#It was utterly confusing and a bit dull

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　PERIOD DISTURB

spencer reid x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N's cramps decide to appear during the night, forcing her to go to the pharmacy to buy medicine; or not, that's Spencer's duty.

WARNING: Period cramps, extremely fluff.

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: First time finally posting for Spencer. Had that idea during the night while being almost killed by my period 🙏🏻😭

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The room was quiet and dark, bathed in the soft, silver light of the moon filtering through the curtains. Y/N lay in bed, cocooned under the covers, her body curled in on itself as a dull, persistent pain radiated through her abdomen. Her breathing was shallow, each exhale a quiet, measured release that belied the turmoil of discomfort brewing inside her.

Spencer's arm was draped protectively over her, his body warm and solid against her back, his slow, rhythmic breathing, the only sound in the room. Despite his reassuring presence, Y/N couldn't shake the pain that twisted her insides like a vise, each cramp rolling over her in relentless waves.

She shifted slightly, trying to find a position that would offer some relief, but the movement only seemed to intensify the discomfort. Y/N bit down on her lower lip, stifling a groan that threatened to slip past. The last thing she wanted was to wake Spencer. He had only returned home a few hours ago, exhausted from a grueling case that had kept him away for days. He needed the rest, and she couldn't bear the thought of disturbing his well-deserved sleep.

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes softening as they landed on his peaceful, sleeping form. His face was relaxed, free of the lines of worry and stress that so often creased his brow. His hair was tousled, his lips slightly parted, and he looked so serene, so utterly at peace, that Y/N felt a pang of guilt for even considering waking him.

Carefully, she began to extricate herself from his embrace, inch by inch, her movements slow and deliberate. She held her breath, pausing each time Spencer stirred slightly, her eyes fixed on his face, waiting for any sign that he was waking up. When his breathing remained steady, she continued, finally slipping free from the warmth of his body.

The room was cooler outside the cocoon of blankets, and a shiver ran through her as her feet touched the cold floor. Y/N pressed a hand to her abdomen, wincing at the sharp twinge of pain that followed. She needed to get to the pharmacy to pick up some painkillers that would help dull the ache enough for her to get some rest.

She moved quietly across the room, gathering a pair of sweatpants and an old sweater from Spencer from their shared closet. Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled the sweater over her head, the fabric catching on her hair. She grimaced, tugging it down and slipping her feet into her sneakers, each movement sending a jolt of pain through her abdomen.

Y/N made her way to the door, pausing to glance back at Spencer, still asleep, his chest rising and falling in a slow, even rhythm. She felt a pang of affection mixed with guilt, knowing she should have taken care of this sooner, knowing that she should have restocked her medicine cabinet days ago. But life had been busy, and she had been distracted. Now, she was paying the price.

Just as her hand reached for the doorknob, Spencer’s voice, thick with sleep, cut through the silence like a knife.

"Y/N?" He mumbled, his voice groggy and confused. "Where are you going?"

Y/N froze, her heart skipping a beat. She turned to find Spencer propping himself up on one elbow, his eyes still heavy with sleep, blinking at her in the dim light. His brow was furrowed, concern already etching lines into his features as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

"Hi baby... I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you." She said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I’m just going to run to the pharmacy real quick. I’ll be back before you know it."

Spencer’s puppy eyes widened slightly, the fog of sleep clearing as worry took its place.

"The pharmacy?" He repeated, his voice hoarse. "What’s going on? Why do you need to go to the pharmacy at this hour?"

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. She hated making him worry and hated seeing the lines of concern deepen on his face. But she also knew there was no use in hiding the truth. Spencer was too perceptive for that.

"I’m having really bad cramps." She admitted, her voice laced with a hint of the pain she was trying to suppress. "I ran out of painkillers, and I just need to get some so I can sleep."

Spencer’s expression shifted immediately, his concern morphing into something more protective, more determined. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, pushing himself upright.

"What? Honey, you’re not going anywhere." He said firmly, his voice still thick with sleep but gaining strength. He stood up, his tall frame looming over her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Not in this pain, and not in the middle of the night. You should be lying down, resting, not wandering around, looking for medicine."

Y/N blinked at him, momentarily taken aback by the force of his response.

"Spencer, it’s really okay." She began, trying to sound reassuring. "I can handle it. I didn’t want to wake you because you need your rest. I’ll just go quickly and-"

"No." Spencer interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. He crossed the room in a few strides, his hands coming to rest gently on her shoulders, guiding her away from the door. "You shouldn’t have to handle this alone, and you definitely shouldn’t be out there at this time of night, especially when you’re in pain." His hands slid up to cup her face, his thumbs brushing lightly over her cheeks. "I’m going to go get what you need, okay? You stay here and rest."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the concern that softened his features, the gentle resolve that made her heart ache with love.

"Spence, I don’t want to be a burden." She said quietly, her voice wavering. "You’ve been working so hard, and I just didn’t want to trouble you."

Spencer’s expression softened even more, a small, affectionate smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You could never be a burden, love." He said softly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to her forehead. "Taking care of you isn’t trouble. It’s what I want to do. Please, let me do this for you."

Tears pricked at the corners of Y/N’s eyes, the warmth of his words seeping into her and mixing with her period emotions, soothing more than just the physical pain. She nodded slowly, unable to find the words to express what she was feeling. Spencer’s smile widened, relief washing over his features. He pressed another kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back.

"Okay." He said, his voice gentle. "Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to lie back down, and I’m going to heat up your hot water bottle. Then I’ll run to the pharmacy, and when I get back, I’ll make you some tea. Deal?"

Y/N couldn’t help the small, grateful smile that spread across her face.

"Deal." She agreed softly. She allowed Spencer to guide her back to the bed, his hands gentle but firm as he helped her settle under the covers.

He moved to the closet, pulling out the hot water bottle they kept for days like this, his movements efficient and practiced. As he moved, Y/N watched him, her heart swelling with love and gratitude. Even in the early hours of the morning, groggy with sleep, he was focused, his only concern making sure she was comfortable.

When he returned from the kitchen, he carefully placed the bottle over her abdomen, the soothing heat immediately offering some relief. Y/N sighed softly, closing her eyes as the warmth seeped into her muscles, easing the tension that had been building for hours.

Spencer sat on the edge of the bed, his hand resting lightly on the warmth provived, his eyes studying her face for any signs of discomfort.

"Better?" He asked quietly, his voice gentle.

Y/N nodded, her eyes fluttering open to meet his.

"Much better." She murmured, reaching out to take his hand. "Thank you, Spence."

Spencer smiled, his thumb brushing over her knuckles.

"Don’t thank me yet." He said softly. "I’ll be back in a bit. Just rest, okay?" He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her plump lips, lingering for a moment before pulling away.

Y/N watched as he slipped on his shoes, grabbed his keys, and headed for the bedroom door, casting one last glance at her before he disappeared into the hallway.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Y/N lay back against the pillows, a sense of calm washing over her. The pain was still there, a dull ache beneath the warmth of the bottle, but Spencer’s presence, his care, had made it more bearable. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax, knowing that he would be back soon.

It wasn’t long before the door creaked open, and Y/N’s eyes fluttered open to see Spencer stepping back into the room, a small bag in his hand. He moved quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace, his eyes softening as they met hers.

"Hi, sweetheart. I’m back." He whispered, his voice a soothing balm. He set the bag on the nightstand, pulling out a bottle of painkillers and a bottle of water.

Spencer moved with the gentle precision of someone who knew every corner of the room, even in the dim light. He popped open the bottle of painkillers and shook two tablets into his hand. His gaze never left Y/N's face, his eyes filled with concern and care. He handed her the pills, then uncapped the water, holding it steady as she sat up slightly to take a sip.

Y/N swallowed the pills, her throat dry despite the water. Spencer's hand lingered on hers, his touch warm and reassuring. She gave him a grateful smile, feeling the tension in her muscles ease under his touch. He set the water bottle back on the nightstand and then leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. The gesture was so tender, so full of love, that it made Y/N’s heart ache in the best possible way.

"Thank you, Spence." She murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Spencer’s eyes softened, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek.

"You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. I just want to make sure you’re okay." He leaned back, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand still resting on her arm. "I’m sorry you’re in pain. I wish I could do more to help."

Y/N shook her head, her eyes shining.

"You being here helps more than you know. Just having you with me makes everything better." She reached up, her fingers grazing the stubble on his jaw, her touch gentle. "I’m so lucky to have you."

Spencer’s expression softened, his eyes searching hers. He took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.

"I’m the lucky one." He whispered, his voice low and sincere. "You’re everything to me, Y/N. Taking care of you isn’t a burden. It’s a privilege."

Y/N smiled softly, pulling Spencer down beside her, needing to feel his warmth, to be close to him. He settled against her, his arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her close. Y/N rested her head on his chest, her ear over his heart, listening to the steady, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. His other hand found its way to her hair, his fingers running through the strands in a soothing, repetitive motion.

They lay like that for a while, the quiet of the night wrapping around them like a blanket. The pain in Y/N’s abdomen was still there, but it felt distant, overshadowed by the warmth and safety of Spencer’s embrace. She closed her eyes, her body relaxing against his, her breathing slowing to match his. With every beat of his heart, with every gentle stroke of his hand, she felt herself drifting closer to sleep, the pain dulling under the weight of his love.

Spencer held her close, his chin resting on the top of her head, his eyes closed. He listened to her breathing, felt the rise and fall of her chest against his, and felt a sense of peace settle over him. It was moments like this, quiet and intimate, that he cherished the most. Knowing that he could be there for her, that he could offer her comfort, made him feel whole.

After a while, Y/N’s breathing deepened, the tension in her body easing as sleep claimed her. Spencer continued to hold her, his hand never stopping its gentle movement through her hair. He pressed another soft kiss to her forehead, his heart full.

"I love you." He whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "More than life ifself."

Y/N stirred slightly, a soft, sleepy murmur escaping her lips, but she didn’t wake. Spencer smiled, his heart swelling with affection. He knew that she probably didn’t hear him, but that was okay. He would have plenty of opportunities to tell her again and again.

He glanced at the clock on the nightstand, the digital numbers glowing softly in the dark. It was well past two in the morning, but Spencer didn’t care. He could stay like this forever, with Y/N in his arms, the world outside forgotten.

Spencer lay there, his thoughts drifting, his hand continuing its gentle motion through Y/N’s hair. He knew that the painkillers would kick in soon, that she would wake up feeling better. And when she did, he would be there, ready to make her breakfast, to share a quiet morning together before the rest of the world intruded.

As the minutes ticked by, Spencer’s own eyes grew heavy, the events of the day catching up to him. But he fought against the pull of sleep, wanting to stay awake, to be there for Y/N if she needed him. He tightened his hold on her slightly, his hand slipping from her hair to rest against her back, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing.

Eventually, his own exhaustion won out, and he drifted into a light sleep, his body still curled protectively around Y/N. Even in sleep, his mind stayed attuned to her, his senses alert for any sign of distress. But there was none. The painkillers had done their job, and Y/N slept soundly, her body relaxed and at ease.

The night passed quietly, the room filled with the soft sounds of their breathing, the steady ticking of the clock, the occasional rustle of the sheets as one of them shifted. The world outside remained silent, the streets empty, the city asleep. Inside their little haven, time seemed to stand still, wrapped in the cocoon of their love.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[nyctoaerah]

MY GORGEOUS QUEEN, CAN WE PLEASE GET A SNEAKPEEK ON YOUR PROCESS ON REMINISCENT if you have a draft already?🥺🥺🥺🥺 I AM SO DESPERATE RN

PLEASE

PLEASE

PLEASE

PLEASE

PLEASE

PLEASE

PLEASE

⋆♱⋆REMINISCENT

SYPNOSIS: ⋆♱⋆Satoru loves Suguru deeply and he misses the latter so much, so how could he let go off you? How could he let a pretty little thing like you slip through his fingers when you’re literally just like suguru?

WARNINGS: Yandere Behavior (Duh) Abuse, blood, coercion, non-con kiss, Satoru himself is already a warning, Satoru has Capgras delusion disorder.

PAIRINGS: Yandere! Satoru Gojo x Fem! Reader + Implied Satosugu

PART ONE

“C’mon open up... Suguru..”

He says, getting agitated with your attitude.

Pain shot through your jaw like lightning as satoru pried it open with force, his thick fingers stretching the hinges past their limit.

Reflexively, you clamped down with all your might, grinding your teeth against his calloused flesh. But still he persisted, widening the divide between until you feared your face may rip in two.

Through blurred tears you saw his nails sink deep into your tender gums, and the metallic taste of blood began to fill your stretching cavity. 

You felt violated and utterly helpless.

“S-satoru! S-stop p-please—”

A strangled cry barely escaped your constricted throat as you thrashed around wildly on the binds that he had used on you.

His fingers withdrew slowly from between your lips, coated heavily with your glistening saliva and you coughed wildly, mouth feeling like it was set on fire.

He hummed low in appreciation, murmuring almost to himself “Hmm...your mouth is wide enough, to fit it in, I think...” before leaning in to press a lingering, open-mouthed kiss to your lips. 

You whimpered softly, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as a pained cry built in your throat, stifled only by the invasion of his tongue thrusting past your teeth. Powerless to resist, your body felt weak and limp.

Questions corroded your mind as he continued his one-sided make out session with you. What the fuck did you do to earn such “affection”?

Why did everything have to go south? What did you do to deserve this?

You were there for him when he was at his lowest, why is he treating you like this?

It hurts so much, the way he’s calling you suguru, the way that he keeps on saying that you’re suguru in disguise.. it was all disgusting.

He seemed so obsessed with the man and forgot that you’re his girlfriend and not his bestfriend.

He finally withdrew from the kiss and you could’ve been more glad, you looked up at him with teary eyes and his face was a bit flushed, lust obvious in his eyes.

“so good... mm you always taste so good, love...”

He then placed two of his fingers on your chesks and you barely recognized the feeling until a dull throb radiated from your cheek.

“Such soft skin... So pretty... Feels like i wanna carve my name in them...”

You tried to recoil from his touch, but his fingers held firm, grinding  into the soft skin.

A hum escaped his lips as his pupil dilates slightly as he watched your blood flow over his fingertips and trickle down your jawline.

Satoru grins the moment he sees you bleed.

“See? You bleed just like him, my god, you really are suguru’s incarnate... Such a pretty little thing..”

