, getting up from the couch and stomping outside to the balcony, lighting up a cigarette. He was out there for about an hour— you had cried yourself to sleep. 

It was many situations like that for weeks that finally just… broke him. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said one day, slamming his keys down on the kitchen table, “I seriously cannot deal with your childish shit anymore— I’m working my ass off at the firm, actually bringing in money and I still have to come home and tend to you. you’re twenty-six, grow up and stop crying at every little thing. It’s fucking infuriating.” 

“You know I can’t control that part of me!” you screamed back, your temper rising immediately to match his. The words flowing out of your mouth didn’t feel like yours, but some sort of defensive mechanism. “You can’t do this anymore? You’re not doing anything Aemond, except pushing me away. God, you haven’t even touched me in weeks.” 

“Oh, so this is about sex?” he countered, getting closer to you, nostrils flaring. “You’re mad because I won’t fuck you? Are you that desperate?” 

That one stung, to be sure. Aemond had been your first and only— you only ever knew him, only ever had him. “No, not just sex,” you murmured, “you haven’t even… just touched me normally. No hugs, no little caresses, nothing— it's as if I’m an aversion to you.”

He backed up from you, “Maybe we’re just too close,” he admitted, “We’ve been together too long. It's not fun anymore, it’s not new— it’s the same old, same old, going through the motions for release, not because I actually like it.” 

“I don’t understand.” you said, your voice sounding disconnected from your body. The tips of your fingers felt numb, the numbness spreading through your body, your heart pounding in your chest as if it wanted to escape. 

“I need space. I need to think about this.” 

“This?”

“Us. I need to think about us and if this is something I really want,” he paused, “You’re… too much and not enough right now.” 

“Wh— Aemond, please,” you whispered, your voice broken, “What can I do? I’ll… I’ll change, I won’t cry or whine anymore— please.” 

He stared at you, his prosthetic eye unmoving while his remaining one bored into you, “I will think about it.” 

“What… does this mean?”

“We are taking a break, alright? I’ll have my essentials out and I’m going to stay with Aegon.” 

“Please— don’t go. I need you.” 

That was the end of that conversation. That was the last time you spoke, two weeks ago. You expected him to text you at some point, to check in on you, to maybe try to talk things out. 

Nothing. There's been nothing. Radio silence. 

You felt isolated— you had no family, as your parents were estranged from you. you couldn’t go to Aemond’s family, as close as you were to them all, it just simply wasn’t an option. 

You didn’t have friends. All you knew was Aemond. 

It was early in the evening and you were in a deep pit of self-loathing. You decided to text him. 

You swallowed thickly— the green meant he either turned off his phone or blocked you. You hoped that it wasn’t the latter. 

The next few weeks were a blur. You felt like you were barely living, merely going through the motions to stay alive— not that you really were. 

You woke up, went to work, came home, scrounged up food and then went to sleep. Rinse and repeat.

Weeks become months of your monotony, and no word from Aemond. He still had half of his stuff left in the apartment, you felt like you could barely breathe. At every turn there was something to remind you of him. 

You’d lived in this apartment together for four years, the evidence of your relationship etched into the very walls. It was like the space was closing in on you and you couldn’t catch your breath, barely keeping your head above water. 

You had to move out— you had to get away. 

You managed to find a place, a cheap studio above a coffee shop downtown. The landlord was an old lady who was sympathetic to your situation and agreed to let you take the space quickly. 

There was still the matter of your and Aemond’s current apartment— or, rather, it was just Aemond’s now. 

Saving yourself the embarrassment of seeing if you were still blocked, you called Aegon. He was a better messenger than none. 

“Hey, Egg,” you said, sitting on the couch. you bounced your knee up and down, biting at the skin of your lip. You and Aegon were amicable, not necessarily as close as you and Aemond, but you grew up together. Aegon ran in different social circles than you and you were somewhat polar opposites so you never really stuck— you did have your phases of friendship, though– which pissed Aemond off to no end. “Um, I don’t know if this is the right way to go about things but, do you mind relaying a message to Aemond for me?”

“Yeah, ‘spose I could. What’s up?” Aegon replied, his tone nonchalant like usual.

“I’m moving out of the apartment into my own place, so I guess he can go back. I’ll have all my stuff out by tomorrow.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” Aegon said, “He’s been driving me up the wall with his tidy, feng shui bullshit. He rearranged my whole place like five times and has taken up all the space in my cabinets with that nasty no-carb shit,” he paused for a moment, “I… didn’t mean that in a bad way to you, ‘course. I’m sorry it had to come to this. He’s a fucking idiot.”

That made you laugh, genuinely. Your first laugh in months. “Yeah– he… tends to do that. He left half of his stuff here, it feels like I’m living in the twilight zone. I just… gotta get away, you know?”

“Hey, I get that– you don’t have to explain yourself to me. He’s a dickhead and doesn’t understand how good he has it. If you want, I can bring my truck over tomorrow and help you move stuff.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, Egg.”

“I want to– please.”

Your brow furrowed– Aegon usually wasn’t so persistent on anything unless it involved drinking or drugs. But, you hadn’t had real human contact in eons besides at work so… maybe it could be good.

“Okay, see you tomorrow. Thank you, really.”

–

It was rainy the next day– nasty and wet, droplets pouring down like tears. It felt somewhat familiar.

But, Aegon showed up like he promised, rolling up in his old, fading yellow pick-up truck. His hair was much shorter than you remembered and he looked actually well kept– Aemond must’ve been whipping him into shape.

He waved and ran through the rain, standing under the eave, “So– it’s raining.”

You snorted, “I think I can see that,” you teased with a tiny smile, “Not sure when it’ll let up.”

“I brought uh…” he paused for a moment to think, stretching out his arms in a square shape, “Y’know?”

“A tarp?” 

“Yup– that,” he gave a lopsided grin, inviting himself in through the open door, “you aren’t going to kick me out if I don’t take off my shoes, right?”

You glanced down at his boots– they were a bit muddy and definitely wet. Aemond wouldn’t have let him step two feet through the threshold without taking them off. But– you weren't Aemond. “No, keep them on if you want. It’s not my problem if you track dirt through the place anyway.”

He nodded, taking his phone out of his pocket for a moment and shooting a quick message to someone. “Sorry I haven’t been around, it’s just… he’s my brother. It would be kind of… I dunno, crossing some sort of unsaid boundary if I visited his… girlfriend?”

“Ex-girlfriend. I guess,” you corrected softly– but you didn’t really know yourself what it was. He wouldn’t talk to you, “It’s fine. I didn’t expect anyone to really reach out anyway, because of that… unsaid boundary thing.”

“We should’ve. you’re a part of our family with or without Aemond. Me, Helaena and Daeron have a whole group chat about it. Even mom asked where you’ve been,” he scratched the back of his head absentmindedly as he sent out another text, “Someone should’ve checked up sooner.”

“You’re acting like I’m some sort of neglected puppy, Aegon,” you turned to him, “... do I really look so terrible?”

Aegon glanced up at you, his mouth formed in a hard line. He cracked his knuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “I won’t lie to you. You look half dead.”

You blinked. Hard. Moving towards a mirror in the hall, you looked at yourself. Dark circles under sunken eyes, your skin was a pale pallor and your hair needed a trim desperately, your split ends curled and fettered. You were gaunt, as well– having lost a bit of weight over the months. “Jesus,” you muttered. Glancing over at Aegon, he was texting again. “Sending an update to the group chat, I guess? ‘Good news, she’s still alive, barely’?”

He snorted, “Yeah– something like that,” finally, he locked his phone and slipped it in his pocket. “I made sure to text Aemond, too.”

Your mouth felt dry at the mention. “Why?”

“He asked.”

“Asked?”

“He asked me to… make sure you were okay.”

Goosebumps prickled at your skin, the ever familiar feeling of nausea and despair swirling in the pit of your stomach. Nibbling at your lip more, you turned away, feeling a bit too exposed. “And what’d you say?”

“I said you were alive but you are not okay.”

Your lips pursed into a line as you tasted a bit of copper in your mouth from chewing on your lip. “I guess that’s right,” you muttered, “Why would he ask?”

“Aemond is… complicated. you know that better than anyone. I don’t know what kind of bug he has up his ass these last few months but… even through all of this, he still cares.”

“Like hell he does,” you snapped, feeling the sting of tears, “If he did, he would’ve given us a chance to talk it out, to… to try, maybe even go to therapy, I don’t fucking know– he would’ve reached out– anyone should’ve reached out,” your hand went to your hair, right at your hairline at your scalp, picking at the hairs there– another self-destructive habit you’ve picked up in your months of isolation, “I’m so fucking alone, Aegon. He knows… you all know I have absolutely no one else. I’ve been going through this on my own. I have no friends, no family– no brother to go live with when I need space, no family group chat. I don’t have shit, Aegon. All I’ve ever known in my life is him and you and Helaena and Daeron and mom. Why… why does it feel like I was cast off the island without even… a tribal council or something?” you sniffed, the tears coming in full force now. 

Aegon was silent, coming up behind you. “I’m… sorry,” he murmured, putting his hands on your shoulders, as frail and skeletal as you were, “We should’ve been better. We… will be better.” he turned you around and pulled you into his chest, enveloping you in his arms. “We thought you would’ve been… fine without him. He made it seem like that– that you were strong enough. I only figured it out yesterday when he was up my ass about texting him as soon as I saw you. He needed to know if you were feeding yourself, if you were keeping up with your medication, if you still had nightmares. A fuckin’... laundry list of questions– I told him to stick his questions up where the sun don’t shine and to see for himself,” he took a breath, “He settled on one question– if you were okay.”

“I think he got his fucking answer, then,” you whispered, “I am not okay. I haven’t been okay in months. I… I need help.”

“I know,” Aegon shifted you slightly to look at your face, “We’ll help you– I promise, you won’t be alone anymore. Look, I’ll even add you to the group chat, okay? I’ll rename it to ‘Aemond Sucks’, how does that sound?” 

You cracked a tiny smile, sniffling. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

– 

You ended up moving your belongings to your new place the same day, effectively ridding yourself of the constant shadow of Aemond’s memory.

Aegon even took you to Michael’s and HomeGoods to get stuff for your little studio, so you could really make it yours. It was a bit intimidating at first– you weren't used to being able to decorate things the way you wanted, as Aemond always opted to keep things simple and minimalistic. 

You, admittedly, went all out. Your new studio looked like a Pinterest board titled ‘cottagecore’. You were incredibly happy with it all, practically jumping up and down at it.

“It looks so good! I love these little mushroom chairs you picked out, Egg,” you hummed, patting some plush felted stools in the shape of mushrooms, which you put near the window. “I bet Helaena would love it.”

“Let’s take some pictures for the group chat, Hel will literally be all over this. you two always love that cottagecore, fairycore, fantasy… shit.” he grinned, stooping down to take some very out of perspective pictures of the mushroom chairs, making them look fifty feet tall.

You settled into your new place quickly, having Helaena, Aegon and Daeron over quite often for drinks and movies. Your health steadily improved until you were mostly back to normal physically– there would be a lot of scars internally, however that would take longer to heal, if you ever would. You had developed a trust issue complex since Aemond’s unceremonious exit from your life and hadn’t gone on any dates, you didn’t know when or if you would ever be ready. They did you the courtesy of not mentioning Aemond, until Daeron said something odd.

It was about four months after you moved in, and almost a full year since you’d last seen Aemond. You were all a few mixed drinks in, Aegon had made them and you were heavy on the alcohol, light on the ‘mix’, and you were all kicked back on the couch, with Aegon laying on the mushroom chairs stacked next to each other, lazed back like a cat. 

“Mom says she wants you over for Christmas dinner,” Daeron said, taking a sip of his drink, “She figured it’d be fine with Aemond going off with his new…” he blinked, catching himself. 

Helaena nudged Daeron in the ribs as a warning, staring at their friend warily.

“... his new? His new what?” you asked, your voice so quiet that it must’ve been like a squeak.

“... new girlfriend.” he finished.

You were silent for a while before sighing. “I figured it would happen eventually. I can only hope that it… wasn’t too soon after we broke up– or whatever… happened.”

“We all told him it was fucked up that he just left and ghosted you, lovey. Even mom got on his ass about it, and he is her favorite child who usually can do no wrong.” Helaena put her drink down, wrapping her arm around you. “You should come to Christmas dinner, everyone would be super happy to see you! And Aemond won’t be there, so even more reason to come. Please.” she whimpered, using her best puppy-dog face.

You mulled it over in your mind for a few moments. You couldn’t think of anything more painful than being alone during the holidays, so you nodded.

–

It was snowing on Christmas day, the flurries coming down and melting against your skin as you waited for Aegon to pick you up. You were wearing a red checkered tapestry dress with a flannel jacket, a white fluffed scarf wrapped around your neck and lower face. As soon as you saw the familiar color of Aegon’s truck, you practically booked it into the passenger seat. 

