#anyway Good event. Enjoyed it immensely

[omarwolaeth]

Yuuri you can't just say things casually and not expect me to lose my shit. What the fuck do you mean clones

[egophiliac]

still ruminating over Lost In the Book With Spooky Skeletons Part 1, so here's a selection of some of my favorite little bits! (...some more loosely paraphrased than others) (I just feel like Idia has no room to criticize in general, okay)

anyway, I'm sure we're just going to have a fun time celebrating Halloween and nothing bad is going to happen whatsoever! :)

[girlsworldillusion]

When pretending doesn't matter anymore  

Alpha!Aemond - Omega!Reader

Summary: An unexpected heat. An unclaimed Omega. An Alpha fighting for control. An intense combination of events that change your life completely.

Rated: Explicit (+18)

Ella's Notes: This story, as the summary says, explores a bit of the A/B/O dynamic. Which, of course, touches on subjects like heats and ruts, secondary designations, bonding bites, knots and the like. I tried to approach it in a simpler way, because I understand that this universe is very complex and goes beyond such things. Anyway, if this is something that sparks your interest, enjoy!! It was a challenge in some parts, but I'm pleased with the result. I hope you like it too.

(I left out a good portion of the dance events excluded in this story, since the goal was to focus on the Alpha and Omega dynamic. So it's very subjective whether there's a dance about to happen or not, and I'll leave that to your imagination.)

Happy reading!

Word count: 11k

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you may find.

You couldn’t remember ever feeling so immensely uncomfortable as you did now.

“No, no, no…This can’t be happening now.”

You felt heated and heavy in your body, as if you had been soaking in a steaming bath for too long. As if you had been lying too close to the scalding breath of your dragon’s flames. Your fever was getting worse. Your steps were starting to stagger slightly, sweat dripping down your forehead as you let yourself lean against the stone wall of the hallway for a moment.

There was no doubt what was happening, you had been in enough heat over the years to know when you were sinking into one. The thing was, you weren’t supposed to be in one, not for at least another whole month. In fact, up until a few minutes ago you had been stuck at a normal dinner with your family, listening to Aegon’s disgusting and disrespectful jokes and trying to calm the silent tension between Lucerys and Aemond. Nothing was different there. Everything was going as dull and tedious as ever.

That is, until Aemond reached out to grab a piece of bread from your side. And that simple, seemingly harmless gesture was the catalyst for everything that was deeply held inside you. The movement brought his side closer to yours, almost unnecessarily closer you would say, and you were about to voice that thought out loud to him when it hit you.

The scent.

You couldn’t say what was different, what made you so intimately aware of that smell, since you had been around the man since you were children. Maybe it was the unprecedented fact that you were sitting next to each other at the dinner table after the deliberate distance you had forced upon yourself and him over the past few years. Maybe he was about to come into a rut of his own and hadn’t even noticed yet. Or maybe Aemond had been drinking some tea or some herbal substance to suppress the worst of his own smell all this time and for the first time he was free of it...

The thing was, with that simple movement of picking up a damn piece of bread from the table, he had shoved into your nostrils a whiff of the most delicious scent you had ever smelled in your life.

Dragon scales, the burning flames of a fire, open parchments and green apples. The memory of childhood, of an old feeling. Familiar and comforting, soothing your inner omega, making you want to delve deeper into the scent and wrap yourself around him. But it also aroused you. His scent was undeniably masculine and Alpha, with a dangerous and dominating richness that made you want to submit - right there, at the dinner table, in front of the whole family.

The whole thing mixed together in a spiral of aromas that flowed straight into your lungs, pulling an absolutely embarrassing and undignified meow from your lips before you could even realize it. Judging by the annoying chatter that continued at the table, no one had noticed that sound, thankfully. No one except Aemond - who was right there next to you, unfortunately. He stared at your tense profile with a sharp gaze, his hand extended for the bread, but frozen in the air before he could reach it, not even disguising that his focus was now elsewhere.

Even staring fixedly at a bowl of sauce on the table as if it were the only thing in the world that mattered, you could clearly notice when he was about to say something and, at the same time as he parted his lips with a sigh, a strong and sudden tightening in your lower abdomen was present, the space between your legs contracting and relaxing to emit a pool of absolutely unexpected moisture on the delicate fabric of your underwear.

Your body's reaction horrified you so much that you immediately pushed your chair back, the loud creak of the wooden legs on the stone floor drawing the attention of the others at the table. You could only quickly mumble that you weren't feeling well, that you were going to get some sleep and asking please for no one to worry, before practically running out of the place, barely hearing your mother say that she would send someone to check on you later.

Which brings you to the present moment.

Emotions were already starting to get the better of you. The intensity of the sensations leaving you on the verge of tears, the sheer desperation born of falling into a heat without being in the least bit prepared for it making your fingers tremble.

Usually there would be a prelude, signs that would serve as a warning of the approaching heat, giving you time to properly prepare yourself for the intense days ahead. But this time you seemed to have skipped all the stages straight to the peak of the sensations, without warning and without preparation.

All you could do was force your staggering body through the hallways to your bedchamber, knowing there was no other alternative. The heat was here, whether you wanted it or not. And despite everything, this was one of those few moments when you felt grateful to have been born into such a noble house.

Omegas comprised the smallest part of the population, followed by Betas and Alphas. But although fewer in number, omegas were violently desired - especially by alphas. Their smaller, gentler build, delicate features, natural predisposition to submission and, of course, their heat, were just a few reasons why the rest of the population would go to great lengths to keep an omega for themselves. And you knew what happened to those poor omegas scattered throughout the streets of King's Landing and throughout the Seven Kingdoms, without any choice over their own desires, nothing more than slaves to their unfair biology.

There was no mercy when one of them went into heat, yearning intensely for the claim of an alpha - no matter who was. Which led to unwanted pregnancies, sexual slavery, omega trafficking and other heat-induced atrocities. The alphas, in turn, gave in to their most basic instincts when faced with such need, acting more like animals than humans. The brutal confrontation for the claim of an omega most often ended in blood and death - not only of alphas, but death of the omega in question many times, caught in the middle of such unbridled violence.

Despite being rare and desired for their instinctive subservience, omegas were constantly discriminated against, treated with disdain and irrelevance once they are claimed; as pariahs of society, nothing more than perfect breeding mares for the alphas. More than once you vehemently cursed the gods for making you one of them. The burden caused by your designation was almost unbearable. You would give anything to be a Beta; to fit into a standard of normality in the eyes of the people for once in your life. Wasn't it enough to suffer ridicule and discrimination for the questionable origin of your and your brothers birth? Did the gods still need to come and make you an miserable omega?

Ever since you had your first heat at fourteen, you had suffered this fate alone, since any omega of noble lineage could only be claimed when they were of suitable age to marry. Servants stocked your bedchamber with everything you might need in the days following the heat; the finest towels and blankets for your nest, personal beta guards posted day and night at your door for protection, servants discreetly entering to change your bath water and replenish your food and drink supplies. You had all the comfort and privacy that wealth could offer, but your body still yearned for an alpha — your omega begging for a knot, for large hands to hold you close, for sharp teeth to sink into your flesh to claim you as his. It was instinct, uncontrollable, a need so primal and overwhelming that you cried for days, sweating and writhing in the large, lonely bed as you screamed for an Alpha.

But when your heat was gone and this ordeal finally came to an end, you felt grateful to be safe within these walls, hidden from the violence of the alphas who would only desire you for your secondary designation.

And your foggy mind whispers it to you once more. Despite everything, you are safe. Just go to your chamber, make your nest at some point of relief and you will be fine. Like always.

And so you almost do - the large, ornate doors of your bedchamber visible at the end of the hallway, making you sigh in relief. Until a voice halts your final walk.

“Do you need help, Princess?”

The booming, recognizably Alpha voice makes you flinch where you stand, eyes widening as you turn to the source of the sound. Standing there is one of your Personal Guards, Ser Adrian Redfort.

“I-I’m fine, Ser.” You reply hoarsely, straightening your posture as best you can to support your false statement, your heart racing in your chest at being in front of an Alpha just as your heat begins to build.

“Are you sure?” he asked slowly, tilting his head slightly in curiosity — but also with something hard to describe shone there, something dark and shrewd. “You don’t look well.”

And by the gods, you really didn’t. Your face was flushed to the point where you could feel the heat radiating from your skin, a few loose strands of hair beginning to stick to the sides of your face from the sweat. Your intricate dress were wrinkled and uncomfortable on your body where it clung to your damp skin, and you were breathing hard, as if there wasn’t enough air in the castle.

“Yes, I-I’m sure!”

You had never been afraid of the man in front of you — he was one of your Personal Guards after all, someone who was there to protect you. And that was why he was never around when your heat gave signs, replaced by Beta Guards. For your safety. His being assigned to protect your chambers tonight was proof that this heat shouldn’t have happened now.

He sniffs you, a slow twitch of his nostrils that could have sent your entire world crashing down, growling low in his throat at whatever scent he can pick up coming from you. The alpha in front of you is tall, with a dark mess of curls on his head and equally dark eyes. The stubble on his tanned cheeks makes him look rough and sullen. His broad shoulders beneath his armor seem to swell even more under your shy scrutiny and his posture straightens to full height, a show of strength to win over a potential mate.

You weren’t afraid of him. Ser Adrian Redfort, despite his intimidating appearance, was a man of honor, you knew.

But not even the most honorable men were immune to the powerful pheromone an omega released during a heat. They were all alphas, after all, driven by the primal instinct to claim a small, unmated omega.

And when he stares into your eyes like that, his expression as intense as a forest fire, alpha pheromones seeping from his pores so suffocatingly that you might as well have a bag over your head, you feel like you’ve never in life truly experienced the instinctive compulsion to bow and submit to a male like you do now.

And that’s what you’re afraid of.

You’re afraid because you know it’s not you wanting it. It’s your instincts, your pheromones reacting to his and he reacting to yours in an endless loop, the stupid biological compulsion to let an alpha take over your body and use you as he best serves him. Be good, be good for the Alpha.

You know that very soon your mind will be so consumed with heat that you won’t have such qualms or uncertainties, you’ll want — no, you’ll need — an Alpha, and you’ll beg for it, no matter who it is. But there’s still some coherence and lucidity left in your mind, reeling as it is. And using that shadow of sanity, you shiver just thinking about Ser Adrian with you in your nest; his hands on your body, his teeth in your flesh, his knot deep in your cunt.

No, no. Wrong. It’s wrong.

“I could help with that, princess.”

He proposes and you both know very well what he’s referring to. The darkness in his gaze more prominent; a thin, golden ring at the edges — evidence that his alpha was taking control of his emotions.

It’s wrong, but still you feel more moisture forming between your legs, making a sticky mess on your inner thighs, reacting against your will to the alpha pheromones exuding from the man - and you almost sob, because it’s horrible. It’s horrible and no one talks about it; about how absolutely terrifying it is to have no control over your own body, even when you’re undeniably uncomfortable with a situation like that.

Your mother had raised you fierce and resilient, just like Daemon had when he came into your life as another father figure, but you still felt like a child after all, holding back tears and clenching your fists. Your only salvation was your stubborn nature and thirst to prove yourself, to prove that you were more than just a delicate and submissive omega.

Yes, a part of you was aroused to the point of being intoxicated by the sensation, but the more rational side, which was disappearing by the second, fought even harder, squirming and grunting, rebelling against your most basic instincts. Fearing the alpha more than you wanted his knot. The pungent smell of stress and heartbreak tangling deep in the air with the sweet scent of your heat.

This alpha was no good...not the right one.

"N-no, thank you," you reply, gathering all your willpower, desperately trying to think of a way out. You were trapped in an empty hallway, at the beginning of your heat, with a strong, intimidating alpha - it was not a good situation.

"Please," you find yourself arguing with him suddenly when he doesn't back down, your mouth moving before you can even think, "I know you're not that kind of alpha, Ser Adrian, it's just the pheromones getting the better of you, you'll regret it once your mind clears. I said no, please listen to me."

He steps forward anyway, invading your personal space. And as scared and aroused as you are (an honestly disturbing mix of emotions to have) you find yourself baring your teeth at him - a small growl building in your throat, standing up to the alpha who dared to disrespect your decision.

"Poor thing," Ser Adrian chuckles, the golden ring in his eyes growing more evident, your little, thoughtless act of confrontation only stirring the alpha inside him. "You don't know what you need, omega, not really. But I do."

The next thing you know, he’s advancing, so much so that you immediately back up against the wall in response, flattening your feverish, sweaty body against it as best you can to get away from him. A whimper leaves your lips as he reaches out, your body disgusted and craving the action in equal measure, making your eyes brim with tears. He’s going to touch you, he’s going to do it. He’s going to do it and still claim that you wanted it, because…well...you don’t want it, but you do too, don’t you?

A sound rings out behind the two of you.

“Get away from her, Ser Adrian.” You recognize Aemond’s voice quickly; a sharp, relieved sigh in response, your omega instantly perking up inside you. “Now.”

His voice is as calm and deep as ever, but you hear the warning there; the dark tone gnawing at the edges - a tone that promised danger if not heeded. It does something to you, fills your stomach with little butterflies - all fluttering their wings at once. A purr wanting to escape your throat. Safe, the Alpha will keep you safe. Finally.

Ser Adrian’s expression darkens as he senses your relief through the pheromones in the air, slowly turning his body to face the unwelcome presence. He shows no submission at all when he sees Aemond standing there, even though he knows he was his prince. You know he’s too far gone for that now. No hierarchy matters here. It's just two Alphas facing each other over an Omega.

He exchanges an intense look with Aemond, obviously communicating that you are worth the confrontation.

"What are you going to do?" Ser Adrian challenges, his hand slowly descending to rest on the hilt of the sword strapped to his waist. "I bet you don't have the guts, boy."

You swallow hard, trembling for Aemond, scared at the prospect of a fight. Your omega, once relieved, is now agonized at the thought of this Alpha getting hurt.

Aemond, for his part, remains seemingly unfazed by the older man's threat - in fact he smiles at the guard's words. A cold and sharp smile, disdainful really, tilting his head in mock consideration, his hands still casually clasped behind his back. "Do you really want to test that theory?"

Ser Adrian pulls his sword a little from where it is kept, offended by the younger Alpha's reaction, but he still doesn't remove the blade completely from his waist. Aemond, though he makes no move toward his own sword, stares at him with such acidity and defiance in his eye that it’s almost as if that was the only weapon he’d need tonight.

Alphas fighting over an omega in heat become wild, territorial, aggressive. Ser Adrian, from where you can see, is vibrating with tattered restraint, with the tension of a possible confrontation unfolding. He’s acting on instinct. But Aemond isn’t. Although there’s a hard shadow in his one good eye, a warning to his dark and unpredictable interior - he keeps himself perfectly in control. His hands are clasped behind his back, a provocative smile on his lips.

“She doesn’t smell like you,” the other Alpha growls through his teeth, straightening his shoulders, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.

“Hn, maybe I’m a gentleman and I’m going slow so as not to scare her,” Aemond replied in affront, the corner of his lip still pulled back in a lazy smile. "A concern that has not crossed your mind, obviously."

The older Alpha grunts in displeasure in his throat, casting an appraising glance at you over his shoulder, his nostrils flaring to catch your scent. And if you had control of your legs, you would be long gone by now. But not only is your heat consuming your to worrying levels, but the overwhelming pheromones that both Alphas exude in this confrontation are strong enough to make you flinch in response, exhaling your own cornered and fearful scent into the air.

"Are you saying you are this Omega's Alpha?" Ser Adrian snorts in annoyance, turning his narrowed gaze to Aemond.

"Yes." He doesn't even hesitate before answering. "Do you have anything to say or...do...about it?"

The clean and immediate statement coupled with the unspoken challenge makes you gasp, your legs shaking and threatening to give way beneath you, the viscosity in your pussy increasing in response to that easy words.

Did...did he say he was your Alpha?

Could it be that you heard him correctly? Could it be that the only man you'd ever wanted to be courted by had felt the same way all this time?

A thought you'd never dared to voice out loud, knowing full well that doing so would be nothing short of a confession. And you definitely didn't feel ready to confess any tender feelings for Aemond yet. Despite what your stupid heart told, you knew what a conflicted person he was. His sarcastic and unpredictable personality, even his tendencies toward cold words and actions at times.

But he was also...he could also be...

The truth was, you knew how you felt about him. You knew it all too well.

And while you usually managed to keep your unwanted feelings well caged and hidden from outside knowledge, falling into a sudden and intense heat like this made it significantly harder to maintain this charade, especially when his scent hung imposingly and proudly over the other alpha, all possessive and icy intentions. And especially when he so easily claimed to be your alpha.

Amidst the surprise of the declaration, you almost forgot about the challenge between both men, only coming back to the present when Ser Adrian growls something between his teeth (something that sounds very much like a curse), shoving his sword back into its sheath with much more aggression than necessary. He straightens himself before the other alpha - but even so Aemond towers over him, with his imposing height. The older one reluctantly steps away with a murderous look at the prince, maintaining contact as long as he can - it was not in an alpha's nature to give in, especially in the presence of another. Which shows that, on some level, Ser Adrian was still there, clinging to the shreds of control he had left over his own primal instincts.

Aemond holds his gaze, but looks at you again as soon as the guard disappears around a bend in the hallway, his steps deliberately heavy and dissatisfied.

"Come," he says as he approaches where you're leaning against the wall, his cold, affronted expression giving way to one that's almost angry. You feel yourself wilt a little at the abrupt change, but try not to show it, for fear of upsetting the alpha even more. "Let me take you to your chamber, it's not safe to be out here with so many alphas around the castle, especially when you smell like that."

He takes a step closer and you meow in response, your body so fragile and small next to his, his scent invading your nose again. Green apples and parchment, dragon scales and fire. Your omega immediately purrs, wanting to snuggle into this Alpha, let him protect you and take care of your needs.

“Can you walk?” He asks slowly, looking much more tense with you than he had when he’d challenged an older, more experienced alpha, his jaw clenched and his violet gaze refusing to stay on yours.

You feel something ache in your chest, not understanding why he was suddenly being so distant, even though he’d proudly defended you not long ago.

“Y-yes, yes, I can.”

Your legs are definitely shaking, but you still force yourself to take the final steps to your chamber, your dress clinging to your body in the most uncomfortable way, your damp thighs rubbing against each other and creating a friction that makes your skin crawl all over.

Aemond stands rigidly beside you, walking at a respectful distance, looking like he’s barely breathing. Clearly wanting to avoid smelling you. But…but why? Doesn’t he like the way you smell? Don’t you please the Alpha?