He cooed, leaning in so you felt his hot breath ghost over the wound. 

He was so fucking delusional that it's scary.

You sobbed.

What did you even do to receive this kind of treatment?

What did you ever do to him?

Were you a bad girlfriend?

Didn't you make him feel loved?

Did you—

Your eyes dilated perceptibly as a strange sensation registered upon your lip, eliciting an involuntary mewl of fear and confusion from somewhere deep within your constricted throat. Satoru was prodding—a black colored sphere with orange smudges on your mouth . 

“You can consume this too, right baby? Your mouth is wide enough to swallow it after all ”

You froze and all you could do is watch as he practically pries your mouth open and forces you to swallow the orb.

His obsession stole the man you knew.

And he did all of this, just because you were reminiscent of suguru.

© 𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐪 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚 𝐛𝐜𝐬 𝐢 𝐛𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭...

[evenmorefatallyobsessed]

Toga’s AU Concept

He visited Sanctum on a whim, he was in Mistral visiting his niece Saphron after all, why not visit the school that was training it’s future protectors… Was it truly chance that it happened when he got there at that moment. That he stumbled upon the horrified students backing away from a scene from a horror movie.

A girl over a boy, her skin pale, hair a dull gold but utterly contrast by the crimson of the boy beneath her, of his blood leaking, his eyes wide in equal parts horror and confusion as the girl above him drank deeply. Her aura lighting, brightening with every drop more she drunk.

But from her eyes another purely liquid dripped, tears that contradicted the madness in her eyes, others stood confused. But not him, never him, he didn’t hesitate, to hesitate was the let others suffer. The girl moved with surprising grace, avoiding him while her features altered, matching her victim’s.

His hand reached out as he enforced his soul into him, willing thew boy’s body to mend though his soul’s light. The second he saw the student’s face gain some of it’s blush ensured his life her turned on her and launched after the girl.

She’d been smart to run instead of fight, it was a fight she wouldn’t win, couldn’t win, but escaping was just a futile. She was fast, agile and athletic yes, but he was a skilled tracker. If she was faster, he just had to rely on endurance to carry him through.

And it did…

She’d been locked up, and they were debating her sentence, the sentence for an aura user with combat training, she was a threat. And perhaps he should’ve left it well enough alone, but he didn’t, and spoke to her.

And he realized the tragic madness that spurred her on. Toga Himiko was not a monster, she was a girl, gifted with a powerful Semblance, great potential and an honest easily corruptible heart. One’s semblance could influence a persons personality quite easily. After all, it was the manifest of your being, of your soul. How could you not begin to ponder its meaning, how could you not attempt to reflect it’s nature on your person, within your actions.

She was dangerous yes, unstable without a doubt… But, she was also alone, her family couldn’t understand her and feared her for it. Somewhere inside he knew she understood her sense of love was twisted. Was not the norm, after all, why else would she have cried when expressing it.

This was no monster, no villain of demon, she was a girl, a pitiful, lonely, misunderstood child who wanted nothing more then to express her love the only way she could. They way her very soul demanded she act out. All she wanted was a connection, was someone to understand her, was to have friends, family and a love that could accept her deviant nature, a nature she had no control of.

How could he call himself a Huntsman if he couldn’t save a single girl from her crippling, cruel loneliness. So he visited her, again and again, using his pull and connection with Ozpin to freeze the freeze the girl’s sentencing while he worked things out.

She started to look forward to meeting him, and he’d admit to the same, after all she was so cheerful and oddly endearing. If not for her eyes being amber instead of blue he’d had thought her one of his nieces.

Apparently after he started visiting regularly she ceased any resisting and even halted trying to escape, he started to bring her things, even cooking for the girl. Not helping but to feel she needed food a bit better then what they served here.

… He hadn’t expected her to cry, she, she couldn’t remember then last time her mom had made her food… The last time they treated her like a daughter instead of a Grimm. It angered him, it infuriated the Arc. But he held his tongue, and focused on what mattered.

On calling in favors, on talking to his family and getting his affairs in order, Jaune was many things, he was a Huntsman, next in line to be patriarch to the Arc House and a teacher at Beacon. But he was also a criminal who’d cheated his way into Beacon once upon a time. His hands had cut down men, his decisions as a leader had led to the death of innocents before as well.

Toga almost killed a boy, she needed help, needed understanding, to be given a chance. And he was all to willing to risk giving her one.

-0-0-0-

She tried to be normal, to live normally, to act normally, to love normally, she tried so hard, it was also such a struggle, other people’s normal. Other people being able to express themselves, to be themselves and be accepted for it. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right, why couldn’t her way be normal… Why couldn’t she be accepted?

Why couldn’t her parents understand her, accept her, but no, they told her it was wrong, that to be so fascinated by blood was wrong, sick and twisted. That she needed to be normal… Were they saying her soul was wrong? She could feel it, ever since her semblance first manifested, since she stumbled upon it so long ago when she’d licked her wound…

Blood was to the body what aura was to the soul, it was beautiful, profound and unique to every person, and she, she could understand it, could indulge, could become others through their blood, she could understand them, be them… It was her normal.

But her parents refused to accept her normal, society refused it, the world and everyone in it refused it… She obeyed, she tried, she struggled to be everyone else’s normal… Until she met him.

Saito was a amazing boy, he was kind, smart and popular, everyone liked him, everyone respected him, just like a lot of other girls she grew to like him. So often she fought the urge to ask him for some of his blood, she wanted to be like him, to know him, to Become him…

But she smothered those urges, because she knew he could not accept them, nobody could accept a freak like her so she resisted the urge. She fought to stay ‘Normal’ To be a average, cheerful, reasonable, well-mannered girl that others could accept, even if it was all a act…

But then Saito got into a fight, and seeing him like that… so wonderfully bruised and bloodied, it made what was so twisted inside go crazy. And it all came crashing down… And she was upon him, moving on not instinct but pure natural movement, as unconsciously as one breathed she gave to her semblance’s nature.

His flesh parting so easily from a mere box cutter, his aura was shattered in the fight with other beforehand. She drunk from him, his blood tasting like the sweetest of irons, so warm, so filling, so unique to him and him alone…

It was ecstasy, finally, finally she got to be herself, she was able to express her love, she felt herself turning into him. His aura, his soul, his being, she understood it so much more in that moment. She knew it was all over, her life, all her efforts, they would come crashing down. But for just a moment, she wanted it, to be her own normal, to be herself…

And then he appeared, he saved Saito, and stopped her, his gaze held so much in it, there was the anger and disgust she expected, but also something new… Pity.

His name was Jaune Arc, he was a Huntsman, a professor, and he stopped her, but he didn’t stop there. He should up to met her in her jail cell, they talked, well, he talked, asking why she did it. And eventually she explained… And, and he listened.

He didn’t understand, but… But he tried to, he asked more, and she could see it, the disgust this anger and confusion, but never was that all she saw. She could see him trying, struggling to comprehend. Time and time again he’d visit, and talk to her, ask her question she’d never considered, asked if she thought what she did was okay.

She knew it wasn’t you can’t force your love on others, but he understood, not because it was normal to him, or because he was like her. No, because he tried to do what nobody else did… He tried to understand her.

He wanted to help her, and then he asked.

“Toga, I need to hear you say it, where you trying to kill Saito?” She knew he needed to hear her say it, so she did.

“No, I just, I wanted to express my love…” And then he told her.

“Toga, you’re not normal, but that’s okay, everyone is different, it’s what makes us unique, what makes life beautiful.” He hugged her.

“You’re not a monster, or a Grimm, your human, and you’ve been through so much.” He was warm… The words slipped from her mouth.

“Please, can I, can I drink your blood.” He paused and she knew she’d be rejected, pushed away and left alone…

“Toga, listen.” But she wasn’t rejected, pushed away, instead the man met her gaze, a sternness in his gaze but also a sympathy, one she’d never seen before.

“You don’t behave like others, and it can be dangerous.” She knew that, of course she did.

“But it doesn’t have to be.” He begun to glow, a soft, kind but powerful white.

“I know, you can help people, more than even I can with your semblance.” His big, calloused hand landed on her head.

“The same way you can take other’s blood, if you gave your love back, you could help so many people.” She shook, she’d thought that too, but, but never hoped others would, would.

“You’re not a monster, twisted or evil Toga, your just different, your semblance, your soul, your beautiful.” It was the smile of a father, of someone who genuinely wanted nothing more than to help her, then to comfort the girl who’d spent her entire if not short life being rejected by others.

“Himiko, I can’t just let you free, unfortunately the law is very clear on that.” She saw the sadness, the anger in his eyes, it was for her sake. But soon enough they were both overtaken by what she would come to know was his most prominent trait, Determination.

“If you agree to it, to come to Vale you can be put on Probation, under my supervision. I’’ be your guardian and probationary officer.” She knew her parents must’ve given up their rights to her by the slight anger that burned in his eyes.

“We’ll attend therapy lessons and you’ll be taught about aura control by me.” He reached into his pocket and pulled it out then, a vial, the most beautiful shade of red.

“Toga, I know the way you view things are different then mine own, but that doesn’t mean you can’t understand me, you lived in this world, acted appropriately for it as well. You understand how the general public views love.” He offered her the vial, the beautiful crimson flowing with his aura, with his soul.

“I can’t promise others will accept your views, or even try, but I promise, at the very least I will do everything I can to make a environment you can be yourself in… And that I’ll try my best to understand you.” She reached, her fingers grazing the glass, the vial warm… Her heart pounded as she looked to the beautiful crimson.

Slowly, cautiously she undid the top, he never looked away from her, never tore his gaze from the sight, there was no rejection as she took him into her. As she felt his soul through his aura, as his being and iron went down her throat becoming one with her.

She felt herself change, becoming him, her pale ash-blonde hair becoming a shade of livid golden-wheat, her fair skin pinking with a healthy flush. The slits of her pupils dilating, the Faunus trait vanishing as her pupils rounded and turned the most expressive blue.

Her aura converting, her soul changing and being replicating that as her very body matched the new soul she was temporarily hosting. And he looked at her through it all, reaching out and patting her head, the smile was genuine.

“If this is how you want to be that’s fine, I’ll learn to get used to it, but please, don’t stop being yourself, even if your appearance changes.” From his hand aura surged into her, his aura, given freely, pure and unfiltered.

Her answer finally came alongside the tears.

“Yes.”

-0-0-0-

She rushed down the hall from her room, excited for the day she’d looked forward to for so long, she couldn’t wait. Reaching the kitchen she found three people there, her sister and brother, Ren and Nora, two others he’d taken under his wing.

At the stove flipping the immense amount of pancakes the Valkyrie craved was Jaune, they waved to her, well Jaune and Nora did. Ren sat patiently at his seat enjoying his tea, she sat there beside them, besides two people who knew her, truly knew her, who accepted her almost as much as Jaune.

Two simple years was all she spent with him, but in those two years she’d felt more joy, more acceptance then ever before. She’d realized truths about herself and flaws in her actions.

She was free to express her love, but not to enforce it on others, to take from people who did not want to return her affections. It was wrong, cruel and that act whether it be her form of expressing love or ordinary expression of it by others were no less disgusting.

She’d help so many people with her feelings though, a little blood and she’d given so much back in turn, to children who needed it, to people with unique cases and blood types meant nothing to her semblance with regular people. She couldn’t help but want to help, even if Jaune worried, she loved him for that… She loved him, loved him more then others. More then anyone else.

But it wasn’t the same type of love she always felt, always knew, no, this was different, she wanted to both love him and be loved by him. To be loved as Toga Himiko, by Jaune, she didn’t want him to conform to her standard of love.

It wouldn’t be fair, it’d be like who she was forced to follow the standard society before she met him, she wanted to love Jaune as herself but also as him whenever the fancy struck her. But she also wanted to love him as Ren did, as Nora did, as so many of his students did…

And soon, she would be able to, today would be the start of it, a plated landed in front of her then, and looking up she met his smile.

“Are you ready Toga, your three will be trying out for Beacon today after all. So you all need to eat up.” He served her her breakfast, more than Ren’s but nothing near the mountain of pancakes he placed before her eccentric sister. But then again the pile her put before himself was barely any smaller. He needed it after all, because he regularly gave her blood, regularly accepted her form of expressing it and indulged that aspect of her.

She loved him for it, wanted to love him even more, even deeper, more intimately then any other, and once she passed Initiation she would. She only hoped that when she did succeed, her partner would be as understanding as her.

Maybe even being able to understand her love, Or Better Yet! Maybe They’ll Love Jaune As Much As She Does! Oh ‘Giggle’ she meant Professor Arc.

[thebadboyfanclub]

Lady Wife Falling Asleep Headcanon (Aemond, Aegon, Daemon, Jacaerys)

I haven’t written a headcanon in a minute so I wanted to give you guys a story that explained what I think they would do, hopefully you enjoy my take on it

-

AEMOND

Everyone was raving about the tourney, it was Aemonds name day so the celebrations were in full effect, (y/n) on the other hand as much as she adored her husband she would be content with laying in bed by his side. Slowly but surely her eyelids felt too heavy to be open and (y/n)s head hung a bit to the side.

Aemond was always a man that noticed details so it didn’t take long for him to realize (y/n) has drifted to slumber, alarmed by just how tired his lady wife was and torn between taking her in his arms or staying at the name of duty, he simply raised his hand for her sworn knight to come closer.

“Take her in our chambers, call the maester, and let him know of this incident”

The knight only nodded before he took her away as gently as possible, Aemond was aware that if he left it would seem inappropriate, his mothers' hawk eyes were already on him so he felt it was best to have his lady wife taken to a more comfortable and private setting while he suffered through the tourney.

AEGON

Aegon always scoffed at small council meetings, however once in a while he would attend just so he can get his mother and grandsire off his back, albeit having his (y/n) by his side made it less boring.

He was holding (y/n)s hand the whole time and sometimes communicate with her via looks or counted squeezing of hands, (y/n) on the other side was fighting with herself to keep her conscious awake, she did not know if it was the long monologue of the grant maester or just the ridiculous time of hour she would go to sleep due to inability to get comfortable but now the beautiful sensation of rest was engulfing her like a warm blanket.

Aegon squeezed her hand once more but surprisingly he did not get a response, her hand remained gentle so he turned his head over to her in a way to figure out what was happening, Aegon had to hold back a giggle when he heard her muffled snores as he found it adorable.

“Is the lady alright?”

