#and it does of course understand it's being bitter and that it's nice for us as lesbians to have things

[puppydolled]

it isn't allowed to talk about this on twitter or else people try to kill it but it hates what happened to signalis, commodified until it means literally nothing and everyone Has to create more fan Content so they can continue to consume it without respite

[sunniques]

— 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ?

➺ PAIRING: lee heeseung x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepbrother au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: the story of how your stepbrother’s girlfriend realizes her boyfriend has never really been hers.

➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infidelity, possessiveness, heeseung can lift reader, cucking kink, voyeurism, masturbation (f), oral sex (f), fingering, face sitting, unprotected sex, creampies

➺ WC: 4.6k

NOTE: don’t like, don’t read.

A lot of people find your relationship with your stepbrother cute. How could they not? He’s always so doting and protective like a real brother would be. In spite of being only slightly older, Heeseung takes on a very important role in your life. He constantly goes out of his way to take care of you, making sure you have anything you could possibly need.

Heeseung’s girlfriend never thought too much about the relationship between you two. It was natural that he took the naive college freshman under his wing and constantly had you by his side. Mina found it endearing, actually. The way he worried about you like a mother hen who wasn’t ready for her young chick to go into the world alone is adorable and a good sign. After dating so many inconsiderate losers, she thinks she’s finally chosen the right guy.

But somewhere along the way, Mina starts to grow tired of it. Time has gone by, and you’re no longer a naive freshman who can’t get around without her boyfriend’s help. Of course family is important, but it’s not like you’re entirely helpless. And yet, that’s exactly the way Heeseung acts. He’s always ready to drop everything when you need him. On several humiliating occasions, he’s even left her half naked on his bed just to go to you because you bought something you couldn’t figure out how to put together, or because you wanted to hang out with him.

It’s hard for Mina to admit that she’s a little jealous. Especially because it all seems so ridiculous. There’s no way her boyfriend actually wants you like that. But as time goes on, she thinks that maybe she’s not all that crazy. Especially with the affectionate way her boyfriend looks at you. Despite all this, Mina doesn’t say anything. At least, not until Heeseung starts to bring you along to what were meant to be dates.

“Babe, why do you keep bringing your stepsister? i thought we were going on a date?” It’s hard for her to not sound bitter and annoyed.

“Her roommate is going to visit her parents, and I don’t want Y/N to be alone.” His tone is kind and gentle like always, but it’s also firm and leaves no room for arguments.

What’s worse is that Mina can’t bring herself to hate or blame you. In a way, she understands why her boyfriend is always so concerned about you. You’re so nice and trusting that it would be way too easy for someone to take advantage of that. There’s also the fact that you’ve been more than willing to let them have some alone time, but Heeseung never lets you leave.

It’s all so strange and frustrating that Mina feels like she has to take matters into her own hands. So she does.

The key to Heeseung letting you go is getting you a boyfriend—or at least getting you to start dating. It’s easy enough to find a guy who’s interested in you. That’s never been a problem for you, and all it takes is her showing your picture to the cute guy in her communications class for her plan to fall into place. As luck would have it, you’re also into meeting the guy and going out with him.

Little did Mina know, setting you up with him would be a mistake that would cost her everything.

On the night you’re meant to meet up with her classmate, Mina excitedly goes to her boyfriend’s apartment. It’s been a long time since she got to be alone with Heeseung, and she was going to make the most of it.

She’s dressed in tiny tank top and a cute little skirt that Heeseung loves—it barely hides the lingerie she’s wearing underneath. Mina quietly lets herself into her boyfriend’s apartment using her spare key. Quietly, she tiptoes to his room only to find the door wide open. What she doesn’t expect is to find you sitting on his the edge of bed while Heeseung kneels in front of you.

Mina feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped on her as his pretty hands rub your soft thighs. You look incredible, clad in a cute little dress with your makeup and hair done to perfection. It’s a mistake for Mina to keep watching, but she can’t find her voice at the moment.

“Seungie, what’s wrong?”

God, Mina hates that you call him that. Mostly because she can tell how much Heeseung likes it.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going out to meet some guy?” Heeseung sounds almost venomous, but it’s like you don’t hear it. “Who is he? How’d you meet him?”

You tilt your head, pretty lips pulled down in a confused frown. “Didn’t Mina tell you? She set me up with a guy from her class. He’s really cute!”

A chill goes down Mina’s spine. She can see Heeseung’s back tense when you tell him how your date came to be. The air feels almost murderous as he gently squeezes your thighs.

It kills Heeseung that he was almost too late in stopping you from meeting some strange guy in the pretty little dress you have on. He softly rubs your thighs, eyes simmering with anger and desire he doesn’t care to hide. Not anymore.

“Oh, angel.” Your stepbrother murmurs, hands slowly trailing up to your thighs. “You know you’re my favorite girl, right?”

An unsuspecting smile graces your lips. “Yeah. And you’re my favorite guy.”

Heeseung hums in satisfaction as his fingers ghost the edges of your dress. He watches your eyebrows furrow, but you don’t say anything. As always, you have blind trust in your stepbrother. That’s all the indication he needs to get up and push you down on his bed. Heeseung hovers over you, loving how you’re staring up at him with sparkling, wide eyes. He swoops down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

Your heart is racing in your chest as Heeseung forces his tongue into your mouth. Despite the initial shock, you quickly melt into the kiss. He swallows your moans, pulling you closer as he deepens the messy kiss. You mewl into his mouth, carding your fingers through his hair with desire you had never realized you had for him.

Meanwhile, Mina can only watch as her boyfriend kisses you with a passion that he clearly never felt for her. It feels like her heart is ripping in half as Heeseung begins to undress you. Tears well up in her eyes when he groans at the sight of the lingerie adorning your body. Mina can see how hard he is from where she’s standing, and the desire in his eyes is very different from the way he looks at her.

“Can’t believe you got all pretty for some other boy.” Heeseung spits as he starts to undress. “Were planning on letting him fuck you?”

You shake your head and go to speak, but you can’t when Heeseung roughly pulls off your lingerie then his own underwear. His cock is thick and big, possibly the biggest you’ve ever seen. It’s twitching and leaking as he looks at you with his dark eyes.

“W-We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whine as Heeseung shoves your thighs to your stomach and licks a broad stripe up your wet pussy.

Your stepbrother groans at your sweet taste, thrusting his tongue into your dripping hole. He laps up the juices leaking out of your slit, circling his tongue on your clit for good measure. The noise you let out is downright pornographic and pure music to Heeseung’s ears.

“Seungie!” You keen as you spread your legs and tangle your hands in his messy hair. “I– Fuck!”

Heeseung pulls back with a wet slurp to spread your cunt open with his big hands. “God. You have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, angel. Just had to taste it.”

Each one of his words is like a dagger to Mina’s heart and confidence. Wet tears trickle down her face, but she doesn’t say anything as you pull on her boyfriend’s hair. Heeseung only moans and dives back into your slick cunt. He greedily laps up everything that drips out of you, sucking and kissing your clit.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, Hee.” You repeat through a needy mewl, making no attempt to stop him. In fact, you buck your pussy into his mouth as he sucks on your sensitive bud.

“Shh, angel.” Heeseung shushes as he flicks his tongue across your swollen bud. “Just relax and let me eat you out. Been wanting to do this for so long.”

Mina swallows thickly, the hurt slowly being replaced by something else. Her eyes grow bigger when she realizes which feeling is taking over. She shifts slightly, feeling a familiar wetness begin to pool in her panties. Mina feels sick that the sight of her boyfriend cheating on her can turn her on, and she thinks that she should leave right now and never return.

But she stays.

Mina licks her lips and continues to watch. Even she can’t help but think how hot you look, whimpering and writhing as Heeseung pushes your thighs apart so he can bury his face deeper in your pussy. He flicks his tongue, slowly descending until he’s lapping at your hole, slowly fucking the wet muscle in and out. Your eyes roll back as your stepbrother eats your pussy like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

The sounds coming from your pussy and the way Heeseung messily eats you out has Mina’s own cunt clenching with need. She can feel her underwear start to stick to her cunt as she watches her boyfriend lap up your arousal like a starved man. Mina bites her lip, feeling sick and twisted for being turned on by your pretty moans.

Heeseung suddenly pulls away, but not before he slaps your thigh playfully. He goes to lay on his back all while wearing a filthy smirk. “Sit on my face.”

You bite your lip as a hot flash of arousal pulses through your body. Both your and Mina’s cunts throb at the suggestion. Heeseung sees your hesitation, but doesn’t back down.

“C’mon, baby. Be a good little stepsister and ride my fucking face.” He growls out with dark eyes.

With your pussy dripping, you crawl over to him and kneel over his face. Mina watches with heated eyes as you slowly lower your cunt on her boyfriend’s face. The heat in her stomach grows when she hears Heeseung groan in satisfaction.

“That’s it. I want your pretty pussy suffocating me.”

With that, your stepbrother grabs your hips and pulls your cunt down onto his face with a groan. Mewling quietly, you rub your cunt all over his mouth. Every time he moans or grunts, it sends little vibrations through your pussy. The delicious feeling has you grinding down on his tongue as you chase that feeling. Heeseung eagerly fucks his wet muscle into your hot cunt, already addicted to your sweet taste.

Mina swallows thickly when he sees Heeseung thrusting into the air as he eats you out. His cock is leaking and throbbing with need. Fuck. How she’d like to go and lick all that up, to have him fuck her mouth as he fucks you with his tongue. Mina rubs her thighs to soothe the growing ache in her pussy as she watches you ride Heeseung’s face.

Your eyes roll back when your stepbrother slaps your ass. A loud squeal spills from your lips as Heeseung keeps fucking his tongue up into your cunt. He grabs your ass and kneads it roughly. With one last groan and flick of his tongue, he sits up and takes you with him. The effortless display of strength turns both women on, one containing her moan while the other cries out as she’s pressed back into the mattress.

“Such a sweet little cunt.” Heeseung moans as he buries his face back into your dripping cunt. “Shit, Y/N. You’re fucking soaked down here.”

“Heeseung!” You cry out as he pries your thighs further apart. Your stepbrother shakes his head to grind his tongue against your sensitive cunt.

“Fuck, you have the hottest little pussy.” Heeseung lifts his head with a groan, lips shiny with your arousal. “Missed eating some good pussy. It’s been so long.”

Mina feels pathetic that her cunt throbs at his degrading words. She bites her lip, hands trailing up her thigh and to her soaked underwear. It’s so filthy and humiliating, but the ache in her pussy is getting to be too much. She slowly rubs circles on her covered cunt as she keeps watching her boyfriend cheat on her.

“Fuck, Seungie.” You mewl desperately. “S-Shouldn’t like having your face buried in my cunt.”

Heeseung smirks into your wetness. He gently circles his tongue on your clit, kissing it tenderly before he gently starts to nip at it with his teeth. Mina shoves her panties aside when you moan out in pleasure. Now she’s furiously rubbing at her bare pussy, wanting to see you cum on her boyfriend’s face.

“But you do, baby. You like me fucking you with my tongue, and I fucking love eating this sweet little pussy.”

Your hips buck up at the words, grinding your cunt against his mouth as you moan for him. Juices drip out of you lewdly, leaking down to your ass and onto Heeseung’s sheets. Your head is swimming with pleasure, and you have to remember that this is all so very wrong.

“You like that?” Heeseung teases you, loving how you’ve turned into putty in his hands. “Answer me, Y/N. Do you like your stepbrother telling you how much he loves tasting your juicy cunt?”

Your back arches when Heeseung sucks your puffy bud into his mouth. “God—yes! Feels so fucking good, Hee! Love having your mouth on my pussy.”

Heeseung growls, the vibrations making your cunt throb as he sucks and licks your swollen clit. Eager to have you cum on his tongue, he slips two fingers into your fluttering hole. Mina follows in suit, unable to take her eyes off the erotic sight of you getting ate out and fingered. Fuck. This was better than any porn she had ever watched. Her hand is dripping with her own arousal, and she can’t even feel disgusted anymore that she’s so turned on by the entire situation.

“Mmmh, shit, Hee.” You whine as the tips of his fingers brush against the gummy spot inside you. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Do it, baby. Cream all over my tongue.” He purrs in delight. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

Heeseung flattens his tongue on your clit while his fingers grind into the spongy spot in your cunt. Your back arches off the bed, orgasm whiting out your thoughts as you cum around his long fingers.

Mina has to cover her mouth as Heeseung moans along with you. By now she’s shoved her fingers into her sopping pussy, the squelching sound is drowned out from the sounds coming from your own pussy. The filthy sight is driving her wild, and she’s so delirious with arousal that she wishes Heeseung would just fuck you already.

“You’re amazing, angel.” Your stepbrother praises with his fingers still buried knuckle deep in your pussy as he softly strokes your velvety walls. “So soft and wet. It makes me want to shove my dick into your tight little hole.”

Heeseung slowly pulls his fingers out of you, and you can only watched with a lidded gaze as he moves his body between your thighs. His cock is twitching and leaking as he grabs the base. He smacks his cock down on your slippery pussy, dragging his drooling tip up and down your slit slowly. Mina has to press her hand into her mouth harder to stifle her filthy moans. The sight of her boyfriend pressing his drooling cockhead into your soaking pussy is so hot she might just cum all over her fingers.

“S-Seungie—fuck. We shouldn’t.” You whimper as he leans forward and braces his arms by your head.

You and Mina both know you don’t really mean your words. It’s clear that you want your stepbrother to split you open on his big cock. That becomes obvious when you don’t try to stop him as he shoves his cock into your pussy until he bottoms out completely, balls pressing against your ass. Shuddering with pleasure, you scratch your nails up his arms as you sink into the bed.

“Pretty pussy was meant to take my cock.” Heeseung growls, already drunk on the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his dick. “Fuck. I know it’s wrong, baby, but I just couldn’t help myself. Your hot little cunt was just begging for my dick. Doesn’t it feel all nice and full having your pussy stuffed with your stepbrother’s big cock?"

Mina starts fucking herself harder when you nod desperately. Your hands go to tangle in his hair as you grind your hips up to meet his thrusts. “Yes! Fuck! Love my stepbrother’s cock stretching me open! Feels so fucking good, Hee!”

Mina knows better than anyone how good you must feel. Although, she imagines you feel must better than she ever did because from the way Heeseung’s fucking you, she can tell he’s doing it with much more enthusiasm and passion. Even his moans are more guttural and full of more pleasure than she’d ever heard. They’re deep as he pulls out until just his tip is spearing you open. Then, he pushes forward, thrusting his cock deep into your fluttering walls.

“That’s it. Tell me how good it feels.” Heeseung leans down, lips brushing against yours. “Don’t be shy, angel. Let me know how much you like this cock fucking you.”

You gasp wantonly and pull him down further to press your lips together. He groans and licks into your mouth easily, tongue slipping past your lips as his cock thrusts deep into your hot, wet cunt. Your hips buck up to meet his, loving how his dick rams into your sweet spot over and over until your sight is painted with pretty little stars.

“Fucking love it, Hee.” You moan between sloppy kisses. “God—I love your cock!”

The coil in Mina’s stomach is close to snapping. By now, her juices are dripping down to her wrist. Luckily, the lewd squelching and sound of skin slapping together drown out any noise she’s making. Heeseung is fucking you so hard and good that she can smell the musky scent of sex from where she’s standing. The erotic aroma turns her on even more, pussy clamping down on her fingers in desperate need of release.

“Tight little pussy feels so good.” Heeseung moans out between the quick pecks he’s giving you. “God, I love you, Y/N. So fucking much.”

Your heart races as Mina’s breaks all over again. It hurts, but somehow that just turns her on even more. She keeps fingering herself as tears pool in her eyes.

With a low moan, your pussy clamps down on Heeseung’s dick tightly as you go to eagerly kiss him. A soft I love you, too goes unnoticed by Mina, but not by your stepbrother. He groans into your mouth, cock throbbing inside you.

“Mmmh.” Heeseung hums against your lips before he trails wet kisses down your neck. “I love my gorgeous girl. That’s why this feels so good. Even your tight little pussy knows how much I love you.”

His gorgeous girl? Mina thinks deliriously, orgasm dangerously close. It’s something he never referred to her as.

You cry out loudly when Heeseung bites your neck and sucks the skin into his mouth. His hips rock against yours, balls smacking against your ass as his pelvis grinds down on your swollen clit.

“Seungie!” You whine in ecstasy. “I’m getting close.”

Your stepbrother doesn’t let up. In fact, his thrusts seem to get faster and rougher. His cock pistons in and out of your cunt, creating sloppy wet sounds as you get even wetter. His eyes are dark as he pulls back to look at you, all pretty squirming and trembling on his cock.

“Cum for me, baby. Cover my cock with your sweet cream so I can fill you up.” Heeseung pants. “Cum on my cock, angel.”

His teeth sink into your neck again, and it pushes you over the edge. Your hot cunt throbs as you squeeze down on his cock. Somehow your pussy only gets tighter and tighter as you get fucked through your orgasm. You tighten your legs around his waist until he can barely pull out, rutting his cock in short shallow thrusts as your climax starts to taper off.

“So fucking tight.” Heeseung hisses by your ear. “Shit, baby. Get ready. I’m about to creampie your cute little pussy. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

With a strangled grunt, he buries his cock to the hilt and shoots his load deep inside your fluttering walls while your pussy softly milks him for every drop of his hot cum. Mina reaches her own climax when she sees her boyfriend cumming inside you. She has to stifle her moans as she trembles and shakes outside the room that’s filled with the smell and sounds of hot sex.

“You’re taking it so well, angel.” Heeseung kisses your jaw tenderly as his fat tip spurts rope after rope of his thick cum into your clenching heat. “Milking my cock like I knew you would.”