“Merry Christmas, you look fantastic,” Aegon mused, ever the charmer. “I’ve got the heater on full blast, I promise– but y’know my old boy’s puttering these days. We’ll need to get some speed for it to really warm up.” 

“Mmm,” you murmured, your teeth chattering, “S’cold.” 

He reached back and grabbed a well-used blanket, draping it over your legs. “Better?”

“... yeah– but,” you blinked, raising a brow. “What do you have this in the truck for?”

Aegon laughed as he began the drive to his family’s estate. “I think you know.”

“Please don’t tell me you’ve fucked someone on this blanket, Aegon.”

“Someones– not just someone. But I keep it clean, no worries!”

The drive to the Targaryen estate was about an hour and a half from town, nestled deep into an expansive forest where there weren’t any other homes in at least five miles. It was a gorgeous, Victorian style mansion and according to Daeron, was most certainly haunted. You had been here numerous times, of course, but it’d been a while. As you pulled up in the driveway, you saw Alicent standing outside the door dressed in a gorgeous red and green festive dress, hair curled to perfection. Nothing less was expected of Alicent, though.

“Oh, my darling,” Alicent cooed, holding her arms out to caress who she thought of as her fifth child. “It’s been too long, I’ve missed you.” 

Your heart warmed under Alicent’s caress, someone who had become more of a mother figure to you than your actual mother. You sniffed, pressing your forehead into Alicent’s shoulder. “Missed you too, mom.” 

“Come on, you both can cry inside in the nice toasty house, yeah? I’m freezing my balls off here, mom.” 

Alicent huffed, ushering both of you inside. “Don’t be vulgar, son– it’s Christmas.”

Helaena and Daeron were already there, as well as Otto, who gave you a stiff nod as a greeting, as was his usual means of communication.

You settled into the kitchen, Alicent pouring everyone apple cider and dishing out at least six types of holiday themed cookies. About an hour after arriving, there was a knock on the door. 

“Oh, that must be Rhaenyra and Laena. Can you answer the door, darling? I need to take the roast out of the oven. I’m sure they would be happy to see you!” 

“Mhm!” you mused through bites of cookies. You loved Rhaenyra and Laena, who were technically married with husbands, as was Alicent, but the three of them were in a secret, not so secret to anyone with eyes, polyamorous relationship. It always amused all of their kids when they tried to hide it. 

You turned the doorknob, fully expecting to see Rhaenyra and Laena. It was not. 

Aemond.

“Fuck.” you blurted out, eyes wide. It had been the better part of a year since you had last seen him. His hair was longer now, gathered into a low bun at the nape of his neck, his cheeks a bit more gaunt. He still wore his earrings and his rings– including the one you had given him almost a decade ago. 

“Shit.” he responded, seemingly caught equally off guard by seeing you again. The pupil of his non-prosthetic eye dilated until the iris was almost consumed in black, before he flexed his hand and reeled himself in. 

You couldn’t help but notice he was alone– no ‘new girlfriend’ as Daeron had put it. “Aemond,” you breathed, feeling like you were outside of your own body, your head filled with fluff and static. “Merry… Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” he responded gruffly, “Can I come in?”

“Oh– yeah, duh,” you chastised yourself, stepping aside to let him in. “Sorry.”

“Mm.” he grunted in his usual manner. That seemed to be a habit he hadn’t dropped. 

You all but retreated to the kitchen, the expression on your face telling everything. Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena gathered around you.

“I didn’t invite him, I swear.” Aegon whispered.

“Well, neither did I!” Daeron professed.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t invite him. He left me on read three weeks ago when I sent him a picture of a bug on my windowsill.” Helaena sniffed.

A new voice chimed in. “I invited him,” Alicent spoke, breaking up the little posse, “I told him to come over or he would be grounded for three months.” 

All four of you stared at Alicent, deadpanned. 

“Mom– he’s… almost twenty-seven. you can’t ground him,” Daeron said, confused. “And moreover, why? Wasn’t he busy?”

“Well, first off, he is my son, so I wanted to see him for Christmas. Two, I believe we have someone here who has some unresolved issues with him.” Alicent responded, staring right at you pointedly.

“... I don’t know… I… I don’t know if I can talk to him. It’s been too long… I feel like I was just getting over all of this.”

“Well, do I have any say in this?” Aemond barged into the circle, his hands in his pockets. 

You suddenly felt overwhelmed, the familiar bubbling of everything being too much rising in your stomach. You were teleported back to months ago when you were barely alive, trapped in your own mind. “I… I need… I need a minute.” you muttered, your voice sounding distorted as you made your way to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. Chest heaving, you were already crying, the waterworks starting somewhere between the hallway and the sink. 

“You’re always fucking crying, I can’t take it anymore.” Aemond’s voice from months and months ago echoed in your head, causing the tears to flow more. You bit against your lip, tasting blood right away as you willed yourself to stop crying. 

“S-stop… stop crying,” you whispered, fingers messing up your hair as you held fistfuls of it. You couldn’t catch your composure for the life of you, sliding against the bathroom wall onto the floor.

Vision blurring, you don’t know how long you were incoherent for. When you came back to yourself, Aemond was in front of you, crouched down.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, the door closed behind him, “It’s okay.”

You swallowed, still numb as he pried your fists from your head, out of your hair, smoothing it down.

“Look at me, can you do that? Nod if you can hear me.”

You nodded slowly, the feeling coming back to your extremities in a sprightly tickling sensation. You blinked tears from your eyes, the liquid smearing your vision. 

Aemond rasped a thumb over your eyes, effectively clearing the obstruction from your vision. “Just breathe,” he continued to whisper. It was ever reminiscent of when he would calm you down after a nightmare, voice low and scratchy in a way that comforted you. He was so close now, closer than he’d been in forever. He still smelled the same, the scent triggering a deep aching within your chest. A scent that took you forever to get rid of, but you never truly could. “Can… we talk?” he asked then, his voice sounding more vulnerable than ever. 

It felt like whiplash, visions of your previous fights plaguing you, where he had been so closed off, so far away, so distant that you couldn’t reach him– and now, he was here. In the present, in the flesh. In front of you, opened. Not opened completely, but you could see it, like the slit of a cracked door, the light bleeding through. It was there.

“... yeah.”

“I… I’m… I’m sorry. What I did was fucked up. It was fucked up and wrong and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

“You’re right about that,” you muttered, pulling your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. “I didn’t deserve it.” 

Aemond’s mouth twitched slightly before he sat down next to you, propping up his legs in a criss-cross. He opened his mouth to speak a few times, before closing it. His hands flexed and unflexed in quick succession– he was clearly thinking very carefully about his next words. “... I’ve… got issues. You know that better than anyone. I don’t know what was going through my head those months that we fought. I can hardly remember it now, it was like… I was in a fog, a haze– I was working myself half to death, I just wanted dad to notice, to fucking… appreciate me,” he put his hands on his head, “I was so… tied up in this illusion that if I made junior associate at the firm so young that he would congratulate me on my achievement and…” Aemond let out a sigh, “And… in the process… I pushed you away.”

You looked at him, feeling your gaze soften ever so slightly. You knew that his father was a sore spot for him and that trauma ran deep. “You didn’t just push me away, Aemond,” you sighed, reaching out a shaky hand to pry one of his from his face. “... if you would’ve just talked to me, I could’ve helped. You didn’t push… you… you shoved, you shoved and ran in the other direction.”

His one violet eye danced towards you. “I know. I’ve been kicking myself for it. When Aegon told me you weren’t doing well… I almost left work to see you.”

“... you did?”

“Yeah. Aegon basically told me not to– that… this was something you needed space for. Kind of like I did but… maybe in a more healthy way.”

“A text wouldn’t have hurt.” 

He reached into his pocket and took out his phone– his wallpaper was still the same as it was, a picture of you, him and Vhagar very unhappy in an elf costume. He scrolled to his notes app, which was filled with messages addressed to you. “... I thought it might, after what Aegon had said. I was… ashamed of how I acted, how I handled the whole thing– how I left you alone without a word. He told me how you looked… dead. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Your eyes scanned the messages, picking out some words. The main ones that caught your gaze were ‘sorry’, ‘love’, ‘regret’. A huge breath left your lungs, feeling as if everything had been knocked out of you at once. You felt like you were being whipped back and forth in the wind, trying to grab onto anything. If you both weren’t so stubborn and just messaged one another– well, no. You did message him, one time. “I thought you blocked me.” 

“... for five minutes, maybe.”

“God, we’re so fucking stupid, Aemond.”

“You aren’t– don’t say that. I’m literally a dumbass. All of my siblings told me so, even my own mother, and you know she never curses.”

The tiniest of smiles cracked onto your face as you jostled his shoulder. “Yeah… you are a dumbass. I am allowed to say it at least once. So, um,” you shuffled slightly, “Daeron kind of let it slip that you had a new girlfriend?”

Aemond pinched his brow. “Of course he said that. He is twenty-one years old and still doesn’t know how to use his goddamn ears. I said I was seeing a new therapist, not that I had a fucking girlfriend.”

“A therapist?”

“... things got really dark for me after I moved back into our… no, my… place. After you officially moved out. It felt lifeless, all of your things were gone, the fucking warmth sucked out of the place. It felt like it’d been sterilized of anything… good. I feel into something– I don’t know, a depression? I guess, that’s what Aegon called it. He suggested I see a therapist, citing me as ‘an emotionally stunted asshole who needs more therapy than him’.” he exaggerated the last bit with air quotes, rolling his eye.

“... he isn’t wrong. I mean, I love your family, but all of you are all kinds of fucked up. Maybe I am too, practically being a part of it.”

Aemond chuckled, giving a tight lipped smile. “We are fucked up. I realized that… I really do not give a shit what my dad thinks, because nothing will ever be good enough for him. He’s so far gone now that he probably doesn’t even know we exist. I’ve come to terms with that and honestly… it feels like a weight has been lifted.”

“I’m glad you could… work through some of that, Aemond.” you say sincerely, resting your cheek on his arm absentmindedly. 

“... I want to talk about us.”

“... us. Okay.”

“I don’t expect you to want to jump right back into things. It would be unfair to think that– but… maybe we could try?”

Your chest feels a bit tight at his admission– he wanted to try. Every fiber in your being wanted to say yes and jump back into it like you’d never left. But you knew you couldn’t. There were still parts of you scarred by this whole experience, some parts that may never heal. It would take a long time and a lot of talks like this to even get some semblance of what the both of you had. “Well… before we were together, believe it or not, we were friends. Could we… try that for right now?”

His chest visibly deflated a bit, but he nodded. “Whatever you need, okay?”

–

The days following Christmas, leading up to New Year’s were… different. You and Aemond were back in contact, going out for coffee and lunch a few times.

On the day before New Year’s eve, you texted him.

Turns out, timing the movie to sync with 12 am on New Year’s day to Toby Maguire saying ‘Pizza time’ was difficult. Well, it wasn’t difficult for normal people– but you and Aemond were a bit tipsy, as Aegon had left some hard apple ciders in your fridge, to which you both indulged.

“Okay, okay,” Aemond stared at his phone, “5… 4… 2… wait, no, fuck, 3… 2… I think we fucked it up– just go, go!”

Quickly, you started the movie. “Maybe we should’ve practiced– can we start over?” you plopped on the couch, sinking into the sofa and taking a swig of the cider.

“Doesn’t work like that, sweetheart. Can’t turn back time.” he mused softly, squatting down on one of the mushroom stools. “Pretty comfy.”

“Aegon picked those out, nifty, huh?”

“Nifty.” he parroted. 

The movie continued on, but as it went on, there was an unspoken tension growing. Aemond hadn’t sat on the couch, but rather, the stools that were on the other side of the room. It felt like a chasm had formed, the strain almost palpable. 

You chewed on your lip anxiously, contemplating whether or not to say anything. But, you had both been trying a new technique called ‘communication’ – a pretty cool and helpful thing that Aemond’s therapist had taught him. You remember laughing when he posed it that same way– but it was extremely important. You cleared your throat. “Why are you sitting all the way over there?”

“... um. I wanted to try the mushroom seats, I guess.”

“You don’t want to sit next to me?” you countered, feeling especially brave. 

“Is that… alright?” 

“Um, duh. I invited you over for pizza and a movie so we could… sit together. Not for you to be half a mile away sitting on a mushroom.”

“As long as it’s alright with you.” he murmured, sitting up from the mushroom stool and making his way over to you, sliding onto the couch, still a few feet away from you.

You weren’t sure if it was the atmosphere, the pent up emotions, the small buzz of alcohol, or a destructive cocktail of all three, but you inched closer to him. Closer, closer… until your thighs were touching. You glanced up at him beneath fettered lashes. “Hi.”

“Hey.” he responded, his voice low and warm. It caused a balmy and comforting vibration to go through you, reverberating in your chest. 

