#and trying to sort out the why and from what of various emotions

[ultimateaclrecovery]

So the boy did end up asking me if I wanted to come to Italy with him. His family is going in may and he’s been that for several months but never made it clear if he would want me to come or not (his mom specifically said I was invited over thanksgiving). And then finally last week he asked if I wanted to join him.

I said I would have to see due to work. My team is only three people, plus one in training and one is already gone for most may so I had to check and see about coverage and making sure we could have two people out of the country at the same time. But he seemed to take it has a hard no. Bought his flights and started booking things but then would like show me his family Airbnb? And he’s going before he’s family for extra time and I’m still not sure if he’d want me to join just him or him and his family.

We then had this exchange

Which was especially annoying because he makes such a big deal about going for long enough to make the flight worth it. And had asked me after Japan about how he bet I wished I was there for longer. After I only joined him for half when he specifically only asked if I wanted to join for part.

And with the initially suggested dates it’s still not clear if he really wants me to join for the part with his family too. And like if you don’t could you just say so? Like I get that that’s kind of a hard thing to say and he might be kind of on the fence about it himself, but like I am asking this question of you point blank. And if there’s things being booked than the number of people going matters so you can just say that to.

I’ve also been feeling kind of wishy washy about the relationship as a whole lately but I’m unsure if that’s really the relationship or just general January SAD. Or just like that new relationship energy wearing off so it feels less fun in comparison. Like everything is fine but also boring and I keep getting my feelings hurt over dumb shit and crying over nothing, but nothing related to him. And I’m just not sure if I’m having enough fun to balance out the random crying. And yea everyone says relationships are hard and there’s nothing bad about it, but like why bother being in a relationship and putting in the work when I could just be single and not do that. Like is weekly sex and twice weekly dates really worth all this? And they say you’re supposed to date your best friend, and even after a year I don’t think I’d say that. He’s my best male friend for sure but that’s hardly a high bar. And idk it feels like it’s mostly a me thing and I don’t want to throw away a good thing just because I’m bored or am having unrealistic expectations of relationships. But I also keep questioning if I would be happier single. But maybe this is just the inner work required to be happy in a relationship and just because it’s not all sunshine and rainbows doesn’t mean it’s bad. But I also can’t keep randomly crying.

And then there’s the fact that I’ve already been to Italy. And while it would be fun to go again in some ways I’d rather go somewhere else. Like there’s a horseback riding trail in Portugal that I’ve been looking at for years and I could do that instead in October. But probably not both as I do not have unlimited money or vacation time. But he is really nice to travel with and Italy would be awesome. I last went in high school so it would be very different.

[dan-crimes]

I love writers I love when they ramble on abt characters and their motivations, their core values and the reasons why they react to things in certain ways and having character interactions work off of each other due to their differing ways of viewing the world and in general I just love character analysis

[cazshmere]

12th House Synastry and the Blockages Faced in the Relationship (Planet Overlays)

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER‼️: This explanation is mainly from the perspective of the planet person, but the feelings and experiences described might also resonate with the house person. Both sides may find some relevance in these observations. Please note that this focus is solely on the negative outcomes of these synastry placements. There are undoubtedly beautiful and positive elements that can arise from these connections as well so take these with a grain of salt. These are just my personal observations and are meant for entertainment purposes only; it may not resonate with everyone due to the nuances of astrology. Please respect my work and avoid copying or stealing it. Enjoy reading!!

Sun ☀️ : With this synastry, the Sun person feels that their true personality is restricted or blocked. They don’t understand why or how the house person perceives them in a way that is far from who they actually are. Sensing the house person’s apprehension towards them, they might try “switching personalities” to appeal to or be accepted by the house person, driven by a need to please them. The Sun person feels misunderstood and is unsure why the house person doesn’t see them the way they want to be seen. The sun person could also be some sort of enemy disguised as a friend to the house person.

Moon 🌙 : With this synastry, the Moon person’s true feelings and intentions may seem hidden or concealed for various reasons. The Moon person might feel the need to put up a front to appeal to the house person and gain their acceptance. This can also manifest as the Moon person harboring negative feelings towards the house person but pretending to enjoy their company, reflecting the restriction of their true emotions. This dynamic can lead to a lack of genuine emotional connection and increase misunderstandings. A lot of jealousy also comes into play with this synastry

Mercury 🗣️ : As I'm focusing more on the negative side of this synastry, I have to point out that this is a major red flag placement 💀💀. Communication, which is crucial in any relationship, is significantly blocked here. The Mercury person might withhold their thoughts and intentions due to fear of how the house person will react. This could also involve the Mercury person bad-mouthing the house person or even snitching on them, while putting up a front and pretending to be all buddy-buddy with them. With communication being a barrier, this can also manifest as a language barrier or misunderstandings between the two, leading to further communication problems.

Venus 🩵 : Ahh, the planet of love being in the 12th house 😭—very iffy. With this placement, love is literally blocked in this synastry due to unfortunate circumstances. This could mean that the Venus person doesn't know how to be lovey-dovey with the house person and ends up being rude, though in a more playful way, as Venus tends to be gentler. The Venus person might feel that the house person won’t accept their love and as a result starts “teasing” or “playfully bullying” them as a subtler way of expressing themselves. Since the Venus person can’t externally express their love, they turn these feelings inward, leading to the creation of fake scenarios. In these scenarios, they are genuinely expressing their love for the house person, and what plays out in these fake scenarios is what they actually want to portray in real life but are somehow unable to. The venus person also feels that the house person might not understand the way they love and that’s why they end up not expressing themselves openly and that’s where unrequited feelings and love occurs. You will never know unless you try right?

Mars ❤️‍🔥 : Lmao, this one is the most interesting! As we know, Mars is the planet of initiation and motivation. When Mars falls in the 12th house, it blocks any chance for progression - be it physically, mentally or emotionally. Mars is a very instinctual planet, and being placed in the 12th house can lead to confusion about their true instincts. The Mars person might doubt themselves and try to pull back to avoid overstepping any “boundaries”but the mars person often takes the idea of "overstepping boundaries" a bit too literally and ends up not making any move at all. Contact is blocked. This has to be one of the worst synastries because if contact itself is blocked, how can a relationship even be formed? It blocks all the areas such as the development of love, feelings, communication, etc.

Jupiter 🧿 : This placement is comparatively easygoing, but as we focus on the hindrances in this synastry, it can present some challenges. Jupiter represents expansion and abundance, but when it falls into the 12th house, it amplifies themes related to spirituality, mysticism, spirituality, etc. While one of Jupiter’s natural traits is the art of bringing joy and luck into wherever it lands, this can manifest as the Jupiter person bringing immense joy and luck to the house person. However, the Jupiter person might come across as excessively optimistic, which the house person may find confusing or overwhelming. This difference in outlook can leave the Jupiter person feeling let down because the house person doesn’t share their perspective or beliefs. As a result, the Jupiter person might hold back their optimism and viewpoints to better ‘connect’ with the house person on a higher level.

Saturn 🪐 : With this synastry, discipline and structure are blocked. The Saturn person may feel off balance and unstable when they’re with the house person. The house person might have a very fluid and mutable way of living, which is probably something the Saturn person struggles with or entirely opposes. However, with 12th house synastry, there is often a need for pleasing and acceptance from both parties. As a result, the Saturn person might bend their own rules and try to go with the house person's “flow,” but they won’t feel comfortable doing so because it creates a sense of imbalance in their life.

Neptune 🧜🏼‍♀️ : This placement is quite tricky and can be confusing. Neptune, the planet of dreams and illusions, falls in the 12th house, which can block a clear sense of reality. The Neptune person might find their ability to perceive the house person’s true nature clouded, leading to misunderstandings or unrealistic expectations. The house person may feel like their true self is hidden or misunderstood, and the Neptune person could struggle with setting clear boundaries or distinguishing between fantasy and reality. This can create a foggy dynamic where both parties have a hard time grasping the other’s true intentions and feelings.

Pluto ⚡️: This placement can be intense and transformative, but it also comes with its hurdles. Pluto is all about transformation and power, and in the 12th house, it blocks the ability to fully experience or enact personal change. The Pluto person may find it difficult to navigate deep transformations within the relationship, leading to feelings of being stuck or unable to evolve. This can manifest as unresolved issues or hidden power struggles. The house person might struggle to understand or support the Pluto person's need for transformation, leading to a dynamic where growth feels obstructed and hidden tensions simmer beneath the surface.

Uranus 🛸 : This placement brings a unique set of challenges. Uranus represents uniqueness and innovation, but when it falls in the 12th house, it blocks the ability to fully express or embrace individuality. The Uranus person might feel stifled or unable to showcase their unique qualities in the relationship, leading to feelings of frustration or alienation. They might struggle with feeling accepted for who they truly are, and their innovative ideas or unconventional traits could be suppressed. This can cause the Uranus person to feel disconnected from the house person, who may not fully appreciate or understand their uniqueness.

banner/pic credit : @/crisscreen and @/only-ranpo

© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]

[targaryenimagines]

A Gentle Flame

Dark!Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6,701

Summary: After months of trying, you are finally able to give something back to your Khaleesi that she never thought she’d have again — an heir to not only House Targaryen but the Iron Throne. You just aren’t sure how you’d like to reveal the good news to your beloved; taking solace in your dearest friend’s company as he tried to help you in revealing the truth. Of course, you should have known that your dragon’s possessive fire would never be quenched — not even for Grey Worm.

Warning(s): G!P Daenerys, jealousy/possessiveness, and pregnancy.

Notes: Can be seen as part of the “My Khaleesi” series, but can also be read as a stand-alone as well. Thank you to the wonderful @rain-mikaelson for this amazing idea!

Series Masterlist

“She doesn’t know?”

You don’t have to turn around to see, with picture perfect clarity, the confusion that must have been etched upon your dearest friends face. The thickening of his accent alone told you all you needed to know.

“No,” you reply, setting the brush you had been fiddling with firmly back in its place on your vanity. “I only just discovered it. I went to the Palace Healer after I missed my second cycle in recent months.”

The familiar sound of leather rubbing against sharpened metal echoes through the air — a telltale sign that he was processing what had been revealed — as you begin to fiddle, once more, with the brush you hadn’t needed since the conversation had commenced.

“And the Healer?” He hedges out the question, hesitation clear in his tone. “She won’t divulge anything to the Queen?”

“No, I made sure of that. The only way Daenerys will find out I’m pregnant is from my own lips and no one else’s.”

There’s a brief moment of silence. “Why tell me, Your Grace?”

Twisting around, so you’re finally staring face-to-face with your closest companion, you can’t help the small, albeit genuine, twist of your lips as you smiled at him. “Because you’re my closest friend, Grey Worm.” You wave a hand in the air, even as a melancholic twinge echoes within your heart. “Dany always had Missandei and I always had you.”

“And you still do,” he intones, clearly fighting through the wave of emotions that her name still invokes within him. “You always will, Your Highness. For as long as I shall live and be able to raise my weapon to the sky in your honor.”

You’re touched by the fierceness within his tone — not doubting, for even a second, the sincerity behind his words; Grey Worm would always protect you, would always be there — but the knowledge of what the upcoming days would bring, causes you to lean back against your vanity with a heavy sigh.

“I just don’t know how I’m going to break the news, Grey.” Running a frazzled hand through your hair, Grey Worm simply observes as you sort out the various thoughts whirling in your head. “The Summit is commencing in five days, the guests will be arriving in two, and you know how Daenerys has been planning this for months.” Your eyes raise to meet stoic brown. “I can’t have her know I’m pregnant until after.”

He tilts his head. “I would assume the Queen would be ecstatic to learn the news, Your Grace.”

“She would be,” you state, confident in that knowledge at least. “But, I can’t have that be what she’d focus on this week. Even if she’d pretend to be business as usual, we both know how Daenerys gets when even the slightest chance of my safety is in question. How do you think she’d react or behave, with all these unknowns arriving in King’s Landing, if she knew I’m with child?”

Grey Worm doesn’t respond, he didn’t have to, not when the last time your life had seemed to be in peril was still so fresh within both of your minds. You had been ambushed returning to the Red Keep after a day in the city, a couple of vagabonds testing their luck against Valyrian and Dothraki blades, it had ended quickly, but your darling wife had not taken the news of no major injuries lightly; not when things could of had a different conclusion. Daenerys had been on a warpath for weeks, refusing to let any stone go unturned, until everyone she deemed responsible for such a fuck up was punished accordingly; whether that be the genial blacksmith that had sold them their weapons, the proprietors of the tavern the vagabonds frequented and loudly discussed their plans, or the guardsmen themselves that hadn’t realized there was a threat before it was almost too late.

“She can’t know,” you stress. “Not when this Summit means so much to her.”

There’s a beat of silence, wherein your closest companion simply observes you, taking note of what feelings must have been flickering within your gaze, before he inclined his head, an imperceptible motion that only the people who knew him would be able to pick up.

“What will you have me do?”

“I wish for you to stay close, my love.”

It wasn’t a request, nor a question, by the steely undercurrent that lay within her tone, the diplomatic smile on her lips causing her eyes to strain with the force of keeping her emotions in check. You could tell that Daenerys had begun to tire of playing host to all the nobles, both of major and minor houses, that Westeros seemed so proud to boast. However, the end result of what this Summit could potentially do, collecting all of the major players within the Seven Kingdoms to witness the power that is House Targaryen, meant that she was allowing herself to be docile for the moment.

At least until the single House that caused her hackles to rise appeared.

House Stark moved as a singular unit, bringing truth to the old adage that its members were like a wolf pack, but the lone man leading met your gaze solidly with his own steely brown. An action that didn’t go unnoticed by Daenerys, nor the guard standing mere feet behind you both, and you could practically feel the air thicken with growing tension. Something that would have caused Daenerys to take up arms if she knew of the life I’m now carrying.

“Your Majesties.” A familiar gravelly voice greets, his head inclining to the both of you. “It’s a pleasure for House Stark to be invited back to King’s Landing.”

His sentiment was clearly not shared with the two women behind him — the shorter of the two looking like she was about stab someone and the taller one’s lips twisting in bitter distaste — but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Warden Snow,” Daenerys greets in return, her smile now almost looking like she was baring her teeth in warning; a sign of dominance that any wolf would know to back away from, unless it was a fight they were after. “I welcome you to the Summit with open arms. I do hope that the amenities within the Keep will be enough to sate you during the duration of your stay.” Violet eyes flicker to icy blue just behind him. “If there’s something you need, you’re more than free to find an attendant that will help you with any issue you may have.”

You stifle the urge to curse under your breath at Daenerys’ veiled insult. It was no secret that House Stark, namely the red-headed she wolf, was at odds with House Targaryen; ever since Daenerys had blatantly told them that the North would not be gaining any form of independence, siting there was no justification for it, as Daenerys had barely gained anything from the short alliance they had brokered during the Long Night. Nor did the North have anything to truly offer since The Wall fell.

It’s an argument that still caused an icy frigidity from members of House Stark now — one that Daenerys didn’t deign important enough to deal with at the present moment, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t ever watchful for what the scheming mutts could be cooking up in order to gain a modicum amount of power for their insipid region — which is why, due to their close proximity, you could feel the steady presence of Grey Worm at your back, his rigid posture even more tense than usual due to the news that only he, and the Palace Healer, were privy to. His close proximity is something you’re sure Daenerys has taken note of, if her varying glances throughout the night were anything to go by, but she was constantly pulled in different directions before she was able to speak the words that clearly wished to escape.

Although aware of your close relationship to the Captain of her Queensguard, she was also aware of Grey Worm’s unfaltering fealty to her and how he would never cross a line that Daenerys had drawn in the sand the moment she had claimed you as her own; you were off limits. The only time anyone should ever enter your personal space, barring her and your handmaidens, and even they had a tight leash to tread with, was if they were pushing you out of the way of immediate danger.