He grinds his hips down, cock pulsing as he finishes stuffing you full of his hot, sticky load. Your stepbrother fucks his cum inside a bit more before reluctantly pulling out. Heeseung’s cock throbs as he watches his seed drip from your messy pussy.

He licks his lips, heated gaze never leaving your body. “Let’s do it again.”

You don’t try to protest as your manhandles into a different position. Mina is still coming down from her high when she realizes her boyfriend is still hard and about to fuck you again. She knows she shouldn’t feel excited or aroused by the fact, but she does. Especially when your face is shoved into one of Heeseung’s pillows just before his big cock rails back into your needy pussy.

Heeseung starts fucking you so hard his headboard slams into the wall repeatedly. The harsh sound pairs well with the plop plop plop sound coming from your cunt.

“God, Y/N. You’re so fucking good for me.” Heeseung groans when you clench down on him.

You moan loudly, bouncing yourself back on his cock. “Fu-Fuck, Seungie. This is wrong. We s-shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I know.” Your stepbrother smacks your ass, not sounding the least bit remorseful. “It’s so dirty baby, but I couldn’t help myself. Had to get my dick wet using your pretty little pussy.”

“Mmmh!” You whine out mindlessly, face turned to the side with your ass raised in the air for Heeseung to fuck deeper into your wet hole. “Feels so fucking good!”

“Yeah, it does.” Heeseung’s laugh sounds almost mean as he speeds up his thrusts to fuck his cock harder into your sopping cunt. “Your cute little pussy is the best I’ve ever had.”

His words shouldn’t please you as much as they do, but those lewd words turn you on so much that you can’t stop your cunt from tightening around him as he keeps spearing into you like an animal in heat. They also shouldn’t turn on Heeseung’s girlfriend but that’s exactly what they do. She isn’t angry, only extremely aroused as your ass bounces back on your stepbrother’s pelvis.

“Fuck!” Heeseung groans, fucking his cock right into your g-spot. “You’re so fucking hot, angel.”

You are. So hot that Mina finds herself wishing she could eat Heeseung’s cum out of your pretty cunt. She just knows you taste good, and mixed with her boyfriend she’s sure you must taste even better.

“Seungie, please!” You cry out, dizzy with arousal.

“Shit.” He growls, slipping a hand underneath your hips to rub fast circles on your clit. “Gonna make you cream on my cock again.”

“Heeseung!” You squeal as he picks up his pace, ramming into your squelching pussy as he rubs soft circles into your swollen clit.

Your stepbrother shoves his cock deep into your cunt and grinds, making you squirm and whine as his dick rubs against the spongy spot in your pussy. Your hands twist in the sheets. He flicks and pinches your puffy clit. God, do you look good, and so does Heeseung. Mina is groping one of her tits while the other hand goes to play with her pussy again. Briefly, she thinks she wouldn’t mind having a video of you two fucking so she can watch it over and over again.

“Hee, I’m gonna cum.” You moan against the pillow.

“Do it, baby.” He encourages you, free hand coming down to slap your ass hard. “Cum all over my cock. Want to feel your hot cunt squeeze me.”

It’s not long before your orgasm hits. You’re screaming into your pillow as your cream coats Heeseung’s big cock. Your pussy clamps rhythmically around his dick. Mina can’t see you, but with the way your toes are curling she can tell your eyes are rolling to the back of your head in pure ecstasy.

“Oh, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Heeseung praises you. His hands move to slap your ass again, making you squeal and tighten again. “Fucking work your little pussy on my cock. Fuck. Need to fill you up again.”

“Want you to stuff me full.” You whine back at him, pussy fluttering at the thought of Heeseung’s cum filling your cunt again.

“Yeah?” Your stepbrother laughs, sounding way too delighted. “Want me to creampie your hot little cunt again?”

“Please!” You whine as Heeseung’s fingers slide over your hip to start working soft circles into your clit again. You writhe back on him, feeling yourself get even wetter at the filthy thought of him shooting his hot load inside you.

“Cum inside me, Hee.” You pant, mewling when his fingers rub your clit even faster. “Want it so bad. Want to feel it.”

“Oh, fuck.” Heeseung groans, hips snapping hard against your ass when he feels how tight you’ve gotten. “You ready, baby? Fucking take it. Take your stepbrother’s cum in your needy little cunt.”

You moan loudly when you feel his hot cum filling your pussy, stuffing you so full it drips out around his cock. Heeseung ruts his spent cock into your sloppy pussy as he pinches your clit, watching as your back arches as a fourth orgasm sweeps through you. You lazily fuck your cunt back into him, loving the feeling of his cum dripping out of you and coating your thighs.

Heeseung pulls out of your warm cunt with a low groan. He’s quick to pull you against his chest and lays you down with him. His face is buried in your hair, eyes closed in bliss as you both try to catch your breaths. You feel his smile in your hair as he cuddles you and murmurs sweet praises against your temple.

Through your drooping eyes, you catch sight of Mina. Her eyes widen when you two make eye contact. You can’t hide your smirk when you see that she was masturbating to the sight of Heeseung fucking you raw. Instead of saying anything, you give her a seductive wink. Mina clenches around her fingers because the wink is full of understanding and promises.

It’s clear that Heeseung was never hers, but maybe you wouldn’t mind sharing.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Two ships (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Two people who do not understand each other, but keep coming back together. Familiar much? It’s the tale you share with your brother, Daemon.

Warnings: Crybaby! Reader. Medieval punishment for children. Canon character death (Alyssa and Baelor) Sexual thoughts. Prostitution. Mature language. Incest. Fluff.

A/N: In which we explore the complicated dynamics of the sister wife. Requested. We also suscribe to @just-some-random-blogger doctrine about Daemon being a scary unhinged man but soft for the reader.

THE FIRST TIME your brother makes you cry is when you are eight years old. It is, of course, not the first time you tear up because of him. But there is a difference between tearing up because he tugged too hard on your braid, or because he cut your favorite doll’s hair and what he did to you that day.

You shall never forget the reason for your mother’s death, not for the rest of your life. It’s one of those core memories, a truth of the universe. You cannot forget fire burns, you cannot forget water is wet, and you cannot forget your mother is dead because of you. Even if you do not know when you learned those facts, they are still there. Tucked into your mind.

As a child, you used to be quiet. You barely cried, or demanded things of anyone. As the youngest and only girl of the household, you often felt like there was an unbreachable gap between you and your family. And so, you filled your days with your lessons, and behaved well, eager for praise and attention.

Your relationship with your brothers was complicated. Your father was often far away, busy with his important position, so Viserys felt more like a parent than a sibling. The age difference didn’t help things along. While you were still learning how to walk, his betrothal was already negotiated.

Daemon, while much closer in age, is much more distant too. He is mercurial, playing the cruelest tricks on you, but also defending you from other children. Just last week, he had dyed your beloved white dog green, but he had also punched a steward’s son for mocking your braids.

He can never decide if he hates you or loves you. And today, it’s one of the days he hates you. You can’t do anything right, it seems. As you break your fast, with Viserys cutting up your food for you, he calls you a baby. When the Septa comes to get you for your lessons, you are a suck-up. His bad mood escalates during the day, and when your father arrives for lunch and dares ruffle your hair, Daemon doesn't hesitate to call you a cocksucker whore.

For his offense, his mouth is washed with soap. It is not a punishment you have ever endured, because everyone knows ladies don’t get physical punishments, but it looks unpleasant. Whatever cocksucker whore means mustn't be very nice.

By the time his punishment is over, your father is long gone again. He has disappeared into his chambers, and Viserys has been left with the bitter task of reconciling you.

“You will apologize to our sister.” He orders Daemon. “Now.”

“NO!” Daemon shrieks, face blotchy from the humiliation of his mouth being washed with soap. He has not shed a single tear, which you find admirable despite yourself. The taste alone would make you gag, and that is without including the humiliation of a servant holding you while Viserys does the deed.

You feel awkward at the thought. Something doesn’t sit right with the thought of such a thing being a punishment, but you do not dare voice it. You simply sit in the chair Viserys has pulled for you and kick your feet. It soothes you slightly.

“Take it back, Daemon or so help me the Seven…”

“I will not take it back!” Daemon screams, pushing at Viserys. “She is a little whore! She has you all wrapped around her little finger, and now you will send me away…”

“Daemon.” Viserys grabs his wrists, in warning. With several years and a growth spurt on his side, he manages to subdue him easily. You worry that will not be the case for much longer. Daemon looks very different from your peaceful Viserys, shoulders broader, hands a bit bigger. In a few years, he will become a fearsome warrior, and Viserys will still be your bookish older brother.

“Why do I have to go squire for some stupid lord, anyway? We are the blood of the dragon! We do not need those fools.” At this new information, you frown. You clutch your doll more tightly. No one had informed you Daemon had to go squire away from Viserys and you.

“Fostering is important. It helps us form bonds with other houses.” Viserys explains, with the patience of someone who has had this argument already. You tug on your doll, feeling sadder by the minute. Everyone knew but you?

“Why don’t we send her away?” Daemon points at you, and a sudden wave of fear hits you. Viserys can’t agree with him. You cannot leave. Your panic almost makes you miss his next words. “She is the reason mother is dead. I hate her.”

And the world stops for a second. The argument goes on, Viserys screaming at Daemon, but you are still stuck there. Your ears begin to ring, so you press your hands tightly to them and shake your head.

By the Seven, Daemon is right, you realize with growing horror. Your father and Septa always told you your mother had died the way you were born, from the difficult birth. Tears begin to fall down your face, but you barely notice them. It feels like you are choking.

In your childish mind, the death of your mother in childbirth, and your birth had never been connected. You never thought it had been your fault. But Daemon was right. She was dead because she had birthed you. It was your birth that killed her.

Her death was your fault. You killed her.

No. No. It can’t be right.

“That is not true.” You turn to Viserys, uncaring they have long since moved on with the argument. He has always protected you and reassured you. Even takes care to get rid of the monsters beneath your bed every night. He will fix it. “Brother, he is lying again!”

Viserys makes a strange face. A cross between a grimace and a frown. He doesn’t refute it, nor tries to comfort you.

“It’s the truth.” Daemon smiles, with the smugness of someone who has delivered a killing blow. He advances, his eleven-year-old body seeming larger than life to you, and pokes a finger in your sternum. “You killed her.”

It feels like a rug has been pulled from under your feet. You stumble back. It’s all your fault. Your mother is dead, and your father is never home, haunted by the memory of his wife, because of you. Daemon and Viserys lost their mother, because of you.

You killed her. You killed her. You killed her. The world looks the same around you, despite the revelation, and you wonder if it is so because everyone knew but you. Is it why Daemon doesn’t love you? Why father is never around?

A sob makes its way out of your throat, and then another. And another. Soon, you are bawling like a dying animal, and feel like it too. You cry so much, your little heart feels like it will jump out of your chest and you will die. You cannot breathe, choking in your own snot and tears, and panic makes you nauseous.

Never in your life had you ever cried so. A nervous fit, the Maester will call it later, after you puke your lunch and stop making heaving noises like you are lacking air. One caused by extreme distress. Daemon will be standing guard at the foot of your bed when you come to be again. They had ended up having to give you three drops of Milk of the Poppy to calm you down.

It doesn’t happen again, and you barely remember it when you grow up. But Daemon never forgets it.

CRYING IS A weakness that cannot be tolerated. The three of you had been born dragons, but sometimes Daemon doubted Viserys and you had as much fire in your veins as he did.

Said doubt intensifies when he finds you crying in the gardens. Daemon has never been fond of crying women. He is not an empathetic man, and has a tendency to think he is surrounded by fools. Such a character trait doesn’t lend itself to soothing crying maidens. At least, not sincerely.

If he wants to bed the chit, Daemon can pretend like the best mummer. It’s not hard at all to fool highborn maidens into thinking he shares something special with them, convincing them that the pain won’t last, that it will start to feel good soon. When it comes to you, though, the problems start.

You are not a common whore, like most women at court. As a daughter of House Targaryen, you are closer to a goddess than a woman. Fooling a goddess is no easy task, much less when the goddess knows you so well.

His usual tricks do not work. When Daemon tries to apply faux pity, and forced pleasantries, you see right through him. It’s not because you are particularly cunning, but rather the fact that you have a long memory.

Long enough to remember all the pranks and fun he had had at your expense when the two of you were children. With how much Daemon tortured you, it’s no wonder you prefer Viserys.

Daemon never meant to be as nasty to you as he had been. He coveted the attention Viserys paid you, as the youngest in the family. He disliked how everyone fawned over you, how his mother had died, and his father had left, and all they had gotten in exchange was you.

Another part of Daemon simply enjoyed mischief. Causing chaos for chaos’s sake. Like any young boy, he had fun playing tricks on others. The disdain he felt for you had made you into the ideal target.

When the years began to pass, Daemon had noticed you were flourishing into a beautiful maiden. Targaryen custom dictated you were meant to be his, since you were too young to be Viserys’. There was no point in fixing your relationship, or trying to win you over like he did with the other maidens. You were a given thing. No matter your shared past, you would have to marry him.

It’s only the fact that you are embarrassing the family name that prompts him to approach you in the gardens. He has no intention of comforting you. It’s not like he cares that you are crying. Really. How ridiculous.

“What happened to you?” Daemon asks, sitting next to you. “Princess shouldn’t cry.”

It is quite recent, of course. Viserys' ascension to the throne has not actually yet occurred, but the succession issue has been settled in their favor. Daemon had gathered a small force of loyal men that hadn’t been necessary in the end, but Viserys said his first act as King would be rewarding him from his loyalty.

He knows what he will ask for already. Marriage. His grandmother had tried to marry him to a Vale woman, but the idea had ended up being discarded because Viserys’ own match ensured the allegiance of that kingdom. Daemon wanted to have his Valyrian bride before anyone, especially the Hightower cunt, got any ideas.

“Nothing.” You wipe your tears away, angrily. You scoot your cute little rear towards the edge of the tree you are sitting under. As far as you can go without losing the spot of shade.

Daemon sighs. He is used to you being difficult, but it would soon change. You would be informed of your duty and behave in a manner befitting your position in life soon enough.

“Do I need to protect your honor?” The very thought unsettles him. Three years his younger, you are still barely a maiden in his eyes. A pure, unspoiled being. The idea of someone else corrupting your innocence, something that is meant to be his, is infuriating. Daemon hates when other people touch what is his.

If anyone will corrupt you, it’s him.

You laugh, bitterly.

“If only!”

“What do you mean?” Your statement has clarified nothing. He feels more confused than before. Perhaps, you have a secret lover who refuses to take your maidenhead? Or are you suffering from unrequited love? But when? With whom? You spend nearly all your time in the library, pouring over dusty books, or on dragonback. Not much time for entertaining suitors.

You stay quiet. There is a strange expression on your face, a mix of embarrassment and sadness.

“Hāedus.” Daemon prompts, gently tugging on your braid.

“Some ladies Aemma brought were talking about knights, and kissing…” You get a fit of hiccups and nearly choke, so Daemon is forced to wipe the snot from your nose so you don’t suffocate to death. Let it not be said he is a bad brother. “They laughed at me!”

“They laughed at you?” How dare them. Only Daemon was allowed the honor of your tears. You were too important.

“No one asked to dance with me at the feast! And no knight has ever kissed me.” You pout, about to go into hysterics again. “Ever.”

“Doña hāedus…” Daemon wipes your tears, fighting his smile. He has an inkling you wouldn’t think it funny. “You shouldn’t listen to them. You are a Princess, the blood of the dragon. They are just sheep.”

You pout more. Daemon hurries to comfort you. Oddly, he dislikes seeing tears on your face. It must be because you are in public. As a Princess and his future wife, your actions reflect on House Targaryen.

“Ugly sheep. In fact, the actual sheep in the Vale are prettier.”

“But knights have kissed them! And they get asked to dance, and to walk in the gardens, and…”

Daemon raises his hand.

“Knights would kiss you too if they could. But you are too superior to them. They wouldn’t dare.” Or they would meet Dark Sister. All your first should be his. “It’s excellent that you have not sullied yourself with just any knight who looks at you.”

“But I am getting old.”

You are about to cry again. Your female vanity must be hurt, thinking yourself unwanted. Daemon will never understand caring about what others think of him. Dragons shouldn’t concern themselves with the opinion of the sheep.

But there is something about you, the soft little Princess who crumbles up completely when someone is mean to her, that tugs at his heartstrings.

It is why he leans in and captures your mouth with his. You taste like innocence and salt, melting on his tongue. It’s not Daemon’s first kiss, but it feels like it. There is a tug deep inside of him, a strange yearning on his chest, that has not been present when he has kissed other women. Not even maidens.

Cloyingly sweet, dripping on his tongue like the most enticing potion. His. Never has he experienced this before. Daemon wants to drown on it, drown in you. But before he has a chance, you give him a shove and run as fast as you can.

And he stands there, as if struck by lighting, pinned down by the unmeasurable realization that this is love. Love, in its purest form, for his soon-to-be sister wife. It leaves him dazed, confused, rooted to the spot. Utterly out of control.

“DID YOU HEAR?” The serving girl whispers loudly, her voice carrying through the corridor. Night has fallen already, and you pour over a heavy tome on constellations while sitting in one of the windowsills of the Red Keep. It is the best time to put your new knowledge into practice, but the constant chattering of the maids interrupts you.

You close your book, hesitating between scolding them and sending them away, or waiting for them to leave on their own. Scolding them feels unkind. It’s late enough for them to no longer be on duty, and there is no harm in what they are doing. This corridor is a heavily transited one.

Perhaps you should move to your rooms. But you do not have a balcony, and the view from your windowsill it’s quite limited. As you ponder on it, something they say catches your attention.