You became all too aware of your movements, your closeness to him, the skin of your thigh grazing against his jeans as you got as close as you could. Your lips parted slightly as he stared back down at you. “Can… we?”

“Can we, what?” he murmured, lacing his fingers through your loose hair, gently grasping it at the nape of your neck. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“... kiss. A little bit.”

“Just a little bit?” 

“Mhm. A teeny bit.” you leaned up, Aemond meeting you halfway as your lips came together. The culmination of your year apart, all of the emotions, the sadness, the frustration and anger, the passion, love, tears– all of it came together at this moment as the two of you melded together perfectly, as if you’d never left. You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of contentment, followed by what could only be articulated as a moan. 

It caught both of you off guard, Aemond pulling away for a moment, his lips still ghosting over yours. “Fucking hell,” he breathed against your skin, sending goosebumps tingling from your tailbone up to the nape of your neck, the hairs on your body standing on end. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” you responded before latching onto him once more. It started off loving and slow, your lips moving against one another like two old lovers dancing together– then it began to heat up, your mouth parting to accommodate his tongue, gnashing against yours as their dance turned up a notch. Your hands roamed his body, everything you committed to memory for so many years still in its same spot. It felt good, it felt like home. “Please, Aemond– I… I need you. It’s been so long… too long…”

“Too long since I’ve had you, had this,” his hand reached down, cupping your mound still hidden beneath your panties. Somehow, you foresaw this moment before it happened and thankfully wore a light dress. “Let me in, love.”

You parted your legs, feeling the ever familiar crook of his fingers slide down the front of your panties, testing the waters. The pad of his thumb and middle finger locked on instantly to your clit, swirling the sensitive bud, sending electric shocks through your extremities. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, pressing your forehead against his. “Need you inside, now.” you all but growled as you peppered little kisses along the soft flesh of his neck.

He wouldn’t keep you waiting long, as it seemed he needed this as much as you did. He parted your panties to the side, propping you on top of him and sliding you down his length, earning a hissed gasp from both of you. It took all of his strength not to burst in you right then, as you enveloped him in your tight, wet heat. “You were made for me,” he breathed, biting down on your shoulder, leaving red marks. One of his favorite things to do was to mark you, leaving hickies in his wake as he worshiped every inch of exposed skin he could reach. “Melded so perfectly, just for me.” he grabbed the flesh of your bottom, squeezing gently at first, then landing a smack on it as he began to thrust up into you.

You nodded fervently, hiccuping little moans as you dug your face into his shoulder, biting him in turn. Your nails sunk into his skin, indenting against his spine as they always had, as they always were meant to. It felt much like a pianist resting their fingers on the ivories after a long break, the pads of your fingers sinking into the ridges of his very being. You were meant to be here, he was meant to be here. You could feel your end coming on all too soon, his cock filling every nook and cranny of you, bullying that spongy, delicate sweet spot just right. You began to clench, your tell-tale sign to him that you were close. 

“I love you,” he whispered, panting slightly, using one hand to push your face back so you could meet his gaze. His wild, pupil-blown out gaze, cheeks reddened, mouth parted, brow furrowed. “I love you, I fucking love you. I missed you– fuck.”

“I l-love you,” you responded before he parted your lips with his thumb, “Love you so much– p-please, s’close.” you whined into his mouth.

“Let go, sweetheart, c’mon,” he grinned against your lips, nipping and biting at them. “Come for me.”

That was all you needed, the twine of your climax coming undone right in your core, snapping like a taut thread. Your usual habit was to hide your face in his shoulder when you came, whimpering and panting– but he didn’t let you this time. He held your face, staring at you intently as if you were a piece of fine art on display, and he was a connoisseur. 

You clenched around him tightly, spurring him to his own end. His hard wrought fingers gripped your ass like it was a lifeline, grunting as he found his release deep within you, where it was always meant to be. 

Coming down from your high, you slumped against his chest, mouth parted. Embarrassingly enough, a little drool wetted your lips. You were fully and thoroughly fucked out, not even registering that Tobey Maguire said “Pizza time!”

“Happy New Year, love,” Aemond murmured against your hair, nestling you tightly against him. He didn’t pull out– he preferred it this way, having you warm him through until you both fell asleep. 

“... Happy New Year,” you whispered back.

–

Two and a half months later, it was Valentine's day. You and Aemond were officially dating again as of January 2nd, much to the surprise of no one. 

You both took things as slow as you could, keeping separate apartments for the time being– but you’d given him a key to your place about two weeks in, and he was there all the time, taking much needed leave from work. 

Unlocking the door to your apartment, you walked in, seeing Aemond lounging on the couch with a scruffy brown furball on him. 

“Oh, Vhagar! You brought my baby,” you mused, dropping your items (with some grace, so as not to scare the geriatric cat), walking over, “Oh, I hope she remembers me.” you frowned, kneeling down and offering your hand to her.

“Of course she’ll remember, she yelled at me for a good three months at Aegon’s when we were without you.”

Vhagar sniffed your hand for a good minute before blinking her sleepy, lazy eyes at you, then promptly rubbing her scraggly cheek fur on your hand. You were elated, scratching her cheeks, hearing the tinkling of a little bell. 

“A new collar?” 

“Mhm, take a look.”

You swirled the collar around, looking for the name tag– only to find… a ring. An opal and moonstone ring. Your heart stopped in your chest as you stared at Aemond.

“I would get down on one knee– I was intending on you coming home and Vhagar running to you and then you finding it… but she’s on me, and I can’t get up. Cat rules,” he mused, unclipping the collar from her neck and slipping the ring onto your finger. “I know we’ve only been dating for… a month and a half, so stop me if it’s too soon.” he grinned, his toothy smile.

Vhagar gave a croaking meow, promptly jumping off of Aemond’s lap. As soon as the old cat was off, you threw yourself at Aemond, blubbering. “This… this…” you sniffed, unable to form words.

“Just so there isn’t any confusion… will you marry me?” he asked, wiping your tears away with his thumb.

“Yes, yes– I will,” you sniffle, burying your face in his chest and sobbing. 

He let you sob on him, getting his shirt all snotty and wet, all while smiling. 

After crying for at least ten minutes, you manage to take a picture, sending it to the group chat, with the caption: “I think we should add him to the chat now, guys.”

Ding.

“Is this group chat named ‘Aemond sucks’?” 

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Castiel pining over Jimmy Novak's best friend (S4)—why do you care for his vessel and not him?

Yandere Castiel became aware of your presence the day he became aware that Jimmy Novak was the person who would be his vessel. He didn't think much of you, simply another human amongst all the others. However, all humans are his father's creations. You seemed like what could be called a good friend—loyal. That is something he could relate to. A loyalty that in the beginning he respected wholeheartedly.

A positive beginning that aged like hard cider into a celestial being's desire of possession and obsess.

Yandere Castiel first met you face to face after possessing Jimmy's body. You had heard about his vessel's troubles and had come rushing over. It's an experience he will never forget.

You parked your vehicle in the driveway and ran out of your car in a panic. He could feel your heightened anxiety and panic, and he almost felt something. It was so peculiar. It made his eyebrows furrow and his nose scrunch up.

He was planning on simply leaving, but you stood in front of him and pestered him with questions. When Jimmy's daughter came out, you told her, 'Me and your daddy are just going for a walk. He isn't feeling well, so we are going to get some fresh air.' Which Castiel thought was ludicrous. He tried to rebuff by telling you 'He is an angel of the Lord and that Jimmy Novak is his vessel—to which you promptly clamped your hand over his mouth and scolded him. 

He isn't entirely sure why he got in your human vehicle. He could have simply whisked himself and continued on the mission heaven gave him. He was supposed to. Still, with this unfamiliar reaction to you, he couldn't help but rationalize it as you being important to the celestial plane somehow. 

So that's how he ended up in a human hospital with you filling out papers that pertain to Jimmy.

Yandere Castiel found no need to pretend, so that's how he ended up dragging you into angelic affairs. Or perhaps it was the other way around. You were quite insistent on staying near him after he explained the situation to the extent he was allowed. There wasn't even a hesitance on your part. You were simply protective over his vessel, despite the fact he is the multidimensional being inside the vessel.

That's when that odd sensitivity popped up once again.

It was almost like you were just as concerned for him as you were for Jimmy. It was quite a useless emotion for you to have, but he was still... flattered? by it.

Yandere Castiel reluctantly separated himself from you to an extent. You had attracted attention from both heaven and hell, so he had to. He had to. Right?

Heaven wasn't pleased with him getting distracted. They essentially wanted to allow you to wander back into the world with no angelic protection. It's like leading a lamb to the slaughter. Now Castiel is no stranger to that. He's watched his brothers and sisters slaughter humans for much less egregious acts. Though this time it felt wrong.

He ended up warding you from all angels, including himself, with your consent, of course. He left a specific engraving on your ribs that roughly translates to 'mine. touch this human and I will smite you where you stand.'

Yandere Castiel felt as if his grace had been ripped from him when he was away from you. Could God have created you specially for him? It was an impossible thought. One no angel should have for a human. That's how mighty beings fall. It is heaven's number one rule not to love anything, not even the humanity their God created.

He pushed himself into the mission he was given and tried to ignore the sizzling sensation all over his celestial body. It's a spiritual reaction to being left without your presence for an extended period of time.

He worked with Uriel, then had to kill his brother. He had to kill many more for you to protect you. He met the Winchesters and learned about them; grew attached. Anna tempted him into developing the capacity for human emotion. He was so lost. You were; you are the only thing that makes him feel found—safe.

He took that safety from himself in order to protect you.

Foolishly, he seeked you and, in return, your presence.

That's when heaven knew they had to reprimand him.

Yandere Castiel experienced things up there that would physically not only break a lesser being's psyche but erase it. If anything, it only made that sizzling sensation evolve into a scorching one. It was as if his feathers were being stripped off one by one. An unforgiving hand that forces him towards you. The heart he doesn't have broke and learned to yearn.

Like an obedient soldier, he listened to their words. He swore his loyalty once again, and he was allowed back onto Earth. He didn't go to Jimmy first, no. He scoured the earth and thought you were gone for good until you called for him. That was a rash human decision. You were only hidden unless you made yourself known.

Yandere Castiel had to come and see you. He had to explain himself and rid this fiery ache from his celestial body. Only when he came to your call, your first question was about Jimmy, not him. You looked past him. You ignored the agony that was everywhere on him.

Why? That feeling didn't ease at your lack of care for the angel in front of you.

Your demands to know where Jimmy was and if his family was safe fell deafly on him. He had to put you in your place. Yes, it was out of anger and hurt, but also a certain amount of righteousness he felt he had to regain. You belong to him, even if you don't like it.

"I learned my lesson while I was away. I serve Heaven, I don’t serve man. And I-I certainly don’t s-serve... you."

He's just an obedient little soldier who has been broken by you.

[milkteasweetheart]

『just like heaven, chapter 1, part 1』

this part contains riddle’s dream sequence. 

housewardens x reader

author’s note: i depict nrc as an actual college, so first years are 18, second years 19, etc.

summary: crowley has the bright idea of a bonding experience, specifically in the form of a dream potion.

characters: (riddle rosehearts), leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia / platonic mentions: dire crowley (ew), grim

genre: romance, fluff, smidge of angst

warnings: female reader, reader is yuu, reader is around ace and deuce’s height, sappy, marriage, mentions of potential children, some suggestive themes

「dream scene: rose colored reverie」

Being in someone else’s dream looks strange. Seeing your own dreams in your mind’s eye makes you perceive it as high definition, but looking at this place, it’s like watching a movie shot with a lens covered in vaseline. Except for one house, and it's yard where our cast is trying to walk without falling over.

Vil is currently clinging onto the prefect, who had by now developed the skill of surviving whatever wringer life throws her in. Leona groans out of annoyance. It’s bad enough that he has to spend his precious sleeping time doing this fuckery and spending time with the fuckass lizard and the others when he could be cuddling with the prefect (he will never admit that).

“This must be where the dream is set.” Malleus wondered out loud, not turning around when Azul struggled to learn how to use his legs for the second time. Idia was sad that the dream world didn’t have phones to record this with. So was Jamil.

The group were not accompanied by Crowley, who had explained that “Someone needs to make sure that nothing goes wrong!” (Y/N) knew he was going to say that before he said it. Like precognition limited to one singular idiot.

“...certainly not a pleasant start to this. The headmage said we must go through everyone’s dreams… what a bother.” Azul had managed to conquer the task of standing without falling over. “Got something embarrassing to hide, octopunk? We’ll see yours eventually.” Leona was quick to take out his annoyance on Azul, to which he only rolled his eyes. What a brute.