You suddenly feel frantic, scared by the knowledge that you’ve lost him before you’ve even reached him.

This is something you could handle normally. Gods, you could handle worse than this, normally. You’ve been putting up with your conflicting feelings for him for years. The heat is just making you feel silly and sad and…pathetic…

But knowing this doesn’t make it any better. It doesn’t help. And before you can stop yourself from doing something stupid, your mouth is moving.

“Why did you say that?” You ask as he opens the door to your chamber for you to enter, staggering and panting, nearly tripping until you fall onto the ornate sofa to catch your breath as if you had run all the way across the Red Keep to get here.

“What?” He asks vaguely, glancing discreetly into your chamber, but not entering it. Looking at your space. Where the things that please your omega are. No alpha has ever had such a view. But he can, you decide. You want him to look.

“Why did you say you were my Alpha?”

For a few seconds, all you can hear is the rapid beating of your heart and your breathing. He had left you in your chamber as he promised, and you began to fear that he would simply ignore the question and leave now.

“I don’t know,” he finally answers, interrupting his checking of the environment to look at you; though his gaze is vacant and distant, as if he is trying hard to just pretend to look at you. "I thought that would drive him away without the need for a physical confrontation. You wouldn't have been satisfied with such aggression, I imagine."

You bite your lip to contain a moan as you feel a strong wave of cramps in your lower abdomen, your head swimming in the rising heat, as if reacting instinctively to those words. He worried about you, about what would leave you unsatisfied.

And later, you would tell yourself that the next question was solely guided by your messy, chaotic hormones, by his enchanting scent filling your sensitive nose. Anything to exclude your conscious guilt.

"What if it were true?"

Aemond blinks, finally looking at you. For real this time. "If it were true what?"

You take a deep breath, your heart beating so fast you can feel it straining against your ribcage.

"That you're my Alpha." You mumble, cursing your own mouth as soon as the words come out. But it was too late and he had already heard each one of them. "What if...what if you really were?"

For a long moment he says nothing, just stands there, stoic and magnificent in his white hair flowing over his shoulders, dark clothes and hands behind his body, staring at you with an almost alarmed expression. And you are so nervous, so messed up with all these intense emotions and this miserable heat burning your body that you find yourself mumbling to fill the maddening silence he maintains, your hands fidgeting as you gesture them in the air.

"Y-you could come in. You could stay here, with me, if...if you wish, of course. I really-"

Aemond shakes his head suddenly once, his gaze darkening at you.

"That's not a good idea."

The way he says it, so firm and direct, his expression hardening into something determined, makes you shut up immediately. The saliva in your mouth is suddenly too thick, your heartbeat painful.

“Oh.”

The rejection stabs you like a sharp dagger, piercing your chest through to the other side in one fell swoop, and you feel like crying. Your bottom lip trembles, and you stare at the opposite wall, nodding weakly. Honestly, how many more ways did the gods plan to humiliate you?

All those years of hardening your feelings for him, keeping yourself away to keep them from growing any further. And you were doing well. Everything was going well. But then, the one time you let yourself harbor a small flame of hope, he rejects you so easily that you wish you could eat the words back, pretend it never happened.

“Right, yeah,” you mumble, limiting yourself to a few words in case you start sobbing out loud. “I understand. You don’t…” You sigh, hurt in a way that only an omega rejected right during their heat, the most vulnerable moment, could sound. Stupid, stupid hormones, you hate feeling this way. “You don’t want me. It’s okay.”

“Wait — what? You think it’s because I don’t want —” Aemond breathes out an incredulous laugh, finally pulling his hands from behind his back to rub them down his face, frustration clear in each of his sharp lines, making your omega shrink even further inside you. Alpha is dissatisfied, help him, calm him down. Despite your increasingly stronger instincts, you manage to stay in the same place, with your shoulders slumped and your breathing anxiously in your chest. "Of course I want you. You have no fucking idea, Y/N, I swear. But this..." he points to your body, to your disheveled condition and watery eyes, "...this is just the heat. You don't really want me to come in there with you. It's just the heat and when it passes, you'll regret this request."

You sigh shakily at his statement, at the restraint he's showing even as he lowers his clenched fists to his sides; jaw tense, preventing himself from breathing too deeply and taking in more of your scent. The intensity in his gaze making your heart race as he stares at you, his brow furrowed in an unreadable expression.

It all makes sense now.

So that's it, huh? He was trying to stay away because he thinks you only want him because of the heat. He thinks you would regret this. He thinks you only want him because he is an unbonded alpha who conveniently happens to be here at this moment.

God heavens, you wish that was all it was.

"It's not just the heat."

You whisper to the imposing room and he sighs deeply.

"Y/N..."

"Let me speak, please."

He holds your gaze firmly and dominantly, almost making you tilt your head down in a natural response of submission, but to your relief he ends up giving in after a few seconds with a stiff nod of his chin.

You wet your lips. "Yeah, I'm going into a sudden heat and I might be partially driven by instincts here..." You mumble weakly, the heat making your body shiver and your mind swim, but you fight to keep yourself together as much as you can in order to convey to him what you really need.

"But Aemond, I shouldn't even be having a heat right now, I'm nowhere near my normal cycle. Y-you, oh fuck -" you gasp in pain as an intense cramp makes you curl up completely over your own body on the sofa. Aemond instinctively reaches out to help, but stops when you hold up an open, shaking palm to him. "N-no, wait. I need to finish saying this." He doesn't look pleased, but he does as you say, waiting impatiently as you shift back into a sitting position, breathing slowly through your teeth to try and calm yourself.

“Do you know what sent me into this sudden heat in the first place?” You ask quietly when you’ve finally gathered yourself enough, your watery eyes glaring at the man in front of you, begging him to hear what you really mean.

“What?” He asks back, holding your gaze with just as much intensity.

You take a breath. “It was you. It was your scent, Aemond.” Your brows furrow at him, trying to hide the shiver that shakes your body as another painful cramp wracks through you. “I-I’m surrounded by unbound alphas here at the Red Keep; Aegon, a few Gold Cloaks, the Kingsguard, my Personal Guards, a few nobles from the court. Every day I see them and interact with them and yet none of them have ever sent me into an uncycled heat. Never. Only you.”

His gaze is dark and heated, a stormy violet, his expression tense and expectant.

"B-but even if my omega didn't feel that way, even if you weren't an alpha...heavens, you could be a beta and I'd still want that, with you." Your mouth is worryingly dry, which you find to be a fair contradiction to how absolutely soaked the middle of your legs is. "Because I've always liked you. Ever since we were children and you would teach me Valyrian late into the night in the library, hidden from our parents and the guards, far better than any Maester could. Or when I claimed a dragon and you were so genuinely happy for me, even though you didn't have your own dragon then. And when everyone laughed at me at court? They made jokes about my birth, but you always defended and protected me - even if you happily let my brothers be fed to the wolves." You smile shakily with the little self-control you have left, which elicits a small snort of disdain from him. "Y-you've taken care of me and protected me all along the way and I've always felt safe with you. And that had nothing to do with your designation."

Aemond exhales heavily, a husky and unmistakably masculine sound, his alpha clearly pleased to hear that you felt safe with him. A shiver runs through your body in response to that primal sound, your belly tightening and you want nothing more than to beg him to take you, or to leave altogether and let you take care of yourself - alone and apart, as you always have, but this time suffering from the rejection of the only alpha you've ever truly wanted.

Still, you force yourself to continue.

"B-but then you introduced as an Alpha and I as an Omega and everything changed. I pulled away because you didn't seem like the same Aemond I knew. You had changed. You were quieter, more mysterious, darker. You didn't invite me to go to the library or to fly with you and Vhagar. You pushed me away. I-I didn't know how to deal with it, it felt like a wall had been built between us and I didn't know how to deal with it...walking away was the easiest way, I guess. But I never, I swear I never forgot...I just-"

You didn't realize you had started to cry. Then everything you had said just hit you like a punch in the stomach. How exposed you had left yourself to him, open and raw as a nerve. But there was no going back.

"If you don't want me, that's okay. I-I'll deal with it. But I need you to know that it's not just the heat, Aemond."

You end with an almost anguished sound, another storm of emotions rising up inside your chest, too strong to be repressed. Your hands release their grip on the upholstery to move restlessly up to the scent glands on your neck, scratching and clawing at the sensitive, pulsing skin with a degree of desperation that only makes your true feelings clear. Everything hurts, everything burns, everything screams for relief, for large hands and sharp teeth. The Alpha's scent so close, yet so far away...

You're going crazy as he remains silent and it's almost like torture, his presence becoming both a delight and a punishment for your omega. The next wave of heat hits so intense that it makes every hair on your body stand on, a shock of cold and extreme heat on your flushed skin. You bite your lip hard to stop from moaning, legs squeezing together to ease the aching throb in your clit - the torturous emptiness of having nothing inside your body when it's all it's needs.

"P-please, if you don't...if it's not what you want...leave me alone. I need to be alone now Aemond-"

“I always know when your heat is here —” he cuts you off in a calm voice, his nostrils flaring slightly as he inhales deeply; a husky, appreciative sound vibrating in his throat as he allows himself to feel you properly for the first time all night. He enters your chamber with careful steps after that, but it’s the sight of his hand splayed on the wood of the door that makes you feel like you could faint right there; thick veins beneath pale skin, fingers long and elegant, adorned with thin, regal rings. You hold your gaze there as he gently pushes the wood shut with an audible click that makes you shiver in response, heart thundering in your chest.

He’s here, in your place. Just the two of you. The Alpha is here.

“No matter how much your mother, your maids, and the Guards do their best to hide you in this secluded chamber, I can always tell when you’re in heat. Even from across the Red Keep I can still smell you — warm, buttery, sweet as vanilla and cinnamon; like something that just come out of the oven, familiar and comforting like home. Like you belong to me —”

Aemond’s bright gaze is fixed on yours, watching you with predatory focus, like a carnivore about to sink its teeth into the tender flesh of a poor deer. Your chest tightens. Instantly, it’s as if an imaginary rug has been pulled out from under you and you’re weightless, even sitting as you are. The moment stretches between you like caramel, tantalizing and promisingly sweet. You arch your back and undulate your hips against the soft upholstery, as if that will soothe the itch. Instead, it spreads across your abdomen like a cloud of fire. You shiver and moan.

“I hear you crying, screaming as your heat is at in peak, begging for a knot. The whole damn Red Keep can hear it, sweetheart.” You’re panting and very, very aware of the slick slide of your poor cunt sandwiched between your thighs as you moves in restless undulations, of the blood roaring in your ears, and of the hungry look in Aemond’s eye, whose pupil is so dilated that his eye, once a pale shade of violet, is almost entirely black. He breathes very slowly, savoring the increasingly intense pheromones you exude. "Aegon usually runs to a brothel whenever you're in heat, as do most of the castle's Alpha Guards. But not me. I stay here...smelling your disturbing scent, enduring the miserable torture of hearing every muffled sound - fucking my cock between my fingers as I imagine doing this, giving in to your tearful plea. You have no fucking idea how many times I've had to stop myself from walking through these doors and giving you what you so desperately beg for, pup."

"Alpha," you sigh, cry. You've never called him that — or any other man directly — but the familiarity and naturalness tastes like molasses on your tongue now, and you repeat it helplessly. "Alpha…"

You could hear his harsh breathing, see his hands tightening into fists. He tried to hold back, but all you could think about was having him buried inside you. Having him rock his hips against you. "You were right, all this time. Ever since we received our designations I feel like something in me has changed. Sometimes it's like I have no control over this new side of me..."

Your breath hitches in your chest and you unconsciously lean into him, breathing him in. "W-what side?"

He sighs; hoarse, troubled. "This side that desperately wants to bend you and fill you until you're leaking with my seed, until the only scent that comes from you is mine...only mine. To sink my teeth into your soft flesh to claim you, to make everyone know who you belong to. It's maddening. It's dark. I'm constantly consumed by primal desires that scare even myself."

"Aemond," you beg, savoring the name, rolling it across your tongue like caramel.

He crouches on the floor, right in front of you, letting your heights equalize for the first time, both hands resting on your knee. You moan at that, tilting your head closer to him to breathe him in, letting the strong, warm, and safe scent of this alpha wash over you.

Your stomach tightens and you grip his arm tightly, bracing yourself, gasping as your inner muscles flex and spasm. Aemond strokes your knees with his thumbs as you shiver. The weight of his hand on you is equal parts comforting and tempting.

You were in the prime of your life and you were going to die.

There was no other explanation for the way your heart was beating fast, like a rabbit’s, at the way he lingered on your skin — at the way Aemond remained still and stared at you, in a way that, frankly, would have been quite flattering if it weren’t for the way his nostrils kept flaring.

“I’m sorry for putting you through this,” you truly did, but you also felt like you couldn’t take it anymore, “but I want you so much, Aemond. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Don’t be. I want you too,” he growled, leaning down to whisper against your ear, his nose gently brushing the curve of your neck. "So fucking much."

Submission was instantaneous then, without the slightest hint of reluctance or rebellion. Your neck tilts back, throat exposed to the alpha, letting him nuzzle your scent gland and inhale deeply, whimpering happily at having him there, his warm, familiar scent enveloping you safely. Omega condescending. But it’s more than that. Omega eager, the scent of your heat intensifying, overflowing between your thighs, which open instinctively as he encloses you with his hands braced on the sofa, and your happy little cry turns into a needy mewl.

His nose slowly moves up to caress your face, gently nudging the curve of your cheekbone. “Can I kiss you? Fuck, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for years.”

You nod enthusiastically against him before he even finishes the question, your eyes closing as his sweet, warm breath blows across your lips. You’ve dreamed of kissing him too, ever since you could remember.

The first touch of his lips against yours was like coming home, so right and so familiar that it almost scared you, if only the heat haze wasn’t disorienting your mind.

You wanted to enjoy it more, to take it slow, but by all the gods, the level of desperation in your body was unhealthy.

Your lips open like a flower beneath the alpha, hands gripping those long, silky silver strands, pulling him closer and closer. Feeling his jaw move rhythmically beneath your fingers as he opens and closes his mouth to lick your tongue, catching your bottom lip between his teeth in a teasing bite. Your legs swing to wrap around his waist, pressing inch by delicious inch of your bodies together. You moan into his mouth, feeling your pussy rub indiscreetly against the hard planes of his stomach, blood rushing to your groin as sticky moisture flows dramatically from your intimacy.

Aemond was perfect, you swore the alpha tasted like chocolate and wine on your tongue, that he felt like heaven against your fingertips. You could smell the arousal in the air, the way he growled into your wet kisses, and the way his large hand clenched in the fabric of your dress on your thigh.

He nestles his hands between your ass and the upholstery, helping your hips sway against his body, not wanting to let you go. His gorgeous, dilated gaze flickers to you as he breaks the kiss, gently kissing your tear-stained cheek.

“Sweetheart…tell me you accept my claim,” he demands in an eager tone, tracing the soft skin of your jaw with his lips to brush the nape of your neck again, where your swollen scent gland burns and throbs. The gentle pressure of his lips there has you squirming, practically melting into his strong hands. “I need you to understand what I’m asking. Please, focus on me, omega.”

You nod, tears weighing down your lashes. “I do, I do. It’s always been just you. Please, Aemond!”

He pulls back at this, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his pale skin as his breathing becomes shallower. His scent seems to increase, overwhelming every inch of your chamber with his pheromones. Running the tip of his tongue over his upper teeth, you see a glint of his slightly elongated incisors. The golden ring at the rim of his eye. His body, no doubt, reacting to the omega’s pheromones, pushing him into his own rut. You feel like you can vibe to this, the omega pleased to know he has this effect on the alpha.

“A-alpha, it hurts,” you whisper.

“Shhh, I got you, love,” he soothes you, though he’s losing control himself, gently nuzzling your noses together. “Put your arms around my neck. That’s it, good girl.”

He stands with you wrapped around him, carrying you toward the four-poster bed. The thin silk of your skirts soaks where his forearm braces your thighs.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet.” Aemond barely holds back a rough groan as his lips come close to your ear, clearly enjoying the way your body is already ready for him. His knot. You whimper, licking the salt from his throat and moaning. You try to straddle his waist once more, try to lower yourself and bend over, feel the thick, hard line of his cock, the bulge of the knot you know is already forming.

You barely realize you’re being placed on the bed. You barely notice his fingers undoing the knots of your corset and pulling the delicate fabric of your dress off your body. You barely notice the gentle words he whispers in your ear, the praises for your omega. The haze of heat takes over your mind and leaves you adrift, confused, needy. It's all a blur of desperate pleas and crying.

It's only when his body, naked and as absurdly heated as yours, lies on top of you that some coherence returns. The sensation of his feverish skin on yours makes you shiver all over, your cheeks burning - although you can't tell if it's just from the heat or the embarrassment of feeling him like this.

He looms large over you, as alphas tend to be, but in a way that makes you feel secure rather than intimidated. His lean, elegant muscles tense endlessly beneath his soft skin, the flames of the fireplace bathing his pale, sweaty complexion in a beautiful orange glow. The tips of his hair slide hypnotically over your skin, sending shivers down your spine with each contact.

"There she is..." he shivers with satisfaction when he feels the heat allow some of your consciousness to return, his hand wrapping around the delicate curve of your jaw to drag you into a feral kiss while he presses your body against his as if he would die without it. Rut, your confused mind answers. He is falling too. And yet, you were still empty and needy. 

"N-no nest...there is no nest, Alpha...I couldn't make it...I didn't know, I d-didn't have time - please, I'm so sorry -" You stammer between gasps and sobs on your lips, your omega dissatisfied with not having a nest where the Alpha could curl up comfortably with you, let his knot sink in and keep you warm and safe throughout your heat.

"You're such a good omega, worrying about this..." he mumbles, kissing your chin and jaw, his hands fidgeting at your sides. "But it's okay, love. Your heat will last for days and I'm not going anywhere. We'll have time. We'll use the breaks between heat waves and I'm sure you'll make the most comfortable, cozy nest for us. I can't wait to see it, omega. Promise you'll make a good nest for your Alpha?"

"Yes, yes! I'll make the best nest, alpha..."

"Yeah you will, my good girl..."

When his mouth reaches your glans on your neck again, you know it's red and raised, waiting for him to touch it. 

"Stay still baby," he whispers and you're not sure if he's talking to you or to himself.

His first lick against that spot hits you right in the heart. Your breath is ragged with each press of his tongue, and you can’t help the small purr that escapes your chest. When he growls in response to the sound, vibrations coursing through your glans, your hands grip his broad shoulders in desperation.