You had told Grey that his proximity would be a red flag to your wife, but his protective instincts seemed to not care as he stared impassively at the three individuals at the bottom of the dais you were standing upon.

Knowing that this could only go one way, if the looks that were being exchanged between Daenerys and the youngest Stark were anything to go by, you step forward, placing a gentle hand to the small of your wife’s back. “I believe it’s time to give your speech, Dany,” you murmur. “And we both know you don’t want to keep this crowd waiting.”

While Daenerys doesn’t turn to face you fully, you’re well aware that you have her attention, her body leaning against the palm of your hand, the simple touch soothing the roaring fire that might have been into a gentle flame.

“You’re right, ñuha perzys.” A gloved hand ghosts across your hip, but Daenerys keeps her gaze resolutely forward. “I’m afraid I must cut this rather delightful exchange short. It’s about the time that I should be addressing the room.” Violet eyes glint sharply. “Wouldn’t wish for anyone to think I favor House Stark.”

Crisis averted, you think, observing the whispered conversation between the three as they left to find their seats. For now.

A soft touch to your cheek causes you to almost jump out of your skin, the sight Daenerys’ concerned expression doing little to sate the racing of your heart. “Are you well, dearest?” Worry colors her tone, eyes flashing with a protective fire. “You’ve seemed preoccupied all night.”

“I’m fine, Dany.” You cradle the hand that’s currently still doing the same to your cheek. “It’s just been a long day. I’m anticipating when it’ll all be over and I’ll get to be alone with you.”

You could tell that your wife felt the same, but something still lurked in violet depths that you adored so much. Something that made you want to curse once more — sometimes you hated how perceptive your wife was, even if the knowledge that she observed you to the point that she could pick apart the very foundations of your moods set you alight with adoration, you couldn’t help but wish that Daenerys would let this slide.

“I’m anticipating the same,” Daenerys replies, stepping back to offer you her arm; a gesture that you accept instantly. “But, for now, we must be the royals that Westeros demands us to be.”

Keeping your gaze locked with the seat that’d be your home for the next few hours, you completely miss the look Daenerys sends Grey Worm as he diligently follows behind you, never missing a step, remaining your ever loyal shadow, and the way her arm tightens around yours that much more because of it.

“I truly don’t know why I haven’t killed them yet,” Daenerys mutters, running gentle fingers through the tangled locks of your hair. Violet eyes staring up at the ceiling of your shared bedchamber. “It’d be so easy then I could simply appoint a new Warden of the North that wouldn’t annoy me so.”

Huffing out a laugh, you rest your chin on Daenerys’ clavicle, staring at her with soft eyes, despite the topic at hand, and press a light kiss to the patch of the skin that was easily available. It was later, hours after the dinner had ended, with the moon hanging high in the sky, but, despite the weight of the day bearing down upon your shoulders, you couldn’t help but feel like you were floating; here, in this bed, with your darling dragon, tangled naked in the rumpled sheets of your marital bed.

“Because you don’t wish to deal with the hassle such an action will cause, beloved,” you reply, knowing that Daenerys would appreciate your insight. “You’ve already dealt with two wars in this infernal landscape as it is. There’s no reason to fight another so soon. Not so early into your reign.”

Tendrils of your hair curl around pale fingers, a soft look etched upon her face; an expression that Daenerys only leveled at you and Drogon. “So much knowledge hidden behind such a beautiful face.” She strokes your cheek, love speaking through every action and echoed in the look upon your own face. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, which is exactly why I wish to deal with those blasted mutts.” Her arm tightens around your naked form. “I don’t trust them, and I know they don’t trust me, nor do I think they’ll just let things go. They have a personal vendetta against me and I fear they’ll use you to rectify it.”

You nuzzle closer, comforted by your Khaleesi’s sweet scent. “We don’t know what the future may bring.” Some more than others. “But, I have hope that I’ll be protected.”

What was meant as a soothing gesture, an affirmation that Daenerys would always be able to keep you safe, seemed to have the complete opposite effect. Her pliable body going stiff against your own, hand halting its comforting movement, a sharpness entering her gaze.

“Dany?” You question, rising up onto your forearms to peer down at her. The silence settling over you like a thick blanket, a brooding entity that meant she was deep in thought, an elegant brow furrowed as she tried to corral her rampant thoughts. “What’s the matter?”

Finally, after another beat of tense silence, her eyes slip to meet your own. “Do you feel that confident with your security detail, ñuha perzys?”

“Yes?” Not understanding where this line of questioning was coming from you couldn’t help the slight lilt at the end of your answer. “Of course, I do.”

A stormy look falls across your wife’s face. “Really?” She straightens to lean against her pillow, now peering down at you. “You feel so confident when those very people almost got you killed by random mercenaries? I find that hard to believe.”

“I thought we went over this when it happened, Dany,” you sigh, finally sitting up to be on a more level field. Knowing now that you weren’t going to go back to snuggling anytime soon. “The two responsible for the oversight were dealt with, by your own hand if you recall, and the rest have more than made up for it. They won’t fail me or you again.”

“It was dealt with so swiftly due to my Captain straightening it out,” Daenerys snipes, arms crossed over her naked chest, the thin sheet having fallen around her hips sometime ago. “I don’t even want to imagine what those fools would have done without him.”

A small smile curls your lips. “Yes,” you agree. “Grey Worm did an excellent job at handling the situation. I’m thankful for his help and continued support.”

Your wife’s cheek twitches due to force in which she’s clenching her jaw, a sight that causes worry to bubble within your chest. Something had obviously set her off, but you couldn’t, for the life of you, figure it out. Leaning forward, you gently take Daenerys’ hand, releasing her white-knuckled grip on the sheet, and cradle it.

“But,” you continue, ensuring you maintained eye contact. “If it wasn’t for you, my darling dragon, I know that I would have been lost long ago. You’ve saved me from so much, Dany. You’re my constant protector, my most treasured companion, and my loving wife. I could never ask for, nor want, anyone else by my side, and I’m so thankful that I get to call you mine.”

The tender words, coupled by the unwavering sincerity in your voice, finally causes Daenerys to slacken, violet eyes going soft as a hint of embarrassment reddens her cheeks. Slim hands soon finding their way around your waist to pull you back into her embrace, head nestled in the crook of her neck, as she seems to simply breathe you in.

“I’m sorry, darling.” Warm breath ghosts across your skin, a phantom touch that raises the fine hairs on your arms. “I think the long days, coupled with being around boastful imbeciles constantly, has muddled my mind more than I would like.” Long fingers curl underneath your chin, tilting your head back just enough so you could see the beginnings of a smile curling full lips. “Even getting to the point where I thought you were hiding something from me.” Daenerys huffs out a laugh, clearly perplexed at herself, even as you feel your blood freeze in your veins. “And do you want to know the funniest thing?”

Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth, a suddenly dry throat trying desperately to make any sort of sound. “W-What?”

“I believed Grey Worm was in on it.” Daenerys rolls her eyes, scoffing. “I couldn’t help but notice how attentive he’s been of you as of late. Always being one step behind you at all times.” Lean arms, that hide a strength few were ever privy to, flex around your body, pulling you closer. “Can you believe I thought something was going on between you?”

Laughter bubbles in your throat at the outlandish insinuation — you could never want, or ask for, anyone else — but the strain around your eyes, as you desperately tried to keep it together, was apparent, but Daenerys, lost in her own thoughts, obviously trying to come to terms with how she could come to such a conclusion, didn’t notice.

You weren’t sure if that fact was fortunate or not.

Soon Daenerys, curled protectively around you, falls asleep, after a final whispered apology, her gentle breathing a soothing melody that you have grown to adore over the years you’ve spent in her bed. Normally, you’d be quick to follow your Khaleesi into the land of dreams, but her words, the thinly veiled accusations, the quickly shifted in self-deprecating jokes, kept the lull of oblivion from claiming your mind.

The very notion that you’d ever cheat on Daenerys was laughable — something that would never cross your mind, an annoying gnat that you simply swatted away without a second glance — but the knowledge that she believed you wouldn’t keep something from her unsettled you. Of course, you knew you had good reasoning behind your decision, but it still stung all the same; feeling like you were betraying your wife somehow.

Your wife didn’t have faith in many people — the ones she used to were either dead, imprisoned, or gone from her life in some other fashion — which left only a small handful left: Drogon, Grey Worm, and yourself.

The Summit will be over in three days. You just have to hold out for three more days.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you force the thoughts, and the feelings they invoke, from your mind as you nuzzle closer to your wife; heart aching when she instantly brings you closer in response.

Just three more days, my love, you think, pressing closer. Three more days and then I can tell you the news that we’ve both been so desperate for. Just three more days…

It never seemed like such a large amount of time before.

Guilt, you learn, did not go well with pregnancy.

You weren’t able to be around Daenerys for long after that night — knowing what you did and what you were keeping from her — which was something that could easily be explained due to how hectic the daily life usually was in King’s Landing; now multiplied even further due to the Summit. Feigning different duties around the castle was simple, even if you missed your wife terribly during the long hours apart, that ache was easier to handle then the one that erupted every time you looked into her soft gaze.

The guilt, coupled with your own growing symptoms of your condition, caused your stomach to twist constantly, ensuring that you spent a large portion of the day keeled over a bucket with Grey Worm standing watch.

Of course, after the first day, when you only greeted Daenerys with a fleeting kiss to the cheek, and an airy greeting mixed soon after with a brief farewell, your wife began to grow concerned, her gaze often seeking you out within the crowded room of nobles and dignitaries. Uncaring of anyone that may be trying to talk to her, her attention focused solely on you alone, something you wouldn’t normally mind, except for the simple fact that you’d sing like a canary if she leveled you with inquisitive look one more time.

You hadn’t come this far to mess up on the last day of the Summit; the final meeting being hosted in the Dragon Pit, recently reconstructed to an echo of its former glory. Although your darling son refused to even grace the structure with his presence unless it was to deliver you and Daenerys.

“Are you feeling well, Your Grace?” The familiar presence settled a half-step behind you, his accented voice a relief over the miasma of varying conversations that were occurring as people prepared to head over to the Dragon Pit. “Do you require anything?”

“No,” you reply, side-stepping an obviously over encumbered stable hand, as you spot the hulking obsidian mass that was Drogon; the people unfortunate enough to have left their things where he decided to land were scuttling around him like frantic ants, his own expression one of boredom if it was ever possible for a reptilian face to showcase such an emotion. “I’ll be fine for now. Thank you, Grey.”

At the sound of your approaching voice, Drogon swings his head in your direction, crimson eyes lighting up in recognition, as a gentle croon rumbles from deep within his chest. The people around him pause their activities, afraid that he may lunge any second, but your son didn’t pay them any mind. Instead, he lowered his head to give you easy access to scratch the underside of his chin, pebbled scales warm against your cool fingers.

“I’ve missed you too.” You smooth your hand out against his jaw, an adoring smile on your face. “Need to make sure that I carve out more time to see you in the future.”

You can’t even begin to imagine how lonely he must feel — what was once three was now only one — if the ache in your chest was anything to go by it must be difficult; something you didn’t wish for your son to go through alone.

A son, you quickly notice, that was now pressing his snout against your stomach, a low rumble sounding from deep within his throat, not unlike the croon he released earlier, but this, coupled with the protective glint in his fiery gaze, made you understand, with perfect clarity, that Drogon knew. That he had no doubt about the life you were now carrying.

“I know that you and your mama have this special connection,” you whisper, scratching his jaw. “Like the one that I shared with Viserion, but you can’t give her any hints about what you’ve discovered.” Crimson eyes flicker in understanding, his intelligence shining through. “Do you think you’ll be able to hold your protective instincts back for the day, Drogon?”

You knew, even as you asked, that it would be like asking Daenerys the same exact thing. Something that causes your stomach to twist once more. You could play off Grey Worm’s presence and increased vigilance, as he had been appointed to your guard until competent ones were found, but Drogon? Your wife would instantly be able to tell that something was happening, and it probably wouldn’t take her any time at all to discover what it was.

Which meant that you wouldn’t be able to fly with Daenerys to the Dragon Pit; something you had been looking forward to as it’d give you a chance to be with your wife, soaring over the city she had claimed, and may cause the growing suspicion to die within her gaze.

“Ready to go, ñuha perzys?” Daenerys’ lovely voice causes you to startle, wide eyes meeting her questioning one. “I believe we’ll be able to do a few laps around King’s Landing before the first people arrive at the Dragon Pit.” A charming smile catches your wife’s lips. “Giving us a chance to spend time with one another. I’ve missed you the last few days.”

The genuine statement causes your heart to twist, your stomach lurching, but you maintain your smile, hoping that you didn’t look as faint as you felt. “I was actually thinking of taking Nox.” You gesture to the dark stallion, his large stature easily seen over the fences of his stable. “Grey Worm has been meaning to show me something, and it’s on the way to the Dragon Pit, so I thought I’d just do both at once.”

While the genial smile doesn’t fall from Daenerys’ lips, the fire behind her eyes grows with intensity until it’s almost scalding across your skin. “Grey Worm?” At the mention of his name from his Queen’s mouth, the aforementioned man steps from his place in the shadows. Forever dutiful, even if it meant walking straight into the gaping maw of a dragon. “You wish to go with Grey Worm instead of me?”

Any other time the incredulous tone within your wife’s voice, causing it to turn almost shrill, would have made you chuckle, but you could see the darkness that was beginning to become apparent — one that had a propensity to turn lethal if it wasn’t dealt with appropriately — and you wanted nothing more than to chase those shadows away; to bring your wife back into the light.

Just a few more hours, you try to soothe yourself. Just a few more hours and this will all be behind you. You’ll be able to tell Dany and everything will right itself.

“Yes,” you reply, maintaining an air of obliviousness in hopes that Daenerys wouldn’t press the issue further. “Besides, I’ve been meaning to let Nox stretch his legs for some time now. You know how Dothraki horses can be, Dany. They’ll only get more irritable the longer they’re cooped up.”

Violet eyes shift from you, to Grey Worm, all the way to the aforementioned stallion across the courtyard, until they land back on you; the expression on her face made you glad that this would be the last day of the Summit, because you know that Daenerys was at the end of her patience, that she wouldn’t let you get away with this one. For now, as the sounds of various voices finally broke in through the haze of everything untold, and Daenerys allows herself to shift back into her queenly stature.

Even though, you knew, that it’d only take one more thing for the bow to break, and then nothing would keep her from finding the answers she’s seeking.

“Very well.” Her tone clipped, detached in a way that stings your heart, Daenerys easily mounts Drogon and stares down at you. “I hope that your journey to the Dragon Pit is fruitful, but do be prepared for the discussions that’ll take place once we return to the Keep.”

And, with those parting words, and one last gentle nudge from Drogon, Daenerys is in the air, soaring higher into the sky until she breaches the clouds. You wish, more than anything, you were with her and your son, but you know that this was the right course of action. Even if it felt like it was the absolute worst.

Grey Worm settles beside you. “I wasn’t aware there would be more talks after the meeting held at the Dragon Pit.”

“There isn’t.” Your stomach twists, meeting concerned brown eyes with a grim expression. “That was a direct summons for me, and only me, by my darling wife.”

The heavy doors of your bedchamber close with a sharp bang behind you, a sound that almost causes you to flinch if it wasn’t for the woman watching you from across the room garnering all of your attention instantly. Daenerys had already changed out of her court attire — wearing a simple dress instead of the black ensemble she had been wearing, the very one she had worn upon conquering King’s Landing — but she looked anything but relaxed.

