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yesimwriting · 3 months

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Understanding

Part 2: Untethered

A/n the reader in this is not the same reader as the one from my aemond fic, they just have a similar background for plot (and bc i love rhaenyra's child x alicent's child trope, it's so montagues and capulets)

Summary: After speaking to his mother and small council, Aegon begins to doubt the unspoken understanding between himself and Rhaenyra's intended heir, who agreed to be taken by the greens in exchange for her brother's life.

Warnings: there are some plot deviations (mainly the implication that aegon and helaena are not married), the whole ethical 'dating someone you're technically holding hostage' dilemma, and canon compliant incest

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The groan of the floorboards takes its time floating through your apartments, the sound so soft you don't even stir.

Aegon sighs. You've been a ridiculously heavy sleeper since childhood. He can still recall the way you'd leave these very apartments for breakfast, hair unbrushed and eyes drowsy. He dismisses the thought as he takes another step forward. You're no longer a princess with the luxury of leisure. You're staying in what you consider 'enemy territory'. One would think you'd have the decency to struggle to find sleep. If nothing else, the decency to miss him.

He swallows. Thoughts of the corner of your mouth tugging itself into a smile you didn't mean to share, of your gentle whispers felt more than heard in the darkness, of the warmth of your fingertips dragging against his skin have plagued him since he left you this morning. Aegon has not been able to release you from his mind, and here you are, perfectly content without him in a room you are only allowed access to because of his favor.

If you continue to indulge her, she'll never feel like a prisoner. The echo of his mother's words feel sharper than they should, a needle piercing his chest. Aegon had originally dismissed the sentiment. Despite the complicated nature of your presence here, the two of you have found a sort of rhythm. An inconvenient understanding.

So what if he offers you privileges that none of his half-sister's children should be allotted? You dismiss your instincts in favor of being there for him in a way no one else is. You talk; and you listen; and you lay next to him in the dark, your fingers tracing patterns against his arm until you fall asleep.

Aegon had never felt affronted by the casualness of your unspoken arrangement until his mother brought him back to reality. As long as you allow her to exist in this in between without asking for anything in return, she will remain loyal to her mother. A mother who is desperate enough to marry her off to secure alliances.

The floor creeks as he takes another step forward, this time the sound less dismissible. You shift, body twisting as you move from your stomach onto your side.

A pinprick of something akin to guilt dulls the beginning of his spiral. You mumble a sound that feels like a question. Aegon studies your movements as you wipe at your eyes. You lift your head slightly, eyes squinting in the darkness.

"Aegon?" Your features seem to ease, a hint of a smile pulling at your lips as you lift your head. "I didn't think you had time for me tonight."

There's a gentleness to your voice that leaves his stomach in knots. He's lapped at your affection like a wounded dog finally stumbling onto water. Has it all been a ploy?

If his silence affects your disposition, you give no indication of it. Instead, you beam at him before allowing yourself to slump onto your back. You pull at the blankets in an attempt to create space for him.

Aegon keeps his back to you as he sits. He takes his time laying down, one of his arms resting in the space between the two of you. Still half asleep, you reach for him. The back of your palm brushes against his wrist. You turn your hand over, fingers beginning their familiar path up his arm.

His eyes remain open, his attention set on the ceiling. You've yet to finish outlining his forearm before Aegon's turning his arm. The shift is subtle, more of an implication than an actual attempt at dismissing you. The subtlety of the movement is not enough to prevent your reaction. Despite his jokes and teasing comments, Aegon knows better than to do anything that offers you an opportunity to overthink about your your time alone together. There's a moment of stillness, and then your hand leaves him.

You turn onto your side, the weight of your stare making it nearly impossible for Aegon to remain still. "Are you--are you alright?" The question is cautious, tinged by an uncertainty that makes you sound smaller than you ever have before.

Have you ever experienced any type of rejection before? You're Rhaenyra's first born, her intended heir. The beloved princess, doted on by your mother, cared for by your supposed father, spoiled by your grandsire. His father's illness was never enough to keep him from you, the only child he had the strength to get out of bed for. You don't know what it's like to long for anything.

"We had an arrangement--an agreement." Aegon pushes himself away from you as he sits. You prop your head up, staring at him. Aegon cannot bring himself to look into your eyes. "That I'd be honest with you, and you'd be honest with me."

You sit up. "What?" You bend your knees, the sheets slipping down your legs. Aegon presses his nails into the skin of his palm. "I've--I've been honest. I've never lied to you."

The defense comes out so quick and innocent it nearly strips the accusation of any weight. It's a response that'd better suit a child caught stealing extra sweets or rough housing with a younger sibling.

He finally turns his head. The room's lack of light is not enough to diminish your wide eyes. You're radiating such innocence Aegon could choke on it. He's reminded of why he kept you at arm's length throughout your childhood. The good, perfect daughter. The future heir.

"You said your mother had no intentions of marrying you off. That you were not betrothed--"

"I'm not."

Aegon lets out a breath. "Then why did I have to spend most of my evening listening to my small council discuss your mother's latest potential alliances and addressing rumors about your mother's plan to marry you to some lord as a way of securing their support?"

You're quiet for a moment, hands clasped tightly around your knees. "I cannot help rumors." Some odd feeling gnaws at Aegon's stomach. "And you know that I haven't been home in some time. I can't control my mother anymore than you can control yours."

What a politically appropriate answer. He scoffs. "I find it difficult to believe that your mother would ever use you as a bargaining chip without--at the very least--mentioning it to you first."

If there's one thing that doesn't come naturally to you, it's deception. You tilt your chin downwards, your attention falling onto anything that isn't him.

Aegon reaches for your hand. You let him untangle your fingers. He pulls your hand forward, his thumb dragging against your knuckles. His hold on you tightens as he brings the back of your palm to his lips. A part of him is repulsed by how much he means the gesture.

He doesn't let go of you as he brings his hand back to the mattress. Aegon allows himself a moment to embrace the stillness, and then he's shifting forward. His available hand finds your shoulder. His weight presses against you, forcing you back until you're pinned against the headboard.

He holds his breath, waiting for some kind of protest, some insult or attempt to push him away. All you do is watch him, the slightest crease between your eyebrows. "Aegon."

"Tell me." Aegon's fingers press into your shoulder. "Tell me it isn't true and I will believe you. I want to believe you."

Your lips part, but you do not speak. An uncomfortable heat burns its way up his neck. "I--I did not lie." You hold his gaze. "I am not betrothed, but before I was brought here, my mother did mention that she was beginning to consider it."

All of the time he's spent indulging in your presence, living out some ridiculous fantasy of having your attention, believing everything you've told him--he's been nothing more than a fool.

"I wanted to mention it when you asked, but I was..." Your voice wavers. "Honestly, I was afraid."

His gaze falls downwards, his eyes unintentionally landing on your lips. "Because you needed me."

"No." You shake your head slightly, the motion rigid. "Our understanding," you pause, lips briefly pressing together, "Our friendship, was so new and uncertain--and I was afraid of ruining it, of being alone here, of--of the potential engagement. All of it." Your eyes are shinier than they were a moment ago. "I wanted to pretend it didn't exist."

This is the first time you've ever given any indication of not naturally taking to your responsibilities. You agreed to be taken hostage in exchange for your brother's life with little complaint or theatrical martyrism, but the thought of marrying a stranger to aid your mother's war effort shakes you to your core.

Sympathy and petulant satisfaction blend together uneasily, a continuation in the cycle of wanting you while also desiring to take everything from you.

His thumb drags down your shoulder, the warmth of your skin nearly dizzying. "Would you do it if she asked?"

You swallow. "It wouldn't matter. I'm here." He continues to trace a pattern against your shoulder. You squeeze his hand. "You can't have a wedding without the bride."

You're holding onto him with an intensity that's easing. "And if you weren't?"

As silence falls over the two of you, Aegon studies your expression. You're giving him very little to work with. "I wouldn't have a choice." Anything you've had with him has been out of the sake of convenience. It doesn't matter to you. "Aegon, you--you understand that." His lips part, but he has no response worth giving. "You have to understand that."

Aegon's hold on your hand tightens, fingers digging into into the skin of your palm. "Why?" The desperation in the question turns his stomach. He shifts his weight away from you, his hand trailing down your arm. "Do you care for me?"

Your straighten, back pulling away from the headboard. Aegon cannot will himself to read your features. "Do I care for you?" There's a barely there lilt to your voice that only makes it impossible for him to just sit there.

He forces himself to focus on the crumpled sheets in front of him. Something warm finds its way to his cheek--your hand. Your thumb drags itself across the side of his face. Aegon allows his eyes to fall shut. Gently, you guide his head forward.

"Aegon." He opens his eyes. "How many times have I been alone with you, have I--have I slept in the same bed as you?" You stumble, eyes briefly leaving his. Aegon can't help his slight smile. While you've always known about the impropriety of sleeping next to him, he doubts you know why it's viewed that way. You let out a breath in an attempt to recover. "I have risked my reputation, risked betraying my own mother--and you have to ask."

Aegon's vision blurs. He presses his lips together, forcing himself to not look away. "Of course I care for you."

He places a hand over the one you placed on his cheek. There's a lot of responses that Aegon should offer you, some declaration, some assurance of his fondness for you, but he's never been particularly talented at expressing the sentimental.

His fingers bend around your own, carefully pulling your hand away from his cheek. He sets your hand down on the mattress gently. You blink at him curiously, but before you can overthink the action, Aegon's shifting forward.

He presses his lips against yours. You're rigid, body still until he pulls your bottom lip between both of his. Aegon moves closer, one hand finding the back of your head. You lean forward, arms wrapping around his neck. You move your weight onto your knees, Aegon's available hand coming to your waist to keep you stable.

Aegon's head tilts back, creating space that you're more than ready to fill. His teeth tug at your bottom lip. You hands slide away from his neck, down his shoulders, settling on his chest. Aegon's hand moves away from your hip, coming to rest on your thigh.

The need for air brings him back to reality. Aegon breaks the kiss slowly, pulling away without letting you go. For a moment, all he can do is grin at you as you both catch your breath. "If I had known you had it in you, Princess..."

The use of your title seems to make you realize that you're still practically on his lap. You move back, making a point of sitting up straight. You roll your eyes, but between your ragged breaths and inability to lift your gaze, the look falls flat.

You keep your legs between the two of you, a barrier that bends at your knees. Aegon's smile broadens. He's not sure he's ever seen you so unsure of yourself. "I--that wasn't..."

"You can relax." You finally look up again, eyebrows drawn together in what he assumes is a display of skepticism. "I won't tell anyone." His hand find your lower leg, fingers tracing a delicate pattern against your skin. "And if anyone accuses you of anything, I'll have their tongue."

He sets his hand against your knee, his touch growing in security. You stare at your leg incredulously. "Aegon."

"What?" His thumb trails across your skin. "Would you prefer their head?"

You tilt your head, expression unamused. Aegon smiles, leaning forward to place a quick kiss against your knee before moving towards his original spot. You turn your head, watching him carefully.

Aegon lets out a sigh as he sinks into a pillow. "I'm tired."

You lay down next to him. "I didn't realize I wore you out."

The grin in your voice is audible. Aegon uses his forearm for support as he lifts himself to lean over you. "Do not start something you can't finish."

The corner of your mouth pulls itself upwards, the look similar but not quite the same as the accidental smiles Aegon has grown accustomed to. He smiles as he lies down, his head resting against your upper stomach.

You're quick to accept the proximity, your hand moving to smooth through his hair. Aegon's arm settles against your waist. This newfound closeness is nearly overwhelming in the relief it offers him. The feeling grabs at him, forcing out words he is not ready to say, "We could always get married." He tries to swallow, but the dryness of his mouth makes it impossible. "Then your mother wouldn't be able to marry you off to anyone."

Your fingers stall against his scalp. "Aegon--"

"I'd be a good husband to you."

At your silence, his fingers press into your side as if you might slip away if given the chance. After a beat, your nails begin to brush through his hair again. "You are thinking of the war, of your claim, of--of your small cou--"

"I am thinking of you."

You let out a sigh Aegon feels more than hears. "We need to be realistic. Would my mother's retaliation not concern you?"

He forces himself to focus on your tangibility. "The only thing concerning me is figuring out how to keep you here as long as possible." He drags his knuckles against your hip. "You once told me that you'd never get married, and that instead you'd spend your life riding dragons and eating cake."

You let out a soft laugh. "I can't believe you remember that."

"You sounded very serious." Aegon releases your side in favor of finding your hand. His fingers trace patterns against your palm. "We could get married and spend our days riding dragons and eating cake."

Your drag your hand away from his head, palm settling against his back. You begin to smooth circles against the fabric of his shirt. "Now you be serious."

Aegon intertwines your fingers, squeezing your palm to his. "I know better than to jest about cake."

You're so quiet he'd assume you fell asleep if it wasn't for the patterns still being traced against his spine. "Can we just...can we give it some time?"

He's not sure what you expect to get from time. The realm will still be divided, his half-sister will only grow more desperate and willing to marry you off for support, and his mother will continue to question why he's keeping you in this limbo. But the request is far from a rejection.

You've always been practical, the kind of person to think through prospects instead of trusting your instinct. Aegon is your best option, the closest thing you have to a lifeline. The way you feel about him has already encouraged you to cross lines you would have never considered approaching. Perhaps time and his attention will be what it takes to put it all into perspective for you.

Aegon lifts your hand to his mouth, his lips brushing against your knuckles. "We can give it all the time you need, Princess."

You mumble something he can't quite make out. Before Aegon can ask about it, your hand stills against him. Without looking up, he knows that you've fallen asleep.

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A/n i had to throw in a little alicent and rhaenyra parallel <3 i could see myself writing a part 2 to this so if you like that idea lmk!! or if u want more hotd in general :)

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #hotd x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon #aegon x reader #x targaryen!reader #hotd aegon #aegon the second #aegon the second x reader

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bonny-kookoo · 11 months

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Jungkook

𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙚 | 🔞 Main Work

He's one of the best, no race too tough to handle, every track a new challenge he takes on- especially when it's you who's waiting at the finish line for him.

Tags/Warnings: Racer!Jungkook, established relationship, romance, suggestive themes, heavy flirting, adult content, mentions of online hate, only minor angst, they're a power couple, this MC is now my spirit animal, smut

Length: ~5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: I know nothing about actual car racing. Pls don't take it too seriously, thanks haha 💗

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"But be real here-" A fellow driver asks, sitting down at the side now to pick up a water bottle. "-I always wondered, are you like, actually a couple?" He asks, taking a sip of his water, replenishing what he's sweat out during the training session with Jungkook and the other drivers.

Jungkook sighs to himself, before he gets into a sitting position, tapping the timer on his phone to a stop. He gets these questions a lot- whether or not you're in if for the right reasons, how good your pussy must be to have him put up with your annoying attitude all the time, or how someone like him isn't hooking up with models and actresses left and right. He's not sure why it's such an outrageous thing apparently to have a stable relationship, but somehow, if he just went by what magazines and online gossip-blogs report, it's apparently absolutely unthinkable to be in a normal loving relationship in his position.

But he is. And he intends to keep it that way for as long as you'll have him.

He loves you, dearly so. Your 'bad habits' and flaws are just as endearing to him as the rest of you, mainly because you were also there when he was just starting out, bank account almost always empty at every end of the month, rent barely being paid. You stayed even when he was at his lowest, you cheered him on when he won his first major race, and you consistently keep supporting him at every event you can. And to him, you're prettier than any model he could ever come across anyways.

"We're an actual couple indeed." Jungkook affirms, locking his phone before he screws open a plastic bottle of water himself.

"But like, isn't it a bit disappointing sometimes?" Jake asks him. "Like, I heard you never go to afterparties, and if you do it's always with her. You could have anyone, man." He laughs.

"You'll get there too, maybe." Jungkook chuckles simply, when the door opens, and familiar jingles of jewelry make him smile to turn around- and there you are, meeting his eyes with a smile, as he instantly moves to stand up.

"I bought you all your favorite snacks, and there's like, one of those electrolyte drinks there too." You say after pecking his lips with your strawberry flavored lipbalm, putting the white plastic bag into his hands. "You're not overdoing it, right?" You ask, and he grins, shaking his head.

"I'm almost finished anyways. You wanna wait up here? We can go back to the hotel together then." He asks you, gently pulling your hair out of your long earrings where some of it had gotten tangled. You let him, and wait for him to lean back as a sign that he's finished, before you answer.

"If it's not too much of a bother? There's already a bunch of paparazzi outside, I think someone might've leaked your location online.." You tell him, and he grows serious at that.

"Then you'll wait. I don't want you going back to the hotel alone if they're outside." He tells you now, not giving you another option. He remembers the last time you almost got mobbed at the airport, simply because you flew out the country a day after he did- and of course it created rumors and the wildest theories as to why that might've been the case. It's what happens to him constantly due to his status as the 'hottest race driver of his generation'.

One magazine reported that you apparently have been spotted fighting by someone at a restaurant, and that that could explain why you had sunglasses on during the airport walk- because you two probably broke up, and your eyes must've been swollen from crying. In reality, you always wore shades or shielded your eyes, because you're sensitive to the camera lights and the masses of people make you anxious, so you always try and blur them out somewhat.

Another online forum speculated that you two definitely broke up, and that it was long coming, because the hate must've gotten to you finally. That there's just no way you both could've ever worked out, and that it was just pushed by your parents so you'd have the most comfortable life imaginable. Your father allegedly introduced you to Jungkook at a press conference, which made Jungkook laugh.

True, your parents know each other- but only because you're a couple, and obviously became closer over the years of dating. It didn't make sense that you both just became a couple so you'd have it easy, when he's mentioned multiple times that you both have been dating for way longer than the span of his career.

And then, that one gossip site that pushed the narrative that he cheated on you at the last afterparty. That there's images from the event where he can be seen with a woman with long dark hair that's definitely not you, and that you most likely found out and kicked him out- and just flew out to start a new life in a different country.

That one made him angry.

The woman he'd been seen with was Mingyu's mother- his best friend whom he'd helped out the burning wreck of his car after he'd crashed into the side barriers. She'd simply been there to thank him, and he'd hugged her just as a way of reassuring her that he'd always be there for any of his teammates, no matter what. And that specific website constantly stirred up cheating allegations- either at him, or you, it didn't matter. Clearly edited photos, alleged video evidence that didn't even show you both at all, it was stupid, really.

He's lucky that you don't instantly believe anything you see. Up until now, you always confronted him first if there was anything you were concerned about. And you trusted him, just as much as he trusted you.

Finishing up his workout, he takes the towel you offer with a thanks, deciding to ignore Jake's stares at your tits for now, since it doesn't appear to bother you at all. And honestly, he can understand. They do look great.

And they feel even better- but that's only for him to know.

The moment you both exit the gym they're all there- and he instantly moves you slightly behind him to properly shield you from anyone trying to reach out to you, which has happened often enough before to make him now hyperaware of it. But you somehow make it into the car waiting to take him back to the hotel without anything happening- though the questions hurled at you both from every side do annoy him to high heavens.

Jungkook are you still together?

Jungkook did you both talk things out?

Jungkook did you really cheat on her?

Jungkook-

"Jungkook." You ask him, and he moves his head to you now. "I asked you if we wanted to take a bath at the hotel? The tub is huge!" You beam at him, and at the sight of you all genuinely happy and carefree, he smiles, nodding, before he takes your hand to hold.

As long as you're still there, everything's fine.

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"Oh god-" You breath out, hand in his hair while he's gripping your thighs over his shoulders to keep them open.