“Yes she is quite alright, we must be excused, lady (y/n) is a prime example of how utterly dull this is”

“What?”

Aegon guessed that (y/n) had been awoken by the drag of Aegons chair or his voice, whatever it may be she was staring at him with confusion, only to be met with a kind smile on Aegons lips as he offered his hand for her to take, it was certainly amusing to him to see (y/n) blatantly disregarding everyone around her so she can rest.

“Nothing my love, come along now I know a very comfortable bed you are probably looking forward to laying on”

DAEMON

Dinners were usually (y/n)s favorite part, howbeit the past few days she seemed to feel a bit weak and her stomach was quite sensitive, the smells of certain food stirred up nausea but today they were visiting kings landing, it was a must that they attend.

As everyone talked about everything and anything (y/n) only toyed with her food and soon enough she just laid back on her chair, like a thief in the night the sense of sleep took over and the idea of resting her eyes became a deep sleep.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)”

As (y/n) was stirred awake her eyes met Daemons, he was visibly concerned by her unusual behavior of her, combining it with the illness that was circling her he was worried that it was getting to her even more.

“I apologize, the trip was quite long”

“It was, you must excuse us, I want to escort my lady wife to our chamber”

“We can call the maester for her”

“No, she needs some warm tea and to stay abed so she can sweat it out, she will be fine”

Daemon dismissed his brother as he linked (y/n)s arm with his to assist her with walking, Daemon was never a supporter of Maesters, he did not want them to taint his wife and the last part was mostly for him to hear more than anyone else.

JACAERYS

Rhaenyra was looking for her son all day, thankfully one of the servants informed her that he was attending his Valyrian lessons with his lady wife (y/n), as she walked in the room she expected to be met with the voice of Jacaerys and the maester as they went over a book or something of that nature.

Imagine her surprise when she was met with utter silence, with worry written over her face she scanned the room with her gaze to find them, there they were, lady (y/n) that was resting her head on Jacaerys lap while Jacaerys endearingly caressed her hair.

“She fell asleep, I brought her to my lap, I did not want her neck to stiffen”

“Mayhaps we should wake her, she will rest better in her chamber”

“No, no, she is so peaceful”

He whispered while he admired her calmness, (y/n) would always attend her lord husband's lessons, as newlyweds she wanted to get to know him and learn his schedule and so did he, duty United them but they both craved love to be the one that kept them together.

Rhaenyra smiled at her son, she raised a sweet boy, a gentleman that abruptly stopped his lesson to tend to his lady, Rhaenyra also agreed that she looked too serene to be disturbed, the scene that was unfolding in front of her was perfect, a memory she would bottle in her mind to be able to reminisce with her grandchildren.

“Alright then, I shall leave you to it”

“Thank you, mother”

Requests are open!

[starr-matterr]

♡̵♥︎♡̵̵"All you wanna do...is see me turn into...a giant woman!" ♡̵♥︎♡̵̵

This is gonna be my first ever fanfic and its for hsr😭😭

Its probably gonna be ass but I need to get this out of my head actually.

No use of y/n. reader is called "You"

Only like 2 characters r mentioned by name you'll understand that later

I know little to nothing abt hsr so alot of this might just be brain worms.

Idea credit to @eternityofend they r so silly for this idea go follow them plz

You were a unique Aeon, however, thoroughly confusing all who had studied you. You weren't callous and cruel like other Aeons, in fact You took a great pride in putting your all into caring for your followers and all around you. You were utterly perfect in their eyes.

Which Is why they were so confused when it came up to researching you. Your kindness and passion towards all you deemed good was well documented but one thing was not. Your appearance. You seemed to only appear to your followers in dream-like states. To your dear acolytes, You were a complete mystery, those few who did happen to see you only recalling how utterly loved they felt. They could only vaguely describe what they believed was You with statments varying each time.

It stayed that way for a long time as the seasons passed and sightings of You dwindled. Everything seemed so bleak without You, the greenery seemed to dull, the once colorful skies seemed to darken, and it could be felt by everyone.

Especially those blessed by you, most importantly, the Trailblazer. The Trailblazer always had a unique connection to You, often hearing your velvety voice for fleeting moments or seeing visions of You in dreams.

They had grown accustomed to your presence, even if you weren't physically there. When they had come to the realization that you were pulling away from your loyal, devoted acolytes they didn't take it well.

What had they done to forsake you? Why were You abandoning your Trailblazer?!?

They had moped around for weeks, delivering offerings to your shrines spread about the planets You had forged by hand out of love for your creations.

Without your guidance they began to spiral. Getting a little too rough with enemies, not tending to their own injuries after battles, often staring off into space, they were losing it. They needed you.

It wasn't until they had finally reached their breaking point until they heard it. A giggle, that laugh that would make all their worries wash away. Their breath hitched in desperation before they the thought of you out of their mind. You couldn't be back could you?

Then they heard it again. They didn't know why but they started running. It was if their body knew where to go but their mind didn't. They didn't know why they were running, You had never appeared in physical form yet.

They ran in the direction of your voice before hastily stumbling upon You. My were You a sight for sore eyes. The Trailblazer paused as they took in every inch of You, committing every last bit of you to memory, just incase this really was psychosis. You were sat in what seemed to be some large plains as your acolytes swarmed You like small bees.

You let out a chuckle at how adorable they all looked and how much they had grown since you last saw them. They were still so small and so needy but you loved every bit of them. Your acolytes peppered You with questions, praise, and presents as You gretted them all.

Sometimes you'd even let them crawl into the palm of your hand so you could get a better look at them. The person in question currently receiving this treatment being none other than March 7th. As she stared at You with star-struck eyes You couldn't help but giggle.

You continued to play with your acolytes before seeing the Trailblazer. You beckon them over with a smile, one the Trailblazer hadnt seen in months now.

As they approached You gently set March down, as to not hurt her before turning to the Trailblazer. Sensing how tense they were You brush a gentle finger through their hair as if anything harsher could crush them. As you pet their hair they seem to melt into your touch, making you laugh at their content smile.

You weren't expecting this. You expected your acolytes to be intimidated, scared even. You were white large and you could decimate them in seconds. That didn't seem to phase them as they chattered amongst themselves about larger temples and bigger offerings.

They just had to find a fitting celebration for your return, lest you take their hesitation as ungratefulness and devoid them of your presence again.

The trailblazer seemed to be keeping you company as the others made preparations for a mighty celebration in your name. As you patted their head their breaths were shaky as they professed their unbreakable loyalty to You.

It spooked you a bit. You didn't know your dear trailblazer could be so passionate, as You had only really been around them when they needed truly needed support or answers.

You didn't stop them however, You believed they needed to get this off their chest to sooth themselves.

You turn your gaze away from the Trailblazer for a moment, still allowing them to nuzzle into your fingers as long as they avoided your sharp nails. Now that you had a physical form you should probably file them down. You didn't want to harm your acolytes did you?

Your gaze falls upon the small crowd starting to form as they stare up at You. You flash them a charming smile, melting their hearts and making their minds feel fuzzy as you do.

That doesn't stop them from glaring daggers at the Trailblazer however. Just what was so special about them that your other acolytes couldn't do?

Their little angry faces were adorable to You. You just couldn't stop yourself from 'Aww'-ing at them!

Their heart skips a beat as hear it. Did you belive they were..cute? they feel all of those sleepless nights filled with extensive research on your disappearance was worth it. You swear You heard someone in the crowd offer You their newborn.

'This will be eventful.' You think to yourself as cou continue tending to your acolytes. Your heart swelling with unbridled joy.

UH YEAH.

My first fanfic done yippiee yippiee

Can you tell i haven't got past the tutorial of hsr because my phone is ass or naw be honest☹☹☹

Might put out a part 2 if the brain worms become too much idk

Also please tell me if I did anything wrong or something is misspelled or misused just dont throw pebbles at me for it thx!!!

YALL I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS EARLIER IM GONNA RIP MY FACE OFF AUGHHG.

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Some Kind of Disaster - Preview

Gally (TMR) x Fem!Reader

Concept: You saw Gally take a spear through the chest, and you are more than shocked to find him alive and well, in front of your eyes.

Preview Word Count: 970

If you like this preview, follow my writing blog @sundrop-writes and turn on notifications there as the full fic will be posted there sometime within the next few months when I have the time and energy to edit it. I may or may not make a TMR taglist, I'm not sure??

A/N: This is based entirely on the movie version of Gally, as I haven't read the books and don't plan on doing so. The title comes from an All Time Low song of the same name - which I would highly recommend listening to in order to get the vibes for this fic. Also apparently this is the same concept as a dozen other Gally fics, but I don't really care right now - because I got inspired to do it and it's entirely self indulgent, and this is my take on the concept lmao. I am currently on hiatus, but I've been working on fics as a form of stress relief during this time - but I haven't been editing fics. This fic will be posted after its edited sometime within the next month or two. (And there is already a sequel in the works, shhh.) Anyway, I hope you enjoy this, and feedback is much appreciated!

Warnings: the full fic will be smut, but this is more of a tease of that; the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; spoilers for the films if you haven't seen them; arguing that turns into kissing; Gally has a self-deprecating/insecure inner monologue; mentions of Newt x Reader (it's one-sided in this fic, but may be something more later on ;)); Gally being possessive, Gally being rough (but the reader likes it); mention of Gally masturbating to thoughts of the reader; implications of Gally being taller than the reader (which I think is likely for most people cause Will Poulter is pretty fuckin tall); technically virginity loss (but it's not a big focus of the fic) - it's more about two people naturally enjoying their first time together (and I wrote this the same way I would write a first time in a relationship with two slightly more experienced characters) - and also nothing majorly sexual comes up in this part; this section: heated kissing with intentions towards sex, and that's pretty much it.

...

“Look, I’m sorry I’m not like them, okay?”

He spat out these words bitterly when you didn’t speak, and this left you confused. “I’m sorry I’m not some dumb brave hero guy-” 

You reached out and roughly shoved the middle of his chest again. Unknowingly, this aggravated the healed scar where the spear had gone through him, sending a dull ache through him at having the tender pink skin so roughly prodded without his chest armor on this time. 

“You’re so stupid!” You barked back, utterly insulted by his words. 

He thought this was par for the course, that you would begin hurling more insults before storming out. He thought that you would tell him his supposed ‘death’ had been the best thing that had ever happened to you, and the longing looks Newt had given you were truly something more. 

“God, you’re so-!” 

You choked on your own words and tears welled up in your eyes, and you took a sharp breath before you continued. 

“You are that dumb brave hero guy!” You yelled back, speaking like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Gally gaped at you, and you continued. 

“What do you think all that was?” You gestured vaguely behind yourself, obviously speaking about the events earlier in the day - when he had rushed into heavy bomb fire to drag you and the others to safety. “That was the dumbest hero guy thing I have ever seen.” You said, putting a stain of emphasis on the word ‘dumb’, pinching his own phrasing for it right in the ass. 

“That was nothing, I just did that because you were in danger, and-” 

“And that’s exactly what Thomas would have done.” You replied, quickly cutting him off. “You’re every bit as good as him. You are.” 

There was a tense moment where you stared him down, deep contemplation knit across his features while you waited for him to agree with you. 

“I wasn’t when you left the Maze.” He added on, quiet guilt floating through his voice. “I wasn’t brave then. I was a coward. I couldn’t be what you needed-” 

“You have always been what I need, Gally. When will you get that through your thick shank skull?” 

You were done rehashing the past. 

You were done contemplating the details of what could have been. It hit you truly then - all that mattered to you now was the fact that Gally, your Gally was in front of you, somehow alive and well. And though it was something you never could have predicted, you wouldn’t let such a beautiful thing slip through your fingers. 

You reached out and grabbed the front of his sweatshirt, pulling him forward roughly. At the end of that jerking motion, he was met with your lips, and he sunk into the kiss without a second thought, closing his eyes and letting out a soft sigh that shouldn’t have suited him so well. Adding to that softness as he reached up to gently cup your cheeks while you gnawed at him with a feral passion. 

This is exactly what he had been waiting for. This was the reunion he had wanted all along. 

In a moment, the touch, your desperate grip on the front of his shirt, the way you ran your teeth along his bottom lip, edging toward something more - it triggered something within him. A possessive streak over you that had long been dormant; something once fueled by rage and jealousy and fear over the bad things that might happen to you if he wasn’t constantly looking over your shoulder. Now, it came from something much deeper. 

That immature love he had felt for you that had only grown and matured during your time apart, adding to a hungry passion for you now that he had you back in his arms - now that he could feel the heat of your skin, smell you, hear the whimpering patter of your breath and know that you were so damn real. (Not just another falsehood of his imagination with the details poorly filled in that he tried to soothe himself with, while he had a hand on his cock.) 

He was the one who charged at you this time, shoving you backwards and walking tightly with you, crowding you back until you hit a wall. You hadn’t truly taken in your surroundings, and if you had half a mind to, you would have noticed that this was some kind of dingy store room - used for scavenged spare parts for the vehicles and old guns that needed to be repaired in order to be put into use. 

But your brain didn’t take any of that in when your back made contact with the wall, Gally still kissing you fiercely, making you downright dizzy. You didn’t have time to think when one of his hands took a possessive hold on your thigh, hiking your leg up around his hip while his presence loomed over you, like the perfect protective wall you always felt that he was. He continued the heated liplock for a moment before he pulled away for air, and then, a particular query couldn’t be contained within you. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked, half-teasing, still holding your death grip on his shirt. 

There was a particular hum between your thighs - something hot and beating and alive, a calling that demanded to be answered. You knew that you would be devastated if Gally stopped too soon or didn’t rise to that call. So you had to know what his intentions were now to prepare yourself for the potential disappointment. 

“Showing you how much I missed you.” He answered firmly, entirely certain, leaning in to capture your mouth again - pressing his whole body tightly against yours now. 

It sent a thrill through you - knowing that he would answer that call and thensome.

[writer-of-the-lamb]

promptober : day 1 : "Worship."

In which Narinder ponders how Lamb keeps everyone faithful while being so carefree.

Narinder never quite understood the way one's mind was so easily warped into a dull and empty landscape.

It was like a follower's whole brain was discarded only to be replaced with metaphorical tumbleweeds in the shape of the Lamb. How could you possibly forget about things like your family - your very origin - in favour of some stranger that was practically extinct?

It was pure, unbridled insanity, and it confused him to no end.