“And they say the Prince asked for a blonde girl. A maiden.” The Prince. Daemon! You have not seen hide nor hair of your older brother since he stole your first kiss. In fact, you have been avoiding him.

As children, he had played plenty of nasty tricks on you. Once, in a fit of temper, he had beheaded all your dolls and hanged their little heads from a window. But adulthood had mellowed him out. Or so you thought.

The worst thing wasn’t that Daemon stole your first kiss. It was that you enjoyed it.

“No!” The other girl sounds scandalized.

“Yes. And that is not all. He took her roughly, and was kicked out before even…”

Took a whore roughly? You knew he whored around, but hurting whores was a new low. You weren’t too approving of his behavior, but whoring was normal for young lords. Everyone knew they did it, even the most pious ones. Hurting them, though? It was no better than being a rapist.

The other girl lets out a gasp, but she sounds more delighted by the gossip than anything else.

“Imagine how rough it had to be for them to kick him out.”

“I would say plenty. Poor girl.”

“He is out again, is he not?”

“Every night, like clockwork. Something has roused his appetite, it seems. He used to whore, but not…”

Their scandalized voices drift down the corridor, and you think the rumor must be wrong. Daemon wouldn’t hurt anyone. Sure, he whored around, and took plenty of maidenheads, but your brother wasn’t cruel.

Was he?

He had stolen your first kiss. Beyond the softness and the sweetness of the kiss, Daemon had ruined a moment that was meant to be special. Now, it was forever tainted with the memory of being made a mockery of. Not only by those girls, but him too.

There was a difference between stealing a kiss and hurting whores, though. Much more, when it came to hurting them seriously enough to be kicked out of the pleasure house.

Was it your fault? Had he discovered with you he enjoyed taking from women by force? Was he taking out his anger with you on them? The maid had said the girl was blonde. Perhaps Valyrian blonde.

You needed to know. You ran to your rooms and got your black cloak, set on finding him.

Finding Daemon was no easy task. You made it to the city on foot, but once there, you had trouble locating the pleasure houses. There was no sign outwardly pointing to them, but you managed to get to Flea Bottom without getting mugged. Or at least, this looked like what you thought Flea Bottom looked like.

The streets were dirtier, the crowd rougher and drunker. There were people sleeping on the floor, no Sept in sight. This was a place far away from the Gods. The few Goldcloaks patrolling seemed uninterested in actually preventing crime.

You made sure to walk with purpose, afraid of being stopped if you looked like you were out of place. The streets were badly lit, and you could barely tell apart one alley from another.

A sudden tune caught your attention. A woman was singing in a tongue you didn’t recognize. You decided to follow her voice, but before you could do so, someone blocked your path.

“… A dragon for half an hour.” It was a woman. Her hair was dark and hanging limp around her face. She swayed as she walked. “My prince, I will let you choke me.”

You made a face, realizing a strand of your silver hair was peeking on the edge of your hood. She thought you were Daemon, you realized. Both your brother and you kept your hair long, and in the darkness of the alley, with your hood up, you may have looked alike. Was she a whore?

“I’ll let you. A dragon, please, I need to feed my children.”

Children. She had babes. You imagined them, tucked in their beds, wondering where their mother had gone. What if something happened to her? If the children had a present father, he would provide for them, and she wouldn’t be here. It was how the world worked. She must be alone with the babes.

You reached inside your cloak, and pulled out a gold dragon. There was an odd sort of pity building inside you. You imagined yourself, offering up your body to strangers to feed your children, and your heart shattered into little pieces.

You had never questioned the role of whores. They were sullied women, but they served a purpose. Entertain the men so they didn’t hurt others. Tend to their baser needs. It didn’t feel so clear-cut as you avoided the woman, in fear she might attempt to service you.

The voice sounded louder, so you ducked into the next alleyway. It was then you saw them.

The woman singing was sitting at the entrance of a small house. She was scantily clad, as were the surrounding women. But there was only one of them who caught your attention.

She was tall and willowy, with long limbs. There was a haunting elegance to her that looked out of place in the Street of Silk. Her blonde hair was long, and in the right light, could be mistaken for silver. It cascaded down her shoulders. Her face was eerily similar to your own. She was tragically beautiful, stricken by some unseen grief.

Sitting down and clapping along to the song, she looked as if she was praying. There was a dark stain on her neck, cleverly hidden by her hair. The closer you looked, the more it seemed like a bite mark. Not just any bite. A vicious one.

You gasped, hands coming to your mouth to muffle the sound. Whores had never been of concern to you, but now you were seeing their reality, and it was heartbreaking. The thought of women in brothels, in cages, as pleasure slaves, made you want to weep.

Women like you. That she wore your face was even more jarring.

WHEN CARAXES HAD been born, he had not done so alone. Out of the ether, his sister had come, hands linked with his. Meraxes, goddess of the sky, an eternity doomed to hold to her sibling. Caraxes only reflected his twin’s colors, gazing up at her as the flowers did the sun.

It was said that they met only once a day, thanks to the mercy of Gaelithox, who allowed the twins to embrace every sunset. It was the reason Meraxes hated him. He held on to her too strong, and prevented her from embracing the one who she truly loved. He invaded even her reflection, seeking to make himself a part of her, even invading her sacred reflection in the waters of her twin.

The story was always one of your favorites. You begged Viserys every night to tell it to you, sickening Daemon with your romantic tales. He isn’t sure why he is reminded of it today, of all days.

Foreboding, he will think later, when the storm has passed. But now, he chooses to focus on the coronation taking place in front of him, and bask in their triumph.

“Kings reward loyalty.” Viserys says, after the crown is placed on his head by a proud Aemma. “And my first act will be rewarding those that stood by my side.”

Daemon and you are kneeling, the first among the crowd. The first to take a knee to their King. There is a strange feeling in his throat, and he fights the urge to cry. Daemon has always considered tears a weakness, but the moment is so perfect, so magical, he feels the urge to do so.

Men don’t cry. Instead, they take big breaths, and savor their victory. Viserys on the Iron Throne, and Daemon about to be given your hand. All they have ever wanted, now ripe for the taking.

“Brother, please rise.” Viserys' voice is clear and loud. Daemon does so, pleased by the honor of being the first to rise in front of the masses. They had talked about it, of putting up a show for their political enemies, but Daemon had never expected Viserys to grant him honors before any other of his advisors. “Your diplomatic and martial skills were essential to securing my claim. As a reward, I give to you our sister’s hand, and name you my heir. May the two of you have a fruitful union and make House Targaryen proud.”

And when he turns to you, with a smile on his face, he realizes why he remembered the story of Caraxes and Meraxes.

Your beautiful, purple eyes, are wet with tears. You remain on bent knee, frozen.

Daemon pulls you up with the utmost tenderness, one reserved for family alone. The hand on your elbow seems to shake you out of your stupor.

“Thank you, my King.” Your voice trembles, but you speak the words dutifully. You know as well as him that this is Viserys’ day. Everything has to go perfectly. There can’t be any hint of division between the three of you, not when the rallying cry for Viserys had been that he was bringing back the three heads of the dragon.

Three siblings. Three dragonriders. Aegon, Visenya, Rhaenys.

“It is a great honor.” Daemon adds, tightening his grip on your arm. You look ready to bolt, and he is tasked with reminding you that you can’t.

A silent tear travels down your cheek. With your back to the crowd, no one but Viserys and Daemon can see it. Viserys gives him a long look, pleading him to do something. Neither of them had been expecting your reaction.

They had thought you would settle well into your duty. That marriage would give you a stable tether, a shield for your fragile soul. Viserys had chosen Daemon for the honor, had given you to him to care and protect.

But you seem even more scared that you were before. How wrong had they been.

“We are very excited.” Daemon hugs you to him, fighting to keep his composure. Your rejection stings, and he wants to rage, but he can’t. Because you are in public, and House Targaryen doesn’t air their dirty laundry in front of witnesses, but more importantly because your dam is breaking. You let out a little sob, and Daemon has to embrace you fully to prevent you from falling apart.

Fools that they are, the rest of the courtiers mistake it for a sound of joy. What else could you want? To marry the King’s heir, a Valyrian husband who can give you pure Valyrian babes.

“Good.” Viserys smiles, a bit strained. You take a shuddery breath, and straighten up under his arm. Daemon can practically feel the change, from scared girl, to experienced courtier. You know as well as he does the importance of presenting a united front.

You smile. It’s as fake as the silks whores wear, when pretending to be a Targaryen Princess. To the inexperienced masses, it tears all the same.

“How joyful days come ahead. Long live the King!”

You open your arms, the picture of the hopeful bride. The smile threatens to crack your face in two. The crowd cheers. A royal wedding is always something to admire, and there is no better way of celebrating a coronation than with one.

The hour is late when Daemon finally manages to catch Viserys alone. You have gone straight to your rooms after the feast, sulking. Aemma has been sat outside your door for hours by now, trying to coax you out like one would do to a skittish cat. Her talks of duty and royal wombs only got her a pillow to the face for her efforts.

Daemon and Viserys, much more used to your moods, hadn’t bothered. You were angry, but not hysterical. Both often manifested in tears in your case. Only one could prove lethal.

“I do not understand.” Viserys frowns. “What more can she want? The two of you will get Dragonstone, for a few years at least, and when I have an heir, you will not be kicked out. You are family.”

“I do not understand it either.” Underneath the simmering rage Daemon feels, there is only confusion. He is a knight, and has proven his skills sufficiently enough to be awarded Dark Sister. He is of an equal standing to you, a Prince to a Princess. He loves you so deeply it scares him.

The Seven know he has tried to get you out of his head through every means possible. He has deflowered more maidens that he can count this week alone, his cock is chafed raw, and yet, no matter how beautiful they are, your face still haunts him. It’s your name on his lips when he comes, and your body he pictures under him. The whores are never right. Their hair is the wrong shade, they are too thin or too fat, their tears taste of iron instead of your sweet salt.

You should not think it is a bad thing. Women love that sort of thing, leading men by their cocks, getting them so cuntstruck they cannot see straight. You should love it too because it is a weakness to him, but a power you can wield. And yet, you hate it. You had run.

“I cannot go back on my word now.” Viserys reaches for his cup of wine. He knows that his reign is still fragile, and if his lords see his sister defying him, they might get ideas. “She has to marry someone, and with her delicate constitution, I cannot in good conscience…”

“Handing her to a stranger is a bad idea.” Daemon agrees, not out of some selfish motivation, but because he knows it’s the truth. You have always been far more delicate than most ladies, with your books and silly ideas about the role women should play. Had you not been so closely tied to Viserys, you may have even supported Rhaenys.

If Viserys was Aegon, you were Rhaenys. The sensitive little sister, loved because of her innocence and kindness. You never tried to push your strange ideas, after all. You just looked like a kicked puppy when contradicted.

Any other man would crush you at the first hint of defiance. Daemon, used to you as he was, knew rage was futile. If you wouldn’t settle in your duties easily, he had to take action and ensure you did through other means.

Gentler means. Daemon still remembered the fits you used to have when little. Viserys did too. Neither wanted a repetition.

“I have thought about it, and you should forgo the bedding.”

“I agree. It might make her sick.” Sick is the euphemism they use for your fits when there are prying ears. Daemon gives a pointed glance at the guards. Viserys drops the topic after that.

Almost against his will, when the embers of the fire they sit in front of die, Daemon goes to your rooms. He isn’t really thinking, when he walks down the hallways that lead to your chambers instead of his. Nor is he thinking when he dismisses your guards, and opens your door.

You are laying on your side, a pillow held to your thighs. Your hands are made into fists over them, as if you had fallen asleep in your rage still. Despite it, your face is peaceful, with only dried tear tracks to disturb your childish expression.

Your body is curled into itself, tightly. You must be cold, Daemon thinks, and takes of his cloak to lay it over your form.

In dreams, you smile. And Daemon understands that he is no Gaelithox. There was a reason Caraxes and Meraxes were only allowed to embrace once a day, after all.

HORROR AND RAGE are not emotions that lend itself to permanence. At least, not in you. Not when it comes to him.

Not when he plays such strange game, and gets you strange prizes. Daemon has not asked for his cloak back. You have taken to sleeping wrapped up underneath it.

How can a man capable of such cruelty be capable of such tenderness? Confusion means ignorance, and ignorance breeds fear. You have known Daemon all your life, but you are still unable to understand him.

The only certainty you have is that when he is near, your rationality flies out of the window. It’s all instinctual. To fight, to fuck, to fucking fight.

The sleep of reason produces monsters. Monsters that take hold of your heart and squeeze it, until it is no more than liquid and pulp. Did he hurt that woman? Will he hurt you? Love you?

Daemon had stolen your first kiss. Daemon had gotten kicked out of a brothel. There was a girl in the Street of Silk with a bite mark on her neck. He had visited you the night of your betrothal and tucked you in.

It might mean nothing. It might mean everything. Whichever it is, you have no time to come to terms with it. Viserys wishes for the two of you to be married by the end of this moon. It makes you feel even more blindsided and betrayed.

None of them had thought to ask you before deciding. They had just done so.

The idea of marrying your brother wasn’t what came as a great shock. As a child, you had often daydreamed of honoring your ancestors and becoming your brother’s wife. It was the way things should be. But you had always thought you would marry Viserys.

When Viserys married Aemma, you thought you would marry someone outside your household. Daemon and you were clearly ill-suited, even before everything that had happened between the two of you.

Betrothing the two of you would be madness. You had never understood each other in the manner Viserys and him did. You were an outsider to their relationship, the other head of the dragon. Rhaenys to her conquerors.

But inexplicably, Viserys had done so. Being betrothed to him without even being asked about it stung. No one had thought to warn you, or ask for your opinion. They had simply announced it to court and hoped you would comply.

The feeling of betrayal had only mellowed out after asking Viserys his reasoning. He hadn’t been trying to blindside you, he had explained. He had thought you would be happy. Both Daemon and you yearned for Valyrian partners. It made sense to betroth the two of you, especially because Daemon had asked to marry soon.

Your brothers were just dumb. But their foolishness was a dangerous one, since they rode the two biggest dragons of your generation and sat on the Iron Throne. Common fools could undo the damage they caused.

But in your case, there was no way out but through. Viserys had begged you to give Daemon a chance, and so, you found yourself preparing for meeting him.

Viserys had chosen the place the two of you would meet. The Godswood was neutral territory, and far away from the castle that if you started shouting insults at each other, only the Kingsguard shadowing you would hear.

It only made you dread the encounter further. You had taken a liking to the Godswood, and were contemplating using it as a hideaway for when things at court got to be too much. If this went wrong, it would forever taint the place for you.

You decide to arrive early, to allow yourself some time to compose yourself. Daemon beats you to it, already waiting near a tree when you get there.

“Hāedus,” Daemon says, when he sees you. In a show of rebellion, you have decided to wear your more modest gown, with a neckline that nearly reaches your ears. Aemma had encouraged you to wear something more revealing, but you wanted to strangle the cow. “You look lovely.”

“Lēkia.” You press a kiss to his cheek, unsure if you should greet him like you always do, or the betrothal has changed the protocol. Kissing his cheek as you always do seems safer, but you regret it when his eyes flutter closed at your touch.

He is acting odder than usual. In an increasingly out-of-character charm offensive, he takes off his cloak and places it on the grass.

“So you may sit.” His tone is too formal. It makes you even more wary, but you sit. Daemon does the same, by your side. So close, you end up frowning more.

He leans in. His lips brush the shell of your ear.

“Despite my struggles, I have come to admire you.” Daemon noses along the hair right above your ear. “Rationality has left me, and no matter how hard I try, you haunt me at every corner, every hallway, every street of this damned city.”

“What am I supposed to say?” You complain, with a frown. You push him a little, to be able to meet his eyes.“I am well aware of your attempts at forgetting. Valyrian whores, Daemon? Really?”

“It was all in vain.” He pulls you back in, embracing you. His hands are warm around your stomach, his lips chafed against the skin of your neck. “Let me take down your hair.”

Your eyebrows raise. Out of all things he can ask for, this is the weirdest one. His petition is so simple and innocent, you almost think he is not Daemon.

“Let me take down your hair.” Daemon begs. The ardent tone in his voices surprises you. He sounds like a man possessed. As if he cannot survive if you deny him. “Hāedus...”

This devotion, this unexpected fit of love, surprises you. So much, you find yourself nodding.

You feel his chest contract with his sudden inhale. His hands are careful as they unmake your braid. His touch so tender, even the most delicate hairdresser would envy it. But when your hair falls down your back, in mussed tendrils, he shows himself to be Daemon.

His nose presses to your temple, breathing you in. His fingers run through your hair, and he presses feverish kisses to your scalp, your jaw, your ear. Licks the sweat behind it, samples your earlobe with his teeth.

Teeth. It makes you tense. You think of the girl in Flea Bottom, of the bite over her throat.

“I can’t stop thinking of you. You appear before me in the darkest corners, and in the brightest meadows.” Daemon inhales, hands grasping your waist tightly. “When I squired, away from home, I couldn’t get you out of my head. I didn’t know it was love then, but I have loved you since before I knew what the word meant. I fucked the tightest cunts of Westeros, sampled the prettiest maidens, and yet it is your face that I imagine when tugging at my cock.”

Something inside you snaps. Among the righteous indignation, a strange satisfaction takes place. You shove him off you.

“Don’t be crass!”

Daemon doesn’t attempt to embrace you again, but remains unbearably close. Your eyes drift to his lips. You would love him even if he were the one who mauled the whore. You would love him even if he did it to you. Because of it, perhaps.

“I want you to be mine. Put me out of my misery.” Daemon begs, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Marry me, and end my suffering.”

“You frighten me.” You whisper, without quite meaning to.

