#Not a single person even expressed kindness after the apology
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Fallen Loyalties - Aemond Targaryen x TwinSister!Reader
Summary : Now, all that remains is the echo of the lies Aemond told and the weight of the betrayal he never saw coming. And as the consequences unfold, he realizeâitâs too late for apologies, too late for redemption. The loyalty you once shared is gone, and whatâs left is nothing but the ruins of what you once were. The price of betrayal is always paid in regret. And now, he am paying it with his heart.
Aemond Masterlist.
Being born as Aemond Targaryenâs twin sister meant your fate was sealed from the moment you took your first breath. From the very beginning, your life was entwined with his, bound by blood, secrets, and the unyielding honor of House Targaryen. But your bond with Aemond had always been more than mere siblinghood. There was something deeper, darker, something no one dared to name aloud.
After the birth of Maelor, Aegonâs son, your marriage to Aemond was arranged without question. It was destiny, they saidâa union that would strengthen House Targaryen. You accepted it with your head held high, even as your heart swirled with fear, confusion, and curiosity about how your life would change.
Now, you are carrying your first child. Years have passed since your marriage, and while youâve grown accustomed to Aemondâs stern and controlling nature, the unspoken tension between you remains.
In your chambers, Aemond stood near the window, gazing at the flames burning in the distance. His silver hair flowed freely down his back, catching the warm glow of the candlelight. He turned when you entered, his sharp eye immediately locking onto yours.
âHow are you feeling today?â he asked softlyâa rare gentleness in his voice.
âFine,â you replied briefly, your hand instinctively resting on your growing belly.
Aemond approached, his steps deliberate and measured. Despite his calm demeanor, his intensity was palpable. He stopped in front of you, his gaze fixed on your stomach as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
âHe will be our legacy,â he said quietly, his voice filled with conviction. âWe will ensure the blood of the Targaryens remains pure and unbroken.â
His words stirred unease within you, but you nodded, choosing not to challenge him. You knew that beneath his gentleness lay a darkness you had no desire to provoke.
As the night deepened, you wondered if your life with Aemond was truly destined by fate or if you were merely trapped in the power games of your family. But when he gently pulled you into his arms, you couldnât deny the feeling that, for reasons you couldnât fully understand, you were meant to be hisâforever.
Loving Aemond was not something you could ever dream of letting go. It was a bond forged not only by blood but by something far deeperâsomething dark, consuming, and impossible to escape. You knew the kind of man he was, knew the fire that burned beneath his icy exterior. And you knew that when he was angry, even you, the one person he held above all else, could not control him.
The tension had been building ever since word reached you about what happened at Rookâs Rest. The whispers of what Aemond had done to your brother, Aegon, sent shivers down your spine. They said Aegon barely escaped with his life, and though the details were murky, the truth was clear: Aemond had crossed a line no one dared to confront.
When he returned to you, his presence was as commanding as ever, his single eye gleaming with a cold determination that made your blood run cold. He acted as though nothing had happened, as though the events at Rookâs Rest were just another necessary step in a long and bloody war.
But you knew. You had heard the screams of guilt in your own mind, the horror at what he had done to his own kin. And yet, you couldnât bring yourself to say a word.
You sat together in the quiet of your chambers, the firelight casting shadows across his face. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. His calmness unsettled you.
âIs something troubling you?â he asked, his voice low, his gaze sharp as it turned toward you.
Your heart leapt in your chest, your hands tightening in your lap. For a moment, you considered speaking, considered asking him about what happened at Rookâs Rest. But the image of his fury, the cold, ruthless man you knew he could become, stopped you.
âNo,â you lied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. âNothing.â
Aemond watched you for a moment longer, his gaze piercing, as if he could see straight through your soul. Then he crossed the room, kneeling before you. His hand reached out, brushing against yours with a surprising gentleness.
âYou would tell me if there was, wouldnât you?â he asked, his voice softer now, but with an edge that sent a chill down your spine.
You nodded quickly, forcing a weak smile. âOf course.â
He studied you for a moment longer before standing, his fingers lingering against your hand for a second longer than necessary. âGood,â he said simply, turning away and walking toward the door.
As the door clicked shut behind him, you released the breath you hadnât realized you were holding. Your mind raced with the weight of the secret you were keeping, the fear of what might happen if you dared to confront him.
You loved Aemond with everything you had, but you also knew the danger that came with that love. And in the end, you were willing to bear the burden of silence, knowing that to challenge him might mean losing him entirely.
The morning sun bathed the gardens in a soft golden glow as you walked down the stone pathway, Aemond by your side. The air was cool and crisp, the scent of blooming flowers mingling with the faint saltiness of the sea breeze. Your hand rested lightly on your swollen belly, and with every step, Aemondâs presence beside you felt as steady and unyielding as ever.
He had been named Prince Regent in Aegonâs stead after your brother was left bedridden, unable to rule. The weight of responsibility now rested on Aemondâs shoulders, and while others might have buckled under such pressure, he seemed to thrive in it. His sharp mind and ruthless determination were exactly what the realm needed in these uncertain times.
As you paused near a marble bench, Aemond stopped beside you. His gaze softened as it shifted from your face to your belly. Without a word, he reached out, his hand warm and firm as it gently stroked the curve of your stomach. The simple gesture, filled with an unexpected tenderness, made your heart ache.
âYou should rest more,â he said, his voice quiet but resolute. âThe child needs you strong.â
You smiled faintly, your fingers brushing against his hand. âAnd you? Do you not need rest as well? The council takes so much of your time.â
He smirked, a rare flicker of amusement crossing his face. âThe council is full of fools. I donât need rest to deal with them.â
His confidence was unshakable, and while it sometimes frustrated you, it also reassured you. He would not falter, not for anything or anyone.
Aemond leaned down, pressing a fleeting kiss to your forehead, a gesture so brief it might have been missed by anyone watching. Then he straightened, his icy demeanor returning as he prepared to face the dayâs challenges.
âI must go,â he said, his voice returning to its usual sharpness. âThe council awaits.â
You nodded, watching as he turned and walked away, his black cloak billowing behind him. His steps were purposeful, each one echoing with the authority of a man who knew he was in control.
For a moment, you lingered in the garden, your hand resting on your belly. The child within you stirred slightly, as if responding to its fatherâs touch. Aemond might be a man of fire and ice, but in these fleeting moments, you saw the softer side of himâa side he reserved only for you and the life you carried.
As you made your way to Aegonâs chambers, your steps were slow, burdened by a weight you couldnât shake. The corridor was quiet, save for the faint rustling of servants going about their duties. When you reached the heavy oak door, you hesitated for a moment before pushing it open.
The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn to shield your brother from the harsh morning light. Aegon lay motionless on the grand bed, his face pale and drawn, a stark contrast to the once vibrant and arrogant man you had known. The faint scent of milk of the poppy lingered in the air, a reminder of the only thing keeping him from the agony of his injuries.
You stepped closer, your heart twisting with guilt as you looked at him. His chest rose and fell in steady breaths, his face peaceful in his drugged sleep. For a moment, you could almost pretend he was simply resting, that nothing was wrong. But the bandages wrapped around his body told the truth you couldnât deny.
You sat down on the edge of his bed, your hand trembling as it hovered over his. Finally, you let your fingers brush lightly against his, a silent gesture of comfort he wouldnât even feel.
âIâm sorry,â you whispered, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. âIâm so sorry, Aegon.â
Your throat tightened as you fought back tears. You knew you couldnât say these words to Aemond, couldnât confront him about what heâd done to your brother at Rookâs Rest. But here, in the quiet of this room, you could let your guilt pour out.
âThis wasnât supposed to happen,â you continued, your voice shaking. âHe⌠Aemond⌠He doesnât see things the way we do. He believes what he did was necessary, but Iââ You stopped, the words catching in your throat. âI should have stopped him. I should have done something.â
Aegon didnât stir, his slumber too deep to be interrupted by your whispered confessions. But somehow, speaking the words aloud made the weight on your chest feel just a little lighter.
âI donât know if youâll ever forgive him,â you murmured, tears sliding down your cheeks now. âOr me. But I swear to you, Aegon, I will make sure he doesnât harm you again. I wonât let this happen again.â
You sat there for a while longer, your hand still resting lightly on his. The guilt still lingered, but so did the resolve. You would find a way to make amends, even if it meant standing against the man you loved most in the world.
You spent hours in Aegonâs room, sitting quietly by his side. The book you held was one you thought he might enjoyâsomething light, perhaps even amusing, to ease his troubled mind. You knew, deep down, that Aegon had never been one for books. He had always preferred action to words, the thrill of battle to the quiet comfort of a story. But today, you read anyway. It was more for yourself than for him, a small act of solace amidst the heavy silence that filled the room.
As your voice softened and you turned the pages, you could almost pretend everything was as it should be. But the weight of the situation lingered, and you couldnât escape the gnawing guilt that still tugged at you, the guilt of what had transpired at Rookâs Rest.
Just as you read the final lines of a chapter, the door to Aegonâs room creaked open. You looked up, surprised, as your mother stood in the doorway, her posture regal and unyielding, yet there was something soft in her expression as she observed you. Behind her stood Aemond, his figure just as imposing as always, his presence a shadow in the doorway.
For a moment, time seemed to freeze. You quickly closed the book, your eyes flicking between your mother and your brother, knowing exactly what this visit would mean.
âMother,â you greeted her, rising from your seat. âHusband.â
Your mother gave a small nod, her eyes softening briefly as she looked at you. âHow is Aegon?â she asked, her voice full of concern as she walked over to the side of the bed, her gaze landing on her eldest son.
âHe is still asleep,â you replied softly, your voice betraying the exhaustion you hadnât realized you were carrying. âThe milk of the poppy keeps him in a deep sleep.â
Aemondâs gaze never left you, his single eye narrowed slightly, as though scrutinizing every movement, every word. There was something unreadable in his expression, something far colder than the warmth your mother radiated.
âHow long do you intend to stay here?â Aemondâs voice cut through the silence, his tone sharp, though there was a hint of something else beneath the edgeâsomething like concern, but harder to place.
You met his gaze, your stomach tightening. âAs long as it takes,â you replied, your voice firm but weary. âHeâs my brother, Aemond. He needs me.â
Aemondâs lips tightened into a thin line, but he said nothing. His silence spoke volumesâhe disapproved, no doubt. But then, a flicker of understanding passed between you, a silent acknowledgment that you were doing what you believed was right.
Your mother placed a gentle hand on Aegonâs forehead, her fingers brushing his hair back as she gazed down at him with love and worry in her eyes. âHeâll recover,â she said quietly, though there was doubt in her voice. âHeâs strong, like his father.â
But you knew, in your heart, that Aegonâs strength alone might not be enough to recover from the wounds he had sufferedânot just the physical ones, but the emotional scars that lingered from the events that had torn your family apart.
Aemond stepped forward then, his presence filling the room, and for a moment, you wondered what his intentions were. Would he seek to further distance you from Aegon? Or perhaps, you thought, he might simply leave, as he often did when the situation was less than ideal.
âYou should rest,â Aemond said to you, his voice softer now, though his eyes remained distant. âYouâve been here long enough.â
You wanted to argue, to remain by Aegonâs side until he awoke, but you knew your body was exhausted. Aemond was right in his own way, and you couldnât deny the exhaustion that weighed on you.
Your mother looked between you and Aemond, her gaze shifting uncomfortably. âI will stay with Aegon,â she said softly, offering you a small, reassuring smile. âGo rest, dear.â
You hesitated, but nodded in the end. âThank you, Mother.â
Before you left, you cast one final look at Aegon, your heart heavy with worry and regret. As the door closed behind you, you couldnât shake the feeling that everything was changingâand that nothing would ever be the same again.
You stood by the window, the soft light of the fading afternoon casting shadows across the room. The quiet was almost suffocating, the weight of the day pressing down on you. Your thoughts were scattered, tangled in the webs of what had happened, and what might yet come. Aemondâs presence had become both a comfort and a source of tension, and tonight, you felt the pull of it more keenly than ever.
The sound of the door opening barely registered at first, but when it did, you knew who it was without needing to turn. Aemond. You had grown so accustomed to the sound of his footsteps, the way the air seemed to change when he entered a room.
He didnât say anything as he stepped inside, the silence between you stretching out in a way that felt both intimate and fragile. The tension that hung in the air was almost palpable, but still, you didnât turn to face him. There were no words between youâno greeting, no acknowledgment of what was unsaid. Just the soft rustling of his movements, the quiet anticipation that only seemed to grow as the seconds passed.
Then, as if driven by some invisible force, Aemond stepped closer, his presence suddenly surrounding you. You felt the brush of his hand before you even knew what he was doingâhis fingers grazing the curve of your belly from behind. The touch was gentle, almost reverent, but it carried the weight of something unspoken. Something too deep to name.
You couldnât bring yourself to look at him, not yet. Not when the room felt too small and your heart too heavy with the knowledge of what had been, and what still was. His touch was a reminder of everythingâyour connection, your shared history, and the future you were both bound to, whether you wanted it or not.
Aemondâs fingers lingered on your skin, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. It was just the two of you, standing in this space where love, anger, and regret coiled together. You felt the warmth of his hand, the subtle pressure of his touch, and despite everything, you couldnât deny that it still affected you. It always had.
His voice, when it came, was soft but laced with a certain edge. âI feel him,â he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. âOur child. He grows stronger every day.â
Aemondâs words were not a question, but a statement of fact. You could hear the tenderness in his tone, the quiet pride he felt as he spoke of the life you both created. It was a side of him you rarely saw, and yet, it was the side that seemed to matter most now.
Still, you remained silent, your gaze fixed on the view outside. You couldnât bring yourself to turn, to face him and acknowledge what lay between you. You couldnât decide if you were afraid of the man he had become, or the man he was still capable of being.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Aemondâs hand withdrew, but the room remained heavy with the unspoken words, the shared history that neither of you could ignore. You still hadnât turned to look at him. Still, you knew he was there, watching, waiting.
The silence in the room grew thicker as you finally turned to face him. Aemond stood there, his features cold, his posture rigid as if he were carved from stone. You could feel the tension in the air, a simmering undercurrent that seemed to pulse between you like a living thing. The distance between you both felt vast, though you were only a few feet apart.
Your heart beat faster as you swallowed the lump in your throat, the question you had been holding in for so long finally spilling out.
âIs all of this truly worth it, Aemond?â Your voice trembled, a mixture of anger, fear, and sorrow. âIs it worth the cost of what weâve done to our family? To Aegon?â
Aemondâs jaw tightened at the mention of your brotherâs name. The silence that followed was thick with an intensity that made your chest ache. His gaze didnât waver from yours, but the darkness in his eye began to surface. His fury, barely contained, was a palpable thing, swirling in the air around you.
You didnât look away, even as you felt the shift in the room, as if the very temperature dropped with his growing anger. âDo you think this⌠this revenge, this destruction of our own flesh and blood, will make you whole?â The words spilled out before you could stop them, a dam breaking under the pressure of years of pain. âDoes it satisfy you to see him broken, to know youâve taken so much from him?â
There was no immediate answer. Aemond didnât speak, but you could feel the weight of his anger pressing down on you. His lips pressed into a thin line, his eye narrowing dangerously. For a moment, you thought he might lash out, his fury spilling over into violence as it had so many times before. But he stayed still, like a predator at the edge of a hunt, waiting.
âYou speak as if you donât understand,â Aemondâs voice was low, almost a growl. âAs if you donât know why this had to happen.â His tone was dangerously calm, but it was clear that something inside him was breaking, something you had no control over. âYou ask if itâs worth itâdo you think I want this? Do you think I wanted him to lie in that bed, broken and helpless?â His words were sharp, his anger barely contained. âNo. I did what had to be done. And you should know that.â
You felt the heat of his words burn through you, the cold fury in his gaze like a slap to the face. But you didnât flinch. You refused to be cowed, even as your heart ached with the reality of the situation.
âHe is our brother, Aemond,â you whispered, your voice cracking with the weight of your emotions. âAnd he has always been loyal to you, even when you didnât deserve it. Was this truly the only way? To break him, to break us all?â
The tension in the room became unbearable as Aemond stepped closer, his presence looming over you. His gaze softened, but there was a hard edge to it now, a warning you couldnât ignore. He reached out, his hand grazing your cheek with unexpected tenderness, though it felt like an unspoken threat behind the touch.
âDonât question me, my wife,â he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. âYou are mine. And I will not tolerate you doubting what I have done. Not now. Not ever.â
A shiver ran down your spine, but you stood your ground. His anger, the fire that burned within him, was something you had known all your life. But now, it felt different. More intense, more consuming. And still, despite the fear gnawing at you, you held his gaze, refusing to back down.
âIâm not questioning you, Aemond,â you said softly, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. âIâm questioning whether this⌠this destruction is truly the only path we can walk. If we have any other choice, any chance of finding peace.â
Aemond didnât answer immediately. His fingers brushed against your skin one last time, and then he stepped back, his posture rigid once again, though there was something unreadable in his eyes now.
âYou will understand in time,â he said quietly, the coldness returning to his voice. âWhen you see the truth for what it is, you will know that I did what needed to be done.â
And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there in the silence, a thousand questions swirling in your mind, but no answers to grasp.
Before Aemond turned to leave the room, his words hung heavy in the air, each syllable a promise of more distance between you and him. He paused by the door, his back to you, but his voiceâso cold and matter-of-factâwas unmistakable.
âI am going to Harrenhal,â he said, his tone steady but devoid of any emotion. âI will take control of it. It is time to solidify our position.â
A shiver ran through you, a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. You were silent, waiting for him to say more, but he didnât. The way he spoke, with such finality, made it clear that his departure wasnât just for a short timeâit would be a while before he returned, if ever.
âYou need not wait for me,â Aemond added, his voice soft but laced with a cool detachment. âIt will be a long time before I return. Stay here, if you wish. But do not expect my presence.â
His words stung, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. You felt a pang of frustration, anger, andâdespite it allâa strange sense of longing. The emptiness his absence would bring was something you werenât sure you could bear, but you knew better than to ask him to stay. You knew better than to push him, not when his mind was so set on his course.
You stood frozen, watching him, but you couldnât find the words to stop him. What could you say to make him stay? What could you say to break through the walls he had built around himself?
Without a final glance back, Aemond left, the door clicking softly behind him, leaving you alone in the room with nothing but the hollow echo of his absence.
You wanted to scream, to ask him why he had to go, why everything seemed to be spiraling out of control. But the silence that followed was more deafening than any argument. You could only stare at the door, your heart heavy with the knowledge that, for the time being, he would be goneâlost to his plans, his ambitions, and his unyielding determination.
And you? You were left standing in the ruins of what had once felt like home, wondering if you would ever truly find a way to reach him again.
It had been more than a week since Aemond left for Harrenhal, and the ache of his absence grew heavier with each passing day. The weight of your pregnancy was becoming unbearable, both physically and emotionally. Your child could arrive any moment now, yet Aemond had not returned. The silence he left behind was deafening, a constant reminder of the distanceâboth physical and emotionalâthat now lay between you.
You sat by the window of your chambers, the same place where you had stood the night he told you he was leaving. Your hands rested protectively over your swollen belly, your mind swirling with thoughts you couldnât escape. Every kick, every movement of the life within you only deepened your longing for him, for his presence, for the reassurance only he could give.
And yet, he did not come.
Your heart ached with regret, the memory of that fateful night replaying in your mind over and over again. If only you hadnât questioned him about Aegon. If only you had stayed silent, accepted his actions without challenge. Maybe then he wouldnât have left so abruptly. Maybe then, he would be here now, by your side, where you needed him most.
Tears pricked your eyes, but you blinked them away. You couldnât cry. Not now. You had to be strongâfor your child, if not for yourself. But the pain in your chest refused to fade, a constant reminder of how fragile everything felt without him.
The maesters and midwives had warned you to rest, to save your strength for the labor that could begin at any moment. But how could you rest when your heart was so heavy? How could you find peace when the man you loved, the father of your child, was so far away?
The thought of giving birth without him filled you with dread. You had imagined him there, his hand in yours, his voice steadying you through the pain. You had imagined his first glimpse of your child, the way his cold exterior would melt at the sight of new life. But now, those hopes seemed like distant dreams, fading with each passing day.