“Please, gods, please—alpha, please!” Your skin is feverish and taut, tight as a coiled spring, and you need…more. Your hips roll upward, and at the feel of him hard and solid and huge against your core, you almost come right there. Your wrists move, one behind his ear and the other toward the top of his shoulder, and you rub them subtly against his skin, the only thought in your head is for him to smell like you.

“Alpha, please—” That needy plea seems to be enough to rob Aemond of what little control he has left. He wraps those soft lips around the glans and sucks hard, making your eyes roll to the back of your head, your entire body trembling and flushing with heat.

“Omega,” he growls into your drooling skin, his primal instincts kicking in harder than a sword blow, thrusting his wet cock into your belly. “Tell me what you need.”

You barely blink before begging. “Fill me, please.” Your fingers tangle in the leather of his eye patch, pulling it away so you can take in the full extent of your alpha’s immaculate beauty as he takes you. The turquoise stone glows for only a few seconds before you sink your fingers into his silky hair, guiding his mouth back to yours, pulling him in for another heated, hurried kiss.

And with that touch of his lips, you both lose yourselves. With a guttural sound that goes straight between your legs, Aemond is everywhere.

A large hand is on your neck, his thumb pressing against your chin, opening your mouth for him as his tongue meets yours. Using his other hand, you feel the gentle pressure of a finger against your swollen, throbbing clit, eliciting a cry from your mouth clamped to his. You’re lifting your hips, stroking your own tongue against his as he rolls your clit on his thumb, his cock sliding against your hip again and again, leaving your skin wet with pre-cum.

It’s all a cacophony of sensations, too much and not enough. It’s magnificent, but not what you need.

What you need is him, right now. 

Gods, you wanted to enjoy this moment, this first time, savor every touch, every new sensation, every taste and smell, but you both knew that you were at the height of this unexpected heat. Anything other than him inside you at this moment would only be torture for your body and your needs. You sob with desire on his lips, tears streaming down your face as your arousal reaches a level beyond painful; unbearable.

He pulls his face away from yours.

Pupil dilated and his tongue darting out to wet those sinful lips, flushed and swollen from your kisses.     

Hungry. 

He looks hungry. 

"Y/N," he says breathlessly, dropping the designations for a moment, even giving up his own rut-driven instincts, to call you by name, and your eyes widen in response, pupils dilated like an endless abyss. "Do you want my knot? Is that what you need right now, baby?" You hold his gaze with a lucidity that no longer exists, but unconsciously understanding the seriousness of this moment.

"Please, please, I'm going to go crazy if you don't do this. I need it, Aemond. Now."

His growl vibrates in his chest and through yours, making you moan in response and wrap your legs around his waist. Your pussy is absolutely soaked with your own arousal. You had never produced so much fluids before, even during your heats. On the other hand, you had never had an alpha promise to give you his knot before.

Something itches in your mind, driving you to present yourself to him now, whispering for you to turn your body and let him take you from behind, this position would be better - more chances of a successful knot. Instinct, obviously, since you wouldn’t have any previous experience to draw on. And you almost do, placing your hands on his shoulders to push him away. The turn, however, is interrupted by large hands on the sides of your waist, firm but still gentle as he keep you lying with him between your legs.

You frown at him in confusion.

“Please, no. Not this time.” He whispers feverishly, leaning his sweaty forehead against yours, breath puffing across your parted lips. “I know instinct tells you otherwise, just as they are telling me, but I want to see your face. I need to see your eyes as I take you for the first time, sweetheart.”

It’s not an order. Not exactly. It’s more of a request than anything else. But you obey anyway, captivated by his need to have you in this way, for his strength in resisting his own Alpha's demands and take you the way he, the men, wants.

Warming up to the desperate cadence of your low mewls, he lines his hardened member up toward your center, your omega more than ready for this. The tip pokes a few times into your soaked folds, seeking warmth as he settles himself.

It’s an almost sacred moment, even in the haze of heat.

The chamber goes silent as he enters you for the first time, thrusting inside, slowly and steady, one hand coming up to the side of your face, the other gripping your hip possessively, his gaze locked on yours. Your hearts beat in sync, the fierce need to be joined to each other growing like a wildfire. The head of his cock barely enters before the world simply stops. He begins to rock his hips, slowly at first, so slowly that it’s almost provocative, but it’s delicious and cathartic, and you never want it to end.

Besides his hungry gaze on yours, the second thing your drunken brain registers is that it doesn’t hurt.

First time penetration should hurt, right? You’ve never had sex before, obviously, but you know that the first time should be uncomfortable, at the least. However, your body accepts him with easy submission, with your own abundant sticky wetness easing the way, and all you can feel is the same relief that his arms offer, the smell of him. You moan between teeth, satisfied, and reach out to grip his arm as he thrusts into you, feeling the muscles ripple under your touch. He groans your name once more and his erection pulses against your walls.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he demands. “Tell me you’ve kept that perfect pussy for me all this time.” 

Of course you were his. The fact hadn’t always pleased you, but you’d known that since you were children and running through the halls of the Red Keep. You always knew you were made for him, and you held on to that bitter dream even when you tried to pull away from him. So it was only natural to let your animal instinct take over, exposing the truth as if it were the only thing that mattered.

“I’m yours, Aemond. I’ve always been yours.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. "Only yours."

“F-fuck,” he stutters, your pussy greedy and desperate as it molds itself to accommodate him. “You’re going so well for me, pup. Such a good little omega.”

His lips press against your cheek as he pants, struggling to hold himself together as he feels the full length of his cock inside your folds. And you sense that this is your weakness. Green apples and parchment, flames and dragon scales. He’s warm and comforting, fitting between your legs like he belongs there, like you’re his home. It’s divine how you mold yourself to accommodate him. Easy, as if it were a normal thing, and you had done this together a thousand times before.

Aemond takes a deep, shuddering breath.

And then he begins to thrust. Slowly.

You were soaked and desperate, but Aemond was an Alpha and, well, you were a virgin just a few minutes ago. His restraint was understandable. But you wanted more, needed everything he could give you...

You didn’t realize you were speaking out loud until he answered. “I’ll give you. Fuck, I’ll give you anything you want, baby. I’m yours.” His voice took on a deep, husky tone that sent goosebumps across your skin. “But I need to make sure you’re ready first.”

You whimper. “I can take it,” you promise. “Come on, Alpha. Make me yours!”

Aemond’s large body trembled with the restraint of going slow, his muscles contracting restlessly beneath your fingers. At your words, he groans and suddenly thrusts deep. The air rushes from your lungs, and you dig your nails into his back, gripping tightly as your body struggles to adjust to the massive intrusion.

He pulls back to get a better look at your face, to make sure you’re not uncomfortable. And by the gods, you’re not. Your omega rolls over and shows the belly, satisfied and purring, vibrating with joy at finally having his alpha take you. His thrusts don’t stop, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re so beautiful, omega, so fucking beautiful. So good for me, pup.”

Your eyelids flutter with the long, delicious drag as he pulls out, pussy clenching his cock like it doesn’t want to let go, and the emptiness he leaves hurts, no matter how quickly he pulls away. Then he thrusts back in and you breathe once more.

“Yes!” you cry out, wrapping your arms and legs around him, clinging to his lean but strong body. “More, Alpha. Please!”

Aemond curses and then sets a steady, pulsing rhythm in his hips. Each entry was slow, each thrust back hard and intense. He fucked you like he flying on Vhagar’s back: confident and assertive, teetering on the edge of control but never losing it. The extent of his control was crystal clear as he breathed into your lips, his gaze keeping yours, his forehead sweaty and his eyebrows furrowed, even as you shuddered and moaned and clawed at his back.

You were wetter than you’d ever been, drops running down between your thighs to soak the sheets. The sounds of your joining were loud and filthy, filling your chamber with moans and growls, the wet, rhythmic slapping of skin on skin, and the harder he went, the more animalistic you both became. You were soon moaning and sobbing with every thrust, while he grunts and growls in your face.

When he swallowed hard, his gaze was, without any choice, drawn to his throat; the Adam’s apple bobbing, the veins high in his neck, his scent glands. He nods at your gaze, and you’re suddenly overcome with the need to touch him — to taste him.

You lean forward and place your mouth over his gland, alternating your tongue and lips between sucking and licking the heated skin, panting into his skin in time with his thrusts. He groans, broken and hoarse, his hips slowing to fuck you less hard, more slowly.

“Y/N, fuck, I need—”

He’s worryingly heated against you, his own rut peaking, silver strands of hair sticking to his sweaty face.  

“Me too, Aemond...I need it so bad it hurts,” you cry, pressing your face against his scent gland, breathing hard. He nods, settling into a rhythm that, while less frenetic than it was a moment ago, is brutal in its intensity. Your thighs tremble around his waist, though Aemond is definitely the one doing the heavy lifting. His knot nudges against your pussy, pressing, clamping, and pushing against your entrance with each thrust.

“I can feel you getting close,” he whispers in your ear. “Do you want to come in my knot, pup?”

Your head falls back and you moan loudly as he hits you again, and again, hard and stand, and you’re right on the edge — close enough that you can feel your orgasm building in your lower back, threatening to overtake you at any second.

Yes, yes, yes, your omega cries out in response to his question. It’s all you want, all you need. To come with the Alpha’s knot inside you.

“Yes,” you sob. “Please!” 

As his knot begins to force itself inside you, everything becomes shockingly clear. You know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were made for this. To take his knot, to sit on it, to come and clench around him until he paints your insides with his seed.

“Oh, good girl, almost there—” His voice grows lower, rougher, darker. “Yeah, that’s it, spread those pretty legs a little wider and let me—fuck, yeah, that’s it, puppy—”

Your purpose is singular now, as his knot stretches your entrance. He forces your opening almost to the point of pain, even as wet and stretched as it already is, but biology is on your side. You strain for his next thrust, and with a searing ecstasy, you feel his knot push a little deeper inside you.

The next movement, like everything else tonight, is guided only by instinct and basic need. You hold the back of his neck, guiding his lips to the junction of your neck and shoulder, tears streaming down the sides of your face until its soak the sheets.

"P-please, make me yours, Alpha. In every way."

Aemond sighs longly on your skin, leaving wet kisses there, his breath warm and tense. His body is so intimately attached to yours that each thrust makes your breasts drag against the hard planes of his chest, teasing your sensitive nipples. Each undulation of his hips rubs your throbbing clit against the trimmed hair of his pelvis. It is torture, the most delicious torture.

"You're going to fucking kill me, love." He half smiles half growls, gently nipping at your shoulder, just a shadow of what you really wanted from him there. You grip him tighter, frowning as you mewl dissatisfiedly through your teeth.

He silences your mumbled protests with whispers of your name and designation, intoned in an encouraging tone against your skin as he guides you closer and closer, and you feel your thighs tremble around his hips as you prepare to be pulled under. Your toes clench, body ready to jump into the waters that threaten to drown you, all you need to do is let yourself sink. Let your body surrender to what you were designed to do.

“Come for me, Y/N,” he growls into your shoulder, the vibrations coursing through your body, his fingers digging into your hips, leaving marks on your skin that your omega accepts with pleasure. “Come for your Alpha and then I'll give you my knot, I swear.”

And with that encouragement, you submit completely. The command to surrender to the pleasure was all your body needed. A primal scream rips from your throat, and your body shudders beneath his. Your pussy clench around his cock, desperate and needy for what only he could give you. And it’s nothing like cumming with your own fingers.

Aemond, feeling your walls tighten around him, thrusts harder; a long groan through his teeth before biting down hard on your shoulder, his sharp incisors tearing the skin until you’re screaming. Despite the shock of pain, your fingers dig into the back of his neck, pushing his face into the bite, wanting more. He growls at this, thrusting his hips forward one last time, burying his cock deep as his knot finally expands inside your pussy, locking him in place and joining you together.

Your spine arches, your breasts pushing against his chest with a long, broken groan that seems to escape straight from your core, your body clenching around his cock before contracting almost painfully. Aemond grunts, nearly falling on top of you as he shoots inside your pussy, filling your insides with his cum.

Entire galaxies shimmer behind your eyes as a second orgasm rips through you, just by the sensation of it being his, irrefutably. And you cling to your Alpha as he graces you with slow, shallow thrusts, his seed filling you beyond your limit. You can almost feel it filling your womb, spilling from your core and dripping down from where your bodies join to coat the sheets beneath you.

He licks your raw flesh when he releases you, whispering praise as he wipes away the blood dripping down your skin, and the throbbing in his cock begins to slow.

But though your orgasms are over for now, you know you’ll stay glued together until his knot comes undone. Your arms tighten around his shoulders until he sags, letting the weight of his body collapse onto yours, and you savor the comfort of being smothered by him. Your omega purrs, rubbing your cheek against his sweaty shoulder, trying to cover yourself with as much of his musk as possible.

The chamber is silent, except for both heavy breathings and the crackling of the fireplace.

It takes you a moment to recover. Your mind is drunk but relaxed, satisfied. And then a hand slides down your arm, broad and warm and absolutely everything you need. He takes your hand in his, so small and fragile in comparison, noting how both are trembling before lowering his lips and placing a kiss on your knuckles.

Your eyes open into lazy slits at the feeling and it’s only after what feels like an eternity that you realize it’s raining; thunder rumbles around the castle as flashes of light illuminate your chamber through the windows. But you don’t feel afraid. Because inside you are warm and safe beneath your Alpha. You both gasp together as he locks his gaze with yours, his lips swollen and a little red with your blood. An unspoken question flashes across his expression, the tops of his cheeks flushed and his skin sweaty, his gaze beginning to return to its usual violet hue. You smile in response, something vague and lazy, but enough to show that everything is okay.

With a relieved nod, Aemond can’t help but gently stroke the damp hair stuck to your sweaty, flushed face, slipping an arm under your back to cradle your head with his other hand. “Good?” he asks, his voice hoarse and rough, punctuated by another small burst of semen that makes you shiver and laugh softly.

“You’re big,” you say, flexing slowly with a fragile sigh, eliciting a breathy laugh from him as well - his head turning in a weak reprimand, as if he doesn’t surprise with your cheeky response at a time like this.

When he rolls to the side, you hum happily as feel him wrap your body around him to bring you with him, still intimately embraced and joined by the knot. He lies on his side, arranging one of your legs over his hip, your head hidden in the crook of his neck. Both of you bracing yourself for the time it would take for his knot to deflate.

You feel completely exhausted, sated now that you’ve received what you needed from the Alpha. Your mind is clearer and more aware, finally letting the extent of what you’ve just done sink into your bones. But you know it won’t last long, another wave will soon arrive, your heat had only just begun and the days ahead would demand a lot from both of you.

“Shhh, just sleep, pup. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Aemond whispers into your hair as he feels your restlessness begin, a large, warm hand slowly running up and down the curve of your back and thigh in a soothing gesture, the other arm stretched out beneath your head to serve as a pillow. “I’ll take care of you from now on. Trust me.”

With those words your eyelids begin to grow heavy, the almost painful stretch of Aemond’s knot, still deeply trapped inside you, fading into a comfortable tingle. And with a sigh of relief, you allow yourself to snuggle closer to his body, his familiar scent now ingrained in every inch of your body, feeling protected and cared for - without any doubt that he would keep his promise. The soft throb of his bonding bite on your shoulder confirming it.

He is yours now. And you are his.

[szftzy]

yandere batfam concept!

okk so what if, batfam! but mc is a senior, around 18, about to graduate. they work a part time job paying off expenses, while cramming studies and what not. quite a productive life style right?

well, it most definitely gets tiring. thing is, mc knows two brothers around their age, and knowing them for quite a while. sure they were intimidating at first, but you grew to like them as good friends! the younger brother being feisty, while the older one witty.

now you forgot to bring up a fine detail, they were billionaires. more specifically— waynes.. now i know that was a crucial detail but bare with me here!

now, the mc is not a leech. they would enjoy treating themselves, but their dignity as a hard working person doesn't let them! that includes asking of anything from their filthy rich acquaintances.now, when the brothers had invited them over on their behalf, after a while of knowing them, it was pretty awesome.. like not to be dramatic.

now as they had kept sleeping over one or two times, they had meet the rest of the siblings. they had quite a big family, (5 brothers, 3 sisters, a butler and their dad.) of course having equal excitement for each member they had met, but definitely not amounting to the adore they had for their dad! I mean cmon, he built this empire by his bare hands! you'd like to know if you could get a tip or two on how to be successful, ya know.. for the near future.

now that you think about it, that makes you more excited to hang out with them. their family dynamic is so bizarre and so full of life, you do get a bit jealous at times— but never in any bad intentions, you are more than happy for them! plus if it gets you free delicious cookies from the butler, your more than down!

hanging out more around them makes you notice all their little ticks, everything that they like, anything that puts a frown on their face.. even though thats routine for some of them. ahem ahem.. now at a point it can get lonely, like your so invited in the family, but not at the same time..? its sorta difficult to explain, so just never-mind.

now it does get to a point where the mc, gets their own room! now you definitely had a guest room, but at some point your room starts to have life. its not a guest room anymore, little by little it fills up with your interests, your favorite colors, anything that you would like. although subtly gets noticeable over time. now it definitely had a bit of childish tones about it, which was weird considering you were about to be a legal adult.. but okay?

Now at this point, Its nearly graduation. now this would be a joyous event, if not for the fact you were planning on leaving for metropolis.(of all places?) as a kid, you always knew you didn't wanna stay in Gotham, it being the dangerous and gloomy city, although it had its pros, the cons were way more.

And you definitely had grown to adore your friends, they almost feel like family at times, but life has to go on. right?

when they heard about this, they were not elevated for sure.. for a while after that it was just awkward smiles and weird tensions, neither side being happy with what was gonna happen, but you had to.

before school got too busy, you decided to go out with them more! they insist on sleepovers instead of going outside, which you don't really understand why since it wont make a difference. maybe its because they were billionaires or something.. Man rich people are weird.