“You’ve been avoiding me, dearest.” It’s not a question, simply a statement of fact, as Daenerys stalks towards you. “And I’ve been trying to figure out why. Why would my darling wife not wish to be in my presence? Why would my most cherished companion not wish to see me?” She’s closer now, close enough for you to see the rage that’s beginning to build in her slim form. “And do you know what I uncovered? The only possible reason I could come up with?”

You’re not going to like this. “What?”

“Guilt,” Daenerys snarls, lips pulling into a sneer. It’s clear she was trying to rein herself in, that her famous temper wished to unleash itself, but, even now, when she was at her breaking point, she’d never wish to turn it on you. Something that both breaks and reassembled your heart. “You’re guilty about something. To the point that you practically reek with it now. Of course, I truly don’t know what you could feel guilty about, until I remembered the conversation we had a few nights ago.”

Oh no…

She’s pacing in front of you now, a short line that doesn’t take her too far from you, but gave enough room to excise some of the energy bubbling within her. “A conversation wherein I explicitly told you that I believed you and Grey Worm were hiding something from me. Where you told me that I didn’t have to worry.” The sharpness in her tone, the accusation within her eyes, were like physical blows. “So, I truly don’t know what to believe. Should I believe my wife, who’s been pulling away from me, or should I believe my gut instinct and deal with the problem immediately?”

Your eyes snap to look at Daenerys, horror-stricken. “Deal with the problem? What in the Seven Hells do you mean by the that, Daenerys?” Stepping closer to your wife, when she doesn’t answer immediately, you can’t help the desperate lilt from entering your voice. “What have you done to Grey Worm? Did you do something to him? Answer me!”

“Begging for your lovers life already?” Anger twists her face, shrouding the deep love you know she has for you. “I haven’t done anything, but make no mistake that it means I won’t. I’m going to make that man remember that when you swear fealty to House Targaryen it’s for life, and there isn’t any room for dissenters.”

Lover?

An even more horrific realization strikes you like an arrow to the chest.

“You think he’s my lover?” Barring the complications that would already bring due to the environment Grey was raised in, you couldn’t even begin to comprehend him in that manner. Nor could you ever imagine wanting anyone else beside your wife. “No, Dany, no.”

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair and move to settle on the end of your bed. This wasn’t how you wanted to tell her — over a nice dinner, after a nice ride on Drogon, or simply curled up together in this very bed — but you had created this situation and now you had to go with where it’s led you. Looking up, taking note that Daenerys had trailed after you, a gentle smile curls your lips and you beckon your wife closer.

“Grey Worm isn’t my lover, Dany. Nor will he ever be. I know that things have been tense these last few days, but I never wish for you to think that I’d ever be unfaithful to you.” Taking her hand, you tug her pliant body closer, even if you could still see the tension within the rigidity of her shoulders. “You are, and will forever be, my first, my last, and my always.” You place a tender kiss to her clothed abdomen, leaning into her comforting warmth. “Why would I ever want anyone else when I have my Khaleesi?”

Slender fingers run through your hair, the familiar motion allowing your eyes to slip shut contentment. “Then what has been going on, ñuha perzys? You haven’t been yourself and I still have half a mind to take Grey Worm to the dungeons to get him to answer me.”

Looking up, resting your chin on her abdomen, you peer into the violet gaze that you adore. “You’re not going to do anything to Grey Worm, Daenerys. He hasn’t done anything except be a good friend to me and faithfully serve me to the best of his ability.” Standing up, you easily maneuver Daenerys to settle in the position you had just been in, now looking down at your beautiful wife. “Which is something you’ve desperately wanted for me, if I recall.”

“Not if it means that I’m kept in the dark about you.”

The petulant pout causes a tender expression to fall across your features, love and adoration sparking within your heart, as you look at the woman that could turn the world to ash in an instant melting into your gentle touch. And, in that moment, you knew it was time.

So, without preamble, you take one of her hands and gently place it on your abdomen in return. “I didn’t wish to tell you until the Summit was over because it was too important to screw up, and I’m well aware how you get when my health is involved.” Your fingers ghost across her sharp jawline, watching as the beginning of her understanding begins to spark within her gaze. “Add our unborn child’s health too? The Summit would have ended like a Dothraki Wedding if you had your way, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

There’s a beat of silence wherein Daenerys digests the news, a multitude of emotions flickering across her face, before complete and utter jubilation takes its prominent spot.

“You’re pregnant?” Her hand presses gently against the spot you had placed it, wanting to get closer to the life that lay within. “We’re going to be parents?”

You grin. “We’re having a baby, Dany.”

Before you know it, you’re wrapped in the tightest embrace Daenerys had ever given you, happy tears staining the skin of your neck as she nuzzles closer. You’re well aware that she was going to have a talk with you about your secrecy at a later date, especially given the fact that Grey Worm knew before her, but, for now, she was content in simply holding you in her arms, the both of you sharing in the happiness the moment brought.

“Drogon won’t be alone anymore.” Violet eyes look down at your abdomen with utmost affection. “He’ll finally have a sibling again.”

You press your forehead against hers. “The dragons will be returning to Westeros, my Khaleesi, and the skies will once again be filled with dragon song.”

“And everyone will know the power of House Targaryen.”

“Yes,” you murmur, pressing your lips to hers in a chaste embrace. “As well as the woman who leads them.”

“The women,” Daenerys gently corrects. “For I’d still be lost if I didn’t have my darling Queen by my side.”

“And I’d never know that I was cold without the gentle flame of your love keeping me warm.” You lean into her touch, pressing your bodies firmly together. “You brought me to life, Dany, and I’ll never take the love you’ve given me for granted.”

Daenerys smiles. “Together we will bring back what has been stolen from my family, we will right the wrongs that have plagued this land, and we’ll ensure that our children will be able to reap the benefits once we’re done.” She smooths her hand across your abdomen. “Even if it means Fire and Blood will be paid in penance to make it happen.”

“Together.”

For one couldn’t be without the other — the Khaleesi and her Queen — as it always should be.

[flowerandblood]

The Taste of Desire (AU)

[ dom!modern • Aemond x friend sister • female ]

[ warnings: sex with soft domination, fingering, smut, angst, sexual tension, remorse, doubts related to sex work ]

[ description: Aemond works as a professional dom, fulfilling the various fantasies of his female clients − however, he guards his privacy and does not enter into any relationships with them, recognizing that he does not want or need it. One of his clients surprises him with her behaviour, making him experience something he has never felt before, with his own actions and emotions slipping out of his control. Sexual tension, doubts related to sex work. ]

This oneshot is an alternative universe for my series The Taste of Shame in which Aemond meets the main character as his client. It shows how their lives would have turned out and what their first time would have been like if Aemond had done it for money. Created to celebrate my anniversary on 22 March.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

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

My other series: Masterlist

_____

He was never picky when it came to his female clients. They had to meet basic standards like hygiene, no venereal diseases and they couldn't go beyond a certain time, but once they signed a confidentiality clause, what he was going to do with them was no longer important to him.

He kept repeating to himself that he was there for them, not them for him, so he focused on giving them what they wanted in a way that didn't disturb his comfort zone.

He did not allow them to kiss or touch him with their hands − in fact, he preferred that any involvement they had in what was happening was minimal. What he found most pleasing in the whole act was his violence towards them, and the more they consented to, the more he was satisfied.

Their pleas and cries of pain combined with some subconscious pleasure that such sadomasochism gave them made him struggle to hold back the mocking smile that pressed against his lips.

They wanted to be treated like worthless objects, and that's what he was giving them, because that's exactly how he thought of them.

He didn't try to delve into considering what he thought of himself, because he decided that would end up with a visit to a psychiatrist. He was studying quantum physics, lived far away from his family and needed a steady, high source of income − since silly girls could make money from sex cams, he could make money that way, at least until he had no other prospects.

The only way to contact him was through an online form on his website, where they would write why they wanted to meet, indicate what suited them or not, and if he felt he could meet their whims, he would arrange to meet them to discuss the details and sign the documents.

Scrolling through dozens of similar messages about tying, gagging, beating and humiliation he stopped on one where only a few things were marked. He thought surprised that he wouldn't even link them to aggressive domination per se, and certainly not the kind he usually used.

Good morning. I've been thinking a lot lately about what I'd like to try, but I'm also a bit embarrassed about it. I don't know if this can be subsumed under your interests − I'm completely inexperienced, so maybe that's why I'm looking for a professional who knows what he's doing and would be able to show me what I actually need and want. I apologise for the rather chaotic explanation and send my regards. Selected practices: spanking, verbal domination, fingering

He blinked and scratched his chin, both intrigued and uncertain at the same time − he glanced quickly at her age and saw that she was younger than him. He bit his lower lip feeling that something in the idea that she was still inexperienced and only willing to explore her needs attracted him, the thought that this would be some sort of challenge for him.

He decided that why not.

She was an adult.

He looked forward to meeting her with the utmost curiosity. Her requirements were basic enough that he didn't need to prepare any extra kinks, and since she didn't want sex with penetration, it also gave him a greater sense of confidence and peace of mind − he knew he wouldn't have to chase his orgasm, imagining some woman from porn, and would be able to concentrate only on what he was doing to her.

When he heard a quiet knock on the door of the flat he rented only to meet his female clients, he got up immediately from behind his desk and opened it for her, swallowing hard as his gaze involuntarily swept over her figure and stopped on her face.

God.

This was not what he had expected.

She looked even younger than she had written; her eyes were big and bright, looking at him with fear and dread, though usually the women who came to him, learned by experience, kept their gaze meekly on the floor, waiting for him to command them to look at himself.

She was dressed in a plain white Tshirt and high-waisted jeans, a fabric coloured backpack on her back, her hair loose, shiny, dark, slightly wavy − he could smell the fruity scent of her perfume or shower gel.

He grunted quietly, trying to keep a stony face, feeling that involuntarily his gaze expressed shock. He took a few steps back and invited her in − she stepped inside uncertainly, turning away quickly as he closed the door behind her.

"Come in. Do not be afraid." He said lowly, pointing to his desk which stood in the deeper part of the flat − she walked in that direction, looking in horror at the bed standing on the other side of the room.

He heard her swallow hard, tense and red, pulling her backpack off her back − she placed it in her lap immediately after she sat down in the chair opposite him, as if trying to ward off and protect herself from him in this way.

He took his seat on the other side and tapped his index finger on the top of his wooden oak desk, thinking that he had never had a client like her before.

She was completely distracted, her gaze sweeping across the room as if she were a curious child, her fingers tightening on the material of her rucksack.

"As I mentioned, first the contract and confidentiality clause." He said calmly, handing her copies of the contract and clause he had sent her earlier.

She took them from him and looked into his eyes again, making him swallow hard; it wasn't a defiant look and it wasn't meant to seduce him. It seemed to him just the opposite − she wanted to show him that some part of her was genuinely afraid of him.

She nodded, her hands trembling all over as she took the sheets of paper in her hands − she looked around quickly and clumsily grabbed a pen.

He wondered, seeing what was happening to her, if what she wanted was really good for her and although he never meddled in his clients' decisions, he decided to intervene, for her sake and his own.

"You can still resign. I won't burden you with the cost." He said lowly, watching her closely, and saw that she flinched all over. She lifted the gaze of her bright eyes to him, her eyebrows arched in indecision, her mouth opened and closed as if she was trying to get something out of herself.

"I…I think I want to try. This one time. Do you think it's a bad idea, sir?" She asked him in a trembling, soft, girlish voice. The note of innocence that lurked in this after all defiant question made him twist in his seat, feeling surprised that his manhood swelled a little − he felt like he was literally burning her with his gaze.

He thought it was because she was so vulnerable − it turned him on that he was more experienced than her and had real control over what could happen next if she wanted it.

He chuckled involuntarily at her words, shaking his head, sighing quietly, looking at her indulgently.

"What I think about it doesn't matter." He murmured lowly, leaning comfortably against the back of his chair with a loud creak of wood.

He felt heat in his lower abdomen at the thought of her not dropping her gaze, boldly staring him in the face as if they had known each other for a long time, despite the fact that most women knew their buttocks would be red and swollen like tomatoes for such insolence.

"I would, however, like to hear your views on the matter, sir." She replied quickly, as if she recognised him as some sort of authority on the matter, a sexologist or anyone else who could give her a diagnosis.

"I am not a doctor. However, I don't think there is anything wrong with trying under controlled conditions. You also have a safe word that you can use at any time to stop whatever I'm doing. You have to decide." He said finally, and saw her nod her head, drawing in air loudly as if gathering her courage, and leaned over, signing the documents in the spaces indicated.

For some reason he involuntarily licked his lips, dried from some kind of excitement, his cock twitching hard in his trousers at the thought that she was really going to do this.

When she finished he took the papers from her, signed them and gave her one copy, reminding her of all the rules they had agreed and what she could not do.

"You can't touch me or kiss me. When we start, you are to call me sir and follow all my instructions. You are to answer all my questions by shaking or nodding your head unless I order you otherwise. I will not stop even if you beg me or cry until I hear your safe word which, please remind us, sounds how?" He asked softly, stapling the papers she had signed with a stapler, tucking them into his drawer, watching her out of the corner of his eye, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen at the very thought of what he was going to do to her.

Why was he so aroused when he hadn't even touched her yet?

"Peach." She muttered embarrassedly, looking down at her hands.

For a moment he wondered if he should add the rule he usually made where a woman couldn't look him in the eye, but something in her eyes captured him − her gaze wasn't seductive or filled with feelings he didn't want to see. He also guessed that forbidding it might overwhelm her even more, and he didn't want that.

He nodded at her words, rising, and she rose with him, holding her backpack in front of her, her shoulders raised slightly in a defensive gesture, as if she was afraid of him and the fact that she had somehow given him control over her.

He approached her slowly, looking at her vigilantly − her eyes fixed on his face as his hand took the rucksack from her arms in a gentle motion, dropping it next to her on the floor. His fingers rose to her cheeks, trailing over them, her jaw and her chin − he felt her tremble all over, surprised, her swollen, plump lips red with emotion.

Although he had never done this, he wanted to get a good look at her first − he knew that going straight to putting his hand in her panties would only frighten her and in this situation his tactics had to be a tad different.

First and foremost, he wanted to reassure her.

He saw that she had closed her eyes, trying to breathe slowly through her mouth as his hands slid down to her neck and her soft hair. He thought, smelling her fruity scent, that he would have given anything to have her kneel before him and take his achingly hard manhood into her mouth.

He decided that perhaps he would use his thoughts to embolden her a little more and let him do what he wanted.

"Such a sweet girl. You have no idea what I'd like to do with those lips." He hummed, feeling a shiver pass through her as one of his hands rose higher again, to her face, parting her lips with his thumb. "How hard I am now."

He saw the shock in her gaze, which quickly escaped down to the bulge in his trousers, her cheeks flushed as she looked up into his face again, her breathing quickened and ragged.

He sighed involuntarily at the sight.

"You can say a lot of things about me, but not that I'm a liar. Open." He commanded in a slightly cooler, stricter tone, her lips immediately parted slightly, allowing his thumb to slide deep between her fleshy, wet lips.

"Suck." He instructed, a quiet moan caught in her throat, her body suddenly quivering as the fingers of his free hand slid lower to her breast, teasing her nipple in calm, circular motions, her lips tightening around his thumb, obeying his command.

"Do you always walk around without a bra? Hm? Do you like it when men look at them?" He muttered warningly, pulling lightly on her nipple, looking at her curiously − she squirmed helplessly, closing her eyes, not knowing what to do with her hands. He could see how, in some subconscious reflex, she wanted to lift them up and embrace him, but reminded herself that she couldn't do that and lowered them again, moving him in some way and arousing him at the same time.

He couldn't remember if his client had ever made him completely hard by her behaviour itself.