You turned your gaze to the horizon, where the faint glow of the setting sun painted the sky in shades of gold and crimson. Somewhere out there, Aemond was waging his battles, securing his victories, unawareâor perhaps uncaringâof how much you needed him. You whispered his name softly, a plea carried on the wind, though you knew it would never reach him.
âAemond,â you murmured, your voice trembling with sorrow. âPlease⌠come back to me.â
The room grew quiet again, the stillness wrapping around you like a suffocating shroud. And as the first stars began to appear in the darkening sky, you could only hope that he would return before it was too lateâbefore your child arrived, before the distance between you became something that even love couldnât mend.
The next morning, the news reached you, carried on hushed whispers and hesitant glances from the servants who dared not meet your eyes. Aemond had sought the warmth of another, a bastard girl named Alys Rivers, in Harrenhal. The words struck you like a blade to the chest, the pain so sharp and immediate that you couldn't breathe.
Your mind refused to process it at first. No, it couldn't be true. Not Aemond. Not your Aemond. He had promised himself to you, bound not just by duty but by the bond you thought you shared. The very idea of him seeking comfort elsewhere while you carried his child felt like a cruel, twisted joke.
The room began to spin, your vision blurring as the weight of the betrayal crashed down on you. Your breaths came shallow and fast, panic overtaking you as the world around you grew faint.
Without realizing it, your hands had gripped the edge of the table in front of you, your knuckles white from the strain. A sharp pain in your abdomen made you gasp, and you looked down to see the crimson trail beginning to stain the hem of your gown. Blood. It was pooling beneath you, dripping onto the floor in a rhythm that matched the pounding of your heart.
The world tilted, and you swayed on your feet, your body betraying you as the weight of everything became too much to bear.
"Princess!" a servant cried out, rushing to your side as you began to collapse. Their hands caught you, but the panic in their voice only made everything worse.
"Fetch the maester!" another voice called.
"Quickly!"
You clutched your swollen belly instinctively, your heart racing as fear and despair collided within you. The child. Your child. Was something happening? Was your grief for Aemond harming the one thing that mattered most?
You tried to speak, to ask for help, but no words came. Tears streamed down your face as you were lowered onto a chaise, the cold sweat on your skin making you shiver despite the warmth of the room.
"Stay with us, princess," the servant urged, their voice trembling. "The maester will be here soon."
Your mind raced as the pain intensified, each stab in your abdomen a cruel reminder of everything you were enduring. Aemond. The betrayal. The child. The blood. It was all too much, too overwhelming. You closed your eyes, focusing on the life within you, clinging to the hope that it wasn't too late-that you hadn't lost the one thing you were holding onto.
As the maester arrived and the chaos around you grew louder, one thought consumed you: Aemond had to return. If not for you, then for the child. If not now, then before everything truly fell apart.
You lay on your bed, your body trembling as wave after wave of pain surged through you. Sweat coated your brow, and your breaths came in shallow gasps, each one a battle to keep going. Your heart clung to the fragile hope that the approaching footsteps outside your chamber belonged to Aemond. Surely, he had heard of your condition. Surely, he had returned.
The door creaked open, and your gaze snapped toward it, desperation shining in your eyes. But instead of Aemond, it was your mother, Alicent, who entered.
Her face was pale, her expression a mixture of panic and deep concern as she hurried to your side. âOh, my sweet girl,â she whispered, kneeling beside you and taking your hand in hers. Her touch was warm, grounding, but it couldnât erase the ache in your chest or the agony in your body.
âWhere is he?â you asked, your voice weak and trembling as tears welled in your eyes. âWhere is Aemond?â
Alicent hesitated, the question clearly cutting into her as deeply as it did you. She didnât answer, but the look in her eyes was enough. He wasnât coming. Not yet.
âYou must focus now,â Alicent said gently but firmly, brushing the damp hair from your forehead. âThe maester is on his way. You must save your strength for the baby. For your child.â
Her words barely reached you through the haze of pain and despair. You wanted to scream, to cry out that it wasnât fair, that you couldnât do this without him. But the next contraction tore through you, stealing your breath and forcing you to clutch your belly.
Alicent squeezed your hand tightly, her own fear barely concealed behind the mask of composure she wore for your sake. âIâm here, my love,â she said softly, her voice steady. âI wonât leave you. Youâre not alone.â
But you felt alone. Aemondâs absence was like a gaping wound, and the betrayal that lingered in your mind made the pain all the worse. The thought of him with another while you endured this moment alone was unbearable.
Your grip on Alicentâs hand tightened as another contraction wracked your body, and you let out a strained cry. Alicentâs voice was soothing, her touch unwavering as she leaned closer, whispering words of comfort.
âThe gods have given you the strength to do this,â she said, her tone resolute. âYou are stronger than you know, my daughter. And you will bring this child into the world, no matter who stands beside you.â
Tears streamed down your cheeks as you nodded weakly, her words offering a fragile thread of resolve to cling to. You had to do this. For your child. For the one part of Aemond you still held onto, even as your heart broke in his absence.
You gripped your motherâs hand tightly, your nails digging into her skin as another wave of pain coursed through you. Alicent didnât flinch, her other hand brushing your damp hair from your face as she murmured soft reassurances.
The maester stood at the foot of your bed, his voice calm but firm as he gave you instructions. âNow, my lady, you must push with all your strength. The child is almost here.â
Your breathing was ragged, your entire body trembling with exhaustion, but you nodded. Summoning every ounce of strength left within you, you bore down, crying out as you pushed. The pain was unlike anything youâd ever known, but you didnât stop. You couldnât stop.
âYouâre doing so well, my love,â Alicent encouraged, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. âJust a little more. For the child. For yourself.â
Her words lit a fire in you, and you pushed again, tears streaming down your face as you gave it everything you had. Every thought in your mind focused on one thing: bringing your child into the world.
You thought of Aemond. Of his face, his voice, the way his hand had rested on your belly before he left. This child was his, a piece of him, and they deserved to meet their father. Even if he wasnât here now, you clung to the hope that he would return.
With one final, agonizing push, the pressure released, and you heard itâa sharp, clear cry that pierced the room and filled your heart with overwhelming relief and joy.
âItâs a boy,â the maester announced, his voice carrying a rare note of warmth. He quickly wrapped the baby in a soft cloth and handed him to Alicent, who brought him to you.
Your hands trembled as you took him, his tiny body fitting perfectly against your chest. His cries quieted as you held him close, and for a moment, the pain and fear faded, replaced by pure, unadulterated love.
âHeâs perfect,â Alicent whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she stroked your hair. âYouâve done so well, my sweet girl.â
Tears spilled freely down your cheeks as you gazed at your son, his silver hair glinting in the dim light. You kissed his forehead gently, your heart swelling with pride and protectiveness.
âAemond,â you whispered, your voice barely audible. âHeâll want to meet you. Heâll need you.â
But Aemond wasnât there, and the ache of his absence returned, even as your sonâs warmth filled your arms. You swore to yourself, in that moment, that no matter what, you would protect this child. You would give him all the love and strength you could, even if his father remained distant.
Still, as you cradled your newborn, a faint, desperate hope flickered within you. Aemond would return. He had to. For your son. For the family you had created together.
The relief of holding your newborn son in your arms was short-lived as another sharp pain gripped your body, more intense than before. You winced, gasping as the sensation spread through you, making you clutch the bedding with trembling hands.
âWhatâs happening?â you whispered, your voice weak and laced with fear.
The maester, who had been tending to you, looked up sharply. His expression grew grim as he examined you again. âPrincess,â he began carefully, âit appears you are carrying twins. The second child has yet to be delivered.â
The words hit you like a thunderclap. Twins? Another baby? You glanced at your mother, Alicent, whose face had gone pale with worry.
âBut thereâs⌠something else,â the maester continued hesitantly. âThe second child is positioned breech.â
A fresh wave of panic swept through you, stealing your breath. You turned to Alicent, your eyes wide and filled with terror. âMotherâŚâ you whispered, your voice trembling.
Alicent leaned closer, her hands gently cupping your face as she tried to calm you. âIâm here, my love,â she said softly, though her voice shook with worry. âWeâll get through this. Youâll get through this. Do you hear me?â
Tears welled in your eyes as you nodded weakly, though fear still clawed at the edges of your mind. You knew the risks of a breech birth. You had heard the stories whispered in the Red Keep, of women who had suffered greatly in such labors.
The maester spoke again, his tone steady but firm. âPrincess, this will be difficult. You must gather your strength and push when I tell you. We will do everything in our power to ensure both you and the child survive this.â
You swallowed hard, clutching Alicentâs hand tightly as the pain began to mount once more. The child you carried deserved a chance at life, just as much as the one already in your arms. No matter the fear coursing through you, you had to see this through.
âMother,â you murmured, your voice cracking. âIâm scared.â
Alicentâs gaze softened, tears glistening in her eyes as she pressed a kiss to your forehead. âYou are the strongest woman I know,â she said, her voice filled with conviction. âYou brought your first child into this world. You can do it again. Iâm here with you, and I wonât leave your side.â
Her words gave you a flicker of strength, and you nodded, bracing yourself for what was to come. The maester gave the command to push, and with Alicentâs hand in yours, you bore down once more, fighting through the pain and fear for the sake of the life still waiting to meet the world.
The maesterâs voice rang in your ears, firm and steady despite the chaos in your body. âNow, princess. Push! With everything you have!â
Tears streamed down your face, your body trembling with exhaustion as you gripped the bedding tightly. Alicent held your hand, her other hand brushing the damp hair from your forehead as she whispered soothing words. âYouâre so close, my love. Just a little more. You can do this.â
Summoning every ounce of strength left within you, you bore down, crying out as you gave it your all. The pain was searing, the effort monumental, but you didnât stop. You couldnât.
Time seemed to stretch, every second dragging like an eternity until, finally, the pressure eased, and the room was filled with the sound of a newbornâs first, piercing cry.
âItâs a girl,â the maester announced, his voice softer now, almost reverent.
Alicentâs face lit up with relief and pride, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at you. âYou did it,â she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. âYouâve done it, my darling.â
The maester carefully wrapped your daughter in a soft cloth before handing her to Alicent, who brought her to you. Your hands trembled as you reached out, cradling your daughter against your chest. She was so small, so perfect, her silver hair already glinting in the dim light.
You stared at her in awe, your heart swelling with love and gratitude. âSheâs beautiful,â you whispered, your voice breaking as tears of joy spilled down your cheeks.
The little girlâs cries softened as she settled in your arms, her tiny hand curling around your finger. You leaned down and kissed her forehead, your tears falling onto her soft skin.
Alicent stroked your hair gently, her own tears still flowing as she watched the tender moment. âTwo perfect children,â she said softly, her voice full of pride. âYouâve given the realm a miracle, my love.â
Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on you, you smiled through your tears, holding your daughter close as your son rested nearby. In that moment, the pain and fear faded, replaced by a profound sense of peace.
You had brought your children into the world, and no matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew you would protect them with everything you had.
Your body felt heavy, every breath shallow and labored as you lay back against the pillows. The world around you blurred, the edges of your vision darkening, and the voices of those in the room sounded distant, muffled.
Alicentâs voice broke through the haze, frantic and trembling. âStay with me, my love. Please. Stay with me!â She gripped your hand tightly, her tears falling onto your skin, but her words felt far away.
Your lips trembled as you struggled to speak, your voice barely a whisper. âMotherâŚâ you murmured, your gaze flickering toward her. âIâm⌠sorry.â
âNo, no apologies,â Alicent cried, her voice breaking as she leaned closer. âYou have nothing to apologize for. Please, just hold on!â
A single tear slid down your cheek as your thoughts drifted to Aemond. âTell him⌠Iâm sorry,â you whispered, your voice faint and weak. âTell him⌠I loved him.â
Your eyes fluttered closed, the weight of exhaustion too much to bear. Alicentâs panicked cries grew louder, but you could no longer focus on her words. Your breaths grew slower, more labored, until they faded entirely.
Alicentâs scream filled the room, raw and desperate. âNo! She canât be gone! Do something!â
The maester stepped back, his face pale and grim as he shook his head. âThe blood loss⌠it was too great. Her body was too weak after the second birth.â
Alicent collapsed to her knees beside your bed, her sobs shaking her entire frame as she clung to your lifeless hand. The room was heavy with silence, save for the soft cries of your newborn daughter and the muffled cries of your motherâs heartbreak.
Your children were aliveâtwo perfect children with silver hair and the Targaryen legacy flowing through their veins. But you, their mother, had given everything to bring them into the world, leaving behind only memories and the deep ache of loss for those who loved you.
When news reached Aemond, it would be a blow that no sword or fire could rival.
Alicent sat silently in the Sept, her hands clasped tightly in her lap as her tear-filled gaze remained fixed on you. Draped in white, you looked peaceful yet unnaturally still, your once-bright eyes forever closed. The candles surrounding you cast flickering light across your face, a stark contrast to the grief that consumed the room.
Her tears had not stopped flowing since your passing. You had been her strength, her light amidst the darkness of court politics and family betrayals. Now, all that remained was an unbearable emptiness.
The heavy creak of the Sept doors broke the stillness, drawing Alicentâs attention. Her breath caught as Aemond stepped through, his expression unreadable. His strides were slow but purposeful, his eye fixed on you as though he couldnât believe what he was seeing.
He stopped before your lifeless body, his tall frame trembling. His face was pale, his jaw clenched tightly as his hands curled into fists at his sides. For a moment, he didnât move, didnât speak, as if time itself had stopped.
Then, slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against your cold cheek. âWake up,â he whispered, his voice hoarse, almost pleading.
There was no response, only the deafening silence that had haunted him since he first heard the news.
Aemondâs breaths grew heavier, his eye glistening with unshed tears as he gently shook your shoulder. âDonât do this to me,â he said, his voice breaking. âYell at me. Tell me I was wrong. Curse me, fight meâbut donât leave me like this.â
Still, you didnât move.
He sank to his knees beside you, his head bowing as his hand gripped yours tightly. âI thought I had time,â he murmured, his voice filled with anguish. âI thought I could make it right.â
Alicent watched her son in silence, her heart breaking anew at the sight of his pain. She had seen Aemondâs coldness, his strength, his unyielding resolve. But thisâthis raw, unfiltered griefâwas something she had never seen before.
âYou were everything,â Aemond whispered, his tears finally falling as he rested his forehead against your still hand. âYou were my other half, my twin, my wife. How am I meant to go on without you?â
The Sept was silent save for his quiet sobs, the sound of a man who had lost not just his wife, but a piece of his soul.
Alicent stood by the alter, her grief-stricken face hardening with sorrowful anger as she looked at Aemond. His presence, his raw pain, was almost too much to bear. She knew how deeply he had loved you â as your mother, she had seen it from the moment you and Aemond had been betrothed. And yet now, there he was, crumbling in the face of the consequences of his own choices.
âYou heard, didnât you?â Alicent said softly, her voice laced with both sadness and reproach. âYou heard the whispers. The truth of what happened. That you, my son, betrayed the woman who gave everything to bring your children into this world.â
Aemondâs head shot up, his face twisting with anguish, as though her words had struck him with the force of a dagger. His lips trembled, but no words came. The guilt gnawed at him, sharp and unforgiving.
âYou did this,â Alicent continued, her voice low but piercing. âYou sought comfort in another womanâAlys Riverâand now, here we are. Your wife is dead. My daughter is dead. You killed her, Aemond. Not with your hands, but with your heart. And it tore her apart.â
His body shook, and for a moment, it seemed as though he might collapse under the weight of the realization. His eye, usually so fierce and cold, now appeared hollow with the depth of his self-loathing.
âI never meant for it to be like this,â Aemond whispered, his voice cracked with pain. He wiped his face with his sleeve, but it did little to stop the tears. âI didnât want to lose her. I⌠I thought I could fix everything. I was wrong. I killed her⌠I killed her with my betrayal.â
Alicentâs expression softened ever so slightly, her eyes flickering with maternal compassion despite the anger still in her voice. âYou were too late, Aemond. Too late to save her. And now youâll have to live with the consequences of your choices.â
He fell to his knees, his hands clutching his head as if trying to tear the thoughts from his mind, but they remained. His voice, a broken whisper, echoed through the silence of the room.
âCurse me,â he murmured, his hands trembling. âI deserve this. I deserve every bit of this pain. I will never forgive myself for what Iâve done to her⌠to us.â
Alicent turned her gaze away for a moment, the depth of her sorrow for both of youâher daughter, gone too soon, and her son, destroyed by his own remorseâoverwhelming.
âForgiveness is a long road, Aemond,â she said quietly. âBut you must find it for yourself. Because itâs your future, your children, and the legacy of House Targaryen that remains. You canât change whatâs been done. But you can choose to live for them. For her.â
Aemondâs body heaved with silent sobs, and the weight of his actions, of his guilt, became the heaviest thing he had ever carried. The room was still, save for the soft cries of your children, unaware of the tragedy that had unfolded, of the terrible loss that would forever shape their lives.
And Aemond, broken and drowning in the sorrow of his mistakes, could only wish for a world where time could be rewound, and the love he had so carelessly broken could be mended. But in the end, he knew that would never happen.
Tag list : @danytar @zaldritzosrose @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @julessworldd @giirlinblack @callsignwidow
#hotd#hotd imagine#hotd aemond#aemond targaryen#hotd one shot#hotd x reader#aemond fanfiction#aemond x you#aemond fic#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond x reader#aemond x oc#aegon ii targaryen#prince aegon targaryen#aegon ii fanfic#hotd headcanon#hotd fanfic#hotd oc
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Love me like itâs the last thing youâll do.
This is the prequel to this Drabble
SMUT! MDNI!!
Itâs not proofread so if you find any mistakes donât be shy to DM me!! And Iâm always open for criticism and tips!
You and Mattheo had been dating for around 1 month, you kept your relationship Private for now because as much as he loved you⌠he was still scared of others viewing him as weak for actually having feelings, for being in love.
For the record, Mattheo Riddle has never been in a relationship nor romantically involved with any girl ever, it was all hookups and one night stands and so you understood that he wanted to take it slow, understanding his worries and fears.
The problem with that however is that you canât show affection to eachother in public, leading to others thinking youâre single and free to hit on⌠which Mattheo canât seem to handle very well.
Mattheo shoots you a quick text after some overly confident Gryffindor tried flirting with you.
âMy dorm. Now.â
That doesnât sound too good⌠You immediately make your way to his dorm, not bothering to knock, as always, you slowly push the door open revealing a frowning Mattheo pacing in his room. âWhy were you so close to him?â He immediately shoots and his tone confirms your bad feeling. âMattheo-â âWhy the fuck were you even with him? Did he make you laugh? Is he better? Did you flirt with him-?!â âMattheo.â
Your firm voice cuts through his questions and he looks at you as you step closer, standing right infront of him now. âWill you let me speak?ââ He runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but nods. âThank you.. no, I did not flirt with him, no he didnât make me laugh and no he isnât better than you. He came up to me and tried to flirt but I told him Iâm not interested and to use his awful flirting skills with someone else.â You cup his cheeks, rubbing your thumb back and forth gently. âYou know youâre the only one I allow to flirt with meâŚâ
Mattheos expression soften at your words and touch, feeling guilty for even thinking you would. âIâm sorry I just- I donât know⌠I hate when guys think they can flirt with you and have a chance with you.â He lifts one hand to cup yours thatâs on his cheek, squeezing lightly. You smile at his little gesture and apology, letting out a soft breath.
âItâs okay Matty⌠just next time let me speak first, yeah?â you chuckle softly, leaning up to press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose, making him let out a chuckle under his breath.
âI donât deserve youâŚâ he mutters lowly, looking at you like youâre the most precious living and breathing thing. You feel a light pink dust your cheeks, yet a frown finds its way to your lips. âMatty⌠you do deserve me.â you say softly, voice barely above a whisper and he just shakes his head. âBaby⌠youâre everything I never will be. Youâre soft, delicate, sweet⌠youâre like a ray of sunshine wherever you go. You make people happy just by smiling at them, your voice brings others comfort and warmth. Youâre every good thing bundled up into a person and I'm-" he sighs and sits down at the edge of his bed, looking down "and Iâm me.â he murmurs.