Anyways, when it came time for exams, you had nearly stopped going out at all. concerning them immensely, but it had taken you a while to assure them you were studying. much to their dismay. (weird, that was something they always detested? their not setting a very good example.) now when you finished up exams, and your graduation ceremony occurred, of course they had to be there!

and after that, they would start bombarding you with text messages, each text had a personality where without even looking at who sent it you could tell who it was from, each text begging you for something. it was always something about— come over! stay! dont go! say goodbye! yada yada yada..—

now it gets annoying at a certain point. but you had decided to pay them one last visit, having packed your stuff and everything done early, you decided it couldn't hurt— oh really now?

your last dinner with them, was interesting! at first the tension was as thick as a wall. for the most part it being small chit chat. but over time, you guys had regained your flow of conversations, everyone chatting and laughing actually having a good time. now their dad doesn't join in alot, but when he does, he also does have fun! which is a bit odd, but its adorable.

when he kindly offered you chamomile tea, you politely refused, but since he insisted, you decided to take him up on his offer. now this wasnt anything weird since the waynes were very generous, but now for some odd reason everyone was staring.. which you tried to pay no mind to.

but as you continue drinking the tea you felt more and more woozy, knowing to just stop and put the tea down..

suddenly a rough hand from behind firmly grabs the cup and gently peers it up to your lips, in total shock you had tried to push the hands away, but it was to no use. you could only watch as you kept drinking the obviously drugged cup, feeling the other hand rubbing against the small of your back soothingly..

you were only a little bit conscious here and there.. enough to feel someone easily carrying you, leading you somewhere, and tad bits of conversations that slipped your mind before you could comprehend.

now waking up in this room, the room you had a bad feeling about.. surrounded by comfortable pillows, big cute plushies, and soft large sheets. to your surprise you were also changed in the most comfortable silk pajamas. it almost coerced you to fall back asleep but you knew better!

you immediately jumped up and ran up to the door, quite obviously secured with locks from the outside.

you tried pushing the doorknob but to no avail, now due to your panic you just froze. immediately lying down on the floor from shock, tears bubbling up.

you buried your face into your knees, and just started sobbing your heart out— why now?! why now of all times to ruin your life? just when it started to get good for you..

you then hear the sound of keys being forced open, and then the door gets kicked down. did someone come to save you? at the doorway, their was the brothers! both with worried looks on their faces, the two ran up to you and immediately locked you in their warm yet suffocating embrace

they immediately start apologizing, for not being there when you woke up.. wait what? they're not here to help?

then it all connected, you were an idiot.. yesterday.. this room. it was obviously their doing. you attempted to sprint off the minute they loosened their grip, bad move.. they were gonna let you explore the manor. but now they knew you need a few months to get adjusted.

now they had tried to not overwhelm you too much, their precious baby, only a few batfamily members being there at a time. sometimes all of them would be there, but at that point you would be napping. unaware to the eyes adoringly watching you drool on whoever had the fortune to carry you that day.

they're so affectionate towards their sibling/kid to a point where its infantilizing. like they will just hold you down for hours, whispering sweet nothings as you lay down in the comfiest bed you can imagine of.

of course sometimes you can still leave your room here and there! ljust not the manor itself. (like you cant leave, ever.) and yes you can still do all your favorite hobbies, darling.. but I'm a little afraid its too grown up for you.. how about we lay down for a nap, okay?

not to mention— you used to have a job, before they confined you. you used to have studies, responsibilities and issues— all that? no more, we'll take care of all that.

don't start questioning them why you suddenly feel lightheaded and tired right after waking up from another nap. its definitely not the tea they just coerced you to drink! again! you probably just thought a little too hard for your fragile brain.. its okay, just rest your head in their lap and let all your worries go away. <3

and you couldnt even fight back! you were not blessed with the best height or physique, and not to mention even the members who didn't fight as much, still had years of technique and experience! yeah.

and now all of a sudden anytime a conversation gets even the slightest bit mature, they'll cover your ears and act like your not there, or have another member of the family escort you to your room for a nap. you don't need to know any of that, sunshine. and if you try to insert your own take on the topic? they'll just laugh, no baby.. your too precious to actually understand these big conversations. maybe when your older?

on the topic of your room again— it is the cutest, most comfortable room someone could think of! filled with your favorite colors, big pillows and plushies.. way too childish for your tastes.. but at first when you had slept over you didn't mind. the room had no windows, you didn't think much at first. not until they had started adding more locks to your door? and apparently your room is soundproof?

no wonder any guests they have over cant hear your pleas of help, thats even if you were allowed to be awake when they came over! please forgive them.. they're just so overprotective, and feel so jealous if someone comes near.

oh and if someone questions whats the door with alot of locks, positioned right next to your dads, was for? well they'd either just change the topic as quick as they could, or give them a filthy look that would make them reconsider ever asking that question.. poor guy.

It evolved from just staying over at your rich friends house, to being under lock and key, as their little baby for them to cherish and adore.

soo this was jus a lil drabble, but lemme know if you guys want a part 2 or something longer!

[aphroditesmoon]

tide

clarisse la rue x poseidon's daughter

summary: clarisse and reader have been rivals since they first met, but when someone does a harmless prank ends up seriously hurting reader, she throws all thought aside to save her.

warnings: enemies to lovers ish, drowning, reader can't swim (ironic), cursing

wc: 3k

---

It's rare that any camper get to leave camp at all, and all of them getting to leave at the same time is even more suspicious.

But no one complained when they were offered a little vacation by the river for a day. Finally, a break from all the training and learning.

Unfortunate events usually follow along after good days, but as of this moment right now, you refused to think of the Gods' dirty games with each other and how you'd all eventually be used as pawns. Whatever hurricane coming after will be dealt with when it happens. But today isn't about them or any other war you'd be forced to fight in. Today is about the campers for once.

You lounged against a large rock in your dark blue swimsuit while the others played in the water, swinging themselves of the wooden bridge from a rope. Any animosity that ever existed between different cabins disappeared today. Everyone is one and the same, and everyone regards each other as family.

You dipped your toes shyly into the clear water as you leaned back on the rock with your eyes closed, bathing under the golden sun that lit your skin up like gold. The weather was as joyous as the people's exultation, There is a certain peacefulness that spreads in the air and it was nice.

The laughter and chattering provided a feeling of comfort that you find yourself lacking these days. Being a half-blood meant adapting to the uncomfortable and dangerous, and so these kind of days where you feel that you could just exist without a burdening expectation over your head is immensely appreciated.

Your sunbathing is interrupted when you feel a shadow looming over you, and drops of water falling onto your face. Opening your eyes, you're met with a dripping wet Luke Castellan grinning down at you. "Move, you dog." You squealed, wiping the wetness off of you. He shook his head violently, scattering more water over your body, making you scream out in annoyance. "I will kill you!" You declared loudly and shoved him with your feet, making him stop.

"What are you doing on dry land, daughter of Poseidon?" He asks, unaffected with your teasing threats.

"Don't last name me, and I'm sunbathing." You informed and shoved him to the side with your feet. "Sunbathing? You're supposed to be in the water, is that not your natural habitat?" You smiled despite yourself and shook your head.

"I'm perfectly fine up here, so you can continue having your fun down there." Luke nodded absent-mindedly. "Oh it's definitely fun, alright. Though on a random note, did you notice at all that a certain someone has been sending death glares in your direction?"

You frowned, "who-?" Luke interjects. "Don't look behind you-" too late, you turned around anyways. And lo behold, Clarisse La Rue's eyes met yours, and you have never seen her twist her head around as quickly as she did at the moment.

"Oh, her." You sighed. Luke gave you a curious look of curiously. "I never understood your rivalry, not even right now." You shrugged and closed your eyes back again.

"You can go ahead and ask her about it. She just can't stop finding issues with me, always in need of an argument." It's true, you thought.

Sure, there are plenty of moments where you fought first, wanting to get your lick back. But it was all in response to her hostility first. And even now, on a day where everyone ought to enjoy themselves, she would rather stare you down so intensely, ruining her own day.

You still remember the first time you realized that she hated you. It was after you were claimed, while everyone else was in a pleasant mood, mostly surprised. Her expression is one of annoyance. Because how dare anyone here shine brighter than her. You both were still so young at the time. But it only got worse over time.

She had thought that you'd subjugate yourself to her like some coward. But you stood your ground, a daughter of Poseidon would not cower from another half blood like a spineless creature.

And as much as she's a vengeful fighter, you could also see the glint of admiration growing in her gaze over time. She didn't want to admit it, but she had finally found someone her own size. You, of course, usually dealt with things as pragmatic as you could, but some bullies are begging to be bullied back.

It wasn't all bad though, sometimes it was even fun. Like two children being petty for the sake of pettiness.

"At least one of us is enjoying our day." You thought aloud. You didn't miss the scorned expression on Clarisse's face before she looked away. "Are you enjoying your day?" Luke asks, folding his arms together.

He always thought he was good at reading people. And maybe he was with some people, but you pride yourself in being unexpected. Sometimes you say things you don't mean and do things you wish you didn't have to just to get by. People only knew things about you that you wanted them to know. Let them in a few stories and they'll think they've successfully interpreted you.

And as much as you liked Luke, he is not an exception.

"Yes, I just told you I am." He hummed in question, making you open your eyes again. "You know it's not everyday we get to leave camp like this, and you're spending it on dry land? You can sunbathe anytime you like back there."

"Why are you so keen on getting me down there?" You inquired, amused. "Because there is no way you're getting me to get in there, I mean I just had hair wash day."

"Are you sure about that?" Before you could answer, he had bowed down and grabbed you by your waist, throwing you over his shoulder.

"Luke-" you shouted out, the sudden movement taking you by surprise. It was easy to understand what he was going to do when he began running towards the bridge. You felt your blood run cold.

"Don't throw me in! I swear to god Luke-" You yelled with all your heart, but the boy seemed to assume that you were joking as he laughed at your words.

"Off with the fishes you go!" He responded and swung you off of him and straight into the large body of water. You were sure that your scream probably reached Tartarus itself as it definitely exceeded your lung capacity. The last thing you remember screaming out was 'I'm going to kill you', but those words had died on your tongue in a speed as you fell deep into the river with a splash, causing everyone near you to run out in shock.

You could hear some laughing and clapping as you melted into the water, but it all started dissolving until all you could hear were gurgles and distorted noises. You felt yourself begin to struggle while you flapped your arms around, trying to stay afloat. You were sure that you were going to die when no magical breathing miracles saved you from suffocating and drowning.

You flapped your hands and feet harder, attempting to mimic swimmers, hoping that you'll somehow take up swimming naturally despite never learning to do so for your entire life. The irony of being a daughter of Poseidon that can't swim isn't lost on you, it is exactly why you never told anyone about it. If they knew, you'd be the joke of the camp.

A solid minute has surely pass before you gave up completely in ever swimming back up, now the doubt that you were ever Poseidon's child begins to creep in on your last moments of being alive. Because surely, even if you can't swim, your father could just magically pop you back up.

Unless he is just severely disappointed in your lack of ability and deems you fit to die instead of just humiliating him. And at this very moment, you honestly would agree with him.

Your last conscious thoughts are interrupted abruptly when you felt a strong push of ripple plunging into the river, you could barely open your eyes as you continued to sink in, but the sight of a recognizable face, diving straight your way, woke you back up from the dead.

You weren't sure how to feel as sharp and hollow pain began attacking your chest while you watched the brunette swim fiercely, her hair moving wildly like strong waves hitting shore.

Her right arm circles your waist as her left one slipped under your arm, urging you to grab onto her. And grab onto her you did.

She pulled you with her easily, her hold on you firm as she swam back up. Your head throbbed at the sudden fast movement, but once your head rises out of the water and you're able to breathe again, it slowly fades away, leaving you dizzy and grateful.

"There you are." Clarisse exhaled. She sounded relieved as she gathered you into an embrace, making sure you stay afloat. "Don't pass out, stay with me for just a little more."

I'm not passing out, you wanted to argue, even at this second. But the only thing that escaped your lips is a groan of agony. "Stupid fucking imbeciles." She cursed under her heavy breathing. You almost assumed it was targeted towards you until you noticed the plural nouns added in her sentence.

"I can't-" you started, "don't say anything." Clarisse interjected in a stern tone.

Your body was limp when you both finally reached land. Everyone moved away, letting you lie down against a large boulder. You felt Clarisse's hands slowly slip away from your skin, though she's still hovering over you with a worried gaze.

"Make way!" Chiron's voice thundered through the air. Clarisse turned a deaf ear at his command and stayed by your side, but for whatever reason, he didn’t reprimand her for it.

"Who's smart idea was it to toss your friend off into the river?" Chiron asks, scanning the confused and surprised crowd of people for any guilty faces.

Luke raises his hand, unafraid but apologetic. "I didn't know she can't swim." He stated honestly, and you hear some of the other campers agreeing with him.

Clarisse's eyes remained locked on yours. You wait for any sign of mockery to appear, a hint of condescending somewhere waiting to come out, but none appears.

You could hear Chiron sighing tiredly, "Well, no one did." And he's right, what Luke did was supposed to be a harmless joke. It is unexpected that you of all people would not know how to swim. Clarisse breaks her gaze from you as she turns towards Chiron. "They didn't have to know that she can't swim to be able to see that she was drowning." Clarisse snapped, her brows furrowed together. Before the situation could end up worse than it already has, you waved your arm up and yelped in pain. "I think I'm going to pass out." You lied.

"I can get her back to the tent back there." Clarisse offered, or stated moreso. Chiron granted her permission with argument, and with that the whole crowd dissolves back into the space the same way they were before, only some spared you some glances as Clarisse helped you walk slowly towards the small tent that's slightly further from the river.

The walk back was quiet, neither of you are brave enough to start a civil conversation. It was only after she had helped you sit criss crossed inside the tent and was ready to leave that you managed to insert a small thank you. She paused in her steps and slowly whirled around to face you. "I'm teaching you how to swim when we get back." She says as a response.

It was neither a threat or an offer. Taking your silence as an agreement, Clarisse nods her head once and walked off towards her siblings, leaving you distracted and deep in thought about what just

---

It was a paradoxical situation, and yet neither of you had it in yourselves to point it out.

Perhaps amiability towards Clarisse wasn't as difficult as you'd thought it would be. But your biggest concern wasn't regarding yourself, it regarded Clarisse and her own capability of remaining amiable towards you.

She was never one to practice self restraint. Everyone in the whole camp could vouch for that. And yet here she is, knee deep in the sea with her hands holding onto your wrists, ushering you in.

"You can't stay on the shallow level forever, you need to get in deeper." She repeated for the fourth time, frustration was visible on her face.

"No, I'm telling you I can't-" you argued. Clarisse sighed in annoyance, "I'm not going to let go!" She insisted. "Yes you will, I know this trick." You glared at her like an upset child.

Her anger almost diffused as you saw a hint of humor painting over her face, as if she's trying not to laugh in your face. "I'm not tricking you, I don't waste time on tricks. If I wanted to hurt you somehow I would've just shoved you in and left." She explained in a pleading tone.

"That's very reassuring." You responded sarcastically, trying to pull away from her, but her grip was strong. "Stop acting like a child." Clarisse chided.

Your eyes widened in offesne before you started pulling your arms harder to get her off of you. "Stop it!" Clarisse yelled out, her patience thinning. You said nothing and continued to drag your feet backwards, little movements were made as Clarisse was weighing you down like a log. "Let go of me." You demanded through gritted teeth.

Her face contorted in anger, and just as you began pulling again, she let go of you completely, "fine."

Unprepared for the push of gravity, your feet slipped against the mix of rock, seashells and water, making you fall on your back, squealing in panic. You flailed your arms around trying to balance yourself up, and just before your back would be plunged down, Clarisse scrambled to wrap her arms around your back, saving you from your fall.

"Oh my god." You gasped out, palms over her shoulders. "No god," she replied dryly. "Just me."

Relief enters your chest as your feet are flat against the ground again. But it was temporary, looking at her smug expression compelled you to act as stupid as you just did, shoving her off strongly, you didn't take into account that she was still holding you, and so as she crashed, you followed along on top.

"Oh my fucking god." Clarisse growled loudly spitting up water as you crawled off of her to stand up. "You did not just do that." Sitting up, she scowled and stared down at you, looking like an angry soggy kitten with her hair and face wet.

"Well, I did. What are you going to do about it?" You snarled, wiping water off of your face. "Hey, I am not a child throwing a tantrum like you." She snapped back.

"Oh, that would be a first time for you." You scoffed at her words and walked out on her.

"Where are you going?" You heard her call out. "Away from all this bullshit." You could hear her quickly running after you, water splashing loudly as she moved.

"Look, do you think I want to do this?"

You twisted your head around to meet her gaze. "Then don't!"

"Okay." She breathed out, shrugging like it didn't matter. "But it's clear right now, that everyone knows your weakness. And not even your own father has your back right now. I'm the only one who does."

The fire in you refused to die down, but her words reduced you to ashes. Your shoulders relaxed and you took her appearane in.

She's right, your whole life, everyone had given up on you, except for yourself. You taught yourself everything and you fought to survive daily from the horrors of being a forbidden child. And this one thing, which happens to be the worst weaknesses of all considering your position, is something you can't teach yourself to do. Hell, you couldn't even bring it up without feeling like shit.

But now it's all out in the open. The jokes might be bad, but what's worse is getting hunted down and killed in ease by monsters and gods who knew that you'd have no one to protect you, not even your dad.

"Why do you care?" You ask sincerely.

She was silent for a while, looking away immediately. Not embarrassed, just deep in thought.

"I don't know, maybe I just...I know what it's like. To feel helpless, to have to pick yourself back up. And normally I don't give two shits about what anyone else feels. But I know you, and you know me. And maybe-" She inhaled deeply and finally turned to face you.

"Maybe we can help each other."

You raised a brow, "and why would you need my help, you could, I don't know, take over the world if you wanted to."

She actually smiled at that, something you rarely see and hope you would do more of. "I know it's hard to believe, but I'm not perfect."

"So, what? Are we friends now?" You ask.

She shrugged her shoulders again, "Let's start with that, sure. Now, if you can get your ass back in here, I promise I won't drown you or anything, and you can actually learn how to swim like you should've years ago?"

You took a deep breath, wincing at the idea.

"It's not as hard as you think, I know it's terrifying to think of yourself in a position where you have no control." She attempts harder, stretching out her hands towards you.

"If I drown-" you started and was quickly cut off. "You won't. I got you."

If she had uttered this sentence to you about two days ago, you would've laughed because you couldn't imagine a situation where she would have your back. But today is a different day.

[k1ng-ej]

Hi! I saw you opened Shadow requests, I wondered if you could do a Shadow x reader where the reader was the result of an experiment, like Shadow, and the two find each other after the 50 years of separation (once Shadow wakes up in the present day). They would've lived on the Space Colony Ark together, and during GUN's invasion, they were separated in the chaos. Shadow is sealed away, not knowing the reader's fate - whether they're alive or dead - and then 50 years later, some time after waking up, he finds them again. I guess it's a kind of angst/hurt-comfort/happy ending type of thing? Anyway, I hope you consider it :)

Ultraviolence

Note: thank you for the request! this one took a little longer because i tried a different style/approach with it and experimented a little with the wording, i hope you enjoy it! lore is a mix of events that took place in the movie, and some from og lore. and side note, all other requests are being on hold, as i am going out of state for my birthday in a few weeks, but ill get back to them when i return!!