Your panties are still hanging from one of your ankles, toes curled as he licks and swallows over your core, orgasm rapidly approaching you as he places a teasing kiss to your sensitive pearl. He moves around with ease, slips out of his pants rather quickly before he pushes your legs towards you once more, aligning himself with your entrance after lubing himself up shamelessly with your arousal he's gathered with his hand.

He doesn't need to rid you of any clothes- he's done that already.

You always joke that the secret to your happy relationship is back-breaking sex and good cooking- but sometimes, you actually believe it.

It's his main way of relieving stress- he's told you as much before. And he also enjoys the more romantic and sensual aspects of it, the closeness to you, and the knowledge that it's something special just between the two of you. It's always a little playful, unserious, light and relaxing, especially afterwards- the shared afterglow you both experience always something special where you both reconnect and bond once more. It's like you grow closer every time you're together like this.

Even though, according to him, that's impossible.

"Gonna.. wanna take you to the movies..!" He grits out, leaning back while while he holds your legs by the backs of your knees, thrusting his hips steadily into you. "Ah, fuck.."

"Can I- can I choose?" you giggle in pleasure, hands over your head grabbing the pillows while he watches your chest swing in the rhythm of his pace.

"Hm, I don't know.." He mumbles, leaning over you now after letting go of your legs to peck your cheek. "What do you wanna watch?" He wonders, before mouthing at your neck.

"Right now?" You hum dreamily, closing your eyes at the sensations of it all. "Wanna watch you." You say, and he chuckles against your skin, hands next to your head steadying him as he slows down a bit to a more sensual rhythm, though he presses himself deeper at the same time, making you arch your back as your legs hook together over his back.

"You're so cute." He teases, one of his hands moving to run over your chest, playfully smacking one of them once to earn a squeak from you- and laughter from him.

"Kook-!" You whine, and he mimics your tone a little, before his hand moves over your body between your legs where you're currently connected, fingers toying around with you. "Yes-!" You beg, thighs pressing together against his body, before you reach your high, muscles twitching from the feeling, while he becomes a bit more erratic now with your core clenching around his length.

He cums a little afterwards, pulling out before he spills his seed over your lower abdomen, the sight always doing something to him.

"You know, I really wanna go to that premiere that I was invited to with you." He says after taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair, getting up after leaning over you to peck your lips twice- because once is never really enough for him.

"Heh, you know I'll always be at your side if you want me there." You sing-song, stretching your limbs while he turns on the water in the bathtub, door open to be able to hear you. "So, if you wanna take me, of course I'll be your arm-candy!" You chirp, and he smiles as he returns with some babywipes in his hands to wipe down your skin.

"I always want you at my side." He tells you gently, careful with the rather cold wipes on your skin. "And I'm glad you're still willing to put up with me and this whole thing." He shrugs, throwing the tissues away in the trashcan.

"Why wouldn't I?" You wonder up at him as he hooks his hands underneath your back and legs to carry you into the bathroom of the hotel room you're staying at, to help you into the tub.

"Why would you?" He sighs, getting into the tub as well, unscrewing the small bottle of soap offered by the hotel to pour it into the water. "I sometimes really wonder how.. strong you must be to just constantly put up with all the things said about you and me." He says, pulling you closer to him as the bubbles form with the water pouring in. "…I was really scared, you know." He mumbles onto your skin before he kisses your shoulder.

"Of what?" You ask, unsure.

"When the rumor spread of me cheating. I always.. get worried you might become doubtful of me when things like these are said." He admits to you, before you turn around in his arms, his hands immediately on your hips.

"I'm not worried though." You simply tell him, running your hands through his hair before they settle around his neck. "I trust you." You shrug, and he moves his hands up to hold your cheeks, pulling you closer to kiss you until you giggle, pushing against his pecks to get him away. "Kook no-" You laugh, but he whines.

"But I want to love my girlfriend!" He complains.

"You just did!" You argue back, and he plays with his lip rings for a second.

"But you deserve more." He purrs, trying a little more.

"And my pussy needs a break!" You respond back, making him laugh. This is why he loves you so much- why he loves your relationship so much. Living with you is easy, it's relaxing, it's light and it takes his mind off of all the worries he has.

Because when he's with you, it's like none of it matters. He can just fall into your arms and trust you to catch him every single time.

And you do. Just like right now, as you kiss him until the water cools down, and the bubbles are all gone.

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Something he's never really told you is the amount of people trying to get to you- through him of all people.

Mainly because everyone still somewhat believes the most common rumor that you're just a sugar baby kind of situation- that you're up for anyone, as long as the numbers fit your standards. It's infuriating really, makes his blood boil because what else does he have to do to make people take you both seriously? It's not even just the fact that they apparently don't take him seriously as your partner- but that they really think you'd be someone to use others for money, just because you're not the quiet sweet person in the background who they can bully around.

But he has a plan. Foolproof, really, and he's wanted to do that this year anyways.

"I need my good-luck-kiss.." He teases, keeping you close to him.

"Well if we had enough time I'd give you the whole good-luck-menu, but you gotta go get ready now." You giggle while he bites at your neck.

"Not yet.." He complains, already in his overalls, helmet on the bench close by. You're hiding behind a corner like schoolkids attempting not to get caught skipping class, and he admits that you both do this a lot. He just can't get enough, and today especially, he just wants to make sure the cameras can see his marks on you, and know that they're his. "Will you watch the race?" He asks, and you giggle.

"Of course. I always do." You promise, and he grins, before he pecks your lips one last time, finally getting ready.

You're standing in the VIP spots, watching closely how he starts the race, seemingly a bit behind. But he's pushy, he always is, competitiveness not letting him lose without a fight. And fighting he does, quickly catching up as he squeezes past several other competitors, making your pulse rise quite a bit. Truth be told, you always worry- especially after his friend's last accident that you witnessed that day. The race had been interrupted because of it, and had been decided to be re-started at a later date once Mingyu had fully recovered.

He only sustained minor injuries, cracked a rib and a minor concussion, but nothing else. But the sight of the car will stay in your head for quite a while.

You have nightmares, sometimes. Of Jungkook being in a wreck like that, flames swallowing his broken body whole, and you can't do anything to save him. That's most likely the biggest reason you're always a little on edge whenever he drives. You know he's a good driver, of course he is- but still. You can't help but worry.

Not that you'll ever tell him. He doesn't need about something stupid like that.

It's not even half an hour in, and a black flag is waved at a blue car lagging behind. There's smoke coming from the back wheels- so he's asked to leave the tracks and drive into his pit box, which he promptly does to get his vehicle inspected. It seems to be a more serious issue however- because the announcer suddenly explains that the racer named Jake Pitcher won't return to the tracks.

Time passes by, and the race goes on without much interruption. Everyone follows the rules, flags are waved left and right to navigate things happening, and your eyes occasionally lose sight of the mainly red and black hyundai Jungkook is driving, though you always find him again at the very top, leading the race. It's after the second pit stop that a driver in a sky-blue Toyota is becoming visibly more aggressive, especially towards Jungkook.

It's alright to be a bit pushy, you've learned that that's the norm- but this guy is putting other drivers in danger with just how close he's pressing himself against Jungkook's back and another's side.

But this is the sport. It's an aggressive one, and the rules about how to race are pretty grey.

Someone crashes, a yellow and green racecar you've seen earlier. The vehicle spins on the ground in donuts a few times before it comes to a stop on the grass, and the team is visibly running around to sort things out. It's announced that the driver is awake and alert, and doesn't seem injured- and the car is towed safely away, one lane closed until everything is cleared once more, caution in place for now causing everyone to slow down a little until the track is cleared again.

Jungkook had crashed before. Multiple times, even. He's cracked ribs, bruised his body, broken bones. Never anything too serious- but enough to remind you every time how dangerous his career is. You hate that side of it, and sometimes you really wish he would just call it quits- but you also understand that he's passionate about this, that this is his dream.

You'll always remember his worst crash- the way his car had flown through the air rolling around like it was nothing but a toy, front wheels almost pulled off entirely- and your fear inside your bones as it took him ages it felt like to climb out of the wreck, surprisingly unscathed, only bruised badly in some spots.

He was on a stretcher that day, a safety precaution even though he turned out mostly fine. You remember not even having the energy to scold him in hospital, crying at his side for hours it felt like until he'd managed to calm you down enough, his laugh teasing as he'd helped you wipe off your ruined makeup before going back to the hotel later to sleep- your body even clingier than ever before.

It's his fourth pit stop. Things are looking good- this time the car seems to be holding up a lot better than last time when he only made the third place, and the commenters seem to recognize that too. Jungkook is the only one bringing a car of his type on the track after all- it's basically the talk of town every time he participates. He went from being a joke to a true competitor nowadays- finally being taken seriously on the tracks, and you know Jungkook relishes in the feeling of it.

He loves to win, after all. Even if it's just the respect of others.

Suddenly, something happens in the front. The toyota pushes too hard, too far to the side, and it breaks the current leader completely into the barriers as the car loses control, dragging several cars with him- And as your eyes search for the familiar red and black car with white font written all over it, you find it.

There's a lot of smoke, several cars unable to continue, a driver exits his own on the grassy spot in the middle, throwing his helmet in frustration. Jungkook's car is scratched, badly, a slight crack in front, but he's still driving- seemingly having escaped with nothing but some minor damage. He's slowed down just like everyone else now, entire track under major caution as the damage to a lot of other car's is being inspected, several people now left out with their cars damaged too hard to compete any longer.

Jungkook seems just a bit out of breath from the shock from what you can see on the screens, now in the pit box where tape is placed over a break in the front over the scratches, car being refueled and inspected just to make sure. He gives a thumbs up when asked if he's alright- a nod given to other questions. According to a commenter, he's asking for any serious injuries in other drivers- but there are none, so he's reassured that everyone's alright and up walking around.

Caution is lifted, green flag waved. The fight is back on, speed increasing as they once more go back full force, pushing and mixing up the order in which they're making their way towards the finish line.

It's the last stretch now, and things are getting clearly heated on the tracks. From clear pushing to forceful passing, scratches and bumps can probably be found on every car after this race is done. There's a fight happening now, and Jungkook is not backing down from anyone- now doubling down, and pressing himself towards the front. He's not as impolite as some other drivers further back, but he still bites, clearly so- currently passing another car, the white flag waved as he presses himself against his competitor.

One round left.

You can practically feel the tension now, pulse racing just as quickly as his car drives as he pushes himself further and further up front. He's in second place. That's most likely the spot he'll make.

Or?

It's almost in the last second it seems like when he manages to outrun the Chevrolet he's been pushing against next to- the black and white checkered flag waved, Jungkook's name being called as everyone cheers.

He made it. His team cheers- but you're frozen in time.

Because this is also a win for you, every singe time. Your prize is the fact that he's unscathed, that he's okay, that nothing happened. Fireworks light up the sky, when suddenly, he turns the car, covers the track in white smoke from his wheels, a full on spin one of his by now signature winning gestures.

His team runs towards him, pulls down the window gate to congratulate him as he climbs out, pulling his gloves off before he takes off his helmet and climbs on the roof of his car, clearly excited over the win. The interview is easy, as he answers questions thanks his team, before he becomes nervous, visibly, shaking his hands a little. "You still seem rather emotional from the race!" The interviewer jokes, and Jungkook nods, before he runs a hand over his face, bracing himself it seems like.

"Yeah that too, but uh- I made myself a little challenge too, you know?" He laughs. "I promised myself if I won this race, I'd.. do something I've been chickening out of for quite a while now." He explains, and you become a bit nervous now, unsure what he's trying to say. You're making your way down now to where his team is too, now closer and in sight as Jungkook grins to himself.. almost shy?

A member of his crew gives him something, and you become suspicious when he walks towards you now, because that stupid grin he has on his face just spells trouble in bold capital letters.

"You put up with so much shit, you know?" Jungkook tells you over the sound of people cheering and the commentator telling the crowd what's happening- everyone now curious. "You really do- and I don't think there's anyone out here in this world that can really love me like you do." He offers, and you laugh to yourself. "Don't laugh! I'm serious!" He complains, making some crewmembers laugh. "Either way, I might've won the race, but do you know what prize I'd really like instead?" He wonders, before he moves to drop to one knee.

"You, as my wife." He tells you, slightly dirty black box containing a ring.

And suddenly, the world seems to quiet down entirely as you nod, watching in fascination as he puts the ring on your finger in front of thousands.

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"Jungkook you're speeding!" You whine as he laughs in the driver's seat, sunglasses shielding his eyes from the weather.

"Babe I'm actually way below the limit, what're you talking about?" He chuckles, always a little amused by the irony of your fear of him driving- him, a professional racecar driver. "It's an RV, not a racecar. Relax a bit." He says, taking your hand to kiss the back of it before he continues to hold it.

He's taking some time off- spending a vacation in europe with you, having rented an RV for some quality camping that he's always wanted to do with you. Now that his relationship status had been officially upgraded so to speak, rumors have died down- the thrill seemingly left now that he's made it more than clear that he's taking it seriously with you, even though he always has.

"Still, can't you drive a bit slower?" You worry, and he shakes his head.

"No can do darling. But we only have half an hour to go anyways, so we're almost there." He tells you.

"Half an hour can feel like a lifetime though.." You pout quietly, and at that, he runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

"Were you scared when they all crashed?" He asks, and you nod.

"I searched for your car right away. You can't believe how I felt when I saw you come through that cloud of smoke and car-parts almost unharmed." You whine. "I hate that I'm always so scared. I don't want you to feel bad when you drive-" You worry, and he laughs.

"You're not making me feel bad, don't worry." He shakes his head. "I can understand how hard that must be to watch though. Just like I said, I'll never understand how you put up with me and my shit." He offers, and you shrug.

"I don't know either." You huff. "You constantly bully me." You complain.

"I don't bully you!" Jungkook argues scandalized.

"You constantly make fun of my height, and you laugh when I'm scared, and you slap my ass in front of everyone no matter who!" You say, and he shrugs.

"It's a nice ass, what can I say?" He defends himself, making you glare at him. "Hey come on, you can't possibly blame me, you slap my ass too!" He argues back to you.

"That's cause you deserve it!" You respond.

"And you don't?" He wonders.

"Absolutely not. I'm an angel!" You state, and he laughs theatrically.

"You might get down on your knees regularly but you're not a saint-" He jokes, making you roll your eyes. "-see? And a brat too.!" He teases.

"Yeah well if you're not nice to me I won't suck your dick for the entire trip." You threaten. "Not even once." You state, making him pout playfully.

"Not even the tip?"

"Won't even touch your balls." You respond, and he whines.

"Oh no! Anything but that!" He complains, finally driving towards the entrance of the camping spot. "What do I have to do to gain back the sacred touch of my soon-to-be-wife?" He asks, having parked the RV now, and taken off his glasses.

"..you can start by giving her a nice kiss." You tell him. "But a good one. With feelings and all- the whole menu." You demand, and at that he leans over the middle, careful not to touch anything and cause an accident, pulling you closer by your neck.

"Well-" He smiles warmly at you. "-that's easy."

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"So how have you always dealt with all the hate and rumors about you both? That must've been pressuring!" A paparazzi asks you as you stand right next to your by now husband, who's just made the second place in his latest race.

"Oh, I just look at him naked to remind myself why it's all worth it in the end!" You beam happily at them, Jungkook laughing loudly next to him.

Yeah- you're really one of a kind.

And he doesn't mind spending the rest of his life with you.

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#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

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bi-writes · 5 months

Text

it took the end of the world to bring you to where you were supposed to be. (18+, 5.5k words) ghost (+ johnny) x fem!reader (apocalypse au -> dark content ahead)

you know it is luck that you are still alive. in times of anarchy, it isn't the soft and weak hearts that remain. only the unfeeling stay alive. the ones that are willing to do what others are not. the lot that know what isolation feels like. the ones familiar with survival and everything that comes with the wounds it leaves behind.

the loneliness. the paranoia. the heat of hunger and the impossible itch of thirst, on top of the fact that running for your life is second nature to you now.

if it wasn't the sick and dead lurking in the shadows, it was the live ones that would take you. and you have seen what they can do, and you have watched what the opportunities of the unbecoming have given them, and you vow that you will kill yourself with your own dull army knife than let yourself succumb to that kind of death.

you'd rather be eaten alive by the things that don't understand than the ones that do, because they don't know any better, and the others do, and they know what they are doing isn't human, but they don't care.

whether they eat for survival, for pleasure, for power, it is becoming more and more difficult to discern between the sick and the healthy, and in that in-between, you've decided to be on your own.

you know the loneliness will eat at you from the inside. but you are comforted by the fact that you are not being eaten from the outside.

you sleep in the trees tonight. you climb, high enough to be out of sight, and then you use the rope in your pack to anchor yourself to the trunk. as soon as your head falls back, you fall asleep. you have been walking for days now, you think, and with nothing in your belly except for a few scavenged snacks, sleep comes easy.

when you wake up in the morning, you feel the crisp edge of the sky against your face, and you know it will rain soon.

if there is a god above, they will wash you away with it. you hope, at least. you don't know if this is how you imagined noah's ark--the cleansing of the earth, a flood great enough to wipe it of what they deem ugly and unimaginable and irredeemable. and god must be a man, because only a man would unleash something like this that comes with consequences he never intended--the fact that it didn't fucking work. in his effort to eradicate the fucked up pieces of shit he supposedly created by his own hand, he unleashed them.

he set them free.

and like a man, instead of fixing his fucking mistakes, he turns a blind eye. he forgets. he allows it to manifest, and now that it is out of control, he will blame the sins of what he's done on someone else, someone like you. the innocent. the unknowing. the small and the weak, the ones who he said would inherit the earth, where is he now that there is nothing to inherit? how come he's allowed to go back on his promises, and i'm not? what have i done so wrong that this is the lifetime you gave me?

you don't know why you care. you don't know why you've survived and why you keep trying to. you don't know what drives you forward, but there must be something. there has to be something waiting for you, because you don't think your life can fall any lower than this.

but fuck, there are other plans for you.

there's no one to hear you scream. they cut the branch, unravel the rope, and one of them has gotten ahold of your legs, and they're dragging you. you cry, you scream, you thrash, but all your clawing hands do is leave sporadic trails in the dirt. they laugh, you think, but you cannot hear them over the blood that rushes in your ears.

your nails are raw when they flip you over onto your back. they bleed from how you scratched to be let go, and you don't know why you fight this, but you just have this voice inside you that screams that this can't be how this ends. this can't be the way you go--this isn't the what you deserve, this isn't fair--

you vow to leave your mark. when they come closer, you don't let them come easy. you claw at their faces, rip out chunks of their hair, and when another comes close, you use your teeth, biting off chunks of their flesh, tasting blood, because i won't make it easy for you, i won't go silently, i'll leave you worse than you leave me, i'll take you with me if i fucking have to.

and when it stops, you sob. suddenly everything is still, and there are no hands on you anymore, and all you can see through the blood in your eyes is the sky above you, and how it is early morning, and there's a flock of birds passing by overhead. they fly peacefully. they have no idea what they're observing--the struggle of being alive, the humanity of your will to live, the defiance of dying at their hands, they have no idea that they are witnessing the death and rebirth of something fragile, something so delicate.

you sit up on your hands shakily, and you swallow hard as you look around. to your horror, your savior is a man.

bodies surround you. there's blood staining the dead leaves along the forest ground, trickling from sickening wounds in heads. in one hand, the man in front of you holds a dirty stone, large and jagged, and the sharp edge of it is darkened with red and drips on the tips of his boots. he has wild blue eyes, and while his hair is grown out, it is carefully cut along the sides. his dark hair falls in effortless curls along his forehead and at the base of his neck, and when he meets your eyes, he smiles, wickedly.

he wields other methods of killing people, but he chose a fucking rock. and you think he must be crazy.

you shake, and you find your balance, crawling back on your hands to get away from him, but you're only able to crawl a few feet before your back hits an imposing wall.

you gasp, jerking to the side, and you bow your head to cry when there is another man behind you. this one towers, broad and big, and he wears a sickening skull mask that shadows any human part of him. he might not even be human--maybe he's as dead as everyone else.

you hiss when your hair is pulled. crouching at your level now, the one that wears a real face stares down at you, still smiling. he's chuckling now, licking his lips, and you lean forward and spit at him. it lands on his cheek, a mess of saliva and blood, but his eyes seem to only sparkle. his smile widens.