The frown on your face stays as you walk up to stand between his legs, cupping his cheeks to coax him to look up at you. âlook at me please my love..â you say softly, so much warmth in your tone that he canât help the way his heart flutters, the way he looks up at you so willingly. Heâd do anything if youâd just asked with that sweet voice of yours, one word, a simple syllable is enough to make him forget about everything else. âMattheo youâre you and thatâs what makes you so special.â you whisper, like sharing a secret with him âyou say youâre not sweet, kind nor soft⌠but when you touch me itâs like Iâm made out of the finest porcelain, when you talk to me I feel like Iâm floating, you go out of your way to do anything that might make me crack a smile and you always help me with everything even if I keep telling you I can do it myself.â You smile at him, stroking his cheek and he smiles back lightly âI know you can do it yourself.. but Iâm your boyfriend, I want to do it for you. You shouldnât have to lift a finger when Iâm around.â He takes one of your hands thatâs on his cheek and brings it to his mouth, brushing his lips against your knuckles. âThis is why you deserve me Mattheo⌠me and so much more.â You whisper, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips.
The kiss, supposed to be sweet, quickly gets deeper as he tangles one of his hands in your hair and his other pulls you onto his lap, pressing you flush against him. He nudges his tongue against your bottom lip, asking for entrance that you grant him so willingly. He pushes his tongue into your mouth, tasting you, exploring you like heâs done countless of times yet it still feels different. Softer, gentler, more passionate and like heâs pouring all of his love and affection into a single kiss. Itâs making both your heart swell with love as well as make your pussy throb with excitement and desire and you know Mattheos feeling the same because the second you grind your hips down onto his you feel his bulge pressing flush against you, the only thing separating you being his pants and your panties.
âFuck⌠baby I need you.â He murmur against your lips, his hands slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt, thumbs striking the undersides of your breasts as his mouth moves down to press hot opened mouthed kisses from your jaw down to the column of your throat.
âThen take me, Matty⌠Iâm only yours to take.â You breathe out, Mattheos eyes darkening as the words leave your mouth. âThatâs right⌠mine.â He murmurs against your skin and lifts your shirt up and over your head, leaning back to admire you. âMerlin⌠youâre beautiful. My beautiful, beautiful girl.. all mine baby.â He says under his breath, more to himself than to you.
His hands roam your body, squeezing and caressing whatever he can, all the while whispering sweet nothings against your skin. You let him, sitting in his lap all soft and pliant and patient, just letting him feel you and worship you however he wants. His hands reach your thighs, going up and under your skirt, his fingers playing with the hem of your panties. âYou gonna be a good girl and let me worship your pretty little body, baby?â He murmurs against your neck and all you can do is nod as your stomach flutters in the best way possible. âSo perfect, such a perfect girl for me hm?â He grins, pulling your panties down your legs and patting your thigh, silently telling you to stand so you do. He pulls them down completely, then slowly unzips your skirt, letting it drop and pool at your feet. You stand before him, bare as he finally unclasps your bra and removes the last piece of clothing thatâs preventing him from seeing all of you. He stands, towering above you as he grabs your waist and lays you down on the bed. âYouâre beautiful⌠fuck youâre so perfect, baby, I could look at you forever and never get bored of it.â He whispers under his breath, looking at you with soft eyes yet you see the hunger behind them, the simmering heat of desire heâs only ever had for you. You reach up, fingers tangling in his curls before coming down to cup his cheeks âI wanna see you too, Matty⌠please.â The second you utter please, whatever it is, Mattheo will always give you. So he leans down to peck your lips, a lingering kiss, before leaning back and taking off his shirt. Now itâs your eyes roaming over his body, unashamed desire on full display as well as admiration for his trained and scarred body. His hands go down his belt, undoing it quickly and then unzipping his pants, kicking them off and leaning back over you. âThat needs to go too.â You whisper with a smile and point to his black boxers, he grins back at you amusedly âsomeoneâs impatient.â You raise a brow at him âas if you want to wait any longer?â He chuckles at that, pressing kisses from your forehead to your cheek and then finally to your lips âI wanna take my time with you tonight, Angel. Let me show you I love you⌠how much you mean to me.â Your lips part slightly as you look up at him, he sounds so vulnerable and genuine⌠you could never deny him anything, not that you wanted to anyways so you nod, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. âIâm yours, Mattheo. Tonight, tomorrow, always.â He closes his eyes for a moment, heart beating dangerously fast and a smile graces his lips âand Iâm yours, Angel. Tonight, tomorrow, always.â
With that he starts pressing open mouthed kisses down your body, taking a nipple between his lips as he reaches your breasts, making you moan as he swirls his tongue around it, sucking, licking and kissing while his hand is caressing the other bud. Your hands tangle in his unruly curls, tugging slightly as he gently bites you, not being able to resist it. He pop off your right nipple with a pop, blowing cool air on the wet bud and making goosebumps raise on your entire body. He moves to the other, giving it the same attention before moving further down to your stomach, kissing and licking whatever he can. When he gets down to your hips, he sucks a hickey right above where your panties would be.
He moves lower and lower but right past where you need him most, making your squirm slightly and he smirks. âBe patient, baby⌠Iâll give you what you want, just be good a little longer.â He murmur against the inside of your thighs, biting you there gently and making you yelp slightly and tug at his hair. His tongue goes over the spot he bit gently, soothing the sting and saying sorry. He litters your thighs in hickeys and bite marks until your legs are clenching and trembling from the heat thatâs pooled right between your legs. âMatty pleaseâŚâ he chuckles slightly, looking up from between your legs âsuch good manners for meâŚâ he licks a long stripe up your pussy, making you moan out as your head drops back against the pillow.
He eats you out like a man starved, his tongue reaching whatever it can. He lifts your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your hips, one hand sprawled over your stomach possessively. Moans and whimpers tumble from your lips, his name on your tongue like a prayer as he devours you whole. The only thing on his mind is your pleasure, how to make you feel good⌠how he wants to be the only one to ever see you or make you feel this way, driven by those thoughts the dives in with even more fervour âI can feel you clench angel⌠cum for me, right on my tongue like a good girl.â
Those words push you over the edge, your whole body tensing up as you clench your thighs around his head and he swears heâs in heaven. He laps up your release, making you twitch and only when heâs made sure heâs got every last drop he lifts his head, crawling back over you and licking his lips âI might just need to give you a new nickname⌠you taste so sweet, fuck Iâd give up every meal on this planet if it meant I got to eat you for the rest of my life,â he murmurs with a smile and you look up at him, chest heaving with pants, small smile on your lips âso what will you call me?â He grins at that âI think sweetness would fit you quite well, wouldnât it?â That tears a small giggle from your lips, making Mattheo grin wider.
After calming down a bit, you tense up again as you feel his dick prodding at your entrance âoh you didnât think weâre done, did you?â He grins âIâd be disappointed if we were, Matty.â And with that he slowly pushes in, making sure you feel every inch of his rock hard cock as he splits you open. You gasp, clawing at his back, it was always difficult to take him but with his gentle words and soft coos it somehow seems so much more intense then all the times before.
âShhh Iâve got you angel, Iâve got you⌠relax for me, can you do that? Can you be a good girl and relax for me?â He coos softly on your ear, making you want to do whatever he asks without question so you try your best to relax for him. He feels your walls unclench the slightest but and smiles, pepper soft kisses along your face and jaw onceâs heâs fully inside you. âSo good for me⌠youâre doing so good, Iâm so proud of you.â He whispers against your skin and you canât help but clench around him again, making him groan.
He lets you adjust for a couple seconds until he pulls back until only his top remains and pushed back in, making you let out a loud moan. He grins and does it again, setting a slow rhythm, each thrust hard and deep, you swore you could feel him in your stomach. He grunts above you, small hisses and pants leaving his lips and itâs the hottest things youâve ever experienced.
He slowly picks up the pace, grabbing your hips with one hand while the other goes to your neck, squeezing lightly which oddly brings you comfort. âMatty..!â Your breathless voice rings out and Mattheo cant help but go harder, almost pounding into you before pulling out completely, a whine slipping from your lips. But before you could get any word of protest out he grabs you and turns you around, hands and knees digging into the mattress as he slips back inside on one long thrust. âIâm gonna take you like this and youâre gonna love it, okay?â He leans down, his chest pressing against your back as his one hand slips down to press against your stomach while he moves in and out of you. âF-fuck⌠Mattheo oh my god..!â You feel him deep inside you, so much more intensely then before and your face drops into the sheets as he pounds into you from behind.
âFuck youâre amazing⌠I love you much, can you feel how deep Iâm inside you? No one will ever get that deep because You. Are. Mine.â Each word is punctuated with a hard thrust, your eyes roll back and in that moment all you think about is him, how he makes you feel and how youâll only ever be his for the rest of your life. The hand on your stomach reaches down, playing with your clit as he pounds into you impossibly faster âcome with me, sweetness. Come on my cock while I come inside you.â He breathes into your ear and you all but comply, clenching around him tightly and coming for the second time that night with a loud moan of his name.
He rides out your orgasm, his thrusts growing sloppy and with a few more his body jerks and he sheaths himself deep inside you, filling you up with his hot cum as you twitch from the feeling. You fall onto the mattress and he rolls you over onto your back before collapsing on top of you, his head buried in your neck as you both try to catch your breaths.
âI love youâŚâ
Im so sorry for being inactive guys, Iâve been a bit stressed lately. Take this as an apology and happy New years! Love all of you <3
~Princess
Taglist: @revesephemeres @ur-local-wizard
#slytherin#slytherin boys#harry potter#hogwarts houses#mattysprincess#mattheo riddle oneshot#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo x you#mattheoxreader#mattheo x y/n#mattheo smut#mattheo imagine#mattheo riddle
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It's wild how on one side of my dash I see people talking about the real issues of transmasc erasure, "you're taking our lesbians away" terf rhetoric, and the ways that trans men are expected to accept ostracisation within leftist spaces without ever advocating for themselves...
Meanwhile on the other side, I see lots of "The MRA's are back, anyone that speaks about transmasc issues are transmisogynists, if you didn't immediately decide transandrophobia is an invalid concept then you're a bigot" type hysteria and it all just pisses me off.
Like trans men will spend their entire life til now perceived as women, expected to be quiet, expected to obey and be a resource to others without taking up too much space or having needs themselves. And upon realizing they're trans, finding their community, and thinking maybe this is a place they can find some modicum of comfort, the community says "no."
We don't want your voice or your struggles, because it doesn't fall in line with the rhetoric. It's not a part of the theory.
SJ theory generalizes, that's the nature of it. It's used to describe society as a whole, and how systemic oppressions operate. Broad academic theory isn't meant to for you to apply it precisely the same way to the individual.
That's what being intersectional is supposed to be about! You're not supposed to say "well systemically men are oppressors, so this man I just met is actively looking to oppress me" when you meet a homeless black man in a wheel chair.
I'm just so tired of the dynamic where in leftist spaces we can't share our stories and pain because they have to align with our ideas of who's the oppressor or not.
To this day, I feel terrified to open up about the fact that an older woman sexually assaulted me as a teen, because I'm so afraid someone will say I'm just targeting lesbians, or that my story promotes predatory stereotypes and shouldn't be shared. I can't talk about shit like that because I know that outside my closest friends, others in leftists spaces don't want to hear about that.
This is all over the place but I'm just so frustrated. Seeing people that have been boiling over, keeping their mouth shut, playing nice even when it's unfair to them, daring to open their mouths to speak all the while trying to be careful, only to still get attacked and made into bigots.
It's like there's no amount of bowing and saying your troubles are meaningless and insisting other people have it worse that will let you be "allowed" to talk about what hurts you.
We're supposed to be past one-upmanship and oppression olympics, it's not about who's had it worse it's about what we can fucking do about it TOGETHER.
And that means being able to drop your academic theory and shit to engage with the people in your community as fucking human beings. That means being able to seriously consider the validity of criticism instead of knee-jerk rejecting it.
Also please stop accusing literally anyone talking about intra-community bullying of talking over people being killed or shit like that, you know damn well that people are capable of caring about multiple issues
#Not long ago I had a bunch of hate anons on my side blog#Saw a trans guy in the replies to a post made by a trans woman express that he related and felt solidarity#He got dogpiled and bullied and cursed and even after all that he apologized and said he would try to do better#Not a single person even expressed kindness after the apology#So I decided to reply and just say that it's cool he wanted to express solidarity and people were being a bit cruel#Dear lord the hateful anons I got#I was tagged in an impromptu call out post calling me âan Aidenâ and basically saying I'm peak transmisogyny#When I said I wasn't even a trans guy I was told I must be trying to bait because my gender isn't in my about on that account...#The most unbelievable thing to me is that when pressed further I admitted to being intersex#And that was treated as some kind of cop out#It was clear that wasn't the desired answer because it didn't tell them about my genitalia#Having a trans woman interrogate my identity and attempt to sus out my genitalia is something that only happens with supreme hypocrisy#It's insane right now#transadrophobia#trans community
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clan leader!satoru, whose smile isnât actually a. . . smile. it serves as a gentle (yet not-so-gentle) threat to whomever it is dedicated to. a lot of the gojo clan members, as well as members from other noble clans, have heard of that infamous smile and know of its true meaning.
ever since marrying you, that smile often finds its way onto his lips. itâs not because of you, but rather because of the ones interacting with you. satoru didnât ever expect to feel so possessive about someone he initially didnât care for.
a marriage of convenience is all that your relationship was for. it purely existed for the sake of a connection between two famous families. your first weeks together have been awkward. any form of affection - any touches or loving words - were for the sake of his image.
however that all was fated to change: satoru eventually found himself falling for his wife.
your kind personality, your subtle smiles, the embarrassed expression on your face whenever he teased you in front of others even if it was all a faux display- an act of being all lovey-dovey. your inner and outer beauty was slowly becoming more apparent to the white-haired man.
you donât know when it started. you canât recall why satoru is suddenly acting affectionate even behind closed doors. usually, heâd drop the act the second youâre in your chambers. now he continues to compliment you, pepper you with chaste kisses as long as you allowed him to⌠even refer to you as his âdearâ, âpretty girlâ or âsweetheartâ to your face like itâs nothing.
you shrug off your own guards and maids when they curiously inform you about their lordâs sudden change of personality, which was supposedly all because of you.
âah, my wife,â satoruâs voice echoes above the loud chatter in the main hall. you turn your head and find your heart racing for some reason as he addresses you in that gentle tone.
he makes his way through the crowd, eyes never leaving your face, even as other important figures try to catch his attention to talk business. âi was greatly worried about you,â your husband sighs.
a gloved hand cups your face and satoru leans in, his glossy lips inches from yours. youâd think this was part of the fake arrangement, but thereâs this genuine hint of adoration behind his cerulean eyes that you cannot ignore.
âiâ my apologies,â you murmur softly, eyes darting around the room while you try to ignore the loud thumping of your heart. âi was simply talking to one of the guards,â you explain and nod your head to the bulky man standing next to you.
the guard respectfully bows to satoru the second you introduce him. your husband doesnât respond for a single second, his fingers twitching lightly at his side. he canât stand the thought of you talking to another man while he isnât around.
is it for your own safety? or is it because heâs jealous and immediately wants to get rid of any man who dares speak to his precious wife? perhaps itâs a mixture of both.
âi see,â satoru replies. his eyes darken for a second before he catches himself. the corners of his lips curl upwards, though the smile doesnât quite reach his eyes.
that familiar sight makes you nervous. youâve seen it before, when your husband would subtly threaten others for whatever reason, while hiding his true feelings behind that smile.
âwell,â satoru continues, his arm wrapping around your waist. he pulls you against his side and places a kiss on top of your head while glaring at the guard through his white eyelashes.
âthank you for keeping my wife safe,â the clan leader says through that tight smile, trying to keep it as âgenuineâ looking as possible. he has a reputation and image to uphold after all.
youâre about to say something, but are cut off as satoru adds another comment. âiâm here now, so you can return to your post.â
it isnât a suggestion. it is an orderâ a command. a disguised threat.
the guard immediately picks up on the subtle hint and nods without saying a word before walking back to his spot at the doors. you can hear the faint whispers from others as they also seem to recognise that change in satoruâs demeanour.
itâs not like youâre totally oblivious to whatâs happening either. you look up at satoru and place a hand on his chest, trying to catch his attention. âsatoru,â you whisper his name.
the white-haired man immediately snaps out of it and excitedly shoots you that boyish smile of his instead of the fake, cold one he wore on his face just a second ago.
âyou called, my dear?â satoru tilts his head, bringing a hand to rest over yours on his chest. your eyes widen a bit at the way he seems to relax and look at you with that same devoted gaze.
you donât think itâs an act anymore. the words die on your tongue and you canât recall what you wanted to say anymore. those sparkling blue eyes and charming smile have you rendered speechless.
ââŚitâs nothing,â you mutter under your breath. you have no clue how youâve managed to turn that once, cocky, overly confident and cold-hearted ruler into a total softie for you. itâs something you still need to process yourself.
satoru doesnât leave your side for the rest of the night, glaring at the men who pass by, shooting them that fake, threatening smile if they looked like they desired to converse with you.
youâre his wife, and thatâs that. he silently wonders when youâll realise that he actually fell for you. perhaps you are already aware of it, but hide it from him on purpose.
whatever the case is, satoru will make sure that you know his true feelings for you. one day he will tell you those three words explicitlyâ if it wasnât obvious enough through his sudden change of behavior.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#jjk fluff#gojo fluff#jjk x you#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jjk x y/n#jjk x female reader#gojo x female reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#is this a tease to my other clan!leader gojo fic? perhaps.... :D
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ticci toby nsfw headcanons đ𤲠canât express how much i love your hcâs bro its so good đĽšđ pls keep cooking
âTicci Toby Relationship HCsâ
CW: NSFW, f!reader
THANK YOU SO MUCH! This ask single-handedly brought me out of my writing slump. I went ahead and added SFW dating HCs as well, a little bonus đ Also Iâm in a leg brace from soccer so Iâm stuck in bed.
â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘
â
SFWâ
- This guy has got a LOT on his mental plate, be prepared for that.
- He is 100% a friends to lovers type of guy. Heâs not easily trusting, so that relationship really has to be built up.
- When he does have a crush on someone he beats himself up about it because he feels so stupid for thinking youâd ever like him back.
- Moving onto actually dating him, he is so so so insecure. Lots of reassurance is needed, but if youâre able to get through to him he eventually realizes you actually like him.
- Crazy touch starved. In the first few months of dating heâs super unsure of if he can kiss you or even put his arm around you, heâs HORRIFIED of crossing any boundaries and you leaving. Youâll probably have to make the first move.
- He most likely wonât be the one to ask you out. If youâve known eachother for a while and heâs feeling a little confident thereâs a possibility, but in his mind heâd rather stay friends and get to see you rather than get rejected and you not talk to him anymore.
- LOVES going on dates with you, but heâs a ball of anxiety. It should be easy to cool him down and let him know youâre enjoying it, heâs just so worried about if youâre happy or not.
- Usually thinks going on walks or sitting on a curb together is like the perfect date, ESPECIALLY in the fall. He keeps an old camera on him that he got from Brian so he can make little home videos and capture the moments you spend together.
- Picks up cool leaves, glass shards, or other things left in the forest and makes sure to show you.
- Heâs actually not an awful cook. Heâs a fast learner in pretty much every aspect and he already knows the basics. His mom taught him when he was young how to make some baseline German dishes, and this man can WHIP that shit up.
- Once you two are to the point in your relationship where you can cuddle, he is ALL OVER YOU. Especially when itâs raining/ thundering out and you two can lay in bed together. Since he overheats easily due to his CIPA, in the colder seasons youâll have to leave the window open so he can stay cool.
- After seeing how his dad treated his mom, he has a pretty good grasp on how to treat a partner. At times he can fly off the handle, especially with his bipolar disorder, but afterwards he breaks down and apologizes. If at any point you even SEEM like you donât like him anymore he gets defensive, it makes him very standoffish or snappy.
- Wonât shut up about you after you start dating. Not in a rambling way, but he finds a way to bring you up in every conversation. He doesnât meant to, but how could he go without telling someone youâd like the flower he just walked by?
â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘
âŠNSFWâŠ
- VIRRRRGINNNNNNNN.
- I mean VIRGIN virgin, like this guy has had NO activity. No first kiss either. All the knowledge he has is from porn, so heâs completely clueless. If youâre both inexperienced youâll just have to persevere.