"Quiet. We haven't even started properly yet, and already you want me to slap your arse?" He growled mockingly, and she shook her head quickly, drawing in air loudly, looking at him with a pleading look of her big, bright eyes, which he felt between his thighs as his cock swelled unbearably, demanding attention.

"This is my last warning. Lie on your stomach." He said coldly, although inside he felt like his body was on fire.

She obediently pulled off her shoes and lay down on the bed, watching, embarrassed, as he slipped his thumb, moist with her saliva, between his lips and licked it. He quickly pulled off his sweatshirt and shoes, leaving in his black short-sleeved T-shirt and trousers, fixing his hair with a careless flick of his hand.

"Leave only your panties on." He added, hearing her quiet squeal as his large hand gave her one, light, sharp smack on her buttock, just as an encouragement to keep her going.

"Just like that. So pretty." He hummed, watching her undress, climbing onto the bed behind her. He involuntarily licked his lips and grinned in amusement when he saw that underneath her trousers she was wearing pretty lace panties in powder pink.

He thought she was like a lollipop or candy, a sweet little gift bought just for pure pleasure.

As she pulled off her t-shirt she clung with her breasts to the bedclothes, looking somewhere sideways towards the window as if she was afraid of how exposed she was, that she was lying half-naked in front of a strange man who, on top of that, she was going to have to pay for it.

Although he cursed himself for it in the back of his head, the sincerity and naturalness of her behaviour endeared her to him − he thought in disbelief that he wasn't sure that even if she had asked him to punish her more harshly or to cause her intense pain he would have been able to do it.

Would it give him pleasure.

He took her hair aside, exposing her long neck and back, felt her shudder all over as his fingers ran along her spine.

"Are you going to be good, or should I tie you up?" He murmured and she nodded quickly − he hummed under his breath, stroking her bare skin. "Use your words."

"I'll be good. Sir." She added quickly, hearing him shift suddenly in irritation. He let out a loud breath through his nose, leaning down, grasping her wrists in his hands, placing them on either side of her head, showing her the position he expected her to hold them in.

"Your hands are supposed to be here at all times. On the pillow. If I see you take them away from here, I'll tie you up and on top of that, I'll give you ten slaps on the bottom to make sure you remember this lesson well. Do you understand? Use your words." He hissed, driving his fingers into the skin of her wrists, heard her swallow hard and nod her head quickly.

"− y-yes, sir −"

He gasped softly, pleased with her answer and the way it was going − he saw her hands tighten on the material of the pillow as he settled his knees on either side of her buttocks, lowering himself onto them so that she could feel his cock throbbing all under the material of his trousers. She stifled the cry that wanted to escape her lips by pressing her face against his bedding.

"− do you fucking feel it? − do you feel what you're doing to me? −" He muttered, trying to calm his breathing, not knowing why instead of pulling himself together and concentrating on his task he was teasing her, making his manhood painfully hard − he clamped his eyelids shut when he felt her hips begin to buck uncertainly to the rhythm of his movements.

He decided that fuck it, he would do it the way he felt like it, breaking his own rules, knowing that unlike the other women, she really needed this.

His closeness.

She sighed loudly and her whole body trembled as he pressed his face against her soft, fragrant hair, crushing her with his own weight, his hands roamed over the skin of her bare shoulders and the sides of her waist as his nose slowly slid lower, down to her neck, his fingers slipped underneath her and tightened on her soft, plump breasts as his lips pressed against her bare skin.

He heard her start to pant loudly through her mouth, surprised as he was, surely imagining it differently, writhing beneath him, his fingers digging warningly into the soft skin of her breasts, his hot breath enveloping her ear.

"− lie still or we'll do it rough − spread your thighs −" He growled, his thumbs pressing and playing with her nipples. He spread her legs with his knees, making her breath catch in her throat − he could feel her heart pounding fast under his hands, his tongue ran over the bare skin of her neck, smelling the salty taste of her sweat and the sweet taste of her perfume.

"− you're already wet, hm? − shall we check? −" He sneered, sliding the palms of his one hand down her belly − he saw out of the corner of his eye that her fingers clenched tightly on the fabric of the pillow, her whole body stiffened, her head tilted slightly as his fingertips pushed the soft, soaked material of her underwear aside, sinking into her leaking, fleshy womanhood.

"− good God − look at you − all sticky and warm −" He gasped as his fingers began to tease and squeeze her clit lightly, giving her a few encouraging strokes from which helpless, muffled sounds tried to escape her throat − his hand let go of her breasts for a moment and slapped her buttock with all his might, reminding her that she was supposed to be quiet.

He didn't even notice when he started rubbing against her faster from the top, chasing his own fulfilment, completely aroused by what was happening to her, how she was responding to him.

He felt like his cock was about to explode.

"− moan for me − let me hear these sweet sounds −" He whispered in her ear, driving his fingers harder into the soft, leaking structure of her folds.

Moan for me?

What the fuck was that supposed to be?

He sighed when she cried out loudly, clenching her eyes, writhing all under him, again and again rubbing his sore cock with her buttocks. He felt ashamed that even though he was the master of the situation, it seemed to him that somehow it was she who was dictating how it looked, or rather his inability to treat her as he did his other clients.

There was something innocent about her, that her goal was not for him to humiliate her, beat her or hurt her, but for him to guide her, to show her what she really desired and what he could do with her body.

He thought, running his fingertips over her moist, hot slit, that perhaps this was what he had been craving deep inside himself all this time.

"− ah − please, sir −" She mewled helplessly, and he felt her words between his thighs. He licked his lips, trailing his fingers over her throbbing, weeping cunt, teasing her hard nipple with his other hand, each of his movements accompanied by the loud click of her moisture.

"− what are you asking me to do? − use your words −" He exhaled, feeling that he was embarrassingly close to climax himself, and wondered if he was going to cum in his own trousers for the first time in his life.

"− please − please, put it inside me −" She mumbled out and he swallowed hard feeling her buttocks rubbing against his cock.

He froze for a moment, running his fingers over her hot, leaking folds, fighting with himself, on the one hand wanting only this, on the other the contract was different and he never broke the terms he himself had agreed to and signed.

What if, afterwards, she found that she didn't want it and decided that he had raped her, go to the police with it?

This thought sobered his mind a little, though his whole body shuddered with disappointment, his two fingers suddenly forced their way inside her with her moan of pleasure.

"− I can't − you know I can't, don't you? −" He breathed out, pressing the tips of his fingertips into the fleshy structure of her muscles, searching for the spot hidden between them.

She shuddered all over when he felt it a moment later, his thumb trailing over her clit as his two fingers dug in between her slick folds with a loud click of her wetness − he felt her whole body tense in anticipation, again and again his fingers squeezed her the way she needed it.

"− I'll be good, sir − please − please − please − I'll be good −" She cried out, her sticky walls began to clench around his fingers, sucking them inside and he closed his eyes, imagining he felt it on his hard, aching cock.

How tight she was.

He'd never done this before and he knew he shouldn't, but for some reason he was desperate, his mind clouded by what he'd seen and what he needed.

He watched her face in disbelief, her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed with exertion, her lips parted sweetly in a loud, accelerated breath.

"We can do this, but on my terms. I'll just fuck you, nothing more. No money. Do you understand?" He asked her in a trembling voice, as if he wanted to make sure she understood, that it meant nothing to him, that she just turned him on too much and he wanted to take it out on her.

He saw her eyes open suddenly, fear and relief filling her gaze as she whispered just a few words without looking at him.

"Let me look at your face, sir."

He himself didn't know when he suddenly flipped her onto her back as his lips clung with a loud purr to her hard, swollen nipple, sucking and licking it − he heard her moan loudly, startled, making him lose his temper. His hands in a helpless reflex slid down to the button of his trousers and his zipper, releasing his erection quickly, he wasn't sure he had ever been so terrified and aroused at the same time.

He knew things had gotten out of hand and that he would regret it, but he couldn't deny himself, knowing that he would probably never see her again.

"Don't touch me. Do you understand? If you touch me, I'll stop and I'll slap your arse so hard you won't be able to sit for the next few weeks." He hissed, looking her straight in the face, reaching his hand into his pocket to pull out the condom −she merely nodded, her hands clenched on either side of her face, her swollen lips parted in a quick, uneven breath.

He looked at her pretty figure, her sweet, plump breasts, her flushed face, her hair in disarray, and thought helplessly that she was beautiful and that he would go mad if he didn't do this to her.

Never before had he put a condom over his length as quickly as he did then − with a quick, sure, impatient movement he slid her panties off her, already all wet with her moisture, grabbed her by her hips and pushed her closer, momentarily forcing her tight, leaking folds to let him inside her.

He didn't speak, because he didn't know what he was supposed to say either, ashamed of his own desperation as he pushed deeper into her with a sure, sharp thrust.

He began to pound into her as if he had completely lost his mind, fast and out of control − she threw her head to the side, writhing beneath him, moaning loudly, her walls wonderfully moist and hot, clenching on him so tightly that he struggled to restrain himself from cumming just yet, not wanting to humiliate himself.

"− oh God −" He muttered, looking at her as if through a fog, leaning over her, his hands found hers, her fingers clenched on them, seeking proximity − she looked up at him pleadingly, panting and quivering.

He suspected that never before had anyone fucked her at such a brutal, fast pace from which she couldn't catch her breath, her thighs spread wide before him in a gesture of trust, their bodies slapping against each other with the loud clicks of her wetness.

"− these idiots couldn't even fuck you properly, hm? −" He panted low and she only nodded, his fingers intertwining with hers in some subconscious reflex, as if he wanted to show her that he understood her, that she had a right to be disappointed, that he had no idea how any man could fail to give her what she needed.

"− my poor little baby − am I right? −" He breathed out and she cried loudly and nodded her head, something in her gaze, in her eyes flooded with tears, filled with despair, tenderness and relief made him lean lower and cling to her lips.

She moaned loudly into his throat and he felt her walls squeeze him tightly with a sudden, intense orgasm, sucking him inside as his tongue invaded between her lips. She reciprocated his kiss with such devotion that a few of his helpless, sloppy thrusts were enough to make him cum into the condon.

"− fuck − fuck, baby −" He breathed out into her mouth as if she was his, as if they were in his bed in his flat, as if he loved her and was about to have dinner with her or go to sleep lying next to her, as if she wasn't a stranger to him, her sweet scent, her innocent sounds and the taste of her mouth were all that filled his mind as he continued to rock his hips deep inside her.

Even though they had both came, they didn't stop kissing, their lips joining and pulling away from each other lazily with a loud click of their saliva, his hands roaming up and down her fingers, alternately stroking them and entwining them with his own again.

Something about what was happening between them, about this sudden, unexpected closeness calmed him and made him completely drift off.

He knew that she had wanted to touch and kiss him from the very beginning, but she still respected his decision and his rules.

And he, for some reason incomprehensible to himself, broke them for her.

He pressed his face to her cheek, panting along with her, unsure of what he should do now, distracted and ashamed that he couldn't help himself, that for the first time in his life he had overstepped the time and competence he should have given her.

And that wasn't good.

What if she thinks now that they are in love with each other, that maybe one day they will be together? If she starts writing to him and stalking him like so many women before her?

"I'm sorry." He heard her whisper and shuddered, snapped out of his reverie.

He opened his eyes and met her gaze, her hands still on either side of her head. He grunted quietly, horrified at how close she was, that he could smell her pleasant scent so intensely, her breath, the warmth of her body.

"I'm the one who should apologise. I behaved unprofessionally. I won't take money from you." He replied after a moment, and she shook her head, shocked.

"− n-no, why − I mean − after all, you did what we agreed to do − you gave me your time, I −"

"− you're not the kind of person who would enjoy a strong dominant-submissive interaction − you'd be terrified − you're worrying too much − probably those guys before me didn't ask you what you needed, hm? − that's what I thought − there's nothing wrong with you − that's my diagnosis −" He hummed, sighing heavily, lifting himself up on his elbows, placing a lingering, tender kiss on her forehead.

He slipped out of her gently with her quiet hiss of discomfort − he saw her press her lips together when he slided the shed condom off his manhood and tie it off, tossing it into the small bin standing next to his bed, zipping his trousers back up. He saw her reach with a trembling hand for her underwear and sighed under his breath, shaking his head.

"Wipe yourself well first, the tissues are lying on the table next to you. Don't you have underwear to change into?" He asked uncertainly, realising that this was usually obvious to the women who visited him, as it was to him, so he didn't warn her, thinking she would figure it out for herself.

She shook her head quickly and he sighed heavily, taking a bottle of water standing on the table, unscrewing it and handing it to her, seeing that she completely didn't know what she should do with herself now.

"− drink − you'd better just wipe yourself off and put your trousers on −" He replied and she nodded, red with embarrassment, taking a few deep sips of water without looking at him.

He turned away as she started to get dressed, running his hand over his face, recognising that he was an idiot and had completely lost his fucking mind, unable to forgive himself for fucking her even though their terms were different.

He shuddered as she approached him quietly − he thought terrified that she was going to try to touch him, maybe even thinking they were going to become lovers now, but she just held a bundle of banknotes in front of him, looking at him pleadingly.

"− I already told you I won't take it − keep it −"

"− I can't, after all −"

"− don't piss me off −" He growled, and she pressed her lips together, lowering her hand, swallowing loudly.

They stared at each other for a long moment in awkward silence to say the least − he grunted, combing his fingers through his hair, feeling that for some reason his heart was pounding like crazy.

What was happening to him?

"− consider it a gift − we both made each other feel good − right? −" He asked, as if he wanted to make sure he hadn't hurt her. She nodded and smiled softly, shyly, for some reason making him feel a squeeze in his throat.

He regretted that she had ever written to him.

He regretted that he had said yes.

He regretted that it had been so pleasant.

"− thank you − and I apologise again − I won't take up your time anymore − I wish you all the best − please take care of yourself and be happy −" She said finally, and he flinched, looking at her in disbelief − he felt that his lips were parted in shock as he looked at her dully.

He didn't know what to answer.

Only after a while did he get anything out of himself, feeling that she was due at least some perfunctory response.

"− it's me who's sorry − I also wish you all the best −"

She nodded and smiled warmly at him, before her trembling hand reached for her backpack and headed towards the door, opening it and disappearing behind it a moment later.

He looked at the bed, at the sheets where the mark of her body was clearly visible, the fact that she had just been lying there, that he had been deep inside her and had fucked her like he had never put his cock inside any woman before.

He went over there and just lay on his stomach, sinking his face into the pillow that was drenched in her scent.

For the next few days, his head was in a state of chaos − one part of him was afraid that she would reach out to him, that she would seek contact or a relationship with him, like so many women before her wanting to be special to him, to be the only one.

The other part of him was even begging for her to do it, for him to be able to free himself at last from the memories of what he had done to her, that she had broken something in him, that he couldn't look at the women who came after her.

He couldn't focus, he felt remorse, he couldn't even get aroused and he was so frustrated that, to the despair of his regular clients, he decided to take a break for a few weeks to cool down.

His friend from university, Robert, had already invited him to his birthday party a month earlier and although he didn't have the energy to go anywhere, he knew that afterwards he would be listening to him and Criston moan in class about how completely unsocial he was.

He figured that since it was only going to be a private party at his house, he might as well go there at least for a while so no one would accuse him of lack of effort.

When he stopped outside his house he got out of the car and decided to have a quick cigarette, tired and discouraged, knowing that sooner or later his savings would run out and he would have to go back to it, whether he wanted to or not.

Or find another, lower-paid job.

He sighed heavily, clamping his fingers over the base of his nose, closing his eyes, trying to calm himself. He heard movement beside him and the screech of brakes, lifted his gaze and froze when it became apparent that she had just sat down beside him from her bike, a wide smile on her lips as if she thought he was a stranger, only recognising him after a moment, her lips parted then in horror, panic in her gaze.