(Y/N) looked at everyone. They seemed fine. She deliberately ignored Vil, who was still clinging onto her forearm despite being able to walk by now as evidenced when she went to check on Riddle, who was standing still, staring at the house. With silent horror. Vil’s face was quickly changed into a smug smile. “What’s wrong, Rosehearts?” His words didn’t match his tone, a patronizing mockery. Riddle wondered if magic could be used in the realm of dreams. He’d like to shut Vil up, and get out of here. He knew exactly what this dream was about.

Yet, Riddle didn’t answer. Instead, he blushed as he heard a car roll into the driveway. A cute little vintage car. (Y/N) looked as… she herself stepped out? She was wearing a snazzy suit with a fedora, and carrying a briefcase. Very fitting with the old-timey vibe this whole place was oozing. But why was she here?

Azul watched Riddle suffer with glee, excited at the prospect of a rival removing themselves from the chase of (Y/N)’s heart.

「Azul: Oho! Interesting!」

Idia was concerned at Azul’s widening smile. Hell no. He NEEDS to figure out how to stop this series of unskippable cutscenes or he will be COOKED.

Jamil looks at Dream (Y/N)’s face. It’s quite accurate, with the exception of an uncharacteristic smoldering look. Wait… Oh, this’ll be good.

Dream (Y/N) has somehow acquired a bunch of roses, painted red, and opens the door. The group peers inside. Riddle wishes to pass away. 

「Riddle: How can I offend Draconia as fast as possible so that he’ll smite me out of existence?」

“Welcome home, beloved!” (Y/N) watches as the Dream Riddle greets her dream counterpart with a kiss on the cheek. Dream (Y/N) presents him the bouquet, which he gladly takes.

It’s going to be a long night.

[malleusfucker]

private study session

i have a shit ton of uni work but is writing smut of this man more important i think so

i live and breathe for asshole malleus y’all don’t even understand that man is a smug bastard

synopsis: your grades have been plummeting. bad. so much so that if you don’t improve, you might have to end up retaking the yearーwhich you definitely don’t want. no matter how hard you study and revise by yourself, nothing seems to stick. that was until you built up the courage to ask your close friend, malleus, if he could tutor you.

warnings: smut/nsfw, degrading, choking, lowkey hate sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mating press, reader is afab but no gender or pronouns are explicitly specified

word count: 2.8k

“oh-ho? and what makes you believe that my time will not be wasted?"

“it won’t, i swear! …please, malleus, just this once. i might have to retake the year if i don’t improve.” you shifted your feet nervously, continuing your embarrassing attempt at trying to convince the dragon fae to lend you just a slither of his intelligence. you weren’t one to beg, but at this pointーyou had to. of course, being the only non-magic student to have miraculously enrolled into NRC, it was a given your grades would be subparーbut not to this extent.

"and we certainly don't want that, do we?"

malleus's tone was condescending, apparently relishing the sight of you pleading for his help in front of him. his lips curved into a grin, and he cocked his head to one side. “i mean… that would be unfortunate if you needed to repeat the year. i do enjoy the lessons i have with you, child of man.”

your eyes widened as if he were finally giving in to your wish, like a puppy seeing a treat for the first time. “then? then…!? will you help me, malleus?”

malleus seemed thoughtfully contemplative for a few seconds. you were sure you saw a glimpse of something in his eyes for a single second. something menacing.

“fine. i’ll accept your request, child of man. you’re quite the lucky one, you know? not everyone can say that they’ve had me as their personal tutor.”

personal tutor, huh? it didn’t sound bad when he put it like that.

it was 6 p.m. malleus agreed to assist you back at your own dormーwhich surprised you slightly, but you didn’t mind. if anything, it only meant that evening was about to be spent without any disturbances.

…

it became clear that malleus was going to spend hours tutoring you like he stated he would. you sat pitifully looking at the pages in front of you as he poured information into your ears that amounted to little more than background noise. he was in the seat next to you. his body, though, was stiff. with one leg over the other and his arms crossed, it felt like being lectured about how dumb you are. 

maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

but it was probably too late to back out of it now.

snap

“are you ignoring me, child of man?”

as you heard his fingers snap at you, you quickly brought your eyes back into focus to see a face brimming with frustration and irritation.

“were you even paying attention to a single word i said?”

malleus was furious. with a tone laced with something much more than frustration, you knew you messed up big. the words that came out of his mouth only made the hairs on your arms prick up, feeling your mouth get dry as he leaned in close to your face, seeing the rage in his expression ever more clearly.

he was close. too close. you were so uneasy that you were certain he would smite you on the spot if you said something stupid.

“yes..! i swear i was malleus!”

you felt his stare burn right through you, feeling as though he’d bite off your head any second. all that you could hope was that if you said “yes” enough, maybe he’d let you off easier.

that wasn’t the case.

“am i boring you? is a human’s time for daydreaming more important than mine?”

you started to shake in your seat, your heart in your throat.

“you have a lot of nerve, child of man. taking my generosity for granted, really, you are bold.”

he drew even nearer until his face was almost brushing yours. all you could do was tremble and pray that he wouldn't actually murder you at this very moment. suddenly feeling paralysed, you couldn't even gather the energy to defend yourself.

he pressed a finger on your foreheadーhardーwatching you practically unravel in front of him.

“what will it take, child of manーfor you to listen? how can we make the time left today not utterly pointless?”

he remained far too close to your face for your liking. whilst your body was about to give way any second, you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up for some strange reason. you’ve never seen malleus so close up before, it was almost an honour. you wanted to shake these stupid, borderline dangerous thoughts away, but you almost felt in awe at the anger he was expressing to youーas bad as that was.

“hoh? got nothing to say? heh, it’s almost as if you’re trying to anger me. you’re certainly the first to do such a thing, child of man.”

he moved his finger from off your forehead to your jaw, resting it under your chin as he slowly tilted your head up to look at him. you gave him a glazed-over look. it was as if every single thought in your head suddenly turned off, rendering you speechless and still. feeling his finger touch underneath your chin, you couldn’t help but sweat, your face becoming more flushed by the second.

“hmm, your face is heating up. am i embarrassing you, child of man?”

malleus was. 

but even with all that embarrassment that was thoroughly washing through your entire body, you could sense a faint sensation of excitement starting to bubble. were you the masochistic type? did you actually enjoy getting humiliated by him? perhaps not, but seeing him get so riled up over youーhis face inches away from your ownーhey, maybe dying at the hands of someone like him wouldn’t be…too bad.

though, in the end, you could never hide things from malleus. if he couldn't detect your excitement from your face, something else revealed it for you. the slits in his eyes thinned, he glared at you. he could smell, ever so slightly, a hint of your arousal.

“...my. do you have a death wish?”

as soon as those words left his lipsーyou blinkedーsuddenly finding yourself having been thrown onto your desk, your back slamming onto the hardwood.

you gasped as you abruptly came out of your trance and felt him securely hold your legs as he towered over you. malleus wasted no time in entertaining those lewd thoughts your body was so clearly showingーwith a simple snap of his fingers, your clothes vanished and fell beside you. to say you were shocked to see this sudden change in him would be an understatement. you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, with how fast everything was moving, you could say he was eager butーwith that expression…

it looked as if your mere presence disgusted him.

malleus slid his hand up over your neck, wrapping his long fingers around it before slowly squeezing as he spoke.

“heh. child of man, give me one good reason why i shouldn’t kill you right here.”

your body was shaken to its core. that voiceーthat sentence alone made you feel faint. you pathetically flailed your arms around, weakly trying to release the grip he was slowly tightening on your neck. the pressure around your throat distracted you from how vulnerable you looked under him right now. naked and shiveringーmalleus started to grin and leaned close to you, gently planting a kiss on your forehead. it was strange. the kiss felt so soft on you, yet the pain you felt merely inches away couldn’t have been more different.

he laid tiny wet kisses down your forehead and jaw before snatching his other hand and slipping it between your legs, gently teasing your wet folds. something about the contrast between his touch and his kisses made you melt; you felt yourself slump lower and lower onto the desk as you embarrassedly leaked all over it. “...malleus- i’m- i’m sorry-” you wheeze, still trying to release the vicious hold he had on your neck.

his face stayed close to you, and he suddenly licked a long stripe up your neck and jaw. the sudden sensation made you twitch, moaning slightly at how warm and wet his forked tongue felt against your bare flesh.

“it’s all too late to apologise now.”

“tutoring you was an utter waste of time. now, i’d much rather try something else.”

before you could even attempt to reply, he let his hand from your neck free. you gaspedーsuddenly feeling your naked, trembling body be dragged to the edge of the desk. your mind was racing so much that you failed to hear the sound of his belt suddenly slamming against the ground. you stared off at the ceiling, your lip quivering. the whole thing seemed like a dream, albeit a strange one. your rational mind refused to accept the reality of the situationーbut your body...had never felt so hot before. it felt unbearable; you needed to be relieved. and luckily, malleus was there, leaning over with his gaze searing through you evermore.

he forcefully propped your shaking legs up against his waist with one hand, immediately snatching your face to make you look at him. however, for a moment, it looked as if he had forgotten what had led you two to be in such a predicament and simply loomed over you, staring at you. his gaze almost switched to a softer one, feeling the urge to gently caress your cheek. though that was quickly discarded, and immediately that familiar look of disgust soon reappeared on his face.

malleus moved his hips closer to yoursーfinally feeling his hard erection brush against your twitching core; you wincedーwishing you could throw your arms around him and bring him even closer to you.

malleus, however, was not in the mood to be so courteous to you and certainly didn't want to take up any more time than had already been lost.

without any preparation, you suddenly felt malleus drive one of his cocks into you. you screamed out, feeling him sliding and bottoming out of you with just one thrust. swiftly, with three of his fingers then violently thrust into your mouth, you gagged and choked, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks, 

��bite down. good students know not to be noisy.”

you tried to pathetically choke out to malleus that it was too muchーyour body shook and convulsed from the agonising splitting pain of his long, hard cock bullying its way into you, poking and prodding at your cervix. you sank your nails into the desk, biting down hard on his fingers as he pushed and slammed his hips into you, your cries for help becoming louder by the second. within minutes of him thrusting into you, you felt pressure rapidly build in your stomach, causing you to clench and squeeze against him. 

“oh? what’s this? don’t tell me you’re going to cum already?”

you wailed, but his insulting remarks just made you feel worse about your own increasing arousal. still choking on his fingers, you nodded frantically when you then felt sharp cramping throughout your body as if you were about to cum. he swiftly slipped his fingers out while he was still thrusting into you just so he could hear your pitiful cries. 

you felt your body shudder against the desk as a wave of scorching hot pleasure swept over you, pouring and seeping down onto the hardwood under you. you tried to catch your breath, gagging and choking as you already felt so sore and painful from just one orgasm. but it was obvious that malleus wasn't through with you just yet. it was, if anything, just the start.

he gave you time to calm down, your breath slowly easing as you shut your eyes, thinking this torture had reached its end. 

of course, malleus would not let you off that lightly. his rage persisted and seeing you believe that this punishment was over just made him more spiteful.

he leaned in, his breath hot, “i’m so glad you’re enjoying yourself. now put your arms around me.” his tone was once again mocking, but this time it felt more serious, like everything you did would simply enrage him more.

he suddenly forced you into a mating press, your legs wedged up against your chest as you struggled to wrap your trembling arms around his head. you cried out and started to think that your body wouldn’t be able to handle thisーthat he might actually break you.

as he started to softly drive into you, drawing more weak and muffled groans from your lips, your hands connected to the base of his horns, clutching and scraping your nails across them. he started off slow, almost giving a relaxing quality to his thrusts as he softly kissed your forehead and smiled sweetly against your face, much to your surprise. your body relaxed as a result of his sudden shift in attitude, enjoying the fleeting moments of him lovingly moving his hips against yours, which were only going to abruptly come to an end.

your eyes were closed, not being able to see the horrific smile malleus suddenly had across his face. you assumed that the strange sadistic side of him had long since vanished, as evident by your voice becoming moans of pure pleasure rather than of pain. regardless of his disposition, he enjoyed seeing you this way. seeing how you moaned so quietly and softly only made the urge to completely ruin you that much stronger.

“are you enjoying this?”

you slowly opened your eyes, malleus still gently pushing into you as you lazily nodded, whimpering as the pleasure inside you continued to become greater. “mmm…malleus. it feels so good…don’t stop.” 

“heh. so you think you can tell me what to do? your disrespect truly knows no bounds.”

your growing sense of pleasure abruptly gave way to a dreadful fear as he pushed your legs higher onto your chest and over his shoulders, making it clear that he was absolutely certain you couldn't get away. not understanding what he meant, your lip began to quiver, only for him to rid you of your confusion by suddenly thrusting into you aggressively. you screamed out, tears soon welling in your eyes again as he gave you no time to acclimate to the sudden pace. he licked his lips, savouring the view of you struggling and wailing underneath him as he gradually began to envelop your neck with his fingers. he hovered his face close to yours, sticking his long, forked tongue out before sloppily kissing your lips, still continuing his ruthless pace. you groaned under him, feeling yourself beginning to choke from both his tongue and his fingers, which were slowly beginning to squeeze your throat once again.

it was all far too muchーyour vision starting to blur, and all of your senses drowning and bleeding into one another as he kept pounding his thick cock into you, causing you to harshly grip and pull his hair. 

he immediately drew his face back and tutted at you, but seeing the way your eyes began to roll into the back of your head only made him want to quicken his paceーif it was even possible. 