- Heâs the kind of person to get turned on looking at a picture of you fully clothed, heâs just so in love with you.
- Before you two start dating heâs 100% taking candid pictures of you or finding your instagram posts and jacking off to them.
- Massive bottom. He puts out a front for a WHILE before youâll be able to realize heâs not a top, he doesnât want to look like a sissy. If you suggest being on top heâs BLOWN AWAY. Acts like heâs just doing whatever you want, but afterwards you definitely realize heâs been waiting for it.
- Sensitive as hell. Heâs a loud one, but again he doesnât want to look weak or not masculine enough. He tries to hold his moans and whimpers back and grunt instead, but if you do it just right heâs a whimpering, whining, PANTING, mess. Kiss his neck? Heâs rock hard. Even if youâre just giving him a hickey heâs whimpering and bucking his hips into you.
- Tits man 100%. Doesnât matter what size, the fact that theyâre there is enough. When youâre on top of him he prefers for you to face him so he can watch them bounce. When heâs on top heâs usually in missionary so he can still see them.
- Hair pulling kink, specifically his. He canât feel the pain, but the yank drives him CRAZY.
- Big on oral. Giving or receiving, he doesnât care. If heâs giving he prefers for you to sit on his face, but heâd never admit that.
- His favorite place to do it is tight spaces. Closets, cars, narrow alleyways. Especially if it adds to the thrill of getting caught.
- STAMINA. He cums crazy fast, but heâs definitely able to make up for it with how many rounds he can go. Even if he came a few minutes ago, itâs already up and ready to go again.
- Likes to have music playing in the back while you do it. He probably already made a playlist the second you started dating, but if you ever want to choose the music he doesnât mind.
- At first heâs self conscious about his abilities, but after some time and seeing how good you feel heâs a cocky motherfucker. Slyly grinning and looking at you all worn out after a few rounds boosts his ego to the moon.
- Dim lighting all the way. He wants to be able to see you, but he feels too exposed when itâs too bright.
- Not completely opposed to a threesome, it depends on who it is. Heâs more protective than possessive, so if he trusts the person enough heâd be okay with it. If it had to be anyone in the mansion it would probably be Cody or Liu, but heâd make sure youâre okay with it.
- Rabid horny teenager.
â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘*â˘
#creepypasta#headcanon#hcs#headcanons#slender mansion#slenderverse#ticci toby#hoodie marble hornets#masky marble hornets#slender proxy#ticci toby hc#ticci toby headcanons#ticci toby x reader#toby rogers#toby rogers x reader#ticci toby smut#jeff the killer x reader#jeff the killer headcanons#jeffery woods#jeff the killer#kate the chaser headcanons#natalie creepypasta#ej creepypasta#creepypasta jtk#clockwork creepypasta#masky creepypasta#creepypasta au#clockwork#slenderman#helen otis
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[GI] Kinktober Day 10: "Exhibitionism"
Summary: After your stunt with Tartaglia, you are forced to deal with the repercussions of Capitano's not-so-well-hidden jealousy.
Warning(s): Reader is fucked in front of an audience, Dub-Con, Degradation, (Probably a whole slew of other warnings that I canât think of rn).
Side Note(s): Okay soâI switched it up last minute to exhibitionism because I realized that I get confused easily between that and voyeurism (+ I have more of a love for exhibitionism anyway).
Also, this is kinda an unofficial pt. 2 to the "Sharing" fic I posted? I mostly kept to the same "storyline"(?) because it was easier on the brain for me.
Your relationship with Capitano has been in a...weird spot, to the least, ever since that day between yourself, Tartaglia, and Capitano.
At the end of it all, the men didn't even get what they had originally wanted. You were far too fucked-dumb to even decipher who was who, much less come up with enough letters capable of yelling out a name. But, for the sake of being tired himself, Tartaglia had admitted "defeat" and carried on his merry way! Eventually, he left Capitano's war band and continued on his own personal mission, leaving you behind and working for Capitano permanently like you were originally supposed to.
But it's been awkward.
Capitano was curt with you, only speaking to you when he needed to. If you were caught taking a moment to relax, you began to pray that Capitano wouldn't happen upon you, he'd only immediately order you to get back to work!
No longer did he greet you warmly and no longer did he seem to care about your well-being. When the entire war party moved, he no longer expected you to be by his side, nor did he constantly check to see if you were! You could've been at the very back of the party and he wouldn't have given a single damn.
You had a mind to call your boss out on his behavior, pull him aside, and ask what the issue was and...whether or not there was still something between you both.
Although, you already had a mind to think that any feelings that may have started to blossom had long since been crushed underneath heel and foot.
Until today that is, when you were in your tent and finishing up some reports.
. . .
You quickly rose to your feet when Capitano suddenly entered your tent, bowing your head as you murmured a respectful 'Lord Capitano' in greeting.
He responded with a gruff noise of acknowledgment. "There will be a feast held tonight," Capitano said.
Your brow cocked, a feast? You hadn't heard anything relating to a feast at all. "Our efforts and missions have been going smoothly, I figured it's overdue to reward everyone in this camp. Even you." You bit the inside of your cheek at the cold way he addressed you. Had you known that accepting Tartaglia's offerâthat rogue ginger-headed charmerâwould lead to such an awkward tension between you and Capitano, you would've never allowed Tartaglia to trick you!
"...That's...that's kind of you." You said before sighing.
He nodded his head before turning to leave, prompting you to quickly stop him. "M-My Lord," You started off. "About that day...are you stillâ"
"I'll be taking my leave,"
"Lord Capitano!" You said more firmly this time, walking around your desk and beginning to close the distance between the two of you. "You can't continue to avoid me, n-not to mention treat me as Iâ" You stopped in your tracks when the first harbinger turned his head to look at you. And although you couldn't see his eyes, nor his expression behind that dark mask...the danger that oozed off of him. It made you audibly gulp as you took a few steps back.
You bowed your head in silent apology. "...You will come to my tent before the feast officially begins." Then, he walked out. A cold bead of sweat dripped down your neck at the vague order. Either it would be nothing aside from more work, Capitano deciding to kill you, or...hopefully, he'd finally get over his attitude and talk to you.
You couldn't stand how things were at the moment.
So, when the time finally arrived and the feast was ten minutes away from the beginning. You found yourself in Capitano's tent, your hands resting neatly in front of you as you stood at the entrance of his lavish tent. "My Lord, the feast will begin soon." You gently reminded him. "Shall I alert the soldiers of anything before it begins?" You continued.
You didn't receive a response until Capitano emerged from the covered part of his tent, adorned in the usual attire he wore when he appeared during important Fatui functions or battles. "No," He answered. "Simply follow me." Your brow rose as he walked past you, but nonetheless, you dutifully followed after him outside and back into the steadily warming air thanks to the bonfire that had just been set up.
As the soldiers began to gather, however, Capitano clearing his throat before he broke out into an, admittedly, very admirable speech as he thanked and showed gratitude towards his soldiers. Certain things started to stand out to you as your eyes washed over the crowd. Such as...the doctors and nurses of the camp weren't present, surely they deserved some praise and appreciation too? Too many times have soldiers or even your boss himself had come into the camp injured from head to toe! They'd quickly patch them up and almost seem to perform magic, you've heard soldiers state that one doctor in particular was good at numbing the pain!
There were none of the cooks, blacksmiths or even the younger soldiers that were fresh into the party, tasked to simply stand aside and watch.
All this boiled down to this "feast" being composed of nothing more than the more experienced soldiers, simply leaving you with a number ranging around the hundreds.
As pieces started to merge together although...a heavy hand placed itself on your shoulder, and then, you tuned back into the conversation. "...You will all bear witness as to my secretary learning who she truly belongs to, hopefully with an audience, she will learn not to be so easy for others."
What had just happened?
. . .
"Apologize." Capitano gruffly ordered you as the loud sound of your squelching cunt echoed through the camp. Not even the whistling winds could muffle your desperate panting as Capitano fingered your soaked cunt, taking special care to not knick you with his claws. "Apologize for being such a desperate whore..." He hissed out, loud enough for everyone to hear. "...for being so easy to fuck, not even having the courtesy to quiet yourself down despite being in a camp full of my soldiers."
Your cheeks burned with shame as you could feel hundreds of eyes on you. You didn't know whether you wanted the soldiers to be disgusted at the sight and turn away or if...you preferred this in a sick way, although there were some women amongst the crowd, the heavy sound of panting amongst the men made you clench around nothing, your slick beginning to drip and run down from your cunt and onto Capitano's lap.
Something that the ever-vigilant Captain didn't miss.
"You shameless whore." He snarled in your ear, your body shuddering at the feeling of his sharp teeth grazing the skin on your ear. "You're getting even wetter at being watched?" The harbinger nearly had a mind to laugh at how your legs twitched, as if you wanted to curl into yourself at his cruel words. He almost allowed himself to feel bad, until he smelled how your arousal grew at his words.
Oh...so you liked this.
Well...that explained everything.
Slowly, he took his fingers away from your cunt, a string of arousal still connecting him to you as he brought them up to his face. "So that's why you fucked my fellow harbinger." He sneered, opening and closing his index and middle finger, playing with your slick.
"H-Huh?" You moaned, both in disappointment and confusion. Despite the cold, your body burned with desire, one that grew more potent by the passing second as you felt Capitano's obvious hard-on behind you. You were grateful for your tears blurring your vision, for as Capitano continued to let you sit in his lap exposed to his soldiers, you at least could fool yourself into thinking that no one was paying attention.
But only for so long.
A scream tore from you as the Captain's fingers returned to your sex, his fingers dipping into your pussy before they had quickly found your g-spot whilst his other hand wrapped around your torso to begin flicking rapidly at your clit. All the air in your lungs were nearly knocked out of you at the rate of how quickly you were approaching your climax, your hands fruitlessly clawing at Capitano's forearms as drool started to dribble from the side of your mouth, your eyes starting to roll into the back of your skull.
"C-Captain..." You moaned. "O-Oh Archons...!" You keened.
He didn't relent. "Take it," He ordered as if he were ordering a soldier. "Considering you've taken me and Tartaglia at the same time...you should be used to the pleasure." He chuckled gruffly.
He tightened his hold on you as you squirmed. "Slut," He spat. "Quit squirming."
It was only when Capitano suddenly bit down on your shoulder were you pushed off the edge, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as your body stilled and your vision turned completely white. For a long while, you drifted on that cloud of sheer bliss...until you were brought back down by the feeling of something hard slapping against your cunt, snapping you back to reality before you were face to face with the harbinger's cock.
Starting off at a lighter color at the base before turning into a dark purple towards the middle and upwards at the tip. You shuddered when you remembered that Capitano's cock was inside of you...not even a whole two weeks prior! The ridges along his dick were intimidating, especially with the way it twitched and oozed pre-cum.
You gasped when he parted your cunt wider with his fingers. "If you won't apologize with your mouth..." He started off before he lifted you a little, as easily as he would carry a sack of flour before the tip of his cock pressed against your opening. "...Maybe you'll be more apologetic with your pussy."
. . .
Capitano didn't waste any time to wrap a hand around your mouth, although, the sheer size of his hand nearly engulfed your entire face. As he pressed you impossibly closer to him, he made sure to get really close to your ear as he spoke to you. "Make sure to look my soldiers in the eye as you apologize to me with this cunt of yours." He said before he slowly pushed himself into you.
Immediately, you broke his command, your eyes threatening to roll into the back of your head. Something that Capitano quickly corrected with his free hand slapping the side of your thigh. "Look at them." He reminded you. As more of his dick sunk into you, your eyes blurry and struggling to focus as you looked at the soldiers before you. You accidentally made eye contact with one of them, all before...your eyes glimpsed at his noticeably hard cock.
In fact, you noticed how all of them were hard.
Your cunt clenched tighter around your boss' dick at that realization. "Fuckâ" He whispered. "You must've noticed, hm? How they all yearn to fuck you? My secretary." He continued.
When your pussy twitched at his words, he lightly pinched your side in punishment. "Greedy pussy...still eager to take more cock despite having me inside of you?" A muffled yelp resounded against the harbinger's hand when the rest of the Captain's dick was suddenly pushed into you. More moans followed suit as his fat tip began to poke and prod at your sweet spot, deep inside of you. "Don't worry, I'll curb your greediness soon." He whispered, the sheer possessiveness in his deep voice making goosebumps pop up all over your skin and down your spine.
More than you cared to realize, you loved when your boss was possessive over you. And that love only grew more when he started to move, his balls slapping against your skin as he took up a brutal pace almost immediately. You tried your best to keep your moans quiet when he suddenly released his grip over your mouth for it to take up stationing itself on your waist, aiding in pulling you down faster and harder against his pelvis. But it was so fucking hard to be quiet when he was fucking you like he was afraid of loosing you. As if you'd be gone the second this was all done.
"C-Captain..." You groaned. "F-Feels so good...!" You continued to cry out, blissful tears running down your face as you lost yourself in the feeling of his cock. Delicious sparks ran up and down your spine at the feeling of the ridges alongside his cock rubbing against your walls, your arms coming to loop themselves around the back of the Captain's neck as his groans started to become more and more audible.
His cock was touching all the right spots inside of you, making you see stars behind your eyes. "Fuckâ" He snarled. "Archons...your cunt is squeezing me so tightly." He groaned, his head coming to bury itself in the crook of your head before he whispered more words you were too cock-drunk to decipher. You whined when he sped up the pace of his thrusts against you, your cock-drunk babbles turning from moaning to pleading for him to go easier on you, much to the harbinger's amusement. "Too much?" He mocked, faking sympathy as he fucked you harder in turn. "That's too bad. You wanted this, so you're going to fucking take it." He growled.
He was suffocating you in the best way possible as each time his cock slid into you, it practically punched the air from your lungs, the scent of sex in the air making it feel like it was hard to breathe. But you loved it. You assume that's why your second orgasm snuck upon you so suddenly, the presence of people watching your boss fuck you silly on his lap...the degrading words he whispered into your ear in combination to the pleasure. It was all making your mind spin. "You're fucking tightening up on me..." Capitano grit his teeth together, his claws beginning to dig into your skin.
"Gonna cum?" He asked before he kissed the side of your neck, lightly nipping it as he felt his orgasm begin to approach as well. "Cum all over my cock then." He cooed, the feeling of his twitching dick battering against your cervix making you let out a few more strangled moans before you froze again him with a loud cry.
"Fuck...fuckfuckfuckfuck." He groaned, fucking you through your orgasm for a few more thrusts until he stilled against your still twitching pussy with a loud hiss of his own. You moaned softly as you struggled to come down from being dicked down, a dopey grin plastering itself onto your face as you looked behind you with both a happy expression and a shy one.
The harbinger, although dazed and hidden behind his mask, smirked confidently, the way he moved to run his fingers through your hair shockingly gentle.
He doubted you would want to go and find someone else to fuck after tonight.
#smut#genshin impact smut#genshin impact#genshin smut#genshin fanfic#genshin fatui#genshin fandom#genshin impact fandom#genshin impact fanfics#genshin capitano#genshin impact capitano#genshin x reader#il capitano x reader#capitano#fatui harbingers#il capitano#genshin impact fatui#capitano smut#il capitano smut#genshin capitano smut
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Can I get a one punch man saitama genos and garou accidentally saving a female reader from a villains or monster attack and the reader becomes madly in love with them and like stars following them and clingy to their art etc
âSaitama, Genos & Garou x reader
âSummary: You think that the person who saved you needs all the love in the world even if it was an accident.
âWarnings: none
â In this world of heroes and villains you consider that you have a superpower, the superpower of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
â Somehow you find yourself involved in battles that do not concern you, being just another civilian who is rescued, it has happened to you several times, but you usually go unnoticed and flee from danger before someone decides to use you as a hostage.
â It didn't happen like that when Saitama saved you, although he didn't even see you, he destroyed that huge stone that was going to crush you when defeating a villain, your eyes could only look fascinated at the shine of his bald head and his bored expression.
â You thanked him in different languages and he just gave you a thumbs up without knowing how to respond when he didn't even notice you in the first place.
â He was certainly happy thinking that he had gotten a fan, but you went a little too far.
â You went crazy looking for information about your now favorite hero and love, you sighed every time you saw him knock down enemies with a single blow.
â Saitama met you more times a day than he did with Genos, and he lived with the cyborg.
â You always tried to start a conversation with him, no matter how brief, you love the simple interaction.
â Saitama will run away from you, seriously, he appreciates your letters and gifts but you are reaching an extreme, the man wants to lead a fairly peaceful life and you are a whirlwind of emotions.
â Genos got a taste of his own medicine when he prevented a pile of rubble from falling on you, he hadn't noticed that you were the only person there, he just diverted the pieces of building for a battle strategy.
â You didn't need anything else, once he realized that there were civilians, he apologized and helped you get to the nearest hospital to check if you had any injuries.
â You were creating imaginary scenarios with the cyborg throughout the medical checkup and immediately sought to have more interactions with him.
â It's difficult for Genos to reject some of your offers once you manage to establish some kind of friendly relationship, although he feels that you are being a little suffocating with your affection.
â Appreciate your enthusiasm and affection, but seriously, relax a little, his brain will short-circuit from the amount of love you show him.
â This boy has zero experience in romantic relationships so he is a little lost when it comes to reciprocating at first.
â You will take care of that as long as he ends up accepting you as a partner, since he is still confused by your sudden appearance in his life, especially when he has such clear life goals, he doesn't know if you could distract him from his occupations.
â He doesn't want to make you feel bad so he won't ignore your signs of affection like Saitama, ironically he has more heart than his bald friend.
â In general he is a good boy and he will accept your love bombing, but he also has clear goals for himself, and he lets you know if you really want to be part of his life.
â This idiot surely saw you and he was even the one who planned to use you as a hostage, but someone beat him to it and put a knife against your throat before he could do anything.
â Fuck everything, the cheap villain was his priority now and he forgot about you, no one would take away a target even if it was a hostage, speaking of capricious boysâŚ
â Of course the whim of fighting your captor indirectly saved you, although he didn't look at you when you fell to the ground or help you after he broke the other guy's face, but your heart experienced an instant crush.
â Garou had the feeling that someone was after him after that day, he thought that some rival was after him only to find... you with a love letter in your hands?
â You looked at each other in an uncomfortable silence and he decided to leave without saying anything, but your spirits did not falter, you tried by all possible means to spend as much time as possible with him to establish a relationship.
â The man simply got used to having you by his side, ranting about anything or receiving compliments for any little thing he did.
â He was so embarrassed, not only because the sight of him as a villain would be destroyed, but because he was not used to receiving so much praise and affection.
â You may have a rather negative reaction towards your love, he doesn't feel confident enough to start something and you also came out of nowhere, but now that he knows you a little more he won't kick you out of his life either, at least for nowâŚ
â Don't expect any signs of affection from him, he's a tough guy and has to look tough.
â He constantly reminds you that he's not a good person and what his goals are right now, but he gives up when he sees that the look in your eyes clouded by love, won't scare you away so easily, although he might like that.
#opm#one punch man#request#one punch man x reader#saitama x reader#sfw#genos x reader#garou x reader#hcs#hc did#opm hcs#reader insert#opm x reader
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âšËËâş our childhood is gone - steve harrington
masterlist | requests
pairing:Â steve harrington x platonic fem!reader
summary:Â reader and steve end tied up in the secret russian base, where the reader turns to anger and finally confronts steve after he threw out their friendship just for popularity.
warnings: none
notes:Â i love angst long live angst
word count: 864
⸝âąŕźşâŻ
When she first walked into her new job and saw Steve Harrington, she could not believe it. How could Steve, the most entitled and pretentious guy at Hawkins, end up with a crappy job at an ice cream parlor?
A bit hypocritical to say, seeing as though she had the same job.Â
They exchanged a polite âHelloâ that first day, but no words were spoken. There was no acknowledgement of their past, of their friendship they once cherished, ever since they were 9 years old. High school had completely turned Steve into a jerk, and she resented him for it. Him and his âfriendsâ would stare and laugh when sheâd walk by, just like they did with anyone they deemed âuncoolâ.
What hurt most, was making eye contact with him.
She never once saw an apologetic look from him. Not then, not now, not ever.
Scoops was a dead-end too, as she pretended not to know him, and he did the same.