“Do you fear I will hurt you?” Daemon asks you, voice very gentle.

You avert your eyes. It’s not that what you fear. It’s how out of control you are when it comes to him.

“I would never.” He vows, leaning in. His lips brush against yours, before Daemon presses his forehead to yours. He looks into your eyes, and smiles. “Do you remember the last time we kissed?”

“Of course I do, you idiot.” You scowl at the memory. “You stole…”

“No. You were crying because no knight…” He gets up, and begins to tug you to your feet. You remain sitting. “Oh, get up, you stubborn thing.”

“Daemon!” You complain, but get up. He stands a few feet away from you. Curious about the point he intends to make, you cross your arms over your chest and glare.

He offers you his hand, as if to dance. You take it, eyes full of distrust.

“I have been a cunt. But you have to stop running.” Daemon circles you, pulling on your hand slightly. Is he…? Your confusion must show on your face because he gives you a mocking glance. “To dance from afar is not to dance.”

“What do you mean?”

“You might as well be in Essos.” Daemon keeps circling you. “Let us dance properly, for once.”

“Here? Dance?” There is no music. And your brother has never been one for bursting into spontaneous song and dance. At least, you don’t think so.

“Together. You wanted knights to ask you to.” Daemon pulls you close, into a hug, and the puzzle pieces finally fit. The day he had kissed you, you had been crying because no one had asked you to dance. That Daemon remembers the reason when you had nearly forgotten it yourself astonishes you. “Now a Prince asks you. Do not make me ask twice, please.”

“Let us try. To dance as if glued by fire. Let me prove I can be good to you. That I listen to you. ”

And it’s stupid. It’s silly, there is not even music. But you let him pull you in, this time, and realize Daemon has always been capable of tenderness. At least, when it comes to you.

[bitter-me]

Coffee

Young Ranpo Edogawa | M. Reader

----------

"Your smell like coffee!"

----------

Coffee isn't Ranpo's thing.

They're bitter, sure the barista adds some milk and syrup in them but they're still bitter! Which is why he likes hot chocolate better. Unlike the bitter concoction hot chocolate is sweet and nice and warm, especially if you add marshmallows! Some may say that it's too sweet but not for Ranpo. It's just the right amount of sweetness.

And that leads to his confusion as to why his friend likes coffee.

Ranpo once saw [Name] drunk at least 5 cups to finish his school assignments. Like huh? Maybe it's a thing students have to deal with? I mean -- he's technically not a student so maybe that's why it confuses him to his wits end? Regardless the reason behind that habit Ranpo's not one to judge. After all, [Name] was the first ever person that understands him and doesn't shut him down like those adults were.

In fact, [Name] seemed rather fascinated by Ranpo's deductions and how he managed to know everything in seconds.

[Name] was the first person to do that... his first... friend...

So Ranpo's not going to judge him for something as petty as that.

The day Fukuzawa took him in, even though he won't say it out loud he was happy and grateful for it. And [Name] can't be any more happier to found out how Ranpo's life seemed to have a turn for the better. Even if Ranpo doesn't admit it [Name] had always knew about his struggles, his anxiety, his fears, everything. Which why he was beyond happy to found out about it.

Unlike Ranpo who seems to be very gifted in deductions and all.

[Name] is just an average straight A's high school student.

Ranpo has his life planned out before him, a path already build just for him, a path of being a promising detective. "The greatest detective" he'd put it. While [Name] have to find his own path.

Unknowing to all...

This set's him off the rails.

What is he supposed to do? What does he need? What does he want? People say to get a job that you like, that you enjoy. But what about money? Don't you need that to survive? But what if the job ended up being too hard and he'll not like it? What if it's boring? What if it's dull?

But then again what was the point? We all die anyways right? So what was the point in getting a stable and enjoyable job, and a happy life where we all just die in the end?

What if's and questions filled his head, day in day out.

He's not ready.... He needs more time...

But time won't wait for him.. or anyone in that manner...

.

.

Coffee is nice... It keeps your adrenaline high, give you a boost. [Name] couldn't help but enjoy it. That sudden boost of energy makes him more focus on his school work rather than his thoughts. Not to mention that they have quite a nice and pleasant smell the taste is also nice. Because of that [Name] would smell like coffee a scent Ranpo had grown to love, despite saying that coffee isn't his thing.

As time goes on, Ranpo began to be occupied with cases, while [Name] is busy with school. The two barely have time for each other as they used to. But they don't mind as it would just lead to them having a lot more to talk about once they meet again. It was nice... very nice... the warm and pleasant atmosphere...

"Hey Ranpo, since you're practically a detective now. Do you see a lot of bodies."

"Of course I do."

"So seeing one won't scare you? The scent of their blood and the sight of their dead, pale, and possibly disfigured form?"

"Of course not! What kind of detective get's scared of a corpse!"

[Name] chuckles at Ranpo's words, finding the small outburst to be entertaining in some way.

It was a rhetorical question...

It was a rhetorical question, right [Name]..?

Although he doesn't say it, Ranpo felt uneasy at the question. Why is [Name] suddenly asking about that? It felt random. Out of place. Completely out of the blue. It's common to asked that to a new detective, right? But why was it so specific? It probably didn't mean anything, right? But even so... Ranpo can't shake off the feeling that there's a hidden meaning to his friend's words... like a shadow..

As the days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months and the months turn into years...

[Name]'s graduation day is growing closer and closer.

Ranpo can't be any happier for his friend, a friend he had grown to love... was finally going to graduate high school! He even requested a few days off for this special occasion! Not that he really need to as he could just walk off like usual. But still!!

As happy as he is, Ranpo can't help but have a gut feeling that something is wrong...

He can't explain it but... It's just felt wrong...

Like a dark cloud is hovering above him... dark shadow...

And....

......He's right as always....

The day before the graduation.

Ranpo received a case, which he had refused since he did requested a few days off for his friend's special occasion, but Fukuzawa insisted that he take it. Almost begging.

With no other choice, Ranpo accepts it.

But what he saw in the crime scene was one out of his nightmares.

He didn't even need to open the sheet that covered the body as his had already knew who it is.

The keychain attached to the book bag speaks for itself.

A keychain that belongs to someone dear to him... someone close... someone he had grown to love and adore... someone he was planning to spill his heart out to... someone he was hoping he could call his...

And the results of his deductions didn't help at all. It just made things worse as it revealed to him how much the victim was suffering. A pain that the victim didn't show until their last moments. A pain that Ranpo was too ignorant to notice. A pain where the victim decided that it was too much for them and wanted it to end.

"Why..?"

.

.

The next day... Ranpo graduated from a school he didn't even attend...

He did it in someone's stead.

.

.

Ranpo doesn't like coffee.

No....

He hates it.

[rosegoldenatlas]

Fuck you *analyzes Stan and Ford even though everyone has done it at this point*

Friendly reminder that Stan is literally a traumatized genius. Like yeah Ford may have been good at science in school and did some nice notes on weird shit he saw but to build his portal he needed to get tricked by a demon whom he knew was super dangerous.

Meanwhile Stan taught himself how to build it ALONE in just 30 years when before he barley got by in school and he only saw A THIRD of the blueprints throughout most of building it. Stan was kicked out of his house due to an actual accident and due to that has some clear issues that lead him to a life of scams and crimes because he wanted to prove that he wasn't a failure. He went to jail in 3 countries and has successfully conned SO MANY PEOPLE. He ran a successful business of only fakes and cons for 30 years, hasn't paid taxes in who knows when maybe he never has paid taxes. He literally had EVERY ONE OF HIS CRIMES LISTED ON PUBLIC TELEVISION AND STILL GOT AWAY WITH IT. Also he is ballsy as shit. Like this man hasn't feared death in decades I'm pretty sure. Even though he has clear issues he still is able to be a good person (not legally but yk what I mean). He had been betrayed by Ford and his life was ruined since highschool due to that and his first instinct after hearing Ford call for help (just like he did when he was younger and being kicked out) is not to pull the curtains and look away but to go all the way Oregon and ask what he needed help with, saying that he will understand what's going on, offering support- and then is tossed aside AGAIN. He finds out that even though he made that mistake years an years ago Ford has been relatively well off and has a house and the money to build this giant machine. While Fords taking a blind eye to Stan getting kicked out ruined his entire life and shoved him directly into a life of crime without much of a choice.

Of Course he bitter. He was betrayed twice! So he gets into a fight and gets angry and makes his second mistake, pushing Ford. He didn't mean to do it. He didn't know how it worked but it happened. So he immediately tries to fix his mistake. This time he has to do it right. So he teaches himself Advanced science only learnt by one person from an inter dimensional chaos demon well enough to build the machine using a third of the blueprints and sheer force of will.

When he finally gets Ford back after 30 years he's expecting a thank you and being allowed to keep the shack that he's had longer than Ford at this point. Instead he gets a punch to the face and is being told off. Being told off by doing exactly as he was told 'just do something!' Ford had said before. And now he was being told that he shouldn't have? After 30 years of work? Yeah I'd be pissed too. But Stan holds it together for the twins.

When weirdmageddon happens he has one request, say thank you. He doesn't even care if its an actual thank you any more. He just asks for it and starts the ritual. He's angry and upset and he's always being cast aside as the dumb sibling and he thought he was away from that but Ford ruined it and Dipper was definitely thinking that Stan was the dumb one. But Stan mumbles on last comment and still does the ritual. And then- grammar Stanley. Its like spitting in has face and saying 'even after all of this, your still the dumb one, still the screw up. Can't even keep up with basic grammar and always angry always the dumb, strong one'. But now he's not even stronger because of Fords alien space dimension hopping trip. Now he's just the dumb one who cheats his way through life because he can't do anything the right way. Its a punch to the gut that after all he had done he got a half assed 'thank you Stanley' and then told in fewer, more simple words 'you're still the screw up of the family'. Yeah not the best time to be pissed but I completely agree with Stan when he lashes out and attacks Ford.

Then even after all of that he still says that he wishes Bill would go in his head instead. He says that he agrees that he's got nothing up there. And Ford doesn't disagree. He didn't comfort him. He just goes 'oh yeah but he doesn't want your stupid thoughts he wants mine'. And I don't care what anyone says, it was Stans idea to swap clothes with Ford. Stan is the con guy. He get his memory wiped.

In the last few minutes while everyone is getting their endings, Ford says that he wants to make the Stan o' War 2 and go off and sail. Its not exactly what Stan wants, he wasn't treasure hunting, of course he does. But anomaly hunting is all he knows he can get at this point. So he goes. He never gets told the things he needs to be told like 'you're not a screw up' or 'you're not stupid Stanley' he gets one thing. He gets 'you're our hero Stanley'. Which wow. Stanley gets to be the one thing he never got. He didn't have anyone backing him. He had Soos eventually, but Soos was always like a kid to him (hell yeah Stan adopt Soos I think its such a cool idea please). Dipper and Mabel technically have his back but they are literal children who do not need to hear their grunkles trauma more than they already have. Its always just been Stan watching out for all of them as best he can. He has Ford at the very end on the boat. But he still has a lot of issues to sort through.

While Ford, we don't have much on Ford. He isn't in the series a bunch and I haven't been able to get my hands on the book of bill yet, even then I don't know how much new stuff we learn about Ford other than the confirmation of his indistinct and ambiguous relationship with Bill. (I was right they so fucked). But I will try as hard as I can to sympathise with Fords side of things (I was one a fan of Ford before I started digging into Stans lore more).

-

In Fords perspective, Stan intentionally ruined his project to keep him in Jersey to finish their boat and treasure hunt. He doesn't believe Stan when he says that it was an accident because it matches up too well. Stan gets kicked out that night, Stan asks for Ford to help, but Stan had always been the stronger one. He would be fine. So he pulls the curtain closed. He goes to a different college than what he wanted to but still earns his degrees and even is able to get his hands on grants that most scientists would kill for. Its enough to build a house and keep him fed and well off for YEARS without a second job and even after all of that he still has enough for his gadgets (not to mention his giant underground lab that must've cost a fortune to build). He makes a friend and they work together trying to learn more about the anomalies. He hits a wall.

He can't find out any more that he already knows. So he summons a demon that he knows is OP as Fuck and can kill him. But the triangle called him smart and is telling him new things. So he listens. He doesn't question what he's building a portal to. He just makes it. Only when his friend gets irreversibly traumatized by what lies on the other side he begins to question, but its too late- he already fucked the triangle and the portal is finished. So he shuts it down and begs for help from the only person he knows would help- Stan. Sure they didn't part on good terms but Stan had always looked out for him.

When Stan arrives he's paranoid, Bill could be anywhere. Bill wants to be on earth. Bill will destroy everything. He shows Stan the portal and hands him the last of his journals he needs to hide. He tells him to sail far away, to keep him and his research safe. Stan is angry with him. Still? After all these years? He hardly remembers that part of the night. He remembered the morning more for obvious reasons. Stan is yelling at him, and for what? That was years ago and the fate of the world is much more important that a family spat.

Stanley takes out a lighter and pulls it to his journal. All of his research could be gone in an instant. Years of work all in a blaze. What if something happened and he needed that information? What then? So they fight and Stanley gets hurt by the hot brand on the side of the metal work table. All of his anger drains in an instant. He didn't mean to hurt Stan. He just- he didn't want all he had left to be destroyed and got angry (parallels, huh). Stan hits him. He's floating. He's going to- he going to go through the portal. He panics and throws the book back mid air 'Stanley do something'. And he goes through.

He spends years in space. We aren't told how it goes explicitly but he gets better at fighting, a lot better so we can assume there was a lot of that. But he remains the same person if a little tougher, there are no major scars or personality changes. So we can assume he is relatively (I use this very loosely) unscarred by this time.

When he's brought back he's still scared, if that's what is on the other side of the portal, what could happen of that came to earth? Stanley took a huge risk. He risked everything for what? Him to come back? That isn't worth it. Stan doesn't understand the risk he took opening that portal on purpose. He fights, he shuts down the portal, he disassembles the portal and catches the rift. Every precaution is taken. Stan doesn't understand what is happening, he doesn't understand the danger they're all in. And he wants to be thanked for it? For putting everyone at risk? Why the hell would he do that.

During weirdmageddon he prepares the circle, everyone is compliant but Stanley. Stanley is being childish. Asking for a thank you of all thing while the world is ending. But he swallows his pride, he is right but that doesn't matter now, not when the world is at stake. 'Fine, Thank you,' he mumbles and they grab hands. He hears Stanley spit out a 'see, between him and me I'm not always the bad twin.' And he had already lost so much today, he falls into an old habit 'between me and him, grammar Stanley.' Then there are hand on his throat, Stanley is shouting at him. He's ruining everything. This was childish! It was one comment! Can he not act like an adult for once in his life?

Bill arrives, their locked up, and Stanley crumples. Blaming himself. Ford says down next to him. He was the idiot who made a deal with Bill in the first place. Its not all Stanley's fault. They pass a flask between them. They toss around last second ideas. None of it would work. And then 'what I he went into my mind, its not good for anything' he laughs, it would never work. 'Its not your mind he wants' he sees something flicker in Stans eyes. An he suggests something, a new scam, a new way to cheat the system. Might as well try it.

It works. He had to erase stans mind but it works. After everything. After all of it. Stan is a hero and he doesn't even know it. They walk back to the trashed shack with tears in their eyes. Mabel is desperately trying everything she can, Dipper is dead silent, Soos is on the verge of a breakdown. He just feels resigned, he's lost a friend to the memory gun before and he's lost Stan before. Maybe he can get through this too.

Stan remembers. Stan remembers and he's back to how it was before, Ford is looking now, he sees the way Stan is clearly posturing for the kids, for everyone really. How had he not noticed before? The way Stanley was speaking and acting, it was kind of like their dad. Tough and stern and impossible to impress. But Stan was that at a level that wasn't suffocating. He was so different from the Stan from their highschool days, and he hadn't even noticed the change until now. It was disturbing how much was different from before that he hadn't even seen because of being in his lab. It felt weird not knowing this Stan. So he made up something on the fly, anomalies in the ocean he said, the Stan o' war version two he offered. The disbelief in Sans voice when he asked if he was actually asking this was saddening.

---+---

Anyways, my real reason for preferring Stan over Ford is this: Stan had a more fleshed out character, he had arcs and he didn't even need a redemption arc. We just needed to know more to see why he was acting the way he did. He isn't a bad person. He's just a person. Yeah he breaks the law but he is a kind guy. He has so many layers and he's much much more that was originally let on. While Ford was shown much less on screen, from what I did see I could tell that he thought he was better than Stan. He puts him down constantly and can't bother to build relationships by reaching out first. Dipper was friends with Ford because Dipper had to reach out again and again. Stan tried reaching out the olive branch to Ford but when it didn't work and he was 'betrayed' twice and insulted a lot. Ford didn't even try to fix this when it is clearly his responsibility to do so. If we had more time after the series showing character growth over time from Ford I might think different but alas.

[lexisecretaccx]

High School Sweethearts pt.3 -Chris Sturniolo

PT1, PT2, PT4, PT5, PT6, PT7, PT8, PT9, PT10, (rest of the parts on my Masterlist)

(Fem reader x Chris sturniolo, slight angst, Tw: Evan💀, not sure what else.)

A/n: thought I’d TW Evan bc he’s an asshole😂, you will know that even more as the story progresses:( also sorry if my parts are pretty short, let me know if y’all would be happy with longer parts! But 2 parts in a day is wilding lol.

“What.. why?” I laugh awkwardly and envy crosses over his face. “It doesn’t matter y/n.” He turns down a corridor and I follow. “I don’t understand why you’re being like this?” I say timidly, I don’t know what I had done to make him act like this, we literally became friends yesterday.