“haha…perfect. so perfect…”

the words coming out of his mouth didn’t make sense. he was praising you yet abusing you with every thrust and squeeze of your body, not even giving you a chance to cry out as your head slowly began to feel faint. all of the pain and pleasure made you lose your mind, feeling your orgasm approaching rapidly as he started to lick and nip at your ears. 

he throbbed and twitched inside of you and felt his own climax begin to rise, eventually making the decision to be generous enough and remove his vice-like grasp from around your neck. you gasped and cried out, finally able to breathe and mewling as a result of his cruel touch. 

“malleus...ーpleaseーit’s too…ーmuch... ’m gonna-” he smiled at your pleas, pressing your legs harder against your chest, allowing him to thrust even deeper into you.

“heh, are you going to cum? haha…then do it. cum for me.”

it seemed as if he had put you under a spell with how immediate and intense your orgasm was, your walls clenching down on his throbbing cock with tears dripping down your chin. you felt the sensation of hot, burning pleasure wrack through your body once again, not even hearing your own screams from how strong it was.

malleus didn't even allow you to come down from your high. instead, he kept pushing to reach his own climax, feeling his body start to shudder and throb as he kissed you. “i’m…close…you’ll allow me to cum inside of you, won’t you? i know you will.” 

you didn’t even care anymoreーyour legs continued to shake and tremble as you feebly nodded with your eyelids flickering. it seemed like malleus would fulfil his word, for a few seconds later, he let out a moan as he unleashed and pumped copious loads of white cum into you, causing you to whimper as you felt him completely fill you up.

his breathing evened almost immediately. wiping the sweat from off your face, he delicately slid his cock out from inside of you to admire his work, gazing at the way your body jerked with his cum spilling and gushing out of your abused hole.

…

“heh. maybe tutoring you every week won’t be so bad after all.”

[peachyfnaf]

sun and moon show tumblr dashboard simulator. because i find these hilarious and this fandom needs one. assume this takes place in a "bad shit happens, but everyone's still on speaking terms" au for it to make the most sense kfjhsfd

0 notes

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

when the nightmare goes so hard when you wake up you have to walk into the ocean just to make sure

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

Lunar, are you okay..?

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

guess

22 notes

👤 sunsthirdfingerjoint Follow

ok but the creator is kind of a dilf tho

🦙 TSAJSwillprevail Follow

he's killed hundreds

👤sunsthirdfingerjoint Follow

is a man not allowed to be a manic pixie dream girl in this day and age

🛸 moonenjoyer9315 Follow

guys are we just ignoring op's url

536 notes

☣️ mellorinefuega Follow

coming across montgomery gator in the wild is crazy. like i was just trying to make a deposit at the bank one time and he came up behind me and punched the teller in the face

🐩 hottodoggors Follow

op my girlfriend went thru a similar experience a few months ago. this dude sounds like a menace, fr. so happy hes not near me.

🐊 trustmewithyourinformation Follow

182.62.250.90

🐩 hottodoggors Follow

is that my fukcign ip address

1,102 notes

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

This is a gentle reminder that everything will be okay, you just have to give it time!!!

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

im seriously at my limit

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

Just give it time, everyone!!!

🔧 applejackenjoyer Follow

earth are you okay

🌎 princessandthepaupersupreme Follow

guess

🌑 twilightsparkleno1fan Follow

🔧 applejackenjoyer Follow

nexus NO

179 notes

🪔 cloudandloud Follow

eclipse v2 and nexus are one in the same. hit post. and go to bed

🪔 cloudandloud Follow

i just woke up. ive never been this scared to look at notes in my life

979 notes

💡 ballogmore Follow

i love going to the pizzaplex with my little sister bc she's there for the glamrocks. i'm there to see if i can get my hands on that twinky little jester

🔋 buttonsandbatterypacks Follow

Which twinky little jester op

💡 ballogmore Follow

the daycare attendant model??? whomst the fuck else?????

🔋 buttonsandbatterypacks Follow

You'd be surprised how little that narrows it down, actually

34,343 notes

🧛🏿‍♀️ horseonabeach-man Follow

🗡️ leavethatlittleguyalone Follow

bro what did v2 do to you

🧛🏿‍♀️ horseonabeach-man Follow

exist

557 notes

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

every day i try to not let my brother rob a bank, and then every day he provides me good reasons as to why i should let him

🌕 ricksanchezreborn Follow

sun do yuo know what you could do with the money

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

i dont want to know, moon

🌕 ricksanchezreborn Follow

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

do you need a getaway diver

52 notes

🌊 themagicwawa Follow

"sun is so cute!! solar's such a dilf. nexus being insane is so ho-"

absolutely none of you can handle what i have to say about him

99 notes

👾 certifiedrobotfracker

god help me, hes so fine

🏝 chronicappleeater-deactiaved062324

yeah, him and all 5 pixels

👾 certifiedrobotfracker

i see god smited you for this one

😈 itsme-fromthebible

wrong deity, but appreciate it regardless

👾 certifiedrobotfracker

THE DEVIL FROM THE BIBLE??!?!

823,383 notes

🦌 dailydazzledeer Follow

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

if anything happens to this blog i genuinely hope taurus destroys the planet

55,932 notes

🦫 elchipichipichapachapa Follow

it's taken months, but i've finally finished it. the document explaining everything wrong with the sun and moon show

here's the link. enjoy

732 notes

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

every time one of us makes them mad, moon and nexus get closer to becoming the Hitachiin twins from ohshc to retaliate, and i fear the day they decide to just do it

🌕 ricksanchezreborn Follow

even the thought of doing that is stupid

🌑 twilightsparkleno1fan Follow

even the thought of doing that is stupid

☀️ catdadofthedecade Follow

HOW DID YOU BOTH REBLOG AT THE EXACT SAME TIME THIS POST HAS BEEN UP FOR 4 MINUTES

18 notes

🟦 woobificationofthesillies Follow

"we need more evil women in the world!!!" you people cant even handle miku

932,382 notes

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

starting a conspiracy theory that we're all just puppets in a youtube show's script and that's why our lives are so miserable

🌠 worldrecordnutellaeater Follow

hey guys why was i shadowbanned after posting this

8 notes

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

TWST boys with a Diana! Reader?

The reader's a really and I mean REALLY popular and a captivating woman from Siodonna, many rumours were spreading of a beauty from Siodonna yet the TWST boys decided to ignore the rumours, taking them as only bluffs until they met the reader performing in the streets for the poor children. The boys quickly fell head over heels for they're kind nature, and alluring looks. The way those crystal like (Colour) eyes gaze into theirs sending their hearts pounding again their chest. Being lucky enough to marry the woman of their dreams was a big accomplishment but they're happiness was short lived when they found out the risk of the reader dying during childbirth, the TWST boys being selfish asked her to choose them over the child yet the reader didn't have the heart to do so and decided to give her life for the child, only doing as much as witnessing how they're child grew as a wandering spirit and visiting them in their dreams to interact with they're child. How would the guys react when their child(or children) mentioning they're mother's name when they've actually never met or heard of her?? <3

- M. Draconia ; V. Schoenheit ; R. Rosehearts ; L. Kingscholar ; I. Shroud ; L. Vanrouge

"I'm sorry for not choosing you, but I couldn't bare giving it up ( sacrificing an innocent life) either..."

- (Name)

SORRY IT'S BAD, I'M RUSHING THIS 😭😭

Mentioning Your Name | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Its an average day your child casually mentions some advice you gave. It takes them off guard and the problem with lovers as in love as they are suffering from your loss–this can be received very differently:

Malleus Draconia 

“What did you say?”

“I said (Y/n) told me I should try harder to talk to you because your socially immature.”

“....when…when did they say this?”

“In my dream last night, I asked how I was supposed to get you to smile at me and they told me to be ins-st-i-dent?”

He remembers what you said to comfort him before the birth

And honestly if it hadn’t been for that and this child having your smile

He would’ve smited him long ago

But to hear that you’re still here in some capacity

He smiles more 

Speaking into the quiet of the room 

Practically serenading your lingering spirit

“Thats…just like them…”

Vil Schoenheit 

“Wearing those two patterns is a travesty, we won’t be doing plaid with polka-dots–”

“Noooo! B-but I said I would!”

“...To who?”

“To (Y/n) of course I was telling them all about how I’d wear them-”

“Wait wait what did you say?”

He doesn’t believe that you’re meeting in their dreams

Its more than likely one of his close friends slipped up while babysitting

And now they’ve taken the name of their mother for some imaginary friend

Needless to say he’ll get to the bottom of this

Even if it takes a forceful kind of truth serum

“(Y/n)...my half is dead…so whoever they’re speaking to is something else.”

Riddle Rosehearts

“My RULE IS ABSOLUTE TO YOUR ROOM!” 

“(Y/n) would hate you so much!?”

“H-how do y-you–!”

“They said I should be free! That I should be allowed to play with others!”

“Where?! Where did you hear that?!”

He thought that he wouldn’t need to be hurt again

But here you were showing up in your child’s dreams 

But since you’ve left him…what do you words mean now

“You’re not appearing to me and you aren’t here to parent…therefore you’re words barely scrape the height of a suggestion.”

Leona Kingscholar 

“(Y/n) doesn’t think I’m weak!”

“WHAT?!”

“THEY said I’m plenty strong and that you don’t know everything!”

He’ll continue to lock the child away 

Scratching at his post some interloper as he thinks about what his child has said 

“Even across the grave you’re fighting me…can’t do much from where I’m at now can I?”

Idia Shroud 

“Papa I made my own drone…”

“Mmmm.”

“Uhm and uh (Y/n) says that you should maybe look at me when I show you mystuff so…”

“...”

Is floored

Since your departure he’s been torn with hating this child and eliminating anyone who interacts with them

So consumed with grief he shuts himself in his workshop and watches his child relentlessly

He knows them well in fact he’s sure he loves them 

but he can’t stand to speak to them without wanting to cry

So this is all the more painful to him and in his desire to reach out he might end up inventing something meant to capture your wandering spirit

“Just you wait (Y/n), I’ll have you soon.”

Lilia Vanrouge

“Just trust Papa on this you stay inside, my little bat.”

“(Y/n) says you should let me outside more.”

“Oh yeah they really–said…that?”

“Yeah! And that you need to properly comb out my hair you can’t leave it a tangled mess.”

“Hahaha yeah.”

He believes in ghosts, well he knows they exist

So he believes thats what that is about 

And if thats the case than maybe if he suggests somethings for your kid to recite

Maybe he can still reach out to you

“Hey! Hey! Maybe the next time you see them can you tell her how much Daddy loves her?”

[caesium-55]

—everything is orange. [ iii ]

pairing: lando norris x kpop idol! reader

summary: a racecar driver who needed a fake girlfriend to dispel rumors and a kpop idol who needed publicity for her song. somewhere in between orange cars and orange sunsets, stands something they're afraid of naming.

masterlist.

“Are you feeling better now?” Lando asks, concern marring his handsome features. True to his words, he comes by your hotel room after he finishes the qualifying race. You don't expect him to. The race ended quite late in the evening and you're sure he has to prepare for tomorrow but he's knocking on your door by quarter to twelve and you let him in. He’ll start tomorrow in fourth position, he told you. You acted pleasantly surprised at his revelation as if you didn't watch an illegal livestream of the race on your phone earlier.

“Yeah,” you nod.

He lets out a relieved sigh, hand coming up to his chest, “Oh thank fuck. I was worried.”

“By the way, thank you for driving me home last night. I didn't mean to fall asleep.”

“Did Jinnie tell you that?”

“No, it's in X. They saw you carrying me to your car.”

Your sleeping face on camera is going to haunt your dreams forever. The oily skin and your mouth hanging open. You don't sleep pretty. Knetizens like playing god, smiting everything not pretty, especially celebrities. You're not checking out Naver lately because you're scared of finding what's there.

“Were you doing something? I can leave if you're busy.”

“It's nothing important,” you wave your hand dismissively. “Just working on a song.”

Lando’s eyebrows rise to his hairline.

“You produce songs?”

You nod, humming.

“The reason I agreed to this PR stunt is to get publicity for my upcoming single,” you explain. You assume Lando already knows about it, the real reason why you're here. Despite that, you still tell him anyway. “Wanna hear it, boyfriend?”

“I didn't know you produce songs.”

“Well, now you know.”