How they ended up in an underground Russian base, tied to chairs sitting back-to-back with each other, was a question neither could answer. They sat in silence, waiting and fearing whoever was due to come in the room to question them.
âSoâŚâ Steve began, attempting to light up the dreary mood.
âSo what?â Y/N snapped. Not a single bone in her wanting to be kind to him.
âI just, you know⌠quite the situation weâre in here.â
âCut the shit, Harrington. Donât act like you want to make small talk with me right now.â
Steve sat quiet. They both did for a few minutes. Taking in the gravity of the situation they faced, and the uncomfortable silence that filled the room.
âYou know,â Y/N laughed, sarcasm lacing her words, âYou really are the same person you were back in high school. When I first saw you here⌠I cannot believe I really thought youâd changed. But of course, you didnât. Youâre still the same douchebag you used to be⌠pretending not to know me. Youâre an ass.â
Steve was at a loss for words, âOh, donât act like youâre a saint,â He snapped, âYou ignored me too. I guess youâre a douche too, then.â
âIt takes one to know one. I wasnât the one who went prancing around to the âcoolâ kids as soon as we entered high school just because I wanted to be âsomeoneâ.â
âAt least I was someone.â
âHarrington, I think youâll be happy to know, making fun of people doesnât make you âsomeoneâ. It just makes you an asshole.â She shot back.
âOh, for crying out loud,â He muttered under his breath.
âYou are fucking unbelievable.â
He rolled his eyes in response, âFor the love of God, Iâm sorry, okay?âÂ
âYou donât even know what to be sorry for, Harrington.â She hissed, âA half-assed apology wonât get you anywhere after the hell you made me go through these past 3 years. You know, when I first started high school, I foolishly thought âHow cool! I have my awesome, cool, friend, Steve Harrington in the grade above me! What could go wrong?ââ
Steve laughed, âYou did not say thatââ
âOf course not, asshole, I was being sarcastic.â She sighed, âI still did not think you and your fucking âfriendsâ would make it hell to walk through those halls. Never had a single day of peace. If you werenât making fun of the books I carried, it was the way I walked. Or the way I wore my hair. How does doing that to so many people not haunt you, Steve?â
He stared at the floor. His expression dropping with each word she spoke, hurt and sarcasm never leaving her voice.
âDo you not regret it, Harrington?â
They both reflected on the words exchanged, the minutes dragging out before they spoke again. Their minds raced and dwelled in the hurt and regret filling the air.
âI do. I never thought it was going to go that way. I never thoughtâŚâ He paused, âI never wanted to hurt anyone. But I sat with them on my first day. And suddenly I was part of it, I finally⌠belonged somewhere. I started playing basketball with them, and before I knew it, I was in too deep. I never planned to make fun of people in the halls, but when you stand there with them, careful not to laugh too loud and⌠they turn to you and wait for you to make a comment, you just do. â
âPlease,â She huffed, âYouâre not getting any pity from me with that fuck-ass story. You threw away years of friendship to make fun of people and shoot balls up at the ceiling? Fuck you.â
âIâm sorry.â Steve responded quietly. âYouâre right. I was a coward, an asshole, and a douche. Everything you said,â He sighed, âYou are correct about it all. I hurt a lot of people, and I do wish I could un-do that damage. I wish I hadnât thrown our friendship away either.â
âYou were my best friend,â She spoke, her voice breaking, âI wanted to believe in the 9 year old Steve I once met. But you made me feel invisible.â
#stranger things#reader insert#steve harrington#stranger things imagine#stranger things headcanons#scoops ahoy#steve harrington angst#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fanart#steve x eddie#angst#stranger things headers#stranger things x reader#imagines#one shot#stranger things fic#robin buckley#eddie munson#netflix#popular#x reader
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In order to fully understand why it was so hard for Mike to express how deeply he loves El, and why his speech at the end of season 4 was one of the biggest, most important moments for his entire character, we need to look at not just who Mike is as a person, but also everything that has happened since he met her.
Every single time he opens up his heart to her, something horrible happens to her or she's taken away from him almost immediately afterwards.
1x08; he's an awkward little ball of feelings that are way too big for a boy so young. He makes a nervous attempt at confessing and asking her out on a date; when he can't find words that she'll understand, swoops in for a kiss instead. She lights up immediately and smiles. It's a brief moment of hope and pure happiness. Maybe they can have some semblance of a normal life and be normal kids after this is all over.
Minutes later, all hell breaks loose-- they're almost shot, El pushes herself too far until she can barely move, she's almost taken away by the Bad Men, the Demogorgon appears, and she uses the very last of her strength to sacrifice herself to save him and their friends.
He has to watch helplessly as she disappears.
He spends a year caught between believing she's dead and hoping she's still out there somewhere (but if she is alive then why won't she talk to him anymore...?). Kept silent under threat by the lab, he can't confide in anyone or even acknowledge her existence, not with anyone except those involved... but everyone else is keen on moving on and pretending it never happened. He can find some solidarity in Will, at least, who is in a similar kind of emotional turmoil... but it's not the same and it's not enough.
2x9; he is finally reunited with El, and she runs into his arms like she missed him too. She tells him that all those nights he called out to her, she heard him; she was there reciprocating his feelings the whole time.
In a burst of emotions that he's been forced to suppress for an entire year, he lashes out at the reason they've been kept apart (Hopper), screaming and sobbing. It's a massive catharsis for him, and for once an adult is understanding enough to hold him and not punish him for it.
Minutes later, she is going to go headfirst into a pit of monsters, the place where Mike had just firsthand witnessed dozens of people (if not more) get ripped to shreds only hours earlier, and she is going to attempt to close the Gate-- a feat that he knows may take every ounce of her power, just like last time. He cries. He can't lose her again. She promises he won't, and before she can seal that promise with a kiss, they're pulled apart again.
He has to watch helplessly as she drives away.
3x1; all seems to be okay now. He and El are happily together, and he feels comfortable enough to be playful, romantic, and intimate with her. It's the most emotionally open we've ever seen Mike thus far.
For reasons he can't understand (bc there's no way Hopper explained himself beyond "I'm in charge so do as I say or else"), Hopper is angry about it and threatens to never allow him to see her again: the one thing he fears most.
He panics big time and fucks it up in the process by lying to her. During a frantic attempt to apologize while also abiding by Hopper's rules, he runs into her at the mall. He panics again-- if anyone finds her here, and knows that he was here too, it's all over, and Hopper surely won't hear reason. El dumps him cold on the spot, spurred on by Max and her rebellious attitude (and without any context of course). He isn't given much opportunity to respond. He knows he's in the wrong for lying to her, so what could he even say...?
He has to watch helplessly as she drives away.
It's a hard blow, and he retreats back into himself, unable to get any joy out of playing D&D (which he clearly hasn't lost interest in), back to the deadpan sarcasm and accidentally snapping a little too harshly at anyone whom he feels would take El's place.
3x6; no one seems to understand the danger El is putting herself in. Everyone is berating him for worrying about her safety. He's seen firsthand what these monsters do to people, he's seen firsthand how El pushes her abilities too far. No one is listening.
The words "I love her and I can't lose her again" burst out in his desperation, perhaps before he's even had a chance to realize how deep those feelings run, despite whatever protective walls he's tried to build around his heart to keep it from getting broken again.
Soon after, all hell breaks loose. El is nearly killed several times over, her leg is ripped open, she pushes herself so hard that she breaks herself and loses her powers completely. Her father is taken from her. She's shattered by all of this, and there's absolutely nothing he could do or say to make it better.
She tells him that when he admitted he loves her, she heard him, and indeed she loves him, too... But now she's leaving.
He has to watch helplessly as she drives away.
4x1; they've been apart for a few months, and write letters back and forth to each other. El's letters paint a picture of an ideal new life: she and the Byers family are doing well; she's starting school and it's going well; she's made new friends, she likes her new home, everything is going well. She seems to be thriving. She sounds happy, maybe even happier than she had been living in Hawkins. Maybe Max was right, maybe she's better off being her own person without him, and maybe the respectful thing to do is step back... It's a small insecurity that creeps up subconsciously. In his replies he holds back, afraid of clinging too hard.
Though there's little logic in it, he's afraid that if he tells her he loves her again, another disaster might strike and this lovely happy life she's finally found might get taken from her. After all, that's what always seems to happen when he does.
4x2; after months of waiting, they can finally see each other again. He wears her favorite colors, picks a handful of flowers for her, and falls happily back into step with how they used to be. Soon that same day, however, reality becomes clear and the facade crumbles. People he was told were her friends show up to torment and publicly humiliate her. She had been lying. She isn't happy here, she hasn't healed, she is right at the edge of a breaking point that he doesn't see coming at all. He can't believe she would lie to him, she's not the kind of person to lie... especially not about something like bullying, something that she was always so understanding about with him.
On that logicless subconscious level, he wonders if it's all his fault-- he should have known somehow, he should have been there for her. She protected him from his bullies, he should have protected her from hers. He tries to come to her rescue. She runs away from him.
He's helpless to save her, again.
4x3; after a night to process everything that happened-- and deciding that the betrayal he feels from her lying to him is nothing compared to the turmoil she must be going through right now-- Mike approaches her in the gentlest way possible, wanting to listen and trying to understand. El, however, isn't receptive at all to his attempts at reassurance. She is at an all-time low, she's given up. She believes she is unlovable, irredeemable, a monster, just a thing that doesn't even have those superhuman abilities to compensate anymore. Mike can't believe what he's hearing-- doesn't she know that she's always been so much more than her powers? She's always been so much more than what she lacks in quote-unquote "normalcy"... None of those things matter, they have absolutely no bearing on whether she's worthy of being loved, because he loves her, completely regardless of any of these things. He always has...
El starts flinging his restrained words back at him, the products of his insecurity and trauma-induced fear. That fear takes hold yet again, and he stumbles, afraid of saying too much or not enough, because surely both could result in pushing her away-- she's retreating, hearing none of it; nothing he tries to say consoles her.
Moments later, local police come knocking. She's taken away in cuffs, and she's so broken inside that she won't even look at him when he chases the police car down the street and promises he'll get her out somehow...
Once again, he has to watch helplessly as she drives away.
4x8/4x9; after days of driving through the heat and dryness of southwest desert, having narrowly escaped being shot at with military-grade assault rifles, witnessing the death of and burying a man whose last words were that El is in danger... After watching dozens of people get mowed down by a sniper in a helicopter, and watching that same helicopter be smashed into the ground in a ball of flames...
There she is. Just as powerful and beautiful and alive as she's ever been. When he runs to her and embraces her, she looks at him like she can't believe he's real. She's beaming a smile right from her soul and it's like all the insecurity and self-doubt that have plagued them both just vanish from existence now that they're in each other's arms again.
Like always, however, the universe comes crashing down soon after. Max is marked for a gruesome death and all of Hawkins is in danger. They're miles away and helpless, and the only possible way for El to save everyone is if she goes in alone. She's stronger than ever, but so is her foe. Once again, she descends to face all the demons of hell on her own, and Mike can't do anything.
She's losing. She's choking. She's dying. He's helpless.
He must be cursed. He must be. Being with her, loving her, allowing himself to admit he loves her, it always brings only pain and suffering and loss. His heart is so full that it's aching, it's bursting out of his chest, and he can't contain it any longer.
She's going to die and it's going to be all his fault, because he fell in love, and it's cursed her.
Just before it all crumbles into utter despair, the earnest support from his oldest and dearest friend-- one who's always shared and understood his feelings of helplessness-- sparks a light of hope in him: "You're the Heart." You're not helpless. You can save her.
The words that come spilling out of Mike's mouth are truer than any he's ever dared to speak before, and it's the most terrified he's ever been, but he has enough courage for this moment. Despite all of the fears that have been building, stifling, choking him to death for years-- fears that the light of his life will inevitably disappear again, and there's nothing he can do to stop it-- despite it all, he pours out his heart to her.
He loves her. He's always loved her. He loves everything she ever was, is, and could be. He can't imagine a world without her in it. She saved him, in every way a person can be saved. And he needs her to live. He believes in her.
And it works. It's music to her ears.
#stranger things#mileven#mike x el#mike wheeler#mine#mileven fuels my soul#'you can only have 30 photos at a time in one post' alright fuck you tumblr#had to collage the first set to fit everything in lol#but ohhh godddd i am so emotional about this dude#he doesnt struggle to say it because he has doubts. its not about whether or not he has feelings for her.#it is 100000% his own personal struggle with himself and his traumas#grabbing screenshots for that last scene though. GOD i was in tears AGAIN#SOMEBODY give Finn every goddamn award under the sun for that performance#the way his VOICE BREAKS!! he sounds so SCARED and VULNERABLE but also so COMPLETELY EARNEST#'i don't know how to live without you' in particular#i will never get over this ever in my whole life tbh#it was so beautiful#also i need there to be more discussion about the parallels between mike's and hopper's internal struggles#because it is almost exactly the same.#the black hole analogy... 'they didnt need me. i needed them. i'm not cursed I am the curse'#like... biggest of ouches#okie dokie ive spat my bars and dropped the mic now its time for B E D#edit days later: i very much regret not brightening the images. goddamn its dark af here
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I collaborated with the amazing @laxi0v0 for a cute little event we made in the scriddler server. This is Laxi's art about the fic I wrote, and HONESTLY HONESTLY i couldn't have asked for a better and more supportive partner. Her art is way better than I would ever dream on writing and honestly, Laxi, I'm so glad it was you bc we vibe a lot about our tastes w this ship.
The fic will be on ao3 later, but here, for you guys, before anyone else:
Jonathan takes a sip out his mug, nicely decorated with a pumpkin, the recipe of the pumpkin spice coffee perfected by him for decades. Itâs warm, it tastes like fall, and itâs the start of what Jonathan considers to be the best time of the year.
It started like a small tradition for him, when he finally left home and started studying to become the psychologist he wanted to be. Halloween was to be celebrated, especially for freaks like him, abhorrent creatures that made great-grannyâs skin crawl. He was proud of that, in a way. It was his moment, it still is, after all of these years, because he is still a freak, he belongs to this weather and these colors more than he belongs anywhere else. He belongs between ocher leaves and the smell of fog, the rain starting to fall over Gotham, only to leave when itâs summer again. The start of his kingdom, of the time he rules over.
Or it would be, if Edward wasnât so adamant about going to freaking Starbucks.
He doesnât get it, not really. A malnourished child from Georgia, surrounded by overworked kids that serve them with the most forced smile when Edward asks, yet again, for the infamous Pumpkin Spice Latte. With ice. Oatmeal milk. Whipped cream.
Jonathan wants to die.
âHow is this even supposed to be spooky?â
Edward rolls his eyes, green contact lenses barely moving, as if they were starting to get glued to his irises. Which should be a bad sign, but Jonathan is, yet again, not his boyfriendâs keeper.
âNot everything has to be spooky when this time arrives, Jonathan.â
He kind of dislikes it, when he calls him by his full name. He calls him Jon when they are alone, when they are intimate, when their bodies or their hearts are entwined. He doesnât like when he calls him Jonathan, because that means that Edward thinks he is being too bitter, complaining too much, a complete prick.
Itâs not that he dislikes the stupid PSL, either, but it feels like desecrating one of his oldest traditions, and he feels as if he were betraying himself.
âDonât you like my recipe, then? Do you dislike it so much we have to come here every single week?â
The cashier smiles at them awkwardly as Edward pays for their order, tipping the young lady generously.
âDo you have to take everything personally? I started getting here when I finally had my own money to spend. Is it that hard to just enjoy it, when I want to share it with you?â
Oh. A tradition. Jonathan distractedly drinks from his thematic glass, but says nothing.
They are really different, Edward and himself. To Edward, spending time and money like this⌠is almost a love language. Itâs a lifestyle that he works hard to keep, having dinner in expensive places, getting coffee every time he can. Sharing it with him, because Jonathan is important to him.
Jonathan may be unable to feel fear, and his brain may be as damaged as Edwardâs heart, but guilt still crawls its way into his psyche. It still makes him feel uneasy, because he cares, because he understands the feeling, because he wants to share his recipe with Edward because of the exact same reason.
He touches Edwardâs hand when they sit, an apology he doesnât utter but that can be felt in his irradiated orange eyes.
âI like it when you share time and nourishment with me.â
Edwardâs expression softens, a glint of blue under the bright green contact lenses.
âWow, when did you get emotionally aware?â his mouth says instead, and for a moment, Jonathan understands the Bat and his compulsion to punch him in the mouth.
âIâm a psychologist, Edward.â
â... right,â he mutters, his voice cheeky, still clearly a little mad, his thoughts loud. Jonathan loves that about him, his expression when he is deep in thought, when he is trying to understand something. A puzzle, a new riddle in their lives. âThat recipe of yours is really important to you, too, if Iâm guessing correctly.â
Jonathan nods, his eyes still on Edwardâs, who seems to be feeling a little bit too shy to look at him, knowing that they are having an emotionally vulnerable moment.
âIt is. I made it myself and⌠I want to share it with you.â
Edward does smile a little at that, his voice softer when he speaks.
âLet me try it later. I want to give it the thought and recognition it deserves.â
Jonathanâs thumb caresses Edwardâs hand, his smile contagious. Like a well concocted virus.
âI would love to.â
â-------------------------------------------
Edward is pretty sure that he is (very unluckily, by the way) dating the man with the poorest taste in the world. Jonathan seems to think that he is hilarious, dressed in his usual costume, even the needles oozing toxin as he sits quietly on the couch.
There is a thing about him that Edward has always loved: how he becomes a different person when the mask is on.
They used to talk about it, back in the day, when they used to share a room in the Asylum. Jonathan felt naked without his mask, his expression dull and almost tense, devoid of what made him himself. Edward, at least, has managed to make those expressions change, the real Jon emerging from behind whatever aloof façade he tries to put on to protect himself, to pretend he is a regular human being and not the freak that makes his heart melt.
He must surely be smiling behind the mask, then. Edward can almost feel him vibrating in excitement, like a small child, and in a way, he kind of is. A reclaimed childhood, the enjoyment of a joy he wasnât allowed to feel. He can understand that.
Still, the poorest fucking choice of a Halloween costume.
âReally, Jon? The most original idea, I have to say.â
Jonathan looks at him, and he can feel his piercing eyes even behind the mask, the expression of a predator, so dangerous it makes his face flush a little. Birds of a feather, both of them. The Scarecrow sighs, deeply, the sound distorted behind the mask. Itâs creepy, he has to admit, which is probably⌠kind of the point.
âLike youâre one to talk, Herlock Sholmes.â
Edward gasps, indignant. His Poirot costume is nothing to be laughed at.
âExcuse me?!â
He can almost feel the smile behind the mask, because Edward knows him, he knows Jonathan is an avid reader, he knows the difference between Agatha Christie and Arthur Conan Doyle, for fuck's sake. He is doing this on purpose, to rile him up. He always is.
Edward's mind goes somewhere else, somewhere private. Somewhere where he is indeed riled up, and Jonathan touches his cheek, looking up at his face from behind the mask, Edward sitting on his lap, while long, dangerous hands go up his thigh, eyes hungry-
The doorbell rings. Edward goes back to reality, Jonathan's eyes on him as he moves towards the entrance, the tips of his ears surely blushing.
When he opens the door, he has to look down, because damn, kids sure look tinier these days. He cannot remember to be this short, this innocent, thisâŚ
Happy.
He feels Jonathan's chin on his shoulder, almost jumping in place because the man is silent like a ghost, no matter how eager he is to take part in the holiday.
One of the kids is wearing a Batman costume, and Edward tries his hardest not to roll his eyes, with better or worse success. Another kid is dressed as Harley Quinn, what makes him wonder if these parents are in need of any kind of psychological help. The youngest, a child dressed as Wonder Woman, looks at them with badly hidden mischief, and Edward feels tempted to just close the door.
"Trick or treat!" They ask in unison, and before Edward can answer, Jonathan drops a bag in front of them, full of who knows what, but the kids don't ask.
Such blissful ignorance.
"Thank you Mister Holmes! Mister Scarecrow!" The girl dressed up as Batman says, and the one dressed as Wonder Woman purses her lips in disgust.
"Poirot's moustache isn't like that. You're a fake."