He stops in his tracks to face me. I smile softly but it slips when I notice the angry glare in his eyes, “don’t act like you weren’t all over my brother in there!” He spoke with a bitterness in his voice, my face shifts to that of shock due to the accusation, “What? I went to study and he was in there so I sat with him,” Chris scoffs and leans against the wall, “I wanted to know if he was okay after falling over, is that a crime now?” I snap.

The problem with me is when I get angry I cry or get upset. Or if I’m getting shouted at, it’s due to past experiences. “Okay then,” he pushes himself off the wall and looks down at me “so his arm being around you is just in a nice way, you two laughing is you ‘checking up on him’ is it?” He hisses and leans down to my level.

“He was pointing at my page because he told me the answer and we were laughing because it was the wrong answer,” I speak in a brittle voice, “I don’t know why I have to explain myself to you we aren’t dating.” I take a deep breath in to try and keep myself from crying, “I don’t like him like that chris.” I whisper as my eyes well with tears before walking away.

“Wait..” he sighs and I turn around, a single tear falling from my eye. “I’m sorry.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “it’s just, I can’t help but get angry because my ex girlfriend cheated on me and,” he walks over to me “I know we aren’t dating but..” Footsteps echoed from behind us and we both turn to see Nick, Nate, Evan and the other boy who I don’t know.

My stomach drops as I lock eyes with Evan. “No fucking way.” He spoke before trying to walk closer to me, I step back and he stops in his tracks, “still as frigid as usual I take it.” He laughs and looks around for his friend’s reactions but they don’t do anything, instead they are focused on me and Chris.

“What’s going on here?” Nate motions between me and Chris, “wait you dated my boy Evan right?” Nate asks, his attention fully on me as I nod softly. “Step back.” Chris mutters to Evan, who was getting a bit too close. Evan raises his palms and he smirks at me.

“You tryna get with Evans girl?” The other boy who I don’t know the name of spoke. “No we’re just friends.” Chris fake smiles before it falters, “then why the fuck does she look sad?” Evan spoke in a concerned tone, which of course wasn’t real.

“Can you not get into other people’s business.. for once?” I say, Evan tilts his head to me and opens his mouth slightly as his eyes narrow, he goes to say something before.. “Leave it.” Nick spoke in a tough voice to Evan and Evan just scoffs and walks away.

I can’t help but feel a sense of victory even though I didn’t say much. The other boy follows Evan so it’s just me, Chris, Nick and Nate. “So.. what’s going on here.” Nate repeats himself. “She was studying in the library and I went in there and saw her and now we’re out here, that’s all.” Chris looks back at me and smiles before returning his gaze to the boys.

“Sure whatever, where’s Matt?” Nick asks, looking at me this time. “I saw him in the library so probably still in there.” I shrug. “Okay, nice to meet you.” Nick smiles at me and walks to the library. “We have like half hour till school starts, we should go back outside.�� Nate speaks to Chris, completely ignoring my presence.

“I’d rather not, you can go meet Evan again I think I’m gonna help y/n.” Chris replied “help her with what?” Nate looks to me and back at Chris. “It’s a personal thing for her.” Chris lies. “Sure okay.” Nate rolls his eyes before heading down the hallway the same way Evan went.

“I’m sorry about them, and Evan.” Chris turns to me and runs his hand through his hair. “And I’m sorry for earlier and overreacting, and making you cry and speaking to you in that way. I know we aren’t dating but I shouldn’t have reacted like that, even if you and Matt were..” I interrupted him by placing a finger over his lips, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek softly.

“Woah.” He looks at me for a moment before saying, “so there’s definitely nothing going on with you and Matt then or?” I roll my eyes and laugh. “No of course not.” He lets out a sigh of relief, “what about us?” He asks hopefully, “we barely know eachother Chris,” I move a strand of hair out of my face “maybe take me on a date or something and see what happens.” I smirk up at him.

His eyes widen and he smiles back, “really?” He whispers as a group of people walk past. I nod and look at the clock. “I’m gonna head to my next class but I’ll see you somewhere.”

“Maybe in detention again.” Chris teased. I roll my eyes and laugh before I walk away, and I feel Chris’ eyes following me. I turn down a less crowded corridor.

“Hey..” I hear someone speak from next to me, I flinch and turn to my side as my face turns cold.

A/n: Bro Chris is a drama queen. I don’t know if this is any good but thanku to the people supporting this series! That’s the only reason I’m continuing with this🫶 also Chris is a cutie patootie, he’s been thru some breakups y’all don’t hate him😭

Taglist: @blahbel668 @mattsleftnipple03 @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hysteria-things @sturniologurl4l2008 @jakevwebber @braindead4l @mattybearnard @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @cind2224 @annelouise321 (I’m so sorry both of y’all idk why it won’t let me tag u☹️) @sturniolosmind

—💋——📷——‼️——💌———❤️———💌——‼️——📷——💋—

[oletus-writer]

Can you make a 'Jealous of their mini version' with Jack, h!Melly and fools gold? (if they had one) will be so glad to read them :)

Of course!! I’ve been busy being consumed by Baldur’s Gate III so this is late by a long shot.

Jack, Hunter Melly, Hunter Norton being jealous of their mini pet version

Warnings: slight jealousy

Jack

He’s amused, to say the least. You can’t get enough of him, so much so that you’ve decided to purchase a little version of him to follow you around when he’s not there. Unlike others, he won’t be too jealous, and is willing to pamper it alongside you, treating it like a child.

‘Oh my sweet robin, it looks like you’ve been missing me. Well, don’t you worry; there’s enough of me to go around. This little darling can’t be much of a replacement, hm?’

Of course, if he finds you spending more time with little Jack than with him, jealousy settles in. He’ll court you, all gentlemanly and saccharine. Expect flowers, poems, being treated better in matches, and maybe even a painting. Holding the door open for you, kissing your hand… you get the picture.

‘You did so well in that match… Sure, I wasn’t there, but I’m certain you did well, dove. Would you like to enjoy this wine with me as celebration? If not, may I interest you in some of my cooking?’ (You’ll have to supervise his cooking, though)

There isn’t much pettiness, as he understands why you’d buy a mini Jack, and that it’s more available to you than him, being a hunter and all. He does have a photo of you that he carries with him at all times, after all, but he might get jealous over the fact you actively spend time with mini Jack than him. Sure, it’s a pet you need to take care of, but he’d prefer it if you invite him over a bit more frequently.

Hunter Melly

She’s a bit more possessive of you than her survivor counterpart, and is a bit ruthless. She doesn’t mind locking away little Melly so she could have the entire day alone with you, nor does she mind resorting to threatening the little pet. However, she’s not a total savage, and is willing to raise it like a child.

‘Honey, as much as I enjoy your company evermore when we’re alone, perhaps this little pet you have isn’t so bad. We should give it a proper name, not just Little Melly.’

Bitter jealousy still settles in her ribcage like acid reflux, though, and she’ll find any excuse to get you to have greenhouse dates, as the mini pet would get lost, it’s little legs and short perspective unable to find its parents in the maze. She’ll pick flowers and tell you their meanings all the while ignoring that nagging sense of guilt.

However, she finds that little Melly has its uses, such as observing small details on her insects, and finding new species within the greenhouse. She’ll treat the pet a bit better, and there are some times when you find her giving all her attention to it.

‘This little sweetheart has done wonders to my research. It was a good choice to purchase it. You have my gratitude.’

Hunter Norton

He understands that you’re not all his, and that he should be nice and respectful of his lover, but he just has the instinct to hold things dear to him so tightly that his ribcage wraps around them. There’s an ill feeling in his throat and he can’t swallow and his rock fingers twist knobs into the table.

‘What’s going on, darling? Oh… that little thing. I see. Suppose I should leave you to it, then, since it’s obviously better company that me.’

Unlike the other two, he’s never going to accept the mini him into his life. He hates children, and having another mouth to feed is quite the annoyance.

‘When are you gonna throw that thing aside? It’s just a toy, right? Come to your rightful place in my arms.’

He simply doesn’t understand why you’d rather the substitute than the real thing. After all, as much as he doesn’t want to admit, you could always seek out survivor Norton.

[dmercer91]

Can you do nsfw and sfw head canons for Ethan Edward and mark estapa? ( btw love you account I’ve been stalking it for the last hour😂💕)

misc. headcanons, ee73

i used this one for eddy! another is coming for mark asap <3 (and thank you!)

meeting at the coffee shop you work at and he was originally planning on getting his regular but when he saw you he buffered

“what’s your go to? i was thinking of trying something new,”

you ask wether he likes cold or hot drinks, sweet or bitter, if there’s anything he definitely would not drink and he thinks your little lineup of questions is so sweet

you’re clearly a little nervous that he won’t like it once you ring it up and you pick at your nails when he first tries it

“you’ve got good taste… y/n,” he nods to your name tag

maybe the person taking you off comes up and tells you you’re good to go home and ethan takes the risk and orders another drink

“come sit with me?”

you talk for so long and when you laugh he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven

you exchange numbers and over the course of the semester, the relationship grows and you guys start dating

he’s so sweet

he buys you flowers and little trinkets he sees that he thinks you’ll like

he wants you at every possible home game, tucked in the corner by the glass where he can see you for good luck

you guys have after school naps at soph house - mark is sick of you guys being all cute and lovey

he lays on his back and you’re always tucked into his side with his arm around you

playing with his hair is your favourite thing

there’ll be times where that’s all you do for hours, just lay in his arms and twist his hair around your fingers while you talk about nothing important

he loves !! sweet nothings

his love language is probably quality time or touch but words of affirmation is definitely up there

“so pretty. my girl,” “you’re perfect, angel,”

sometimes after work you just need to sit in his arms and let him trace shapes on your shoulders and back in silence

customer service is draining and he does well with understanding that

if you’re overstimulated or tired he’s so good with boundaries and not making you more irritable

sexually, he can be a lot of different things depending on what you’re in the mood for

he loves it when you ride him but he’s perfectly happy putting in the work

he’s an ass/thigh man and i will be taking no criticism on that

kissing your thighs? heaven

leaving love bites on your thighs? he might as well have passed away from bliss

being between your thighs? having them squeeze his head? he thinks there’s no better place to be at any point in time

you riding his thigh, and he gets to sit back and tense his leg to tease you? he’d take that over actual american dollars

he is in college, and he’s used to hookups and therefore inexperienced with his mouth

however, after some trial and error, and him learning how to read your reactions to things, he’s so good

in the first bit of your relationship all he wants to do is practice

“i wanna be able to make you feel good,” while he’s literally got his nose buried into your clit for the third consecutive day

when he finally gets the reaction he’s been working towards - unbridled moans and mumbled of his name while you squirm and squeeze his head with your thighs

he lets up for one whole day before he’s kissing down your body again cause ‘he misses how pretty you taste’

he wants to try new things and get good at them all the time which is truly a blessing cause you won’t spare his feeling and say you came and he will get you there

sometimes on rougher nights he just moves you around at his will

for a college guy he’s well built and it’s both nice to look at and convenient

he likes it when you scratch at him

if he’s not getting absolutely flamed in the dressing room for being full of nail marks then he’s doing something wrong

you always feel bad when you see them and he’s like are you kidding?? i made you feel that good. this is my medal

he likes to guide your head when you’re going down on him

he’ll bury his hand in your hair or wrap it around his fist and slowly move you up and down on him

he’s not vocal in the beginning of your relationship, until you ask if it doesn’t feel good and he realizes you like him vocal

now he’s so used to letting it all out that being quiet is his least favourite thing on the entire planet

aftercare consists of a shower or bath with tons and tons of cuddling, forehead kisses and sweet praises

in conclusion; eddy 🤭

[h0ney-mochi]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request Scara and how he’d react or help reader on their period? This can be headcannons or a small little one shot . Feel free to be creative with it :)

Scaramouche x afab!reader ;; no pronouns mentioned

SFW CONTENT (fem!reader / afab!reader, reader is on their period, Scara is a little confused)

Summary: Hc's/scenario of when Scaramouche finds out you're on your period. Well. You explained it to him.

A/n: sorry for the wait nonnie!! But thank you for being patient ahhhhhh... Thank you for this <33 periods suck ass, good luck to those who r on it !!!! Yeesh... starting to get back into writing, hi 🫶

In my opinion, this guy is most definitely confused at first. But once Scaramouche's got some of his questions answered, he's rather caring. As long as you don't plan on dying on him.

He's confused when he first sees the sight of you curled up, hands on your stomach. Probably asks you what you're trying to do, what's wrong with you until a few sudden thoughts occur.

You're in pain. . . ? You're in pain.

Then he's next to you in an instant, eyes darting all over you. He's asking you what's wrong again, what happened, are you dying??

He's worried, definitely. There's bits of annoyance, frustration too since, well.. for the love of the Archons, don't leave him right now.

But after maybe a few seconds, when you think you're well enough to finally respond, you speak to him. Scaramouche listens, some relief that you're.. fine..? Wait-

"..You're telling me you're bleeding— every month?"

He is still rather confused on that and so he tries to understand. Most of it. So you explain some things, cracking some jokes that the Gods must hate you if they're giving you cramps (which he does not find amusing)

You think you're done with the explanation, slightly apologizing for.. scaring him? Worrying him? And say you'll go to the bathroom for the obvious reasons.

He's still wrapping his mind around it. Decides to do more research on that, because he hates the sight of you clutching your stomach in pain.

Next day he's with you, demands you to tell him what you want. You're confused, because, well.. he can't make your period dissapear magically— so you just shrug, speaking with a nervous smile "A heating pad would be nice..? Chocolate..?"

Of course you'd say something like that. After all, he did use an hour or more of his time to figure out ways to help you. Later that day you're met with sweets that you desired (he didn't go after them, of course not. God forbid him buying sweets for you.. *buys the sweets*)

Would make tea for you. Either bitter how he likes it (if he knows you don't mind the taste) or sweet, if that's more to your liking. Despite not being keen on sugary, sweet things, he'll get it for you. If it helps.

He'll try to be nicer, since now he knows that when you're at that time of the month, you're a little different, sometimes more emotional. Doesn't entirely mean he'll drop his attitude or sassy remarks. You'll just hear a little less of them.

Probably finds out first if you've ran out of pads or tampons. You go to bed, making a mental note to go to the store tomorrow, yet when you wake up and go to the cabinet, you see the packages you needed to buy..

He doesn't admit he bought them for you. Probably says that you're forgetful, since you did say you're a little different on your period.

Scara hates seeing you like this. When you're having cramps, when you're in pain. So he hopes this will end soon.

I mean.. he's not alone since you're hoping the same!

Thank you for the order, hope it suits your taste, dear ♡

© h0ney-mochi 2023 / Please don't copy or repost my work and writings! <3

[syrma-sensei]

Somewhere In Your Heart, Ch.6: The New Famous Couple.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!reader.

Rating: Explicit.

Setting: In the early 1980s.

Warnings: smut, angst, power imbalance, misogyny, typical period attitudes.

Word Count: 3.6k.

Summary: Soldier boy lives through the ennui of his peak, but everything is about to change when he has a shift in his heart.

“Soldier Boy seems to be infatuated with you, young lady.”

That's what Stan Edgar, one of Vought's associates, tells you after you've been offered a cup of coffee by his assistant. He has you summoned after the incident with Jack days ago. He dismisses the assistant with a lenient manner. The simple act impresses you; a man in power who's nice to his employees.

You're still digesting the fact Jack was kicked out of company like a dog. You've always thought Jack is invincible. You thought he was untouchable. But here we are, they threw him out like trash. Which means, he apparently isn't. He doesn't have control over you anymore. You're another man's property now. Your body shivers at the memory of Ben telling you so.

You take a sip, casting your eyes down. For some reason, the man behind the desk is intimidating you, more than Ben does. You can fathom there's deceit behind his mask of sagacity. And it's not a good sign. You're sick of being below men as such. You want to be free. But now, you're going to act as one, you have to. Because if you don't, you'll have another leash on your neck like the one Jack had on you.

You force a flattered smile, “I’m just a girl who got lucked out, sir.”

“Indeed,” He speaks with such eloquence, “Considering your status with your previous associate, Mr. Harold.”

A bitter bile rolls up in the back of your throat. You wash it down with another sip of your bitter coffee. He has to rub it in your face. You're practically a whore. However, you hold your chin up, “I’m not ashamed of my work, Mr. Edgar.”

That's true. You're not ashamed you survive this cruel world with unseemly means. You're past that. You had to work to eat, to live after your brother died, leaving you all on your own.

“That’s good,” He nods just so, “Because what I'm going to offer you requires no coy coquetry or sleazy bashfulness,” He adds, “I understand your contract designates you to work for us, whether Mr. Harold is associated or not.”

You give him a nod. That's true; your contract with Vought was with you, not with Jack, even though he was involved before. You scoff internally; all you signed were slavery contracts, whether the one with Jack or the one with Vought. There's no way to sugar-coat this. You're their bitch now.

“I was told you were having cold feet about being Soldier Boy's new public partner.”

Your body flinches again as you recall how he told you you belonged to him now. But from what Edgar just told you, you belonged to Vought now. Neither settle well with you.

“Well, I was confused,” You answer. A lie of course, “I thought Crimson Countess was Ben's girlfriend,”

Edgar chuckles, amused, “Well, they were,” He remarks, “But their popularity as a power couple has deteriorated as of yet. People need someone to relate with, and that is going to be you…”

You take another sip of your coffee, your body fidgeting under his perceiving eyes.

Naturally, Edgar picks up on your visible hesitation. “What if I told you I could offer you payback for your brother.”

Your eyes dilate in stupor, blinking as you absorb the fact he knows about your brother. Nobody knew about him but Jack. Edgar seems to have dug after you, which makes you shift in discomfort.