Of course, the question never irked him when he was the almighty one. It was different, he told himself, because he was tall, dark, mysterious, and all-powerful. He could kill with the click of his fingers. He made it impossible for a follower to prioritise anything else.

It made sense that they blindly trusted him. It made sense that their past lives were discarded. It made sense that their minds became dull and empty landscapes.

But there stood the Lamb, casting daisy chains over newborn followers like a mellow and immature fool, and still earning devoted and faithful worship from the cult.

Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. He had more power in a singular curl of wool than Narinder had ever tasted. He should be using it to command - to subdue, and to enforce. It boggled Narinder as to why century-old magic was a toy to the Lamb; something to toss around in ribbons of scarlet sparkles when he walked by.

He'd ask the Lamb himself if his pride wasn't suffocating. 'How do you do it?' he'd say, pleading - 'How do you live so playfully and still achieve total submission?'

The Lamb's black eyes looked at him. "Loosen up, whiskers."

Narinder locked his eyes onto the Lamb, raising an eyebrow. Narinder hated when he called him that. Excuse him if he was a bit uptight after such prolonged thoughts-

"You're excused."

Oh, for gods' sake.

The Lamb looked to him with a shit-eating grin.

Would the damned sheep ever stop snooping in people's minds??

"Nah."

Perhaps that's how he did it. Mind control.

"Well that's not impressive." The Lamb replied to his thoughts again, leaning on a lamppost. "Worship goes both ways, Nari - I present the people with gifts and kindness to earn their loyalty. Loyalty is far more powerful than submission."

Incredible. Playing into empathy and bonds, of course. Joy and trust were deliciously powerful forces... "When did you get so wise?" Narinder grumbled.

The Lamb passed by him, winking. "When I started mind-reading."

The Lamb pressed something into his palm - a small, crumpled camellia. He never told him he liked those, and yet here he stood, growing ever-fonder of him.

Damn, he's good.

[screechingsandwichtriumph]

sorry for the bajillin asks, you dont need to write them all, i just have silly things in my brain and i need to share them or else i will be more sucseptible to the incomprehensible horror that is my mind

wanda maximoff with a a really silly wizard!reader!

like they join the avengers because they're like really strong and wanda thinks they'll be good friends bc they have similar powers

she was right about the friends part, completely and utterly wrong about the powers tho.

like i imagine them casting seriously dangerous and useful spells but they're all weird af, like "I CAST TWO TESLA TRUCK COLLISION" or "INSTANT BRAZILLIAN WAX GONE WRONG"

( I am doing just a small blurb here )

Wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings: idek man , fighting and nothing else really

Summary: Wanda meets the new recruit and is not disappoint even in the slightest( she is only maybe a bit disturbed)

Wanda was enthousiastic when in the end of the meeting the arrival of another possessor of magical abilities was announced

She couldn't wait for you to show up , ready to meet someone more similar to her

She loved the team with her whole heart she really did but it could get dull when everyone was training with each other and she got left on the rooms corner doing nothing but little swirls of red magic

The day you arrived she had already got the things she wanted to discuss with you made up in her mind ready to answer any potential questions

Finally at last another serious person in this place

She was waiting for you , when a person almost blew the doors open wearing bright colors with a wide smile

She stared at the person who was walking around looking for someone aperantly(. WTF DO YOU SPELL THAT WORD I WANNA SET MYSELF ON FIRE)

When you appeared unable to find the person you made a movement with your hand and a bright violet butterfly appeared . You whispered something towards it and it went flying towards the redhaired standing on her shoulder

Wanda was so confused for a second before realizing that you were the new avenger

You two quickly became friends , your fresh and light persona making her feel at ease

She had witnessed you performing magic spells that were cute albeit a little stupid

But then it came. The first battle both of you would participate on

She was busy doing her thing when she faintly heard what seemed to be your voice yelling 'BRAZILIAN QUICK WAX GONE COMPLETELY WRONG' followed by a scream. That couldn't be you , no way. She turned around only to see the new recruit surrounded by a bunch of enemies who were all on the ground groaning

' A GRANDMA WHO THINKS YOU STOLE HER MONEY' you then yell again while Wanda chuckles. Your magic was affective and oh so entertaining. She would really enjoy your company

Asks are always open<3

[the-ghostly-butterfly]

Snippet 1.5

Previous

An accumulation of Henchman's nerves, curiosity, and isolation left them reaching for the TV remote and flicking on the news; if they were supposed to stay here, they may as well figure out what's going on outside. They weren't quite sure what to expect when they flipped to the right channel. At worst, they expected a detailed account of how Hero had beaten them to a pulp the previous day, and at best a dull prediction of the weather.

What they hadn't expected was a picture of the hero's face: bruised, blood, and scared. It was such a surprise Henchman merely blinked in silence for the first few moments, utterly failing to digest any of the words coming out of the reporter's mouth. Villain had to have been the one to do it. They hadn't heard of any other villains causing Hero so much trouble, and they knew they were incapable of doing that themself. Hell, in the previous battle, they'd barely managed to land a single hit on the damn Hero.

The TV flicked off suddenly. Henchman turned around, confused, until their focus settled on Villain's face in the doorway. They held the unplugged TV cord in one hand, and a small bag in the other. "We need to speak. In my office, if you don't mind." Henchman nodded numbly, and within a blink they were sat in Villain's office again.

"Hey," Henchman said, then immediately kicked themself, but Villain's lips quirked into a small smile, and when they drew closer, Henchman couldn't help noticing how they smelled of night air and coconut-vanilla body spray, which was their second favorite perfume, but very similar to one Henchman always wore.

"Hey," Villain responded, a teasing light in their eyes as they stopped within arm's reach of Henchman. "Are you feeling alright?" They asked softly, folding their hands together behind their back after dropping the TV cord and placing the small paper bag on the bedside table.

The proximity brought a faint burning to Henchman's cheeks, which prompted them to break the silence. Sitting up straighter, they spoke with a croaky voice. "I'm sorry--"

"Wait."

The Villain's soft voice was all it took to silence the breath in Henchman's lungs and steal the rest of their words off of their tongue.

"If there is an apology in order, it is one of me to you. I believe my anger was misdirected when we spoke earlier." Villain's cheeks were pinker than usual, though Henchman wasn't completely sure they weren't imagining it. Villain cleared their throat. "I... I wasn't angry with you; just frustrated at the situation. I didn't mean to cause you panic."

Henchman wasn't imagining it; Villain was absolutely blushing. Which was good, because so were they. Met with silence, Henchman floundered for something else to say in reply. They should probably attempt their own apology again, or accept Villains, but their mouth was full of marshmallows and their tongue was made of lead until,

"Did I misread anger for anxiety?" Villain offers, and they look embarrassed with themself.

---

I thought I knew them better than that. Villain knew they were making a horrible mess of the entire situation, but Right Hand made it clear on no uncertain terms that if they had to watch Villain beat around the bush with Henchman anymore they'd shave off their eyebrows in their sleep, then make them confess, which was an infinitely worse situation that Villain was doing their best not to image.

Henchman shook their head slightly, then their eyes widened a little as they shook off the silence they'd fallen into. "No, not at all. I just--I wasn't expecting you to say that. I was pretty sure you were pissed at me."

It's a herculean effort to stop the sigh of relief from swooshing out of Villain's lungs, and the burning blush they were hoping Henchman hadn't clocked faded just the slightest bit. Maybe this wasn't completely hopeless. With another slight clear of their throat (a nervous tick they'd been trying to loose since childhood), they unfolded their twitching hands and offered the bag to Henchman. A peace offering, and an apology.

Quick, sharp footsteps passed in front of the doorway, and a flash of Right Hand's silvery hair was all it took to prompt Villain into their next words, uttered so quickly their tongue tripped over itself. "I was angry at Hero because I was worried about you." They were blushing furiously, and focused their gaze to the ceiling because any eye contact with Henchman would absolutely send them sprinting out of the room to take the easy way out. Or, in Right Hand's words: The coward's way out. It was even worse knowing their right hand was most likely listening as they dug themself deeper and deeper.

"It was the whole reason I wanted Hero down in the first place; they showed an interest in you--they attempted to target you, and I'm not sure if it was to hurt me, because they knew I cared about you, or if it was of their own accord, but I put you in danger and probably encouraged you to run out and fight them."

From what they could tell, they'd stunned Henchman into silence once again, though they couldn't tell if that, coupled with the blush on their ears and cheeks, was a good thing or meant Villain was just making a fool of themself.

"I thought I'd pass out on the spot when Right Hand told me where you were, especially when I saw Hero trying to call for backup. I wasn't sure what they'd do to you if they got you in custody. I went back as soon as I could to deal with hero, but they'd already gotten reinforcements and I couldn't get more than a couple good hits in--"

Their phone buzzed on their desk and lit up with a notification from Right Hand. [Slow down]. The bastard was listening.

Villain took another steadying breath, fixing their uniform and closing their eyes for a moment, clearing their throat and running one hand through their hair, bruised knuckles still aching. Henchman's voice broke in before Villain could continue their poorly planned speech. This was supposed to go so much smoother.

"I... I'm sorry, for worrying you. I didn't realize you held that kind of concern for my safety."

Villain collapsed onto their chair, holding their head in their hands as if that could make this entire situation go away. "I'm sorry, for dumping this on you so suddenly. I just... I would hate to see you get hurt again. I really don't know what I'd do without you."

"And Medic being so weird...?"

"I wanted to make sure you took proper care of yourself while I was gone. I guess they went overboard--but you do have a tendency to neglect your own needs in favor of work, and last night was no different."

Henchman blushed a little bit, and Villain felt themselves sliding into a more relaxed cadence as the conversation eased from "confession" to "take care of yourself, you idiot".

"You're one to talk."

That knocked Villain into another bout of silence. "I'm Villain. It's my job to go out and fight heroes--and maybe sometimes with Right Hand, but you're... you're different. Even considering my other employees, you are different. If you were hurt... If you'd died last night... I don't think I would be okay without you. I... really... I really care about you." Wow, great job genious.

Henchman didn't give Villain time to fret about what their expression meant as they replied, "I don't wanna loose you either, Villain."

-- Thank you all so much for all the attention and support on this series! It means the world to me. I have so many ideas for future posts, so stay tuned! Also, I have very little idea of how romance is actually supposed to go, so any specific requests are very much appreciated.

Tagging: @nameless-beanie @crow-with-a-typewriter @mylovelyme @21fandom-shipper21 @gooberlad @cassidysinferno (If you wanted to be tagged and weren't please just poke me with a stick)

[sonicpilled]

Pull You From Your Guilt (Zombic AU)

Chapter Two

Content warnings: mention of suicide, unhealed sh

word count≈ 3500

sonic + shadow (hurt/comfort)

“Sonic was dead. Shadow knew that. He held his bleeding body in his arms, he saw him in his casket as it was closed and lowered into the ground. He was gone. He wasn’t going to come back. Whoever, or whatever, he’s stumbled upon at the cemetery couldn’t have been Sonic.”

!!!ty everyone for the support on the first chapt.. pls enjoy. or hate. luv ya!

A week before that particular cemetery visit, Dr. Ivo Robotnik finally greenlighted his final plan. For the 3 months after Sonic’s death, he had been keeping it in the dark, testing and calculating the outcomes. It was one of many options he had prepared if the hedgehog ever died by something other than the doctor. A mix of chemicals, dangerous acids, and other hazardous products was dumped into the soil of Sonic’s grave. The contamination would affect the body in 5-7 days.

\\

The air was freezing, as autumn nights at 2:00 am usually were.

It was dark, the blue moon was the only light source for regular eyes. It was thanks to his alien half that Shadow could even see the disorder right before him, as he stood there. He narrowed his eyes at the tombstone, and the pile of dirt, and looked around the graveyard. At first, Shadow thought maybe some kind of pest was messing with the grave, but the rustling of the nearby bushes and long blades of grass was telling another story. If Sonic’s grave was defiled, the culprit wouldn’t get away with it. Shadow would make sure of it.

“Whoever's out there,” He started, his voice low as he became cautious of his surroundings. His quills stiffened, as he became on edge at the thought of grave robbers disrupting the hedgehog’s rest. “You’d be a fool to keep hiding.”

Shadow’s ear twitched at the crackling sound of a breaking twig, along with footsteps on the grass. He began to mutter the words that drew chaos energy from the palm of his hand, preparing to demolish whoever was about to show up.

“Chaos..” he stared carefully, as he took one step away from the tombstone and raised his hand.

He stared intently at where the noise came from, his quills and fur now bristled. The soft-sounding footsteps on the grassy hill made him glare in that particular direction. The moment he spotted a figure rise from behind the granite headstone, he raised his hand, about to finish the dangerous phrase.

“Wait!”

Shadow froze. He knew that voice. He drew his hand back, slowly. He shook his head, knowing that this was, again, a terrible dream. The faintly blue figure that was once hiding behind the granite carefully unfolded from its defensive pose. And then Shadow saw those green eyes. They were dulled at the moment, but he knew that shade of green.

It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t have.

Sonic was dead. Shadow knew that. He held his bleeding body in his arms, he saw him in his casket as it was closed and lowered into the ground. He was gone. He wasn’t going to come back. Whoever, or whatever, he’s stumbled upon at the cemetery couldn’t have been Sonic. For a moment, it was completely and utterly silent. No words could come out of either one of them. Shadow just stared, bewildered, into those green eyes. And those same eyes just stared right back.

It stayed that way for a bit, the faint sounds of the cold wind and far-away creaking of the iron gate. About a thousand thoughts were racing through Shadow’s mind, as he took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, quills only a bit raised as he tried to think about the situation. Part of him wanted to believe that this was just another bad dream, yet the other half of him was just hoping that this was some kind of miracle that resulted in Sonic being back.

“..Shadow,” that voice spoke ever so gently, as if they were as confused as Shadow was. That voice that was so undeniably him. It had to be him. It had to be Sonic. He recognized that voice anywhere, and to hear it that soft… it made him really hope this was a dream, just so he could imagine that he was with him again.

“Sonic...” Shadow whispered, as he took a slow step forward. That voice drew him in, his need for this unknown being to be Sonic just growing even more. He needed to see him again, and not in a coffin.

The figure carefully stepped forward, out of the pitch darkness. The moonlight shined on him slowly, revealing his appearance bit by bit. His fur was not a vibrant but muted cobalt blue, though a little matted. The color of his muzzle and arms were both a greenish yellow. His quills were unkept and a bit tangled, let down, and unstyled. He lifted his head wearily, and Shadow’s breath hitched.