"what do we have 'ere, LT?" he snickers, and you gather the saliva in your mouth and spit it at his feet this time. there's more of a mess of cartilage and blood and spit, but instead of disgusting him, he just grins up at the ghost behind you. "with a will ta live. ever seen anythin' like it?"

"she's dead fuckin' weight." even his voice has you shaking, low and gravelly, and you hold back a whine when you're let go of. the scottish one is yanked backwards by the scruff of his hair by his superior, who bends to growl in his ear. "she'll only hold us back. dunno why y'even had to intervene, she'll not make another fuckin' day."

"fuck you," you snap, wiping at your face with a trembling hand. you wipe at the tears under your eyes, coughing, and you stare back up at him. with the sun in his face, you can see his eyes. they are dark, and they are unforgiving.

he is one of the ones who is free. he is one of the ones that god intended to kill, and yet here he stands, stronger than ever. and even though you know he's a murderer, an undeserving, broken inside and scarred on the outside, he'll outlive you because he thrives in the anarchy of what is left behind, and you are consumed by it all.

"let's go, johnny," he spits, and you close your eyes. you don't know why you were spared your life. you don't know why luck has been on your side, you don't know why men are what punish you and save you, but you cannot escape them. they send you to slaughter, and then they pick you out of the pen, and you wish you had more control.

you want to be more than this. you want to be more than whatever it is you're made of. you are not meant to be here, you're not meant to be alive, but you are, and fuck, you're so tired of it.

johnny belongs to him. it's obvious, in the way that he lets that man pull on him and order him around, even if they are adorned in military fatigues. you imagine there is no authority anymore, but he listens to that beast anyway, because he's getting up onto his feet, letting it guide him away from you.

if you want to live, you'll have to tame that beast.

"i-i can be useful," you say softly. your eyes are wet and big, and you look up at them as they stand over you. johnny turns his head, looking at his handler, who tilts his head to the side and glares at you. he does not believe you, at least that's what it feels like, but you look right into his eyes and take a deep breath. "you'll just kill me if i'm not. w-what do you have to lose?"

the hum he lets out isn't an agreement, but he doesn't say no either. so when he turns to walk away, you stand, brush your bloodied jeans off, and you follow them. johnny trails, putting you between them. you're pretty, but he doesn't trust you yet, but you're also aware of the eyes you feel on you from behind. when you catch him staring at your ass, he doesn't pretend to look anywhere. he simply giggles.

they are a unit. they can speak without words. johnny tells you his handler's name is ghost. his lieutenant, a man of many talents, and you refrain from rolling your eyes at his sergeant's praise. but instead, you look up at him, and you smile, and you nod, and you give him those doe eyes that you can tell make him a little dizzy.

at night, they alternate keeping watch. they carry lots of gear, and while one guards in his sleep, the other stands in the shadows and keeps their head on a swivel. they take efficient rounds of sleep, getting their rest in while keeping their senses on alert. the first night, you aren't able to sleep. you are too afraid of johnny and how he smiles, because he's a dog, and you don't know when ghost will let go of his leash.

and you are too afraid of ghost, because he looks at you like he wants to kill you, and when he does, you'd like to look him in the eyes for it. you want him to know that you might not be strong like them, might not be the kind of survivors that they are, but you aren't a coward.

you aren't a man, and you'll die the way a woman should--with her fucking dignity.

the days pass easier. ghost hunts, and johnny cleans. ghost scavenges, and johnny kills. and when there is food, johnny feeds it to you, and you put on your best face, opening your mouth, letting him spoon you a mouthful of something that warms your belly. johnny eats your lies right up, but one look at ghost, and you know he sees right through you. with each lick of your finger, he snarls, and with each foot you step closer to johnny, he growls.

he doesn't believe you. you need to make him believe you.

you see your opportunity. it crawls towards him on soft hands, flesh spongy and quiet from the weeks of decay and rot. you see its mouth, black teeth sharp and ready to sink into the meat of his calf, and you lunge, pushing the vase off the table and watching the heavy clay fall until it squishes the head into a heap of rotten matter and dead meat.

ghost turns, looks down, and when he looks back up, he sees you gasping for breath, heaving. there's a desperation in your eyes. it trickles between panic and worry, and you don't know how it is you wear it so well, but it manifests into wet tears that gather at the corner of your eyes.

he's not a beast. he's just a man. and when he passes by you, he reaches up and grips your face hard, nearly shaking you, but it isn't like any other time he's touched you. he glares down at you, right into your eyes, and you melt, stepping just that much closer, sinking your nails into fabric of his tactical vest and gripping it tight.

i can be useful. it rings in his ears as he looks down at you, the burden he has been carrying with him, and suddenly he drags you that much closer, until your open mouth touches the front of his mask.

even your determined conscience can't stop your legs from squeezing together when you feel the warmth of his breath.

i can be useful. i can be useful. i can be useful.

you can be the thing that wakes what is dead inside of him. you can be the virus that infects his veins, the dagger straight through his heart, the heat of the sun, the thing that builds back up what he's buried so far down. johnny keeps him human, but you'll keep his blood pumping. johnny satisfies the itch of authority that ghost needs to keep, but you challenge the fire he keeps under his tongue, and fuck, those eyes.

you pretend with johnny. you play the damsel in distress. you fawn, let him coo over your soft eyes, keen at his touch, but it is a game you play, and he sees it, he sees it, but this time, it doesn't make him angry, and he likes it, and fuck, have you always been this pretty?

you swallow your smile. his grips tightens, and you know you have him.

he's yours. and he's going to keep you. the world ends, god doesn't answer your prayers, the salt of the earth runs free, but it doesn't have to be the end for you. you will learn the hymn of what makes monsters move, and you will sing that song until you can't sing anymore.

you will learn their language, and you will convince them of what you are not, and keep what you really are a secret.

the good, the easy, the soft, you'll keep it inside, because that isn't who lives at the end of the world--it's ghosts that remain, and this one belongs to you.

this one belongs to me, this one is mine, this one you can't fucking have.

and maybe it's selfish. maybe it's wrong to think this way, to take from your saviors this way, because that is what they did, they did save you, but this is the only way you can make sure you make it out of here, that you live. a man takes, and a woman gives, but wouldn't it be nice if it wasn't always this way?

because the dead are still moving now, and there isn't humanity in the living; this is what you are owed.

you think it will be difficult to pretend. when it is night again, and you are staring up at the blue of johnny's eyes, you think it will be difficult, but it isn't. despite what you know he doesn't have, even though you know there isn't anything good in him, he still smiles, and he's so pretty, and you let him kiss you.

it's easy because he's warm. his voice low, his breaths heavy, and it feels like love, and it isn't hard to imagine yourself somewhere else. in another place, meeting him in another time, falling in love with him because it is the only thing you really have to worry about. if you lived another life, you wonder if you still end up here.

you wonder if he would eat your cunt this way in that other place. like he'll never have it again. if he's just as aggressive, spreading your thighs, trapping himself between them, slurping at your folds until you are nothing but a wet, leaking mess underneath him. you wonder if he would groan the way he does, gripping you tight enough to bruise, taking his fill because everything that begins has to end, but maybe if i keep making her see fucking stars, she'll let me stay here forever--

johnny's so much easier to control when he's pussy drunk. anything you whisper in his ear, he just nods, licking into your mouth, mumbling incoherently. he'll say yes to anything you say, and when the gruff call of his name pulls him away from you, he struggles to leave. it isn't obvious, the power you have over him, not to him at least. but it's real, and because he watches you even as he goes, you know he'll do anything for you.

he'll do anything for me. he'll live for me. he'll kill for me. but will he do it even if ghost tells him not to?

because that is the only question that matters. if you and ghost stand on either side of him, who will he go to when his name is called?

if i call both of their names, will they come to me?

if he calls my name, will i come to him? am i just the same? do i wear the collar, am i the puppy, is it me that fell and not the men i hate so much? how do i tell the difference between what the fuck is real and what isn't?

you don't know what time it is. it's dark outside, it must be the middle of the night, but you can make out ghost's silhouette in the doorway. you've been holed up here for some days, and he takes turns with johnny covering the perimeter. your legs are tired, and so are they, and the bed in this house gives way to a comfort and peace that you haven't felt in a long time.

you tilt your head to the side as you watch him there. you sit up, your hair falling around you, and you watch the shadow of him shift in the hallway there.

"scared of the dark, ghost?" you ask softly, and the way he stills tells you he didn't realize you could see him. he steps into the room, and the candle that flickers in the corner deepens the shadows that dance along his masked face.

"nothin' scares me," he murmurs, and you find his eyes in the dark. it unnerves you every time you stare at one another--his gaze is always so intense. he always looks in between all the layers you hide, and it's hard to remember what you are doing here when he looks at you this way.

"i don't believe that," you counter, and he narrows his eyes, shuffling closer, and you tilt your head back to look up at him. "you're terrified."

"not of wot y'think," he pushes back, but you shake your head.

"don't lie, simon," you whisper, and at the sound of his name, he reaches for your face--cups the underside of your jaw, grips the base of your throat, bends down to growl against the skin of your cheek. "are you jealous? is that what it is?"

"of wot?" he mutters, and you hold your breath when he grips your neck firmly. "of m'pet 'n his little lamb?"

"yes."

"nothin' to be fuckin' jealous of," he laughs, but it holds no humor. "what's his is mine."

"says who?" you breathe, and he pulls back to look at you again. there it is--the thing in your eyes that he cannot escape. he doesn't know what it is, but there is something there, and he craves it. he wants it more than anything else--more than food, than water, than survival, he wants to have it, to own it, to command whatever it is there because it's what he thinks he deserves.

he saved your fucking life, and this is the price for it--he gets to have the thing that lives in you that makes his fucking head spin, and you will give it to him, so help him god.

you kiss soft. he hasn't taken his mask off in a long while, but you move it up easily and without resistance, and now you're kissing him, and he moves without thinking. he hasn't even let johnny this close--he hasn't let him underneath his skin, not this way, and here you are, sighing against the scars he wears and kissing them anyways.

the ugly and the irredeemable, that is the skin he wears, and you love it anyways, and the ringing he always hears is gone because you don't seem to care. you caress his face, and you tug on the front of his vest, and then he is with you, and--he doesn't know if this is real.

when you pull away to look at him, his eyes flutter open. you don't say anything as you climb into his lap. the look you share, you don't know how to explain it, but you are almost afraid that it is understanding.

because it's the end of the fucking world, and he isn't capable of love, and you are only here to survive, and yet there is something here that you can't explain. god isn't real, he's just a man, but you think for a moment that that man might be simon riley because what the fuck is happening to me?

"simon--"

he kisses you this time. hungry, all-consuming. if there is anything you've learned about him in the weeks you've spent beside him, it's that he does everything with purpose or not at all. he has a will, a will of what you don't know, but of something, and he does everything with his entire chest. you've heard him talk to johnny when they think you're asleep, the pillow talk that you aren't supposed to be privy to, and suddenly you wonder if this is what johnny feels like--like the only person left in the entire world. because to matter to someone like lieutenant simon riley means you must've done something right, because he doesn't care about anything, and he doesn't love anyone, and--fuck.

he fucks like it, too. he fucks like he won't live another day, and maybe he won't. he fucks like it's the last time he'll ever see you, and it could be, and maybe that's why you're crying. you're sweaty, naked under him, and he can't stop kissing you. he breathes you in and swallows your breaths like it's what keeps him alive, and maybe it does.

"simon--" you cry, because it feels good, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck. your hand rises, slipping under the mask, and your nails scratch over his shaved head underneath. god, it feels sacrilegious to feel him this way, to know what's under it, but it doesn't matter.

"know wot y'r doin'," he hums, and you claw at his back when he slows down. your knees try to widen to accommodate the width of him, and he puts two big hands on your thighs and pushes, nestling himself deep and pressing himself right up against your pelvis. "know y'r playin' tricks on johnny, on me--" you cry, and he tsks, shaking his head, "'s pathetic, luv...thinkin' y'could fool us both."

"i-i--"

a particularly rough thrust shuts you up, and you arch your back, pebbled nipples hard against the warmth of his chest as he chuckles, laughing at you, so mean.

he leans down, and all you can do is whine as he mutters into your ear. "johnny's so fuckin' distracted by y'r cunny, swee'eart. and fuck, i get it, 's such a sweet pussy, luv--" you whimper, grinding up against him, needing him to move, but he puts both hands on your hips and squeezes, holding you still. "--such a nice cunt, make a bloke forget all his fuckin' troubles, but i know--"

you yelp when he reaches up and grabs your face. his palm cradles the lower half of your face, squeezing your jaw, and he squeezes your cheeks as he looks down at you and snarls.

"i know wot y'are. wot y'r here for."

"you--" you sob. "'m here for you--"

"can lie to johnny all y'like, luv, but don't you ever--" you whine as he shakes you gently, "--don't y'ever fuckin' lie to me. y'r usin' us. known since we found ya."

you let out an exhale, a deep one. you find his eyes, and he looks down at you, and you swallow hard. because it's true, in a lot of ways--you could never love them, right? this could never be a real thing. the only men that are left are god's mistakes. when man broke off his rib to make a woman, he didn't know a beast like this would come from him someday, did he?

did he know his sons would try to kill each other? in each and every generation? is he watching the dead roam the earth and wondering why those ones died and ones like this one are still living and breathing?

the thing that you don't understand yet is that nothing will kill ghost. his father couldn't kill him, the dark couldn't kill him, the earth he was buried in couldn't kill him, and every bullet that scarred him had missed the vulnerable places of him by just that much. the virus couldn't kill him, and he has an inkling that even if he was bitten, somehow, he would still live because that's his fucking fate.

his fate is to live, to endure, to grieve, no matter what happens around him. the world collapses, and he watches, and he picks up pieces as he goes hoping they will last, but he knows they won't.

he doesn't know how johnny will die, but he will. he doesn't know how you will die, but you will, and he'll be there to watch. for some reason, there's a little comfort, because at least this means they won't be alone. johnny wouldn't handle being alone well, and neither would you, because johnny is a mutt, and you are a leech, and neither survive without a keeper and a host, something else to keep them alive.

"'s olright," he licks over your bottom lip. "'m keepin' you, luv. but let's get one thing straight, aye?" you grunt when he turns you roughly under him, forcing your face into the mattress and caging you underneath him. you can't move much, all you really can do is sit up on your knees a little and push back against him, burying him deep inside you again as he presses his hips flush against your ass. he tangles his hand into your hair, pulling your head back, and he plants a chaste kiss against your throat. "y'r not above me, pet. you can order around m'mutt all y'like. bet he'll like that..." you hum when he cants your hips, the tip of his cock hitting a nice, warm place inside you, "but y'r gonna do as i say. and be a good girl."

you open your eyes, looking up at him over your shoulder. you plant your palms against the mattress and push back against him again, moving just enough to encourage a few slow, wet grinds.

"anything you want, simon," you whisper, pressing your face into his neck, and he grunts as his hand disappears underneath you to cup your mound, hissing as he feels the place where his cock is moving inside you. "can have whatever you want, please--" you whine in his ear. "i won't lie to you! i-i...i won't lie..."

with his other hand, he cups your breast, squeezing, his thumb circling your nipple before he tugs on it gently.

"gonna be a good girl?" he asks. "gonna let johnny fuck ya? let my mutt have his fill?"

you nod, panting.

"are--" you sniffle. "--are you gonna take care of me?"

ghost laughs, as if it's a stupid question. he maneuvers you onto your knees, and as you start to push back against him more eagerly, you start to hear the jangle of the dog tags he wears. you want to turn around and pull on them, want to see his face when he comes, but you tell yourself that's for another time--that right now, you need to get him cumming and agreeable.

he leans over you, picking up the pace, punching his hips into your ass. the sound of your skin against his is wet and quick, and as you press your chest into the mattress, he starts hitting you so deep, the air feels tight in your chest.

"need to see you--!" you gasp, and when you're on your back again, you grab for his face. your knees spread again, welcoming him deep, and you force his eyes to stay on yours as you feel the rough grind of his hips starting to build up that sweet, soft feeling in you.

fuck--he's so big. every part of him, it swallows you, and this isn't any different. you come when you feel him, so much of it that it's leaking down your thighs because he stuffs you so full, and there's tears in your eyes, but he isn't sorry.

looking at him this way is jarring. you have really only ever seen his eyes incredibly dull, nothing in them except a void that you aren't able to understand. but you are using him, and he is using you, and you smile, because now you can read him, read what's reflected there.

when ghost shoves his cum-soaked fingers into your mouth, you don't fight it. you keen, arching your back as you let your tongue swirl around his thick fingers, and he tilts his head to the side as he watches you. he's making sure you're doing as he wants. he's making sure that you will be pliant and good, that you will do as you are told and nothing else because that is what he asks of you.

he's making sure that even though he knows you are not the submissive puppy you pretend to be, that you will be it anyways because if you don't, you won't like how he bites.

you and ghost are the same. you are equals, even if he will never admit it. you trade different parts of yourself, but this isn't about preservation, it's about survival, and you are willing to give yourself for it. you are willing to say yes, ghost, of course, whatever you want, because you aren't supposed to be alive anyways, but you might just have a chance if you hide in his shadow.

you're still on the bed when he dresses himself. he straps his vest back on, zips his pants, and you watch him lick his fingers clean before putting his gloves back on. you reach down, your mouth falling open when a glob of his cum slips out and dampens the sheets, and ghost has a hint of a smirk on before he rolls the mask back down.

"don' worry, luv," he mutters, reaching over and gripping your jaw rough. you pucker your lips, and he snickers. "soap'll fix you right up."

"soap?"

"mmm. the fuckin' thing is useless unless there's a mess to clean up, yeah?"

will you take care of me? will he take care of me when it's time? will he keep the dead out of my eyes and my blood inside?

he never answers your question. and deep down, you're certain it's because he would kill you, and maybe johnny would, too, because johnny does whatever he says, even if it isn't good for him. and you aren't sure if it's because this is his lieutenant or because saying yes is the only thing that make's sense anymore.

i can be useful. i can be useful. i can be useful.

when you are not useful anymore, you'll need to be the first to strike then. because maybe you don't deserve to live, but neither do they. god is a man, and he makes mistakes, and ghost is one of them, and he's eaten johnny's soul, and if you go down, you will take them with you.

god is a man, and he was a fool to think he could've cleansed the earth by himself.

it was the flood that cleansed it the first time, and mother nature always does her fucking job.

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pascaloverx · 1 month

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BORN TO DIE

Summary: In a tense political setting, a Targaryen bastard working as a prostitute is summoned by Prince Aemond to the Red Keep. Aemond wants her to approach his dragon, Vhagar, as a test of her worth. Although he plans for her to claim another dragon in the future, her immediate challenge is to survive Prince Aemond demands while trying to stay alive.