He laughs at the dryness of your tone.

“Well, I’m glad you offered. I wouldn't mind listening.”

“It's all just basic melodies. Nothing concrete.”

You hand him a headphone.

“So you’re like KPop Charlie Puth?”

Lando takes the headphone.

“Please, I can't even compare to his producing skills.”

You press play on Demo_42.

You order hotel service food because he tells you he hasn't eaten and while you both finish the bowls of noodles, you converse with each other. Talking with Lando is easy, you find out. He knows how to keep the conversation alive and going despite the fact that you don't have much to say most of the time, that you frequently speak with finality. You praise him during the conversation once. He says he’s got practice from his teammate, who, like you, is a man of few words. He decides it is time to go back to his hotel at 2:50 AM.

“Thank you for today, boyfriend,” you say and if you sound too sincere, you like to think it’s because you’re a good actress.

A flustered laugh escapes his throat.

“I like the sound of that, girlfriend.”

A pause.

“I think I learned a lot about you today,” he scratches his nose and moves his hands as if he doesn't know what to do with them. “Thanks. For that.”

You wave your hand dismissively, as if to tell him that you don't need his thanks.

“Drive safe.”

“Good night, girlfriend.”

The WAG wardrobe of the day consisted of a Dsquared2 black suited jumpsuit and Versace crystal medusa ‘95 sandals of the same color. For accessories, you go with silver. Rings are your staple and earrings to pair. You don't wear a necklace.

When you reach for your racer jacket, a personal favorite that you think will absolutely be the highlight of your outfit with its white-red-black color combo, Jinnie stops you.

“Wear the McLaren one,” she orders, pointing at the McLaren jacket that sits on the couch. Orange. Bright. Easy to notice. It's almost as if it’s begging for attention.

You grimace.

“No.”

“[Name],” Jinnie’s voice holds warning. You ignore it. Obedience is not your strong suit.

“No.”

Despite your insistence, you end up leaving the racer jacket at the hotel and bringing the tacky McLaren one to the paddock. You secretly brought a black blazer and shove it inside your shoulder bag, which caused the bag to look like a Minecraft block. You pout childishly in the backseat of the car. You don't like orange.

“Stop pouting.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

You hear Jinnie sigh, exasperated.

“I can't with you sometimes.”

You ask Jinnie to drive by a coffee shop. You tell her what you wanted to get—an iced Americano with five shots of espresso and Lando’s coffee—and she leaves to buy it while you stay inside the car and patiently wait for her to return. She insisted on getting the coffee herself and you do not dare to complain. You like it this way anyway.

Jinnie, like the day of the FP1, drops you off at the same parking lot. You hop off the car.

“Text me when you need help. I’ll be nearby.”

You give her a thumbs up and Jinnie drives off.

It's night time but you pull a pair of sunglasses on, toss a ball cap over your head, and a face mask to cover the rest of your face. The McLaren jacket is tied around your shoulders. You don't want to wear it but Jinnie insists it has to be on your being. You're waiting for an opportunity to take it off, perhaps at the garage. You can strategically leave it on an empty chair or any flat surface and act like you have forgotten it.

You carry your phone in your right hand, your paddock pass and a paper zarf with two takeout coffees in the left. You send a quick message to Lando.

you: here

He replies not even three seconds later.

lando: coming

lando: same place?

you: okk heading there now

you: you reply fast

you: do you always hold your phone while in the garage?

lando: it's either i reply fast or i reply a week later take your pick

You let out an amused snort and lock your phone. You begin walking.

You freeze mid-step. The path you took on the day of the FP1 is filled with people. It's not supposed to be this crowded. This is a place far away from the stands and the track and the general admission area. It's also a good distance away from the team garages and the food stalls. It shouldn't be this crowded.

Your hands begin to tremble and become clammy. You lower your head, gaze fixing on the cement pathwalk. The people haven't noticed that it's you. At least, not yet. That's good. You can still leave and hide.

This is not what we planned, says your conscience. You're not a coward. Why are you running away like one?

I’m not a coward. If you say it as many times as you can, perhaps it will become the truth.

You turn around but begin to hesitate midway as you remember something.

Lando’s on his way. You can't leave now.

You swallow hard and turn back up front slowly. You let out a shaky breath and force your heart to become steady. You clench your hands into fists in an attempt to get them to start shaking.

They can't see my face, you assure yourself mentally.

Your hands, now fists, are still trembling.

I can do this.

You walk into the den of lions, not looking back even once. You take deep breaths underneath your mask. Inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth; it's not going well for you. The longer you perform the breathing exercises, the more you think you're going to end up with a public meltdown.

They're all looking at you.

You can feel their collective gazes.

“Is that her?” you hear someone murmur. Your shoulders turn tense but you keep walking.

“It’s her, right?”

“I don't think so. She could be just a random fan.”

“Wait, look at the jacket. It has Lando’s last name stitched at the hem.”

A loud gasp, “Is that his personal jacket?”

“That's her! That's [Name]!”

Someone snatches your cap. Your eyes widen. You hurriedly turn your head to the side. Your sunglasses fly off at the abrupt movement. Your panic intensifies and you feel the air in your lungs running away and your throat closing up. The same way the crowd closes up on you. None of them even grant you the mercy of leaving a tiny gap for you to escape through. You are but a sheep in a den of lions about to be slaughtered.

You see faces and the backs of phones all pointing at you. They're all screaming your name, excitement apparent in their loud voices. You don't understand any other word they're saying, only your name. The chanting of [Name], [Name], [Name]; the tone slowly shifts into eerie the longer you listen to it.

They hate you.

They hate you.

They hate you.

They always do.

If this exact situation you're in happened two years ago, before the scandal, you would have adored the attention. You know how to handle a crowd confidently, the best at it among all the members of ORACLE if you dare say so.

But now, the attention is just….

You want nothing more than to hide from it.

No matter how you try to convince yourself that you can handle it, that you can handle when everybody looks at you, you can’t. You try to control how your mind thinks but ultimately, it is your mind that controls your entire being.

Someone snatches the face mask off your face before you can stop them. Now, you feel too naked, too bare. You slap a hand over the lower half of your face, dropping the coffee cups and your paddock pass down on the ground. You hiss when the coffee burns your feet. A chorus of surprised yelps. A few curse words are thrown in the air. Because of the spilled coffee, the crowd parts. You see a space and you waste no time weaving yourself from the people to try and leave.

The gap disappears when a person blocks it and you halt in your steps, almost colliding with the person. Your chin snaps up and your eyes widen, terrified, when Kang Geon Ho’s familiar face smiles at you. Kang Geon Ho, the sun to your Icarus, the one responsible for your downfall.

“Smile, [Name].”

A camera lens appear. The camera clicks just as a hand comes up to block it. Before you know it, the camera is wrenched away from your face.

“Fuck off, mate. That's too close.”

You’ve never never been more relieved seeing Lando there again.

The crowd grows impossibly louder. You have to cover your ears with your hands so the sheer volume of everyone’s screams won't damage your eardrums. Your eyes met Lando’s worried ones. He's frowning, you notice. You see his mouth move. He's talking to you, but you're not hearing anything and you can't read his lips either. You figure he’s asking you if you want to leave with him so you nod, a little too eagerly.

You don't expect him to throw you over his shoulder and make a run for it, a surprised scream already making its way out of your throat as your hands grip his hair so you won't fall.

username: livetweeting from the paddock rn and i think i just witnessed smth bizarre. i think i just saw a driver (or was it a mechanic??? idk really) running with someone on their shoulder

username: is there a kidnapping going on inside the paddock??

username: girl it's lando and his girl

username: what 😭😭

Your chest rises and falls in quick breaths as you try to catch your breath. You're leaning against the wall, both hands pressing flat against the wall for support. Spots are invading your visions, not disappearing even after finally standing upright. The bright orange color of the walls isn’t helping you either. You think you're going to lose consciousness or vomit your brunch or both.

“I think she needs to sit down,” the brunette sweetheart says. She was already in the garage when Lando pulled up with you in tow, locking hands with the guy you recognized as Lando’s teammate. It's a no-brainer. She's another WAG like you.

“No thank you,” you say in between heavy breaths. You start coughing. Lando rubs your back in soothing circles. “I’m fine. Just… I’m anemic.”

You need to start fixing your sleep schedule at your earliest convenience. Need to start exercising, too. You're not even this unfit before.

“Lando, mate, come on,” Oscar berates. “Is your IQ a single digit number?”

“I was just trying to get her out, mate!” Lando defends himself.

Oscar’s girlfriend shakes her head at the two. She draws closer to you, taking your hand in hers and pulls you away from the busy part of the garage and towards the back.

“I think it's best if we move someone less crowded, hm?”

You hear Lando protesting but you don't bother glancing back at him as Oscar coaxes him.

The girl makes you sit down in a monoblock chair she found, hands you a battery-operated mini fan that she conjured from inside her tote bag, and takes the empty space beside you.

“Are you thirsty?” You shake your head.

“Just dizzy,” you sigh. “Thank you, uh….”

“It's Lily,” she smiles. Lily is such a perfect name for a girl as sweet as her. You dip your chin to a light bow.

“I’m [Name].”

You and Lily watch the race together. She is pleasant company. She only talks when she needs to, which makes you happy because you’re not a person who’s particularly fond of chit chat. You don't hide your confusion as you both spectate the races projected on the large screen; you don't know what's happening for half the race. Lily is kind enough to explain everything to you. You know, you can tell if someone is intelligent when they are able to dumb down complicated information and explain it to another person where the information is easily understandable. Lily is definitely an intelligent woman.

“You're so…” you try to find the right word. “... Knowledgeable at this. Like not just the race and rules but the engines and cars and—”

You move your hand and hope it conveys what you're trying to say.

Lily giggles, “I’m studying engineering so I understand how the cars work. Most of the time, at least.

Your mouth forms an O, amazed.

She’s the type of woman you’d bring home to meet your parents. Oscar, that lucky motherfucker. You turn your gaze back to the monitor.

“You?”

You chuckle nervously, “I-I didn't finish uni.”

“I’m not finished with university either,” Lily says and you appreciate the underlying message in her words—there’s nothing to be ashamed about if you didn't finish uni. But here's the difference between you and Lily. She's going to finish uni some day. You're never going to.

South Korea is known for their high standards in education and you once received backlash when you shared that you only finished a year and one semester in university before dropping out.

“Psychology,” you tell her. “One year and one sem.”

“Psychology is such an interesting program.”

“Yeah.” It's the only course that the scholarship program you applied to is willing to offer to you. You didn't choose it because you wanted to. You were so poor you don't even have the luxury of a choice. “Agreed.”

You continue watching.

“Oh that was smart of him,” you note. “The red one. He’s going to win.”

“Ferrari?”

“Yeah. The one in front of Lando,” you point out.

“I think Lando can overtake him. Or maybe one of the Mercedes since they got fresh tires while the first two are still using their old ones.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong but the red one slowed down slightly until Lando was one second behind him. Then, Lando activated the DRS—that’s called a DRS, right?” Lily nods in confirmation. “And then that, uh… buffered the DRS of the fast black car behind Lando. So with that, Lando is able to defend his place but since he’s busy defending his place, he can't overtake the red car at the front.”

Giving yourself an advantage in the guise of helping someone. You rub your fingertips together in thought.

“Only three laps left. He’s going to win. Lando will either come second or third.”

“You’re quick at this,” Lily compliments.

You shrug nonchalantly despite feeling suddenly shy on the inside at the praise, “I try.”

“They used to be teammates, by the way.”

“Who?”

“Carlos and Lando.”

“Oh.”

You turn out to be right. The red car—the Ferrari and its driver, Carlos Sainz—wins the Singapore Grand Prix. Lando is a close second. Everyone inside the garage screams in pure ecstasy when he crosses the finish line and the checkered flag waves above the livery. You and Lily stand to clap your hands, happy for Lando. Lily’s boyfriend finishes seventh and you clap your hands for her, happy for her and her boy.

“Let's go to the podium, boys!”

You and Lily sit back down on your chairs so you can watch the ceremony on the screen but a mechanic comes by, tugs your arm, and says, “Come on! Your boyfriend is on the podium!”

Your eyes widen and you glance back at Lily, who grins widely at you and waves her hand encouragingly. Go, she mouths. You gulp and bend your head low as you make your way out of the garage and into the open. You lost your cap, your face mask, and your sunglasses at the earlier incident so you feel too bare. You want to go back to the garage. The garage is safer.

But you know full well that the world will question your absence. Why wouldn't a WAG support her boyfriend on the podium? They’d doubt your relationship and that's the last thing you need to happen right now.

You purse your lips and follow the other McLaren mechanics, speed walking while they all jog. You watch the awarding at the front row, strategically standing near a tall McLaren aerodynamic engineer so you can hide behind him once you see a camera panning in your direction.