You wonder how your brother will be avenged. Edgar doesn't mean killing Ben, does he? The man is nearly invincible. He's the fucking strongest man alive. So, how? But the nonchalant confidence Edgar is speaking with gives you a hint that he isn't bluffing. But why? To your understandment, Ben is their most important asset. That's why they're keeping you in the first place. For him. Your mind whirl with questions and qualms.

But the most significant one… You want your brother avenged, but do you want Ben to get killed?

Your heart wrings at the thought of a dead Ben.

But he killed your brother, you remind yourself. But you love him…

Emotions burn behind your eyes, you try to hold them back. The war between your heart and mind is an alien sensation to you. And it's burning you up.

“Please him,” Edgar enunciates, tone nothing but business, “Keep him tamed… and on his toes. And your brother will be avenged.”

“How so?” Your brow raises in inquiry. You're still finding it difficult to picture Ben being taken down.

The tip of your stomach roils at the thought of Ben taking away from you. It dreads you how much effect the man has over you. You can't pinpoint it yet, but you're sure it's nothing like what you had with Jack. The thing you have with Ben is much more… intimate… akin to mutual infatuation. You love him, your mind tells you again.

“That’s none of your current concern,” He answers in a matter-of-fact voice, “When the time comes, you'll be informed.”

Despite your bemusement and your colliding feelings, you nod. You do want retaliation for your brother, but do you want it at your heart's expense? Ben is the only one who makes you feel free, safe, protected. He promised you so. Yet, here you are… discussing betrayal with this man.

“What say you?” He presses again.

You open your mouth to answer, but your ears prick up at the sudden ruckus behind Edgar's office door which swings open, followed by a cry, “Get off me!”

You shift in your seat and you're looking at her. Crimson Countess.

Her eyes are on fire as she glowers at Edgar, then at you, “You’re replacing me with her?!” She utters in revulsion.

“Your point has significantly dropped lately, Carol,” Edgar's tone is unchanging, “And that isn't befitting of Soldier Boy's image.”

Countess snickers, “It’s all about that fucker, isn't it?”

Your eyes furrow in confusion; isn't she supposed to be his girlfriend. Oh, she's now the angry ex-girlfriend.

She lets out a sour cackle, then leers at you, “You think a little bitch like you can handle him?” She grins wickedly, “Well, good luck with that…”

You don't like her gloating expression, then your eyes flit back at Edgar. He's looking at you, studying you. He wants to see how you're going to act. Is this some kind of a test? Is he testing where your loyalty lies?

Well, you don't give a damn. All you want right now is to smack that bitch in the face. However, you deliver it in a different way.

The flashing memories of your brother give you the audacity and courage to stick up.

“I think I can handle Ben just fine. And dare I say better than you did, Carol.”

Her mouth gapes at you; she didn't expect the comeback. For all she knows you're some hooker Ben fetched from the street.

You continue, a sly grin on your lips, “Did you know he likes to go on the fifth base?” You let out a mocking snore, “I bet you didn't. But tell ya one thing… he loves it.”

Countess is taken off guard by your blatant impudence. She never had someone like you standing up for themselves against her, you guess. You don't think ruffling a supe’s feathers is a good idea, but the expression on bitch's face is worth it. You feel, for a fleeting moment, power and control flooding through your psyche, and you savour the vigourous sensation.

Countess seethes at you, then she marches in your direction.

You cower in your place, but you don't run.

“That’s enough!” Edgar's voice hauls her in her tracks.

She stops and glares at him, “You want her to take my place? Fine!” Her voice is filled with poison, “Don’t crawl back to me, begging me to keep him in place.”

With that she left.

And your sudden audacity wanes slowly away.

You look at Edgar, and you don't like the way his lips curl up one bit.

Turns out Edgar had a lot up on his sleeves for the two of you. And you guessed right. You didn't like it.

However, for the past few days you've been true to your words, playing your part perfectly as you should as Soldier Boy's new girlfriend.

You two are eyed everywhere together. On television, on the news, they all talk about Soldier Boy's new human girlfriend.

In other circumstances, you'd take this to heart and revel in the attention and the lights. Frankly, you do to a certain degree despite everything that has happened. Perhaps you are actually happy without Jack in the picture. But what dread you the truth you've been avoiding all those days. You are happy with Ben.

Despite Ben's faults and bad temper, he's been actually nice to you since that day albeit you expected the opposite. For some reason — that's baffling you, he's gentle and tender with you. You can even sense sweet affection underneath his harsh facade.

The truth appals you. You're falling deeper for your brother's murderer.

Ben keeps you under his eyes all the time. On and off set. In his shootings and breaks. He can't afford losing you now he practically owns you.

Ever since that day, you provoked something foreign in his soul. Your tears and vulnerability alerted protective instincts over you. He doesn't know how to explain it… but, the only thing he knows is that he'd kill anyone if they hurt you.

What is this you ignited within him? He's not good at those. Sentiments. Love? He scoffs, he never knew what love is. Maybe what's fucking his system up is? He doesn't know. Again, he sucks at this.

But he knows this, if that motherfucker even thought to get near you again, he'd fucking rip him apart.

Now, however, he's relishing in the moment of the flashes around you both, snapping pictures of you together on a red carpet. He gazes down at you, and his expression softens.

You muster a well-feigned smile as cameras taking pictures of you with Ben. Arm looped through his, you wave at the applauding audience behind the fence.

“Soldier Boy, this way!”

“For how long have you two been dating?”

“Is Crimson Countess still in the picture?!”

“(Y/N), what is it like to be Soldier Boy’s girl as an ordinary woman?”

And it goes on and on.

Unlike you, Ben seems to be used to the attention of the crowd. He revels in it, given how poised and well-adjusted to situations like that. You on the other hand, never had an audience as myriad as this one before. Ever since Vought dropped the song, you've been swarmed by scoops and reporters. Vought — at Soldier Boy’s order — hired two bodyguards to maintain your safety from any overly zealous new fan when you leave the tower.

In fact, you haven't left it ever since they kicked Jack's ass out. You spend your days in the tower as if it's your hermitage of abstinence. Life with Soldier Boy is anything but abstinent, though.

Even though he owns you as he claims, he never lays a finger on you. Of course, you sleep in his bed, but to your stupor, Soldier Boy hasn't solicited anything physical from you. He rather scoops you up in his arms from behind, snuggling his face into your neck. You've grown big on the intimate proximity you two share. It baffles you. He made it clear that you were his property, yet he hasn't asked you anything physical ever since.

Now, is the closest you've ever had with him since Herogasm. His arm wrapped around your waist as he flaunts you off to the press.

Tonight is a charity ball for Vought, and they decided it was a good idea to put you on show for the keen fans. Ben reluctantly agreed.

“How is it being Soldier Boy's new girl?” One of the reporters shouts.

You gaze up at Ben, his face is concealed by his mask. He's attending the party with his supe gear. Your eyes fall upon the reporter then at Ben again. A small grin forming on your lips.

They want a show? Let's give them one.

Your lips are on his.

The crowd roars in applause.

When you pull away, your eyes are half-lidded, staring straight at his.

Then he smirked, whispering in your ears, “Good girl.”

And that makes you shiver. The rasp in his voice sends small shocks of pleasure down your spine.

Ben grins at your reaction, pecking your lips again. The audience blare again in acclamation. You grin back.

Then you saunter into the hotel hall where the ball takes place. Ben's arm doesn't leave your waist as he leads you in. Despite the leering eyes looking in your way, you feel protected by Ben.

You spend most of the time at Ben's side, men and women swarm up to him, each racing to kiss his ass better than the other. Although you find it ridiculous, you maintain a polite prestige.

Ben grins at you, he's proud of you. You're handling those cocksuckers like a champ. You know when to speak and when you let out a titter, mostly at some dull joke of those men. On the other hand, he can't stand the way they're ogling you like you're a bag of flesh to prey on. He grows indignant by each passing moment, his arm pulls you closer to his body.

Ben notices they're starting to wear you out, so he decides to let you off the hook, “Could you fetch me a drink, darlin’?” He flashes you one of his giddy grins.

“Sure,” You grin back, “Bourbon with rocks?”

“Atta girl.” He subtly winks at you, making you blush.

Ben's eyes follow your back as you meander to the large bar.

His head turns back to the men around him.

“Stan was right,” One of them piped up, looking at you from his spot. Ben doesn't like how the man's eyes follow your figure with lust swirling in them. “She does fit better as your arm candy than Countess.”

Ben's jaws grate. You're nothing like that bitch. You're truly his, his pretty little treasure.

He glares at the man, his name is Robert or something… he doesn't give enough shit to remember those men's names. Because they don't matter. None of them does. But he has to keep his cool, and conceal the burning urge to gouge each one's eyes out for staring at you. He mustn't show any sign of vulnerability. Not in front of those douchebags, not in front of anybody.

But the man keeps on pushing his buttons as he says, “Legend claims that you intend to keep this one all yours, is that true?”

Rage boils inside of his body. The fucking audacity. Doesn't this man value his life? Because if he utters another word about you, Ben is going to lose it and bashes the man's head into the wall with no ounce of regret.

Ben's eyes narrow behind the mask of his helmet, then forces a grin, “Damn right he is,” He drawls, patting the man's back. He mustn't show them any weakness, because if he does, they'll be waiting to feast on him like vultures do a cadaver. Instead, Ben opts to another option. “What can I say? I'm a bit of greedy man when it comes to such a catch like her.”

He hopes the scalding glare in his eyes conveys the message.

At the other side of the hall, you're waiting for your drinks at the bar table. Sitting on the stool, you fiddle with your thumbs, until you feel someone accost you from your side. You look up and see a woman who's smiling at you.

“Hi, I'm Lana,” She says, extending her hand.

“Hi,” You say, your eyes momentarily flit at Ben who's across the hall then back at her.

Lana orders a drink and makes herself comfortable on the stool adjacent to yours.

“Here you go, ma'am,” The bartender places your drinks in front of you.

“Excuse me,” You tell Lana as you lift the martini glasses up as you're ready to get back to Ben.

“It’s nice, isn't it?” Lana tilts her head to look at you, “Being the sweetheart of America's sweetheart.” You stop in your tracks and turn to her.

“Can’t say it's not…” You answer.

Lana scoffs, “Are you aware of the man under that mask, Miss?”

Your brows furrow, you don't like the tone she's speaking with.

Lana gives her surroundings a quick scan as she leans closer to you, “A piece of advice… from a woman to woman—”

You cut her off, “I’m sorry, who are you again?”

“I’m Lana Miller of Daily Supes, and I think you can—”

Your eyebrow twitches in indignation, “How did you get in here?”

“That doesn't matter,” She replies, “What matters is that your boyfriend is responsible for carelessly murdering hundreds of people under the term “accidental casualties”...”

You feel as if an arrow of fire sears through your chest.

“You and I can hold him accountable for his crime—”

“Security!” You screech with a high-pitched voice.

The woman's eyes widen as she sees three guards manueaver their way towards her. She draws a card from her bag and swiftly puts it in your hand, “In case you change your mind.”

Then she sets off. However, the trained guards capture her and see her out of the building.

“Who the fuck was that?” You flinch a bit at Ben's voice coming from behind you.

“A nobody…” You say, balling the card up in your fist.

When you both retire back to Ben's quarters, you both are unhinged. Each for a different reason. Ben is set to prove to those pigs, and himself, that you're only his. And you want to forget about everything by getting intoxicated in sex.

Tonight was rough on you and him. You're still not accustomed to the intense attention, and neither is he to care about someone so… immensely. However, you both did your parts after Edgar had a small welcome speech dedicated to you, the new couple at the podium.

You get each other’s clothes off, and your lips are chasing for more and more kisses.

Once you and Ben are nude, he lifts you up only to throw you into the bed and crawling up your body. Panting softly, you look up at him with half-lidded eyes. There's something feracious in his green eyes.

“Mine…” He seethes, lips pressing to your neck, then trailing down the column of your throat.

You moan as he bites.

He pulls away slightly to admire the hickey he left on you.

“Say it…” He demands.

You grin up at him, “Make me.”

Ben lets out a deep grunt, “Say it, woman!”

You can't help but giggle, how can you not, when you keep the strongest man alive on edge.

“You think this is funny?” His hand reaches the back of your head, tugging your hair roughly.

You moan, hissing at him, “What if I do?”

“So you like it?” His voice is aggressive, “Getting eye-fucked by every man sees you?”

You grit your teeth, your eyebrows arching in defiant, “Isn’t that my new job?”

“Oh, no no,” He growls, “You got it all wrong… sweetheart.” You can feel his cock hard against your belly.

“Your new job is to serve me… obey me… be the good slut you are to me, and only me.”

You feel the tip of your stomach roil, and it bolts straight to your throbbing core.

“Then claim me…” You challenge, “Make me yours again…”

And he does.

Needless to say, you wake up with a sore body the next day. Seems like Ben doesn't take it too kindly when he has his buttons pushed on. Yet, you couldn't resist the temptation. You savour his aggressive passion, even if it hurts you a bit. It's worth it. He makes you feel wanted, protected, and appreciated. And even, dare you say, loved.

“Men like him do not love.”

Here it is again, the voice of consciousness reminding you of the ugly truth. You're in love with your brother's murderer.

The warmth of his chest shrouds you from behind. You shift a bit and snuggle up to his hold, resting your head on his chest. His hand strokes your hair, his chin is on your head.

You smile in complacency.

Unlike you, Ben hasn't slept a wink. After you hit the sack in his arms, his eyes were wide awake, his mind thinking about you.

You're making him weak. He hates being weak. Caring for someone makes one vulnerable, and he can't afford it. He wouldn't have it said that a woman turned Soldier Boy into a pussy.

You open your eyes when you sense him moving away from your hold. He sits up, back to you. You frown, touching his back, but one thing you're sure about is the tangible shift of his aura.

Ben glances at you over his shoulder, “Is it true,?” You blink, then he continues, “What we have?”

You flinch at his question.

“It is to me.” You reply after a pause, “Is it to you?”

He looks away. He refuses to show weakness to anyone, and especially to you.

“I’m a man of my word, and I remember making you a promise.” He answers sharply.

“That doesn't answer my question, Ben.”

“I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it.” He says, still not facing you.

“Do you love me?” You ask, voice wavering with emotions.

You notice how his body startles at your question.

Finally, he turns to face you, “Love is weakness and I'm not weak.”

You feel a painful twang in your chest, tears burn your eyes.

Ben looks away again, shuffling with his clothes, avoiding gazing upon you.

“See you later…” He says, and just like that, he leaves. Only then you let your tears stream down your cheeks.

He doesn't love you.

He's not as weak and pathetic as you are.

That pernicious voice whispers in your ear, somehow, it resembles Jack's.

You wipe your tears away, get dressed, then march out of the tower into outside. You make it to the closest telephone booth. You open up the wrinkled card, and call the number on it.

“Ms. Miller? This is (Y/N) (L/N).” You say, “You and I have work to do.”

🦅 Previous Chapter: A Man's Property.

🦅 Next Chapter: Coming Soon

🦅 Somewhere In Your Heart Masterlist

🦅 Soldier Boy Masterlist

Taglist: @thebiggerbear, @zepskies, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deansbbyx, @deans-spinster-witch

@venus-haze, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @ketchupjasmin, @demodemo909

@mystic-mara, @jqtaro, @pepsicolacoochie, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @prurose

@leavli, @robertthehoover, @soldiergrimes, @vanessa-boo, @uddiifiigj...

[xueyuverse]

Beefleaf one-shot for brazilian Valentine's Day, a humble gift for my boyfriend @hexuandy

For centuries, he believed that revenge would be enough, that after all part of his soul, the one that saw his family die before falling apart, would be at peace, while the other part would live in eternal bitterness for his own failure, for everything for it to have gone so wrong and for him not to have been able to figure out what while he was still alive and thus missing his chance to save them. After all, above his grudge against Shi Wudu, was his grudge against himself.

He failed and continues to fail. First with his family, then with himself for not being able to feel that the revenge had the ending he would like, but, mainly, with the one he should never think about again, much less in that way.

Shi Qingxuan looked fine, happy in his new simple life alongside that group of beggars. However, of course, He Xuan knew that happiness wasn't an unbreakable fort. There were more days of false happiness than genuine happiness, no matter how good-natured and witty he was, there were still many days when that little happiness, whether it was a mask or not, broke.

And He Xuan could only feel guilt and anger at himself for feeling guilty and for a failure that shouldn't exist. Why does he feel like he failed Shi Qingxuan?! He did everything he wanted and what was necessary, Shi Qingxuan felt the weight of his revenge without needing to end up like his brother, he has a chance to live a good and long life despite the new difficulties, so why? What did he do wrong? Where is he still going wrong?

With a furious snort, He Xuan returned to his lair.

***

The days he spent away from Shi Qingxuan were not many. Unfortunately, against his own will, He Xuan returned, this time with a box of new clothes and comforters, simple and warm enough for the coming winter, and placed it at the entrance to the old temple where Shi Qingxuan lives. There were enough clothes and comforters for the entire group of beggars, he didn't risk separating just for Shi Qingxuan so as not to be too suspicious and for Shi Qingxuan, as he is, to end up with nothing.

The person who found the box was someone else, a old lady who He Xuan had already noticed was always accompanied by a boy who must have been her grandson due to their physical similarities, and after seeing the contents of the box she took it inside in a burst of energy.

He Xuan only left after making sure Shi Qingxuan got new changes of clothes and comforter for himself.

It's been like that lately. He Xuan gathers a box of useful things like clothes, blankets, medicine, grain, and anything else good for the safety and comfort of Shi Qingxuan (and the group of beggars with him). It was clear that one day Shi Qingxuan would suspect all of this and go after whoever was making these donations, so when that day arrived He Xuan was already prepared.