. . .

The sound of shouting followed by gunshots rang through the halls of The Ark, the rushed footsteps that seemed to be gaining on you sent a jolt of fear through your body, and you instinctively held onto Maria's hand tighter. You and Shadow could've outran the soldiers, but you both silently agreed to not leave the only family you had behind. Everything was in chaos, people were scattering and pleading for their lives as they had firearms pointed in their face, ear piercing alarms had been set off, an ache beginning to form in your head. You, Shadow, Maria, and Gerald were running from agents of G.U.N, unsure of what fate laid ahead for you all. As you glanced behind you, you could see them aim, an older male was demanding they stand down, but they didn't listen. A shot fired off, the group skidded to a stop and your eyes scanned over everyone in search of where the bullet had hit. Everyone's gaze seemed to be somewhere else, before you could follow it an explosion went off. The impact sent waves of pain throughout your entire body, you felt yourself being flung across the room, your body collided with something solid, and immediately you lost consciousness.

When you came to, the first thing you felt was the throbbing of your head, then the immense pain in all of your limbs. Peeling your eyes open, you were greeted with a white ceiling. Taking in your surroundings, you immediately realized you were in some sort of hospital room. The room being a sterile white, the faint scent of a cleaning agent in the air, and the quiet sound of your heart monitor caused a pit to form in your stomach. Unfortunately, these rooms were never a good sign for you. You were another project alongside Shadow, made to help cure Maria's illness. Like clockwork, you had tests being performed on you, and you were poked and prodded with needles for hours until your skin was sore. Shadow underwent the same treatment, doctors often worked on you both in the same room, you could feel your heart break each time you saw the empty look in Shadows eyes. Luckily, Maria would come around and sneak you two away from the relentless tests to go and watch movies or do some other fun human activity.

Your mind was flooded with the memories of what transpired on The Ark, your body started moving on its own as you began to sit up. All of the wires that were hooked up to you tugged, and any needles they had under your skin pulled uncomfortably. You had to know what happened to Maria and Shadow, you didn't see what happened to them in the explosion, and you weren't sure how long you had been unconscious.

"Welcome back," A feminine voice rang out from beside you, you jumped. You didn't notice her beside you. She was dressed in purple scrubs, holding a clipboard in her hand that you could only assume held all of your information on it. You watched silently as she scribbled a few notes down, then approached you.

"Where are they?" You were surprised by the sound of your own voice, hoarse and quiet, like you hadn't spoken in weeks. The doctor sighed as she began removing some of the wires attached to you.

"I'm sorry."

That was all she said, your heart sunk in your chest. You knew all too well this was doctors favorite thing to say when delivering unfortunate news to waiting families, you can thank all of the sad movies you watched with Maria for that. You sat in your thoughts as the lady in front of you began performing a basic checkup, making sure your health was in order. Shadow was created to be the ultimate lifeform, could he really be taken out by such an explosion? Did he and Maria get the worst of it? You were starting to spiral. What were you supposed to be if Maria was not around anymore, what is the purpose of your life? Would you forever be cursed with being a lab rat?

"If you'd like, I can catch you up to speed with everything." Your doctor finally broke the silence, shining a small light into your eyes. You nodded, waiting for her to continue.

"You've been in a medical induced coma for the past 50 years. The accident you were involved in left you with severe injuries, and everyone agreed to keep you asleep for our own safety," She paused, removing the blue disposable gloves from her hands. "We have woken you up because we have tests we need to run on you. With Shadow no longer around, you're the only thing left for us, and we believe you hold the key to curing even the deadliest illnesses."

A small, yet powerful flame fueled by anger ignited within your chest, providing a warmth no other emotion could. Its flames threatened to grow into something bigger, more dangerous. But you had your hands tightly secured onto its reins, having a firm grasp on the destructive emotion. She talked about keeping you asleep for their safety as if you were going to harm them, like you haven't let them constantly experiment on you without putting up a fight. You've let them draw blood from you until your head spun and vision blurred, you willingly let them bring you to your weakest state and they still think you are hazardous. The mention of Shadow being gone caused your frustration to fizzle out, instead turning into sadness and emotional pain. Your chest constricted painfully, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. Maria would always tell you and Shadow that you were much more than things to be studied, and, in her words, you were your own people too and could exist outside of the reason you were created. You often saw Maria as the light to your dark and isolated life, she was a saint, undeserving of the illness that had her clutched tightly in its grasp. Maria deserved a long, happy life, and she deserved to return to Earth, her home, and breathe it's fresh air instead of the stuffy air onboard of The Ark. Memories of Shadow and Maria replayed in your mind as doctors and scientists crowded into your small room, approaching you with scary looking devices and whispering among themselves. This was the first time you would be without the comfort of your only family. You glanced over at the door, expecting to see a familiar blonde girl enter, ready to swoop you away from the never ending tests, but she never came. Your eyes wandered the room, looking for the comforting and reassuring gaze Shadow always gave you during times like these, but he was not here either.

Your perception of time was distorted, exacerbated by the absence of clocks or calendars in the facility. Each morning, you were awoken and examined, a routine that felt interminable. It was a grueling schedule: wake up, see several scientists, eat, sleep, and repeat.Your life had been reduced to a meaningless routine. While part of you wished to believe that this was in line with Maria's wishes, that they would find cures for diseases, you knew she would not have wanted it this way. You felt that you were not treated as a living being, but rather as a mere experiment and a subject for medical procedures. This caused you to feel angry.

In Japan, located far away from civilization was a G.U.N facility. Inside, they harbored a very dangerous and important project. Project Shadow. He was suspended inside of a tube, forced into an eternal sleep state. Inside of this tube, he could recall the memories of a girl, she played guitar, danced with him, and introduced him to movies. Next to this girl was another project, just like him. You overtook his memories and thoughts, flashbacks of the time you two spent together playing in his mind. He could vividly remember the sound of your voice, the tired look in your eyes, and the giggle that seemed to only come out when Maria was around. He remembers the explosion, he was knocked unconscious but only for a few minutes. He remembers Maria's body, the physical and emotional pain he felt upon realizing she was gone, that she was taken from him. You were his next priority, he searched the rubble for your body, but did not find it. Finally, through all of the commotion, he could see G.U.N agents carrying your unconscious body in a small, cramped crate. From where he stood he could only make out some of your injuries, broken limbs, stray metal pieces had pierced through your skin, you were in critical condition. Shadow was confused, alone, and scared. The two things he held dearest to him had just been taken from him, in the blink of an eye. It was devastating. It was infuriating. Shadow was aware that he was being held asleep, and that only angered him more. He needed to know what happened to you, if you were dead or alive.

The guards that were in charge of watching Shadow noticed a spike in his vitals, immediate worry washing over him and the others. His containment tank was destabilizing, Project Shadow was waking up. The guards readied their firearms, exchanging worried glances. Crimson eyes shot open, the atmosphere in the room growing increasingly dark. Shadows heart and mind was gripped tightly by the hands of rage, his whole body felt like it was burning. In one swift motion, he had punched through the glass that separated him from the G.U.N agents. Liquid poured from the tank, and a soaking Shadow stood, fists clenched and eyes glowing with anger. Before the guards could get a chance to shoot, the hedgehog was already taking them out. With ease, he knocked each one out, one by one. His thoughts were clouded by rage, and he would stop at nothing until he found you, and took revenge for what happened to Maria.

Under the twinkling lights of the night sky, the moon met the ocean in a passionate but momentary kiss. His fists clenched so tightly he dared to draw blood, eyes burning with a fire only the sun could possess. The water laid calm tonight, light ripples across the glimmering surface. Inside of the heart of the ebony hedgehog, waves crashed angrily against each other, roaring so loudly the calm, more reasonable thoughts could barely be heard.

The surface was disturbed by the hastened movement above it, Shadows air shoes providing reassurance that he wouldn't plummet into the dark depths of the water beneath him as he rushed toward the main land of Japan. Unfortunately, he was already drowning and he didn't know it. The neon lights that brought life to the city were the first thing he noticed when he made it onto the streets. Skidding to a stop, he took a moment to take in his surroundings. Maria always talked about how beautiful Earth was, and she couldn't wait for the day she could return. Now, as Shadow stood in the middle of the street, a passing car splashing water onto him, the only feeling that gripped his heartstrings were pain and grief for everything he had lost that day G.U.N raided The Ark. His attention then focused on a large sign on a building, it was then he realized he had been asleep for 50 years. He was treated like some sort of alien, thrown into a tube and sealed away for decades. Maria had always treated him like a brother, despite his origins she never looked at him with fear like others did. She always welcomed Shadow with open arms and reassuring words, as she did with you as well.

The sound of an overhead helicopter and approaching vehicles snapped him from his thoughts, that previous fiery rage replacing the grief and loneliness he was feeling. He had no idea where you were— if you were even alive, but he knows that G.U.N last had a hold of you, and if anyone knew where you were being kept, it was them. He made swift work of the agents, being sure to keep one alive so he could inquire about your whereabouts.

"Where… are they?" He growled into the ear of a driver, gun pressed into their temple. The driver trembled, hands shaking as he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

"I- I don't know who you're talking about!" The driver exclaimed, eyes screwing shut as he awaited his inevitable demise.

"Y/N? Does that ring a bell?" Shadow pushed the muzzle of the gun roughly against his skull, the driver was visibly sweating bullets upon the mention of your name. This caused Shadow to quirk his brow. "You know who I'm talking about."

"They are- they are being held in a facility off-grid!" He cried, for an agent of G.U.N he was easily shaken up, that was possibly why he was given the job of just being a driver, tasked to take experienced soldiers out on the field.

Shadow held the man at gunpoint as he drove him as close as he could get him to the facility you were being held at, other members of G.U.N were aware of the situation, and were sending reinforcements. The fiery storm that was raging within the hedgehogs mind easily burned away the reasonable thoughts that crept in his thoughts, causing him to be reckless with his decisions. In his mind, he was doing the right thing, taking revenge for what G.U.N did to Maria, and finding you. Shadow knew he was probably considered a criminal due to him taking the lives of officials, and if he were caught they would not be so nice to him. But, he was confident in his ability to get through just about anything the universe decided to throw his way, He was The Ultimate Lifeform, after all.

After not long, the armored vehicle came to a stop somewhere on the edge of Japan, and in the distance Shadow could see the lights of the building you were supposedly in. His heart drummed against his rib cage, doubt that you were even here slithered its way into his mind. He didn't know what he would do with himself if he got inside, and you were nowhere to be found. He didn't want to imagine the pain he would feel if he found out you never made it, and fell from the injuries you suffered from the explosion.

"Have you been drinking enough water?" Your doctor, who's name you learned was Shauna, asked. She had the tendency to act very caring towards you, giving you false hope that maybe she did see you as more than just something that was created in a lab, but then she would go back to acting cold and indifferent towards you, the change in her demeanor happened too quick for you to process.

"Uh, yeah." You answered slowly, watching intently as she began to take your blood pressure. You weren't sure how long it had been since you first woke up, but all of the tests had been put on a halt, which you were thankful for. Your routine now consisted of waking up, having a bland breakfast, and wandering around the building until it was time to sleep again. Much to your un-luck, there wasn't a lot for you to do, it made you miss Maria. She always had something for you to do, whether it be watching a movie, arts and crafts, or an activity that had the possibility of getting you all into trouble, there was always something to keep you entertained. Now, your days were filled with boredom and loneliness, none of the doctors had any interest in bonding with you, they probably thought you didn't possess any type of personality or had likes or dislikes.

Suddenly, an ear piercing alarm rang through the hallways, and the once blinding white lights overhead now flashed red. Your doctor visibly jumped, confusion taking over her previously blank expression. You covered your ears, shielding your eardrums from the shrieking noise. Shauna was quick to put down whatever she had in her hands, shuffling to poke her head out of the room and watch as multiple guards rushed by, shouting incoherently.

"I'm gonna go and see what's up, okay?" Shauna shouted over the alarm, swiveling her neck to look back at you. Once you had nodded, confirming you heard her, she rushed out of the door, disappearing into the crowd of confused and worried doctors and guards. This situation quickly reminded you of the events that transpired on The Ark, it caused a pit to form in your stomach, and you curled your knees into your chest in order to comfort yourself.

Due to the door being left slightly ajar, you could clearly hear the distance screams and the loud, rapid gunfire that started going off. You started questioning if yet another raid was happening, and if it was your fault. Last time, it was because you and Shadow were deemed too dangerous. Anxiety bubbled in your belly, and you silently prayed that was not the case. The alarm had thankfully ceased, giving your ears rest from its relentless blaring. You were just beginning to uncover your ears when all of the commotion outside of your room abruptly stopped, the air becoming eerily still and silent.

Light, but rapid footsteps resonated through the dimly lit hallway, accompanied by the unmistakable sounds of the doors being forcefully flung open one after another. With an intense focus, your gaze was fixed on the door in front of you, and an instinctual urge to retreat further back on the bed took over. The pounding of your heart was so overwhelming it felt as though it was echoing in your very ears, while a cold sweat began to trickle from your palms to your fingertips. You were left in a state of utter confusion and dread, uncertain of who it was that lurked outside and terrified of what their intentions could be, especially as you heard them muttering to themselves while scouring the corridor, a silent prayer whispering in your mind that weren't seeking you.

Their footsteps stopped just in front of your door, a white hand gripped the door, slowly pushing it open. You shuffled off of the bed, taking a stance and preparing to defend yourself from whomever was on the other side of the door. You were confident that you would be able to put up a fight, and possibly escape. Knowing how G.U.N operates, reinforcements and backup were probably on the way. Whoever had attacked was clearly an experienced fighter, enough that they took out several guards within minutes. You wondered if this person was alone or with a group.

Cautiously, a raven hedgehog with red highlights crossed the threshold of the room, his burning gaze scanning the vicinity.

You let out a breath you hadn't even realized you were holding, as if the weight of the world had suddenly been lifted from your shoulders. A familiar sensation kindled in your chest, igniting all of the yearning and longing you had felt for so long. Relief washed over you like a wave crashing against a rock for the first time, enveloping you in an overwhelming sense of ease and comfort. Your feet, almost guided by an invisible force, moving on their own as you took a hesitant step forward, cautiously testing the waters of this surreal moment, desperately trying to confirm whether what you were witnessing was truly real or perhaps just a vivid dream created by your mind. Could it really be that he traveled all this way just to find you and reunite? Hope ignited in your chest like a flame, flickering with the possibilities of what this moment could mean for the both of you.

Shadows eyes widened, the pressure between his brows loosening as his gaze finally landed on you. His heart had felt so empty, and cold, cobwebs and dust were all that filled his heart. For all of those years he spent in suspended animation, he only felt the icy heat of hatred towards humanity for what they had done to you and Maria, and he spent countless hours planning how he would take revenge. But, as your appalled expression reflected from his eyes, his heart warmed with someone a little more gentle, welcoming. The feeling was foreign, but he embraced it with open arms. Your name fell from his tongue in a single breath, it was so quiet you almost didn't catch it.

Without wasting another precious second, you threw your arms around his neck in a desperate embrace, warm tears cascading down your cheeks that you hadn't even noticed welling up. Shadow initially stiffened at your sudden gesture, yet he quickly relaxed, slowly enveloping your back with his reassuring arms, as if craving this connection as much as you did. Time felt as though it had come to a standstill, and you melted entirely into his embrace, his fur damp yet soft against your skin, and he radiated a comforting warmth that made you yearn to snuggle into him. In that moment, it felt like two rivers merging into one, your souls intertwined effortlessly. Sparks of forgotten flames of joy and love came to life, while the world around you faded into mere background noise, leaving only the pure bliss of your reunion to fill the air.

[burnt-by-marigolds]

A (Bitter?) Taste of Power

I’m currently in Act III of my very first BG3 playthrough. I’m enjoying myself immensely in a way I didn’t foresee; I guess I had been too tired of AAA games to believe BG3 could impress me. And yet, there’s a marvel around nearly every corner of the story.

For example, the little cutscene in the flophouse between Astarion and his siblings. I almost missed it entirely, because in my party, Shadowheart has Lathander’s Blood equipped at all times, and that thing emits light. So before I even registered there were any vampire spawns in the vicinity, two mysterious NPCs – Dalyria and Petras, as I was not-so-soon going to learn – went up in a puff of blood-red smoke, even while standing behind a $#%! wall (praise our lord Lathander and his light that shines through solid obstacles). If not for Astarion’s comment, I would probably think it was just some weird glitch on the periphery of my screen.

Anyway, several in-game hours later (and some online searching) I realized I’m not going to meet them again elsewhere and if I want the cutscene, I need to go back to a way earlier save.

But I don’t regret it. The encounter was worth every bit of lost game progress.

It’s no secret Astarion has a penchant for casual violence and cruelty. Kicking squirrels, using mind control to tell others to gut themselves – he may approve of all these actions, should Tav choose to commit them. Enough sitting around – let’s go hurt someone is one of Astarion’s lines said with such playfulness it makes me chuckle every time. And yet, at least during my playthrough, I haven’t seen him act brutally outside of combat. The spawn would approve if my Tav were a bully (he isn't), but up until now, he never did anything himself.

I suppose during Act I and II Astarion is just this kind of a mean kid who likes to watch from the sidelines, hiding behind a tougher ally, and snicker quietly. He’s probably still too scared, still feeling too weak, still trying to get the hang of his new situation. At least, that’s how I imagine it.

Travelling with Tav and others empowers him, little by little. It’s a good thing in general, but there are bumps in the road. As I watched Astarion manhandle Petras, I realized what happens if the work stops halfway – if Astarion gets confident enough to act on his own, but not confident enough to understand he doesn't need to be cruel to show others his worth.

People who are truly self-assured don't need to prove this by outbursts of brutality. They can afford to show clemency. The scene with Petras and Dal shows Astarion still isn't free of Cazador’s influence, as he keeps confusing cruelty with power and power with self-worth. So he has grown enough to take action (instead of letting others handle things and watching from the sidelines), but the underlying motivation remains to avoid appearing weak. Deep inside, there's still anxiety, fear and self-loathing.

There's one more factor that plays a significant role in this scene. Astarion acts tough in front of his siblings, because now he has backup. 

You have no idea what I can do. The sun can’t harm me, Cazador can’t compel me. I don’t need to fear him anymore.

Boastful, isn’t he? So different from the time when my Tav first suggested disposing of Cazador. I still remember how Astarion snapped at Yae for not knowing what he’s saying or who he’d be facing.