Lando shines on top. Even if he's only second, he shines as if he’s the race winner. You're proud of him. You’re not acting this time.

You slowly clap your hands and smile in a way a girlfriend does when his boyfriend does something incredible—lovingly and in awe. All the people in McLaren watch Lando with proud faces.

He’s loved, you realize. Very much so. By his entire team. He’s his team’s prince. That's why they worked so hard in protecting him to the point that they'll hire a fake girlfriend to kill the rumors that damaged his reputation. And when a team loves their prince, the prince shines.

You used to be like this, too. HAN Ent used to love you like this. Not anymore.

He meets your eyes and they look gray and you notice how they widen slightly as if he didn't expect you to be here. Then, he grins, lifting the bottle of champagne as if he’s trying to show it to you. You give him a thumbs up and laugh, covering your face as you do so.

You return to the garage after the ceremony and the fireworks display. You and Lily wait patiently together for your boyfriends—your fake boyfriend but boyfriend nonetheless; you’re unsure if Lily and Oscar and any other McLaren staff employee besides the PR team are aware of the nature of your relationship with Lando—to finish the formalities of a post-race. The podiums, the interviews, and whatnot.

When they enter the garage, Lily immediately goes straight to Oscar, who meets her halfway and engulfs her in a tight hug. Your heart softens.

You turn to Lando who stands closely behind Oscar. He's looking at Oscar and Lily before he trails his gaze to you. Shrugging his shoulders, he opens his arms. You raise a single questioning brow.

“Come on, girlfriend.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“You're sweaty.”

“You don't see Lily complaining that Oscar’s sweaty.”

Lando inches towards you. You take a cautious step back.

“Lando, no.”

A mischievous glint appears in his eyes. You prepare yourself to make a run for it.

“Lando, no. LANDO!”

He breaks out into a sprint. Naturally, you also make a run for it, not wanting to hug a very sweaty Lando.

You tire yourself quickly and your heels put you in a great disadvantage. Naturally, Lando catches in his arms in just a few minutes. You struggle against his arms at first then later, you resign to your fate despite not liking the feeling of sticky and damp skins. You're not the fittest person and Lando is a high-performance athlete; you fought a losing game.

“Oh, right,” Lando pulls away but still remains holding your wrists. “The team is planning to celebrate tonight. Do you want to come with me?”

With me, you note. Not with us but with me.

“Raincheck?” You're not sure if you’re using the right word in the right context. Hence, the questioning tone.

“Not a party girl, aren't you?”

You shake your head, “I prefer working in my hotel room anyway.”

“Oh right…. The song….”

“Mhm, the song.”

Lando glances at your surroundings. The mechanics are packing up everything now.

“I mean, I can miss the party.”

You raise a brow, confused.

“Why would you want to miss the party? You're second place today.”

Lando makes a weird noise that sounds like it's between an amused laugh and a disappointed groan, “Don't remind me. But yeah, I can miss it. Oscar already went with Lily anyway. I think it'll be suspicious if I spend the night partying instead of going with you, am I right, girlfriend?”

You roll your eyes, though not unkindly. He is right, you suppose.

“Besides, PR scheduled a hard launch today.”

Ah, dreadful hard launches. You need to make a new Instagram account just for Lando when you return to the hotel. It's a drag. You’ve never operated Instagram since 2021. You’ve kept burner accounts in Tiktok and X, formerly Twitter, but never Instagram. Not since the scandal.

“Okay."

Lando grins with glee.

“Come on, girlfriend.”

username1: IT’S CONFIRMED GUYS IT'S CONFIRMED

username2: AAAAAAHHHH F1TV HARDLAUNCHING THEIR RELATIONSHIP BEFORE ANY OF THEM CONFIRMS

username3: lando already did

username4: by accident 😭 does it even count as a hard launch

Lando snorts audibly from his place on the couch. You look up from your laptop and send him a confused look. You're inside your hotel room again, enjoying the silence while basking in each other's presence.

He shows you the tweet, making you cringe when you see your face on the screen.

“Did McLaren Racing tell them I was your partner?”

“I think so, yeah.”

You sigh.

“Well, it's nice to know they told everyone for us. At least, we don't have to do it ourselves.”

“Do I even need to hard launch you now?”

You shrug.

username5: lando wins p2 and girlie’s reaction was like:

username6: lmaooo why does she look so angry she be squinting at everything 😤 gurl never beating the bitchy allegations

username7: what kind of wag is this? she should just go back to south korea fr idk what lando sees in her

LandoNorris: Hi! To clarify, my girlfriend’s default face is angry but she's not angry, she's just confused. and she’s squinting because of astigmatism. She actually isn't sure what's happening because everything is so fast for her.

LandoNorris: And she's holding her bangs so it wouldn't fly away in the wind lol. She forgot to spray it this morning. Please don't misunderstand thanks.

username6: LANDO???

username8: lmao lando be suddenly remembering that he has a twt acc just to tell people not to badmouth his girl

username9: MORE LOWQUAL [NAME] SCREENSHOTS

username10: ugh she looks so annoying and fake fr

username11: get a life

Lando reports the hate tweet before he shows you your pictures.

“Your bangs are so thick. It's like you’re hiding a dozen secrets in there.”

You snort, “I might be.”

“What secrets?”

In the most serious, no nonsense tone you can muster, you say, “I killed my mother.”

Lando laughs.

username12: LANDO CAN YOU FIGHT BARK BARK

LandoNorris: 🤺🤺🤺

username13: i want lando’s girl 😭😭😭

LandoNorris: well too bad, she doesn't want you, she wants me

username14: LMAO CANT BELIEVE IM SEEING JEALOUS LANDO

username15: rip fuckboi lando, hello loyal and protective bf lando

LandoNorris: Well, cat’s out of the bag now 🤷

LandoNorris: But I'm still not very happy with what happened earlier before the race. Our relationship might be out now but it doesn't make it okay for all of you to gather around [Name] like what happened today. I sincerely ask everyone to respect us.

“Oh, that's a sick beat," Lando lifts his head.

“Sick?”

“I mean it's good. Good sick. Not like sick sick, fever sick.”

He’s saying the word “sick” a little too much.

“Woo, that wasn't very cool of me.”

“You're lucky I’m fake dating you even if you’re uncool.”

“Uh, rude?”

A phone ring interrupts you both. It's not yours.

Lando stands from the couch and walks away to answer the call on the balcony. You continue tweaking the bits. It still doesn't sound like it's worthy to be a single. This song has to be perfect. It doesn't have to be SOTY material, it just has to be the song. You have to make a mark to gain your relevance in the KPop industry back.

Lando comes back, his phone against his ear.

“Do you mind helping me out, baby?”

“What is it?” you ignore the way your heart wavers slightly because of the “baby.” It's not the word. You're used to hearing people call sweet pet names. It's just the way he utters it. You can't find a few accurate words to describe it. Affectionate? Soft? Real.

“My family kinda….wants to see you?” He pulls the phone away from his ear and covers the microphone of the gadget with his hand. He whispers: “They don't know we're fake dating and they just saw the race.”

“Oh,” you hurriedly fix yourself, straightening your hair and setting your laptop aside. Family wasn't in the list of the people allowed to know of the PR stunt. You're not surprised that Lando didn't tell them. However, you still didn't expect them to call their son over this. “Video call or…?”

“Video.”

You nod. You hurriedly smooth out the creases of your top.

“Do I look perfect now?”

“Beautiful.”

You give him a look. You won't accept anything less than perfect.

“You look okay, [Name].”

“I’m going to get my powder—”

Lando grabs your elbow, “No, you’re already beautiful. You don't need to reapply. Oh, look, hey Mum!”

Your eyes widen and you cover the lower half of your face with your palm as Lando moves the phone so the two of you can be seen on the screen. You shyly wave and his mother proceeds to scream. You jump slightly.

“Sorry, that was your sister.”

Lando laughs, shaking his head.

“You have a sister?” you whisper-ask.

“Yeah,” he holds up two fingers. “Two younger ones. They're Corales.”

Your eyes widen. Corale is the fandom of ORACLE. (You hate this name but that's what the company decided.)

“You're serious.”

“Dead serious,” Lando says. “That's why they called immediately. You're Cisca’s bias. Flo is OT7.”

You gape. You can't believe you're hearing this.

“I—”

Your surprise turns into horror. Lando's sisters are definitely aware of your scandal. As fans of ORACLE, they're certainly updated about it.

Shit.

“Let me talk to her. Let me talk to her. Oh my god, hiiiiii.”

You force yourself to smile and shyly wave at his sister. She squeals, excited.

“OH MY GOD, LANDO YOU FINALLY DID SOMETHING RIGHT IN YOUR LIFE.”

“Hey!” Lando barks. “Can you at least act like you respect me in front of my girlfriend please? Jeez, Cisca.”

“Let me see her—Oh my god, I will cry. Annyeong [Name]-unnie! Eotteohge jinaeseyo? Dangsin-eun neomu yeppeuda!”

You chuckle softly, “Hi, I’m doing well. Thank you for asking.”

“Your Korean is terrible.”

“Shut up, Kinder.”

“I think your Korean is wonderful. Lando is just being mean,” you say, making Lando gasp as if your words offended him. “I love your hair.”

She squeals again, delighted.

“She noticed my hair! Oh my god! I went to the salon today just to talk to you! Wait, you’re speaking English?”

“I can speak English, yes.”

You turn to Lando, “What’s her name again?”

“Cisca.”

“Cisca,” you repeat slowly, testing how it sounds from your tongue.

“She said my name!”

You chuckle.

“Kinder, you are never ever allowed to mess this up! If you break up with her, I'm going to break your legs."

Cisca gets shoved away and another girl replaces her on the screen. Ah, she must be Flo, you think. She and Cisca look alike.

“Hi [Name]!”

“Hi Flo.”

“Have I already told you I loved you?”

You're unsure how to respond, “Thank you?”

“That's enough,” Lando decides, moving the phone away. You hear a series of protests.

“No, no, that’s enough.”

“Don't gatekeep your girlfriend!”

Lando, like a brat, sticks his tongue out to the camera, “I will do whatever I want.”

“Is she going to be in Suzuka? I’m flying to Suzuka! I need to see her!”

“Bye Flo, bye Cisca, bye Mum. Tell Dad and Oliver I said hi.”

“Kinder!”

Lando playfully sticks out his tongue towards the phone and ends the call.

You can't help but feel relieved. You expected them to hate you. But they didn't. So you're grateful.

“That wasn't very nice. They still wanted to talk.”

“No. They just wanted to fangirl.”

You shake your head at him.

“By the way, you’re coming to Suzuka, right? With me?”

He said with me instead of with us again.

“When is that again?”

You can't remember dates very well.

“The 24th.”

“The FP1?”

“No, the FP1’s on the 22nd.”

You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek, “I have to go back to Seoul and talk to Yoon PD-nim.”

Further discussions about the whole agreement and situation has to be made. He sent you to Singapore only a day after accepting Yoon PD-nim's proposal. He didn't elaborate on the situation enough but has promised to explain after Singapore.

“I’ve never been to South Korea before.”

“You should come and visit then," you say, nonchalant.

“Okay, I’ll tell my manager I’m flying with you.”

You blink.

“Heh?”

Koreaboo: Former member of ORACLE, [Name] spotted today at Incheon International Airport with Formula One Racer boyfriend after the Singapore Grand Prix. Click the link to read more about this news.

koreabooo.com

“So you brought the boy along?”

“He brought himself.”

A heavy sigh goes past Yoon PD-nim’s lips. He lowers the paper in his hand to his desk. It's the revised contract with McLaren.

“What did they think about this?”

He’s referring to the contract.

“This isn't what was initially planned.”

“I know.”

“How did you get them to agree with your terms?”

Your terms, you note. His choice of words only remind you how alone you really are. The company is sending you as a soldier to a war you don't know how to navigate into and will do nothing to help you. They'll only wait for you to come back, either as a corpse or as a victor. If you return a corpse, they’ll dump you. Your contract is going to end in less than eleven months, it’ll be easy for them to do so. If you return a victor, they’ll reap all the benefits you sowed. You noticed a new McLaren in the parking lot today. Yoon PD-nim is already reaping benefits. If you're lucky, the only benefit you’ll get after this is a solo debut promotion and a contract extension.

“I did what I could."

You pushed a bluff and hoped it would go your way. Fortunately, it did go your way.

A proud smile appears on Yoon PD-nim's lips.

“I knew I was right in choosing you.”

He can never be so wrong.

A knock on the door ruins your concentration, causing you to draw a stray jagged line on the paper. You sigh, muttering a shibal beneath your breath. You do a quick glance on the time projected in your laptop—11:31 PM. You assume it’s Min Hee, a member of ORACLE who promised to come by earlier after her rehearsal for her solo in the upcoming MAMA Awards in November. It's still quite early to start practicing for the award show but Minhee always liked doing things in advance. When you open the door, your eyes widen.