Author’s Note: This work is set in the world created by George R.R. Martin, as depicted in his book Fire & Blood, and none of the characters belong to me. The story will follow some events from the series House of the Dragon (2022), but with changes to fit the fanfiction narrative. Therefore, it will not adhere strictly to the series' storyline. This fanfiction is a work of fiction and may contain inappropriate language, adult content, and violence. Readers be warned. I hope you enjoy the story and interact with it. I apologize if there are any errors in the High Valyrian sections; I used a translator and am unsure of its accuracy. Thank you and happy reading.

AO3 LINK ONE

PREVIEW

Walking through King's Landing is exhausting. Your life as a bastard has not been easy, especially with the struggle for the Iron Throne. Unsure of which direction to take, you have tried to be invisible to the Targaryens while working in a brothel to survive. This morning, you were summoned by a royal messenger on behalf of King Aegon II. You thought it was a joke, but soon realized you really had to go to the Red Keep. You are taken to whoever summoned you like a little mouse sneaking through the sewers until you reach the surface. Perhaps they don't want to publicize that a prostitute is being brought in for a private conversation with the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.

"I heard that my presence here had been requested. But I didn't imagine I would be summoned by Prince Aemond," you say as you enter the room indicated by the messenger and come face to face with Aemond One-Eye. He looks a bit more intimidating in person, but in a way, it's not a bad kind of intimidating. Just surprising.

"Ao kostagon enter, bastard." Prince Aemond commands with a certain skill. But you are somewhat worried that he might know you are a Targaryen bastard. So pretending to be oblivious seems to be the wisest course of action for now.

"This is a lovely place. An extremely enchanting castle. However, if you summoned me here for a conversation in another language, I will be a nuisance to Your Highness. Since your request for my presence proves ineffective, perhaps I should leave immediately," you say, trying not to show any hint of fear. You are a prostitute, accustomed to pretending all sorts of things. As you hesitantly move toward the exit of the room, where you are alone with the Prince, he doesn't seem to fall for your ruse. He throws a dagger in your direction, which grazes the corner of your cheek before embedding itself in the door, which is closed.

"Do you intend to waste our time here? I know you speak High Valyrian, and honestly, I’m hating your attempt to deceive me, gundjabo." He speaks while watching you turn, somewhat irritated by his actions. However, the One-Eyed Prince seems very proud of his deed. He is speaking in High Valyrian to you, probably to test you, but you feel that if you do not meet his expectations, the dagger will find its final mark and you will die.

"If you know that I can speak and understand what you are saying in High Valyrian, Your Highness, tell me, what use would a prostitute be to you? Do you, by any chance, have some secret desire in your chambers that requires a different language?" You might lose your tongue for speaking this way to the Prince Regent, but anger got the better of your temper, causing you to suggest that he brought you to the Red Keep to exchange heated vows in High Valyrian, which is nothing but folly.

"Your mouth would be much better sealed forever. But I need you for a mission, so for once, be less of a deceitful prostitute and serve your King," Prince Aemond says as he moves across the room, seemingly trying to reach you. You, however, despite your nerves, manage to grasp the dagger embedded in the door. Now, he stands just a few steps away from you, while you hold the dagger that could have gravely wounded you.

"I think this is yours, Your Highness." Your eyes meet the Prince's gaze. One eye reveals a hint of surprise, perhaps even pride, confirming that you can speak High Valyrian. The other eye, covered forever, conceals something deeper—perhaps resentment, perhaps fear. He approaches slowly, as if analyzing your behavior; likely wary of being harmed. But swiftly, his hand moves over yours, pulling the dagger from your grip and into his own.

"Follow me," is all he says as he sheathes the dagger somewhere in his attire and opens the door. You don’t fully understand his intent, but you know you don’t want to provoke Prince Aemond's wrath. At least not in this way. You follow him quickly, while the Prince seems to be almost racing toward one of the castle’s exits. He mounts a horse with enviable precision. You watch him, still unsure of your role in his sudden departure from the castle. He adjusts his long hair and then extends a hand toward you. You stare at him for three seconds before hearing him grunt in your direction. Seemingly as impatient as possible, he nearly falls off the horse while trying to grasp your arm, but he manages to hold onto it after the first attempt—holding your arm, not falling off the horse.

"Where are we going, Your Highness?" you ask, feeling your hair whip in the wind, as you notice a few people—probably servants of King Aegon II—passing by as if you’re inconsequential. Another grunt from Prince Aemond makes it clear that if you don’t get on the horse, you might be risking your well-being.

"I intend to test you before revealing your purpose. Now I suggest you come with me, or I’ll be forced to find another bastard to replace you and order your death." Prince Aemond seems astonished by your reluctance, forcing you to follow his commands. But really, there’s no other option. You leap toward him, being propelled onto the back of his horse. He begins to gallop with astonishing speed, so fast that you’re compelled to wrap your arms around his waist. He gives a slight turn of his head, looking in your direction, which startles you and almost makes you fall off the horse. However, this seems to amuse Prince Aemond. Before you can react, it seems you’re arriving at a location. A place certainly surrounded by nature, which gives you a comforting feeling despite the unknown. That is, of course, until you notice a massive dragon ahead. He brought you here to become dragon food.

"As flattered as I am by the importance you place on feeding your dragon well, I must say that a prostitute who speaks High Valyrian will not be any more special than any other meal given to your dragon," you say as you dismount the horse, struggling a bit. Prince Aemond is too absorbed in admiring his dragon to notice your struggle to get off the horse.

"Vhagar is a female dragon. And keep your mouth shut for a moment. You’ll soon understand your purpose here," Prince Aemond says, drawing closer to Vhagar. She, with her head lowered, lifts it from amidst some branches and foliage to see who is approaching.

"She is quite impressive. But I don’t understand why I was brought here, Prince Aemond. Is there a reason I need to meet your dragon?" you say as you follow the Prince toward the dragon. Vhagar emits a somewhat shrill noise, making you stop for a moment to look at her.

"I’ve heard that my sister plans to raise an army of bastards. I thought I might at least try to have one bastard on my side. There is a dragon, which has been confirmed to be available to be claimed. I want you to claim it for me and fight alongside your King." Prince Aemond speaks with vigor, as if discussing a great triumph that is to come. You look at him reluctantly, struggling to accept such an absurd proposal.

"You brought me here to force me to interact with your dragon. So if I don’t pass this test, I’ll be eliminated one way or another," you say, looking at Prince Aemond with some anger. He remains indifferent to whether you live or die. He just wants to ensure that he isn’t wasting his time chasing an illusion.

"I'm glad you're not as stupid as you seem. Now, stop wasting our time and go on," he says, as impatient as ever, stopping midway between you and Vhagar. You let out a nervous laugh, not quite believing that this is how you're going to meet your end.

"Likyri, ȳdra daor sagon zūgagon." You speak with a certain precision as you approach Vhagar. It’s not as if your job is to claim her. But if she accepts you, you might be able to prove useful to the Prince. And if you’re useful to him, you’ll be useful to the King. You move your hand forward to signal Vhagar that you are there. You are a nobody to her, but you appear alongside her rider. You look into her eyes, trying to stay steady as the dragon raises part of her body in your direction. She seems to be still assessing who or what you are.

"Gīda, Vhagar. Ao ȳdra daor jorrāelagon naejot zūgagon nyke." You try to calm her, speaking in High Valyrian or at least the most you’ve learned. You’re somewhat terrified when you notice that your hand is on Vhagar. It seems she has allowed you to touch her, perhaps mistaking you for a previous rider. The reasons for the dragon allowing your touch may not be particularly relevant. What matters is that now you’re at risk of becoming dragon food, as Prince Aemond certainly seems very enthusiastic about the fact that you’ve touched, and are still touching, his dragon.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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iimr3 · 4 months

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reasons why (in my opinion) the try guys hit the nail on the head with forming a subscription service where watcher fumbled:

try guys has already been making TV-caliber content for a while. without a recipe and phoning it in both feel like professional cooking shows, and the fact that they have actual celebrity guests adds to that. their audience is extremely familiar with them having this huge set and a ton of employees working to produce the videos they love. on top of that, they've been around longer. they mention at the beginning of the announcement they've been on YouTube for ten years, & dropout/CH similarly had been around for a while when it's streaming service dropped. try guys just always felt more professional & as a fan you immediately understand why they would need more money

(edit) also, they have formed an emotional connection between the audience and their employees! people love rachel & know how hard she works & want to see her get paid well for that work. not that the watcher team don't deserve that, but their audience is way less emotionally invested in their employees' wellbeings than with the try guys audience & their non-talent team (& I say this as a fan & regular viewer of both channels).

try guys already had experience with paid content that went over really well with their audience. their live shows proved that their audience was willing to pay a decent amount every once in a while for something cool, and they proved that they would actually provide something cool for that money. people pointed out how watcher neglected their patreon; the try guys made very good use of their live shows imo. and as a result, they are able to say "you'll get free tickets to the live shows!" which is a really good perk if you are someone who enjoys those. instead of paying $20 every once in a while for one live show, you can pay 5$ for free live shows and early content and exclusive new content.

plus, they also reveal their expanded cast, which is something all of their fans have been wondering about for over a year. it's not just keith and zach you get to see, but all of these people their audience now loves and is always talking about wanting to join the try guys officially. collectively the try guys announcement feels more positive in multiple senses, both in emotional vibe and in what the audience is getting out of this.

also: no one can say for certain whether or not they decided to keep posting on YT after the watcher debacle, but I'm gonna give them the benefit of the doubt & believe that they always intended to stay on YouTube. it makes sense as a business decision & it's clear they've been working on this for some time (despite what some people seem to think??). tbh I don't think they were trying to be cruel to watcher in their announcement, I think they just saw that shitstorm and understood they needed to make it clear to their audience that they are not making the same mistakes. EDIT: in the most recent trypod, zach confirmed that they have been planning to 1) create a streaming service 2) keep posting content free on YouTube since 2023. so, no, they did not create 2nd Try or decide to stay on YouTube because of Watcher. stop trying to manufacture drama.

also also: they have, especially in the trypod, been very candid about their struggles with the algorithm and appealing to youtube's demands for content. in one episode I remember them talking about how they wanted to reject the "constant expansion" mindset, placing more focus on what their existing audience wants rather than trying to constantly get new people. they have been open about how certain things they want to do are not viable because of monetization issues; smoke show is a recent example of this.

another edit: also in the recent episode of the trypod, Zach says that they reached out to Sam Reich of Dropout for tips on starting a streaming service & things to avoid. we have no way of telling if Watcher did this, but I wouldn't be surprised if that was also key in why they turned out differently.

tl;dr i think it comes down to what was presented (not leaving youtube, new content that wouldn't be allowed on youtube, free live shows, new cast), how it was presented (shorter video, focus on the excitement & positives, show of respect to those who can't afford the price), and the context surrounding it (being older, a reputation for more professional content, having prepared their audience for a big shift, having previously discussed issues with youtube and their content)

#op #try guys #ty to everyone who follows me who puts up with my buzzfeed alumni obsessions

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flowerandblood · 6 months

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The Knight & The Judge Epilogue

[ modern Frollo • Aemond x Esmeralda • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, handjob, smut, angst, description of physical and mental disabilities, swearing, mention of sexual assault, an accident with fatalities and trauma ]

[ description: A few months pass since the events that changed his life, and his Esmeralda, despite her earlier decisions, chooses to continue taking care of Daeron. Aemond attends therapy, his condition improves and their bond gives him strength, still, however, he does not know, despite how much he loves her, what their relationship is. Obsession, self-destructive behavior, sexual tension, pathetic, devastated Aemond. ]

Author’s note: This story is a request, but I decided to freely use what I liked in the book and Disney film to create a new, disturbing story taking place in modern times. It is intended to be uncomfortable and will contain scenes that are at least morally questionable, in my version “Esmeralda” is not Romanian. This story will also include motifs from Jane Eyre, which was a separate request. My story will also touch on the problems of people with disabilities, so if these are sensitive topics for you, I advise against reading further. You have been warned.

Part 1 − The Knight & The Judge Part 2 − The Sin & The Penance Part 3 − The Doubt & The Delight

Main Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

He had to clench his lips to keep anything more than grunts from coming out of them as he watched how, with quick, sure thrusts of his hips, he spread her slick folds wide open on his fat cock with loud slaps of skin against skin, his palms digging into the wonderfully soft structure of her hot buttocks, feeling her throbbing around him faster and faster.

He sighed when she cried out loudly as he added his hand between her thighs, his fingers finding her puffy clit, sore from previous caresses of his tongue − although they both tried not to make any noise knowing that Daeron was watching a movie downstairs, the treatments of his fingertips caused an involuntary whimper of delight to come from her lips.

"− no, baby − quiet − shhh, I know, we're almost there −" He murmured tenderly, leaning down, his hand sinking into her soft dark hair, pressing her face against the pillow, careful not to make it hard for her to breathe, wanting to muffle her moans.

"− grab my hand if you want me to stop −" He breathed out, quickening his pace, pounding into her so fast that he tilted his head back in pleasure, but her hand did not grab his wrist, her fingers tightened on the pillow on either side of her head instead, her fleshy walls began to clench around his cock in orgasm, sucking him inside, he felt her moisture begin to run down his thighs with her helpless whine of relief.

"− thaat's it − thaat's it, babygirl − fuck −" He mumbled as he let go at last, panting hard, feeling his warm seed spill deep inside her − for a moment his mind was stunned with pleasure, his body trembled from the hot sensation that flowed in waves through his body, his hand let go of her hair and she turned her head to the side, breathing loudly.

"− are you all right? − I'm sorry, he really could hear us −" He whispered, leaning lower, laying on top of her gently, placing a tender, warm, wet kiss on her neck, stroking her bare shoulder with his broad hand.

"− I know − it's me who's sorry −" She muttered. He let his breath out loudly with a smirk, shaking his head, sinking his face into her fragrant hair.

"− do you need anything? − can we stay like this for a while? −" He asked, not wanting to slip out of her yet, just dreaming of taking a nap cuddled up against her naked body, missing her so much for the two days she hadn't been home with them.

"− yes − but we shouldn't leave him alone for too long −" She whispered, and he hummed under his breath, agreeing with her.

"− will you stay overnight? −" He asked quietly, running his fingers up and down her naked body, feeling goosebumps appear in the places he touched.

"− yes −"

They returned to Dareon after several minutes, his younger brother accustomed to them disappearing occasionally to talk, watching quietly with contentment his favourite part of Star Wars.

"Have you discussed everything yet?" He asked lightly, putting his hand to the rustling popcorn, trying to get a full handful of it into his mouth, glancing at them out of the corner of his eye. He chuckled, sitting down next to him on the couch, watching his Esmeralda went to pour herself some water dressed in his black T-shirt and shorts.

He loved this view.

He scratched his cheek with his thumb trying not to think about the fact that at the mere memory of what he was doing to her just now he felt like taking her upstairs again.

"Yeah, buddy. All set." He grumbled, spreading himself out comfortably and sighing quietly, exhausted − their gazes met as she raised a glass of water to her lips and lowered her gaze, embarrassed and insecure. He swallowed loudly at the sight, feeling a squeeze in his heart.

It seemed to him that something was going on with her lately − she was sadder than usual and drifted away with her thoughts. On top of that, recently she was the one who had been grabbing his hand and guiding it between her thighs, demanding his caresses. There was something desperate about it and although he had asked her many times if everything was okay, she always answered him that it was.

He knew he had no right to ask her anything.

They were not together and he would never have dared to suggest it, fearing rejection.

He kept telling her how much he loved her and he could see in her gaze, feel in her embrace and in the touch of her hand that she also had feelings for him, albeit complicated and painful ones.

His prosecutorial nature insisted in his mind that he should start investigating, that he should start following her, that perhaps someone was nagging her, her professor or a colleague, but fearing his intervention she did not want to tell him anything.

He knew, however, that if she found out he was doing something behind her back she would not forgive him.

He couldn't help himself however − one day, while she and Daeron were sitting on the patio talking to each other by the sliding glass door, he went out to prepare the meat they were going to grill for lunch, according to their plan spending the afternoon in the garden. He came back because he had forgotten the tray, but stopped at the wall when he heard the question Daeron had asked her.

"Have you forgiven my brother? For what he did to you back then." He asked uncertainly. He heard her shift restlessly in her wicker chair, probably looking away to see if he was anywhere near them. She sighed quietly.

"I've done him wrong too. He's trying really hard. I know he's not like that every day. That I'm important to him and that he really cares about me." She said softly, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke the words.

He closed his eyes, feeling a tightness in his throat, swallowing with difficulty at the thought that he felt pain and relief at the same time, that she recognised his efforts, that she knew he wasn't lying when he spoke about how much he cared for her.

"I've been thinking about it a lot. About why he hurt you. And I think he did because he never shouted at me. He never got angry with me even when I cried for hours. I think if he shouted at you then or hit you it was because he missed our mum and dad too. Because he couldn't cope with it and our eldest brother didn't take care of him like he did me.

Before you showed up on the first day he was very afraid that you would be late or not come. That he would leave me with you and you would hurt me. I remember his hands were shaking when he had his coffee in the morning. He told me not to trust you and that if you just did something I didn't like, I should call him. I think it was all because I wanted to dance."

His brother muttered, and he just stood there stunned with his mouth wide open, breathing hard, feeling tears burning under his eyelids at the thought that he thought he was hiding everything that was going on inside him well, and Daeron had seen it all anyway, but as a child he couldn't comprehend what was really happening to him.

I think if he shouted at you then or hit you it was because he missed our mum and dad too.

He covered his face with his hand, stifling a sob at the thought that he thought he had just shouted at her or hit her, that he hadn't even assumed what had really happened between them.

He was horrified at how long she had not responded, and once he heard her voice he felt a piercing pain in his lower abdomen at the thought that she was crying too, unable to catch her breath.

"I...Daeron, this had and has nothing, nothing to do with you. This is our adult business, okay? It's very complicated." She muttered wearily, and he swallowed heavily, trying to calm his ragged breathing, clenching his eyelids tightly.

Whatever he would do, it would always come back to them.

"I heard him tell you he loved you. I know he said it to you because when I knocked on his room he said he was talking to you on the phone." Said his younger brother, clearly trying to get to the point of starting this whole conversation and topic at all.

"Are you two going to be together?"

Silence.

Never before in his life had he been so afraid, never had he suffered so much, never had he felt so alone and desperate as when he waited for her answer.

"Don't you love him?" Daeron asked quietly after a moment, as if he was afraid his brother would accidentally hear them. "You can tell me, it's not a bad thing. I'll keep a secret."

He heard her sobbing, heard her uneven, loud breathing, the fact that she was falling apart, that he was the cause of her eternal heartbreak and suffering.

"I'm afraid to be with him. I'm afraid to name it. As long as I don't agree, he can't hit me again and yell at me. The distance makes me feel like I'm in control of the situation, that I can disappear at any time and not explain myself. That it won't hurt me when I bore him. Do you understand?" She asked him quietly, his brother swallowed loudly.

"Are you afraid of my brother?" He whispered frightened, heard her draw in the air loudly, sniffling.

"I'm scared of what he's doing to me. I think I'm getting addicted to him, like people get addicted to alcohol or drugs." She muttered, and he took a few steps back, feeling tear after tear run down his face.

He didn't run when he heard her rise from her seat as she entered the house, clearly wanting to go quickly to the bathroom − she jumped when she spotted him standing against the wall, her eyes and mouth wide open in disbelief and horror.

"− Aemond −" She mumbled, and he swallowed loudly and grunted, walking over to the countertop, getting back to work.

"The meat will be ready soon."

He heard her stand still, her breathing loud, unsure of what to do, understanding perfectly well that he'd heard everything they'd said.

She didn't love him.