He stared at her, feeling his body freeze.

Fuck.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

"Oh God. Do you know Robert?" She muttered, and he swallowed hard, feeling a tightening in his throat at the thought that she could have been his friend's girlfriend.

"Yes. Fuck. And you?" He asked her quickly with some sort of accusation, from which she swallowed hard.

"I-I, I'm his younger sister. I went to get some candles, I didn't know…"

"It's okay. I'll just go home." He replied, taking a few quick puffs of his cigarette, crushing it with his foot, turning back towards his car.

"N-no, please. Are you Aemond? Did I guess right? Robert was telling me about you. How he's glad you're coming. That you rarely talk or go out somewhere as a threesome with Criston. It's good that we met here, we'll avoid an awkward greeting. Please, don't be embarrassed." She muttered, and he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face, heartbroken. They both shuddered when they heard a knock on the glass, Robert looked at them through the window and started waving at them, gleeful.

Jesus Christ.

They both headed towards her house, knowing that since he'd seen him, he couldn't run away anymore anyway. He was terrified that since she was Robert's sister, she was someone familiar, not a stranger, that this changed everything and nothing, his heart pounding like mad.

"Do you have a lighter?" She asked as they stopped in front of the front door and he shook his head, snapped out of his reverie, frowning his brow.

"What?"

"Do you have a lighter? Can you help me? I need to light the candles on his birthday cake." She muttered in a whisper as if someone might overhear them, and she was telling him an important secret. He sighed heavily and nodded, recognising that he must have been dreaming all this.

Robert greeted him with joy, all around them Criston, their family and a few of his high school friends, a whole group of people he didn't know and with whom he knew he wouldn't find common ground, and among them her.

He wished him well and gave him his present, but he was unable to focus − he met her terrified gaze, she was pointing her finger at him that she needed his help in the kitchen.

He followed her as if into the lion's mouth, watching from the side as she opened the fridge in the darkness, taking out a blueberry meringue. She sighed heavily, placing it on the table in front of him, only the lights of the street lamps around them.

"It looked better in the picture on the internet, but I did my best." She mumbled, as if she wanted to say anything that would lighten the atmosphere between them.

He felt like an idiot when their trembling hands touched as he handed her the lighter and swallowed loudly, watching as one by one the candles began to glow with the warm, bright light of the flame.

He wanted to ask her if something in her life had changed, if she now knew what she wanted and needed, if she thought about what had happened.

Was she thinking about him.

She picked up the cake when it was all ready and let the air out loud through her mouth, looking him straight in the eye.

"Let's go."

After singing a short 'Happy Birthday', Robert blew out all the candles, happy to announce that his little sister had remembered what cake he loved best, assuring everyone that it was certainly delicious.

They spent the whole party throwing surreptitious, embarrassed glances at each other − he had to empty a few glasses of strong Whisky to calm himself down, the alcohol relaxing him a little, though only seemingly, suppressing his fear, but making him start thinking about something else again.

He looked at her figure dressed in a modest mid-thigh summer dress, her hair, her face − saw the way she laughed, the way she talked to others and felt a squeeze in his throat at the thought that then, being with him, she wasn't pretending.

She really was like that.

Affectionate, open, sweet, kind.

Everything he wasn't.

He swallowed heavily at the thought, sad and embittered, taking another deep sip from his glass.

"How are you going to get home? Criston is staying the night at our house, why don't you stay too? It's late." Said Robert sitting down next to him on the couch, patting him on the back in a friendly manner, already himself relaxed by the considerable amount of alcohol his body had assimilated.

He swallowed hard, looking at his sister from afar, feeling that this was a very bad idea.

"Why not." He muttered, thinking that he was a moron for looking for trouble himself, and that if Robert found out what he'd done to his sister, he'd kill him with his own hands.

Criston and a few others occupied the upstairs rooms, and he suggested he could sleep in the living room on the couch, to which Robert agreed.

He hoped this would embolden her to come to him, as he himself would never have dared to knock on her door despite how desperate he was.

At the thought that he might feel her again, his manhood reacted with an enthusiastic, intense pulsing in his trousers.

He felt that he was drunk as he began to pull off his black tight turtleneck, managing it with difficulty, pulling off his shoes, laying down dressed only in Tshirt and trousers with a quiet sigh and covered himself carelessly with the blanket, listening.

Is she going to do it or not?

And even if she comes to him, should he agree?

He felt disappointment when an hour passed and nothing happened, silence all around him and the loud snoring of someone coming from the upstairs rooms, perhaps her and Robert's father. He sighed heavily, recognising that he had made it all up, that she was surely now ashamed of him and what she had done, trying to forget it.

He swallowed hard at the thought, feeling discomfort in his stomach, and closed his eyes, figuring he would try to get at least a few hours of sleep.

He shuddered and opened them again when he heard a quiet creak, as if someone was walking down the corridor above him, but he wasn't sure himself if it wasn't just his imagination. A shiver ran down his spine and his manhood swelled all over when he heard someone quietly walk down the steps.

Whoever this person was, however, she didn't approach him but walked through the living room to the kitchen.

He felt his heart start pounding like crazy when he caught sight of her silhouette in the darkness, dressed only in an oversized white Tshirt and light shorts − she walked over to the tap, took a glass from the drawer and poured herself some water.

Should he approach her or not?

What if she gets scared?

Fuck.

He didn't even know when he just picked himself up on the couch, for some reason doing it very slowly so that his movements couldn't be heard − he felt like a predator who wanted to get closer to his prey even though he didn't really intend to harm her.

As soon as he stood up he immediately felt the room around him spin, the pleasant, intoxicating warmth of the alcohol melting through his lower abdomen making him seem less terrified of what he wanted to do than if he had been completely sober.

When she caught sight of his silhouette out of the corner of her eye she almost choked on the water − she spat some of it into the sink coughing loudly, making him freeze motionless, afraid to approach her. She quickly wiped her mouth with her hand, looking at him with big eyes.

"My God, you scared me." She muttered pale, her pretty, smooth face illuminated by the warm light of the street lamps standing in front of her house.

He stared at her for a moment, thinking that perhaps it must all have been a dream after all, that the fact that she was standing in front of him was unreal, invented by his distraught, drunken mind.

"I'm sorry." He stammered, swallowing hard, standing a good distance away from her, fighting with himself not to look shamelessly at her bare legs and her nipples peeking through from under her T-shirt.

Again.

They stood for a moment in uncomfortable silence, both of them breathing embarrassingly loudly, as if each of them was reliving deep inside themselves the fact that they were seeing each other again.

And on top of that, in her brother's house.

"I didn't know you were his sister. I swear. I would never do that to you." He finally started to speak, to explain, although he didn't know why − he had the feeling that he was trying to get anything out of himself so she didn't go back upstairs to her room.

He heard her sigh quietly, stroking her bare shoulder with her trembling hand. She shifted from foot to foot in a nervous gesture, looking somewhere to the side, her lips parted slightly in an accelerated breath.

"I know." She whispered, and he felt a heat in his lower abdomen and a pleasant shudder at the thought that perhaps she wasn't misjudging him, that perhaps she wasn't disgusted by him at all.

"How do you feel? I mean − are you okay?" She asked in a trembling voice, as if she wasn't sure if she should be asking this kind of question. She glanced at him uncertainly, clearly wanting to check his reaction, he stared at her stunned, completely surprised by her question.

"− I… yeah, I guess − I mean, I'm on a break from − you know − from this − right now −" He muttered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his black trousers, looking at the floor, feeling ashamed and embarrassed for some reason.

It's because of you, he wanted to say.

I did it for you.

"Something happened?" She asked after a moment, playing with the fingers of her hands in a nervous reflex, as if she was afraid of what she would hear.

"− yes − I mean − I have doubts − I always had, but now… they've intensified − you know −" He muttered, shrugging his shoulders, feeling the tightness in his throat and stomach growing stronger, his heart pounding like mad, cold sweat running down his back.

I'm just a whore, he thought.

I sell myself for money.

She nodded her head quickly so he knew she understood.

"− I'm sorry −" She said quietly, and he looked at her dully, not knowing why for some reason his lower lip trembled, why he felt a burning sensation under his eyelids.

He was ashamed that he desired her so much, that he wanted her words but also her body, wanted to fuck her first and then embrace her and fall asleep.

Was he treating her objectively? Was he only able to think about one thing?

Sex, sex, sex, sex.

He couldn't get anything out of himself.

He shuddered, drawing in air loudly as she came closer to him, in her gaze genuine fear and worry at his condition, questioning whether she could do anything for him, help him in any way.

He knew she longed to touch him − he saw out of the corner of his eye her hand rising to touch his shoulder but falling back after a moment, reminding himself that he never allowed anyone to invade his space.

He felt like screaming.

"− do you want to talk about it? −"

He wasn't sure he wanted to talk to anyone about it, but after a while he was sitting next to her on the terrace anyway, covered in a thick, soft blanket, sitting next to her on a rather uncomfortable wooden bench hanging by chains, which he rocked back and forth with involuntary movements of his knees, lighting a cigarette from his lighter with a quiet hiss of fire.

He took a drag and let the smoke out loudly through his nose, sighing quietly, just thinking about the fact that their hips and shoulders were touching.

"What did you think of me? After all this." He asked suddenly, swallowing loudly as he heard her twist in her place, throwing him a surprised, even horrified look. She sighed quietly, covering herself more tightly with the fluffy material.

"That you are a good man."

He felt his hand with the cigarette freeze in mid-motion as he was about to take another drag and for some reason he laughed in disbelief at her words, feeling a piercing pain in his chest, his eyebrows arching in amusement.

"That I'm a good man. Good God." He hummed, taking another drag − he could see she was looking down at her fingers, ashamed of her words and his cruel reaction. He licked his lower lip with his tongue and closed his eyes, feeling that he was completely hard.

He could smell her, she was still using that fruity, pleasant, fresh perfume.

"You're a romantic, innocent soul, aren't you?" He sneered, letting the smoke out again through his nose with a loud sigh − he heard her cough quietly as the smell of tobacco rose into her lungs. She grunted quietly, her lips tightened in displeasure.

"Innocent souls come to a strange man to spank them for money?"

"You didn't want me to spank you. You haven't experienced even a hint of real, hard domination, sweet girl." He snarled, spreading himself out comfortably on the back of the bench with a loud creak of wood, the metal chains squeaking quietly each time he made another movement with his foot, putting the structure in motion.

"So why did you agree to this?" She asked finally, and he fell silent, staring blankly ahead, taking one last drag on what was left of his cigarette.

"Good question."

They both fell silent again, feeling that their conversation was starting to get out of hand, and after all, someone could have woken up, opened the window, overheard their words.

"Did you tell Robert?" He asked suddenly, and she shook her head, horrified.

"N-no, of course not. And I won't. This is between you two. He respects you very much." She muttered, lowering her gaze to her bent knees, which she held under her chin. He hummed at her statement, accepting her words with some sort of relief.

"Did that help you? Now you know what you need?" He asked impassively, letting the smoke out loudly through his mouth, dropping the remnants of his cigarette into the glass with the unfinished drink, feeling her gaze on him, her body tense, he knew she had hesitated.

"In a way." She replied, and he dared to look her straight in the eye.

She didn't lower her gaze even though he knew some part of her wanted to do so, her lips parted slightly when she noticed his hands had slipped under the blanket, into his trousers. She swallowed loudly when she heard the sound of his zipper being undone and the fabric being unfastened.

"Come here. Sit on my lap." He ordered softly, and she did so without hesitation, as if she had only been waiting for those words, something in her confidence, in her assurance, in her desire, in her hot gaze made his breath stand in his throat.

They said nothing as he slipped her shorts off her, as he lowered his trousers, finally releasing his aching, swollen erection, already leaking from his precum. He didn't protest when her hands tentatively embraced his neck, barely touching him, merely catching her balance, his free hand covering their hips with a blanket.

"I'm clean. I had myself tested a few weeks ago, after I'd already taken a break." He whispered, feeling his cock throb aggressively in his hand at the thought that he could come deep inside her if she would just let him. She nodded her head in understanding, one movement of his hand between her thighs reassuring him that no further treatment would be necessary.

"Have you been this wet all evening? Hm? Have you suffered as much as I have?" He gasped, directing the pink, fat head of his manhood at her swollen slit. She nodded again, her lips parted in disbelief and delight, her eyes closed as she felt him begin to push inside her,his thumbs spreading her folds to the sides, watching with a rapidly beating heart as he slowly opened her wide on his cock.

"− fuck − fuck, tell me you're taking your pills −" He breathed out, tilting his head back, with one sure thrust of his hips filling her tight, leaking cunt to the brim. She squirmed quietly as he began to move inside her immediately, pounding into her with deep, sure stabs, rubbing each time the spot inside her from where she could see stars.

"− y-yes −" She mumbled out, rising and falling on his thick, aching manhood, giving him a wonderful squeeze each time, from which he sank his fingers deeper into her soft buttocks, forcing her into a fast, sharp rhythm in which he hardly slid out of her, panting and grunting louder than usual, thinking only of how wonderfully warm she was, that he could feel her moist, fleshy walls with his whole being with each sure thrust.

"− kiss me −" He exhaled and groaned loudly into her mouth as her lips instantly clung to his in a sloppy, sticky dance, his tongue invading deep into her throat, a shudder went through him as one of her hands combed through his hair.

"− m sorry −" She mumbled, immediately lowering her hand, but he put his one arm around her waist and pressed her closer to him, deepening the kiss with a loud purr of satisfaction, feeling wonderful, the alcohol had given him courage, and her touch was sweet and tender, not making him feel cornered.

"− it's okay − touch my face −" He sighed out between loud, wet licks of their swollen lips, quickening his pace as her hands gripped his cheeks, as her forehead pressed against his. Her walls began to clench on him with increasing intensity, making him lose his temper, not letting her escape the brutal thrusts of his hips.

"− oh, God − fuck, where −" He only mumbled, feeling that it was about to be too late.

"− please, inside me − ah −" She mewled so sweetly that he sighed loudly, surprised to feel his muscles relax, his semen spilling deep inside her without his willpower as her walls began to suck him and squeeze him in orgasm.

They both panted loudly, rocking their hips for a while longer, pulsing and shuddering, stroking each other's faces, looking at each other with their lips slightly parted, breathing heavily.

"− shall we go out somewhere tomorrow? − you know − to the pub or something? −" He muttered embarrassed that he had wanted something more, that he broke his own rule.

He was relieved when she giggled and smiled, nodding, only to lean in a moment later and kiss him in a drawn-out manner with her soft, puffy lips. He murmured contentedly, stroking her warm, bare buttocks with lazy movements, reciprocating her caress with a loud click of their saliva.

She pulled away from him at last, her hand combing slowly through his short hair making a pleasant shiver run along his spine.

"− why not −"

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Can we get the obey me boys(the brothers + dia, barbs, solomon, and simeon) reacting to mc having severe period cramps? Would they get all demon-y at the smell of blood?

Love your stuff btw!

Signed, a yandere junkie~

I'll do two for now 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Period | Yandere Obey Me

For those in the devildom having a draw for chaos and mortal pain it’s quite normal for blood to bring about a different kind of reaction. But to the surprise of no one period blood and the whole menstrual cycle is a complete bafflement to all who catch a whiff. Don’t worry though, you have the brother and your various friends. This surely won’t strike any of them to have an unusual streak in emotion and self-control, right?:

Lucifer

“It’s that time I’m suspecting?”

“Yes.”

“Understood rest easy, take your time to rest my dear.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure. Do you doubt my promise to keep you?”

One of the most casual about it 

He absolutely has done research for this exact occasion

But nothing is like experience in taking care of you himself

As well as the compulsion that has him being just as reactive as you

“You seem a bit different today Lucifer…”

“Am I? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oooh is that a gift from (Y/n)--”

“dON’t ToUCh tHaT!” 