But why do I get the feeling Astarion is trying to convince himself as much as he’s trying to convince others? And that he’s trying to impress his companions as much as he’s trying to intimidate Dal and Petras?

Soon enough, the façade crumbles, as Astarion starts to discuss the event with Tav. He gets defensive, he comes up with a whole range of excuses, explanations and justifications. He may even say he's capable of doing the right thing once in a while, as if he deserves a medal for not burning Petras to ash.

I think a part of him knows he overreacted. And the insistent voice in his head tells him other companions will judge him for that and abandon him. The fear finally resurfaces at the end of the dialogue:

We are a team, aren’t we? You’re still with me?

Still placing his worth in extrinsic things, like the support of his new friends. Still so scared of being alone. Remember that memory of the year spent sealed away in darkness?

This is such a potent cutscene; it gave me a lot to chew on, especially regarding headcanons and the relationship between my Tav and Astarion. Yae is no saint himself, but the display of unnecessary cruelty gives him pause. He may need time to process what happened, and temporarily keep more distance from Astarion, which the latter will – of course – read in the worst way possible. There will be misunderstandings, angst, arguments, reconciliations.

But this is a story for a different time.

⊱✿⊰

Postscript:

The date on the file tells me I've written this text over a month ago. 

But then anxiety kicked in. What if I'm wrong? I haven't even finished the game once, I have no right to join in the conversation! I know nothing, I haven't played any of the origin stories! What if there's that obscure bit of dialogue you only get by playing the game for an umpteenth time in a very specific way that sheds entirely new light on this scene? I'm not as smart/observant/articulate/whatever as others!

It took me almost six weeks to realize I can't let my anxious brain win this one. Even if I'm “wrong” (can personal interpretations and impressions really be “wrong”?), this is a testament to how much I've grown to enjoy the game and love the characters and their stories. So, if you've reached the end of this post and even read this postscript – thank you. This is an important step in my fight against the Anxious Brain.

[pathologicalreid]

Could you write a platonic Spencer X reader? Like she’s the new, youngest member on the team, he remembers how it feels like and kinda takes you under his wing.

neophyte | S.R.

next

in which dr. reid gives advice to help you cope with the requirements of your new job

who? spencer reid x fem!platonic!BAU!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: details from 1x6 "L.D.S.K.", mentions of killing an unsub, guns and general cm related violence. post prison reid.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: hi!! thank you! i had such a great time writing this! i love a good platonic reader fic <3. (side note i am currently working on making my way through all of my requests :-))

Your brows were furrowed in the dark, abandoned office that you darted into at the very first opportunity. Try as you might, you couldn’t forget the way your last case ended.

Some agents wore their first takedown like a badge of honor, but you had no interest in looking at this like an accomplishment.

You rubbed at your eyes, he was a killer, he had a knife to a teenager's throat, and yet, you felt bad that you had killed him. Emily had assured you that it was a clean shoot and you were right to kill him, but you didn’t care that it was a clean shoot. You cared that someone was dead, and you were the one who pulled the trigger. Shouldn’t it matter to you that by taking one life, you likely saved several others in the process?

Glancing over your shoulder to see if anyone could see you, you turned sharply into the empty office. It had been left abandoned years ago by Agent Morgan, and now you were grateful for the empty space. If you were going to cry, at least you could do it in peace.

The events kept playing in your head, the UnSub held the knife to the kid’s throat, and you asked him to let the kid go, but he knew he was going to jail anyway. The temptation of another kill was too good for him to turn down. You saw the flex of his wrist as he prepared himself to kill, and you pulled the trigger.

You struck him right between his eyes. You promptly walked the teenager to reunite with his parents before you snuck around the side of the building and hurled before returning to the rest of the team like all was well and good.

“Y/N?” A voice whispered into the office, and you braced yourself for someone to tell you that you shouldn’t be in there, you looked up and saw Reid, he had his token leather satchel over his shoulder like he was ready to leave. “Are you alright?”

Haphazardly, you wiped at the tears on your face and smiled weakly, “Yeah, I’m good.” You lied through your teeth, “Just uh…” you desperately tried to find a reason for being in the empty office, “enjoying the scenery.” You cringed inwardly, a five-year-old wouldn’t believe you, let alone a seasoned profiler.

Like you had done earlier, Spencer looked behind him before entering the office, he set his bag on the floor and slid his back down the wall, so he was sitting next to you on the floor. “So, how are you enjoying the blank walls?”

You wrapped your arms around yourself, “I am enjoying myself immensely, thank you very much.”

“So, what’s wrong?” He asked, nudging your arm gently.

Hesitantly, you turned to face Spencer. Kind, non-judgmental Spencer who had once lent you a book on the jet because you were bored. “I killed him,” you whispered. “And I don’t know what to do about it.”

You watched as realization dawned on him, “Did Emily say it was a clean shoot?” He straightened his legs out in front of him.

Nodding, you went back to staring straight ahead. “Yeah, she said I gave him ample opportunity to cede and that I performed as necessary.” You took a deep breath and fiddled with the hem of your jacket, “but I didn’t… I’ve never…” How could you explain this to Spencer without sounding like a kid?

“You’ve never killed anyone before,” he finished for you. “Even though he was a serial killer and he would’ve killed that teenager, you still killed him.”

You sighed despondently, “Profilers.”

Reid leaned back against the wall. In your peripheral vision, you could see the light from the hallway as it fed into the office. “I had the same problem after I killed someone for the first time,” he admitted to you.

Your head snapped to face him. Quite frankly, you had a hard time believing him, Spencer was a BAU veteran at this point. “You did?” You whispered.

He nodded, “Philip Dowd,” he said, making a face like the name felt foreign to him now. “He would’ve killed me, our old unit chief, and an emergency room full of hostages had I not done it, but I still couldn’t convince myself it was justified.” He shrugged, “I didn’t sleep well for weeks afterward.”

Turning to face him, you tilted your head in curiosity, “How did you figure it out? How did you manage?”

“I had someone who could give me advice,” he told you pointedly. “I put pictures of his victims up in my room, so I had something to remind me why I’m doing this,” he answered. “I won’t lie to you, it’s never going to be something enjoyable about this job. Taking someone’s life is…. Brutal, but saving lives makes it tolerable.”

Silent tears streamed down your face, “I wish he had just put the knife down. It doesn’t feel like justice.”

Spencer nodded understandingly, “Sometimes it doesn’t, but that family that you reunited today? They’ll never forget you.” He reassured you, and you remembered the tears from that mother as she hugged you and thanked you for saving her son's life.

“For the good of the many, right?” You asked bitterly.

He hummed, “If that’s how you have to look at it, yeah, but if you don’t know how you have to look at it to feel normal yet, that’s okay too.” He swept a strand of hair from his face, “The point I’m trying to make is that I had someone to help me navigate all of this, and I think you could use that too.”

Your eyebrows raised, “Like a guru?” You asked, a light smile on your face.

“I was thinking more like a mentor, but sure. I could be your BAU guru,” he said, the grin plain in his voice.

Then the moment left as quickly as it came, you still couldn’t get the way the blood drained from his body out of your mind. You wiped a tear from under your eyes, “I can do this, Reid,” you assured him.

He reached over your head to a tissue box on top of a table, handing you the box, he answered, “I know you can. Emily wouldn’t have handpicked you from the academy if you didn’t have what it takes. You’re just what the BAU needs, and if you decide to stay, you’ll be perfect here.”

Unable to help it, you scoffed, “How do you just know that?”

“I’ve seen a lot of people come and go from the BAU, but no one who reminds me so much of myself. And I’ve been here for long enough that I hope you take those words for what they’re worth,” he answered you, not even bothered by your indignation. He stood first, reaching a hand out to help you to your feet, “You have my phone number, right?”

You furrowed your brows as you stood, “uh, yeah.” Garcia had programmed them herself on your very first day.

Spencer nodded, “Good. If you ever need help processing the job, or anything else, you can call. Or text. I’m usually better with calls. Any time, okay, Y/N?”

You cocked your head at him, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he answered simply as if it was obvious.

And just like that, he grabbed his bag and turned around. Heading into the elevator, he waved as the doors shut and you watched, feeling like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders.

next

[wifelinkmtg]

we're so fucking back

Hiiiiiiii so Tarkir: Dragonstorm comes out real soon and there is... nothing major wrong with it! No racecars, no evil clowns, no suppurating mass of yet another shoehorned IP crossover event, just... Magic. Remember Magic? One of the best games ever made on this wretched earth in spite of everything? This is that!

And sure, I could complain about some things, like how the Abzan and the Sultai have the exact same color scheme for some reason, or all the inconsistencies in the overall time travel plot, like how Zurgo is suddenly a big badass like in the old timeline instead of the whinging bellbonger he was in this one or how the mammoths are suddenly unextinct, or how the application of the "Druid" subtype represents a desire on the part of WotC to appear less racist without wanting to understand anything about how racism operates at a structural level so they're just changing surface-level aesthetic elements at random while periodically looking back at the audience for approval like in that one dril tweet, but frankly I'm past wanting Magic: the Gathering setting and story to be good, you know? I just want it to be good enough.

AND SISTER, IT IS

Riverwheel Sweep (art by Wayne Wu)

At this point I believe my record on women with blindfolds and intense upper-arm muscle definition speaks for itself, but just in case: this is real hot. As for my stance on being wrapped up in a length of red silk, reeled in, and forced to my knees: surely you can guess.

Flamehold Grappler (art by Wayne Wu again, good job Wayne)

I firmly believe that everyone should shave their head at least once in their life, and only partially because I think it's hot when women do this. It also really helps to break the back of the beauty standards cop in your head. "But I have a weird-shaped head! I could never pull that off!" Bitch everyone has a weird-shaped head, or a weird hairline, or one little patch of hair that grows in the wrong way, or something. Get comfortable with your own weird body—you'll be happier.

Anyway while I like the idea of a woman with four additional flaming arms, in practice I think burns are Not Worth It. Probably she doesn't have those all the time, so I suppose she could just be a good-looking girl who can beat me up, which I'm not complaining about, but also consider: if you took a bath with her the water would never get cold.

Meticulous Artisan (art by Anna Pavleeva)

Really really long nails, on the other hand, are worth it. I want to stumble out of the bedroom the following morning covered in cartoon kiss marks and an alarming number of lacerations.

Also—we're all on the spectrum here, yeah?—"meticulous" is one of the hottest things a dom can be. Slow, patient, curious about stimulus and response. "What happens if I touch you here? Interesting. What happens if I hurt you there? Very interesting."

Constrictor Sage (art by Nereida)

One of the other hottest things a dom can be is a giant snake lady. Have you ever held a snake, realized it's just smooth and pleasantly-textured skin over nothing but muscle? Holding a snake is a kind of tactile and sensory bliss—we are all on the spectrum here?—which exceeds any number of smooth rocks or plunging your hand into a bowl full of flat glass beads. I've never met a rope that could compare to the coiling allure of snondage.

And while we're on the subject: look how her victim is arching her back. Look at the spectral snake beside her head flicking its tongue out across her jaw. There is something very lesbian going on here, and I hope they both enjoy themselves.

Felothar, Dawn of the Abzan (art by Victor Adame Minguez)

I'm really enjoying her th—hang on, what the fuck is she wearing? The weird burning face breastplate? Wait all the Abzan are wearing this, this Arnim Zola bullshit? Can she team up with four more for the full Voltron? Is this intended to tease an upcoming Power Rangers secret lair?

WAND! MAKE MY MONSTER [Become Immense]

Okay shut up about that it's Eshki time.

Eshki Dragonclaw (art by Tran Nguyen)

I am immediately in love with this character and this piece. I love the bright colors and the patterns on her coat, the beads in her hair. I adore how stylized, how just one step shy of cartoony it is. I really enjoy her dog, who is evoking for me the demons and monsters of traditional east Asian art. And the girl... I want to see her on runways. I want to see her in magazine shoots talking about her nascent music career. God help me, I want to be her songwriter in that music career, and you know, I would try to keep her grounded and safe against the pressure and the predation of that but she's getting actually famous now—look at her, of course she is—and working harder and harder and the fans and the producers keep wanting more more MORE and she can't stop, she can't even slow down and when I tell her I can't keep watching her do this to herself she says who cares, there's a hundred better songwriters drooling for the chance to work with me but I see her face in the instant before she composes herself to say that and it breaks my heart but I leave anyway. And when they start putting her in movies I watch them, I watch when they cast her opposite whatever fifty-year-old man they have doing Bond this decade, watch her go to bed with him, watch her face-up floating dead in the pool when the bad guy takes his revenge, and I follow along when the press inevitably turns on her like botflies. The court case against the powerful industry figure she loses, the tabloids talking about her drug use, the easy punchlines she makes for nepo comedians. And then one day she's gone—dead or vanished, no one can say for sure—and that is all.

Until one day, many years later, there's a woman in the park sitting with her back to a tree, not singing but playing guitar, dark-haired, face different from how everyone remembers it, and she's playing the last song I ever wrote for her, the one she never recorded, never performed. And I stand there across the way, unable to move, and she plays until another woman comes to get her and she slings the guitar on her back and they go off hand in hand. And wouldn't that be enough? In all this wide world, wouldn't that be enough?

NO. IT'S A PEDESTRIAN, TOOTHLESS LITTLE FANTASY. YOU HAVE PEOPLE THESE DAYS WHO LOVE YOU BACK IN UNCOMPLICATED WAYS. HAVEN'T YOU OUTGROWN THIS

Mostly, I think. Every once in a while it's fun to indulge, tho—and for a pedestrian, toothless fantasy, isn't it awfully pretty?

CAN YOU PLEASE JUST EAT PEOPLE OUT IN YOUR FANTASIES LIKE A NORMAL PERSON

Well, maybe next time. Whenever Wizards deigns to bestow upon us another actual Magic set. Or whenever I nail down what the next seminal, life-changing essay is supposed to be about. See y'all then.

[my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction]

L Lawliet x Reader pt. 16: the Billionaire and the Prostitute

Guys, I've gotta stop posting early before you get used to it XD I've just been so excited to release recent chapters! Anyway, enjoy the midweek mini!

you confused him. You confused him immensely.

Sometimes, you were vicious. Like the other night, when you called. Sometimes, you were cordial, friendly even, like when he came over.

Perhaps it was an issue of inhibition. The more you lacked, the more honest you were. It made sense, it was linear.

But then...you told him how much you disliked him after he told you he loved you. So perhaps not.

Whatever it was, it confused you too, because you called him again in the evening.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I saw I called you the other day...um, do you remember what I said?"

"...you said you were drinking wine."

"I was, yeah, uh...sorry. about that."

"It's not a problem."

"Is that all I said?"

"It was a short call."

"Yeah...okay, well, bye."

He didn't like lying to you. So he didn't.

He set the phone down, and continues his work. All he wanted now was your fingers in his hair. Your laughter in his ear. Like when he came over. You were sweet, you giggled and smiled at him. He felt he was making good progress with you, that maybe, you would be friends with him again. He could live with that. You, friendly; him, enamored.

Speaking of coming over, it seems you don't do very much investigating around your house. He was worried you might find those wiretaps and scold him for his actions, but the one under the counter, by far the most obvious, was exactly as it was placed.

Don't get it wrong, it was only a precaution, only activated and recording for extremely loud noises or unauthorized entry. Well, the cameras were always working, but that was only to record proper evidence in the event of a break-in or attack. He never looked at them. It was harmless. Security.

His phone dinged once more. Busy today.

transaction complete. ¥50000 moved to account #002546.

he flipped it open with two fingers, and read the message across the screen.

Ah, the landlord.

Nothing to worry about, then.

[fryktheciller]

tiny little charlie x femreader i wrote during greek class hope you enjoy!!

warnings: implied nudity, but it's not sexual

there's something that's deliciously hot, no, warm, in sunday mornings. charlie's all over you, in the double bed that feels immense compared to the tiny welton ones. you always manage to go on dates, with the excuse of family dinners.

there's only a vague memory of last night's events in your head: you had dinner, then at the bar, and from there everything's a muddle of kisses and heavy breaths and quiet moans.

the almost spring-like light enters the room lazily, while the whiny and hysterical wind screams outside, keeping your mind in the winter mood. you shiver a little, and snuggle closer to him, sliding your knee between his legs and clutching his head against your neck; his breaths are slow, steady, and kinda snory, with the stuffy nose you'd given him last night. it was all the women's fashion industry's fault, really; and his leather jacket was so warm you could fall asleep in it. the skin on skin contact is smooth, warm but you'd still like another wool blanket, along with the sticky warmth of the fresh flannel sheets that are enveloping–and drowning– you in, and charlie's arms wrapped all tight around your waist. how will you ever get up? your stomach rumbles, god, how good it would be to have warm pb&j right now, and still you don't move a muscle to satisfy your craving. charlie lets out a soft, miserable cough, and stirs quietly; he takes a deep breath (as deep as his stuffy nose can take) and smiles lazily. he kisses your mouth tenderly, with the same laziness and warmth he's radiating right now. you stare at him in sleepy awe as he blows his nose so violently it got you wondering how he's still got some mucosa left in his nose.

–how you feelin' baby?– you whisper quietly, welcoming him in your arms as he comes back.

–terrible,– he mumbles, his voice sulky and still laced with laughter.

–aw, my poor baby...– and you clutch him closer to your chest out of tenderness.

he doesn't complain, his hands find your back, holding you like a porcelain doll.

–'m sorry...your jacket was so warm and lovely...

–you want it? i can give it to you.

–it wouldn't be the same.

–thief.

you nod, amused, and pull him a little closer.

–think i'll infect you?

–would be more worried if you didn't.

and you laugh (but he's really coughing). you close your eyes, bothered by the light now sonorous and proud; and you end up falling back asleep. in, out, in, out, all in the most subtle and idilliac way possible. maybe you should get up, but how would you? you can't move a centimeter, his arms so tightly wrapped around you it makes you wonder if he's really asleep.

–you sleeping?– he whispers from your neck.

–yeah,– you laugh quietly, with your eyes stubbornly closed.

he kisses you anyway, with the same warmth and laziness as before, even biting your lip as he pulls away.

–son of a bitch,– you laugh, pulling away a little.

–they're always so soft.

–they're always so soft,– you mock him with petulance.

he grabs your wrist, and brings you back like you were before. you laugh, and he's visibly amused.

–infect me, baby,– you whisper, your lips grazing his own

–gladly.– and he kisses you, sensually, despite the endless breathing breaks he needs to take.

[quinloki]

New event 👀💜

Can I ask for Bondage, Breeding and Dacryphilia with Sakazuki, X Drake and Sir Crocodile please? 🥰❤️‍🔥

Thank you in advance ✨

\o/ New Event!