She was just addicted to him.

He thought dispassionately that he was like a stimulant that was destroying her life, not allowing her to live in another healthy relationship.

He heard her moving ahead after a while, locking herself in the toilet, heard her loud sobbing, his palms shaking all over as he cut the meat, tears one by one dripping onto the wooden board beneath his hands.

They spent the evening as they had planned, pretending nothing had happened, Daeron telling them about a new game he really wanted to play and a new cartoon he was watching.

In the night he locked himself sooner in his bedroom, feeling that he couldn't be around her, remorse and self-pity prevented him from breathing or functioning.

He shuddered, feeling the quick pounding of his heart as he heard the quiet creak of his door as usual an hour later − he heard her footsteps, felt her body lay behind him on his bed, sliding up over his duvet, felt her hand on his stomach.

He clenched his eyelids as his cock immediately twitched aggressively in this trousers, all swollen.

They lay like that for a while − he could feel her warm breath on his neck, her breasts hidden behind his Tshirt snuggled into his back, her fingers trailing from his sternum to his lower abdomen making shivers run through him.

He found with despair that he had become achingly hard from just her closeness.

"− I'm sorry −" She whispered finally; he shuddered all over and swallowed quietly as her soft, warm lips placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder. "− I didn't mean it −"

He did not reply.

He heard her trembling sigh, her body nestled into his from behind, the way he always used to do.

He felt a single, lonely tear run down the side of his face onto the pillow.

All he was able to manage was to breathe, his heart pounding like mad.

"− you have taken deep root in my heart − you grow in it like an oak tree in my garden full of flowers − and even though I did not want it, I have found cooling in its shade, shelter from the rain under its leaves, from its wood things are made that last −" She whispered and he felt his whole body tremble.

He imagined her, her flower garden and himself.

A great, spreading tree.

"− this is not what my garden was supposed to be − I only wanted flowers in it − but now, when I look at this tree from the window of my house, at its thick trunk, its green, beautiful leaves in summer, yellow and red in autumn, I am glad that I let it grow −" She said softly, her lips again placed a kiss on his neck as her hand slid lower. A broken, helpless moan broke from his throat as he felt her fingers tighten on his swollen, aching manhood, squeezing him with sure up and down strokes.

"− I − mghmm −" He mumbled out, horrified by how pleasurable this was, by the fact that this might be the last time he would see her, by the fact that he no longer knew himself what she felt for him, what would be better for them, what he should want for himself, when all he desired was for her to simply be by his side.

He wanted her to take care of him.

Not out of revenge, not out of lust.

He needed her.

"− I know − easy − I want to take care of you −" She whispered tenderly, in the way he'd dreamed of since he'd met her. He felt heat in his lower abdomen and heart, his hips involuntarily beginning to respond to her movements with rocking, his tip all swollen and sticky with his precum, pulsing in her embrace.

"− please − inside you −" He gasped out and she let go of him, letting him turn to face her − he grabbed her in his arms and pressed his face against her soft, plump breasts hidden beneath his t-shirt. He lifted the material quickly above her thighs, sighing in relief, feeling that she wasn't wearing underwear − she threw her leg over his waist, the fat, pink head of his cock easily forced its way between her slick, hot, plushy folds.

"− f-fuck −" He cried out, tightening his fingers on her back, snuggling into her like a small, frightened child, pounding into her with quick, sure thrusts of his hips, seeking refuge deep inside her, in the only place where he felt safe.

"− I love you − I love you − I love you − please, don't leave me −" He mumbled into her chest, choking on his own tears − her fleshy muscles clenched against him at his words, sucking him inside, his thighs slapping against her buttocks with a loud click of her moisture. He felt her fingers comb through his hair, cuddling him tighter into her, her lips placing a warm kiss on the top of his head.

"− it's too late for me anyway − I'll never be free of how much I want you −" She exhaled with a kind of relief, as if she'd been wanting to get it out of her for a long time, as if she'd finally come to terms with the fact that they were doomed to each other not because they'd decided to, but because, for some reason, they fit together like two parts of a whole.

Her hips responded to his pushes, his hand clamping down hard on her hot, soft buttocks, forcing her to let him in deeper, slamming into her so fast that he was no longer sliding out with a loud slaps of naked skin.

"− oh, baby, fuck, fuck, fuck −" He gasped out loud, for the first time being so vocal and helpless in bed, more so than when she was riding him, more so ever in his life, feeling that he no longer had the strength to pretend that he wasn't tired, that he wasn't disappointed, that he wasn't crying during the night when she wasn't next to him, that he was coping with the fact that he'd hurt the woman he'd loved so much the first day he'd really met her.

He felt her orgasm, her body arching back in shock at how intense the sensation was, soaking him wet, her palms clenching on his back, responding to his thrusts with the rocking of her hips for a moment longer, sweet, helpless moans of pleasure coming from her lips.

"− I want to have a family with you − to have children with you −" He muttered with relief as he felt the heat spill over his lower abdomen when he finally came inside her, delighted that she was letting him feel herself again, that he was deep inside her, inside his safe place, inside his home. He heard her sigh softly.

"− one day −"

223 notes · View notes

the-quackity-competition · 25 days

Text

We all know Quackity, fattest ass in the cabinet, quadruple engagey, and “Are we in character? I’m in love with Wilbur” HQ

So, how about we hold a little friendly competition between the different ships in the dsmp fandom?

Aim of the game is to get your ship the most points, through creating content for that ship. Here’s the spreadsheet to track points.

Rules:

Creations may come in the form of art or writing, each of which is worth 1 point

People are allowed to submit more than one piece, actually it’s encouraged :3

The ship must be tagged

You must @ this blog

If you’re being genuinely mean you are getting blocked and anything you make will not count, Ls to all assholes

There is no sign up, just @ this blog and have fun!

Q&A

How long will this event last?

All of September

What if I want to do multiple ships in the same piece?

Be sure to tag all the ships and they’ll count as a point to each ship! (So the Karlnapity shippers don’t lose only bc of half points)

Does the ship have to be canon? Only dsmp?

Nahhhhh have fun do whatever you want. If you do Foolish x Quackity or Roier x Quackity, for example, they’d get their own rows and get a point

What about comics? Poems?

For the sake of my sanity, a comic only counts as 1 piece, even if it has 100 panels. Same for a collection of poems.

How will we know points?

I’ll have a little spreadsheet you’ll be able to see here in the pinned post

What about nsfw stuff?

it’s allowed as long as it’s tagged with community labels or #nsft, if you don’t tag it you are getting blocked

My friend really likes this Quackity ship. Can I give them this as a gift and also have it counted for a point?

Yes! But do not mix giving events together with this competition, to make it easier on me. I do not know if the event organizer of whatever your event you’re doing is comfortable with that, so best not to do it at all. You can still participate in other events, obviously, but please do not tag me to get it counted when it’s for a different event

Are sketches half points?

nope, every drawing is one full point! No matter how detailed or how simple. This keeps the competition a little more silly goofy, like I’d like it to stay. This is very much intended for fun, not a serious competition

You’re welcome to send asks to ask more questions!

#Quackity #dsmp #Qsmp #I’m not tagging all that #fandom competition #yes this is last minute I kept forgetting whoopsie

114 notes · View notes

kamiversee · 6 months

Text

The F*ck List (semi-official) Breakdown.

The following was submitted by my lovely ☃️anon, & I needed to make this it’s own post given how long it is, my replies & clarifications are written in between this breakdown & theory (Ex: A/N > Etc.).

Here, you’ll find majority of details you may have missed & maybe even more to think about. Enjoy :)

(wc; 5.7k) (content; spoilers ofc)

holy shit Kami. i literally had to take the entire day to process everything. before anything else, i need you to know that you've created an absolute masterpiece. TFL was the first fic i ever cared to keep up with and it has set the bar impossibly high for any other writer out there. please take your time with TFL 2, i'm so excited to read your other work!! also a break sounds like it would be so good for your mind considering how long you've dedicated yourself to this story 😭😭😭 you're seriously impressive. heads up, i didn't proofread this at all bc i finished typing this at 4 am LMFAO so forgive me if it's all scrambled and makes no sense.

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A/N > Thank you for taking the time to write this breakdown, I seriously appreciate it so I wanted to take my time in responding to it & engaging with you :)

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now, on to the yap. i deadass cracked my knuckles before typing all this out.

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A/N > You’re so real for tht ngl

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i reread the entirety of TFL from chapter 1 and my brain is so melted from analyzing that i'll prob find more details tomorrow after i sleep on some theories 😭 BUT HOLY FUCK YOU REALLY WEREN'T KIDDING WHEN YOU SAID YOU WERE HINTING AT GOJO'S OBSESSION SINCE LITERALLY THE FIRST CHAPTER??? the fucking hint being that "Gojo's desire for you is so strong it's almost frightening." GIRLLLLLL 🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵

your foreshadowing and referencing is insane. idk if you intended a lot of it, but a lot of it caught my eye.

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A/N> I TOLD YOU GUYS IVE BEEN DOIN IT SINCE THE FIRST CHAPTER !! Okay not exactly but like there was a vibe I had from the first chapter & when I later came up with the twist & went back and saw that everything would connect perfectly ^.^

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chapter 7; the reader and Gojo have lighthearted banter about how the reader "started this" situation.

"I made a mistake." [reader]

"A good one."

"Bad one." You correct.

this was regarding a completely different situation but it baffled me how much it connects to the plot itself; the reader making the "mistake" of leaving her door open, and how it lead to months full of trauma and love. probably completely unintentional, but such a good detail.

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A/N > Very intentional btw, it’s supposed to be known that, in a sense, Gojo x reader is forbidden :)

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Choso's still staring at you intently, "What version of you would someone not like?"

The way he words his question only furthers that little feeling in your chest. It's almost as though he were implying that any and all versions of you would be acceptable in his eyes. - Chapter 16

THE WAY WE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT CHOSO WOULD STICK BY US REGARDLESSSSSSSS AAAAAA WE'RE SO BLIND!!! i just hope this stays true to the sequel :')

"No, I wish you didn't have to hate me." He says, shutting his eyes again and sucking in a deep breath, "B-But... it's uh, It's okay. I can live with you hating me." - Chapter 21

AAAA WE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN!!!! WE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THIS WAS FORESHADOWING OUR FUTURE WITHOUT GOJO 😭😭😭 how he can live with the idea of the reader hating him so long as she's happy with Choso, especially considering his later revelations of how twisted his actions were and how if you stuck with him, he'd view you differently. fuck.

You despise the fact that he loves you. To you, it's almost entitled for him to feel like he has that right. How dare he hold such a strong emotion for you? If he felt this way, why is he forcing you to sleep with people for him? It makes no sense.

Why would someone claim to love you and put you through so much?

If he's been in love with you all this time, why start the list in the first place? Why couldn't he have just tried to win your heart from the beginning? Why the list? Why the blackmail? You don't understand him. - Chapter 23

i'm crushed. we didn't understand because we didn't know that Sukuna was involved. that could mean a million other things. i have some far-fetched theories about this but hear me out later!!!

the entirety of chapter 23 had me fucking floored while i was rereading. THE FORESHADOWING WAS EVERYWHERE!!! EVERY FUCKING WHERE

"No sweetheart, Sukuna's an asshole but..." His expression flickers and his smile fades away. He swallows and then clears his throat, "I'm pretty sure he'll satisfy you just fine."

...

You narrow your eyes at him, "Are you sure?"

...

"Fuckin' positive," Gojo suddenly sounds pissed and you grow concerned. The arm around you gets a little tighter while he walks you through some crowds and you keep looking at the man confused.

There's a vein popping out along his jawline because of how hard he's gritting his teeth.

of course he's aggravated because he knows that Sukuna is the one behind the list in the first place 😭😭😭 I'M SORRY WE DOUBTED YOU SATORU, FUCKKKK

——FIFTEEN MINUTES. That was the exact amount of time it took you to seduce Sukuna. The act was way too easy. Actually, it was suspiciously easy.

BECAUSE HE FUCKING KNEW 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"What all did you plan on doing tonight aside from getting harassed by strangers?" Sukuna suddenly questions against your skin.

You ignore how close he is and the way his lips make you tense, turning your head to face forward. Chuckling at his last comment, "Same thing as everyone else here." You reply, slightly confused by his question.

"Bullshit," He utters, "Nobody dresses like this without the intent of gaining my attention," Sukuna claims while his hands slide back down along your body.

this 100% could be just him being cocky and Sukuna, but the recent reveal just makes this feel like an extra demeaning interaction. but of course, it's Sukuna.

chapter 24 is so fucking shady too with everything we know. i know you addressed some of these points already bc i brought them up in previous anon messages, but these things still had me paranoid;

the way Sukuna leaves us and tells the reader to go to his room after a certain amount of time (i know he could have just been tidying up real quick but everything about this man has me on edge)

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A/N> A lot of people are on edge about this but I’ll be honest, there’s nothing crazy that happens in between this time period. Not saying nothing happens but nothing crazy— it’ll be addressed later (in the next fic most likely)

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the way he's been consistently on the phone since the reader entered the room, which is shortly after she messaged Gojo saying that she'll be able to cross Sukuna off of this list by tonight which he wasn't happy with at all.

no seriously, he kept diverting his attention to something in the bathroom and then came out, still on his phone. maybe he's talking to literally anyone else but STILL I'M PARANOID

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A/N> This is to show the fact that Sukuna is a very socially active individual, & hints to the theory (I think you later state) that he has connections.

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this happens in chapter 25 but the way he keeps smiling while the reader kisses him is just so smug of him especially considering the original reason as to why the reader's even interacting with him

then the spicy chapters with Sukuna…

the foreshadowing that the lack of knowledge of Sukuna's reputation will come back to bite her in the ass; first with the knowledge that he is abusive, and then her finding out that he is the curator of the list, knowing the full details of her blackmail and even threatening her again.

WHO DID HE FUCKING FIGHT HELPPPPP MY MIND IS BOGGLING there's no way it's Gojo, right? they're both too unscathed in these next few chapters for there to have been a fight between the two of them.

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A/N > It’s not Gojo. 🙏

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THE FUCKING MOMENT WHERE HE CONTEMPLATED SOMETHING WITH THE PHONE IN HIS HAND??? I FUCKING KNEW IT. I FUCKING CALLED IT WAS SOMETHING SHADY AS HELL.

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A/N> The other Sukuna hint I was talking about is right before this moment btw, you’re welcome ;)

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then he has the audacity to hold his tongue right afterwards?? it's such a big hint towards the fact that he knew about the list from the beginning UGHHHHHHHH.

the way he tried to humor the reader about her "job" even though he was in on the whole thing. UGH. SUKUNA WHEN I GET YOU SUKUNA?? 👊👊👊👊 especially with that "whore" joke right afterwards. i can't stand him. i know that it's implied that he has a twisted view on women from having abusive women in his life (his mom and his ex who he punched) BUT STILL. he's so lucky he's fictional and hot.

the fact that we're able to pick up on the fact that it's a "crazy coincidence" that he continues the whore jokes UGHHHHH HE HAS BEEN PLAYING US FROM THE STAAAAAARTT

Gojo got upset at something from Sukuna's party, he didn't want you to call yourself a whore all of a sudden, Sukuna seems to have believed that was your actual job, and you remember how pissed Gojo seemed as he thought about you sleeping with Sukuna-

Holy fuck. Are the two connected somehow? Is something going on? What does Gojo owe Sukuna? Does Sukuna know you only slept with him as payment to clear Gojo's debt? Is-

GIRL YOU WERE ALMOST THERE!!!! YOU ALMOST HAD IT!!!

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A/N > I love teasing in my narration by nearly spoiling things 😹

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seriously though, these chapters killed me. the official end obliterated my heart. it's so fucking bittersweet i want to scream at the top of a high building. the reader ends up happy and with someone she loves, which is fantastic for her. she deserves that after everything she went through. Choso treats her so, so well.

but Gojo. with the theories i have, i feel horrible. i was so harsh towards him as a die hard Choso girly but these endings changed me. i just hope i'm right.

the fact that his healing journey is harsher than ours makes this ending sting so much. he's healed, and you can see it with his demeanor from the call and the way he interacted with the reader.

we were always made aware of the way he looked at us such deep attachment. the initial gleam shows that he's happy to see us, but that he's not reliant on us for his happiness anymore. he's finding that on his own, and it's a grueling process for him. i wished the reader gave him a hug, but that would probably make me feel even worse.

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A/N> He gave her a lil side hug (with his arm over her shoulder) & was resting his head on hers at the end if that makes you feel any better 😅

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"Through my blackmailing, I fell for you but I also did it because I loved you from the start." i'm gonna throw up bro i'm so sad. i'm proud of his growth. his obsession was so, so strong but he always prioritized the reader's happiness over himself. i know that being self-sacrificial is so core to his personality but it doesn't make it suck any less. i'm devastated. i started blasting mitski in the car on my way to work after reading this.

i thought i was ready for the journal burning. i was so ready for this tie to be severed, for them to finally move on. but i failed to realize that it could ultimately mean a life without each other. it makes sense as to why, but it still sucks.

kami i need that poly ending before i cry my eyes out at 4 am rn. you know i can't handle angst, but bittersweet endings lowkey hurt me even more. i need all my babies to be happy. i desperately need it.

but that alt ending... fuck. in a horrible, sick, and twisted way, i'm relieved. i'm a Choso girly from the bottom of my heart but i can't let this Gojo go omfg. even if he shows up for one more chapter, i think i'll be alright. BUT IT BETTER NOT BE FOR DEATH KAMI!!!! I HAVE A FEW EXCERPTS THAT SUGGEST DEATH FLAGS BUT I AM SIMPLY NOT LOOKING AT THEM. DON'T DO THIS TO ME KAMIIIIIII. i need this boy to be frolicking in a field of flowers or something. my heart can't take this.

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A/N> I know I reference death a lot but that’s just to add a sense of how dramatic the characters are 🫶

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okay, time for my mind-fucky theory. pls bare with me. if it wasn't obvious by my last post, i'm 100% on board with the theory that Sukuna's blackmailing Gojo, which started this whole thing. but the thing that is getting me is how this all connects. i have some assumptions that could make sense, but there are a handful of gaps. here's my thought process;

Sukuna's blackmailing Gojo by using his obsession/love against him.

we are already familiar with the fact that Gojo has liked the reader for years. there was a chapter where Gojo mentioned that it started off as a "crush" but he was so oblivious to his own obsession up until the reader mentioned it to him. it's to the point that he didn't understand what was wrong with the idea of hurting people for the reader. who's to say that Sukuna didn't catch him in some sort of heinous act regarding the reader like stalking?

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A/N > You’re cooking with this one and I almost, almost had to go get the fire extinguisher :D

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Gojo didn't understand the difference between love and obsession until later on in the story. this would be consistent with the implication that Gojo just loved her so deeply that his morals were askew as we have yet to find out how far his love goes.

what if Sukuna caught him in the act of doing god knows what, and brought up the fact that if the reader found out about this, that she'd get super freaked out and would do everything she can to get away from him (considering probably barely knew each other, if at all, at this point). but why would Sukuna devise such a plan over a money bribe? well, Sukuna's already revealed to be wealthy, and maybe he was bored. the same line that Gojo kept repeating to the reader whenever she questioned him as to why he did it. what if Gojo asked Sukuna why he's blackmailing him, and he said the exact same thing; "I was bored." we see how much Sukuna mirrors Gojo's speech by calling the reader "sweetheart" often, what if Gojo did the same thing?

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A/N > Gojo & Sukuna do have a few parallels in this story & they will be addressed more in the sequel.