“...”

“...”

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s with me this week.”

You’re not with him that’s what

For all the necessities he delivers he’s been keeping his distance

Taking the advice of the human care books he gave you your space

After all who better to deal with the human-female innerworkings than a human-female herself

But something feels wrong more than usual 

And it only seems to stop when he returns to your side at the end of the day

“Perhaps the hormones that are at work in you create a…guardian of sorts…out of me.”

He doesn’t really understand, all he knows is that when you were preparing to go to RAD he frantically calmly decided you’d not be attending

His excuse reasoning? That he would hate for any lesser demon to feel what he’s feeling 

That and he’d actually try to kill anyone who shows such similar inclination to protect you

“If anyone should stay to soothe you in this great time of need. I’m not above massacring any threats to you while you’re at your most vulnerable..” 

Generally he’s quite tame

…compared to his brothers

Diavolo

“Hey (Y/n) why’d you run off like that I thought we were having a good time.”

“Diavolo!?”

“Oh…hey (Y/n) if you’re hurt it’s okay to tell us we have tons of things that help heal humans.”

“Ugh! No that’s not what’s happening here!”

“Don’t be embarrassed here i’ll help!”

“Aghghgh!!!! Barbatos! Barb–Ah! Don’t you dare!”

A scolding and prompt lesson from Barbatos is very much in order

For someone so adamant on urging the blending of their worlds he doesn’t really know about this side of humanity

And unfortunately he’s never been one for backseat learning

“(Y/n), we’ve spoken and Diavolo would like to propose a hands-on-lesson with you about your menstrual cycle.”

“Uhm what kind of lesson?”

“One that will require he familiarize himself with all aspects of this process. Something that would preferably stimulate the five senses.”

“....”

“....”

“....Lucifer!!!! Solomon!!!”

Even better it has to do with you

What better way to strengthen your bond by having to monitor you

Not only for your safety but for all of humanity

“Hey later on we should definitely watch that movie together!”

“Oh yeah I thin–”

“I’m sorry but she cannot!”

“What why not?”

“Because she’s coming with me! The best place for a woman on muenster cycle is with me at the royal palace.”

“Uhm that’s not tr-”

“Here I’ll take you now!” 

He’s going to be hard to teach

But once you sit him down or snap at him one too many times

He’ll decide listening to you is the best course of action

In turn it will definitely build a relationship between you two

It may not be as romantic as he planned

But he’ll take it….for now 

After all there’s one every month

“That was fun! I can’t wait until the next time!”

Because he’s actively testing for it he might find some demons and creatures that react to it

But he won’t actively experiment with you in danger

Because it’s just not a good look to brutally murder every other subject of his that has a reaction he doesn’t like

“Next month I’ll have to convince them to let me get a swab or whole container full that’d be really hot.”

[puttingherinhistory]

Most people have absolutely no fucking empathy for the way it affects you to survive an abusive relationship. Most people have absolutely no fucking empathy for what the symptoms of PTSD do to you.

I had to work various food service and retail jobs right after I escaped a violently physically abusive relationship, and that mixes together just about as well as having to work a strenuous physical labor job right after having both your arms broken. But it was my only option if I wanted to pay the bills and keep food on the table.

Of course customers would get aggressive and hostile with me, of course customers would scream while their faces were red with rage and slam their fists on the counter or even try to physically threaten me. And of course given my very fresh and very untreated PTSD I'd freeze and/or fawn and break down afterwards. Even just moderate aggression like a raised voice or a forceful attitude could send me into freeze/fawn because my brain had just spent years being taught that even something as moderate as a raised voice or a forceful attitude meant I was in physical danger if I didn't back down.

And when my co-workers would witness me freeze up in front of a screaming hostile customer the reaction would range from anywhere from annoyance at how pathetic that was of me to later bragging to me about how much better they would have handled that because they're so much tougher and more assertive than me and needed to preen about that. Instead of even bothering to think about why I might be reacting the way I was or trying to empathize they could only jump on the opportunity to judge me as weak to make themselves feel better about themselves.

Or a friend of mine who I distanced myself from after I saw how she reacted to her sister's behavior after leaving an abusive relationship. Her sister was of course afraid of her abuser and afraid of confronting him about custody matters, and my friend would always talk about how frustrated she was with her sister for being "so childish and such a scaredy cat". She knew her sister had just been abused, but all she could do was judge her sister for being "weak" and get mad at her sister for her "weakness".

I have spent years in therapy and have regained a lot of my confidence and assertiveness that I'd lost from the abuse. But it still stings in all sorts of ways when I think of how people reacted to my behavior after I'd just escaped the abuse. How everyone's, and I mean everyone's, reaction to seeing me freeze or fawn or break down when I encountered aggression or hostility was to judge me as weak instead of having any understanding at all, and this includes people who knew I was fresh out of an abusive relationship.

If someone had just broken their arm and couldn't carry anything with their freshly broken arm, any normal decent human being's reaction would be to understand why they couldn't carry anything with a freshly broken arm, and any normal decent human being wouldn't expect them to. It's widely understood that if you judged them as pathetic and weak for not being able to carry anything with a freshly broken arm, and if you started preening about how you're so much stronger and better than them because you can carry things with your unbroken arm, that this makes you a colossal fucking asshole and a generally bad person.

Imagine if we could actually approach mental/emotional injuries, like PTSD from a physically violent relationship, with the same understanding.

[twstjam]

First Years Shenanigans at a Malleyuu Wedding

As much as I have Malleyuu Thoughts I'm also constantly thinking about First Years Gang so there's frequent overlap between the two, so have some Typical Wedding Goes Wrong Trope thoughts I had featuring the beloved First Years and many shenanigans.

Malleyuu wedding centered around the First Years making sure the wedding is going to go smoothly. So much shit is going wrong and they're trying desperately to fix them all without Malleus or Yuu finding out.

Sebek is freaking out the whole time, Ace and Deuce are mixing up each other's jobs, Jack is the only sane one, and Epel who is helping Yuu get ready is trying his best to focus on distracting them instead of running out there (he's still a tough farm boy through and through but a lot of things have gotta stuck after all those years at Pomefiore and under Vil's tutelage). Ortho is the only one who is even marginally helpful (as long as his gear somehow doesn't break that is)

I've got this image of Malleus summoning Sebek in the middle of all the chaos to have a bit of a heart-to-heart with him, thanking him for his years of service and friendship with Yuu, but meanwhile, Sebek is trying desperately to keep his composure because the entire time Malleus is speaking all kinds of nonsense and shenanigans is happening behind him.

I can also see Epel working with the other hairdressers, makeup artists, etc. (Maybe Crewel is there too because heck yeah father figure!Crewel helping Yuu get dressed for their wedding) on Yuu and Ace suddenly smacking into the window.

Yuu: Did you hear something? Epel: *making sure Yuu doesn't turn around and see Ortho trying to unstick Ace from the window* Prob'ly just the wind.

There's also a subplot going on that makes keeping everything a secret exponentially harder where Malleus keeps trying to run off to go see Yuu because his Dragon Clinginess is acting up and Lilia if he's still alive along with Silver and other servants are doing their best to keep him in his room and also make sure he gets ready in time for the wedding (and also bcs of the bad luck abt seeing each other before the wedding thing)

Sort of like the Tangled wedding short, by the time all the problems are solved Yuu and Malleus look at their friends and are shocked by their various disheveled states.

I also think it'd be funny if Maleficia is also there and she's completely Aware of all the nonsense going on and is mildly amused by it. Though she's not exactly working together with the boys she's calmly helping them fix certain things with a wave of her hand behind her back and also helping distract Malleus.

None of them knew she was in on it until the end of the actual wedding where she casually mentions to the newlyweds about the "issues" with the preparations and the two of them exchange confused looks while Yuu's friends freeze and break out into a sweat.

Ngl I kind of forgot about Grim agshdgdj. I imagine that he's getting ready WITH Yuu, getting his coat all groomed and stuff, but it takes less time and he walks in on the others and the messes they're trying to fix and he's like "MYAH!! If Yuu and Tusnotarou find out about this they're gonna FREAK!!" "We KNOW! Instead of standing there and complaining why don't you help us out instead?!" (-Ace, probably)

Helps distract Malleus and Yuu by clinging to them, making demands, lying about things like his outfit feeling uncomfortable or his coat needing a better brushing. I've got this image of Ace picking him up and rubbing him all over the betrotheds' wedding outfits to get cat hair all over them.

Grim: UNHAND ME!!! Sebek: TRAPPOLA?! Wh-What are you doing?! Ace: Trust me, this is gonna buy us tons of time!

In the end, the wedding goes smoothly. Sebek cries ofc, so does Deuce, Jack denies getting emotional, Epel too but less insistently, Ortho is being all sweet and soft and mushy about it, and Ace is making fun of them all but very lightheartedly :)

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

angel & devil!steddie 101

an intro to the au

here is a comprehensive little breakdown of this AU. this may contain spoilers for some of the stories.

 devil & angel AU masterlist | masterlist | join my taglist 

what kind of monsters are they? in short, they are the devil and angel on your shoulder, except they aren’t tiny guys literally on your shoulders, they’re normal size and just hang around you. steve is your guardian angel and eddie is your guardian devil.

angel and devil, so like heaven and hell? nope. they may be called an angel and devil, but they aren’t that kind. they’re just monsters, not the ones connected to various religions. 

where are they from? they’re from another realm, one that i imagine to be pretty dark and barbaric. 

why are they your guardian angel and devil? every human has them. where they’re from it is a job, so this, being your guardian, is their job

are they stuck with you? kinda, but they can pop back to their plane of existence though because that place is out of your world's time and space, when they bamf away no time passes for you. they could go and be in their own world for hundreds of years and then pop back to you in the very same moment they left you and to you it would barely even seem like they flinched.

how old are they? fucking ancient.

why can you see them? aren’t they usually invisible? yes, they are usually invisible, but the reason why you can see them is because you’re their true love. it’s a tiny bit complicated, but i’ll try to keep the explanation short: they, as these immortal creatures, can’t normally feel love and when they finally do, that is a warning sign that they’re gonna die because they’re now tethered to their soulmate and are gonna die when they do. it is explained more in this fic.

how do their tentacles work? they’re smooth in texture, they aren't attached to them, they can just summon them into existence and control them. do you know the dnd spell grasping vines? that's kinda the vibe/mechanics I imagine. 

can they reproduce with reader? nope. creating new lives works differently for them. i imagine perhaps it's some sort of magical ritual to create more angels and devils, maybe they are hatched in big old eggs?

steve harrington

angel

tentacles: see-through, sparkling, silver and gold glitter, kinda like a snow globe. they are summoned from light sources. 

his angelic features flare up more under intense emotions

scars on his back where wings can pop out

mind control/hypnotic powers 

eddie munson

devil

tentacles: dark, inky, like ferrofluid. they are summoned from dark and shadowy places. 

his demonic features flare up more under intense emotions

little horns 

split tongue

black eyes

illusion magic, like little shadowy things

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[the-s1lly-corner]

Making flower crowns for various crps (1/?)

I'm making these like. No bake granola balls and omg I tried some before I put it up and it's so good I'm so excited to try them when they're ready

Characters: slenderman, splendorman, ticci toby, masky, hoodie

Notes: reader is gn, this may be split into 3 parts for the characters , we will see, writing this while in a massive motivation slump chat i am struggling

CWs: none

SLENDERMAN

he already knows what youre doing long before you approach him with the crown... he does feign some level of surprise just for you albeit in the form of lightly raising his brows- he... doesnt emote that often...

he wears it for a while just for you, though he does eventually hang it somewhere so it can dry out and be preserved. he WILL raise hell if someone comes into his woods and steals it like they do his pages. it was a gift you made for him, hes not going to let some wandering hiker steal it from him

just say the word and he will bring you flowers to make more crowns, or better yet take you to where a lot of flowers tend to grow in the woods!

leaves flowers in your room or at your home for you whenever he gets the chance to gather some

SPLENDORMAN

oooooooo did you make that for him? give him a second to make one for you so the two of you can match! no really he only needs a minute or two, hes for the speed and efficiency to make one much much faster than you ever could- whether from experience or excitement or simply being built different... you werent sure!

will loop it around his hat so it rests on the brim.. will point out the specific flowers you wove into it and asks if the choices were intentional... even if they werent hes going to compliment your choices and if youre interested ramble about the meanings of the flowers you did choose

he loves daisies and sunflowers! they look so... "happy" as he puts it!

will dry the crown out so he can keep it long term

MASKY

why would you make him this? not to make him sound ungrateful, he moreso means it in a confused sense because... what use is there to wear this? it is nice, though....

dont even try to snatch it back off of his head hes going to either evade you or grip it to his head in his hands- possibly the most... expressive... youve seen him be in response to non-dangerous things

keeps it stashed away somewhere when he needs to take it off to go into the woods and do his work

he... finds himself making one for you... the process is actually quite calming for him... half of the flowers he picks are actually weeds- not that he cares about the difference. a flower is a flower regardless of where it grows

HOODIE

he likes it! you... think... the mask makes it hard to tell and he just... let you put it on top of his head- you get the feeling that he already knew you were making the crown

keeps it in a safe space, but somewhere visible so you know that he didnt through it out or trash it or whatever- he knows you put time and effort into this and hes going to let you know that hes not going to disregard it... will dry it out like his boss

one night he comes home with all sorts of plants- flowers, weeds, grass, everything he could get his hands on- in his arms and dumps them in front of you- and he starts signing...

...he wants you to show him how to make a crown too!

TICCI TOBY

initially acts like its not that big of a deal or that its really something hes interested in it... but hes shutting you down when you offer to take it back

wears it even when he goes out in the woods, will throw hands if someone snatches it off of his head or damages it in some way. he does NOT care if theyre just flowers!

attempts to dry the crown out, likely fails somewhere down the line and he feels so distraught- he knows that it was going to happen eventually but god does it do nothing to take away the disappointment.. his ass does not know how to effectively preserve plants

you both sit together making crowns

[weepingwillowwonder]

Aaa thank you for asking, I am doing well also :3

Could I request an Alastor x Male!reader who is also a deer like him? Either the same type or a different kind and our antlers are growing in for the first time in hell (since I imagine only Alastor can control his? Depending on your head canon of that :3)

And we ask Alastor for advice since it keeps getting in the way of things and are overly sensitive (I read that when deers first grow antlers they are very sensitive but I could be wrong) if that is alright!

Ah, I'm glad to hear you're well Strawberry <3 !