It had to be Sonic.

The way this hedgehog looked at him, those green eyes, that face. It had to be him. It quickly became difficult for Shadow to convince himself it wasn’t him. His expression softened, a little bittersweet frown on his face. The cool air breeze rustled the leaves and flowers, as well as the fur of the two hedgehogs. Shadow sighed deeply, taking another step towards the blue hedgehog. If this really is a dream I'm having, he thought to himself as he looked down at him with tired eyes, I want to make the most of it.

So, he leaned down, gently wrapping his arms around the hedgehog, tightly hugging him. His body was cold, and shivering a bit in Shadow’s arms as he leaned into his touch. Shadow held him tightly. He felt too real for this to be a dream.

This.. this was Sonic.

Wasn’t it?

“I got this for you,” Sonic noted softly, toying with the soft, green scarf. He took in a shaky breath, as he pulled away slightly. He looked up at Shadow, then around the gloomy graveyard. “I… I really don't understand what’s going on. Maybe I was given something, dunno.. Everything’s.. out of place.”

“It seems so,” The black hedgehog nodded as he followed Sonic’s gaze, until their eyes met again. He looked exhausted, his irises dulled out. Everything about him looked… sick. Either way, this was much better than the last time he ever held him. “What are you even doing here, Sonic?”

“I guess I dunno. Why… Why am I still here? Did I really screw that up, too?” Sonic joked hesitantly, clearly upset about his mind being all foggy, and only sort of remembering his final moments. Shadow wasn’t all there either, as he stared at the ground again. Of course, he knew exactly what Sonic meant by his words. It definitely wasn’t something he should be joking about. Especially not to his face.

“Sonic… Do you actually think your attempt failed?” Shadow started carefully, a little frown on his face as he stared at the granite tombstone and mess of dirt right behind Sonic. “You died.”

All Sonic could do was stare at him in disbelief, waiting for further elaboration. How could he be dead? Was this just a cruel joke? Was he in a coma? If anything, he just assumed he was dreaming in the hospital. The air was cold, and his body felt gross. Sonic felt like he knew this cemetery, it looked familiar to him in some kind of way.

“I held your dead body in my arms. I went to your funeral. You died, Sonic.” Shadow spoke a bit more urgently now, narrowing his eyes at him. He wasn’t entirely sure anything that was happening at the moment was actually real, but he was still upset and how nonchalant Sonic was being. Did he just… not care?

“Then why am I here? Why am I breathing and speaking to you? See, your story has a ton of plotholes, dude,” Sonic laughed awkwardly, falling silent as he stared at the soil. The truth was that he was thinking the same thing. Sonic thought maybe he survived, but part of him was wishing he didn’t. It was unexplainable, really. Shadow groaned, taking a deep breath. This really was Sonic, wasn’t it?

“..I found you. In the bathroom, that night you left,” He spoke quietly, gently grabbing hold of Sonic’s hand. That night you left me, went unspoken. His gloves were a bit ripped, the ends of the fabric fraying. He glanced down, seeing the shredded skin of Sonic’s wrist. Unhealed, though a bit cleaned up for the open casket. It all came together, making only a tiny bit of sense now. The dullness of his eyes and fur, the dirt all over him. Sonic didn’t take good care of himself to begin with, but he was even more unkempt than usual. 3 months of decomposition must have messed him up.

He was dead. Half-dead, atleast. Shadow sighed, quickly looking away. “Look at yourself.”

Sonic frowned, slightly offended until he looked at his body, seeing what made Shadow look away. He thought he just felt like he was rotting. Maybe this was some kind of nightmare. “Ah.”

He looked up at Shadow, his face a mix of feelings and emotions. What the hell are you supposed to say to someone after they’ve seen you dead?

They stared at each other for a while, until a few stray droplets of water fell on their heads. Sonic blinked, snapping out of his staring as he looked up at the dark sky. His nose scrunched up as more drops of rain fell on the both of them. Shadow’s annoyance died down, as he watched the rain fall along with Sonic’s reaction.

“Hey,” Shadow said gently, a hand reaching up to carefully pet his head to calm him down a little. He knew Sonic was too out of it to even think of complaining about getting wet. “Let's… get you out of the rain, and clean you up. Maybe things will make sense then.”

Sonic glanced at Shadow instead of the sky and quickly nodded. He knew him too well. Shadow held his hand, carefully avoiding his wrist so as to not worsen those wounds, and led him out of the cold and dark cemetery. It was quiet, then, as they walked. The sounds of their soft footsteps along the grass and the slightly louder ones along the concrete walkway could be heard, along with the sprinkled raindrops against the grass.

Shadow took him out of that gloomy place, past the granite tombstones and dead flowers and the creaking and rusting iron gates of the graveyard. He climbed onto his motorcycle and gestured for Sonic to do the same. The blue hedgehog smiled sweetly, his tail slowly wagging as he hopped on. As Shadow shifted the gears of the bike, Sonic wrapped his arms around his waist. He paused, seeing him cuddled up close to him in the corner of his eye. Shadow huffed, a sweet wave of familiarity washing over him. He missed this. He missed him. And It seems he wasn’t the only one.

The two rode through the (at the moment) quiet city of Westopolis, together in the rain. The sun had just started to rise, the traffic nonexistent, the exception being just a few cars passing by. Shadow had been with Sonic at his state of most excited hyperness, his state of overwhelmed anxiousness, and his state of drained and nonverbalness. It wasn’t outlandish to see Sonic this quiet, as he softly purred and held him tightly. In a way, Shadow was proud of himself, he was one of the only people who got to see Sonic this way.

“So… Where are we headed?” Sonic spoke up, watching the mellow blues and teals of the sky as the sun woke up. Shadow was tired, and dazed, but somewhat relieved. It was like normal again. Normal enough, atleast, with these motorcycle rides through the city. Though at the moment it wasn’t loud and exciting, Shadow appreciated this, too. It was nice… being with him again.

“My apartment.” Shadow replied quietly, glancing at Sonic before staring ahead. He nodded in acknowledgement, pulling his gaze away from the beautiful sky and drawing it towards the black hedgehog he was holding onto. He sighed softly, holding on a little tighter.

They got to Shadow’s place, as he locked up his motorcycle to the bike rack just right outside the building. As soon as they got under some protection from the rain, Sonic shook all the water off of his quills and fur. Shadow watched him in amusement, a little chuckle coming out of him as they stepped into the building. He looked around, as they walked up the stairs. He knew this apartment complex well, having been there a bunch of times. They took the elevator, Sonic tapping his foot against the stone flooring, another common stim of his. While Shadow was content with the silence, it only made Sonic nervous.

“You think I’d ever get to go back to my own place, Shadz?” He started, as the elevator doors opened. Shadow hummed in thought, walking down the dimly lit hall as Sonic followed.

“…No. I’m pretty sure someone’s already moved in,” Shadow shrugged, stopping as they got to his door. Sonic frowned a bit, staring at the wooden flooring as Shadow unlocked the door to his apartment.

“Ah… that tracks,” Sonic muttered, as he fidgeted with his hands. It shouldn’t surprise him. He was dead now. It was bound to happen. “Um. Who has all my stuff?”

“I have some of your belongings. Tails and Amy, too. Tails mostly.” Shadow spoke calmly, though he could sense Sonic being upset due to his fidgeting. He unlocked the door, taking his boots off and setting them aside before he walked in. Without those, he was around Sonic’s height now, maybe just a smidge taller. He glanced at Sonic’s dirty and messed up shoes, the soles ripped. He sighed. “Take your shoes off, you’ll bring in the mud.”

Sonic nodded, slipping out of the frayed and ragged shoes before he stepped in. Oh, Tails.. he paused, as he thought about his brother. How is he holding up? How did he handle it? How is anyone handling it? How long has it even been? He hadn’t even thought to ask. He… didn’t think about any of this when he first woke up. Does that make him a bad person? Shit, shit, shit..

As Shadow set his keys down and took off his scarf, Sonic stayed there in front of the doorway. He stared at the ground, his fidgeting only getting worse as he took a deep breath. “How… How long has it been since…”

Shadow was slipping out of the leather jacket as he spoke, hanging it on the chair in the kitchen. “Since..?”

“How long has it been since I killed myself, Shadow?” He snapped at him, his voice shaky. Shadow’s calm expression wavered, as he turned to Sonic. The blue hedgehog rambled to him a bit loudly, waving his hands around as he spoke. His breathing was rapid, his quills raised and his fur bristled. “I-I just- I’m thinking about it now. I’m thinking about all of it now. I know what I did to myself, I know that it was horrible. I hurt a lot of people by doing it. I was so, so, so fucking selfish! I shouldn’t even be here!”

“Hey.. Hey,” Shadow whispered patiently, his fur a bit bristled from Sonic’s yelling, yet knew he was upset. He had every right to be. He knew it was going to all crash down on him soon enough. He carefully came over to him, holding one of his hands. “Sonic, please, try to breathe a bit. You’re only tiring yourself out.”

“Ughh..” he sniffled, the hand-holding effectively grounded him, like Shadow intended it to. His breathing slowed only a bit, as Shadow raised a hand to softly stroke his head. He wiped a tear off his cheek, and guided him to the antique couch in his apartment. He sat Sonic down, as he continued the petting.

“…Three months,” he spoke softly, looking intently at Sonic while he avoided eye contact. He rubbed soothing circles into the fur of his hand. “It’s been three months, Sonic.”

Sonic fell silent, nodding as he tapped his finger on the fabric of the couch. Three months… He sighed, now tracing the floral patterns with his fingertips. “I just.. I left everyone behind, Shadow. I left you behind,” He spoke quietly, a wince on his face at what he was going to say next. “Don’t you hate me?”

Shadow held his hand a little tighter, shaking his head slightly. “Sonic, I could… never hate you,” He spoke reassuringly, a bit hurt that he would even consider that. “I love you. And you did leave people behind, but you were hurting. I know you were. Don’t dismiss your own pain.”

Sonic looked up at him wearily, a few more tears falling from his eyes.

“…I love you too.” He spoke softly, letting himself be pet by Shadow. He calmed him down. He always knew what to say, Sonic was grateful for that. Although he sounded honest, Sonic just couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t true.

“If you’ve calmed down enough, do you want a bath? You’re.. covered in dirt.” Shadow talked quietly, glancing at Sonic’s fur and quills that were messy and had much more than just dirt caked onto him. Now in proper light, he saw how rotted he really looked. He shook it off, even if it irked him a bit. Sonic, mentally exhausted from the moment he woke up in the cemetery, nodded. Shadow smiled, kissed his head, and led him to the bathroom.

He stopped at the bathtub, glancing at Sonic with a bit of a worried expression. Maybe it was too soon. “Are you going to be okay?”

Sonic stared for a moment, until he realized he was supposed to say something. Tired, he gave a thumbs up. “mhm.”

“…Alright.” He shrugged it off, as he turned the water on.

Usually, after battles or quarrels in bad weather, the two were left in bad condition. It was a little ritual they had going, cleaning each other up when the other got messed up. Washing the mud out of ones fur, bandaging the others wounds, it was one of their many weird ways of showing affection. Maybe this was the same. Or maybe it was something completely different.

Gently, Shadow scrubbed the dirt and grime out of Sonic’s fur. That pretty blue wouldn’t be so vibrant again, but Shadow did what he could to clean up his hedgehog. He carefully went around the wounds on Sonic’s body, not wanting to worsen any of them. He knew his scars wouldn’t heal. Those cells and tissues were long gone. As he saw them scattered all over his arms and thighs, he sighed deeply.

“Oh, Sonic..” he whispered softly, as he moved on to shampoo. Sonic frowned a bit, he wasn’t sure if he was embarrassed or ashamed.

Once that was through, he wrapped him in a towel and let him be alone for a bit in the bathroom. His fur dripping wet, Sonic walked over to the mirror. He shook the water off of his body, even if Shadow already had given him a towel. He stared at himself for a bit, taking note of his tired eyes and overall sickly new face. he sighed. Is this what I am now..? he thought to himself, glancing at the bathtub drained of its water and then back to himself in the mirror. He looked down at his wrists, seeing the messy fur and cuts all over. They’d never fade. They’d never go away.

Sonic brushed his teeth, using the toothbrush he kept there at Shadow’s apartment for whenever he’d stay over. Then, he went into the cabinet and grabbed the first aid kid. He wrapped his wrists in bandages, and walked out of there.

Shadow was in his bed, staring at the ceiling. The tv was on, the news was on the screen. But it was all background noise for him. He was completely lost in his thoughts. Was anything that happened that day actually real? He went to visit him after a terrible dream, and then all of this happened. He had no clue. Maybe in the morning, it’ll all go back to normal. He took in a deep breath, sitting up as Sonic walked in. Completely dry, his fur was all fluffy.

“Hey,” Shadow spoke gently, waving him over to come and sit. Sonic tilted his head, a little sleepy smile on his face. Even if it was 6:00 now, they were both exhausted.

“…Hey,” Sonic nodded, climbing into the bed with him. He yawned, glancing at the tv. as he curled up next to Shadow.

“Starting with today and throughout the whole week, it’ll be pouring rain! We couldn’t think of a joke for that, even if weather puns are usually a breeze.” The reporter talked joyfully, the weather forecast showing up on the tv. Quietly, Sonic snickered. And then he laughed, loudly. Shadow smiled softly.

“That was not funny, and you know it.” He joked, a little smirk on his face as he watched Sonic catch his breath.

“Oh, shut up, dude! You’re literally smiling!” Sonic spoke cheerfully, grinning up at him. Shadow was smiling. And It definitely wasn’t because of the stupid pun, but he wasn’t going to tell Sonic that.

Eventually, Sonic fell asleep. Shadow stayed awake a bit longer, petting his head. He was thinking about a lot of things, still, as he hazily watched the news and held Sonic carefully in his arms.