The kid dressed as Harley Quinn laughs in response, taking the bag of candy and running away with Wonder Woman. The one dressed as Batman follows who Edward believes to be her sisters, and he blissfully thanks that they don't have any children.
"Please tell me the bag is full of drugs."
Jonathan chuckles a little, his arms around Edward's waist.
"Hershey's," is everything he says, his sudden lack of malice and evil intent a headache for Edward.
"Oh, Jon. Are you going soft on me?"
Jonathan's smile can be felt in the air, a predator, a killer awaiting their next victim.
"Me? Oh, darlin'..." he whispers against Edward's ear, his distorted voice making him shudder in anticipation. "Never."
#scriddler#my stuff#and laxi's#dc#riddler#scarecrow#edward nygma#edward nigma#edward nashton#jonathan crane#i love you laxi.... really
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For the drabble request, I can never get enough shixiong!SY bingqiu. But only if you're up to it :)
ok it turns out i'm fundamentally unable to write a drabble as short as theyre meant to be, so here's over 4k words of shixiong!sy for your perusal 𤥠(+ a decent helping of cranky peak lord sqq and his wayward head disciple sy)
---
Shen Yuan⌠has possibly let himself become a bit too relaxed, since he first transmigrated. He used to spend every day on high alert: every cute little kid might be the protagonist, every mistake he made might have been logged somewhere for a petty revenge side plot later. He wouldnât dare miss anything plot relevant, not when it might cause his doom. After all, âShen Yuanâ wasnât even a named character within PIDW - he was well and truly canon fodder!
But then, ah⌠Then Shen Yuan was accepted as a disciple on Qing Jing, and then he was a personal disciple of the notorious Shen Qingqiu, and then -Â
Well, not even Shen Yuan can keep up that sort of hyper vigilance all the time, okay!! Heâs the scum villainâs head disciple - basically a henchman! If he lived in fear for every moment he might be condemned, heâd never have a second to rest!
It isnât Shen Yuanâs fault that the best way to relax in this world is to go on years-long expeditions off peak!Â
âŚIt might, maybe, be just a tiny bit my fault, Shen Yuan thinks, staring at Luo Binghe with horror. How does he manage to take such a long vacation that he misses the protagonistâs arrival onto Qing Jing? What kind of fake fan is he, ah?!
Luo Binghe has not introduced himself as such, but there is no way he can be anyone but Luo Binghe. His hair falls into perfect curls around a face so cute and round Shen Yuan wants to squish his cheeks until they turn pink, and heâs wearing an expression so determined and focused that it puts Shen Yuan to shame as the head disciple.
And heâs chopping wood. Thatâs the most recognizable part, obviously.Â
Shen Yuan forces himself to step forward into the small glade he found Luo Binghe in, clearing his throat awkwardly. Luo Binghe whips around, and Shen Yuan nearly cringes at the nervous apprehension on the boyâs face.
âAh, I didnât mean to startle youâŚâ Shen Yuan trails off. Luo Binghe stares at him and says nothing. Shen Yuanâs perfectly nice and friendly smile starts to slip. âI donât think Iâve seen you around beforeâŚ?â
âApologies to Shixiong, this one will be sure to cut wood further away from the main peak buildings, so Shixiong doesnât have to see me again.â
âWha - wait, wait, thatâs not what I meant!â Shen Yuan cries, becoming increasingly concerned about just how long heâs been away from Qing Jing.Â
For Luo Binghe to already be this wary of any Shixiong who looks his way⌠ah, Shen Yuan has basically already failed every single one of his loose plans to keep Luo Binghe from blackening! He wasnât even there to witness Luo Bingheâs initial perfect white sheep days, let alone keep him out of the warpath of bullies and bitter Shizuns!
âThis Shixiong is Shen Yuan,â he says, taking a few slow steps closer to Luo Binghe. Somehow, he gets the feeling that he has to be ready to catch Luo Binghe by the scruff if he tries to run off or start a fight while Shen Yuan is just trying to introduce himself, ah!
âThis one is Luo Binghe,â Luo Binghe replies, dipping into a perfunctory bow.
âYes!â Shen Yuan says. âI mean - well, itâs a good name.â
Luo Bingheâs expression only grows more wary.Â
âAnd ah, how long has Luo Binghe been on the peak?â Shen Yuan asks, even though the look Luo Binghe is giving him makes him want to slink back off into the bamboo forest. He has to know - if heâs lucky, itâll only have been a year or two, and Shen Yuan can -
âThis one has been a disciple of Qing Jing for over three years, now,â Luo Binghe says.
âHm!â Shen Yuan says, because what he really wants to do is yell but he canât do that with this customer service smile plastered on his face.Â
Inwardly, he allows himself to monologue out a list of swears that wouldâve gotten his old online accounts temporarily locked. Over three years is too long!! The blackening has already started!! Luo Binghe has already started damaging his meridians by following that cursed fake manual, has already started training under Meng Mo, and most importantly has already given up hope of being accepted here and started farming resentment instead!
Shen Yuan is fucked!! What sort of half-assed blackening prevention plan starts this late!?
âAh, so Luo-shidi must already be 15, or nearly there,â Shen Yuan says aloud, laughing nervously. âAre you, um, sure?â
Please, please tell this pitiful Shixiong of yours that you just misspoke!!
Luo Binghe looks at him like heâs an idiot. Shen Yuan can feel nervous sweat beading along his forehead.
âItâs just - well, Luo-shidi is quite small, for being 15,â Shen Yuan says, and then nearly bites his tongue in an attempt to correct himself. Who is he to call the protagonist âsmall,â ah!! âNot quite small! Only a bit! Only - uh, only slightly smaller than Iâd expect! Itâs only that Iâm already 19, and Luo-shidi is much - I mean only a little! - shorter than I am, so -â
Shen Yuan makes himself shut up. Youâre making a fool of yourself in front of the protagonist, you idiot!
âThis one will be sure to train more to get bigger,â Luo Binghe says, though it sounds a bit like heâs talking through gritted teeth.
âNo, no, youâre training plenty!â Shen Yuan rushes to say. âUh, that is - admittedly, Iâve been off peak for some time now, but when I was Luo-shidiâs age, things like chopping wood were a group chore, so if youâre managing it all by yourself, surely youâre⌠big and strongâŚâ
Shen Yuan shuts up again. Luo Binghe stares at him some more, but thereâs something in his expression that seems more considering that it had been just a moment ago.
After a long stretch of awkward silence, he seems to come to some sort of resolution, and takes a hesitant step towards Shen Yuan.
âForgive this oneâs ignorance,â he says, slow and careful. âThe other Shixiong said it was a chore best done alone to build strength. Is that wrong?â
âVery wrong,â Shen Yuan says, nearly beside himself with relief.Â
Good, very good! Luo Binghe hasnât lost all hope for his time on Qing Jing Peak just yet, after all! Given the chance, heâll still try to carefully raise the issue of his bullying to a responsible Shixiong to take care of!
Shen Yuan can so be a responsible Shixiong that takes care of reports of bullying for Luo Binghe!!
âOh,â Luo Binghe says, edging even closer to Shen Yuan. âThen what does Shen-shixiong think I should do?â
âLuo-shidi doesnât have to do anything about this,â Shen Yuan says firmly. âThis Shixiong will take care of finding out whoâs meant to be sharing this chore with you and make them do the rest of it.â
âThere might be multiple people,â Luo Binghe offers, still speaking with a caution that makes it quite clear how likely he thinks it is that Shen Yuanâs assistance will vanish as soon as Luo Binghe complains too much.Â
âBecause Luo-shidi has been made to do this chore alone for many days, now?â Shen Yuan asks.Â
Still looking a bit wary, Luo Binghe nods. Shen Yuan sighs, having expected that answer, and takes the final steps needed to get within armâs reach of Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe watches him closely, his hands curling tighter around the ax heâd been using to chop the wood.Â
Moving slowly so as not to spook him, Shen Yuan raises one hand to place gently on Luo Bingheâs head. He really is too short for 15, but Shen Yuan knows all the details of âwhyâ - having to work too hard with not enough rest, having meals withheld from him or being served with spoilt ingredients - any kid would be a bit small, when under those conditions.
Luo Binghe had gone stiff under Shen Yuanâs touch, and Shen Yuan takes a moment to pet the top of his head for a moment before saying anything else, hoping to get Luo Binghe to relax again.Â
Ah, I really did mean to try and keep you safe, Shen Yuan thinks to himself, feeling regretful. Heâd come to Cang Qiong with the intention of finding Luo Binghe early, after all, and had worked as hard as he had in order to be ready for Luo Binghe when he came.
But then he had worked too hard, and Shen Qingqiu had promoted him to head disciple, and suddenly Shen Yuan thought he might go insane if he wasnât able to get off Qing Jing Peak and stay off for as long as he could possibly get away with, and -Â
How stupid of him. Luo Binghe must have been taken in during the disciple selection the very same year that Shen Yuan had taken off on his extended field trip. How very, very stupid of Shen Yuan, to think that things wouldnât go upside down the second he looked away - this is Luo Bingheâs story, after all, and itâs always been a bit of a tragedy.
âThen this Shixiong can only apologize to you,â Shen Yuan says softly, with perhaps just a bit too much sincerity. âAnd in the future, if youâre given this sort of work again, Iâll chop wood in your place.â
Under his hand, Luo Binghe peers up at Shen Yuan with wide, hungry eyes. Shen Yuan gives him a final pat before withdrawing his hand, and plasters his friendly smile back on his face.Â
âNow, why donât you get cleaned up, hm? Iâll meet you again later - this Shixiong of yours still needs to report back to Shizun that Iâve returned from my trip.â
Luo Binghe nods, still watching Shen Yuan with an intensity that would feel more at home on an emperor than a scrawny 15 year old, and Shen Yuan beats a hasty retreat.
Despite all the pretty promises he made to Luo Binghe, heâs going to have to think of something clever to actually be able to fulfill them.
After all, not even all of his meta knowledge combined would be able to save Shen Yuan from his Shizun.
---
Shen Yuan has been pacing outside Shen Qingqiuâs bamboo house for ten minutes now. Nothing he can think of is good enough to convince someone as petty and stubborn as Shen Qingqiu.Â
Once, at the start of his time on Qing Jing Peak, Shen Yuan had tied his disciple robes wrong, unused to wearing anything quite so complex. Shen Qingqiu had sneered at his mistake in the moment, and then for every major event in the next five years straight heâd made a point to comment snidely on how well Shen Yuan has managed to dress himself.
Thatâs the sort of mean streak this man has!! If he doesnât like something, heâll keep harping on that one thing for years, even after that thing isnât around to bother him anymore! How is Shen Yuan supposed to coax Luo Binghe out of the jaws of a man like that?
Ah, forget it, forget it! Shen Yuan would just - heâd come back another day! Greeting Shen Qingqiu wasnât really necessary, Shen Yuan could just -
âI was under the impression that Shen Yuan was a head disciple returning from field work, not a child trying to avoid bedtime.â
Shen Yuan whips around, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end like a spooked cat. There, kneeling elegantly on his front porch not ten meters from Shen Yuan, is Shen Qingqiu.
âShizun!â Shen Yuan cries, trying to force his grimace into a nice, polite smile. âWhen did - I mean - this disciple means -â
Shen Qingqiu closes his fan with a harsh snap, and Shen Yuan shuts his mouth so fast he almost bites his tongue.
âWell?â Shen Qingqiu asks dryly, and Shen Yuan hurriedly drops into a bow.Â
âThis disciple greets Shizun!â Shen Yuan shouts, his ears burning with embarrassment.Â
Shen Qingqiu hums, and Shen Yuan risks peeking out from his bow to look at him.Â
He does not look especially pleased.
With all the elegance of a wild cat, Shen Qingqiu unfolds himself from his kneeling position on the porch and glides over to Shen Yuan.Â
âToo low,â he says, slapping at Shen Yuanâs wrists with his fan. âOr was Shen Yuan hoping there would be a replacement head disciple waiting for him by the time he came back from his trip?â
âAhahaha,â Shen Yuan wheezes, carefully correcting himself into a bow of a slightly higher ranked disciple than the one heâd originally slipped into. âOf course this disciple is honored by the position and very very grateful for Shizunâs benevolence in leaving it to him even during his absenceâŚâ
âWhat advice does Shen Yuan think his Shizun has for him?â Shen Qingqiu asks sharply, and Shen Yuan winces.
ââTalk less,â Shizun,â he recites dutifully. It is advice that Shen Qingqiu has given him many, many times.
Shen Qingqiu sniffs haughtily and walks a slow circle around Shen Yuan, inspecting him. Shen Yuan tries not to sweat too profusely. He really had been hoping that Shen Qingqiu may have forgotten about Shen Yuan in his years away, ah!
Finally, Shen Qingqiu completes his inspection, stopping once more in front of Shen Yuan.Â
âWhat sort of pathetic creature has Shen Yuan carved the bones of to make his hairpiece?â He asks, using his fan to prod at Shen Yuanâs hairpin.
âA Hundred Year Crystal Tortoise, Shizun,â Shen Yuan answers.
âAnd the leather of your belt?â
âA Golden-Footed Acidic Bear, Shizun.â
âAnd did you even bother to remove the -â
â- the needle hairs beneath the Bearâs skin before treating the pelt,â Shen Yuan interrupts. âYes, Shizun.â
Shen Qingqiu scoffs. âHow bold youâve gotten, interrupting your Shizun.â
â...Sorry, Shizun,â Shen Yuan mumbles, deflating a bit.
âStill,â Shen Qingqiu sighs, and Shen Yuan peeks back up at him again. âYou did decent enough, I suppose.â
Shen Yuan perks up, half-standing up out of his bow. âThanking Shizun -!â
Shen Qingqiu whacks him over the head with his fan. âIf Shen Yuanâs trip had been only a single year, instead of nearly four!â
Shen Yuan very quickly gets back into the proper deferential position.Â
âFleeing so quickly after being promoted, only to stay away for this long - I hope Shen Yuan is comfortable sleeping on the ground, because Iâve long since given up keeping the side room in my house for an absent head disciple. I filled it with cursed artifacts and dusty books two years ago.â
âShizun -!â Shen Yuan protests, starting to stand up again. Heâd liked that little room, damn it! It was the one decent part of being promoted to head disciple in the first place, even if it meant sharing a roof with this asshole!!
Shen Qingqiu whacks him again, and Shen Yuan obediently shuts up.
âFoolish boy,â he scolds, before promptly turning on his heel to stalk back to the bamboo house. âHurry up, then,â he calls behind him, âI want to see if you still make tea as dreadfully as you did before.â
Shen Yuan makes a face at Shen Qingqiuâs back. Without looking behind him, Shen Qingqiu uses his qi to send a single leaf flying to Shen Yuanâs head, slapping him on the forehead right over where Shen Yuanâs brows had bunched together.
Shen Yuan smooths his face out into a perfectly polite smile once more. This asshole, he curses inwardly, he really is scum!! The lowest of the low!! A bully!!!
âTea, Shen Yuan,â Shen Qingqiu calls once more, and Shen Yuan hurries to catch up.
---
Later, after Shen Yuan has dutifully given a retelling of his adventures over the last few years, and after Shen Qingqiu has grilled him on every mistake he made and how stupid that was of him and how shitty his tea still tastes, Shen Yuan finally manages to bring up Luo Binghe.
âThis disciple met someone new this morning,â he says, pouring Shen Qingqiu more of his apparently awful tea.Â
âWas Shen Yuan sure they were new? Perhaps itâs been so many years your brain has started to forget the faces of the idiots here in favor of whatever foolish beasts youâve been studying.â
âSomeone new,â Shen Yuan confirms, pretending to ignore Shen Qingqiuâs very pointed glare. âHe was a disciple even younger than Ning-shimei, and you only picked her out the year before I left.â
âAh,â Shen Qingqiu says, and all of a sudden Shen Yuan thinks that perhaps his Shizun has never been truly irritated with him in the past, because this expression is far more acidic than anything Shen Yuan has seen before.
âA-ahâŚ?â Shen Yuan says, stupidly.
Shen Jiu sets his cup down with a harsh clink. âShen Yuan should ignore that little beast. He wonât bring you any good news.â
âShizun, this disciple likes beasts best,â Shen Yuan says. âIs he so bad?â
âIgnore him,â Shen Qingqiu repeats frostily.Â
Shen Yuan swallows. This⌠thereâs no way that heâll be able to convince Shen Qingqiu to give Luo Binghe an honest shot in this one conversation. He canât bet on being able to eventually wear him down, though, either - even if he does eventually convince him, if it takes a year to do it, thatâs also not any good. Shen Yuan needs to be able to help Luo Binghe now.
Okay. This is fine. Shen Yuan has - he has so many very good ideas, all of them very well thought out and full of strategic benefits. He can use any one of these very good and smart ideas.
âI understand, Shizun,â Shen Yuan says, âThat beast wonât be a shidi of mine, then.â
âGood, now -â
âBut what about as a pet?â
Shen Qingqiu stares at him. Shen Yuan stares back.
âA pet,â Shen Qingqiu repeats.Â
âA pet,â Shen Yuan agrees. âShizun, I already said that I like beasts best - if I canât raise Luo Binghe to be my shidi, canât I raise him as my pet instead?â
âDonât be foolish,â Shen Qingqiu snaps. âBeasts arenât for keeping.â
âSometimes they are - Cang Qiong has a whole peak dedicated to such a thing,â Shen Yuan points out. Shen Qingqiuâs scowl grows more fierce.Â
âQing Jing is above such dirty work,â he spits.
Shen Yuan swallows again, his hands clenched tightly in his lap. Heâs already started down this path; he may as well place all his bets on making it through.
âThen perhaps Qing Jing is not for this disciple after all,â Shen Yuan says, trying to keep his voice steady. It still comes out a bit reedy, but at the very least, his voice doesnât crack over the words.Â
Shen Qingqiuâs eye twitches. âSpeak plainly - Shen Yuan has already spent several years neglecting his duties. How much farther do you intend to stray?â
âShizun so graciously held the position of head disciple open for this one,â Shen Yuan hedges. âOn that topic, isnât it possible for head disciples to choose to spend a decade or so on a different peak of their choice, to encourage diversity in education and cross-peak relationships before the head disciple becomes beholden to their peak as a lord? Perhaps I could take in a pet on a different peak, with such a method.â
âThatâs a custom reserved for older disciples,â Shen Qingqiu spits, âintended to benefit them in the years directly leading up to their ascension as a peak lord, not when the head disciple is just a little whelp with a century ahead of them before they can wear a lordâs crown.â
âNo such rule is written anywhere, Shizun.â
âThen Iâll write it,â Shen Qingqiu hisses. âShen Yuan, youâve had your fun these past years - now you are to stay on this peak.â
âThen I want a pet,â Shen Yuan says, tilting his head up defiantly. âItâll benefit Shizun, too: you wonât have to feed or clothe him anymore, nor train him to be a cultivator.â
Not that you were doing any of those things for Luo Binghe before, ah!! Shen Yuan thinks, trying to focus on that feeling of indignation. If he just thinks about that - about the horror of coming across Luo Binghe in that clearing earlier, too scrawny to be 15 and yet wary enough of the world he may as well have been an adult - then Shen Yuan can hold his ground.Â
If he just thinks about Luo Binghe as a neglected kid, and he just thinks of Shen Qingqiu as that childâs abuser -
If he just thinks about that, then Shen Yuan can meet the eyes of the man who has taught him and promoted him and housed him in the side room of his house, and he can demand this one thing.
âWith what funds would Shen Yuan be able to feed and clothe his pet?â Shen Qingqiu asks sharply. âWith what free time would he train him not to bite?â
âThis one is the head disciple of Qing Jing Peak,â Shen Yuan says. âIf a head disciple couldnât manage that much, they certainly couldnât deserve to ascend as a peak lord in the future.â
Shen Qingqiu falls silent, unfurling his fan and raising it high up his face until only his eyes peered out the top of it, watching Shen Yuan. Shen Yuanâs hands twist in his lap, but he keeps his gaze steady.
âA head disciple does not run away from the position,â Shen Qingqiu says.Â
âNor does a master run off from their pet,â Shen Yuan agrees.
Thereâs another moment of quiet as they both watch each other. When Shen Qingqiu speaks again, his voice is firm, like someone reciting basic peak rules and not the terms of the most batshit insane agreement Shen Yuan has ever brokered.