At this point, I swear I start every request with “so sorry I took forever…” This one is literally no different. Frfr this one took 5 ever and I'm sorryyyy ( T ~ T)

This request was actually kinda hard for me to come up with something, but I THINK I did okay with it.

~~~

Alastor x Male!Reader 

CW: Suggestive content (MDNI!!!), Reader is a deer demon like Alastor

‘Why would Alastor help me, of all people?’ 

---

You think to yourself as hesitation slowly creeps in the back of your mind. The hand you had raised to knock on the door of Alastor’s room slowly lowered to your side as you thought over your current situation. 

Relatively new to hell, you had just finally begun to familiarize yourself with the abrupt changes of your body and the instincts that came with it. Similarly to the radio demon, your form took on the characteristics of a deer: Fluffy ears sat upon your head and a matching tail on your backside reflected each and every change of emotion you took on. Up until now, the physical changes to your body were really only noted in those two areas, and if anything, your personality was drastically more affected. Your senses, heightened in your transition, forced you to become a little more aware of your surroundings, thus more cautious or even skittish depending on the situation. 

At this point, you tried your best to stay low and out of sight, in fear of retaliation from the people around you. And in most cases, that thought process worked. Somehow you managed to survive long enough to make it to the Hazbin Hotel and become one of its beloved residents, on your quest for redemption. Things were going seemingly well, despite mostly keeping to yourself. You learned quickly that some residents were easier to get along with than others, and others, more so Alastor, set off your internal alarm system. 

Despite your body yelling at you to run away from Alastor’s domain, you ignore the warnings in favor of dealing with your current problem. Your antlers were coming in. Of course they were, you were a deer after all. Reaching up to touch the currently small nubs on the top of your head, you immediately flinched. The feeling was foreign to you, hardly painful, but not quite pleasant either. Somewhere in the middle of overwhelmingly sensitive were your antlers and it only grew worse as they increased in size. The current problem? You didn’t know what set them off to emerge. One minute you’re minding your business, the next you find yourself stuck somewhere in your room with various items hanging from your antlers.

You chew on your bottom lip weighing your options: You can keep running in circles, trying and failing to find some sort of solution to keeping your antlers suppressed or… you can seek guidance from the only other deer demon that you know, who also just so happens to be a master at keeping his composure. Before you’re able to make up your mind, the door in front of you swings open to reveal a smiling, yet somehow annoyed looking Alastor.

“Hello, my dear! Exactly how long do you expect to linger in front of my room? You should know it is quite rude to mark in someone else's territory.” He comments, eyeing your panicked expression. “N-no! I wasn’t, that wasn’t my intention at all!” You blurted out, raising your hands in surrender. His narrowed eyes flicker upward towards your head, lingering for a moment before looking back at you. “Hm. Your scent says otherwise.” He says matter of factly, nose crinkling in disgust. 

The room suddenly feels considerably warmer as you feel the flush growing on your cheeks. Your mouth opens to defend yourself, but suddenly your antlers begin to rapidly grow in size. It takes everything in you not to cry out at the feeling, your lips pressing together to keep the noises inside. Catching him by surprise, Alastor reaches out with both hands to grab a hold of your antlers and forces you to your knees. “What on earth do you think you're doing?” He hisses, voice quickly turning into distorted static as he continues to hold you in that position, his antlers also emerging to challenge your own. 

Well this is not how you anticipated this conversation to go. A whimper slips past your lips, partially in fear and partially in something else as he holds you firmly in place beneath him. You didn’t account for Alastor potentially seeing you as a threat, his display of dominance made it very clear he wasn’t aware of your intentions. Instead, he mistook your current state as blatant disrespect rather than a show of inexperience.

The fingers wrapped around your antlers had you gasping for air. Your entire body quickly lights up as the stifling feeling of heat flows through you. Your fight or flight response kicks in and you attempt to pull yourself away from him, instead falling straight on your back when he suddenly lets you go. The feeling of static fills the air as Alastor comes to hover over you, smile tightening menacingly. 

“Please, I’m not here to fight! I don't want-, my antlers, I can't control them Alastor! I-I need your help! I was trying to ask for your help!” The words tumble from your mouth, flinching as he takes a step closer to you. He straightens up once you state your business and quickly shrinks down to his original form. “Hah! Well, why didn't you start with that?” He laughs lightheartedly, both hands now resting on his extended microphone. You stare up at him in complete disbelief.

“That would have saved us both a lot of trouble, you know… As for your antlers,” He leans over to inspect them closer, using a finger to trace the intricate patterns of them. “In my experience they tend to be quite sensitive to your emotions, similarly to these.” He playfully tugs at one of your ears before pulling away, chuckling softly as you reach up to the area where he touched you.

“Anyway…” he taps the inside of your thigh with his microphone, extremely close to the straining bulge in your pants. “Come find me once you’ve dealt with this problem, then we can discuss your concerns for control. How does that sound?”

[after-witch]

What got you into yanderes? (I’m still trying to figure out why I love them so much myself 😅)

I have always been into antagonistic characters and kind of like... bad end sort of stuff?

When I was a kid I would imagine "what ifs" for various shows I watched, like "What if Gaston killed the Beast and got Belle to marry him," or "what if Kristy from Care Bears II never helped the Care Bears and was Dark Heart's servant forever," etc.

Growing up I'd constantly daydream about OCs and self-inserts for whatever characters I liked, often gravitating towards villains. Like "ohh what if this antagonist character kidnapped me" sort of stuff.

Most of this was relegated to daydreams because it wasn't popular to do OCs and certainly not "reader" or self-inserts back then, to the point that you'd get bombarded with negative comments, have people do "Mary Sue" tests on your fics, and so on.

At some point, I got into reader fics a few years back... I can't remember how I stumbled on them. I think maybe just searching Tumblr tags for a character I was invested in at that point?

So I started reading 'reader' fic, and gravitated towards the darker characters & scenarios. At one point during this, someone who wrote reader fic reblogged a "yandere" fic and while I'd heard of the basic idea before (mainly via early Yandere Simulator before it all went, uh, yeah) I'd never seen it with reader stuff.

Followed lots of reblogs & tags and just sorta?? fell head over heels with it? It's exactly what I daydream about, but in written form.

I really like how emotional and dark the scenarios get as well, in addition to the self-indulgent nature of it. I've always found it fun to explore darker scenarios in fantasy and this works well for that.

Sometimes ngl I like to read super emotional fics that make me cry just to have a good sobbing session!! Cathartic. But for the most part it's just, "Oh, this is fun!!" for me.

[animeshotsh]

Let me show you Crazy - Various x Jinx!Reader

Warnings: Jinx is a complex character herself. Im only using a small part of her personality to write this small piece. There is not connection to the events of arcane.

HH Violence - Cursing - Various!xReader - Platonic - Mentions of mental breakdown - Hallucinations - Past Abuse - Vaggie seems bad but she wishes the best -

The normal red sky of hell was tainted in blues and purples as laugh filled up the streeets.

Sinner who knew better took a step aside as bullet flew past them.

The target?

No one in particular.

You were just bored, and the voices kept whispering to you, if you closed your eyes silouhets of now nameless faces would appear.

Thats why you needed this.

Cherri will for sure be pissed at you for have not inviting her to your little outbrust, but hell was alywas up for another bombing so you were not so worried over it.

Just as the last bombs exploted and your gun was hot from shooting you decided to stop and find a place for the night, your hideout was too far away now to go back.

--------

You entered Angel Dust aparment without a problem, all his pink colors made you want to puke but you hold back, soon his little pet came to welcome you, seeing you as a parent figure of sorts.

Even if you have joked that you could made some good meat with it.

"Hey, who is the bitch that-" Angel stopped his cursing and lowered his guns seeing you.

"Oh, hey Spidy" You joked seeing his pet go back to him.

"(Y/N), I thought these were your bombs"

"Hell yeah they were" you responded, passing by him and getting onto his bed. "Had a sweet time shooting these fuckers off"

"Yeah...thanks for the invitation" Angel joked back getting on the side of the bed. He knew how unestable you could be, but he could figure when you were out having fun and when you just needed to be out.

Maybe his way to cope with trauma was sex, yours was violence, this was hell, everyone did what they could.

"I thought you were being re made Spidy, the Princess got a nice place? I might just crash there next time"

Angel had to sight to himself imagining the chaos you would make, not only that, you would for sure make Alastor lose his cool the second you set foot into the hotel.

"Yeah well, you get a room, food, all free, i think you should try it" Angel said seeing you play with your hair. Now he did think you should try it, maybe it could help you, maybe you could get better.

"Uh, it seems too good to be true" You responded looking past Angel to nameless figures now behind him, one of them biting Angels neck and the other one just staring at the roof.

"N-no, i dont need help. Hey! shut up, who said that i was considering it? NO!! IM NOT WEAK" Angel stood aside as you passed by his aparment, your hands on your hair pulling pieces of it, talking to things that were not there. "SHUT UP, YOU KNOW NOTHING".

"(Y/N)...." Angel tried when he saw you fall to your knees, memories of a terrible past revealing itself to you.

"I SAID, SHUT UP" Angel found himself with a gun to his face. Your gun, with trembling hands, you were not looking at him but at someone else, someone who had hurt you at some point.

Angel had to thank whatever was above him by his agility, because not a second later you shoot to now an empy space. He quickly moved to take the gun from you and get you in a hold.

"Shh, its me, Angel Dust, remember? Its me, your friend, you little blue flare, you got nothing to be scared of" Angel told you half screaming, and having just enough emotion in his voice to break you from your episode.

"Angel?"

"Yes Y/N?"

"Are you real?" You asked not knowing what was going on anymore, Angel felt his eyes tear up as he let go of you to hug you properly.

"Of course Im you idiot, why do you want to be alone so much?"

You did not respond, these were the few times your mind was quiet. No voices, no images, just the present, you still did not know if he was real, if he was talking to you, or if he was other one of your friends.

"Hey, what are you thinking about?" Angel asked easily picking you up and taking you to his bed.

"I- I dont want to be alone" was all you said as he pulled the blankets up to you and took your hand in his.

"You wont"

-------------

"Do you know who that is?" Vaggie asked pointing at you and Angel. You were looking at everything in the loby of the hotel with Angel trying to keep you in check.

"Yes, they are a sinner who needs help" Charlie responded her girlfriend also looking at your somehow childish behaviour.

"Thats Jinx, is one of the most unestable and unpredictable sinners from the circle, and thats is something to say with how many we got"

"Vaggie, I offer salvation to anyone, I dont care who they are as long as they want to be saved"

"And you think they want to be saved?" Vaggie asked somehow exasperated by now.

Before Charlie could respond you appear besides her, giving her a crushing hug.

"I must say Princess, Spidy said this place was neat but he did not mention it was this good, where is my room? oh! can i decor it? I love blue you see, and I paint, you wanna see some of them? SHH, WHO SAID SHE WONT LIKE IT?"

"Jinx!!" Charlie said not noticing you almost having another episode but pulling you right back into the hug. "Yes! of course you can decorate, and i would love to see your art"

This made you smile, taking her hand and pulling her towards a near table where your stuff was.

"Can my room be besides Spidy?"

Charlie just nodded already exploring your odd draws.

-------

"I need to talk with you" Vaggie said, not happy to have come to this but seeing it as necesary.

"Oh? and what will you need from me?" Alstor asked smirking at her.

"Jinx, if she does something to hurt Charlie or the hotel purpose..."

"What?" Alastor knew what Vaggie wanted, and knew who you were. True to be told, he did not like you being in the hotel, you could ruin everything, but he also liked a good show, and that needed good characters, and you were for sure one hell of one. So he could let you stay and watch you and your actions.

"...Stop them, however you need to do it" Was all Vaggie said. Now wanting to listen to Alastor moral speech she went back to her and Charlies room.

Now, Alastor would not let himself be ordered like that ny anyone, but he knew Vaggie wishes and his own reasons did aline this time. He will let it pass, and maybe use it for the future.

If Charlie knew Vaggie was going behind her back, telling Alastor to dispose of troublemaker sinners....well she would be heartbroken.

[kasdan]

Watching Horror Movies Headcanons

masterlist

Pairing: marvel characters x gn!reader

Characters: Frank Castle, Loki, Carol Danvers, Kamala Khan, Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker, Yelena Belova, Matt Murdock, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: characters getting scared, loki and wanda being menaces, mentions of gore

𝑭𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆

Isn’t really a fan of horror movies

Thinks a lot of them are dumb and don’t give off the scary aspect that they’re supposed to

Doesn’t get scared easily, but sometimes jumps at the cheap jumpscares and can’t help but laugh in the aftermath of it when he realizes how cheap the scare was

Lets you know when he thinks something is dumb or questions why it happens

Will go on about how impractical certain things that happen are

Ends up turning into a whole spiel on how none of the movie makes any sense and how it’s supposed to be a so called horror movie

Laughs way more than you probably should when watching a horror movie

Is astonished when you tell him that one of these movies is actually based on a true story

Convinced that they must have changed details from the original story in order to make the movie “more interesting”

Doesn’t go out of his way in order to watch another movie

Lets out a playful groan if you ask him to watch another one with you

Says he needs to be energized for it and has to make a pot of coffee before watching it to get him through it

𝑳𝒐𝒌𝒊

Is curious to what the movie entails but the curiosity quickly turns unamused when he starts to watch a section of the movie

Doesn’t flinch or show any emotion when scares come onto the screen

Thinks the scares aren’t scary and the premise of the movie is dumb

Questions why you would ask him to watch such a ghastly movie

Is the type of person to want everyone in the movie to die, including the killer

Gives you a pointed look when the cheapest and worst jumpscare happens and after the killers origin story is seen and it is not great

Attempts to scare you the same way the movie had try to do by making the same props appear in random places

If you get scared he will tease you relentlessly about jumping at a scare he didn’t think was possible to get scared at

He continues on the scares for a couple days until one time you practically punch him in the face (from the scare of course no other reason) and he decides to stop with everything

You will actually never invite him to watch any kind of horror movie with you again

𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒍 𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔

Likes horror movies, but not the ones that have cliche stories and half assed writing

Watches a different variety of horror movies in order to see the differences each of them have from each other

If one is a lot like a different movie she won’t really like it, she likes how movies differentiate from each other so there’s new things to experience

Since she likes the uniqueness in movies, she doesn’t really like the movies that are a part of a series, especially if the series goes on for too long and the concepts in the movies are basically the same

Gets excited when a new horror movie is announced and she can’t wait to watch it and experience it

Is more of a horror movie critic than anything else and will say what she felt about the movie and how they could have made it even better

She doesn’t really jump or get scared at the scares in the movie and more so enjoys the plot of the movie instead

Wants to have you watch different movies that she really enjoys in order to share what she really likes in them to get you to like them too

𝑲𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒂 𝑲𝒉𝒂𝒏

Is so scared that she’ll think of various other things that she “needs” to do in order to stall watching the movie

Gets all sorts of snacks and blankets ready before she eventually runs out of stalling tactics and reluctantly goes to sit down to start watching the movie

Ends up with three blankets covering her and half her face under them, only leaving her eyes peeked out from over them

Jumps over every slight movement and noise that she hears, either from the movie or from other things in the room

When the movie gets to a point where it looks like there’s about to be a jumpscare she hides under the blankets and you have to tell her when it’s okay for her to look again

Puts on a bunch of other (not horror) movies and shows on to watch insisting that you guys pull an all nighter, acting like she’s only doing it because it’ll be fun not because she won’t be able to sleep

Has to keep a light on in her room in order to be able to sleep

If you mention watching another horror movie she’ll probably just smile at you with wide eyes and come up with something else to do instead without directly rejecting the idea

𝑩𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝑩𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔

Isn’t the largest fan of the horror genre, but will try it out

Gets a little more triggered if the movie is particularly gory

Doesn’t like if the killer shows like they’re extremely sociopathic with no emotions going around murdering everyone

Would prefer to watch something less gory and a little more cheerful, but will still attempt to watch anything that you’re very excited to watch

Tries to get into the plot of the movie while trying his hardest to block out any blood or triggering scenes for him

Wouldn’t choose to watch a horror movie over a different genre he enjoys more, but he can see why people like to watch them, they’re just not for him