“…On a more serious note, the grave of the beloved hero Sonic the Hedgehog, has reported to be… Police and other investigators are searching to…”

The news reporter was saying something, and Shadow really did want to pay attention, but he was exhausted. Now, with his hedgehog in his arms, he felt content. Now, that he had him back…

He really didn’t want to let him go.

ya

i hope it wasnt obvious it got realy self indulgent Lool… i am not trying the best when it comes to accuracy in character writing. just mayb my own personal interpretation of them

[fizziepopangel]

Chronically Ill Angel Dust

Author's note: I suffer from CFS and I have a few other undiagnosed issues, and as I can feel the effects of my current flare, this headcanon list is rather self-serving.... I kinda wanna make a few more of these for other characters with other various chronic illnesses. Let me know if you have any suggestions! -Fizzie❤️

Angel suffers from CFS (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) believed to be brought on by a mixture of his years of drug abuse wearing on his body, and years of psychological and emotional trauma. He isn’t sure how true that is, but he knows he feels like shit more than he doesn’t and he hates it…. Very few people know about his condition, the list being only 3 people long (Valentino, Charlie, and Husk).

Given the fact that he has a chronic illness and has a job that puts a lot of emotional and physical strain on his body, Angel tries to find little things that make him feel better. One thing that he’s come up with is skin care and long baths.

Naps. So many naps, and so many Fat Nuggets cuddles.

Fat Nuggets acts as a sort of unlicensed service animal/emotional support animal for the spider demon. Angel never really trained the pig to do tasks, but the little creature is eerily good at reading his owner's emotions and learned a few tricks that tend to help him on flare days.

Husk and Charlie are the only two in the entire hotel that know what Angel experiences. Angel told Charlie after a few months when he finally felt like he could trust the princess enough, but Husk found out on accident toward the time their friendship took that awkward first stage of romanticism when Angel broke down after a rather bad flare up of his symptoms left him in tears in his bed one day. Not being able to do much to help his spider companion in the moment, Fat Nuggets did what every good emotional support/service pig would do…. He went to Husk’s room and oinked at the door until the bartender let him in, then  stole his hat and ran to his own room so the man would have to come and find and help his friend.

Charlie always stops by Angel’s room to check on him whenever he skips their group activities, usually bringing him small gifts of things like pain pills, heating pads, and even small stuffed animals, or sometimes staying in his room to sit with him and let him vent about how he was feeling, or just so he didn’t have to be alone.

Husk’s approach to helping Angel usually revolved more around him doing things he knew often worsened some of Angel’s symptoms. Husk tended to help with things like laundry or dishes, or sometimes picking up things like pig feed for Fat Nuggets.

All of the soft blankets. He owns at least 20 or 30  soft and fluffy blankets and dozens of various sized pillows of varying firmnesses that he tries to use for his comfort for different aches and pains.

He has different sized heating pads and ice packs for the same reasons.

His shoulders, elbows, and wrists tend to ache the most, but his hips tend to bother him quite a bit too.

Angel does not know how to use his spoons wisely most of the time and tends to try to do as much as he can when he feels like he has more energy (spoons) than usual, leaving him utterly exhausted after he’s run out.

Valentino takes advantage of some of the spider’s symptoms for more “believable” reactions since he tells Angel that his acting has become stale.

Brain fog is a bitch for this man. The forgetfulness and confusion are usually his friends’ first signs that he isn’t doing the best. When his comebacks become a little dull, Husk usually starts to check in on him, while Charlie starts to check in when she notices Angel losing his words during conversations.

Once, when he was having a particularly bad flare up, a slightly older woman heard him complaining to Fat Nuggets as he walked out of a coffee shop, wincing as he leaned down to give his piggy pal a piggy cup. The woman then scoffed at him, saying that he was too young to be so tired or to know what joint pain really was…. Angel decked her. It worsened his pain, but he felt it was worth it.

[leggerefiore]

question about vampire submas: if their human s/o with their dull little canines and weak jaw bit them, what kind of message does that deliver? Is it arousing or do they simply get annoyed or offended? is it laughably cute or just ignored? maybe a little startling? while asking about vampires... what about vampire cyrus and larry as well?

assuming u mean include their reactions to request and not just general thoughts. (if you meant latter, feel free to send it in again)

Ingo gets confused and begins to worry this is some side effect of long term consumption of your blood. Are you attempting to feed as he does now? This all his fault. He asks if you feel the urge to consume blood after you pull away and is disheartened by your laughter. Thankfully, no, you do not need blood now and he can calm down. Though, he warns you it may accidentally set off his aggressive instinct and to be careful.

Emmet instantly takes it as a horny thing. Humans do that, right? Maybe it's a way to initiate sex. Your boldness shocks him for a moment before he processes his thoughts. You then end up pinned to the next surface with an excited vampire grinning at you with his sharp teeth exposed. It is not blood he's thirsting after, however. Well, maybe there is a little bit of blood desired, but it is secondary to other feelings.

Cyrus is annoyed and disgusted. He doesn't even drink blood straight from people any more, so you biting him it utterly disturbing and making his stomach twist. Your jaw is barely applying enough pressure to cause discomfort, let alone draw blood. He can only shrug you off and look at you sternly. Your behaviour is scolded, and you are informed to not do that again. Though, he does hate how much his heart beats in his chest for a whole after you do that.

Larry just freezes and assumes it's the end. For some reason, despite your weak bite and lack of sharpened teeth, he assumed this your attempt on his life. Then he realises you are not doing this to kill him and just stands in confusion. What are doing? You have just bewildered the middle-aged vampire. He has no idea how to even respond. All you see is his unmoving thinking face.

[bucknastysbabe]

Half-finished half-ass fill-in for my other fic Untold. I wanted angst and smut I’m only a woman. Sitting in my notes too long and I prob wasn’t going to get any further so

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Word Count: 4,649

Synopsis: What really happened in the recount of the stories. Aegon and his sister can’t seem to escape themselves and the past.

Revealed

127 AC

You didn’t know what the plan was when you reached the Godswood. Pray maybe. Crying likely. Screaming at the Seven could alleviate frustration if you weren’t so worried about being found. You had lowered a rope down the wall of of Maegor’s holdfast. You had done this many of times to seek peace in the open air or play kissing games with a highborn lad.

The knot laid fastened in your dark quarters for when you would eventually return— if sleep would grace you. Fraught with bubbling emotions and nerves you continued on. Ser Criston was stationed outside your chambers for that night. You knew why. But you did not want to dwell on that until the destination was reached.

Slinking past the spikes fastened on the dry moat, you shimmied up the wall leading to your porefuge. Digging your toes in loosened stone you swung a leg over the thick wall, ducking down flush to the surface. With an leap you latched onto the branch of an elm. One, two branches down you dropped onto the grass with a dull thud.

You scanned the darkened trees, finding nothing of note. You padded to the familiar heart tree and wearily sat down, staring up into the wide expanse of stars. You exhaled a shaky breath. The tears began to rise again— like they embarrassingly had at dinner in front of your betrothed.

You were confused and your chest ached for something not wanted anymore. You threw a pebble, cursing, “Stupid lackwit!” Your brother always managed to rear his pale head when you thought the feelings for the drunken sot had been smashed. Whether that be at tourneys with a clipped comment or more bold— insulting your betrothed at supper with a mean smirk.

You hated Aegon.

You didn’t hate Aegon but dreadfully wanted to.

You threw another rock, the small stone cracking against an elm. You wiped your tears away with a grimace, recalling your mother’s words, “Tears get you nowhere, silly girl.” They didn’t. You couldn’t remember how many times you sniveled to get your brother’s attentions back. He was utterly besotted with women and wine, had been for years now.

You hissed to no one in particular, “Then why in the seven hells is he throwing a fit now!”

Another crack. This time is was not you. You rolled and hid behind the tree, holding your breath. Please don’t be Cole, please don’t be Cole. You could not handle a stern lecture with your nerves in disarray like they were. You kept silent, listening out for anything else. Mayhaps it was a bird.

“I know you’re out here, sister,” came the voice you wanted to hear even less than Ser Criston. Aegon rambled on, “You’ve always hid in the Godswood when upset.”

You closed your eyes, praying he would simply leave. Your heart thudded in your chest like a bird flapping in a cage. Aegon’s slow footsteps come closer and you shook your head pitifully. You could feel him standing in front now, knew his hooded eyes probably looked down impassively.

With a quiet whimper you opened your lids. Aegon’s eyes were swollen and red in the dim light. His arms were crossed defensively, a sullen pout twisting his lips. He murmured, “Found you, little princess.”

You bit out, “Why are you torturing me like this? You know how I’ve felt for years.” Your arms wrapped around your middle, feeling the need to hide away and grow small. Aegon frowned, blinking away his emotions. He kneeled down to your level.

The prince croaked, “You’re leaving me, why would you do that? Can’t he come here?”

You gaped in shock. Upon contemplating his words, rage filled your stomach— acrid, roiling, all-consuming. You whispered bitterly, “How dare you!” Mustering more courage you jabbed a finger into Aegon’s chest. Truly wroth were you this time.

“How dare you say such insanity after throwing me away!,” you hissed, “I begged for your attentions and now that I’m finally getting my chance you come back demanding me like a spoilt child!” You jabbed him again, teeth bared in the dark of the night. Aegon fell back in surprise, at a loss for words.

He managed to stutter, “I- I- I don’t,”

You wildly mocked Aegon, “You don’t what?”

His voice was raw and cracked when he whispered, “I don’t know why I act the way I do. It hurt me to know I could not truly have you after my own wedding. It was easier to drink and whore it away.”

Aegon’s breath hitched gazing into your glossy eyes. Your mouth pinched in disappointment, falling back against the tree with a thud. He really thought his whoring would abate the fact of his feelings without any concept of your own heart. You sobbed, “You’re horrid. Disgusting.” Aegon reached out to you, getting his hand slapped away. You let out a mournful cry, “I hate you!” You sobbed painfully, body wracking with the contractions.

“Please don’t say that, don’t leave me with hate in your heart,” he begged.

“Just leave me alone, you’re right, it was easier.”

“You’re breaking my heart sister.”

You shouted, “Now you know how I’ve felt for years!”

Aegon grabbed you by the wrist and crowded your space. You gasped and twisted away as if burned. There was no escape between the trunk and his unmoving body. You protested, “Leave me, Aegon, for the love of the Mother.” He shook his head, a defiant tilt to his jaw. Aegon demanded, “Look me in the face and say you hate me so then I shall leave you be.”

You tried to tear away again, writhing in frustration. Hot tears soaked your lashes and cheeks, a nervous thudding in your breast. Sad lips trembled as you held your once dear Aegon’s gaze. Face crumpling you wept, “I cannot hate you and that’s the damned problem!”

Aegon nodded in understanding, jaw ticking from clenching down on it. He seized your lips in a lock, pressing insistently into your mouth. You squeaked and jerked but made no attempt to escape, didn’t want to deep down. To Aegon’s surprise you returned the kiss with passion, dainty hands fisted in his loosened cloak. Your mind felt split.

You mentally cursed Aegon for bewitching your heart once again, throwing yourself into the kiss with abandon. Your let him take control like you had always dreamed about, Aegon nibbling on your lip with darkened eyes. You whined at the touch, pressing close to him. You were utterly surrounded by Aegon’s scent, taste, and lies.

Between needy kisses you panted, “Why Aegon, why do you do this? I am too weak.”

Aegon cupped your warm flesh and begged, “I need you, I love you, let me have you before that Reach boy takes my little princess away.” You moaned against his lips, overwhelmed with desire for the blonde. You needed him in that passionate moment, old fantasies swaddling any logic. Your brain flooded with stories where you lived happily ever after, riding into the sunset on Merigar and Sunfyre. Stories where Aegon actually loved you, kept himself loyal to your body only.

In a voice that sounded strangely like your Hightower mother thundered your thoughts.

You are merely a toy for Aegon’s pleasure.

You gasped in shock, realization hitting like the cold spray of the Blackwater. Aegon lay heavily on top of your body, his swollen member jutting between your thighs. You exclaimed, “Aegon- Aegon stop this now, I cannot do this!” He ignored the pleas, too lust driven, laying hot kisses down the column of your pale throat.

You shoved at his shoulder, trying to not react to Aegon’s heated ministrations. You urged more insistently, “Aegon! Stop this now, I can’t lose my maidenhead!,” panic began to lace your tone, “I’ll be ruined!” His violet eyes peered down, the prince responding, “You won’t be ruined, I’ll get to have you freely then, sweet sister.”

In a fit of rage you kneed and jerked from his embrace. Aegon cursed and pushed you down, trying to relax your frantic flailing with sweetened promises. Fearing the worst, you slashed at his face with your nails, drawing bloody gashes. Aegon yelped and held his cheek, eyes remorsefully looking away.

“Fuck,” he swore, “Fuck, M’sorry, no, no! Come back!”

You scrambled away, dragging against the ground and only stopping from exhaustion. You panted from the mad dash, wiping bloodied nails against your dirty dress. Aegon had shameful tears staining his cheeks at the fear and revulsion marring your delicate features. After a stagnant pause you murmured, “I see what you want.”

Both of your heads turned at the sound of a sword being unsheathed. Lanterns cast a glow on your ashen expression and Aegon’s torn face. Ser Criston pointed the sword at the male, “If you weren’t my prince I would kill you on the spot.” You thanked the gods for his arrival, wrenching your hands painfully.

The kingsguard sighed and turned to you. He asked, “What are you doing out here? There is a reason for our existence you know.” You stared past his head and somberly spoke, “I have made a mistake, forgive me please.” Ser Steffon Darklyn helped you up carefully. You remained silent and passive for the rest of the night, swearing to keep Aegon from entering your heart ever again.

131 AC

You were once again brought back to the Red Keep. This time half-starved and seeing ghosts. Merigar must have sensed your slipping health and went to the place he knew the most. Where you seemed the happiest, atleast to your dragon. Your mount never got to see the wonderful year thriving in Goldengrove.

You had slept for what felt like merely a second, awakening to your mother. Alicent was slim as ever, but the stress and mourning left her aged beyond years. You said, “I think I shall stay now.” You couldn’t bear traveling again, oh so tired from the whirlwind of the war. Alicent sobbed and ripped at her black dress, cursing it all. You frowned and turned up to the stone ceiling.

You had your silvery ragged hair cut short when you became strong enough to move. Now a shadow stared back at you in the looking glass with contempt. At nine and ten years of age you shouldn’t have skeletal cheeks, frown lines, and sickly pallid skin. In a flurry you slammed the glass down, shattering the hideous image with a wounded noise. You softly asked the handmaiden to rid any reflections in your chambers, shaking with grief.

One of the Kingsguard retrieved you to visit Aegon’s quarters. You didn’t recognize the man, the knights changing all the time under constant flopping of rulers. Green, black, green, black. It made your head spin. Your heart thumped in fear of Aegon’s reaction.