XD Alright, lets get into this by Blorbo, shall we? (I'm going to try to have some consistency this time, and maybe stick to Alphabetically by Blorbo throughout, instead of shaking it up like last time)

Sakazuki/Akainu:

Bondage - Yes - He's not relinquishing control enough to be tied up (though I guess you would need special rope for that anyway), but he doesn't mind tying someone else up. There's not much about that act itself that gets him going, but if his partner is getting into it he'll grow fonder and fonder of it.

Might even learn a few fancy knots and pick up some books on shibari.

Breeding - FUCK Yes - It is his solemn duty as an upstanding member of the marines to ensure the future generations can suffer continue on for the sake of the World Government.

Okay, that's the line he'll spout to maintain his reputation, but this man loves to breed you. If he wasn't so married to his job it would probably rate even higher, but he'll pump you full over and over until you can possibly hold anymore in.

Dacryphilia - Oh god you don’t even know - He might dismiss tears outside the bedroom as either an annoyance, or if he truly cares he probably doesn't like cause of whatever has you crying, but in the bedroom he delights in it. He already knows he's too attentive to have hurt you, so it's certainly because of overstimulation.

Cry for him to stop, sob for him to continue, look up at him with teary eyes, face flushed from need or embarrassment or desire and give him a shy little whine and he'll do as he pleases. It'll please you too, he's sure.

Sir Crocodile:

Bondage - FUCK yes - There's at least a little bit of pragmatism in this particular enjoyment, and that's because it's difficult to hold someone in more creative positions when you've got one hand and a hook.

Less difficult if you don't mind impaling them with the hook, but Crocodile means to keep you alive and wriggling beneath him for many many years. Whether you enjoy the rope or not doesn't really matter, though he'll use less, or more, depending on your desires. He doesn't mind having it be completely pragmatic, but he can find ample enjoyment in spending an afternoon suspending you in different positions.

Breeding - Oh god you don’t even know - I don't even know that he wants children. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. Maybe what really gets him is that you smell like him when he fills you up. Maybe he really loves the way you cum right as he fills you up, like your body can't help but revel in the act.

Whatever the cause behind it, he enjoys the act immensely. You'll be hard pressed (heh) to get him to admit any kind of emotional pleasure concerning it, but his tip's already leaking when he pushes into you.

Dacryphilia - Oh god you don’t even know - He'll say it's because he doesn't care how you feel when he takes you, but he's fully aware of the emotions behind your tears. Whether you're sobbing from fear, or pain or pleasure or overstimulation doesn't matter - what matters is that he's the cause.

If it's from pain, and he's giving it to you, then you earned it. Same with pleasure and anything else. Those tears are because of him and he's commanded them into existence. He'll hold your face in place and kiss the sweet water away, telling you hold on a little longer, he's not yet had his fill.

If you're crying tears because of someone else, they'll never make you cry again. Never finding that body either...

X Drake:

Bondage - Yes - Ah, sweet Drake. He's willing to try a great many things, especially with you. He's pretty good at knots and he'll tie you up with care and consideration. He's also not against being tied up, willing adjusting his position so it's easier for you to handle the ropes. He'll tell you, you can be rough with him, if anything gets too tight and he needs to escape fast he'll just transform.

If you want the ropes to leave their mark, you'll have to make sure he knows at the start. He won't tie you so loose you could escape without meaning too, but he won't let those ropes bite your skin unless you tell him you want it.

Breeding - Oh god you don’t even know - I feel like the first time you ask Drake to breed you he almost changes forms on the spot. His whole body throbs with the desire, and it's a desperate battle for him to maintain control enough to give you a red-faced nod that yes, yes he would like to do just that.

But maybe give him a minute, because he doesn't want to accidentally hurt you. He's scrambling to be a gentleman in this case, and if you dare to tell him he can be rough, you might get the beast before you get the man.

>.> Not that that's necessarily a bad thing...

Dacryphilia - I dunno - If you can't help the tears when you get overwhelmed, or you just happen to be the type to cry a little because of the rush of an orgasm, he'll adjust, but he can't help it. Seeing you cry is not something he enjoys.

The context helps, so you're not going to kill his boner when you start sobbing, but at best he's going to get to "sure", reminding himself that it's a sign he's doing you right. You'll know when he's come to at least accept that you can't help but sob because of the pleasure, when he leans over and tenderly licks a tear from your cheek before growling about how he's so close to filling you up.

How May I Kink Your Head Canon?

[kikyoupdates]

Tears of a Villainess ⭑˚🗡️⭑ 𝑎 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟

yandere!ocs x reader

yandere, reverse harem, isekai, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere

Reincarnation isn't as great as it sounds, especially when you've been reborn as none other than the villainess. Fated to die if you stand in the heroine's way, you immediately resolve to distance yourself from the plot. As long as you have nothing to do with any of the relevant characters, surely, you'll be able to avoid an untimely death. But in a horrible turn of events, the heroine ends up wanting to get close to you. Are you really doomed to meet the villainess' tragic end? Or is there an even more sinister fate that awaits you?

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After Annabel leaves, your father excitedly bounds over, and it’s clear that he seems to think the lesson went well.

“So?” he hums. “Did the two of you get along? She came highly recommended. Many refer to her as a prodigy. In that sense, you have a lot in common. Both bright young ladies with a promising future ahead of them.” 

Dude. I may be smarter than average, but please stop hyping me up so much. I’m not gonna be the next Sir Isaac Newton. 

You awkwardly scratch your cheek. “Yes, Annabel’s a very good tutor. I can see why she has such glowing reviews. I wasn’t at all dissatisfied with her teaching style, it’s just that…” 

“Hm? What is it?” 

Your father leans in closer, eyes wide and attentive, still with a smile spread across his lips. Honestly, he kind of gives off Golden Retriever vibes, and you hate to disappoint him when he’s so clearly excited about all this… but you don’t exactly have a choice. 

Annabel hates your guts. This is probably torture for her, and it’d be unfair to keep doing this.

“I think she’s extremely smart, and talented, but I personally don’t think she’s a good fit for me,” you admit. “Unless I was mistaken, she didn’t seem entirely comfortable being here. I did my best to be welcoming towards her, but I fear my infamous reputation had long since reached her ears. I’m worried she’s forcing herself to follow through with this because you personally requested her, even though she doesn’t actually want to tutor me.” 

“Why wouldn’t she be comfortable around you?” your father asks, and his smile drops for the first time. “You’re so charming and vibrant. And since you’re both involved in scholarly pursuits, your like-mindedness should bring you closer. Not to mention that you’re of similar age. Don’t you think you’re reading into it too much, my dear? I think you’re being overly critical of yourself. Who wouldn’t enjoy the company of a fine young woman such as yourself?” 

Uh, probably someone who’s been bullied and harassed by this supposedly ‘fine young woman’. By the sounds of it, quite badly. 

Also, you’re not really sure why he’s surprised that people don’t like you. Hasn’t he heard some of the rumors circulating in regards to his daughter? Then again, both your mother and father spoil you rotten, so in their eyes, you can do no wrong. You’ve been really enjoying having such loving and easygoing parents, but they’re partly to blame for the villainess turning out the way she did. Clearly, she wasn’t ever reprimanded for her behavior, nor did she learn the meaning of the word no. 

Anyways. That’s neither here nor there. The villainess is gone, and you’ve taken her place. Needless to say, you have no intention of tormenting poor Annabel any further. She doesn’t need to be bound to you in service when it so clearly brings her immense pain. 

“It’s alright,” you reassure. “Not everyone gets along. I won’t take it personally. She must have heard some things that made her wary of me, and that’s fine. I’m trying to change my ways, but I can’t expect everyone to suddenly like me. I’m sure I can find another qualified tutor. They may not be as young and prodigal as she is, but that’s fine. I’ll cooperate and do my best to learn, no matter who it is.” 

“But I just don’t understand. What could have possibly displeased her, especially after you gave her such a cordial welcome? Why, it all sounds rather ungrateful on her part. She’s under our employ. What gives her the right to act out and treat you poorly?” 

Your father is angry now. When it comes to you, you’ve learned that he’s far too soft to discipline you properly. The worst punishment you got after breaking off an engagement one-sidedly was having to do some math problems—which he’s since been celebrating you for nonstop. 

No, your father likely won’t ever get angry with you. Neither will your mother, for that matter. They’re far too enamored with you. You’re their precious only child, their sparkling star amidst the night sky, or whatever other artsy-fartsy expression they’ll use to describe you. In any case, you mean the world to them, and they handle you like glass. 

But they’re not above getting angry at other people. And based on how fast your father’s expression is darkening, you can tell that he doesn’t take too kindly to this supposed affront. 

For the first time, the words this sweet, seemingly harmless man utters are enough to make you shiver. 

“If that woman dared to disrespect you in your own home, to try and hold you responsible for her foolish, prejudiced beliefs, then I think I’d like to have a word with her family. And I’ll make it clear to them that she shouldn’t dare offer her services as a tutor ever again.” 

You gulp. Oh, shit. Daddy’s actually serious this time. 

If you end up being the reason Annabel loses her job, it goes without saying that she’ll just hate you even more. Which is pretty counterproductive. Not to mention that you’d feel downright awful, because it sounds like the villainess has already ruined her life more than enough. 

In that case… fine. Perhaps you’ll just have to consider another approach. If firing her won’t end well, then the best you can do is try to figure out what the villainess did to her and mend your relationship. After all, you set out to restore your reputation, and that’s exactly what you’ll do. Even Annabel, who clearly despises the villainess, can’t possibly resist your charms. Everyone loves a good character redemption arc, right?

Well, in theory. 

“O-On second thought, you’re right, father. I suppose I was being overly critical of myself. I may very well have just imagined the whole thing. She never outright stated she didn’t like me, after all. Like you said, I was perhaps reading into things too much. Haha.” 

You chuckle awkwardly, and much to your relief, it only takes a few seconds for your father’s smile to return. 

“Don’t worry, my sweet.” He ruffles your hair affectionately. “You’re adored by all. Didn’t you see how eager Rowan was to marry you? And he’d only just met you for the first time. Everyone who basks in your presence is all the better for it. So, don’t ever put yourself down. You’re as perfect as can be.” 

Man. Unconditional love really is something, huh? 

“I’m glad to hear that your lesson went well, and that you’re satisfied with your tutor’s teaching abilities. I can hardly wait to see how much more that beautiful mind of yours will develop,” he beams. 

As always, he walks off with a spring in his step, looking as if he’s about to turn into a Disney princess and start singing at any given moment. 

Well, it’s good to know that he’s happy, at least. And it’s not like you have a problem with Annabel, but you hate knowing that she’s being forced into something that makes her feel like shit. 

Hopefully those feelings won’t persist for long. Hopefully—with the power of god, anime, and rizz on your side—you’ll be best pals in no time flat. 

…but something tells you it won’t be that easy. 

“I heard your first tutoring session went splendidly, so to celebrate, I reserved a table at one of the most exclusive restaurants in town. They’re usually all booked up, but I pulled a few strings here and there.” 

That was what your mother proudly announced before whisking you out of the manor for a candlelit dinner. Apparently your father is tied up with business and he couldn’t spare the time tonight—for which he apologized profusely, tears brimming his eyes—but your mother waved him off and insisted it was fine. She said it would just have to be a ‘girl’s night’ for the two of you. 

Anyways, you’re definitely not complaining. All of the meals you eat at home are hand-made by talented cooks, but she’s taking you out someplace where there’s supposedly even better food? Talk about hitting the jackpot.

It took a while to get ready, though. You’re still not good at all this fancy high society stuff. Half the time you unwittingly wear dresses that are far too casual for entertaining guests and the like. One time you wandered through the halls in your nightgown and your mother nearly had a goddamn heart attack. 

But with Fiona’s help, you changed into something suitable for a classy evening at a luxurious restaurant, and presently, you’re stepping down from the carriage—looking hot as hell, might you add. 

“I’m stunning,” you state, staring at your reflection from outside the carriage window. “I always knew I was, but… damn. It’s no wonder Rowan wants to wife me up.” 

It’s not technically narcissism, since this isn’t your real body to begin with. Or at least, that’s how you try to justify shamelessly checking yourself out. 

“Yes, yes, dear, you’re as breathtaking as always,” your mother agrees, impatiently tapping you on the shoulder. “But let’s hurry along. We have a reservation. We wouldn’t want to be late.” 

“Okie-dokie.” 

The carriage didn’t stop too far from the restaurant, but it’s a bit of a pain to tackle the cobblestone path with the stupidly high heels you’re wearing. They’re not practical at all. If it were up to you, you’d be in sneakers right now. 

Nevertheless, you successfully make the trek, and a servant is posted by the door, ready to open it with a charming smile. 

“Welcome, ladies,” he greets pleasantly. “Thank you so much for joining us tonight. You have a reservation, I presume?” 

“Yes, of course,” your mother nods. “For Countess [Last Name]. Two guests. Myself and my lovely daughter.” 

“Excellent. We’re honored to have such esteemed guests dining with us. We’ll do everything in our power to answer each and every one of your requests. We hope to provide you with a lasting, memorable experience.”

He holds the door open as he steps aside. His smile hasn’t even wavered once. Plus, his ass-kissing is on point. Truly a professional. 

“I bet he says that to all the guests,” you whisper to your mother as you step inside. 

She nudges you in the ribs. “Hush, now. This restaurant is highly exclusive. I was fortunate enough to find a last-minute reservation. Your father’s reputation truly precedes him. Not everyone gets the chance to eat here.” 

You can kind of understand why, because holy hell is this place decked-out. Your manor was already luxurious enough. Plus, the one time you went to a party and ran into Flynn, that place was pretty damn extravagant, too. You thought you’d just about seen everything there is to see in terms of wealth and grandeur, but apparently, there’s always bigger fish in the sea. 

You soon discover that the reason this restaurant is so exquisitely ornate is because it’s owned by the most powerful duke in the entire kingdom. The king’s famed right-hand man and most devoted retainer. The duke is getting up there in age, but he refuses to relinquish his title to any of his children or grandchildren, not until he officially passes. He was in the previous king’s service too, so his seniority and reputation can’t be understated. 

No wonder this restaurant is so exclusive. It’s just shy of belonging to the king himself. 

“Um, is it really okay for us to be here?” you ask, fidgeting nervously as you sit down. “It sounds like it’s a huge deal. Shouldn’t we have saved this outing for a more, I don’t know, special occasion?” 

Your mother snaps open her folding hand fan. “Nonsense. You must already know that your father is a very impressive man. He’s made quite the name for himself, in just a short span of time. Our household wasn’t especially famous historically, but thanks to his many accomplishments, we are gaining steadfast. And I simply couldn’t let this momentous occasion go to waste. There was an opening, so naturally, I jumped on it.” 

“Uh-huh…” 

With the way she describes securing a reservation at a restaurant, you would think she just led an army to victory or something. Seriously, it’s not that deep. 

But you suppose you should be grateful, because it’s true that not everyone gets to dine here. You may as well profit from this, erm, momentous occasion and stuff yourself silly with all the finest meals this kingdom has to offer.

Oh, yeah. Bring on the food, baby. 

You wish you could say you exerted some self-restraint. You wish you could say you acted the part of a picture-perfect lady, equipped with all the poise, grace, and etiquette that would be expected of someone in your position. 

But realistically, what follows is almost too grotesque to put into words.

Everything is fine at first. You take the first few bites of your meal, and by god, it tastes absolutely sublime. You swear your taste buds have never been happier. It’s like tasting a slice of heaven. It’s so delicious that you can hardly believe this is real life.

The more you eat, the more you seem to lose yourself in the moment. Your mother occasionally chimes in, reminding you to pace yourself. She worries that you’re not savoring the food enough, but you are savoring it. You can’t seem to stop savoring it. And so, you order more. Then more. More, and more, and more, and more. 

Simultaneously, you’re treating yourself to the lovely wine they keep serving. You don’t even have to ask for more of that. By the time your glass is empty, someone comes along to fill it up again, and it ends up being filled quite a few times that night. 

Perhaps too many times, because the nobles seated at others tables are starting to whisper amongst themselves. They stare at you with unmatched revulsion, and you realize, with a pang of shame, that you’ve been gorging yourself without a care in the world. You’ve been acting like you’re in the comfort of your own home, protected by those familiar walls, when the reality is that everything you do or say in public is being scrutinized by those watching. 

The realization comes crashing down on you, and suddenly, the beautiful illusion is broken. You’re painfully aware that everyone is judging you. 

And then your stomach gives up.

Everything after that point is a blur. You briefly hear your mother calling out to you, with a look of sheer horror on her face, but her voice soon fades into the background on account of you literally booking it out the door. 

The servant posted at the front cries out in a panic, similar to the way your mother reacted, but it’s far too late to turn back now. Your body is doing things, whether you like it or not. 

“Pardon me,” the servant frets, “are you quite alright? Shall I fetch you some water, or a hot towel, or perhaps—” 

Cue you puking your guts out, and as it so happens, right onto one of the nice rose bushes decorating the entrance.

“Oh, dear heavens!”

He doesn’t seem to know how to handle such a gruesome sight and proceeds to rush into the restaurant, probably to get help, or maybe to have a quick mental breakdown. Could be either one.

You fall to your knees and groan. Well, that was more than enough humiliation for one night. You’re definitely ready to go home now, and for some reason, you get the feeling that you won’t be allowed to come back.

The cold air helps, though. So does the peace and quiet. That atmosphere inside was way too stifling, to be honest. It’s different than being back at the manor, where you’re not being judged for your every action. You’re in the comfort of family and friends (well, you consider the servants to be your friends, at least), and people aren’t glaring at you left and right. You hate to admit it, but being the target of everyone’s hatred is harder than you thought it’d be. Especially since you’re not to blame for any of the villainess’ misdeeds. 

Although you are to blame for tonight’s incident. Yeah. This one is most certainly your fault. 

You take a few moments to try and soothe your poor stomach, which seems to be terribly angry with you right now. Not that you can really blame it. Your gluttony got the best of you, admittedly. This time, you might actually have to be bedridden. Like, for realsies.  

You thought that having to run out of the restaurant and puke in the rose bushes would be the unfortunate highlight of tonight’s outing, but apparently, you haven’t suffered enough embarrassment yet. 

“My lady? Is everything okay?”

A familiar voice. Oh, no. That means it’s someone you know. That means it’s someone you know—and unless you’re mistaken, it’s not someone you planned on running into ever again. 

Carmine approaches you with a frown. Goddammit. Of all the people to stumble across you in such a sorry state. This guy always seems to show up when you’ve just made a damn fool of yourself.