“Gotcha!” Shouted Shi Qingxuan behind He Xuan as soon as he left the box at the temple entrance.

He Xuan turned around and Shi Qingxuan continued to smile, not being able to recognize him in his new appearance, very different from the one he usually wore: reddish-brown hair, greenish eyes and light olive skin. He gave a polite smile and bowed in respect, “You got me. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“How could you! You have helped us so much and you don't even show yourself to us. Are you ashamed to be helping us? Or are you shy?”

He Xuan shrugged and said, “I just never felt the need to show up. I do this 'cause I like it, I know what it’s like to live like this.”

A lie. Despite the difficulties he faced in life, he never became homeless. But, Shi Qingxuan didn't need to know that.

Shi Qingxuan seemed to sympathize with him and nodded: “I understand. Even though I don't have much, I can still offer you some tea. It’s cold this morning, it would be nice to warm up a little before you have to go.”

He Xuan was supposed to say no and leave, but for some irrational reason, he found himself nodding his head, and not wanting to contradict himself, he said, to his shame, “I would love to.”

And Shi Qingxuan opened a smile that lit up his face, he seemed to shine, and he jumped up and down with joy.

“Right, right!” He said and then scratched his throat. “Come, I promise no one will bother us. Since you don’t seem to want anyone to find out about you, I won’t introduce you to the others.” He smiled and pressed a finger to his lips. “It will be our secret. You are safe with me!”

He Xuan smiled, almost laughing at the irony of this choice of words, and let himself be dragged inside. But Shi Qingxuan was as good as his word, keeping other people away and not dwelling on any topic that was brought up along the way until they reached what seemed to be his corner. He squatted down, arranged some blankets and cushions (given by He Xuan) on the floor, gathered some firewood, and hung the kettle above the fire after brewing the mint tea (also given by him). He Xuan couldn't hold back his laughter.

Shi Qingxuan turned to him: “Huh? What it was?"

He shook his head and said, “You just got the tea I like right.”

“Oh!” Shi Qingxuan looked at the kettle again. “Well, it’s the only one I have now that the others are gone, so it was pure luck!” He laughed and He Xuan made a mental note to bring more tea later. 

Shi Qingxuan tried to talk to him and find out his name (“Just call me Ge, most people call me that”), but after seeing that “Ge” was not receptive, he just started telling stories without seeking reciprocity. And when the tea was finally ready, they both drank their cups in silence.

An hour and a half later He Xuan left, leaving behind a Shi Qingxuan eager for his return, something he didn't promise he would do.

“But you always come back!” He pouted.

He Xuan laughed: “I can always hide.”

And indeed, he continued hiding, but he never stopped going to that temple and watching Shi Qingxuan, who stubbornly waited for him on the entrance stairs from the time he found him that day, and kept waiting for him for hours until, with a sad sigh, give up and go back inside.

Shi Qingxuan never gave up waiting for him, however, even after three years, and He Xuan never stopped watching him from afar and continuing his donations. That must be why Shi Qingxuan didn't give up, because he knew that every week he would come back.

He Xuan thought about stopping the donations for at least a while, just until Shi Qingxuan gave up, and that's what he did. 

Who knew that this would not only make Shi Qingxuan give up, but also make him go after “Ge”. And he really seemed determined to find him, as he didn't return to the temple even after two weeks of unsuccessful searching.

He Xuan sighed, internally complaining about Shi Qingxuan's stubbornness, then decided to make an appearance to at least convince him to return home.

It was easy to blend in with the workers at the shopping center and pretend it had always been there. Shi Qingxuan was already there, so He Xuan chose an impossible-to-miss stall and waited to be found.

No sooner said than done. Shi Qingxuan's face lit up, he even looked like he was on the verge of tears, and he ran towards He Xuan until he reached him behind the stall, causing the stall owner to shout indignantly that Shi Qingxuan was driving away customers.

And as for He Xuan, who didn't expect to be hugged as if he were someone so important to Shi Qingxuan, he couldn't move a muscle for an embarrassingly long time. When he finally succeeded, he dragged Shi Qingxuan, still hanging around his neck, away from the tent and the people.

“Qingxuan…”

“Finally!” He screamed, tearfully. “Ah ge, why did you disappear?! Do you have any idea how worried I was?!” He patted his arm very lightly, as if he was afraid of hurting He Xuan.

And He Xuan laughed. Placing his hands on Shi Qingxuan's shoulders, he pushed him away and said, “Sorry, the last few weeks have been rough. I didn't know you were worried. I didn’t think you would come after me.”

Lying was so easy that sometimes He Xuan felt disgusted with himself for it, like now. However, even if he wanted to, how could he tell the truth?

“Humpf! So you really didn't want to see me again! All your solidarity with the beggars is just a facade!”

He Xuan shook his head but didn't try to defend himself.

“Forgive this one, Qingxuan. I promise to see you again, as long as you don't come looking for me again.”

“You don’t even deny it! So, I don't want you to come see me again either! We don’t need your false charity!” He hummed again and turned his head.

He Xuan snorted, feeling insulted.

“Nothing I did was fake. I just didn't want to show up. Anyway, let me make it up to you, I worried you and made you waste your time for nothing. Qingxuan likes dòufu huā*?”

Shi Qingxuan glanced at him from the corner of his eyes and said, “I like a lot of sweets.”

“Great. My tent has many and will have even more this New Year's Eve. Do you want to participate in the festival here or…?”

This captured Shi Qingxuan's full attention. “Oh my gods, is it New Year already!? Yeah, I want to participate! You need to reward me!”

He Xuan smiled, more sincerely than ever before, and shook his head. “Alright ,” he said. “Do you want to wait until the festival starts somewhere else or would you like a tour of the city?”

Shi Qingxuan linked his arm with his. “A tour of the city, please. I want proof that you’re not ashamed of me.”

He Xuan laughed and pulled him into a leisurely walk: “Fair enough.”

“Of course it is!”

***

*豆腐花 (dòufu huā), is a Chinese sweet or savoury snack made with silken tofu. It is also referred to as doufuhua, tofu pudding, soybean pudding or, particularly in northern China, tofu brains

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for being bitter at my family for keeping their dog that doesn't like me, and for being glad when they had to get rid of the dog?

so i (adult m) live in a small 3bed/2bath home with my family: mom (f40s), dad (m40s), nana (f60s), and my sisters (f17, f12). i was homeless for a while and moved in with them in dec 2019/jan 2020. they had two dogs that they loved for a long time, both dogs had passed years before i moved in. from what i've heard, the dogs were beloved members of the family and their deaths, while expected (because of old age and health issues), were devastating.

our house is small, but i don't really have an issue with that. i spend nearly 100% of my time inside the house because of a surgery i had a while back, and i'm content to nap and watch TV and socialize with my family all day. i require a lot of care and special attention and i'm unable to hold a job (would rather not go into detail), and while occasionally my family will leave me home by myself for a few days for a vacation, this is pretty rare and i'm overall satisfied with the care they are able to provide me. i'd say my life is pretty good.

or it was.

in the last couple of years it has been increasingly obvious that my family (with the exception of my nana) miss having a dog around. they would occasionally talk about a dog up for adoption they saw online, or a friend who was having puppies and how it would be so cool to get a puppy, or looking at videos of dogs and reminiscing about their old dogs and talking about how nice it would be to get a dog. this didn't bother me in and of itself, because it had been happening for a while and they never actually followed through.

... until early last month, when they came home with a dog. this came from out of nowhere (they stopped on the way home from the shelter to buy dog supplies, like food and bowls, toys, etc). no one had told me about this or asked me what i thought, so i was surprised and confused when they brought a strange dog into the home. according to them, they are "fostering" this dog for a few months while she undergoes treatment for a health condition (after which she will be eligible for adoption), but her behavior towards me has erased any sympathy i might have felt for her.

this dog is big (she's almost certainly stronger than i am), unruly, untrained, and she does not like me. i've been avoiding her because her extreme level of energy unnerves me, but every time she sees me she growls at me and tries to lunge or snap at me like i'm the one invading her territory and not the other way around. i have voiced my fears and my strong dislike at having this dog in the house, but i don't think my family really understands what i'm saying.

after a few days, it became clear that allowing the both of us to be in the same room would lead to injury. this was further cemented after an incident where i was sitting on the couch with my mom and my sister came in from walking the dog and the dog lunged at me and i accidentally gave my mom a minor injury in my panic. so my family has decided that the best course of action, until they have time to condition her to my presence, is for me to stay in my room indefinitely.

practically, the space is big enough for me—i don't need much, and i'm not super physically active, the only thing i can't do in here that i can do in the common areas is watch tv—but it's frustrating being confined to a single room in my own home, where i've lived for years, while this dog is granted open access to the rest of the house. my family promised it would be temporary, that they just have to work on training her and correcting her behavior and getting her comfortable with me, but the longer this has dragged on the more i have been forced to accept that this is my life now.

at the end of last month, my sibling (nby20, lived with us until starting college in 2021) came down from their university town to stay with us for a few days for their birthday. during their visit, they spent some time in my room with me, hanging out and empathizing with my situation. they said some things that made me feel more validated in my discomfort over this whole situation.

the week after they went back home, the dog started acting aggressively toward my nana, especially when my nana got close to one of my sisters. it got to the point where my family had to lock her in her crate to keep her from attacking my nana, and even then she would bark and growl at my nana. so my family made the (very difficult for them) decision to stop fostering the dog and return her to the shelter. since she was returned, i have regained my access to the rest of the house.

while i am not stoked about my nana being attacked, i am relieved that the dog is gone and i am no longer a prisoner in my own home. along with this relief are feelings of bitterness—the dog acted aggressively toward me on numerous occasions, but as soon as she displayed that behavior toward my nana, they got rid of her. after the conversation with my oldest sibling, who offered an outside perspective, i have been feeling slighted and as if my comfort was a secondary concern to my family.

my parents and sisters, meanwhile, are devastated by this recent turn of events. they had all grown very attached to the dog (apparently she could be very sweet and loving when she wasn't aggressive), and they had fallen in love with her quirks and the amount of excitement she brought into the home. my parents had spent good money spoiling her with toys and treats that cannot be used now. my sisters, being younger, are especially devastated—my youngest sister has always felt things very deeply and openly, and seeing her this sad is heartbreaking. i've been trying to comfort my family as best i can, but i feel like my presence alone is just another reminder that the dog is gone.

though i acknowledge their attachment to the dog and their sadness at having to give her up, these feelings of bitterness and resentment—that her attacking me wasn't a "good enough" reason to get rid of her—remain. i am also having trouble tampering my relief and excitement at once again being allowed access to the tvs and the common areas. am i an asshole for having these feelings when my family loved this dog and are still upset at having to get rid of her?

What are these acronyms?

[sir-subpar]

Queen Bouncelia! Reimagined

I actually don't mind most of what she does in the game, although I do wish all the characters were more animated visually. Especially since the voice actors have been putting a lot more energy into it lately especially with Bitter giggle (I'll get to him, don't worry I have some things to say about that one)

I like the fact that she's very kind and is one of the only characters who never tries to hurt you in the game. Of course that would be different for my reimagined version since I'm kind of going with a helping each of the characters / most of the characters one by one sort of theme. But I just wanted to sing my Praises for something that I appreciated

Below the cut

First off, love the purple. Perfect pun potential. Royal Purple? Perfect.

Her crown was kind of meh to me, I know I myself didn't do anything too crazy, I did want to do a different type of crown. As hers looks more like a tiara, and I preferred something more like an upper rank Royal Crown

On the top of this new Crown I put a small gym that looks like a broken heart, it seems like she's pretty lonely nowadays, so I kind of wanted to play with that

She misses interacting with people. Of course she appreciates the sheriff's company, but while he's good company, I'm sure she still misses talking to other people as well. She seems like somebody who used to be a social butterfly

I feel like the fact that she's not allowed to laugh should be very stressful. Just her not being allowed to laugh at all? Depressing. I'm sure she misses being able to laugh without having to worry. To be able to have some time where you could just chuckle at a few bad puns with no consequences

I feel like she would end up being a good friend with the player, especially seeing the line about the parent thing. She understands the player, on a level that most of the other characters can't. I feel like it would be a great bonding experience

Are the naughty ones in her pouch her children? Does she feel guilt or does she feel like she failed as a parent for them to end up this way? If I were making the Banban games, that would be a cool thing to explore

Possibly lost her arm to the naughty ones?

Note; I will be designing my version of her scepter soon, as I want to make it look nice and I haven't quite hit the mark yet.

[megamindsecretlair]

The God Who Stole Me

Pairing: Loki x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Degrading/Praise kink, cursing, cruel language, mentions of "being worthless and nothing". Unprotected sex, PWP, PIV, fingering fem receiving, oral male receiving, domination, pet names, established relationship, sorry if I miss any others!

Summary: Set in the early days, before Thor 1, you are a mere mortal who found your way to Asgard. You and Loki understand each other in a way no one else really does. There's not much plot, just pure smut.

Word Count: 2,852k

A/N: I don't know what to say, beyond I'm a whore and feral and my hormones are out of my control. If I missed warnings, I'm really sorry. I just thought this was hot as hell. Not beta'd or proofread so all mistakes are mine. While likes are awesome, please consider commenting and reblogging to support writers!

You enter his office. You cast your eyes about looking for the man himself. He stands before a window, looking out across the realm. At your entrance, he turns his scowl on you. 

You step softly on the hardwood floor and close the door behind you. “Yes?” He asks. 

You rock on your heels. He’s in a nasty mood tonight. “Came to bother you, of course.” You don’t have an ounce of self-preservation around this man. There was no use pretending. 

“I’m busy planning. I don’t have time for you right now,” he says. He turns his attention back to the window. 

You study his profile. He wears his casual leathers, the black and green highlighting his dark hair as it fans around his face. His shoulders are hunched forward and he rubs his chin. Planning, scheming, plotting. 

“Maybe I can help,” you offer. 

Loki’s laugh is cruel and mocking. “Do you think me so foolish that I would accept help from you? If so, you must be a special kind of stupid.” 

You only smile. “Right, right. Not like your last dozen or so schemes weren’t complete failures or anything.” You cast your eyes about the room. Your poor baby had been hard at work, pouring over mountains of paperwork. 

Loki chuckles with little humor. “I am the God of Mischief, not the God of Utter Failure. Show some respect if you want to leave here alive,” he says. 

“You won’t hurt me, Loki. So stop with the threats, you’re boring me,” you sing. Your long burnished orange dress swishes against the floor as you walk about, tidying up things. He hates when you do that. So you continue to do it anyway with a happy smile on your face.

“What makes you so confident that I won’t hurt you?” He asks.

“You love me too much, duh,” you say. 

Loki turns away from the window and leans against the frame. He watches you with little interest. Like a cat regarding a poor offering of food. “Do not flatter yourself, little mortal. I could never love something so…insignificant,” he says. 

You only laugh. “The lord doth protests too much,” you say and smirk at him. 

“Stop provoking me, mortal,” he says. He narrows his eyes. His scowl deepens. Whatever it was that happened to put him in such a foul mood, you bet it had to do with Odin. Curse the All Father, he is a cruel and bitter man. A Has-Been. He heaps praise on Thor and ignores his other son. 

“Use my name properly, God of Failure,” you say with a raised eyebrow. “Stop being rude.” 

He scoffs and stalks towards you. A thrill goes through you. Perhaps he isn’t in that bad of a mood. If he were truly fed up, he wouldn’t engage with you at all. He’d simply ignore you as if you were a fly buzzing about his head.

“I was not aware I had a reason to be nice to you.” He leans forward and looks down his nose at you. You stare at him square in the eye. 

“You might hurt my feelings,” you say. You pout and give him puppy dog eyes. 

“Perhaps hurting your feelings would not be the worst idea,” he said. He reachs up and strokes your cheek softly. His eyes finally soften, filled with longing and some unknowable emotion you couldn’t name.

“You’d only fail at that too,” you say. You lean into his touch. 

“I’m not even trying yet.”

You smile. You back away until your legs hit his desk. You slide backwards onto it, getting as comfortable as you can. You lean back on your hands and tilt your head at him.

“Go on then, let’s hear your best attempt,” you say.

Loki takes in your prone form and his eyes darken. He smirks as he thinks. “You are just a tiny mortal, no more than an insect to me,” he says.

“A good first attempt. Give us another,” you command.

Loki's smirk grows wider. He approaches you until he crowds your space. You widen your legs and he steps between them, running his hands up and down your bare, copper skin. 

“You will grow old and die, forgotten by all. You are nothing but an extra who will be left on the cutting room floor. You will fade away, no more than a whisper in the wind.”

“That’s too easy, even for you.” You grip the edge of his collar and absently play with it. His mahogany and teakwood scent float over and around you, crowding your senses. Heat casts off him in waves.

Loki scoffs. He runs the back of his fingers along your cheek. Then he rubs his thumb across your full, pouty lips. “Maybe this will work then. No man, no god, nor creature could ever love you the way you want to be loved. You are doomed to a life of eternal loneliness and misery.”

You pretend to yawn. You smack your lips and blink sleepily at him. 

Loki’s answering chuckle vibrates his whole body. Standing between your legs as he is, you feel him. He trails his long fingers along the length of your neck before sliding up under your chin and lifts it. 

“You will live out your days as a mere plaything, used and discarded by whoever deigns to give you their attention.” 

A slow grin spreads across your face. “Are you the God of Stating the Obvious?” 

“You are worthless and unlovable. Weak. Your life is pathetic,” he continues. 

You give a lazy shrug. “I’m waiting for my feelings to be hurt,” you say. 

“Why would anyone want you? You are not even attractive,” he says. His eyes roam over your body with a mild disgusted face. You suppress a giggle. 