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we wondered in chapter 23 how Gojo reaches out to these men to ensure their debt is "paid," but considering how oblivious everyone else on the list is to Gojo owing them anything, it would make sense that he only reports to Sukuna as he is ordered to do so. but two things stumped me on this theory overall.

the reader said that she used to party a lot and get involved with boys before Gojo. if he was stalking her for so long, why did he wait so long to approach her?

what specifically would be the blackmail that Sukuna has on Gojo?

regarding the first point, it's been mentioned that Gojo has been "scared of women" and was shy when it came to approaching the reader. he knew of her for so long, but was able to constantly slip under her radar. considering how much of a pervert he is, it wouldn't have been surprising for him to sneak around and watch in on the reader hooking up with other guys. after all, these guys were probably complete strangers to him and all he cared about was you. remember how Gojo was basically able to tune out his own best friend, Suguru, when the reader was hooking up with him in their living room? it wouldn't be wild to assume that he was able to do the same for your other hookups as he spied on you.

to connect this with second point, what if Sukuna caught Gojo being a peeping tom on the reader during a party hook-up? while being so distracted in the act of spying, Sukuna spots him. the reader wouldn't be alright with the fact that someone who's barely an acquaintance (if that, depending on the time this occurred) to her has been perving around and watching her have sex without her consent. she would do anything to get away from Gojo, and of course that would crush him. Gojo tried to buy Sukuna's silence by any means necessary. so, Sukuna generated a list of people that he and Gojo mutually knew for the reader to fuck. the reasoning for it would be the fact that Gojo has to sit through the process of having the girl he likes fuck a bunch of guys besides him, and the fact that Gojo knew all these men would make it sting more. plus, he has a reputation for hookups. (chapter 8)

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A/N > You’re like RIGHT there with it and yet not there at the same time omg 😟

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but why would Gojo agree to this deal with Sukuna, and why would he also go with the method of blackmailing the reader? it's basically a guarantee that the reader would be scared away regardless. but again, we could recall that Shoko mentioned that he was too "scared of women" to approach the reader at first. this was his chance to finally approach her. plus, "once that video is gone, there is no excuse he'll have to be around you." (chapter 8)

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but the more i thought of this reasoning for the two points, the more bizarre it felt. so what if instead of Gojo being a peeping tom, it was Sukuna. we get so many hints that Sukuna has eyes and intel everywhere. we get an indirect implication of this when he called us out for rolling our eyes during our phone call with him. yes, it could be completely by chance, but it's still a great hint that he "sees everything" and "knows everything." we get an even bigger hint towards this in the alt ending when he directly references The F*ck List.

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A/N > Others have taken note of how Sukuna knew she rolled her eyes but trust me, that’s just to show that Sukuna knows the reader’s body language more than he’s let on & paid attention to her a lot during the time they were together.

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it wouldn't be too far fetched to assume that he has some shady videos taken of people without his consent, some possibly acquired through other people (like how Gojo was revealed to have sent Sukuna the video of the reader from the first chapter). what if Gojo caught Sukuna with the video, threatened him to delete it, and Sukuna counterthreatened to have it be sent and posted everywhere. it would be highly ironic, but consistent with the way that Gojo and Sukuna practically mirror each other at times. the reasoning for the list choices would still be the same for this theory, too.

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my citations for these theories ☝️🤓

“You once asked me if I love you because I blackmailed you or if I blackmailed you because I love you and my answer is both,” Gojo confesses as he turns to meet your gaze, “Through my blackmailing, I fell for you but I also did it because I loved you from the start.” - Chapter 56

loved you from the start; his obsession has been consistent from the start (supports Gojo being a peeping tom theory) or he has always had a deep concern for you (supports him wanting to stop Sukuna from spreading blackmail of you instead).

“I’ve sacrificed everything for you, y’know.”

“How? What’s everything that you’ve sacrificed, hm?”

“You. I sacrificed the woman I love to make her happy.” Gojo admits, and of all he’s said thus far, that feels like the truest statement.

“I could’ve been happy with you.” You remind him.

He laughs, “Yeah well, I’m an idiot.”

You scoff, “That’s all you have to say?”

“Yup.” - Chapter 56

is he an idiot for being a peeping pervert instead of just approaching you normally? maybe. how does this make her happy? she ends up finding love through Choso, through the list, through the blackmail.

But deleting the video means ... he has no more leverage over you and can't force you to help him with the hole he's dug for himself. - Chapter 8

the hole being the blackmail set against him by Sukuna.

Gojo's behind you cursing at himself for being unable to tell you the truth.

He's so scared that you'll never help him without the blackmail and, well, he has every right to be because you're pretty sure that if it weren't for those videos he has over your head, you wouldn't be doing any of this. - Chapter 9

the videos he's referencing is the original video from chapter 1 and the fake video he lied about with Suguru, but he can't tell the reader the truth because it's too twisted and risky (supports Gojo peeping tom theory).

He silences himself in thought. There are so many ways he could go about answering such a question but the possibilities of how you may react are endless. Plus, you're drunk and if he's going to admit or explain anything to you, it'll be while you're sober.

"Because..." Gojo's voice gets so quiet that you almost don't catch what he says, "...I don't have any other choice." - Chapter 21

if he didn't go through with his list, Sukuna would have went through with Gojo's blackmail, thus resulting in either you getting as far away from Gojo as soon as possible or Sukuna's video being sent around.

He let something slip abruptly, "W-Wish I c-could tell you everything, sweets..."

Your brows furrow at that.

Are you missing something here? - Chapter 22

YES GIRL!!!! SUKUNA'S BEHIND THE WHOLE LIST, HE'S BEHIND THE BLACKMAIL GIRLYPOP

"Anything," Gojo says, meeting your gaze. He's so serious that it's almost dark the way he looks at you, "I'd do anything for you." - Chapter 29

"I meant it when I said I'd do anything for you."

You follow his motions and then end up right back in his arms, "Right..."

"I'd sacrifice the very thing I love just to see you happy." Gojo claims proudly.

You scoff, "Thought' I was the thing you loved?"

"You are."

His words bewilder you, "Then that makes no sense."

"It won't." Gojo shrugs. - Chapter 29

🧍‍♀️

anything. even if it means putting your body, heart, mind, and career on the line. directly supports the theory that Sukuna initially had blackmail on the reader.

"We're the same, y'know..." He suddenly says, his voice breaking again, "We both want someone so terribly bad but our situations prohibit us from getting that person."

"You could've prevented all this though..."

Gojo sniffles and you feel a drop of wetness slide down his cheek and slip against your palm. The man was crying? Why? - Chapter 30

this whole time we've been told that Gojo and the reader share more similarities than the reader realizes. what Gojo is to the reader, the reader is to Choso. while Choso now knows of the men that the reader slept with, he doesn't know why. he doesn't know about you being blackmailed. you know that you had to sleep with these men. you don't know why. you didn't know it was because of Gojo being blackmailed.

"For loving me, Satoru. It's not a crime," You say, mocking a comment he made to you earlier, "You're allowed to love me. So, for that, and that only, I forgive you."

Those words healed so many more wounds in his heart than you realized. It was like that was all he ever needed to hear. If Gojo's mistake was loving you and that's what caused this, then you forgive him.

If in some twisted way, his feelings started the list, you forgive him.

COME ON NOW.

There’s so much going unspoken but the two of you knew what either was saying, you understood each other more than either of you realized. - Chapter 35

“Well,” Gojo sighs heavily and then draws your hands off his face, leaning down to you a bit, “Sometimes, sacrifices need to be made in exchange for one’s happiness.”

“Are you telling me that all this was for the greater good?” You quiz as you raise a curious brow.

“Something like that, yeah,” He shrugs. - Chapter 45

You tell him, “If I had one wish, it’d be that you did that from the beginning.”

Gojo opens his mouth to say something but then he swallows his words down. He nearly fucked up.

“All you had to do was talk to me,” Your shoulders raise into a shrug as you move a hand to the doorknob, “Things could’ve been different if you did.”

“Even if I’ve been obsessed with you since the beginning?” He questions and he’s stepping closer to you again. He can’t possibly wrap his head around that possibility-

You laugh a bit, “Especially if you were obsessed from the beginning,” You didn’t know it but that statement right there made the man feel as though his world was falling apart, loads of regret tumbling over him as he stares at you with wide eyes, “Satoru I think you forgot but, before all this started, aside from Shoko… I was lonely.”

Gojo’s throat goes dry and he fails to form a response to that, “I…”

“If you had just talked to me one time, and more than a hey or how are you,” The way your eyes soften, a slim sheer gloss of tears coating your gaze as you speak to him, “I would’ve fallen for you.”

He grits his teeth, “Don’t tell me that.”

“But it’s true.” You say.

And just like that, Gojo was crumbling all over again. If only you knew how much he regretted everything after hearing you say that. - Chapter 46

if he had just spoke to the reader before all of this, maybe she wouldn't have gone to those parties, hooked up with those people, and caused whatever kind of blackmail Sukuna had on Gojo (or on her).

He wishes he could take it all back, his feelings for you included. If only he could go back and stop himself from ever being curious about you. That’s what started it after all. Because, at the end of the day, Gojo knew who you were before you knew who he was— hell, even before Shoko knew who you were. - Chapter 53

then what is the timeline of his obsession starting? has it been before Gojo? could his blackmail have taken place even before Shoko introduced you two, adding to the weight of the threat that Sukuna held over Gojo's head (regarding the peeping tom theory).

┏━━━

A/N > The timeline on Gojo’s interest, not obsession just yet, on the reader will be addressed in the sequel so this’ll be answered there <3

┗━━━

---

but there were certain parts that stumped me and my theories so i have some weird reasonings around them;

It's selfish of him and seriously fucked up but, he's said it before and he'll say it over and over again-- you're all he has. He made promises to everyone on that list, promises of delivering a woman to them at some point, and of course, he couldn't convince anyone he knew to do such a thing.

So again, the situation with you just happened to be a coincidence.

The problem is that Gojo hates that it's you. He hates that you're the one he ended up doing this to. - Chapter 8

Gojo's known to be a silly guy so it could make sense that he actually did promise these guys hookups for reasons unrelated to his blackmail. after all, he does have a reputation for getting people hookups. the coincidence is that Sukuna now has dirt on Gojo and wants to toy with him. by making the reader sleep with them the guys he coincidentally owes hookups to, he fulfills his role/reputation and relieves his debt at the same time. two birds, one stone.

┏━━━

A/N > As we later learn that some of the “debt” Satoru claimed to have isn’t real, we can also infer that his reputation & the promises he’s made to these men were done out of coincidence. Take Toji for example; tell me you can’t see an interaction between him & Gojo where Gojo gets a bad grade and wants to get it up so he taunts his professor with the idea of getting him a hookup & Toji would laugh it off considering Gojo’s reputation ;)

┗━━━

another thing that stumped me is why Gojo got so worked up with the reader referring herself as a whore, and the connection to Sukuna. my delulu reasoning is that once Sukuna threatened Gojo with blackmail by either of the two theories/methods i mentioned, Sukuna casually referred to the reader as a whore. that caused a major fight between the two, possibly even getting physical (which can refer back to the implication that Gojo has hurt people for the reader).

the fight could have increased the tension and severity of the situation, so Sukuna decides to add Choso to the list knowing how easily attached Choso gets. in chapter 5, the reader and Gojo were discussing the list and Choso specifically. Gojo was even noted to be relieved when the reader had mentioned that they'll just have to hope that Choso doesn't get attached, as he obviously holds deep feelings for the reader. Sukuna knows that by going through with the blackmail with Choso involved, Gojo most likely will not end up with the reader if Choso get attached and the reader reciprocates those feelings.

also, the counterargument that Sukuna and Gojo are actually friends/allies in this situation just doesn't sit well with me. it would make for a crazy twist but it just feels too out of character for Gojo. but then again, how would Sukuna specifically know about The F*ck List? but idk, it just feels so wrong to me. maybe i have too much faith in Gojo lmfao. after all, he has consistently shown a great dislike towards the guy since chapter 23. but maybe it's my denial speaking. i really don't want to think of Satoru going through this whole arc only for it to reveal that he truly is a piece of shit. pls don't do this to my pookie my heart cannot handle it </3

┏━━━

A/N > Remember, Gojo is a good actor & you go a long period of time in the book not realizing he’s not as much of a villain as he pretends to be 😉

┗━━━

there's that moment after the reader fucked Sukuna that still messes with my brain. with my theories, my brain's thinking that he contemplated on collecting even more blackmail on the reader. for what reason? idk, to be an ass? to torment Gojo further and add more to his blackmail? but maybe he decided not to because he already has plenty of blackmail on the reader (if the theory of Sukuna having a video of her from way back then is true) and fucking her knowingly made Gojo pissed considering all the dirt Sukuna has.

so why can't Gojo tell her the truth now? why does he want to wait years in advance? maybe he's hoping that by that time, not only will you forget and not care about the situation overall, but maybe Sukuna will forget all about it as well. the chances of Sukuna holding on to the reader's blackmail for that long is slim and the reader would most likely be in a situation where she is completely separated from Sukuna depending on her job and living situation with Choso. the stakes are lower than if he were to reveal everything to you now, at a moment where your life is still so uncertain. it would go against his wish for you to end up happy.

┏━━━

A/N > Maybe Gojo doesn’t tell her the truth because he can’t, just as he said 🌚 Perhaps he’s not allowed to yet. After all, why would Sukuna even tell the reader he made the list in the end? ^.^ Just some food for thought!

┗━━━

---

regarding the future of TFL... fuck, bro. i have no fucking idea. i'm too caught up in the (presumed) past. i'm mourning fr. i love this fic sooooo fucking much. whenever you decide to pick up on the sequel, i will be there. if you choose to publish anything else in the meantime, i will be there. thanks for such a fun and memorable read, Kami. i'm excited to bookbind this soon 🤍🤍🤍 now, i need to watch blue lock to shove these feelings down.

yap fin (for now)

-☃️

A/N > I love you sosoosooooo much for this. These theories are like reading an entirely new fanfic sometimes except, I know all the answers & what’s going to happen next, which only makes me more excited ^.^ Thank you for taking the time to make this, thank you for reading, thank you for supporting, just, THANK YOU.

This right here is exactly what I write for; people like you :)

To the others reading this breakdown & theory, thank ☃️anon because she’s a damn godsend & ilhsm ^.^ (definitely showing favoritism rn, sorry not sorry, ily all I swear)

Edit; Since you’re watching Blue Lock, I can’t wait to bring my Shidou fanfic here because a lot of the drama in TFL has inspo from that fic, which I wrote first ^.^ & I could totally see you enjoying it because not only is it a childhood friends to lovers than enemies & back to lovers troupe BUT it also includes Itoshi Sae x reader which ofc, adds hella drama :))

P.S. It’s two am as I finally post this and omg sorry it took me a while, I wanted to answer other anons first before unpacking this badboy, again, tysm!!

#the f*ck list #tfl!theories #tfl spoiler #tfl #k!ans: ☃️

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thebenjiblackwoodexpress · 2 months

Text

Jump then fall prt.8-The Finale

Description: Can Aeron and Y/N get their happily ever after, or will the impending Dance of the Dragons keep them apart? Dragons, a wild Benjicot, and tourney's, oh my!

Part 7

Writer's note: the final part of Jump then Fall! I had never written a fanfic before this but it's been so fun to get involved with the HOTD fandom. Thank you so much to everyone who read this series :) I'm not sure if I'll write for Aeron anymore as I'll be trying my hand at an Aemond series next. But Elizabeth will hold the fort on the Brackenwood twinks with her Benji content. This includes crossover content with The Blackwood Knight since we accidentally created what we like to call 'The Bracken Tree Multiverse.' 😏

Warnings: swearing, female reader, Canon divergent, hurt/comfort, brief angst, lot's of fluff.

As dawn broke, Aeron made his way to the border with Samwell and Edmund. They did not have to wait long for Benjicot Blackwood to appear over the top of a hill, making his way down to them alone to Aeron's surprise. He was either brazen or so in love with Aeron's cousin that he had become blind to risk. He addressed Aeron with more deference and respect than he'd expected, based on the hostility that had tinged all their previous interactions. "Ser Aeron, I was gladdened to receive your raven." Aeron tried to match his tone "Ser Benjicot, I thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I will get to the point. It is my intention to broker peace between our Houses, your relationship with my cousin has led me to believe you will be amenable to this." Benjicot looked up sharply, can he really have been surprised that his love for Aeron's cousin was the worst kept secret in the Riverlands?

Coughing slightly at the awkwardness of the situation, Benjicot straightened and assumed an air of pride. "I am indeed in love with your cousin. I hope you do not intend to take issue with this. I would prefer not to fight you for fear of upsetting my beloved, I know how she cares for you." Aeron smirked back at him. "I do not take issue with you Blackwood. But it has come to my attention you have been sneaking across the border to see the lady under cloak of darkness. I ask you to desist and to meet with her by day instead before you are married." An uncharacteristic dusting of pink tinted Benjicot's cheeks as he nodded wordlessly. Aeron continued "I will arrange for you to meet her at the border and take her to visit Raventree Hall on the morrow should this be acceptable to you. The lady herself has already agreed to the arrangement." Benjicot's perpetually cocky smirk returned in full force "I gladly accept. Now tell me of your terms for peace."

The terms were shortly settled and Aeron turned to Edmund as soon as Benjicot was out of hearing distance. "Cousin, I am grateful for your aid today and must ask of you another favour. Can I entrust you to take a message to my Lady, requesting a meeting with her in a location of her choosing. I will not encroach upon her home in the current circumstances. In doing so I trust that you will also issue her with your most heartfelt apology." Aeron's eyebrows rose up at the last, Edmund sheepishly nodding in return. "I will see to it forthwith cousin." Aeron wished to inform Y/N of the fortunate outcome of his meeting with Benjicot in person. He felt her absence most keenly, and seeing her so distressed the previous evening had broken his resolve to stay away from her entirely.

He had just barely been able to bear it when he'd thought it was only him that was suffering so acutely, knowing that it was her wish for him to keep his distance. And he'd instead tried to be content with sending her letters each day and imagining her response to each word. But seeing Y/N look so unwell, watching her burst into tears upon seeing him, and having her practically faint in his arms, had broken his resolve. Nonetheless, he wished to approach this as respectfully and in keeping with Y/N's wishes as possible, sending Edmund with his message first and requesting that she appoint a meeting place herself.

Edmund returned to Bracken Hall before midday with his Lady's response. He let out a sigh of relief as Edmund informed him of her acquiescence to meeting him and that she awaited him presently under their tree. Aeron wasted no time, pocketing a small parcel and departing to meet her at a brisk pace. He slowed his pace as Y/N came into view, palm raised to the trunk of the Brackentree as if reliving a memory. Trying not to startle her, he endeavoured to make enough noise to make his presence known at a distance. She looked up upon hearing the tread of his boots and Aeron stopped a respectful distance away. He looked longingly into her expectant eyes, wishing he could take her hand but knowing his advances would be unwanted at present. He did not assume that because she had allowed him to hold her yesterday, she would allow him to do so today. "My Lady, I am grateful you agreed to meet with me. I hope Edmund was respectful and fittingly apologetic for his part." Y/N nodded, the corner of her mouth quirked up as if trying to contain a smile. "He was, i've never seen him do anything but preen and look obnoxious. I would say it made a welcome change if I could, but it was almost disturbing." Aeron laughed at her wit, the sound and feel of laughter almost foreign to him now, and he rejoiced that she should feel comfortable enough to jest with him. "I wished to tell you of my meeting with Benjicot Blackwood." Y/N eyes immediately perked up attentively at that, eager to hear his news as she leaned her back against the trunk of the Bracken tree. "He was amenable to my suggestions for brokering peace between our Houses and was generous in his offer to dispense with the boundary lines. You were right that my cousin had a secret love, it was Benjicot all along. He seemed willing to go to any lengths to ensure she would not be torn between our two Houses and so I could not have hoped for a better outcome."