âYou will stay on Qing Jing,â Shen Qingqiu says, âand you will accept the head discipleship position without fuss.â
âYes, Shizun.â
âNo more trips. No more pretending to forget to introduce yourself as my head disciple. No more pushing your pathetic disciple brothers at me with paperwork that you clearly filled out in some sort of foolish scheme to have me consider them over you.â
Shen Yuan winces. âYes, Shizun.â
âYou will not receive any additional allowance, for any reason, outside of the funds normally provided to a head disciple. Any pests you pick up will not sleep in my house, nor will you be allowed to request room in the dormitories for any such creature. Those resources are for disciples, not beasts.â
Shen Yuan hesitates. Luo Binghe canât sleep in the rundown woodshed forever, and he wants to protest the idea that the dorms are for disciples, as if Luo Binghe was ever allowed in there in the first place.
Shen Qingqiu taps one finger on the table. âAnswer, Shen Yuan.â
âThis disciple agrees under one condition,â Shen Yuan says. âUsing his personal funds, this disciple would like to request permission to make moderate renovations to a peak structure in order to improve the quality of kept wood.â
Shen Qingqiu scoffs. âDisciple Shen Yuanâs personal funds will be drained by feeding an animal - you will not be able to afford the standards that Qing Jing exacts for renovation projects.â
âThis disciple has been collecting favors from An Ding. They will be repaid, and this disciple will be able to afford the project.â
âShen Yuan had best not be caught collecting any such favors forcibly,â Shen Qingqiu warns, which is very distinctly a âdonât get caught blackmailing peopleâ warning and not a blanket âdonât blackmail peopleâ one.
âOf course,â Shen Yuan agrees. âThis one is the personal disciple of Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu - how could I get caught in such a way?â
Read: youâve made sure I understand how to not get caught when doing something shady, at the very least!!
Shen Qingqiu waves his fan once, twice - heâs irritated, but doesnât necessarily disagree.
âFine,â he says at last. âPermission for a renovation to that ugly woodshed is granted. And Shen Yuanâs answer to all other stipulations?â
âThis disciple agrees.â
Shen Qingqiu slaps his fan closed in one palm. âThen Shen Yuan is allowed a pet. I wonât interfere further.â
Shen Yuan nods. He expected as much; Shen Qingqiu wonât egg on any further bullying, nor will he stop Shen Yuan from taking any measures he pleases when it comes to Luo Binghe, but he wonât help Shen Yuan dissuade the current bullying.
Thatâs fine - already, this is enough to help Luo Binghe.
âThanking Shizun,â Shen Yuan says, bowing his head slightly. âThis disciple will not disappoint.â
After all, how hard could raising the protagonist be? This world revolves around Luo Binghe; all Shen Yuan needs to do is make Luo Bingheâs everyday life a bit less miserable, give him just one person he can trust. Luo Binghe will manage the rest himself, by nature of being who he is - what he is.Â
Yes, this - this is the best way.
---
Outside the bamboo house, crouched beneath a window so still his muscles ache and his head feels woozy from how shallow heâs kept his breathing, Luo Binghe listens to his Shizun and Shixiong move on to discuss cleaning out the side room now that Shen Yuan has returned to the peak.
A pet, he thinks, his eyes blown wide, his fingers digging deep into the ground beneath his knees. He can feel dirt caking the underside of his fingernails, and the scars he leaves in the ground are very much like an animal, indeed.
A pet, he thinks again, over and over on loop in his mind, his pretty Shixiongâs voice fading to background noise. He thinks of Shen Yuan gently patting his head like one might coax a dog, and he thinks -
Yes, a pet.
#please forgive any grammar/flow issues w this if i tried to edit it i would have come to you w a 6k oneshot instead of a 4k one LMFAO#i'll probs clean it up and post it on ao3 after rent a bingge is done! for now tho enjoy uwu#svsss#bingqiu#scum villain's self saving system#fic drabble
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Great and Spacious
I
When I came out at work, I simply changed my pronouns in my email signature and on zoom. Immediately a co-worker reached out and asked if I changed my pronouns, and I said yes and she was excited for me.
Within two days others noticed too and the reaction was professional and compassionate--I felt seen, supported, and safe. My people manager and I met and we discussed the systems in place and the resources available, she didn't really understand what being trans or non-binary really was, but she knew what policies of inclusion had been put in place by corporate and in our local office to support me. She was open with me and always supportive--even after she left for other opportunities, we still stay in contact.
It was not perfect. Bathrooms were tricky, due to the lack of single occupancy options. Some if my co-workers still mis-gendered me. But I've had people apologize when they get it wrong and do better. And knowing I have the support of so many that I work with helps me navigate the small group of less agreeable co-workers (and to be clear, I've never had anyone aggressively disrespect me).
But the real proof in the pudding is how non-performative the support is. I am not the "token office trans", I am part of the team, fully integrated. My opinions and questions are considered and appreciated. People have told me they enjoy collaborating with me. In many ways, despite transitioning in plain sight, I have never felt that it was a source of burden or concern in my workplace.
II
When I came out at church, I wrote a letter. It was detailed and gruesome. It highlighted my disphoria, my anguish, my pain. I had seen the stories of other trans people crushed by the wheel of leadership roulette and knew I had to be clear and deliberate in my language. The letter was hard to write and hard to read, so I am told. I needed to focus the reader on my pain in attempt to appeal to their sympathy.
I sent the letter to my Bishop; I was Ward Clerk at the time. He was kind. He genuinely took my letter and read and thought and prayed. He prayed for two weeks, and I prepared for the worst. Obviously, the temple recommend would be gone, with it the calling. Hopefully, there wouldn't be too much blowback on my family.
Finally we met, and we spoke for hours. His position was that he didn't feel like this should matter--in his mind being non-binary was fine and I was still worthy of a temple recommend. He said he had read the handbook so many times (which at the time was pretty sparse on how to work with non-binary people, arguably it still is) and felt like he wasn't sure what to do. Due to his upbringing as a non-member he felt like he has known many queer people who were good and deserving of love and he wished the Church were different. He is one of the good ones, but even still, I was at his discretion and thankfully he was benevolent.
My Stake President needed a month with my letter. He has never known a trans person before me and admitted to being at a loss. He, too, prayed and read the handbook and also felt the same confusion my Bishop had expressed. We had only one meeting, where he said that my femme presentation was not in alignment with holding the priesthood and would not sign off on my recommend. He was kind, but firm and I was frank in return. I asked him to draw the boundaries and lines--could I speak in classes? Could I pray, if asked? What callings could I hold? Could I give talks? Bare my testimony? Wear garments? Take the sacrament?
I could tell he was uncomfortable with my questions, but I needed to know so that I could be safe. I let him decide, and he was generous, I could do all those things, just not hold a temple recommend and my calling.
My Bishop was upset at the news. We would meet more times and he would express his frustration at the outcome. I was released from my calling, which felt like a public shaming, and I wasn't ever asked to pray, or speak, or teach. My new calling was to prepare the weekly bulletin--and I did, and I made sure that all my quotes were from female leaders (a fact that no one ever noticed).
I was thanked profusely for showing up and staying. People were kind but uncertain and it showed. Some were kind in ways that felt unnatural and disingenuous. My Bishop often told me of the complaints he got for not being harsher with me. A couple told him they would no longer attend while I was permitted to come and take the Sacrament. Another man told him the I suck the spirit out of the room just by being there.
There were some who were angry for me and how things had unfolded. There were a mix of people with a mix of reactions. They had no guidance or support in how to integrate me into their community. I was at their mercy. I didn't feel empowered to participate, I felt like a problem needing to be dealt with.
III
I share these two experiences to highlight a disparity. My workplace experience has been smooth and a delight. Policies were in place to give direction and support to those who needed it and I was still treated as a respected member of my team. When I asked my team leaders if they wanted me to not interface with clients, they said if that ever was a problem to talk to them and they would handle it.
My experience at church was the opposite. It was grueling, exhausting, and soul crushing. I watched people struggle to know what to do with me. It was messy and frustrating.
In one of our many conversations, my Bishop mentioned that he has clients that he works with that use they/them pronouns and he tries to be inclusive. It made me realise that many of the people at church likely come from workplaces similar to mine that have policies, guidance and systems in place for trans clients and co-workers, so they know how to behave in the work place. But at church, it was everyone for themselves, and it was disappointing.
At church, a lot is said about the world, the great and spacious building, Babylon. We are told to fear it and to believe that the world is mocking us and trying to do harm. But I have seen a world that behaves with compassion, empathy, and love--one that I didn't have to fight for acceptance or give my agency and pain away to a man across the desk from me.
The great and spacious building has come up with a lot of the philosophies our Church has rejected and now is trying to catch up to. But it pains me when people say that the members and leaders don't know any better--because they need only look up and outward to find places of inclusion to model themselves after. My workplace did it, likely without God's inspiration, so why, with God does it take us so long?
There are places of refuge out here in the world--community is what you cultivate. Our leaders and members are not innocent lambs ignorant of what is around them--but there is a cultivated ignorance that permits them to wallow in the mire of their biases. I was there once too. It is comforting to never have to open your eyes or confront your ignorance--but the world can help us do it.
Perhaps the great and spacious building isn't the pejorative we make it out to be. Perhaps it is truly great and decidedly spacious enough to incorporate all of God's children. Perhaps not. I only have my experience--but I have seen both the world and the church in action, and I can say with confidence, which more readily offered me fruit to sustain life.
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[4:28AM] "i still love you, y/n. it was dumb of me to let you go.", ex! jeno pleaded as he stood on your doorstep at an ungodly hour in the night, "everything i see reminds me of you. i've tried to move on but i can't help myself comparing everyone with you. i miss you even when i'm in a room full of people to distract me.", jeno rambled, his rosy cheeks hinting that he was probably a little tipsy.
today would've been your fifth-year anniversary if you stayed together.
"i thought of you every single day for almost a whole year after we broke up.", you said, looking at him.
"me-"
"let me finish.", you interrupted him, holding your index up, "i tried so hard not to, but it felt like the more i was trying to not think of you, the more i did. you were the first and last person i talked to every single day. some mornings, when i was still in a sleepy haze, i found myself looking at my phone to see if you had texted me and when reality hit me, it was another kind of pain. you were part of my everyday, you became a habit. it's hard getting rid of habits. i had to get used to say that i didn't have a boyfriend when asked about relationships, and i couldn't use 'my boyfriend and i already planned something' when i wanted to get out of things. i was wondering if i was the only one that had to hold myself back from sending you a text. i was wondering if you too, struggled with not having me in your life anymore."
"i did. i do. so much, y/n. you don't know how much i want to go back to slap some sense into myself and not break up with you. i was so overwhelmed with graduation, work and keeping up with family and friends that i thought i needed to get rid of something."
"so you got rid of me..."
"and i regret it so fucking much. the minute i saw the tears in your eyes i regretted it. i thought it was for the better, i was so busy i couldn't even be a proper boyfriend to you, and you deserved better than that. i thought letting you go was the best for the both of us."
"the best? i cried every single night for three months straight. not only because i missed you, but because as you said i deserved better. i knew that... i knew it but i also knew that if you showed up like this at my door back then i would've taken you back in a heartbeat. and it made me hate myself, because i loved you more than i loved myself."
"i'm so sorry, y/n. i really am-"
"babe! where are you?", you heard bf!renjun screaming from your room, with his sleepy and worried voice.
"i'll be right back, junnie.", you answered with a little smile on your face, imagining your boyfriend with his eyes closed and a pout on his face as his arm was lying on your empty side of the bed. you turned back to face jeno, whose face seemed like he saw a ghost, "jeno, i appreciate the apology... but you're a little too late. i've stopped waiting for you a long time ago.", you gave him a small apologetic smile.
jeno looked at you and realized how much he fucked up. you've rightfully moved on and he was the only one being stuck in something he created. when you replied to your boyfriend, that was when he noticed the smile on your face, the same smile that used to be directed to him, and that was the only time he saw you express happiness since he appeared on your doorstep.
"fuck, you're really here.", a familiar voice said right after you heard the elevator doors open.
"i really wished i was wrong.", another familiar voice said.
you turned your head and saw two people, you thought you wouldn't see again, walking towards your apartment.
"time to go home, samoyed."
"haechan. jaemin.", you greeted your ex's bestfriends.
"sorry for the disruption.", ex's bestfriend!haechan told you before grabbing jeno's arm and putting it around his shoulders, helping his friend walk away from your apartment and your life.
"how have you been ?", your old childhood bestfriend!jaemin said, letting jeno and haechan walk away first.
"great...you?"
"same."
the feeling of awkwardness and nostalgia could be sensed in the air. you looked at each other a few more seconds as all the memories of your friendship, from when you met in kindergarten to when he stayed by jeno's side when you two broke up, flashed through your eyes.
"baaaabeee!!", your boyfriend whined from far away, "come baaaack!"
"well, it's late. we're going to let you go back to your night. sorry about that.", jaemin nodded towards your ex, "and everything else...", hinting at his own mistakes.
you nodded, acknowledging his apology, "bye, jaem.", you gave him one last smile. it had been a while since he heard his nickname coming out of your mouth.
"bye, y/n.", jaemin returned your smile.
you watched him walk away with his two other friends, knowing that your byes stood as an official farewell to your friendship and his presence in your life.
masterlist
#nct dream scenarios#nct dream imagines#nct dream fluff#nct dream angst#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct angst#lee jeno scenarios#lee jeno imagines#lee jeno timestamps#lee jeno fluff#lee jeno angst#jeno scenarios#jeno imagines#jeno timestamps#jeno fluff#jeno angst
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We live in a culture where we are told we can go find better and do better- thus isolating ourselves and repeating this cycle over and over after small disagreements and ego-driven battles. Only to find ourselves becoming a capsule of emotions, memories and soul ties left with nothing but a false hope. Yes, there are instances where you SHOULD remove yourself and disconnect from people and things that are truly detrimental to your life and well being. But every single time someone fails or doesnât meet such high standards, weâd rather let go instead of giving grace. We would rather remove what could have been instead of thinking of our own triggered responses and actions. We end up selfishly choosing ourselves instead and left with only ourselves. Traumatized by what is called love but we never truly find it. Taught by instagram memes and twitter posts and led by their manifestations. Guided by the followers of God and not Himself. Walking around the earth with a pride so high that couldnât be reached but expecting for people to climb our walls. Love used to last back then because people knew what it was to TRY. We hallmark this ââ90âsââ r&b era because deep down inside we all want to find a love that stays, a love that never quits, that is vulnerable and faithful. Itâs not about the boy groups ââbegging and pleadingââ for their women. Itâs not about the r&b divas expressing their hearts outs and uplifting their men. Itâs not even about a nostalgic feeling. Itâs about the fact that that we all had examples and situations that made us BELIEVE that the kinda love we deserve is WORTH IT. Worth crying for, worth chasing, worth staying, worth giving and trying. We are now blind to that type of love. We all have our guns in our pockets and weapons ready to aim at any kind of instance that doesnât deem to be perfect. We have traded healthy love for toxicity and eventually made toxicity a normal thing- so normal we are TERRIFIED to try. Scared to stay. Horrified to look so crazy, so dumb, to be open, to cry, to do, to feel that weâre slowly becoming numb to the idea of it. Some praise singleness as a form of healthiness to the point of normalcy. And not saying that being single is not normal, but itâs the projection we forget about. Peopleâs projections have become our new will and we all then cycle it back and pass It along. Causing all of us to eventually feel like we can do so much better, be so much better, when in reality we donât even realize that the real work is working on ourselves. Nothing changes if nobody changes. We point the finger at each other when the target should be our own lives. If only you and that person could call it truths and instead instantly erasing the memories and history youâve built off a disagreement, yâall can find a solution- first by removing the ego and letting vulnerability take its place. However, in this generation, that almost seems like a scam. We have power words we use for people who make simple mistakes- calling their choices a disease and spreading awareness to what could have easily been an apology. We would rather categorize people by names then to understand their reasons. We would rather perceive someone for what we choose to believe instead of allowing that person to find solace in us. Because in this generation- love is merely a concept. It is just a partnership until the contract is broken and when it breaks, we can go find another partner than can fulfill our selfish needs. It is prideful, it is not kind, it envies, dishonors others, self seeking, easily angered, never trusts, delights in seeing evil after departure and eventually fails. EVERYTHING opposite of what the Bible describes to BE LOVE. So do not think it rare that we have an enemy who is seeking to remove this altogether. To keep us soaked up in this concept until we no loner have a fighting chance. To keep us ââcutting each other offââ and ââblockingââ each other altogether because we feel like there is SO MUCH better when in reality the better needs to be YOU. You are the change that the world needs.
If everyone looked at themselves before trying to find this love in everyone else- we will all be facing ourseves and getting hit with the fact that when you finally turn around- you will THEN truly see each other. We will then finally see LOVE for what it is.
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obvious - neuvillette
ship: neuvillette x reader synopsis: he can't understand how you always see through him. is he that easy to read? notes: 3k words
Neuvillette didnât know when he realized it. You mustâve been visiting him for at least a year at that point. Perhaps it was because it was such a small thing, something that most people wouldnât even raise a brow at. Or maybe it was because he wasnât in tune with it like most humans were that it took something rather large for it to stand out. Whatever it was, the moment he noticed it, he couldnât stop noticing every single time after.Â
He still remembered the day like it was yesterday. Though he often enjoyed the rain, the weather that time around had more of a somber note. It was the day after he apologized to Miss Navia, genuinely apologized to her. All evening it felt as if his stomach was thrown about like the waves of the sea, and when daybreak finally came, he wasnât much better. He wanted nothing more than to sit out on his balcony in the rain, but duty called and it was to Palais Mermonia he went.
Despite the storm raging outside, work went as normal. New cases were placed on his desk and visits from the Melusines were received. You arrived on time just as you regularly did in the late morning on the third day of the work week. You greeted him before entering and in your hands was a package marked with that familiar Komaniya Express logo. He remembered finding it impressive how there seemed to be no proof of the storm from the dryness of your skin.
He greeted you as he normally did, to which you returned according to custom. But even he could see the nearly imperceptible confusion within your eyes when you took the sight of him in. It made him self-conscious, as if perhaps his clothing were askew. Surely someone wouldâve pointed it out before if it were that noticeable. But when concern was reflected in your eyes after, he wasnât sure what to think.Â
âHere you go, Monsieur Neuvillette. This particular batch of bottled water is from Mondstadtâs Springvale. Itâs from, well, a spring where itâs rumored that a fairy lives. Included is the first volume of the book series, Heart of Clear Springs, which recounts the tale of the fairy and the promise she made with a young boy. Now I donât know too much about Fontanian opera, but I think this one makes for an interesting story!â
âIs that so?â He asked. âThen I will have to read it for myself.â
You nodded as you first handed him the package, then a clipboard for signature.
âYes, and tell me what you think. If youâd like me to procure the rest of the series for you, please put an order in with the Komaniya Express.â
âI will be sure to do that,â he agreed as he handed back the clipboard back to you. âDo you perhaps have some time today?â
It became a normal question of his after you curiously asked one time if he could tell the difference between the water you brought him. After that, it became a custom to sample different bottles with him whenever you had the time. It was enjoyable for him to share his hobby with someone else, even if your taste wasnât as discerning as his.Â
But when you turned him down with an apologetic smile, he couldnât help but notice the slight twinge in his chest. Apparently, it was a busy time for the company, so you had a heavy load that day. But even though you were in a hurry, you paused at the door to his office before leaving, that look he noticed earlier back in your eyes.Â
âI donât know what happened, but try not to be too hard on yourself, Monsieur Neuvillette. Itâs foolish to expect perfection, even from long-lived species like us. So cheer up, okay?âÂ
And with a kind smile, you then bid him adieu.Â
After you left, confusion sat within him. He had been told more than once that he was a difficult person to read, but you picked up on his mood the moment you entered his office. At first, he thought it could have been because of the Steambird. The case of the previous day stole its front page. But that couldnât have been it. You told him once you only read the paper in the evening due to starting the work day so early. So what cued you in?
But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that you had always been like that, pointing out his moods. How quick you were to take one look at him and deem the day as a âgood one.â Or those times after difficult conversations with Furina youâd kindly reassured him that a relaxing rainy day would come soon. A few times you even brought water from rarer places as a âpick-me-upâ from the week before.Â
Was he that obvious?