“Attacking my beauty is also too easy. I guess you’re not capable of hurting my feelings. The God of Utter Failure, I see.” 

Loki smiles seductively, leaning down to kiss along your neck, your jaw, and the corners over your lips. “You are truly frail and breakable,” he says. He captures your lips in his. His fingers grab the hem of your dress and lift it. His hands trail up your bare legs, causing goosebumps to raise in his wake.

He pulls your legs wider, forcing you to open up further for him. You gasp and bite your lip. Your thighs tingle with anticipation. 

“I’m frail and mortal and disgusting,” you say. You kiss him back, desperately. The cadence of his voice weaves a spell on your body. You react to him more strongly than before. Or perhaps it’s just him. Just your attraction to this all powerful god before you. 

“You are mine,” he growls into your mouth. His hands get closer to your pussy and you moan just thinking of what he’s going to do to you. 

“Even as ugly and pathetic as I am?” 

“Especially as ugly and pathetic as you are.” He licks your lips and pushes his tongue inside to duel with yours. Soon, there is nothing but mashing teeth and desperate cries between you. 

“Who says you deserve me?” You lean up and run your fingers through his long, black hair. Your nails graze his scalp. He shudders beneath your touch. 

“Nobody else would want you. I am doing you a favor by claiming you,” he says. He leans in again and kisses you harder, nipping at your bottom lip. His fingers dig into your fleshy thighs. He will leave bruises come morning. The thought only excites you and makes your pussy throb painfully.

“A favor from the God of Failure? Don’t make me laugh,” you say.

“And yet, you are a mess before me,” he says. To emphasize his point, he runs his fingers over your damp panties. He hisses. “You’re soaked,” he coos. “You would throw yourself at anyone who gave you attention.” 

“Yet I have the attention of a petty, cruel god at my feet. That’s certainly something I can get used to,” you say. You tighten your legs around his waist, needing him to get closer. To do something else. Your skin feels aflame. 

“You think yourself above the God of Mischief? You are so foolish,” he says.

“I am the foolish one, yet your hands are on me. Your lips kiss my skin. What god do you serve then? Yourself? Or me?” 

“I serve myself. Only my own desires matter,” he says. He finally, finally sinks his finger into you. He coos more about how soaked you are and what a pretty mess you make before him. At the moment, you care so little. You grab onto his shoulders for any type of anchor.

He adds a finger as he swiftly glides in and out of you. The sound of his pumping fingers and your wet suction drive both of you wild. 

“Allow me to leave then. If I matter so little,” you somehow manage to say. You make obscene whimpers and cries as he drives your pleasure even higher. You lean forward and bite his shoulder through his clothes.

“You’ll leave when I’m done with you,” he growls. He watches your face as different emotions play out. He can see how much you want to resist. How badly you want to prove him wrong. But your body betrays you. Your hips jerk forward as it becomes too much sensation. 

“I truly pity you. Nothing more than a little playtoy for anyone to use and discard.” 

You whimper and bite the inside of your cheek. He leans down and nuzzles your neck.

“So, you concede that my body is desirable,” you smirk. His dark chuckle sends shivers across your skin. 

“It is your only redeeming feature. Such a pity that it is wasted on someone so dull and dim-witted,” he says. He adds a third finger and you come undone in his hands. You scream out your pleasure for any passerby to hear you. Your nails dig into his nape. Loki keeps up his relentless pounding, making your legs jerk harder. 

Your harsh breaths scorch your throat as you try to calm down. Loki’s fingers still and finally withdraw from you. He licks them one by one as he maintains eye contact with you.

“I have to be dimwitted to keep up with someone of your minor stature. Someone so jealous and cruel and prone to childish temper tantrums,” you say.

“I am the Son of Odin and the God of Mischief,” he says. He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him. His tone is disdainful and arrogant. “Pray, what do I have to be jealous of, mortal? You are nothing.” 

“I live a full life, free from burden. You are nothing more than a lost boy begging for his father’s love,” you say. 

Loki’s face morphs into a mask of pure rage. He grabs your throat and squeezes. You moan and writhe beneath him. 

Loki leans down and kisses you softly, reverently. His thumb strokes your neck as his grip lessens. 

“Your dense little brain cannot begin to fathom the complicated nature of gods,” he whispers against your lips. “I bet you could never dream that a god would set you free. Give in and let me take what you have desired for so long.”

“Are you not a God? Will you not take what you want?” You have no choice but to look into his piercing, crystal eyes. 

“I am whatever you need me to be.” 

“I wish for you to be yourself,” you say. You rub your leg against his, feeling his dick straining against his pants. “Only yourself and I shall revel in it.”

“I am myself. And what I am is yours,” he says. He says your name and smiles at you, your game momentarily forgotten. 

“Who says you’ve earned me, my god?” 

Loki chuckles, still caressing your neck. “You have it backwards, pet. You need to earn me.”

You grin. Finally. He moves away and pulls you to your feet. You stand on shaky legs but hold your weight. You trade places with him. You sink to your knees and unbutton his pants, freeing his cock. You lick your lips at the sight of it. It’s long and thick and a bead of precum leaks out from the tip.

He watches you and plays with your hair. “Oh, my little pet is bold. What a good girl,” he says.

The unexpected praise makes you sigh. He looks down at you with adoration and lust as you pump his cock. You take him into your mouth and he shivers. A low moan escapes him as you work him deeper and deeper. Your sloppy sucking is loud in your ears. He grips your hair tighter and soon, he’s fucking your mouth. You take it all, gagging on him. You can barely breathe as he pumps into you, his salty cum dripping with abandon.

“That’s my good fucking pet. You want all of it, don’t you?” He says. You can only whimper as he continues to pump into you. 

You use your hands and your mouth to drive him wild. You fondle his balls as you suck greedily. “Oh, sweet mortals and their tricks…” 

You think he’s about to climax but he roughly pulls out of your mouth. He lifts you, kissing you, tasting himself on your tongue. He sucks on your bottom lip as he trades places with you once more.  His eyes are on fire, burning into you with a near animalistic rage. He bends you over his desk, your ass jiggling and like putty in his hands. 

He drags up the hem of your dress and is too focused on getting to you that he has no time to pull down your panties. He pulls it to the side and slams into you. You both moan from the sheer sensation of him filling you up completely. He stretches you out. A lifetime with him would never prepare you for his size.

He leans over you and licks the shell of your ear. “I will have you, pet,” he whispers, which is a direct contrast from his rough fucking. Your pussy clenches around his dick and he groans. 

“Nothing in this world can satisfy me quite like your needy little pussy,” he says. He pounds relentlessly into you. His balls slap your clit from the force of his strokes. He pushes your head down until your upper body is flat on the desk. 

With one hand on your lower back, his other hand grips your thick hips. His grip is punishing. You feel his devotion in every slide, every squeeze, every spent breath. It heightens your own pleasure. That he needs you this much, craves you this much. “You are mine,” he says, thrusting with each word. “Vow it.”

“I vow it. I’m yours. I’m only yours,” you say. He’s hitting a spot so deep inside you, it’s like he’s writing his name. He’s marking you and staking his claim in the most brutal way. 

“Mine forever? Are you such a good girl to admit it?” 

“Forever. Always and forever yours,” you moan. Pressure builds painfully in your lower tummy. Your hands roam across his desk looking for anything to keep you tethered to your body. It’s like he’s trying to fuck the soul out of you. You grip the edge of his desk pathetically. Nothing but him can keep you tied down. 

You can hear the smile in his voice. “My pet…my lover…my everything,” he says and explodes inside you. A second later, you release your own orgasm. Dark spots wink in and out of your vision as pleasure courses through you. Loki makes a deep satisfied grunt as you cum all over him. 

You shake and he rubs his hands down your thighs, your hips, your sides, and your arms. He whispers incoherent things into your ear.

When you’ve finally calmed down, you shiver from the breeze coming through the open window. Loki withdraws from you. You share a moan. But the ache he leaves behind is nearly unbearable. You cry from it. 

Your combined ragged breaths are the only sound in the room as he pulls you to him. He carries the bulk of your weight to the couch where he settles you. He fixes his pants and then sits beside you, conjuring a blanket to wrap around you. He waves his hand and a fire ignites in his fireplace.

“Oh, my love. Thank you. I would rather beg at your feet than bend my knee to any other. The only one I wish to serve is you,” he says. He peppers your face with soft kisses.

“You bow to no one, my god,” you say sleepily. You are wrecked and as you grow warm, you grow sleepy.

“I bow to you. I worship you,” he says. He kisses your forehead.

You have just enough energy to look at him. He gazes lovingly at you. You may not have forever with him, but you certainly have now and all the little moments until then.

If you need more Loki in your life, great news! The Secret Loki Files

[tepkunset]

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Film Review

(This review contains spoilers!)

I consider The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes book to be a masterpiece that sets a standard of what YA Fiction can be; something that any young adult upwards can enjoy. Suzanne Collins does such an amazing job of pulling you into the world and characters she’s created, and doesn’t shy away from the truly grotesque things that make a dystopia feel impactful. I am glad to say that, for the most part, this film lives up to that standard.

Before anything else, I do want to get a few minor complaints out of the way. Keep in mind they did not ruin the film for me, but I feel they are worthy of pointing out.

Sejanus Plinth is my favourite character in the book, and while for the most part he is very accurate, there is one thing that really disappointed me: In the book, Sejanus knew damn well what he was doing with the rebels; he deliberately supplied them with weapons. But in the film, he has the line “I didn’t know there would be guns”, discovering for the first time that they used his money to arm themselves. This really feels like de-clawing his character to me.

It would’ve been nice to have at least a brief mention that Barb Azure is gay. I can understand why they had to cut out Pluribus Bell for time, but because the also cut him out, that means there’s no mention at all of the book’s queer characters in the film.

The relationship between Coriolanus and Sejanus has a much more bitter feeling in the film than in the book, and after sleeping on it, I think I know why: Because we don’t get to hear Coriolanus’s thoughts in the film, the film I think overcompensates by making him much more verbal about his snobbery towards Sejanus. Subsequently, it’s harder to believe why Sejanus sees Coriolanus as his best friend.

Okay now, onto the praises!

The story is extremely loyal to the book. In fact, there is a lot of dialogue that is ripped right of the page, and it all made me really happy to hear. I am especially glad they kept in this pinnacle Lucy Gray quote: “I think there’s a natural goodness built into human beings. You know when you’ve stepped across the line into evil, and it’s your life’s challenge to try and stay on the right side of that line.” Because this, of course, directly enforces the core message I took from the book: Good and evil is a choice. The choices that Coriolanus made are his to hold responsibility to, and as much as you can point at Dr. Gaul for introducing him to the path he takes, ultimately, he chose to walk it. Most of the changes were understandable cuts for time without any sacrifices being too detrimental. The things they added were all, in my opinion, enhancements to the story by expanding on what only happens on the peripheral of Coriolanus’s point of view in the book. For example, the things he only watches on screen in the arena are delved further into by shifting to Lucy Gray directly a few times. They also added a bit to Coral’s character at her time of death, which I liked because it made her out to be less of a cardboard antagonist and instead reminded the audience that she, too, is a victim of the system.

All the actors did a phenomenal job, from both the main and supporting cast. Tom Blyth does a great job at showing Coriolanus Snow’s progression down the path of a young villain in the making. Rachel Zegler does a great job at capturing Lucy Gray’s charm and free spirit. Josh Andrés Rivera does a great job at selling the weight Sejanus carries around with him, and has some of the best line deliveries in the film in my opinion. (My favourite being “I’m so blameless I’m choking”.) And I especially have praise for Viola Davis as Dr. Volumnia Gaul, who does an amazing job at bringing the unhinged character from the book onto the screen. She’s properly intimidating and strange at the same time. Dimitri Abold as Reaper was also a scene-stealer, in that he captures what I absorbed from the book really well; the western societal expectation that a young Black man is a danger that is then turned on its head. Not only does he not kill a single person, he has a very emotional moment of mourning for the tributes, collecting their bodies as he does in the book, and covering them with the Panem flag – something that outrages the audience more than the actual death of the children.

The scenery is very loyal to the descriptions provided in the book; I swear they stole it straight from my own personal imagination while reading.

The music… I don’t even know how to put to words my satisfaction in how the film adapts the music written out in the book, into an actual song. My personal favourite is “Nothing You Can Take From Me”. Rachel Zegler has a great voice, for sure.

The costume design is great. The Capitol’s eccentricities we know from the core trilogy haven’t evolved yet, but there’s still a certain flavour carried with characters like Tigris and Dr. Gaul for example, that tell a story of where the fashion will eventually end up. On the other hand, we see that things haven’t changed very much for District Twelve at all, which showcases how society’s change is stilted in poverty.

The colour palette of the film is mostly just a little desaturated, with one exception: whenever Lucy Gray takes Coriolanus outside of District Twelve. The meadow, the lake, and the forest are all noticeably more colourful, which I interpreted as representing the freedom these locations offer to the characters.

All in all, I think the film was fantastic. It is easily the most loyal Hunger Games adaptation, and I don’t think that’s coincidental in its quality.

[allisluv]

Lucy gray helping reader with depression?

thank you so much for your request anon! 1k words.

pairing: lucy gray baird x fem!reader

content warnings: seasonal depression, lack of self-care, reader is going through it :(((((, lucy gray being sweet, use of petnames, mostly fluff with a sprinkle of angst, not proofread so i apologise for any mistakes

November hits you like a tonne of bricks. 

It creeps up on you, slowly but surely, like water seeping through cracks in the ceiling. The days grow darker and the leaves turn a crunchy golden colour as you sink further and further into the comfort of your white satin sheets. Your body feels weighed down, like it’s made out of lead. 

It’s been like this for a little over two weeks and part of you knows it’s only going to get worse as the nights grow bitter with cold. Your body is tired but unfortunately, you can’t afford the luxury of sleep– it’s impossible to shut your mind off. 

Lucy Gray understands. You don’t know how, but she does. 

She pads across the wooden floors in her bare feet and opens the blinds. A whine of protest escapes your throat. “I know, sugar,” she coos, slipping under the duvet with you. 

She smells like lavender and you nuzzle your face into the warmth of her neck. Lucy Gray pulls you closer by the waist and tangles her legs with yours. You haven’t showered in a while but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her fingers thread through the knots in your hair. “How are you feeling?” 

You mumble out an incoherent answer and she hums in understanding. “That’s okay. Why don’t we do something fun today?” She feels you frown against her skin. “I’ve got all the ingredients to make that blueberry pie you love.” There’s a gentle lilt to her voice. “If you wanted, I could do the baking and you could look pretty all snuggled up on the couch. What do you think?” 

You weigh up the options in your head. Part of you doesn’t want to move. Part of you knows that you have to do something. “Okay.” Your hot breath tickles her neck as you sigh in defeat. “I think I need a shower but I don’t feel up to it.” 

Lucy Gray smiles. “I have an idea.” You glance up at her. “Why don’t I run some nice hot water in the sink and you can just wash yourself with a damp towel? That way you can sit on the toilet seat while you’re doing it.”

“Can you sit with me?”

“Of course I can, darlin’.”

“Not just yet, though. Wanna stay here for a minute,” you whisper softly, burying your face in the violet lace of her nightgown. Lucy Gray doesn’t miss a beat; she tugs you even closer and, as if on instinct, you melt under her touch. 

Time isn’t a priority when you’re wrapped in your girlfriend’s arms. Her touch warms your insides and you can feel her heartbeat thudding steadily against the place where you rest your cheek on her chest. 

It must take at least an hour before you’re ready to move. You start out small, rubbing your fists into your eyes and sitting up. Lucy Gray coaxes you into stretching and once you are up on your feet, she’s intertwining your fingers and guiding you towards the bathroom. 

Lucy Gray doesn’t leave much up to you; she just tells you to sit down and relax as she lets the hot water from the faucet run into the sink. She settles on the tiles by your feet, her hand resting on your bouncing knee. 

Your hands tremble as you pull a towel off the rack. If it was anyone else, they would’ve belittled you for being unable to do something as small as washing yourself. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Lucy Gray, so in very Lucy Gray fashion, she offers you a reassuring smile and says, “‘m so proud of you, honey.”

That alone nearly makes you burst into tears. Your bottom lip wobbles and she gives your knee a gentle squeeze, a silent reminder that she’s right there in that dark place with you. You suck in a deep breath through your mouth and steady your hands. 

The warm water feels good against your damp and clammy skin, like you’re washing away the sadness, somehow. 

Lucy Gray rambles on about the Covey and how there will be more people flocking to the Hob to see their performance now that the cold has settled in District Twelve. You know that she’s only talking to keep you distracted from the task at hand, but it seems to be working, so you don’t complain. 

By the time you’ve finished, she has successfully managed to keep your mind busy. She kisses the crown of your head and leads you back into your shared bedroom. She lays out your softest nightgown and helps you dress into it, tapping you playfully on the nose when your head pokes out of the top.

She carefully brushes the knots out of your matted hair, taking care to check in and make sure she’s not hurting you. As much as you hate to admit it, you do feel a bit better. “Can we go make breakfast now? I’m hungry.”

Lucy Gray beams and turns you around to face her. Her dark hair falls into her eyes and she’s quick to sweep it to the side. She’s so used to you mumbling that you don’t feel well, so hearing that you’re hungry is like hearing that The Hunger Games have just ended. “Sugar, we can do anything you want.” 

“Can we go for a nap afterwards?” 

She pecks your lips. “Honey, if you eat something, we can nap all damn week.” You plod to your feet and just as you’re reaching the door, she grabs you by the hand. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too. Thanks for not giving up on me.” 

Lucy Gray’s brows furrow. “I wouldn’t dream of it, honey. I’m in it for the long haul. Now, how do pancakes sound?”