He took some tentative steps towards Y/N, and when she did not startle or attempt to move from her position, he walked to stand directly in front of her. His voice came out soft and distant even to him as he became lost in gazing at her. He had not been able to gaze upon the woman he loved for such a painfully long period of time and drank in each detail of her appearance now, in the fear that she would not allow him to see her again. Pulling his focus back to her eyes he was startled to find that her eyes seemed to be flitting across his features in the same manner, and he felt his own heart stutter at the thought of her missing him too. "All that is left is for me to convince my uncle to agree to Benjicot's terms, and reaffirm my refusal to the marriage with Roslyn Tully." Y/N nodded but still looked to him unsure. "And you think you can convince him on both those matters?" Aeron's expression turned resolute, his gaze focused on her eyes "I am certain of it because there is no other option for me. I have only ever loved one girl my whole life and I will marry no other, whatever the consequences."

Y/N raised her hand to hold onto the sleeve of his tunic, pulling him towards her slightly, before looking back up to him with her own determined stare. "I must ask you to understand how betrayed I have felt, how much your actions hurt me, and that it is difficult for me to trust you now. But I love you, you know this already and there is no use in denying it." Aeron tentatively raised his own hand to lightly graze her ribcage with his knuckles, a barely there touch that still conveyed his affection for her. He did not try to interrupt her as she continued. "If you make me your solemn promise never to deceive me again, and to keep your word with regards to your intentions, I will endeavour to forgive you and hope that in time my trust in you can be restored to what it was."

Aeron smiled tenderly at her, her words so welcome to his ears. He pulled a small package from his tunic, unwrapping it to reveal a golden broach to her. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the golden stallion atop the clasp, the symbol of House Bracken. "I wish for you to take this small token as an assurance that I mean what I say, in my eyes you are already the future Lady Bracken, should you permit it." Y/N tentatively took the broach from him, finding herself genuinely moved by his heartfelt attempt to show her his true intentions. She looked back up at him with a gentle smile "Thank you, Aeron."

Lost in his feeling of elation at her acceptance of his small gift, he took a step closer to her as if to embrace her and she planted a hand firmly on his chest to stop him. Aeron instantly halted his movements as his head dropped and he took a step back. "Aeron, I do not wish to open my heart to any more dissapointment. I ask that you keep your distance oncemore. You may come to me only when you have your uncle's express consent to break off your betrothal to Lady Roslyn, only when you are free to marry who you wish." Aeron's expression turned pained, but he understood his Lady's reasoning. "As you wish it, my love." Y/N briefly raised her hand as if to touch him before seeming to think better of it, lowering it back down to her side. "Farewell then Aeron." Her eyes glistened slightly as she strode quickly away from him. Aeron stayed rooted to the spot, watching Y/N walk away from him until she passed over the hill that lead to her home and he could no longer see her.

Lord Amos Bracken was furious at first to learn of his nephew's meeting with Benjicot Blackwood and the pact they had made. To know that Aeron had acted on behalf of House Bracken without his consent. He refused to speak with his nephew for three days in his anger, despite Aeron's constant attempts to catch him as he left his council room or left his chambers to break his fast. By the third day, Aeron had had enough. His uncle's stalling was just extending the length of time before he could see Y/N again and so on the third day he boldly strode into his uncle's council as it was in session. "Uncle I will speak with you, should you permit it or not. I ask you now to decide whether I will do so in front of your council members or not."

His uncle gaped at Aeron's audacity before signalling for his council to depart with a wave of his hand. As soon as the room was vacated and the door shut, Aeron began before his uncle could forestall him further. "Uncle the pact Ser Benjicot Blackwood and I have brokered will mean peace throughout the Riverlands. There will be no more cause for violence at the border, indeed we will need no border at all and can pass peacefully between Blackwood and Bracken lands. You reject it out of spite alone. Will you not see what lies before you? We assure our own destruction if you will not be swayed." Lord Amos merely glared at Aeron, saying nothing and Aeron threw his hands up in frustration before stalking from the chamber, leaving the door to swing harshly against the wall. However, Lord Amos had begun to consider Aeron's words, unbeknownst to his nephew.

The next day Aeron took a different approach and when he sought an audience with his uncle again, it was with Lady Roslyn beside him. "Uncle, I entreat you to consider the benefits of an accord between our House and House Blackwood. There is no need for us to tear the Riverlands apart for Targaryen overlords who have no care for us. I will not marry Lady Roslyn, nor does she have any desire to marry me and she has kindly accompanied me to tell you as much. It is Y/N I love and it is her alone I will pledge myself too. You can either except this absolute with or without the peace pact I have secured." Aeron was out of breath by the time he had finished his tirade but his persistence had been worth it. Lord Amos finally acceded the sagacity of a pact between Blackwoods and Brackens, particularly when the Riverlands were threatened by all out warfare and destruction by dragon fire. Together, the Houses of the Riverlands would stand strong. And at last, he consented to dissolve Aeron's betrothal to the Lady Roslyn, much to her own relief. Aeron was pleasant enough but her tastes lay elsewhere, she had already found love with her handmaiden. She laughed as Aeron ran from the hall the second they were dismissed, having no doubt of where he was headed.

Y/N was almost ashamed to find herself yet again sat in the windowsill of her father's home, that gave her a direct view of Bracken Hall. She knew that it was at her request that Aeron stayed away. She had not thought she could bear his closeness while still uncertain whether she would be able to marry him. It did not matter that he'd all but promised himself to her, not until Lord Bracken rescinded his betrothal to Roslyn Tully. The Blackwood heir's ready acceptance to peace terms had filled her with hope, but she was no fool and would not allow herself to be placed in a precarious position again as she had been when Aeron's betrothal had first been announced.

And yet she had almost convinced herself she could see Aeron walking the path that led to her home, as she had often imagined. Her heart leapt in her chest as she realised she was not imagining anything, that was Aeron making his way across the field which led to her home. He was far off in the distance but she could recognise his silhouette anywhere. Y/N knew that if he had come to her that could only mean one thing, that all her hopes were coming to fruition. She slid off the window sill, picking up her skirts and beginning to run. It was a difficult task with nerves racking her entire body, but she felt an inexplicable pull forcing her legs to move faster as she ran to meet Aeron.

He did not spot her at first, seemingly preoccupied with staring at his boots, a bouquet of baby's breath flowers swinging from one of his hands. But when he did his face lit up in a smile that was pure sunshine to Y/N, full of warmth, which only made her run that much faster. Aeron opened his arms to meet her as she practically flew into him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her to him in an embrace that lifted her feet of the ground. He held her aloft and against him for a long while, his face pressed against her hair, breathing in the smell of her perfume, before he slowly slid her back down to the ground. He kept his arms firmly encircled around her waist nonetheless, as if frightened she would dissapear, though she had no intention of leaving his arms anytime soon.

Still out of breath from her exertions, she spoke in between pants. "It is settled then? I am to be your wife?" She watched a soft emotion crossed Aeron's eyes. Removing his hands from her waist and taking a step back from her, which had Y/N inwardly panicking that she had misunderstood the situation entirely, he suddenly knelt before her on one knee. She blushed as she realised what he was doing. Taking both her hands in his, he looked up at her reverentially as if she were a goddess and he her humble worshipper. "I will make no great speeches now my love, for I hope there will be plenty of time for that in the days and years that follow. I know that I tarried too long in expressing this, my most earnest and longheld desire, that you should become my wife, so I will waste no more time. I offer myself to you as your husband, as one who loves you and wants nothing more than to cherish you for the rest of our lives."

Y/N could hardly speak through the all-consuming joy she felt but squeezed his hands and managed out a breathy "yes." Aeron was on his feet in an instant, oncemore lifting her off the ground and spinning her as they both laughed. Setting her back down, he slowly brought his hands to either side of her face, before pressing his forehead to hers and closing his eyes, as if trying to convey the love he felt for her with this touch. He brushed his lips against hers, whispering against them "I can no longer be a raven", seemingly referring to that pained period when the only connection he could have with his beloved was the daily letters he sent by raven. With that he closed the distance and captured her lips with his. Y/N pulled away from him after a few moments, fixing Aeron with a stern gaze. "Don't you ever do something so stupid again, do you understand me?" Aeron gulped down a swallow before responding "Of course my love, it was a terrible thing and I am sorry for it. I will spend a lifetime trying to make up for it." Y/N considered this and nodded, placing her head on his chest. Only a second later she abruptly pushed him away from her, seemingly not finished with scolding him for his previous misteps as she poked him in the chest with her index finger. "And don't think that you can just get away with..." Aeron quickly cut her off, pulling her back to him by her waist and crashing his lips to hers. Y/N found she did not care about his rude interruption, simply opening her palm to lay it flat against his chest and entangling her other hand in his hair. She felt him smile against her lips as she did so.

Aeron did not think he had ever been so nervous in his life as he stood at the altar of the Sept at Bracken Hall, waiting for Y/N. His feelings had clearly mapped their way onto his expression and Samwell lightly elbowed him in the ribs as he stood at his side. "Worried she's going to jilt you? Can't blame you, she was always too good for you." When Aeron shot him a look of utter panic at what he'd intended as a joke Sam relented and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Stop worrying. Y/N loves you, it may be misguided philanthropy on her part but it's true nonetheless. She'll be here." Aeron nodded and faced back towards the door.

He was glad of it as within moments Y/N appeared on her father's arm. Aeron's face broke into a smile at the sight of her. She had never looked so beautiful to him than she did now in her wedding dress of cream and gold, symbolising her affinity with his House. He had to remember to keep his breathing even as she walked towards him, but his nerves disappeared altogether when she removed herself from her father's arm to take his hand instead. He could barely contain his joy as they spoke their vows, realising that he could finally call Y/N his wife.

𝕰𝖕𝖎𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

As the great Houses of the Riverlands came together as one to support Rhaenyra's claim, the war was quickly won in the true Queen's favour. A period of peace and prosperity was brought forth such that the Riverlands had never seen in living memory, the pact between House Blackwood and House Bracken cemented in treaties and in blood with the marriage of the Lord of Raventree, Benjicot Blackwood, to Aeron Bracken's cousin.

Aeron felt sure he'd checked everywhere for his favourite riding gloves, having turned his chambers inside out to find them. He was certain his Lady Wife would not be best pleased at the mess but he urgently needed his gloves for the tourney his uncle was holding on the morrow. He had neither the time nor the patience to restore everything back to its rightful place as he searched, leaving behind him a wake of destruction. A gentle cough behind him signalled the arrival of the very lady he'd been thinking of and he turned to her with a sheepish smile. "I must apologise, my love. I assure you I will set everything back to rights, I just cannot seem to find my gloves anywhere." Y/N nodded, smoothing her skirts down and beginning to open up a cabinet he'd not yet checked. "I think it best we find the gloves first before we attempt to put anything back in order. I don't trust you not to mess it up again otherwise." She sent him a look that was half stern, half teasing. "Right you are of course, my darling." He smiled at her sweet nature as she joined him in looking for his missing gloves.

Opening a drawer in the bottom shelf of a dresser his hands grazed some crumpled parchment, and he pulled out a wad of letters tied together with lilac ribbon. As he continued to look at them he realised they were in fact his letters, or rather the ones he had written to Y/N in the weeks following that disastrous banquet, when she had refused to speak to him at all. He had imagined she'd thrown every letter out in her anger with him, it warmed his heart to know she'd kept them like precious treasures. They were crumpled and clearly well-read, as if she had gone back to them time and time again. Suspicious of her husband's silence, Y/N turned and her heart skipped a beat at what she saw. Quickly running over to him she made a grab for the letters but Aeron pulled them out of her reach. Her face was flushed with embarrassment but Aeron could not see why.

"You kept my letters?" Hearing the tenderness in his tone as his eyes softened, she realised he did not mean to mock her for her sentimentality.

"They were beautiful letters."

"I thought you had hated each one, though I could not find it in myself to stop writing. Those letters felt like the only thing tethering me to you at one point."

Y/N reached up to stroked Aeron's cheek. "I cannot tell you what those words meant to me. I read them over and over, they were the only thing that made me certain you did in fact love me. I cherish them and read them often even now."

Aeron took her hand from his face to place a kiss on her palm at her admission. "Perhaps I should write more love letters, then, if it would please my Lady Wife." Aeron smirked cockily at her. She swatted his chest, "Don't get too arrogant now, it doesn't suit you husband. I should be glad to receive your notes though if you deign to write them."

Aeron pulled her to him, his chin resting atop her head. "I shall dedicate hours to them each day. Nothing shall take precedence." Aeron jested. He did so love to hear his wife laugh.

As the morning of the tourney loomed, Aeron attempted with little success to put on his armour without the help of his bastardly squire, who'd gotten too deep into his cups at the opening feast the night prior. As he struggled to attach his pauldron to his breastplate he heard the shift of fabric as the flap of his tent was pulled up and his Lady Wife entered. "Husband, I can hear you clanging about with your armour from outside. Let me help you." She removed his hands from where he'd been fumbling with clasps as she deftly began to attach each piece with more patience and skill than he had done. He felt his heartbeat race, as she brushed her hands across his shoulders to survey her handy work. Though they were now married and he could barely feel her touch through the armour, she was ever able to have such an affect on him.

Handing him his gauntlet she nodded, seemingly satisfied with her work. "You are presentable, now make me proud." Aeron let out a hearty laugh, pulling his beloved wife to him with one arm wrapped around her waist as she braced her hands against his chest from the momentum. He leaned down and lightly brushed his nose against hers. "I shall win every tournament which I compete in if it should please my Lady, and if she consent to give me her favour." Quickly pecking him on the lips Y/N affectionately patted Aeron on the cheek before pulling away. "None of that my Good Knight. You can get a kiss when you win your tournaments."

As Aeron reluctantly released her, a playful look lit her eyes and she made a grab for his sword. "You should teach me how to use this Aeron, it might come in handy when your cousin Edmund is being particularly reprehensible." Lifting it she attempted to swing it in an arch but stumbled under the weight of it, not having taken that into account. Aeron's eyes widened in concern for her safety as it swung wildly out of her grip in the direction of the tent entrance, only for Samwell to pop his head through the flap. The sword just barely missed his head as his eyes widened comically in shock. Y/N quickly covered her mouth in embarrassment and fear of what she had almost done. Seeming to recover his wits, Samwell turned his head in Aeron's direction. "I dare say my good man your Lady Wife almost decapitated me. What have you done to make her so angry she should swing your own sword at you."

Y/N took a step towards him, frantically uttering her apologies. "I'm so terribly sorry Samwell, I was being silly and messing about with it."

Samwell did not wish to embarass his friend's wife and so shrugged it off. "No worries my Lady, if I were bound to that oaf over there for the rest of my days I'd also have swung a sword at him by now." Aeron rolled his eyes at Samwell and wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders, rubbing his hand down her arm comfortingly. "I'll not have you undermining my Lady's swordsmanship Samwell. The blow was clearly well aimed and meant for you. I'm immensely proud." Y/N's embarrassment had begun to fade as the two men continued to jest and volley insults at one another, but she resolutely decided she would in fact ask Aeron to teach her to handle a sword in future to avoid any recurrences. With a soft kiss to the crown of her head, Aeron departed for the joust and Y/N made for the stands to cheer on her husband. She positioned herself close to the balcony railings of Lord Bracken's box so Aeron would be able to see her and ask for her favour. She well knew he had kept the first lilac favour she'd ever given him tied to his swordbelt, and yet she still knew he would ask it of her. She believed that to him it was his way of expressing to her what they'd both always known since they were children, that he was her Good Knight and she his Lady.

@lovebabe18 @poppyflower-22 @ithilwen-blackwood @spinachtz @lady-callisto @twistytimesandthoughts @abookloverlawyerfan-blog @mymoonempress @alexandracgg @rvllybllply2014 @nyrasnation @shemisseshome @margoniezniez @im-gonna-love-you-forever

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mochis-cream · 3 months

Text

11:34 — song mingi ♡

・ sometimes you wonder what life decisions you’ve made that wound you up by this clowns side, but then again, you wouldn’t trade him for the world

s.mg x gn!reader ・ ateez ・ 에이티즈 ・ sfw ・ non!idol au ・ wc: exactly 600 ・ genre -> fluff, slice of life, slapstick ・ one shot! -> masterlist!

content warning: established relationship, collective sillies, mingi minging, princess mingi realness, cursing, lowercase intended, not proofread

author’s note: guys idk what happened!! one minute i was asleep and then the next i was awake at 3 in the morning writing this 😰😰 anyways mingi mingi mingi i love mingi mmrph (*´∇｀*)

‘CAUTION! DO NOT TOUCH!!’

you were certain that was the warning you gave. you were positive, actually, because you're looking at those words right now, written in your handwriting on a sticky note attached to a prank canister. the same prank canister that currently lies in the doorway, open at your feet, several feet away from the only other person in the room who could've opened it. the same person who currently lies on the floor, covered in confetti and fallen cereal, staring up at you like a deer caught in headlights.

"uh- princess? okay, what the fuck. what happened?" you ask, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably. the sight is both tragic and fucking hilarious: mingi, wide-eyed and looking like he’s just survived a cartoonish explosion, is splayed out in a sea of brightly colored paper and cheerios.

mingi looks up at you, still processing the events that led to his current predicament. “i... uh... think i touched something i shouldn’t have,” he says, his voice a mix of embarrassment and lingering shock.

you take a moment to survey the room. the open prank canister lies a few feet away, likely flung from mingi's hands during his moment of panic. “and by that you mean the thing that said ‘caution! do not touch!’ in big, bold letters? the thing with the warning written in my handwriting?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

he nods sheepishly. “uh yeah, that seems to be the case.”

you can't help it. the laughter bubbles up from deep inside you, and soon you're doubled over, clutching your stomach as you laugh uncontrollably. mingi watches you with a mix of amusement and annoyance, still covered in confetti and cereal, looking like the world's saddest party favor. a tried and true damsel in distress.

finally, you catch your breath and kneel down beside him. “my, princess, you really outdid yourself this time,” you say, wiping a tear from your eye. you start picking confetti out of his hair, still chuckling.

mingi huffs, sitting up and trying to shake off some of the cereal clinging to his clothes. “it’s not funny,” he mutters, but as much as he might complain, the corners of his mouth twitching upward speaks for itself.

“ah, yeah, you’re right. it’s absolutely hilarious,” you counter, pulling him to his feet. “why on earth would you touch something that i explicitly wrote ‘do not touch’ on?”

mingi shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “i dunno.”

you shake your head, still grinning. “there’s never a dull moment with you, is there?”

as you both start cleaning up the mess, you can't help but think about how your life with mingi has always been this way, full of surprises left and right. sure, not every surprise is a good one, but such is life. both of you have your own things to work out, and thing are never always perfect, but you wouldn’t trade this relationship for the world. besides, who else would provide such endless entertainment?

it’s funny really, how two completely different people can come to live and share their lives, and in the end create something beautiful despite the messes they make along the way.

as you scoop up handfuls of cereal and confetti, you glance over at mingi, who's trying (and failing) to stuff the prank canister back together, and it finally clicks. a thought that’ll stay with you until the day you die, ‘yeah, this is the goof i’m staying with for the rest of my life.’

truely, you couldn’t possibly be any happier. lucky you, huh?