It made him wonder how long you had been picking up on his moods. He assumed you were only attempting to make conversation, but remembering back, you were right all those times. The days that you mentioned were good, he found himself able to sleep easily. And on the days youâd try to reassure him, there the rain would come early, but not the enjoyable kind.Â
You didnât change following that key visit. In fact, he noticed even more things about you. The days you were able to stay for a while, you did not treat him as if he were a celebrity. You could talk about recent events with ease. Youâd ask him questions about recent cases and shows at the Opera Epiclese. Youâd even tease him about his interest in the waters of Teyvat. With you, he felt normal, like he was any other person.Â
Perhaps you stood out the most to him that day a few days after Lady Furina renounced her deityhood and left the Palais Mermonia. She left so quietly it was as if it was never her home for the past 500 years. Words could not describe the emptiness her void left him. All the thoughts of that day swirled within his mind like an unending vortex. Guilt, confusion, pain, regretânothing could free him from the storm that was his mind.Â
The day you arrived wasnât one of your normal. It was the weekend nearing the time he ended for the day. And you had nothing in your hands, not a box nor glass bottle. One look of your face told him you already knew what happened. It didnât surprise him. It was the headlines of the Steambird for the past few days, after all. You also werenât a stranger to the more stressful times of the previous few weeks, doing your best to distract him with lighthearted chatter whenever you came by for delivery.
This time, you didnât smile, nor did you point out his mood. You didnât distract him with strange happenings on your journeys, nor bring up the news. Instead, with solemn eyes, you apologized for surprising him with such a sudden visit. You said you heard about everything that happened and you⌠were worried about him. Then you asked something no one else had since, well, everything.
âHow are you?â
There were many ways he couldâve answered that question. He could mention the emptiness he felt when passing that vacant apartment at the top of Palais Mermonia every evening. He could chat about how it bothered him how the Melusines seemed to move on too quickly from Lady Furinaâs absence. He could even talk about the guilt he still felt regarding that no doubt traumatizing trial he forcibly put her through. But he said none of those things. Instead, he answered truthfully.
âI donât know.â
And that was the truth, wasnât it? By all means, he should have been feeling relief. The people of Fontaine were not dissolved in water, nor was Lady Furina left weeping upon her throne alone. He received the power that was rightfully his and became a true dragon once more. It was the perfect outcome, was it not? But that was anything but he felt.Â
âIf you want, you can tell me about it,â you said. At his hesitation, you continued, âSometimes talking about things with someone else can help you untangle everything youâre feeling inside.â
Were you right? He wasnât sure. There werenât many people he found himself opening up to. Such was rather hard as the Iudex. His words were as solid as law. It didnât help either that he was put on a pedestal by Melusines and humans alike. They could never imagine someone like him could be privy to human emotions like themselves. But you werenât a Fontanian, were you? And never did you treat him like a god. You saw him as he was, a person. ButâŚ
âYou donât need to if you donât want to,â you followed up. âI do understand that not everything can be said.â
But he shook his head.
âThere are so many things to be said that words are failing me.â He let out a shuddering sigh. âIâm afraid nothing can rightfully describe what I feel about the events that have occurred.â
You nodded.
âI can see that,â you replied, seeing truth within his eyes.Â
And with that, silence unfolded between you both. Though Neuvillette couldnât quite pin it as uncomfortable, he couldnât help but feel a bit of guilt because of it. Here you were on possibly your day off and he couldnât bring it within himself to be a good host. But lost in thoughts as he was, it caught him off guard when you continued.
âI may be sticking my nose where it doesnât belong, but I can see in your eyes that horrible wrongs have occurred. And you feel guilty over it.â
He looked away as you managed to hit a bit too on the nose. But your words werenât sympathetic nor accusatory, simply pointing out the truth.Â
âIf I may, Monsieur Neuvillette, Iâm sure you know this, but justice is not meant to be a preventative measure. Justice can only exist when a wrong has occurred because it is the job of justice to make things right.â
You then put your hand upon his.
âYou may not be able to change the past, but you are the Iudex, the representation of justice in Fontaine. If anyone can make things right, wouldnât that be you?â
The part that blamed himself wished to argue with you. That it wasnât as simple as you made it out to be. That try as he may, there was still a chance he mightâ
âYou wonât fail. Everyone knows the kind of person you are. Even if you may make a mistake or say the wrong thing, they will see the truth and intent behind your words and actions. Believe in yourself more, Monsieur Neuvillette. You are a good person. If you just try, they will understand you.â
Was that the truth? He didnât quite know himself. There were so many things he wished to say to Lady Furina, but how could he after hurting her like that? Wouldnât his presence only make her trauma worse? But he couldnât argue with your words. Your eyes conveyed everything you said to be truth. You whole-heartedly believed it to be.Â
âI have never understood human emotion. Knowing what to do or say has always troubled me, and I know I have hurt people before,â he began with a troubled expression before smiling at you, âBut your words give me a bit of confidence.â
You laughed.Â
âIf I accomplished anything today, I am glad it is at least that. You are a wonderful person, Monsieur Neuvillette, and everyone seems to know that but you. Sometimes I find it sad to see.â
He coughed.Â
âIâm not sure I understand what you mean.â
That evening, you were not bound by the restraints your job put upon you, so you accepted his invitation to dinner. You asked him about the future plans of Fontaine and the rebuilding efforts. He inquired about the missing package you discovered a few weeks back. And when he finally returned back to his home, for the first time in weeks, he was able to sleep with ease.Â
It was ever since then that something began to change in him. Though he always enjoyed your company, he found himself inviting you to stay longer during your weekly deliveries. Heâd even ask if youâd like to accompany him to showings at the Opera Epliclese. Seeing you once a week simply was not enough any longer. When youâd inevitably leave after each visit, heâd be left with a strange empty feeling in his chest.Â
It most certainly didnât help that youâd always laugh when heâd ask you to stay as if you seen through him from the very start. Your beautiful eyes would sparkle and a hint of pink would tint your cheeks. You always seemed to know when his eyes were on you, to which youâd always look away in a terrible attempt to hide the small smile upon your lips. You enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed yours. But it still wasnât enough.
He decided to tell Furina about it on a day she invited him to tea. The time they spent together was always a delight, much thanks to your words of encouragement. But this time around, his admittance toward wanting you near threw his companion into a state of confusion. Pressed back against her chair with her cup of freshly spilled tea upon the floor and an incredulous flustered expression upon her face, she looked at him in horror.
âDo⌠Do you really not know?â She asked, doing her best to keep her voice gentle.
âIâm afraid I donât understand what you mean. Is it⌠supposed to mean something?â He asked.
Furina abruptly stood with a start and began to pace within her small living room, cheeks flushed and face in hands. After a few moments, she then stopped and turned to him.
âYouâve spent hours with this person, even inviting them to spend time with you outside of work, because you feel lonely when theyâre gone and still you donât know what it means!?â She groaned.
Ignoring the way she seamlessly transitioned back into her hydro archon persona, he couldnât help but feel a bit sheepish at her exasperation. She knew very well he did not understand emotions, but was this as big of a deal as she was making it out to be? He really didnât think this was that important of a matter. Was there anything wrong with wishing to spend more time with you?Â
âI suppose it can be said that I view them as a good friend,â he began so as to fish for the right answer.Â
But apparently, it was the wrong one, for she went right back to burying her face in her hands, this time while twisting around as if trying to shake off a bug.Â
âJust how many operas have you watched? Were you not paying attention to any of them?â She accused pointedly.Â
She finally stabbed a finger into his chest with frustration blazing in her eyes.
âYou are in love, Neuvillette. In. Love.â
Needless to say, he left her home that day with much to think about. If she was rightâhe didnât doubt her wordsâwhat was he to do next? He enjoyed spending time with you, that was true. He always felt a pang of sadness whenever you left. And if he had to think about it more, he found you, well, stunning. The softness of your smile, the sparkle in your eyesâhis heart soared when he was the cause of it.Â
But he couldnât exactly say if his feelings for you meant he should act on it. There were many things to consider. You werenât from Fontaine, and your job had you on the move most of the time. As Iudex, he didnât have much free time either. But those problems paled in comparison to the main problem at hand.Â
What were your feelings for him?
Such were the state of his thoughts the next time you arrived and accepted his invitation to stay for a bit. So nervous he was with his newfound feelings that he truly didnât know much of what he was speaking about. His heart was nearly beating out of his chest, and deep down, he was near positive you were looking right through him. You always could.Â
But if that were the case, why didnât you seem surprised? Why did you always accept his invitations? Why did your lips curl into that beautiful smile when your eyes fell upon him? Why did a flush color your cheeks whenever he asked you to stay? Why did you look at him like that, likeâ
âYouâre in love.â
His words spoken aloud only registered in his mind when your eyes blown wide and posture froze tense. He didnât mean to say it, he didnât mean to speak, but the damage was already dealt. By the way your mouth hung open, it seemed you were trying to find what to say, but no words came. Eventually, you could do nothing more than to hide your face in what he could only assume to be embarrassment and outrage.Â
As much guilt as he felt for throwing you into such a state, he also could not deny the sorrow that rose up within his heart. He thought you could possibly⌠But that was foolish, wasnât it? He didnât understand human emotions. He knew that. But when you looked at him like that, how could he not let his hubris rise? In the end, he was mistaken. And that mistake would cost him you. He looked away.
âI apologizeââ
âMonsieur NeuvilletteâŚâÂ
And just like that, his attention was brought back to you once more. How could he ignore the sound of his name upon your tongue, especially when you called it so softly? And though your hands still covered your face and your eyes seen between spread fingers still avoided his, he could see that you were not upset, nor were you ashamed. Rather, you were completely and utterly flustered as if all along, he had beenâ
âAm I that obvious?â
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yooo is there any chance I can request parent headcanons for the safehouse crew (cod: bocw)??? been replaying the bo2 campaign and the Adler is Graves' father theory has a grip on me esp recently now that that mf is coming back
I imagine that Adler is a pretty distant parent, what with work in the CIA taking up most of his time and probably isn't able to see his kid much to begin with after the divorce, no doubt his ex wife has full custody of any of the children they had during that marriage. he's the kind of dad to buy his teenage kid expensive gifts to make up for the times he couldn't be there, usually related to something they were mildly interested in when they were like 7. And that thing is probably one of the only things he knows about them because they ranted about it to him when they were really young and naive. Russ is not as good as vocalizing his affection, but he's observant, and would zero in on any information and likes that his kid has when they express it... It's just that the usually don't with the distance between them. I think he does genuinely care about his child and still wants to show that they appreciate them, but just doesn't know how to properly connect with them on an emotional level, and usually doesn't even have the time. I don't think he'd treat his kid much differently based on their gender, he's still an emotionally-supressed mostly absentee father that his child would kind of just grow to resent as they get older. Adler is the 'he tried' dad. (I hc that Graves his kid is also the most likely to have a wild rebellious teens phase, and he'd kind of just let it happen so long as they aren't getting into any legal trouble because at that point their relationship would be so strained and he's just kinda apathetic about it. I think he's the type that would come home late to catch his kid smoking, and the only thing he'd do is ask why they started and if they know the consequences of it, then promptly asks for one and never brings it up again.)
Hudson, on the contrary, would be the perfect dad. Girl dad 100%, this man has a wife and two daughters (I think, might need to double check this one, but point still stands because I think he'd be good with girls). This man deserves a bo burnham 1985 edit. I think that he's really the type of guy who tries to squeeze in as much quality time with his family even with his work, and is the type to frequently show affection and pride for his children. Jason is completely soft for his wife and children, in contrast to how much of a no-nonsense hardass he is on the job. I am utterly convinced that this is the man who would always play along with his daughter's tea parties when he has tine and would never miss any of his son's games (he'd ask Jenny to record it for him if he's knows he's gonna be on a mission for a long time). I imagine that he really goes the extra mile to be the best role model for his kids, being both responsible and loving even with the limited presence he has because of his job. Hudson is the father figure some us needed in life ngl.
I don't think Mason would be an abusive dad contrary to what most people would take away from the one interaction we see with him and a very young David. I definitely think he'd have some major anger issues though, no doubt that trauma from The Numbersâ˘ď¸ and all the shit he's gone through as soldier and later CIA op would have an impact on him. He would never lay a hand on his own kid, but he's definitely shouted at them pretty frequently and has likely broken objects around them when he's angry. Much more so after his wife's death and being left as a single dad who barely has any idea what he's doing, and the only other person who can rein him in from it is Frank. I think he's more affectionate and less emotionally distant than Adler, but still just not as close as he should be to his child. He'd apologize for his outbursts and all but, being raised with traditional values from the 30s-40s, he isn't really the type to have those heartfelt talks about feelings because men are supposed to be strong and being emotional makes you weak and all that crap. Would be tougher with a son, and stricter with a daughter. Alex would become a lot more understanding and open over time when his kid grows older, and mellow out as an old man and just be proud of how they turned out despite how he was. The anger issues never really dissipates, but he learns to control it and be better for his kid for the remainder of his life. Mason is the dad you'd resent and have so much anxiety over in your teens and twenties but eventually make up with and get closure by your late thirties or so.
Woods would definitely be more of a fun uncle than a dad. More of the tough love type, but will always remind his kid that they're appreciated at the end of the day. But I also imagine he's a lot more reckless snd clumsy, specially as a first-time father. May not be perfect, has his own shortcomings in a lot of places, but he's really trying his best. I imagine that he probably tiptoed a lot when it came to raising David, trying not to yell at him too much and tried to be his anchor as much as he can after he was tricked into killing Alex (and then promptly going off on him when he shows face again after thirty years). Frank would be considerate and very vocal about his appreciation for his kid despite . Woods is the lovable old man that you'd have a lot of funny memories to look back on, and cussing you out is just his own way of saying he loves you.
I don't have as much thoughts on them but I think Park would be very overprotective, especially if she had a daughter. Would shelter her child and be very strict with them, making sure she knows how and where her kid is all the time, who her kid is with, and how safe they are. Would make her child wear a tracker watch and tell her all and any people they meet or see. Madam Shell's betrayal and her brother's death have definitely left a mark on her, and she would excessively worry about them at all times, to the point of it being suffocating and very invasive Lazar is the balance to this, more lenient and lets his kid have a right to privacy and freedom. Sure, he still worries a lot, but he has enough faith in his child to let then go off on their own when they're at an appropriate age. I also imagine that he gives the best best hugs. Sims would be somewhere in between, albeit more leaning on the stricter side.
AHHHH THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO ANSWER I'M SORRY
bUuuuT
i love this idea so I'm gonna do silly little headcannons for it
How the Safehouse Crew treat their kid
Russell Adler
He's absolutely an absent dad
It's not that he does it on purpose, it's just what happens with his job
Russell tries so hard. So hard to be there, but a lot of the time he just can't because of work
If his kid does any sports, you can bet your ass that he's gonna be at any games he can
Now, that's not a lot, but still
Adler absolutely cheers the loudest anytime that his kid does anything
He'll also argue with the refs or umpires about dumb calls
Has been kicked out multiple times
Russell also buys his kid anything that they want
Christmas with him is like out of a damn movie
Presents are practically stacked to the roof and each one is more extravagant than the last
Is definitely the type of parent to dump a bunch of money on his kid for whatever they want
It's his way of making up for barely being around
Has missed his visitation days a lot
Every time he does, Adler sends money and presents as an apology
One time, his kid was staying over at his house because they got into an argument with their mom
He came home late and was met with the sight of his only child smoking cigarettes in the living room
"You know what those do to your lungs?"
The kid just stared for a second before nodding in shock
"Good. Don't be surprised when you get lung cancer. Lord knows I'm already getting close to that. Give me one."
The kid hands over the whole pack, and Adler takes one, lights it, and hands it back. "Don't tell your mother."
On the times that he actually has off and has the kid, he tries to make a whole day out of spending time together
Adler takes them to an amusement park or something, and its just plain awkward the whole time
But, by the end of the day, they're just a little closer
Mainly because they had a heart to heart on the car ride home
They even hugged!
Yay!
And then nothing changed
Boo >:(
Jason Hudson
Girl dad 100%
He's the dad that everyone needs
So supportive, no matter what
Jason does, in fact, have two girls. And, if I remember right, he loves them more than anything
This man absolutely has been caught playing princesses and knights with his daughters by his wife
His favorite thing is to sit at the tiny tables and have a tea party
Loves his kids so much
If he had a son, Hudson would teach him how to throw a football
Definitely would push him to join a sport
If he does, Hudson goes to every game
Just like Adler, he cheers the loudest
If his girls get boyfriends, you can bet your ass that he's going to let them know that he has multiple guns and absolutely knows how to use it
#WillThreatenToKillThem
Jason has to be told by his wife to leave them alone
He only does because he loves his wife so so much and he'd kill for her
Lots of physical affection
Hugs and all that good stuff
His kids definitely won't be touch starved
Is absolutely who they go to first whenever something happens and they need help/support
If he ever catches his kid doing something that they shouldn't, like smoking, he has to try really hard not to yell at them. He pretty much has to walk away to cool off before he can approach the conversation in a way that he wants to
Hudson and his kid are going to have a long talk that ends in a hug and a promise not to do it again
Overall his kids are well behaved and he's a good dad
Alex Mason
My poor boy
I love him so much, anger issues and all
Any time that he screams and breaks things in front of his kid, he calls Woods to come and pick them up so he can take care of things
He always feels horrible after he yells. Alex never wanted to hurt anyone. Quite the opposite, actually. He just doesn't know how to control his anger
Throughout the kids developmental years, he tries his best not to yell or get angry, but a lot of the time he can't stop himself in time
In comes one Frank Woods, who ends up coming over and taking the kid out for ice cream or to the park or just for a drive
He ends up being that cool uncle that the kid goes to when something happens
When he gets discharged (Honorably) from the military, Mason ends up going to therapy
And anger management classes
Only reason he does is because his kid ends up yelling back when he gets angry
And he realizes that he fucked up :(
So that helps him mellow out for his kids later years
Definitely apologizes to his kid for how they were raised
Alex won't over explain or get all mushy, but it'll come up as a simple "I'm sorry for how you were raised," and leave it at that
Will express his feelings through gifts or spending quality time with his kid
If he gets grandkids, Alex will take that as the time to make up for his kids shitty childhood
Best granddad for real
When he's older, he won't mind as much when it comes to telling his kid that he's proud of them
Lots of praise
Frank Woods
HE'S SO BABY GIRL I CAN'T
LOOK AT THIS GIF
Anyway
Definitely the type of dad to pretend that his kid is in trouble and then it turns out to be a prank
He would absolutely do it just like he did in the scene of the gif
Frank wouldn't yell at his kid, more just yell in general
He'll scream over football games, tv shows, dropping something, anything
He does not care
His kid would be used to loud noises by double digits
Woods would absolutely not know that his kid was sneaking out until Alex caught them
He doesn't particularly care, but he's a little disappointed that they didn't ask him if they could go
Instead of yelling, he would sit them down and have a serious discussion
Lots of "You could have just asked," and, "How many times have you done it?"
Basically he'd get his kid to quit because he knows it's a bad habit
I can't remember if he's a smoker or not, but if he is he would go through the process of quitting with said kid
Helen Park
She's kind of a shitty mom, ngl
Park can be good at it when she wants to, but she's got her own shit that he's going through
She can't handle a kid
In the early years, she's a little neglectful and absent
Then she does a full 180 and goes full over-protective mom mode
Trackers, constant phone calls, reassuring messages
The whole nine yards
She'll try her best to stop if her kid says something, but her anxiety is way too high to stop fully
Definitely the kind of mom to apologize through gifts
One fond memory that her kid would have of their younger years is her sneaking into their room and climbing into bed with them
She just sat there and held them, silently telling them how much she loved them
Helen thought their kid was asleep, not awake and hearing everything she was saying
Park definitely let her kid sneak into her bed when they had nightmares or got sick
She secretly loves it and is sad when they stop doing it
Okay that's all I got-
I didn't mean for this to take so long to make
#bean writes#cod cold war x reader#cod cold war#cod bocw#russell adler#russell adler x reader#helen park x reader#helen park#frank woods x reader#frank woods#alex mason x reader#alex mason#jason hudson x reader#jason hudson
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