He was like to throw you onto the spikes of the Holdfast for betraying the family under Rhaenyra’s rule. Aemond nor Daeron ever forgave you— taking that resentment to the grave. Helaena was too mad to discern reality from the hellscape of her mind. The boiling hatred you held for your eldest brother had died somewhere in your aimless journey around the North. You grew lonely and more bitter by the day there, wanting something familiar in the terrible cold.

Aegon was enough. Your mother was there, yes, but she represented the madness that sowed the seeds of the bloody civil war. You couldn’t remember the last time she spoke kind words. It left you unable to look at your mother’s stern face for long. You bore a love for your eldest brother that still ran strong. Although it had been smothered and twisted until unfamiliar.

The white knight bowed his head and instructed you to enter. The room was dim and smelled of smoke and healing herbs. You saw the faint outline of him behind a gauzy curtain around the bed. You grew fraught with nerves and shaky at the sight. The emotions were a gaping raw hole in your chest, bleeding out into the stagnant air.

He rasped, “My little princess, come back to me at last.”

You whispered, voice cracking with unbidden grief, “I- I am home. If you’ll have me.”

The covers rustled in the quiet of the room, his ragged breath filled the space, lungs charred from dragon fire. Aegon replied, “I’ll always want you.” You bit down on your lip and turned your head in shame.

“I look horrid,” you admitted.

“Then I fear you may be frightened upon my face. I thought it would be best to stay behind the curtain.”

You knew Aegon laid gnarled and his once handsome face was marred by burns. Bitter laughter fell from your lips, “I doubt I will mind. Let me lay with you?” He shifted again, grunting in pain. Eventually Aegon murmured, “Come on then. I did warn you.”

Cautiously you pulled back the curtain and clambered onto the bed. Shyly you kept your gaze down, crawling forward to Aegon. The bed was unimaginably soft, had to have been to ease the pain of his broken legs. He whispered a prayer under his breath. You felt a balm to your long aching soul when nestled next to the heat of him.

You felt nervous, like the summer child you were before the war. Aegon muttered, “You’re still beautiful as ever.” With a sigh you turned up to look at him. The king frowned and excused his visage. You scoffed and pet his pale hair, still as soft as you remembered. He had the same wide eyes and pouty lips, but half of his face was reddened and burned, twisting down his neck and leaving the ear a scarred hole.

“I find you handsome m’lord. What a pair are we?”

He smiled, a surprised baring of teeth, obviously a disused expression. Aegon chuckled, “You did go mad then. Orwyle said so.” The former prince blinked back tears, smile falling into a trembling grimace. You thumbed away one that slipped, staring into his violet orbs. He sniffled, “I’m sorry— for everything.” You shrugged and placed your ear against his beating heart, flush to his body.

“It makes no difference Aegon. Fate has decided we have each other now.”

He rambled, “Still, you deserved better. I wouldn’t have let Aemond put Braxton to the sword if I wasn’t so…debilitated.” Your heart clenched at the name of your late husband. You didn’t deserve better, Braxton Rowan did. You remembered his blue eyes flashing as he professed his love for you and cursed the other Targaryens. Then Vhagar bathed him in dragon fire, sickening crunches filling your ear afterward while you retched and sobbed.

Your throat clenched and bobbed. You urged against Aegon’s silk shirt, “Please do not mention that name. Let the past lie.” Thinking of the turmoil after your father died made you cold, so very cold. Aegon was warm and you could bear that.

He apologized again, his scarred hand carding through your chopped locks. You lay with him like that for the rest of the night, no other words spoken.

The small council was in shambles. You sat to the right of Aegon. Alicent waved her hands around, still vicious for blood. Your brother seemed like he might start sobbing, violet eyes darting to and fro. Lord Corlys drew the attention of the room. The once proud Sea Snake said, “Your grace, you must surrender. The city cannot endure another sack. Save your people and save yourself. If you abdicate in favor of Prince Aegon, he will allow you to take the black and live out your life with honor on the Wall.”

Aegon asked hopefully, dull eyes wide, “Will he?”

Alicent spewed vitriol, stating that Aegon must send a threatening message. Your stomach turned in discomfort, making eye contact with Lord Corlys. He spoke to you, “Princess, I know you are tired. Blood does not need to be shed. Please, you have always cared for the small folk and your family.”

You opened your mouth to respond, Aegon leaning close, but your mother interrupted. Her brown eyes narrowed, cruel lips moving.

“Don’t you dare Velaryon, she’s turned on us once already!,” Alicent spat. The dowager queen looked to Aegon, “Your sister holds no loyalty to you, to anyone, best you know that.” His expression darkened and Aegon shouted, “Why would the princess hold loyalty to us after we fed her husband to Vhagar?”

He calmed slightly, jaw twitching. Tears welled in his puffy eyes. You placed your hand on his arm, shaking your head.

“What would you have me do?,” he asked.

Alicent spoke of sending the boys ear as warning with you on Merigar as a threat. Rage crawled up your back and you stated, “I will not die with child’s blood on my hands. Merigar shall remain abstinent from war. That is final.”

Alicent sputtered in shock and a look of relief washed over Lord Corlys face. Aegon grew wroth with you later but let the matter lie after ranting and raving himself to exhaustion. You were going to live in the moment, no one descended from Hightower blood was getting out of King’s Landing alive. You hoped your dragon would have a better fate, he was a gentle creature under the scary armor.

Later in the week you sat by the fire with Aegon, pleasantly flush and tipsy. The wine dulled the pain of life, and for once you felt a longing to the past. When sober your heart cracked and bled upon facing the olden days. The broken king asked, “Do you remember when we got lost under the keep?”

You smiled at the memory and hummed, “I remember you yelling for help as I dragged you onwards. Ser Criston was so mad. We probably could’ve found Maegor himself down there.”

Aegon laughed, taking another slug of his treasured Arbor Red. Apparently he’d never quite lost that taste for constant inebriation. Aegon grew somber, staring blankly into the fire. He gazed at you, “I was never a good leader, was I?”

“No, I don’t think you were.”

Aegon shrugged, “Makes no difference. If only I had ran to Essos with you stashed away.”

You bitterly chuckled, “We would have been dead within the hour,” you lamely finished, “If only.”

The air grew still between you two, fire crackling at your feet. You stood up and padded to his legs. Facing Aegon you dropped to your knees and carefully placed your chin on his better leg. As if on instinct, his ringed fingers found your silver waves. You whispered, emboldened by the drink, “I want you brother. Before we perish.”

Aegon frowned, “Don’t say that.”

“Do you not want me then?”

His tongue faltered, the king gazing down slowly. He curled his hand into your hair, shifting in agony. Aegon declared, “I want you more than anything,” in a softer voice he added, “My cursed body will not let me.”

You deadpanned, “I have a mouth.”

Aegon snorted in amusement. He seemed torn about it all. You didn’t know what was fueling you either. The last time he was nearly intimate with you was not a positive affair. You figured it was that ever looming clock in your head— hurry up before the wolf lops your head off with Valyrian steel.

You passively kept your eyes on his, watching the pretty flush darkening Aegon’s cheeks. He rubbed his hand down his face and huffed, “I dreamt about this for so long and now I’m like a green boy.” You pressed a kiss to his thigh, hands placed on his hips. Aegon tended to be insecure, more now than ever, so you kept from touching his withered leg.

He murmured, “It’s been a very long time.”

“No matter, isn’t this what you always wanted from the whores? You to lie back and drink while getting your cock sucked.”

Aegon’s gaze grew heated at your words. He lowly accused, “Filthy words from a princess.” His fingers tightened around your hair, tugging at your scalp. You closed your eyes and moaned at the pleasure-pain. “Use me, use me please brother,” you urged.

He groaned, eyelids fluttering in heady desire. Aegon breathed, “I want to, fucking hells, sweet sister.” Slim fingers rounded his hips, cautiously unlacing his breeches. You raised a brow in question.

Aegon waved a hand, “Hold on, just yank them, fuck, you’re going to kill me.”

You bit back a laugh, and patiently waited. The king stopped and glanced, a dumbfounded look on his face. He snapped, “What?” You made a motion for him to lift his hips, chiding, “Take it easy- I’m not going to hurt you worse trying to get at your prick. It’s been a long time for me too, I’d ought to not ruin it.”

Aegon huffed and downed the rest of his wine in a swift movement. He clenched his teeth and strained, you gently shucking down his breeches as his hips lifted. The blonde panted in pain, cursing with anger. His cock softened and went limp. He grumbled, “Ah, there’s the beast. Fucking ghastly.” His purple eyes rolled at his cruel jest, jaw mulishly set.

You mulled over the situation, Aegon was caught in his head and bodily pain but needed a distraction. Your rail-thin body wasn’t much to look at. You reminded yourself Aegon rarely turned his nose up at a woman. You said, “Unlace me,” and twisted around. He dutifully did so, gently moving your hair out of the way. He said, “I want the jewels on.”

“Might make me look less like a dead woman,” you quipped.

“You’re still beautiful, foolish sister of mine.”

You shucked off your dress, only clad in your chemise. The heat from the fire was raging but you still shivered. You inhaled sharply before tearing off the garment. Aegon’s breath hitched, “Come here, need to see you, please.” He reached to spin you back to him. You flicked your vision away, embarrassed about the lack of tits from wasting away in the frigid north.

Aegon croaked, “Fucking divine is what you are, little princess.”

You whimpered softly as he cupped your breast, getting a good feel. He thumbed at your other tit, pinching a pebbled nipple. You made another pathetic noise, gasping his name out at the feeling. Aegon groaned in pleasure as he felt you up, his attentions burning hot.

Tentatively you leaned forward and grabbed his cock again, now gaining some life again. You jerked the flesh a couple of times, feeling yourself grow wet at his sighs of your name. Aegon rambled breathlessly, “Fuck, never thought I’d have you to myself, gods granted me a boon.”

You replied, “I knew we’d be back together, felt it in my ah, bones.”

Aegon pulled you flush to his body, forehead touching yours. He swore, “Tell me you’re mine- promise yourself, it’s all I ever wanted.” He breathed against your wanting lips while his hands rubbed jutting ribs. You whined, “I’m yours, just you Aegon I promise, until my last breath.” He sealed his lips over your own, lapping into your mouth.

His scarred hand knotted into the hair at the nape of your neck, tilting you for better access. You arched into the kiss, mouth lax for the taking. Aegon’s cock was full and stiff in your palm now. You pulled at the flesh, tenderly swiping a thumb on the sensitive underside, Aegon moaning desperately.

The lip lock was sloppy, sheer yearning desire overtaking any form or function. You clenched your trembling thighs together, whining at the pressure between your legs. Aegon twirled his tongue with your own and groped your ass. The need to draw breath separated you two, although you’d suffocate if you could.

Aegon whined in pleasure at your ministrations, eyes shut tight. You panted, “Let me suck your cock my king. Fuck my throat.” Aegon cursed at your words, tugging your hair roughly, sending you careening at the blessed pain. He growled, “Little princess wants it rough?”

“Don’t hold back, I want to feel it,” you said.

You wanted to feel something, anything, and pain was what you deserved. Aegon’s head fell back when your mouth enveloped the head of his flushed cock. The prickling of hair ripping from your scalp made you choke and drool. You eagerly bobbed your head, hand coming to his sac. Braxton had taught you how to suck him off, the pair of you making it a game to find different places to do the act.

You gagged yourself to clear the thought. Your brother whined again in his throat, biting his lower lip in abandon. He moaned, “So good, such a good girl, my girl.” You forced him down farther, swallowing around the intrusion. Tears slid down your cheeks and your jaw was aching wonderfully.

You kept him deep in your throat until black spots swam in your eyes, whimpering wantonly at the feeling. Aegon shifted and cried out, squirming. You felt your body begging for breath and denied it until Aegon pulled you off his prick. He shouted your name while you drew in a ragged breath, his seed hitting your tongue and face.

You sobbed, overcome with emotion. In hoarse cries you said, “Oh Aegon, oh- I love you!” Your throat was swelling and throbbed from the rough treatment. Aegon sniffled himself, “I love you too, love you so much.” You wrapped your arms around his waist and cried like a child. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, shushing and cooing.

You whimpered miserably, “Sorry- I’m losing my mind. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

He attempted to jest, “You can’t cry with my spill on your face like that.”

You forgot about that, hysterically laughing at the insanity of it all. Aegon seemed confused at the sudden change of your demeanor, but smiled and wiped your face with the discarded chemise from earlier. He held you again while you cleaned him off and began the painstaking process of putting the breeches back on.

He kept repeating how lucky he was afterward, but you felt more of a curse. Still, the hole in your chest was less achy when curled up with the last person who mattered.

Alicent cornered her last children in the dining hall. Aegon was annoyed, drunk, and in pain. He grimaced, leaning heavily on his crutch. You crossed your arms, staring at a spot behind your mother.

The Dowager Queen whispered, “I have heard…displeasing things from Lord Larys.”

Your mouth twisted in bitterness. She still couldn’t speak directly of personal matters, words dancing into riddles. Aegon snapped, “Larys never has anything good to say, out with it.” The woman hissed, “He informed me of your, gods above, passions at night. Lord Borros has been curious on why the King would rather cavort around with his widowed sister than Lady Floris.”

Aegon shook with rage, the wine loosening his tongue. He spat, “Lord Borros should worry about what I’ve tasked him. Larys will have his tongue cut out if he speaks on my sister again,” he cut you a look, “I don’t have the patience for this, let’s go to bed.”

Your mother turned on her heel with a stifled sob and left. You murmured, “Maybe you should plan some more for the wedding. I will help.” Aegon hobbled forward with a scoff. You kept your stride to his ambling pace, waiting for a reply. He seethed, “I don’t care what the bitch, clubfoot, or that illiterate bastard think.”

You said, “You need the illiterate bastard’s army Aegon.”

He grumbled, “Fine. We’ll plan it. Better than the affairs of the shithole I rule.”

You sighed in resignation. Neither of you would likely live to see another wedding, Cregan Stark’s approach looming ominously. The hour of the Wolf would be upon you all.

[koi0boi]

Grieving My Own Death -

My teeth taste like rot. Cringing at the smell of my own breath I realize I don't remember the last time I brushed my teeth. They feel slimy, it's utterly disgusting but I can't bring myself to move much less go to a whole nother room.