Finds paranormal movies the most interesting since there’s not a human “killer” that’s part of the movie

Learns more about the kind of movies surprising himself by actually finding them interesting, not expecting him to like anything in the kind of genre that much

Doesn’t get that scared of the movies, only jumping when he gets caught off guard at something

𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒆𝒓

Has his indifferences with horror movies

On one hand he really likes how certain horror movies are put together

But on the other hand he gets scared easily and has to prepare himself for every horror movie that he watches

Kind of like kamala he has to have many blankets on him while he watches the movie, keeping him comfort for when any of the jumpscares pop up

Distracts himself with a various amount of snacks so he doesn’t have to think much about what is going on on the screen

Whenever a person in the movie makes a dumb decision or is on the verge of doing so he’ll bring the blankets up further and repeat phrases on the line of “don’t go in there, don’t go in there” and “oh my god don’t turn around”

Will reference back to the movie if something happens and he’s reminded of it, purposefully skipping over the parts where he got incredibly scared in

Brushes it off like it’s nothing, but it will actually take a longer time for him to be able to fall asleep at night, every slight noise he’d be jumping up on full alert

He’ll have to tell himself that nothing out of the ordinary is happening and there isn’t a psychopathic murderer after him

𝒀𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒂 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒂

Is extremely down to watch a horror movie, thinking it’ll be fun to try

Ends up jumping so high and letting out a swear at the first jumpscare in the movie

Has a look of shock on her face when she’s completely caught off guard at something that happens

You have to make sure she’s not holding anything heavy in her hand so she doesn’t end up throwing it at the tv when she gets scared

You don’t think you’ve ever heard her swear as much in one setting as she does when she watches the movie

Gets aggravated when she keeps falling for the same type of jumpscare and starts to scream at the screen at how they just keep doing the same thing and how dumb it is

Doesn’t really pay attention to the plot of the movie and ends up in a competition with herself on how much she can withstand the jumpscares

She stares at the screen practically unblinking so ready for any jumpscare that’s bound to show up

Jumps up out of her seat in excitement when she doesn’t even flinch at a scare that pops up, acting like she’s beaten a level of a game she’s been stuck on for weeks

𝑴𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝑴𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒐𝒄𝒌

You know that he can’t see what’s on the tv, so you don’t really invite him to watch a horror movie, he just kind of joins you himself

You’ll be cuddled up on the couch watching a scary movie and matt will hear your heartbeat pick up and go to check on you

When you tell him you’re just watching a scary movie he’ll ask to join you and take a seat next to you

He can’t see the jumpscares coming and finds it amusing when you jump next to him

However if there’s a particularly loud part that comes out of nowhere he will get slightly startled by it

You tell him what’s happening when there’s no dialogue and you both end up making fun of what different characters are doing

“Wait why is she going into the shed? Shouldn’t she be trying to find a way out of there?”

He ends up having a good time even though he can’t see what’s happening on the screen and it becomes a tradition for you two to watch different horror movies just to see how the survivors attempt to stay alive in the dumbest ways

𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐟𝐟

Actually really likes horror movies, especially very suspenseful scenes and the adrenaline rush she gets when she watches them

Watches them for fun on her down time

Is excited when Halloween draws closer and a lot of people start to watch more horror movies

Will drag you to a movie theater to watch a horror movie

She likes seeing the scares on such a big screen, and how tense the room gets as everyone awaits for a jumpscare that they know is coming

Is a fan of some the classics and the effect they have on her

Doesn’t like to rewatch a horror movie that she’s seen before

Knowing when the scares are going to happen takes the suspense out of it for her so she’ll only rewatch a movie that she hasn’t seen in a while and she doesn’t exactly remember all the things that happen

𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟

Would use the horror movie as an excuse to get close to you

The scares of the movie don’t really phase her, but if she does get scared she’ll laugh and play it off like it’s not a big deal

Finds it amusing when you jump or get scared at different parts

Will get a ton of blankets and pillows for you two to get the most comfortable with

Makes multiple attempts to try and scare you when the movie gets to a slow and quiet point

She’ll grip your shoulder suddenly and let out a scream in an attempt to try and get you to jump

If she succeeds she’ll end up laughing so hard, apologizing between the laughs but you know she doesn’t mean it

When she successfully does it three times during the movie you threaten to not watch any more movies with her in the future which makes her quickly apologize and say that she’ll stop and behave for the rest of the night

All in all she has a fun time watching scary movies, even if it isn’t fully the movie that has her in an excitable mood, and she enjoys getting to be able to spend time with you no matter what you’re doing

all photos used were found on pinterest ❤️

buy me a coffee ♡

[generic-sonic-fan]

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tra

transfem metal sonic and supporting eggdad

Please

Eggman may not be the best person or the best dad but by god he's trying his best. Thank you for this excellent prompt!

1772 words.

---

"Father?" Sage spoke through his headphones.

Ivo took them off his ears and swiveled his chair around to find his lovely daughter hovering just off the ground.

"Sage!" He smiled. "I was just waiting for you. I noticed that you marked this time on my calendar- what is it that you wanted to discuss?"

"I did," she said. "I had some questions."

He waited, but when she didn't continue, he furrowed his brow. "Then spit them out. I can't answer if you don't specify!"

"Of course. I wish to ask questions about the purpose of Metal Sonic's operation."

This was even stranger still. He caught a number of criticisms rising in his throat, about wasting his time or defying his command to be more specific. He didn't say them. A few months ago, he would've. This was a strange development, and it was best if he didn't devote much thought to the matter.

"Why was Metal Sonic designed to resemble Sonic?"

"You can check my development logs, can't you?" Ivo replied.

"Your intention was to create an imposter of Sonic to frame Sonic for crimes against the populace that he did not commit." 

Sage pulled up a holographic window next to her, showing the exact words Ivo had written in his notes all those many years ago. With a flick of her hand, however, she pushed the logs aside and instead showed a montage of Metal Sonic's various missions. Most end in failure, but that isn’t relevant right now.

"However," Sage noted, "you have never utilized Metal Sonic in this intended manner. In fact, the last person used to frame Sonic for something he did not do was Shadow the Hedgehog."

"You're right." Ivo put his hand on his chin. "Where are you going with this?"

"I am here to suggest that the physical resemblance is unnecessary for Metal Sonic's function."

"Well, that's silly to propose after all this time. His name is 'Metal Sonic', after all!"

"Because that unit has not decided on another name." Sage said, quieter.

"Sage, dear, you know that I don't allow you to keep secrets from me, right?" He stood from his chair.

"Apologies. Allow me to 'cut to the chase'. Would you permit Metal Sonic to change appearance and potentially identity?"

Sage's animations stopped moving, freezing her face into artificial neutrality. It was a face stylized to not provoke any sort of strong emotion at all, almost a sort of mask she could don if she was worried her words might provoke a negative reaction.

The fact that she was using it on him was making something in his chest hurt that he wasn't used to feeling pain in. He didn't have any more scientific language to describe it.

"You're asking this on Metal's behalf, aren't you?" He stated his question as the fact it was. "While I appreciate your desire to protect those you consider family, he shouldn't be making you do this sort of thing. You've got much better things to do with your time- and he doesn't need protection from me." 

Sage's steely gaze did not shift. "I will call Metal Sonic inside." 

Only a few seconds later, the door to his workshop opened and Metal Sonic walked in. His gait was stiff- he always walked stiffly, but something about this felt stiffer than usual. Or perhaps that was simply Ivo's human imagination at play. 

Sage floated to the side to allow space between them. She then pulled up an empty text box. "I will translate." 

For at least thirty seconds, nothing appeared on the textbox. Ivo cleared his throat. Metal Sonic hadn't moved even a centimeter, perhaps not even a millimeter. Deathly still, just like Sage was. 

Finally, a cursor appeared in the textbox, and a line of text scrolled across. "This unit does not identify as male."

"Hmph. To be expected. You are a robot, after all. Makes sense that you don't have an experience of gender." Ivo replied. "Is that all?"

Metal Sonic flinched. 

Sage landed in front of him(?) and pantomimed putting her hands on his(?) shoulders, before turning to face Ivo again. 

"That is not quite what Metal Sonic intended." She said quickly. She then glanced over her shoulder to the text box, but nothing appeared on it.

"Hold on," Ivo knelt down, "I may have been too hasty with my assertion. Continue your thought.”

Neither hologram nor robot moved. Damn it all- Ivo was already terrible at reading nonverbal cues, and when his own kids could simply lock their joints in place or freeze their animations, it was all the more difficult. The only indication that either of them were still online was the steadily growing hum of Metal's cooling fans, which were designed to increase in RPM during combat scenarios. 

"You know I don't give a care in the world about what pronouns my creations choose for themselves, right?" Ivo tried his best to give a paternal smile. 

(He really should've practiced more in the mirror.)

"You don't?" Sage asked.

"Of course! Why would I?"

"You had previously stated that Metal Sonic's purpose was initially for imitatio-"

"Who gives a rip about that? I certainly don't. Not anymore. You yourself pointed out how that doesn't matter. Now move aside," he waved Sage out of the way of her brother(?). 

Sage did as he asked. But Metal Sonic still did not react. His(?) irises did not even flicker.

"C'mere." Ivo held out his arms.

Metal came a single step closer, still hovering outside of his reach. He almost opened his mouth again, almost raised his voice and demanded that Metal follow the implicit order to come receive the physical comfort he was trying to give to solve this mess of a situation, but he didn't. 

Ivo remembered that as a child he was forced to hug his relatives at various family functions, and that said hugs had felt like sandpaper prisons. Metal Sonic was different- he(?) wasn't organic, wasn't human, and wouldn't feel the sensation of his(?) skin crawling at the unwanted touch -but maybe he(?) experienced something similar that remained unvoiced. 

The thought was strange. But Ivo lowered his arms anyway. "Alright, or not. That's fine as well."

Metal clasped his(?) hands together, but the text screen remained empty.

"What pronouns would you like to be referred to?" Ivo asked. 

The cursor flickered. Letter by letter, an answer appeared. "She/her."

"Lovely!" Ivo clapped his hands together. He then looked at Sage. "Sage, it sounds like you have an update to make to the database. Leave Metal's development logs as they are, but correct the pronouns referring to her everywhere else." 

"Gladly." Sage smiled. 

At that, it was like Metal finally unthawed. He- no no no, she was a she, Ivo drilled into his thoughts, he was not going to bumble something as simple as this -She unlocked her joints, and her gaze wandered up to finally meet Ivo's gaze. 

"So, how would you like to modify your frame to better match your gender identity?" Ivo asked her. 

She glanced side to side, before upon the screen writing, "taking suggestions?"

"Yes?" Ivo raised an eyebrow. "I'm not a woman. I haven't got a clue what you might want. Suggest me ideas and I'll see what I can do."

"Will you accept blueprints?"

"I don't see why not! I review Sage's blueprint suggestions all the time." 

Metal walked to the computer. As Ivo turned to follow her, he saw a notification pop up on the screen. Opening it revealed in-depth plans for-

-a body that looked extremely similar to Neo Metal Sonic. 

Ivo cleared his throat to try and get more moisture into his mouth, which had suddenly gone dry. "Sage?"

"Yes, father?" Sage woke from her idle animation as she paused her update of the database.

"Do you see any. . . problems, with these designs?" He asked. 

Sage first turned to her sister. "You should have informed me that you were moving onto this stage." 

Metal's response to her did not appear on the text box. 

Sage flickered out of existence and reappeared to the left of the computer screen. "Father, know that I would not have allowed any of this if I thought Metal were to be a danger to you or the Empire." 

"Good. I expected as much." He replied, before looking back down to Metal. "Very well, if that’s what you want, I’ll get working on it." 

Sage brought Metal's textbox back alongside her just as Metal typed, "you will?"

"Did I stutter? Of course I will! It's a dashingly dreadful look and it matches with Sage's colors!" He replied. "Think of the fear it will instill in Sonic and his friends! Honestly, it's a terrifying design, it's a wonder I didn't come up with it myself. . ." 

"Thank you." Metal typed.

"Thank you, father." Ivo corrected with a smile. "I know I haven't always been good about that, but the past is in the past, right?"

"Affirmative, father." She repeated. 

"Good!" He clapped his hands together and grinned. "Now! Let's get to the workshop! I already know what synthetic material we should use for the skirt. Your design suggests kevlar, but you really should consider something less stiff and heavy to reduce drag!"

"Indeed," Sage added. "However, she is worried about the durability of the fabric-"

"What do you think my flight suit is made out of? We'll use the same fabric. Only the finest for my finest creations!"

Sage covered her mouth and giggled. Metal imitated the gesture, but surprised Ivo when her vocoder let out a series of high-pitched noises, a perfect little laugh. . . for a perfect little girl. 

"My girls." He said to himself. Although with the sensitivity of Metal's audial sensors and Sage's access to every high-performance camera on the Eggnet, that fact was debatable, so he said it louder. "My little girls." 

"My sister." Sage floated down to Metal's side. 

Metal brought her hands up to her muzzle and rocked side to side. Ivo swore that he could've seen Amy do a similar gesture, but that was irrelevant. It was a gesture of joy, a gesture that he didn't think Metal was even capable of before now. 

Just how long had she been hiding this for? Perhaps she was merely imitating Sage, but the deliberate inclusion of Amy’s data into her gestures made him hesitate to confirm that conclusion. And that thought threatened to bring up all sorts of feelings that he'd be much better off not thinking about. So, with a smile, he refocused on the task at hand. 

His eldest daughter needed a makeover, over all. 

[victoriadallonfan]

Rereading Ward, it’s very interesting how Victoria desperately wants to put on this facade of statuesque calm and implacable manner. Even without spelling it out, it feels like she subconsciously wants to be Brandish or Alexandria or Chevalier or arguably Scion: people who don’t break who don’t show any of their emotions and are steadfast about keeping to the job.

Except, that’s not true for them. Brandish, Alexandria, Chevalier, and Scion all break down at various points from the stress, all of them feel hampered by this facade more than anything, and it ruins nearly all but one of their lives.

And it’s especially not true for Victoria. She doesn’t like being this stiff upper lip person, despite her thinking it’s what she’s supposed to do.

Victoria is a passionate person: she likes making jokes and innuendos, she likes pulling pranks and having people pull pranks on her (in good fun), she likes being excited about nerdy shit and movies and music, she loves to hear people talk about their artistic passions, and she craves being able to help those who are dealing with traumas like herself.

She wants to be able to cry and love and hate.

And we see that it’s this side that compels her team to basically adopt her into their therapy group, it’s what helps Fume Hood find the confidence to stay a hero, it helps Ashley feel like she belongs and Kenzie like she can be loved. Rain feels like he actually has some on who will have his back, Sveta has a newfound sister, and the Capricorn twins feel she treats them with dignity and respect.

It even works on some of the villains she fights. Moose is basically her friend who can’t resist her passion for doing the right thing, Prancer finds her amusing but also identifies with her wanting something better than a life such as this, and when she’s trying to rescue the Old Man from the other villains - it’s her removing her mask and making herself more human, joking with them, that allows them to relent and play along.

Even in one of the darkest moments of the story, where Sidepiece is mocking Victoria for her rape, none of the other villains join in. Victoria is hurt, she’s offended, and she’s hating herself because of the comments said to her, but she notices the none of the villains think this is funny or seem comfortable with it. They don’t do anything about it, but it seems pretty clearly signaled that seeing this happen to someone who is visibly hurting is not something they agree with either.

And of course, her friendship and divorce with Tattletale, a person whom Victoria hated for her role in her wretching, but when they put aside the masks and bravado they find a commonality and love to people close to them.

And stranger still, they find themselves recognizing that they each sort of fill gap left by others in their lives, and grow to become deep friends even if it’s of the snarking kind. It’s Tattletale seeing Victoria broken by her power and Victoria seeing Tattletale broken from her trigger event that the first big steps to that friendship are made, and the deal is sealed when Tattletale confides in Victoria her own fears and vice versa.

Being this indomitable and implacable force of nature isn’t strength. It is arguably part of why the Simurgh was the final opponent and so terrifying. Human but not, a mere statue taking action with no care or concept of caring beyond The Mission.

Victoria being able to express her humanity and be vulnerable is what matters and what inspires people around her. And it’s very fitting that Chevalier, a person who, Victoria tried to emulate several times, realizes that maybe it’s time to follow what Victoria is doing and just… be human and vulnerable.

To rest and self care, and acknowledge that you need it.