It's not Minhee.

“Lando?”

[heykaya]

Mentions of Sydney's Other Parent

Extracted from the game’s code (30th October 2024)

During the English Play Rehearsal, when following Kylar back to his Manor with Sydney.

You eventually reach the manor. Sydney looks shocked when you and Kylar stop. "Don't tell me... you actually still live here, Kylar?"

Kylar looks down and nods. Sydney examines the manor from a distance, noticing the temple's symbol on a pillar by the entrance.

(If Kylar’s parents trust is more than 80)

"It was a mess for so long, but it's starting to look... lived in."

(If Kylar’s parents trust is more than 40)

"I thought someone else was getting ready to move in, it's been a mess for so long, but it looks like someone's been cleaning up."

(If Kylar’s parents trust is less than 40)

"It's all... run down, how do you..."

Without responding, Kylar starts walking the main path. He looks back at you one last time, before disappearing into the manor.

The emotion on Sydney's face is hard to read.

> Still?

"What do you mean 'still'?" you ask Sydney.

"Kylar and I, when we were younger, we..." he pauses for a moment. "Our parents knew each other. We... saw each other a lot. I used to come over, it was... nice."

He examines the temple symbol on the pillar again. "Eventually, I just wasn't allowed to come over anymore. My (sydneyOtherParent*) said... no, nevermind. That's not important."

*mother/father, depending on Sirrus’ gender. If Sirrus is a male then sydneyOtherParent will be a female, and vice versa.

Dialogue from the Temple

"A question with so many answers. To whom do you speak? I am not the only one before you." He chuckles to himself. "I am the bishop."

"Father."

"Holy one."

"These two are my hands."

"Right."

"Left."

"We are, all of us, confessors. You've seen us. We've seen you. We simply blend into the background. We handle matters too... ugly... for those of Jordan's flock."

"Ignorance."

"Bliss."

>”remember"

"Ahh, so you do remember our first meeting. I knew you were a person of interest as soon as I heard about you getting out of that manor."

"Destiny?"

"Providence?"

>”jordan"

The bishop laughs. Hard. He throws his head back, and wipes a tear from his face. "Get comfortable, sweet child." All the other dark-robed figures sit down.

"Jordan's flock is the face of our order. They take confessions. They give alms, and run the soup kitchen, and smite the creatures from the other side that creep through the holes. But they won't ever harm... us. Humans. They're powerless against humans who have fallen to corruption. This is why we're needed."

He delights in speaking. "Without us, the temple would have fallen long ago. In fact, it did, once. Jordan and his order can stir soup, and spar, and fight monsters of mist and sin, but ask yourself this:

(If you know about Kylar’s parents)

Could they ever exact justice on your girlfriend’s/boyfriend’s* parents? And leave their child behind?

*depending on Kylar’s gender.

(If you don’t know about Kylar’s parents)

Could they ever fight the human monsters? No, if Jordan knew what we were capable of, it would cause another schism. But make no mistake. Jordan is our brother. Family. Kin. We all work towards the same goal. We all seek to protect. We all seek to rid the world of the Dark Elk's taint."

He pauses, and frowns. "More than that, Jordan is strong. Stronger than all of us. Stronger than we could ever hope to be. His innocence makes him so. That innocence is a shield, one that the Children of Auriga can never pierce. Belief is real, more real than the Elk's vile spawn. It is vital that Jordan remains unaware of what we do, lest our shield splinter. The seal of confession must hold, or all the world will drown."

"Our greatest strength."

"Our greatest weakness."

(If Sydney is Pure:)

He sighs. "We've only one member that could hope to match Jordan's innocence."

(If Sydney is not pure:)

He sighs. "We only had one other member that could hope to match Jordan's innocence."

>”replacement"

He grins.

(If PC if promised to Sydney)

"You should know, child. It's your beloved. Sydney."

(If PC is romancing Sydney)

"You should know, child. You've had many relations with him. Our own little Sydney."

(Else)

"I believe you've met him. Our own little Sydney."

(If Sydney is Corrupt + promised to Sydney)

"Together, As One."

"Forever, As One."

(If Sydney is Corrupt)

"Withered."

"Bloomed."

"You went and spoilt him, did you not? His innocence is gone. You couldn't have known, child, and you've made it up to us by being here now.

He’s been in the flock for years, but has been stifled by the overprotective Jordan.

(If Sydney is a monk)

I understand you're to thank for him finally passing the trial of anguish. You have our thanks for that."

(If Sydney is not a monk)

The poor boy has never been able to pass the trial of anguish.

The bishop looks down and frowns. You think you see a hint of genuine sadness. "Sydney's (mother/father) was Jordan's predecessor. A good (man/woman). We've looked after Sydney ever since. If nothing else, we're paying back a debt."

When walking along the beach with Sydney (Random dialogue)

"My (mother/father) used to bring me to the beach when I was a lot younger. This is nice."

Also mentioned by the Ivory Wraith here.

Degrees of Lewdity - Text Based Masterpost

[exoticb-utters]

So this is Love?

“Flufftober” series. 5 All Smite X Reader Part 1/3 Word Count: 1.7k

Writing this for self indulgent purposes…enjoy ;)

You huffed in frustration, wiping the water that relentlessly poured down your face from the heavy rain. A crack of thunder is heard overhead as your heels clack against the ground.

Knew I should’ve brought an umbrella to work today…

You stomp your way home, silently chastising yourself for forgetting that it would be raining today- well, technically tonight. Fortunately, you didn’t live too far away.

Just as you pass an alleyway, you heard a cough. You slow down your movements, turning your head to the ominously dark path. 

“H-hello?” You call out, not sure if you wanted a response in this situation. 

Instead, another cough rings out from the darkness, this one sounding more ragged and…wet?

“D-do you need help? It’s raining pretty hard out here…” You trail off, lifting a hand over your eyes to block the cold water from running down your face further. 

Nothing fills the silence this time. 

You take a deep breath before exhaling with a sigh. Just your luck. 

You turn on your heel and walk into the abyss. The night sky and even darker clouds did nothing to help you see in this alley, but there were some (barely) functional streetlights behind you. 

You spot a large figure, kneeling behind a dumpster in a hunched over position. “Sir, a-are you hurt?” You ask, nervously approaching the stranger. 

What were you doing? This is crazy! You, a single woman, are approaching a random man in an alleyway for crying out loud! 

Another sickly cough is ripped from his lungs, his chest heaving as a crimson liquid spills out onto the pavement beneath him. 

Well, this random man in the alleyway clearly needs help. Your brain reminds you. As a nurse, it was hard to ignore your moral code. Guess old habits die hard. 

With another sigh you bend over, inspecting him further. You almost immediately notice a large gash on his side. You quickly cover your mouth to hide your gasp. 

“You’re hurt!” You exclaim as your eyes flickered over his body, searching for any extra injuries.

“Well, obviously.” The man before you sneers, his voice deep and…slightly intimidating if you were being honest. He hacks once more, another concerning amount of blood splattering against the ground as he did so. 

“Here, let me help you.” You offer your hand. Who were you kidding, this guy was a literal giant- no wayyou were lifting him up. 

You see his head tilt to the side, as if he were giving you a once over before scoffing. 

“Come on, you’re seriously hurt, can you walk?” You question, slightly retracting your hand. 

“Yeah…probably.” He answers almost shakily, all previous attitude in his tone gone. 

“Well, you can’t just sit here and bleed out so up you go!” You huff, taking his hand in an unsuccessful attempt to lift him to his feet. 

He sighs to himself before pushing himself up, standing on his feet now. 

And holy shit was he tall. 

“Lean on me if you have to, my apartment’s closer than the hospital so I’ll fix you up there okay?” You say softly, looking up at him to make sure he was okay. 

You found he was already looking down at you. His thick blonde brows were furrowed in an unreadable expression as blood ran from his forehead to his chin. You felt a shiver run down your spine at his intense gaze. You quickly brushed it off, not letting yourself overthink the action. 

“I’ll take that as a yes…” You answer for him, the heavy pitter-patter of the rain drowning out any surrounding sounds other than your soft tone. 

“It’s just down the street.” You lead him out the alleyway, his large arm slung across your shoulder awkwardly as he held his injured side. 

You’re given a curt nod as he hobbles next to you. The sight of your predicament was truly an unruly one, thankfully, the hour of this rainy night prevented anyone from being outside to witness it.

In record time, you made it to your small home. You helped him up the stairs before opening the front door.

“You don’t lock your doors?” Whether it was a look of astonishment or disdain he was giving you, you couldn’t tell. 

“Um��no? Is that weird?” You reply, chuckling to yourself. You led him to your living room, motioning for him to sit on the couch while you looked for your med-kit. 

“Well, seeing how there are villains around these parts that could break in at any time while you’re away- yes. It is very weird.” He says matter-of-factly while you fished through the bathroom cabinets. 

You snort out a laugh from the other side of the house at his reply, coming back with the kit and rag in hand. He then plopped down on the sofa, the furniture dipping in from his size with a dangerous groan.

“Well, with heroes around I guess I haven’t found a reason to lock it.” You hum with a shrug, sitting next to him on the coach. 

“Lift your shirt for me.” 

He did so reluctantly, revealing a deep gash with blood spilling from it. You sharply inhale through your teeth as you hold your rag against the wound. 

“You need a better bed-side face doc.” He quips, a huff of amusement leaving his lips. If the room wasn’t so quiet, you might’ve missed it. 

Wait a minute…Did he see you leave the hospital? No, that’s impossible how did he know you were a nurse? Your gaze then flew to his in shock. “How did you…?” 

“You still have your tag on, you know that right?” He muses with a raised brow. 

Oh. 

Well, that makes more sense. 

You’re taken by surprise when he slowly reads your name aloud. “Hm, a villain could’ve definitely used your identity against you. You need to be more careful, y/n.” He repeats, your name almost sounding natural coming from his lips. 

“Seems to me that you’re awfully paranoid.” You retort, removing the bloodied rag and taking out the gauze. 

“Or you could just be extremely reckless.” He counters as you begin to stuff the wound to prevent further bleeding. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You say finally, wrapping medical cloth around his midsection. 

A comfortable silence fell over you, nothing being heard but the quiet rain from outside. His gaze eventually fell over you. He’d never had someone so gentle with him, All Smite. The number one villain. Clearly you didn’t know his infamous title, or you wouldn’t have him in your home right now. 

He liked it, the break from not instantly being recognized as the number 1 villain in Japan. Maybe he’ll even thank you for your hospitality. 

You tape up the wrap, making sure it wouldn’t move. “Okay, that should hold until the morning when I can take you in for proper treatment at the hospital.” You say while wiping your hand against your forehead, some light sweat forming after the work.

“Let me know if you bleed through the wraps, I’ll change it out whenever okay?” You spare a quick glance at the man in front of you, zipping up the medical equipment.

He looks down at the bandaging, fingers lightly brushing over the material. Another beat goes by before he speaks. “Thank you.” 

“Of course!” You manage, giving him a quick, biter-sweet smile. “I’ll have to make my way to bed now. I wake up early for my next shift.” You say with an exhausted sigh. 

He raises a brow at your words. It was already late, and to think you would be waking up early for another shift was quite the absurd thought to him. 

“How many hours do you work?” He asks, your eyes meeting to his in surprise. 

“Usually around 40-50 a week, I’m always on call during the week but I get weekends off so…” You say with a shrug. 

He shakes his head. That was…objectively too much. Before he has a chance to respond you’re already speaking again. “Well, goodnight! You’re welcome to sleep in the spare bedroom if you’d like.” You offer, motioning to a room down the hall. 

He nods slowly, watching you walk down a different hallway to where he’d assume were your own personal quarters. 

How interesting you were. Interesting and extremely naive. Not only did you just bring the most feared man in all of Japan inside your own home without even realizing it, you gave him hospitality and left him unattended. 

He chuckles to himself, standing up before walking to the spare room you were talking about. 

Opening the door he is meet with a twin bed adorned with white sheets and a single pillow. Other than the bed and a small coffee table next to a window, the room was utterly bare. 

He hummed to himself, sitting on the bed while looking at the window. He watched the water run down the glass tranquilly, lightning flashing in the distance every so often.

He didn’t think he’d stay until morning, but resting his eyes here couldn’t hurt. There was something warm and endearing about your presence. Something he didn’t even know he was missing until encountering you. 

He’d keep an eye on you, someone who doesn’t lock their doors is sure to be prone to robbery...or some form of villainy. As the man of crime himself, he knew this all too well, more than anyone else. 

He took off his shoes, setting them next to the bed. He laid back into the mattress, the bed frame creaking loudly under his weight. 

Even though his ankles were well off the edge of the bed, he couldn’t recall a time where he’d been this comfortable; so at peace. 

He closed his eyes, he’d stay here and rest. 

At least for a little bit.