#♡。 sio.txt #ateez #ateez mingi #song mingi #mingi x reader #mingi drabble #mingi imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #mingi fluff #ateez drabbles #ateez imagines

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tkaulitzlvr · 11 months

Text

THE WRONG WAY - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: tom hasn’t been paying you enough attention lately, and, when you finally snap, he can’t understand where you are coming from, until you reach your breaking point. can the issues between you and him be resolved?

content: angst

a/n: pulled this out of my ass lol, i had to rush it because i’m in the middle of another req but it’s nowhere near done after like three hours of writing so i’ll have to finish and post it tomorrow. sorry if there are mistakes, i only proofread veryyy briefly cause i’m so tired rn😭 hope this is okay tho!!

"you don't love me."

i voice the harsh words to the silent room, clearly and with every sense of belief behind my statement. to my discomfort, saying it out loud does not make me feel any more at ease, in fact seeing the way tom’s entire body breaks for a second, processing what i had just said, before trying to cover the hurt on his face up, only suffocates me even more. the lump in my throat only gets bigger, the tension in the air thickening by the second.

"wow." he begins, shaking his head, trying to wrap his head around how i could even come to that conclusion. "that’s an awful accusation." he glances at me, his eyes already glossy, giving me enough of an idea on how much i have hurt him by uttering those four words. however i stick to it, figuring that it is too late to back out now. within me, behind all the anger, all the upset, i feel that it is true. i sense that he no longer feels the same way he did when he met me, all those years ago, the love within his eyes slowly diminishing until it is now long gone.

"and also." he speaks, leaning forward and looking directly into my eyes, staying in his position spread on the end of the other couch. "it's not true. you know it isn't."

the pressure of his gaze leaves me unable to hold eye contact with him, looking away sheepishly into my lap, hoping that somehow the ground could swallow me up. i grit my teeth, locking my jaw in anger, feeling no reassurance from his quick denial of my statement. so i decide to challenge him, standing my ground despite the nausea only growing within me. though his voice seems somewhat certain, i refuse to believe that i am making it up, that it is all in my head. "do i though tom?"

my eyes meet his, except the ones looking into me are foreign. they are angry, a glint of hostility present within them that i had not yet witnessed, this change taking me aback, yet i refuse to look away. he is sad. those eyes, past the resentment in them, i see pain. i see sorrow. i have upset him, far beyond what he intends to let out. he is usually strong, and perhaps right now he thinks that he is keeping this up, yet i can read him like a book, the way his left brow furrows, creating a crease along his forehead, the way his eyes cannot focus on one thing, darting around the room, i can see that he is struggling. and whilst part of me hurts with him, hating to put him through any sort of distress, i need it right now. because i am tired of feeling unloved and unappreciated - regardless of whether tom intends to make me feel this way or not.

he shakes his head, scoffing slightly in disbelief, letting out a shaky sigh, before speaking up, his voice loud, in contrast to the silent room. "what, so i've been lying every single time i’ve told you that i love you, over the past six years that we've been together? mind you, i say that every day, without fail."

i stay silent, my eyes becoming glossy as they quickly tear away from his. he takes my silence as a cue to continue, my sudden belief that he does not love me angering him as he desperately seeks to remind me of every reason why i am in the wrong. "don't i do everything for you? make sure that you're always safe, give you my everything-"

"give me your money, you mean." i reply, cutting him off. i don’t want to seem ungrateful - i appreciate the way tom would spend any amount of money on me if it made me happy. i am thankful for the house he has given me, the vacations he takes me on, the things he buys me, but those things are not the reasons why i fell in love with him. i fell for tom kaulitz. not his money, not his fame, not his profession. i fell for who he is, for him as a person, whether he is rich or poor, yet it feels that day by day i lose a small part of that. i have always understood that his job means that he will be away a lot, but it is hard to be in a relationship with someone that can't always be there, only their fortunes can.

"i’m grateful for what you do for me, really i am, but i'd much rather have time with you than the latest gucci bag, or the newest chanel perfume. if it meant that i would have to live with nothing for the rest of my life, i would do it. don't you understand? i want you - not your money tom! i don't need you to apologise with gifts when i don’t see you all day, i just...i need you." i am desperate, craving for him to hear me out, to understand that it is him that i need, but the way he looks at me in confusion shows me that i am not going to achieve that.

"i thought you liked the things i buy for you. have you been lying?" he completely ignores the point that i have been trying to make, this only fuelling the frustration within me as i exhale shakily, quickly grasping onto the opportunity to argue my point once again.

"i do but that's not the point tom! i like them because i feel like it's all i get from you!" my voice is raising, something which i did not want to happen. shouting never solves the problem, however right now i am far too angry to care. "i just want some of your time, to feel like you actually care! when you're with me, you're here physically, but your mind is always elsewhere. i just miss you. i need to you be mine again, i-"

"look, i’m sorry okay?" he begins, harshly cutting me off and matching the volume in my voice. "i'm sorry that my job is more demanding than others, i’m sorry that it needs a lot of my attention, but i told you this from the beginning. my career is a big part of who i am and things aren't always easy. they get hard, they get tough, but-"

"that's my problem! when things get hard for you, i don't fucking know about it! because you shut me out, every. single. time. i'm your girlfriend, tom. i want to know about your life, i want to help you, but you always run away from me! you spoil me with gifts and money to compensate for every fucking time you leave me in the dark! i don't want it anymore. i just want you to communicate!" i move from the couch, walking to the middle of the room and standing a few feet away from him. his eyes are glued to me, watching my every step, and he is listening to me this time. "am i such a headache to be around, that you can't talk to me? that you can't deal with spending time with me, so instead you spend your money to try and shut me up, because you have so much that no matter what you buy, it doesn't affect you?"

"don't." he voices shakily as i stare into his eyes, his expression more wounded than ever. my words stab into him, hitting him harder than i had anticipated. his fists clench against his thighs, holding every ounce of frustration. though we have argued in the past, i have never seen him this upset, regardless of whether he intends to show it visibly or not. "you know that i don't think of you that way, even for a second. so stop."

"you can't blame me for thinking it tom." i shrug. "you leave me out of everything, i have no idea what's going on in your life anymore-"

“because i'm trying to fucking protect you!" he interrupts, raising his voice once again. his hand slams against the arm of the couch, the sudden contact causing me to wince slightly. "i'm sorry if you feel like i'm hiding things from you. but i know parts of my life would just stress you out and hurt you. don't you get that? i'm trying to save you from the pain-"

"i want the fucking pain!" i fire back. "we are supposed to be in a relationship. do you know what that means? i want to suffer with you. i would choose that, a million times over, if it meant that i could be with you for another day. i want every part of you, the sad, the happy, the angry, i want it all. can't you see that i need you? i hate being left in the dark. i absolutely fucking hate it.”

my voice pierces through his ears, diminishing the tense silence as tom gulps, clenching his jaw and leaning forwards, pinching his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. the rash and quick responses don’t allow me time to calm down, my eyes becoming glossy with tears, the salty liquid staining my cheeks before i can try to hold them back, my weakness just as evident as tom’s. the pain, the upset, the lack of affection that have been feeling all spills out, reeling outwards from within me as i let it out, no longer attempting to hold back.

he looks up, his face softening as he takes in my hurt expression. he has never seen me like this, so broken, and the fact that he is the cause of this pains him even more, his mind coming to the slow realisation that it is up to him to fix this. although he doesn’t fully understand how i could possibly believe that he does not love me, he wants to try, to try and see from my eyes. he lets out a shaky sigh, swallowing nervously before looking into my eyes.

"i would rather feel the sadness, suffer with you." i begin, my voice small as the tears quickly take away my physical strength. "i would do absolutely anything if it means that you will love me, that you will do it with me, tom."

"i don't live a normal life, and i just want to keep you away from the crazy things." he speaks slowly, trying to reason with me, refusing to turn his gaze away from mine. "some people want to hurt me, and i would never forgive myself if someone ever did anything to harm you."

i try to wipe my tears and calm my breathing, wrapping my arms around my small frame in an attempt to comfort myself, quickly becoming overwhelmed with the situation. but my mind acknowledges tom’s change in tone. not only is he more gentle and calm, he also seems sorry, like he now recognises where he went wrong.

"what do you want me to do?" he whispers, defeated as his tired eyes meet mine. he is no longer angry. he is desperate, longing to resolve this. "i'll do anything. i- i can't lose you. you're my world, schatz, and i'm sorry if i haven't shown it, but you are everything to me."

though there are millions of things i could say, i stay silent, standing still across the room. my heart clenches painfully, hurting at the sight of him so distraught, as his mind considers the dreaded idea of what losing me would be like. his world is crumbling before him, the one thing he seeks to protect seeming to slip through his fingers. i have never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so desperate, and whilst it comforts me to know that he is slowly letting down the walls that have prevented me from truly being with him, it saddens me to see him in such a distraught state.

"all i've ever wanted is to keep you safe. to keep you happy, liebe, because if you're happy then so am i. but you deserve more than this." he points to himself angrily, letting out a shaky sigh. "more than this fucking idiot, who doesn't even know how to love. i’m so sorry if i've done it the wrong way and made you feel like i don't care. because you shouldn't for a second think that i don't love you."

everything that i have been craving to see is happening in front of me. i have longed to see him open up, to break down the barriers that separate us both physically and mentally. i don’t want him to be strong all the time, and it hurts that he feels he has to be. the tears fall from my bloodshot eyes once again - this time out of sadness for him. i hurt with him, hating to see him so upset, but i understand his pain, his anger, and i feel every emotion along with him. for the first time in forever, i feel connected with him.

after a few moments of silence, he stands up, slowly walking towards me. i refuse to meet his gaze, fearing that i will break down once again i realise how hurt he truly is, and looking into his eyes will certainly display every emotion amongst his beautiful features. his hand brushes tenderly against my cheek, wiping a fresh tear that had fallen. he reaches towards my chin, using his pointer finger to angle my face upwards so it meets with his eyes. he towers over me, taking in the sorrow etched upon my face, before tucking the loose strands of hair behind my ears, gently caressing my cheek with his lips slightly parted, shaky breaths escaping from them.

"please, look at me." he whispers, gazing longingly into my eyes. i comply, shifting my own eyes to the deep brown ones in front of me. they are full of adoration, and i feel the man that i fell in love with slowly coming back to me. "i love you, so so much, please believe me schatz. you are the most important person in my life, and i am so sorry that i've made you feel the opposite way." he chokes up, his voice shaky as i can tell he is on the verge of tears.

i listen to him, allowing every word to sink in, as it is now no longer hard to trust what he says. i feel what i have been desperate to - love. i feel truly appreciated, like i am able to confide in him like i once could. though frustrated it took the both of us to get to this state to make him speak his mind, i appreciate him opening up, his apology making up for the lost time. there is no shame in being fragile, and through his entire conversation, we have both learned this, a new found appreciation for each other gained as i feel safe again.

"don't feel like you have to keep things to yourself. i’m your girlfriend, i'm supposed to be here for you, and i'll gladly do it, but you have to talk to me." i respond, lacing my hand with his. a soft smile spreads across his face, contrasting with his bloodshot eyes whilst he slowly nods.

"i hear you. i’m so sorry baby. i love you." he whispers, pulling me into a tight hug as his hands lace together around my waist. he lets out a sob onto my shoulder, my heart breaking at the sound. he clutches onto me tighter as if i may slip away, my own eyes tearing up once again. it has been a while since i felt like this. i feel loved, and it is all that i have ever wanted from the start.

he slowly pulls away, resting his forehead against mine and looking into my eyes through his eyelashes. after a few seconds, he leans inwards, until his lips touch mine. the kiss is gentle, carrying every promise to love and cherish me like he has failed to do, and i gladly accept it, kissing back quickly and wrapping my arms around his neck. he pulls away, planting a few pecks on my lips once again, his breath shaky as the remnants of tears stick to his cheeks. i slowly wipe them away, not breaking eye contact as i do so, gently caressing the soft skin until any trace of sadness is lost within our newfound love for each other.

a soft smile graces his lips, failing to wither as he kisses me once again, the same amount of passion as the last, making up for the lost affection as i feel more treasured than ever. this is all I have ever wanted, to feel like he cares, and now that i am feeling his affection, my mind is oozing with contentment, the feeling almost foreign it has been so long.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

#tom kaulitz #kaulitz twins #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz angst #kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #tomkaulitz #tom kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz

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codingquill · 1 year

Text

JavaScript Fundamentals

I have recently completed a course that extensively covered the foundational principles of JavaScript, and I'm here to provide you with a concise overview. This post will enable you to grasp the fundamental concepts without the need to enroll in the course.

Prerequisites: Fundamental HTML Comprehension

Before delving into JavaScript, it is imperative to possess a basic understanding of HTML. Knowledge of CSS, while beneficial, is not mandatory, as it primarily pertains to the visual aspects of web pages.

Manipulating HTML Text with JavaScript

When it comes to modifying text using JavaScript, the innerHTML function is the go-to tool. Let's break down the process step by step:

Initiate the process by selecting the HTML element whose text you intend to modify. This selection can be accomplished by employing various DOM (Document Object Model) element selection methods offered by JavaScript ( I'll talk about them in a second )

Optionally, you can store the selected element in a variable (we'll get into variables shortly).

Employ the innerHTML function to substitute the existing text with your desired content.

Element Selection: IDs or Classes

You have the opportunity to enhance your element selection by assigning either an ID or a class:

Assigning an ID:

To uniquely identify an element, the .getElementById() function is your go-to choice. Here's an example in HTML and JavaScript:

HTML:

<button id="btnSearch">Search</button>

JavaScript:

document.getElementById("btnSearch").innerHTML = "Not working";

This code snippet will alter the text within the button from "Search" to "Not working."

Assigning a Class:

For broader selections of elements, you can assign a class and use the .querySelector() function. Keep in mind that this method can select multiple elements, in contrast to .getElementById(), which typically focuses on a single element and is more commonly used.

Variables

Let's keep it simple: What's a variable? Well, think of it as a container where you can put different things—these things could be numbers, words, characters, or even true/false values. These various types of stuff that you can store in a variable are called DATA TYPES.

Now, some programming languages are pretty strict about mentioning these data types. Take C and C++, for instance; they're what we call "Typed" languages, and they really care about knowing the data type.

But here's where JavaScript stands out: When you create a variable in JavaScript, you don't have to specify its data type or anything like that. JavaScript is pretty laid-back when it comes to data types.

So, how do you make a variable in JavaScript?

There are three main keywords you need to know: var, let, and const.

But if you're just starting out, here's what you need to know :

const: Use this when you want your variable to stay the same, not change. It's like a constant, as the name suggests.

var and let: These are the ones you use when you're planning to change the value stored in the variable as your program runs.

Note that var is rarely used nowadays

Check this out:

let Variable1 = 3; var Variable2 = "This is a string"; const Variable3 = true;

Notice how we can store all sorts of stuff without worrying about declaring their types in JavaScript. It's one of the reasons JavaScript is a popular choice for beginners.

Arrays

Arrays are a basically just a group of variables stored in one container ( A container is what ? a variable , So an array is also just a variable ) , now again since JavaScript is easy with datatypes it is not considered an error to store variables of different datatypeslet

for example :

myArray = [1 , 2, 4 , "Name"];

Objects in JavaScript

Objects play a significant role, especially in the world of OOP : object-oriented programming (which we'll talk about in another post). For now, let's focus on understanding what objects are and how they mirror real-world objects.

In our everyday world, objects possess characteristics or properties. Take a car, for instance; it boasts attributes like its color, speed rate, and make.

So, how do we represent a car in JavaScript? A regular variable won't quite cut it, and neither will an array. The answer lies in using an object.

const Car = { color: "red", speedRate: "200km", make: "Range Rover" };

In this example, we've encapsulated the car's properties within an object called Car. This structure is not only intuitive but also aligns with how real-world objects are conceptualized and represented in JavaScript.

Variable Scope

There are three variable scopes : global scope, local scope, and function scope. Let's break it down in plain terms.

Global Scope: Think of global scope as the wild west of variables. When you declare a variable here, it's like planting a flag that says, "I'm available everywhere in the code!" No need for any special enclosures or curly braces.

Local Scope: Picture local scope as a cozy room with its own rules. When you create a variable inside a pair of curly braces, like this:

//Not here { const Variable1 = true; //Variable1 can only be used here } //Neither here

Variable1 becomes a room-bound secret. You can't use it anywhere else in the code

Function Scope: When you declare a variable inside a function (don't worry, we'll cover functions soon), it's a member of an exclusive group. This means you can only name-drop it within that function. .

So, variable scope is all about where you place your variables and where they're allowed to be used.

Adding in user input

To capture user input in JavaScript, you can use various methods and techniques depending on the context, such as web forms, text fields, or command-line interfaces.We’ll only talk for now about HTML forms

HTML Forms:

You can create HTML forms using the <;form> element and capture user input using various input elements like text fields, radio buttons, checkboxes, and more.

JavaScript can then be used to access and process the user's input.

Functions in JavaScript

Think of a function as a helpful individual with a specific task. Whenever you need that task performed in your code, you simply call upon this capable "person" to get the job done.

Declaring a Function: Declaring a function is straightforward. You define it like this:

function functionName() { // The code that defines what the function does goes here }

Then, when you need the function to carry out its task, you call it by name:

functionName();

Using Functions in HTML: Functions are often used in HTML to handle events. But what exactly is an event? It's when a user interacts with something on a web page, like clicking a button, following a link, or interacting with an image.

Event Handling: JavaScript helps us determine what should happen when a user interacts with elements on a webpage. Here's how you might use it:

HTML:

<button onclick="FunctionName()" id="btnEvent">Click me</button>

JavaScript:

function FunctionName() { var toHandle = document.getElementById("btnEvent"); // Once I've identified my button, I can specify how to handle the click event here }

In this example, when the user clicks the "Click me" button, the JavaScript function FunctionName() is called, and you can specify how to handle that event within the function.

Arrow functions : is a type of functions that was introduced in ES6, you can read more about it in the link below

If Statements

These simple constructs come into play in your code, no matter how advanced your projects become.

If Statements Demystified: Let's break it down. "If" is precisely what it sounds like: if something holds true, then do something. You define a condition within parentheses, and if that condition evaluates to true, the code enclosed in curly braces executes.

If statements are your go-to tool for handling various scenarios, including error management, addressing specific cases, and more.

Writing an If Statement:

if (Variable === "help") { console.log("Send help"); // The console.log() function outputs information to the console }

In this example, if the condition inside the parentheses (in this case, checking if the Variable is equal to "help") is true, the code within the curly braces gets executed.

Else and Else If Statements

Else: When the "if" condition is not met, the "else" part kicks in. It serves as a safety net, ensuring your program doesn't break and allowing you to specify what should happen in such cases.

Else If: Now, what if you need to check for a particular condition within a series of possibilities? That's where "else if" steps in. It allows you to examine and handle specific cases that require unique treatment.

Styling Elements with JavaScript

This is the beginner-friendly approach to changing the style of elements in JavaScript. It involves selecting an element using its ID or class, then making use of the .style.property method to set the desired styling property.

Example:

Let's say you have an HTML button with the ID "myButton," and you want to change its background color to red using JavaScript. Here's how you can do it:

HTML: <button id="myButton">Click me</button>

JavaScript:

// Select the button element by its ID const buttonElement = document.getElementById("myButton"); // Change the background color property buttonElement.style.backgroundColor = "red";

In this example, we first select the button element by its ID using document.getElementById("myButton"). Then, we use .style.backgroundColor to set the background color property of the button to "red." This straightforward approach allows you to dynamically change the style of HTML elements using JavaScript.

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