My entire body feels like it's rotting, actually. Covered in a sickly and warm sweat, as well as dull aches and throbbing bruises. What a perfect corpse-to-be I am. Beats being an imperfect, downright unpleasant and savory alive person. I suppose.

I've been laying in my bed for so long I'm actually starting to collect dust. It itches at my sensitive skin, causing hives to form. I'd scratch at them if I could move my heavy arms, but I find I'm far too weak to do so.

My bed’s a bit like a coffin, or a grave. Well, they better hold the funeral procession quick, else my body will be a plie of bugs and dirt and bones. Not great for an open casket.

The passage of time reminds me of itself as I look over to my clock; almost three in the morning, it reads. I feel no more tired than i do when the sun's up and all the more awake, so I guess I'll be staying up.

The bugs infest themselves deeper.

My empty stomach turns and lerches, begging to throw up yesterday's lunch. I didn't eat anything yesterday. It settles for bile instead. It rushes forward through my throat up to my mouth, and, too tired and too lazy to swallow, I gag.

I'm shivering despite being all too hot. Craving blankets despite the sweat. My fan wrrs as it spits cold and humid, hot and dry, air at me. My confusing temperature gives my head a reason to ache but gods knows it does not need one.

Flies and beetles and such crawl around under my skin, disturbing my flesh. I can feel eggs being lain under my tongue and larva crawling between my teeth, wiggling underneath my gums. I can feel flowers grow from my organs and bones, a gruesomely beautiful display. A mixture of chrysanthemums, poppies, and lilies sprout from me, all a stark white.

As I look down at myself, laying there in my own rot, I smile. Smile at the flowers and the bruises and the blood and I wonder if this is what beauty is, if what I was missing was rotted flesh and flowing tears.

Maybe an open casket wouldn't be so bad.

[voidedleylines]

FFXIV Write 2024 Day 23: On Cloud Nine

In which a noble knight searches for his friend

Rating: G || No CWs apply || Heavensward setting || Haurchefant Greystone & Warrior of Light

Enjoy!

Haurchefant finds her in the decrepit inn room of The Forgotten Knight. The irony and cheek of it being dubbed Cloud Nine was not lost on the citizens of this city and he does wonder idly who even decided that was best.

He shakes his head, back to the task at hand. He opens the door gently to find her by the fire and she looks too lost in thought to care about her surroundings.

He almost feels bad for the intrusion, but it’s too late to turn back as she notes his presence with a small nod. Her blue eyes are dull and she just looks so, so exhausted. He can hardly blame her.

Haurchefant smiles warmly as he often does with her and gives a wave. “Apologies my friend I-you did not return to the Manor nor Camp Dragonhead my mind began to worry,” he says.

At that omission the smallest bit of color returns to her face and eyes. His stomach flips while his heart aches. They have not gotten to know much about each other during the moons between running from reginicide and finally convincing father to let her enter the city proper, but he feels he knows and has seen enough to think she deserves better than the world has treated her of late.

“I’m sorry to worry,” she says. “I went to find Tataru here and then I kind of just…stumbled in here,” she looks around and gives a half-smile, “As it seems many have before me.”

He gives a hardy laugh at her joke and it puts a small but real, genuine smile on her face. Haurchefant gives a bigger one in return.

There’s something now that catches the corner of eye as it sits by the fireplace. A carbine, he thinks it is called. He lets out a low huff of a laugh, “I see you’ve been by the Manufactory. Stephanvien is always the eager one.”

She follows his gaze and looks at it confused, “I-yes I have met him. He seems…”

“Harmless, mostly,” he assures, “He has his quirks as we all do.”

“I guess that’s true,” she muses idly.

There’s a beat of silence that passes and only the crackle of the fire is heard. He feels himself grow nervous and he shuffles his feet.

“I can…apologies if this was an intrusion. If you wish to be alone I can-”

“No,” she cuts off sharply, already halfway to standing up. His mouth hangs open a moment at the sudden declaration. “I…if you would show me back to the Manor or if there’s any other places I should see I would…appreciate the company.”

He blinks a few times at her request. Truthfully he had much work to do back at Camp Dragonhead, as he always does, but the thought of leaving her right now seemed dangerous. So he thinks his station can handle his absence just a few bells longer.

Realizing she’s still waiting awkwardly on a response he smiles and lifts out his arm. She’s hesitant but she takes it and squeezes it tighter than he expects. Again his stomach flips and his heart aches and he wishes he could personally strike down all that which she fears.

They walk out the room together and back into The Forgotten Knight. Patrons no doubt stare at them but he doesn’t care, and hope she doesn’t either.

They spend the better part of an afternoon together as he shows her every ilm of his fair city. When he finally drops her back off at the Manor she seems utterly exhausted, but there’s a life back in her eyes that wasn’t there when he first came to find her, so he smiles brightly and bids her farewell with a bow.

“Thank you, Haurchefant,” she whispers.

“Of course, my friend.”

[sexysilverstrider]

A Berry Intense Couple | Volokari (Smut)

   Togekiss, by nature, was a Pokémon that thrived off people’s happiness.

   It was truly a glorious Pokémon. Feathered in a body of pure white and glittered with colours of red and blue on them, one almost found them festive if they decided to appear on joyous festivals. A Togekiss’ smile was always blooming, always bringing smiles and laughter to Pokémon and people alike. While some humans still feared Pokémon for the beast that they were, Togekiss was one of the very few creatures that people sought peace and harmony.

   Not many knew about the beautiful Pokémon. Not a scant saw this rare Pokémon, but when they did, many explained that they felt inexplicable joy bloom in their hearts.  

   To be able to see a Togekiss would be blessing from Arceus above.

   “I can’t believe you!”

   That was…until one menacing merchant decided to live and make peace with the world he was in.

   One woman stomped into the village entrance, stunning the gatekeepers in a mixture of bafflement and confusion. Another man followed her suit, steps not as haughty but expression cold with a glare that could pierce through very metal.

   “You were being careless.”

   She stopped.

   One heel turned, jet black eyes drawn daggers at the tall man before her. “I was being careless?” One hand slapped her chest. “I wasn’t the one who riled up a pack of wild Paras and Parasect!” A huff was given. Harsher. Rougher as the man rolled his eyes.

   The audacity.

    “Don’t you feel a little bit guilty that you almost had those poor Galaxy members almost killed?” The question was toned down—just a bit—so that it wouldn’t rise suspicion from the other villagers. Arceus forbid that he already had a target on his back the second he came back into Jubilife Village.

   However, Akari almost had half a mind to raise the question again in a higher pitch when she saw his guiltless grunt.

   “They’re alive.” was all Volo said.

   Arceus, he pissed her off.

   “They can’t see for a month!” Words seethed through gritted teeth. “Volo, if it weren’t for my quick thinking, those poor members would be blind forever.” Oh, how she wished she could smack some senses into that pretty face. “The mission also almost failed because you decided to show up out of the blue.”

   Arms crossed; Volo held back a twitch from his fingers. “The mission, my dear—” He leaned forward, dull gray eyes widened right at her, “—would have taken forever to complete if weren’t for me being there at the right place and the right time.” He saw her anger fume. He found it utterly adorable.

   He also found it absolutely dangerous as the sight made his lips loose.

   “If it wasn’t for me…you might take a whole year to finally fucking come home…”

   The second Volo saw her eyes widen, he knew he fucked up.

    “Are you for real?!” She shouldn’t be surprised. Akari didn’t even know why she’s still surprised. “I was on a mission! I told you I wouldn’t be home for 12 days!” Mouth dropped agape. One foot slid backwards—both out of shock and out of the power to stop herself from really smacking him in the face.

   “I didn’t say I agreed.”

   Oh, for fuck’s— “Yes you did!”

   “I can’t remember.”

   “VOLO!”

   While the two humans bickered and fought and practically made a scene for themselves, two Pokémon only stood and looked from a few steps away. One was clearly hovering in distress while the other yawned in absolute boredom.

   ‘They don’t look happy,’ Togekiss chirped woefully, wings flapping up and down in wild rhythms.

   ‘No.’ Belial bit back a grin to see his Akari finally raising her right hand.

   ‘We need to do something!’ The Jubilee Pokémon squeaked louder when she saw Volo quickly held Akari’s right wrist. Togekiss was stuck between hovering back and forth, wanting to end their strife but lost on the ideas to end it—

   ‘That’s it!’ Suddenly, an idea popped in her mind. Her voice finally broke Belial’s attention from their wielders—who were now pulling off an odd dance of Akari trying to stomp Volo’s feet and the man nimbly dodging every step.

   Momentarily lost in her plan, Togekiss looked at the Hisuian Tyhplosion. ‘Berries! Berries always make me happy!’ A wide smile shined on her face. ‘When Volo was upset in the past, I used to cheer him up with some berries!’

   Blood red eyes blinked at the cheerful Pokémon. ‘I don’t—’

   “Fuck you!”

   Akari’s voice not only cut Belial off, but it also became the last straw on Togekiss’ resolution. ‘I’ll be right back!’ Black eyes briefly looked at her friends, though the sight of Volo now gripping both of Akari’s wrists and lightly lifting the violently—and hilariously—shaking woman did almost break her smile.

   Almost.

   ‘Keep an eye on them for me!’ Giving a quick peck on Belial’s muzzle, she quickly flew off to the nearest berry tree.

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   ‘I’m back!’

   Curled comfortably on the front porch, he looked upwards. ‘Welcome back, darling.’ A smile, honest and true, was given at her presence.

   With a fairly thick branch full of berries gripped on her talons, Togekiss carefully landed in front of him. ‘I hope I wasn’t too long! I brought a lot!’ She then hovered before him, proudly showing him the literal fruits of her labour.

   Belial only flashed a lazy smile.

   ‘Now,’ Remembering why she took the trouble to find the berries in the first place, Togekiss looked around, ‘where are those two? This will surely cheer them up!’

   His lazy smile was then pursed.

   ‘Ah,’ He lifted his head, red eyes darted to the closed front door behind him, ‘about them…’

   “Fuck!”

   Volo’s voice from inside the house was heard, and it was enough to fuel the Jubilee Pokémon with panic once again. ‘I’m coming, Volo!’ Without haste, she spread her wings and took flight.

   …Or was about to if it wasn’t for Belial holding the branch.

   The action made her stop. Confusion now mixed anew as she looked at him. ‘Belial, let go. Volo and Akari need these berries to calm down and feel happy again!’

   Thinking that he would listen and let go, Togekiss instead huffed questioningly as the male shook his head.

   ‘They don’t need them, my dear.’ Gently, the Typhlosion tugged the branch down, which made Togekiss hover downwards to his eye level. Belial now stood on his hind legs, paw releasing the branch. ‘I mean, they might need it for later.’

   Confusion now slowly shadowed over her worries.

   ‘Meaning?’ she chirped, head tilted to the left and eyes switched between her mate and the noises from inside the house.

   Sometimes, Belial found her oblivious nature to be quite adorable.

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   “Do you know how fucking—” Pap! “—lonely I was to wake up every morning to see you not by my side?!” In and out and in and out he fucked her hard. Callous hands gripped her waist, fingers pressing into her skin as he pushed and pulled her to his very desire.

   Words were void from the woman under him. An aching back arched to feel the tip of cock deep inside of her. Hands numbly gripped the futon below them, nails digging deep into the soft material.

   “V-Vo—ahh—!” A pitchy moan was expelled as he hit a favourite spot. Eyes hazed and tears glistened in each corner, Akari released her grip and reached towards him with one hand. “V-Volo—close—clo—f-fuck—!” She felt her walls tightened. She felt his movements roughened. Slim, strong legs were raised as he leaned towards her. Toes curled deliciously as Akari felt him moving roughly and harshly.

   To see such a feverish gaze. To see such a jutted tongue.

   Pap!

   Volo could only see himself in her beautiful black eyes.

   Pap, pap, pap!

   He loved it. “You’re mine.” To know that she loved him and only him. “No one else’s.” To know that she chose him after all they went through. “Akari…Aka—aa—ri…!” To know that she had opened his once dead heart. “Akari, Akari, Akari, Akari, Akari, Akari, Akari, Akari, Akari—!”

   He loved her very much.

   One hand released his grip on her waist, palm nimbly tracing down her stomach. “You’re mine…” His movements staggered. “Take me—” His hips slammed harder. “Take all of me!” Excellent fingers toyed and flicked her soaked clit. Wet, dirty sounds only drove him delirious, making him pinch and flick her clit harder until she exhaled a long moan of his name. “Akari—!”

   The same hand moved upwards, sought solace with her own.

   Leaning his face against her neck, Volo stilled. Strings of cum spurted inside of her, filling her womb with promise that she would never, ever leave his side.

   Eyes rolled to the back, Akari saw white as she came after him. Legs voluntarily locked around his hips, locking him in place with promise that they would always, always be together. A silent moan followed suit, body trembling from head to toe and her pussy pulsated around his throbbing cock.

   The scent of sex and sweat filled the room. In perspective, it should disgust the fuck out of her.

   “Akari…”

   Instead, it only made her heart race at the many reminders of her passionate lovemaking.

   After a few shaky breaths, Volo slowly pulled himself up. Elbows rested on either side of her head. Gray eyes met a pair of dazzling blacks. Pale, parted lips huffed out heavy air that caressed her own wet mouth.

   She found it silly to have Butterfrees in her stomach while also having his cock deep inside of her.

   Bursting a giddy giggle, Akari gently cupped his left cheek. “I love you.” Her smile curled at the corners. “Clingy man.”

   That tickled a chuckle from said man above her.

   Ah, it’s sometimes frustrating to know her body trembled at the sight and sound.

   “I love you too…” Carefully, Volo leaned forward. A kiss, soft and sweet, was bestowed upon smiling lips. “Stubborn woman.”

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   While Togekiss didn’t need to see to know what was going on, the sounds and noises alone were more than enough to put two and two together.

   A serene sigh was released. ‘At least they’re happy again.’ Truly, those two could be the most volatile humans she had ever met.

   Togekiss then felt a gentle bump on her right wing.

   ‘I’m sure they’ll appreciate the berries for dinner later.’ Tucked on all fours, Belial nuzzled into the soft white feathers. The action brought out a giggle from the female, and this only made his smile bigger.

   ‘Yeah…’ Reassured that those two weren’t fighting anymore, Togekiss hopped closer and nuzzled Belial’s cheek with her own.

   Togekiss, by nature, was a Pokémon that truly thrived off people’s happiness.

   Even if that happiness came from the most intense couple in Hisui.

END