You lift your head and barely stifle another groan. “U-Ugh. Yes, I’m fine. I’m perfectly… fine. Don’t worry about me. I’m sure you must be busy with all sorts of knight… stuff. Don’t let me take up your time.” 

You try to wave him off, but surprise surprise, he doesn’t leave. 

Perfect. Just what you wanted. 

“I remember you,” Carmine blinks. “We ran into each other once before. When you tried to apprehend that thief all by yourself. Goodness. Are you ill? You seem to have—”

“—puked,” you finish for him, noting the way his brow creases. “Yeah, I puked. The food in there didn’t exactly agree with my stomach. Um. Probably because I ate way too much of it. Like, a concerning amount.” 

“Well, uh… that isn’t good,” he adds, rather unhelpfully, in your opinion. 

“No. No, it isn’t.” 

You sigh and hug your arms around your knees. The ground feels nice and cool. It’s helping abate your nausea, even if only a little. 

“My lady, you shouldn’t sit there,” Carmine insists. He offers you his hand—which seems to be a recurring theme between the two of you. “Please. Stand up for the time being. I know you aren’t feeling well, but I fear you’ll catch a cold.” 

“If I stand up, I’ll puke again,” you state matter-of-factly.

“Pardon my rudeness, but I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Shall I prove you wrong?” 

“I’d rather you didn’t, but all the same, please try to stand up.” 

After a brief pause, you begrudgingly take Carmine’s hand, and he pulls you to your feet. You sway unsteadily for a few seconds, but he keeps an arm firmly locked around your waist to hold you in place. The vertigo seems to settle quickly enough, and much to your relief, you don’t puke again. 

Carmine offers a small smile. “There. Isn’t that better? A pretty lady like you shouldn’t be sitting on the ground like that. It’s beneath you.” 

“Technically, the ground is beneath everyone,” you point out.

He blinks, clearly pondering your words. It was a pretty crappy joke, to be honest. Definitely not your best work.

And yet, Carmine still laughs. 

“I-Is that so?” he chuckles. You hate to admit it, but he has a nice laugh. It’s low, and it rumbles a bit, resonating in the pit of his stomach. But it sounds nice. It’s comforting, somehow. Pleasant. 

It’s a far cry from the emotionless demeanor he showed when executing the villainess.

This side of him is definitely better. He’s pretty stoic most of the time, but he would let his guard down around the heroine like this as well. I guess it’s good to know that he doesn’t dislike me, at least. 

You take a deep breath. You’re starting to feel better now that you purged all that excess food from your stomach. It’ll take a while to get back to your full strength, but at least you’re not puking on any more bushes. 

For now, anyway.

“I’m going to drink so much water when I get home,” you sigh tiredly. “Probably enough to make me puke all over again.” 

“Well, it’s good to have a plan, I suppose.” Carmine hastily clears his throat, in an attempt to keep the amusement out of his voice. “Please forgive me. Our meeting last time was so brief, and I was occupied with arresting a criminal, that I never stopped to properly introduce myself. My name is Carmine Mortis. It’s a pleasure to properly meet you, my lady. Apologizes, once again. I hope you aren’t too offended by my lack of manners.” 

Of course, you’ve known who he is from the very start, so you feign ignorance and smile while nodding your head. 

“I’m [Name]. Daughter of Count and Countess [Last Name]. It’s a pleasure to meet you too. And don’t worry. You can probably tell, but I’m not too fussy about manners and the like.” 

“Now, what could have possibly given me that impression?” 

You point towards the rose bushes. “That. The yucky stuff that came out of my tummy. I’m willing to bet other ladies would have sooner died than puked in public.” 

“It’s a natural reaction,” Carmine reassures. “When something disagrees with our stomachs, it just happens. You shouldn’t be ashamed. Are you starting to feel a bit better now, at least?” 

“Yeah,” you admit. “A lot better.”

Before Carmine can say anything else, the door swings open, and out rushes your frantic mother, along with a handful of servants.

“[Name]!” she exclaims, grabbing hold of your shoulders firmly. “Are you alright, my dear? Goodness! You gave me such a fright, taking off like that!” 

“Don’t worry. I puked, so I feel way better now.” 

The servant from earlier points a shaky finger towards the rose bushes you vandalized, and beside him, his colleagues outwardly gasp. Fair enough, it is pretty disgusting. Still. They could try to reel in their shock a bit.

Your mother steps back to frown. “O-Oh, my. Well… there’s no changing what’s already done. You must have been feeling very sick. I worry for your body lately. You seem to be falling ill far too often.” 

You wouldn’t exactly call eating a grotesque amount falling ill, but whatever. At least she’s not mad. Probably quite embarrassed, based on her expression, but not mad. 

“Here,” one of the servants says, passing you a cold glass of water. “Drink this, if you’d like.” 

Another servant hands you a hot towel at the same time, and fortunately, you don’t have chunks of puke all over your face or anything, but you wipe your lips off all the same. The cold, refreshing water hitting the back of your throat helps. You no longer feel like death, in any case. It’s a start. 

The servants then politely ask you all to step aside while they deal with the… mess you left on the rose bushes. You can hear some of them struggling to keep from gagging aloud as they clean the area. Sorry, bros. 

“I don’t think we’ll be invited back,” you remark. 

“No,” your mother sighs, “I don’t think so either. Not that they extend invitations in the first place. But it’ll probably take a miracle to book another reservation here.” 

“I’m sorry, mommy.” 

“It’s alright, my darling. I did warn you to pace yourself, but… I’m just glad you’re not too sick. That’s what’s most important.” 

She smiles lovingly and ruffles your hair, just as your father so often does. It really is incredible to have such supportive parents. Your real parents, back in your old world, could be quite strict at times, but they were good people at their core. You know they loved you to the moon and back. It’ll never quite be the same, but it’s nice to feel that familial warmth again. You’ve been missing it. 

Your mother then turns towards Carmine and tilts her head inquisitively. “Pardon me, young knight. Did you have business here?” 

“Oh, he was just worried about me because he saw I wasn’t feeling well, so he came over to check in. He kept me company while you were sorting things out inside,” you say. 

“It was my pleasure,” Carmine bows. “I’m relieved to hear that Lady [Name] is starting to feel better. I wish I could say I was able to help, but she’s a strong, resilient young woman. She regained her spirits all on her own.” 

The ass-kissing never stops, apparently. Well, it’s his job to protect people, you suppose. He must be used to this sort of thing. You feel kind of weird being praised after puking your guts out, though. 

“Thank you for watching over her,” your mother smiles. “I’m very grateful. I should’ve settled the bill faster. I tried to smooth things over, but now that I think of it, I should have chased after [Name] right away. Something could have happened to her if you hadn’t shown up. Some criminal could have attacked her.” 

“That’s why I’m here, my lady. To patrol the area and ensure everyone’s safety. I’ve been doing the rounds so that no unsavory characters turn up.” 

In a rich area like this, constantly frequented by nobles, it’s no surprise they have knights posted nearby. But your mother’s right. You could have run into some drunk, reckless asshole so late at night. You’re lucky it was Carmine who found you.

“Thanks for staying with me, Carmine,” you smile. “Sorry. It was probably a little gross. This may be a lot to ask, but could you try wiping tonight’s memory from your mind? I’d really appreciate it.” 

“I wouldn’t think such crude things. I’m sorry that you weren’t feeling well, but I got to enjoy a lovely evening chat. I find myself feeling quite fortunate that our paths crossed again.” 

“Oh?” your mother blinks. “Do you two already know each other?” 

Balls. It probably wouldn’t be good for your poor mother’s heart if she finds out you were nearly stabbed by a thief thanks to your own recklessness. Both of your parents are so damn protective, it’d be a miracle if they ever let you leave the house ever again. 

You desperately try to signal Carmine with your eyes, but it turns out that you don’t actually need to, because he knows better than to run his mouth. 

“I was patrolling through town one day, nothing out of the ordinary,” he says. “Lady [Name] was out with one of her maids, I believe, and she dropped something she was carrying, so I picked it up and handed it to her. We only met very briefly, but I recognized her straight away. She certainly leaves a lasting impression.” 

“That she does,” your mother proudly beams. “She’s the center of attention, wherever she goes.” 

Usually not in a good way, though.

“In any case, thank you again for helping, Sir… Carmine, was it?” 

“Yes, my lady,” he nods. “And I said, it was no trouble at all. I enjoyed speaking to Lady [Name]. It was a nice change of pace from my usual tasks.” 

You can finally go home now, and even though you’re feeling a lot better, you’d rather not hang back at the scene of your crime any longer than necessary. You wonder if more rumors will start, given that you ran out of the restaurant looking green in the face. This will surely be a hot piece of gossip among the nobility. And also the restaurant staff. 

Your mother loops her arm around yours to help steady you while you walk, and Carmine accompanies the both of you to hail a carriage. He holds your hand and helps you up the stairs. It’s not just the amount of food you ate, but all the drinks you had too. The alcohol’s starting to hit you pretty hard. You seriously need to lie down when you get home. 

You start swinging your legs out, giggling stupidly. “Whoo! I feel so much better now. I’m nice and floaty. Like I’m on a cloud. Or the back of a Samoyed.” 

“Oh, darling, you’re drunk,” your mother sighs, shaking her head disappointedly. “Well, at least we’ll be home soon. Just hold out a bit longer, and then I’ll have the servants draw you a nice, soothing bath.” 

Carmine arches a brow. “Forgive my ignorance, but what is a Samoyed?” 

“I’m not sure, to be honest. Sometimes she just likes to say things.” 

“Farewell, Carmine!” you salute, getting hotter and dizzier by the second. “Thank you again for keeping me company. And for not judging me for puking. And for calling me pretty. I especially liked that part.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” he chuckles. 

Your mother sighs again. “Excuse her. She’s a bit tipsy, as you can see. It’s been a long evening. She just needs to rest. Have a good night, Sir Carmine. I assure you your kindness won’t be forgotten.” 

Carmine bows his head once more before shutting the carriage door and signaling for the carriage driver to take off. You excitedly wave him off through the window, but hardly five seconds later, you're seized by an overwhelming fatigue, and your head slumps against your seat. 

Soon enough, you're out like a light.

Carmine watches the carriage leave, and all the while, he can't seem to keep a smile off his face. 

You're a strange one, admittedly. He's only had two encounters with you so far, but both of them will probably play on his mind for some time to come. 

He wonders, with amusement, what the third encounter will be like. 

More chapters are available on Quotev!

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🗡️ main masterlist! ♡ character appearances

[centipede-gutzz]

♾️ SATORU GOJO PLATONIC HEADCANONS

A/N: need to be friends with someone like gojo in my life. apologies if i wrote him wrong in any way, he has so many layers so i did my best to give him justice.

WARNINGS: canon character death (geto), l-bombs (in a platonic way), not really a warning but satosugu is also mentioned a few times

TYPE: headcanons, gn reader, platonic, fluff/angst

It's a hot day, and Nanami wants nothing but a cold drink.

Haibara asked to get something for him as well, so he HAS to be here anyway (dismissing the small smile he gave him as he walked off to the vending machine).

He steps in front of the machine, scanning his options between the canned liquid goods. Choosing a refreshing water to combat his thirst and training fatigue, he reaches in his pocket for the money. Instead of money, his hand grabs a piece of paper.

Nanami makes a noise of confusion as he takes out the paper from his pocket, staring at the scribbled letters that read "To: Nanami <3" on the front. He unfolds it, thinking it must be something that he forgot to throw out.

He's met with a rather...crude drawing and a tiny "penis" hastily scribbled beneath it, clearly explaining what the hell was on the paper. Before he could even process what he was looking at, he hears giggling from down the hall. You and Gojo are peeking from the corner, watching everything unfold.

Both of you run away cackling as Nanami crumbles up the paper and tosses it into the trash, an angry scowl plastered on his face as he chases you both out of the building.

The drinks are completely forgotten that day.

☆- god you both are big fucking goofballs together. matching energy constantly and it makes everyone else miserable when they become targets of you and gojo's mishaps and chaos.

☆- at first, you guys were at odds with each other. gojo and geto were at the same state but you as well ? damn none of these first years are getting along with each other (besides shoko, she's the only one you tolerated at the time).

☆- once the tension ended between both pairs, you and gojo started hanging out more often.

☆- he has another person who he can latch onto and bother without much trouble and you have someone who can tolerate your silliness. it's a win-win.

☆- gojo won't say anything about it too often, but he really appreciates you being his friend because you enjoy him as a person and not for his immense strength. the most you'll do is compliment his powers and just move on casually like it's nothing new. it definitely means a lot more to him that he lets on.

☆- if you ever buy him souvenirs from missions, he will absolutely INSIST that he get something for you as well (possibly something more expensive too).

☆- as soon as gojo comes back from missions with geto, he's almost immediately by your side to tell you everything that happened.

☆- poor nanami is often the target for you two. you're the one who would apologize afterwards while gojo is not as sorry.

☆- after the events with toji, you were really worried about him. seeing him bloodied and scarred was not the sight you would usually see from your friend.

☆- he only went over the details once and never again, clearly not wanting to reimagine what he and geto had to experience. you give him a comfort hug and say that you'll be there to talk if either of them want to.

☆- the hangouts became less and less frequent for the two of you and everyone else due to gojo's growth as a sorcerer and busy schedule. as soon as he thinks he has time for a break, he has to leave for a mission.

☆- you always say that you don't mind, but he never stops apologizing.

☆- you never expected the news of what geto has done. shoko filled in the rest after her encounter with him, leaving you in shock and disarray of what happened.

☆- it wasn't a secret how close he and gojo were, even more than you two ever were. you didn't know whether it was something you should talk to him about or give him some space.

☆- you ended up letting him process everything first, sitting next to him in silence for some company.

☆- he confesses about his feelings for geto to you one day. you would've poked fun at him and said how obvious it was, but you keep quiet. you only listen to whatever he vents out.

☆- even after gojo starts acting like his normal self once more, you're never able to shake off your worry for him.

☆- he tells you about megumi and you feel REALLY bad for the kid and how he was going to end up. either sold off to the zenin clan or constantly being worked to death and losing comrades in a world that he may never escape from.

☆- never has the thought of you becoming a teen parent ever crossed your mind, but here you are. megumi and tsumiki mean the world to both of you and you constantly like to dote on them. tsumiki is open with her appreciation, yet megumi is still quiet (he expresses it in his own way and is more nicer to you than gojo).

☆- it's definitely a way to help keep your minds off of everything, you think to yourself as you help gojo raise the two siblings.

☆- no matter how many years pass, you know that gojo is still thinking about everything. the constant smiles and laughter you both continue to share is still genuine, but the pain is haunting him.

☆- it takes you a bit to get used to gojo's bandages once he switches out the glasses. his youth is gone and has been for a while, forcefully taken away from him.

☆- if gojo ever happened to visit geto in secret, whether it be an accident or a way to chase after those fleeting moments they couldn't catch back then, you keep quiet about it. it's probably not the healthiest thing for gojo but god, with how much he's been pushed and how his growth has doubled, you can't help but think that maybe it's what he needs right now.

☆- both of you were quick to defend yuta once he came into the picture. you felt bad for the kid, and for gojo with how hard he's been trying to save yuta's youth from being ruined like his was.

☆- it's not uncommon for you to see gojo in action, but you can't help feeling proud and watching him in awe as he fought the battles in the night parade of a hundred demons. you were dealing with your own opponents, occasionally glancing at gojo to keep an eye on him and his wellbeing. you knew he would be fine on his own, but you were ready to assist him the moment it seemed necessary.

☆- you were there for him again after geto's death. he comes back to you with an empty look in those blue eyes of his. you don't bother asking if he needed help to retrieve his body, knowing what gojo's choice was.

☆- for the first time in a while, he gives you a tight hug and cries. it's rare for you to see him like this, but it hurts to see him like this everytime. you can only whisper words of comfort and pet his hair as he sobs into your shoulder, clearly struck with grief over the loss of his one and only.

☆- those moments were kept between the both of you. he knew it was ok for him to express those emotions, yet he can't help but recoil everytime he looks back at those moments of how weak he felt. you assure him that it's natural to feel that way.

☆- gojo really appreciates you as a friend, and constantly reminds you after everything. you were always there for him, and he was always there for you. it still hurts knowing what gojo and the others had to endure after all these years.

☆- the two of you continue to stick next to each other, swearing to protect and teach the youth of the future generation of jujutsu sorcerers. there are constant jokes between each other of killing the executives (neither of you are entirely joking).

☆- you promise that you'll be there to support him, and gojo promises the same thing with a wide grin on his face. he gives you a harsh slap on the back and quickly scitters away from your payback.

☆- both of you are equally intolerable, jokes and pranks from the old days still prevalent even now.

☆- "i love you," he says one day while you two were watching over his newest student. yuji is sleeping on the couch, cursed corpse in hand as a movie plays in the background. you immediately smile to yourself and give an airy laugh, reaching up to ruffle his hair. it's nothing new, you both constantly express your friendly affections towards each other. yet you can't help but have a stupid grin on your face everytime.

☆- "love ya too, you loser," you respond. gojo smiles and rests his arm on your head with a dreamy sigh. you immediately regret your response as you poke him in the sides, his laughter ringing out into the room.

[numberonetacostan]

Wow Chionophobia was so good! I liked how Taco’s disappearance in the beginning was completely silent! It makes sense considering how stealthy she is, she’d probably learn to silence her movement to make sneaking around easier.

Goo was so silly!! I think his characterization was really good! Truly no other thoughts in his head except silliness, cheer and mlp..

Mic being stressed out the entire time ohh.. she was so worried! Especially when she couldn’t hear Taco with her hearing! I can’t imagine being able to know where basically any contestants are at all times but when she really needs to know it won’t work! That would put some not so good thoughts into Mic’s head of what could’ve happened to Taco!

Ohhhh Taco.. I’d imagine she doesn’t hide in the vents a whole lot. Maybe to travel throughout the hotel more discreetly if she wanted to be alone but not to stay in it for long periods of time. Could she have gone into them to try and be as far as possible from the snow? I wonder how her mindset was during her initial hiding- clearly she must’ve been so panicked.. her fear must be so intense to kick her mind and body into survival mode like that! It was almost like an instinct to try and get as far away from the snow as possible, not knowing nor caring where’d she end up as long as it was safe and inside- which automatically led her to the vents which would be the innermost part of the hotel. She’s literally in the walls! She probably had some nasty experiences during winter where she wasn’t sure if she was going to make it through the night due to the immense cold, or maybe her little den got snowed in once, or maybe she barely escaped being buried alive during a blizzard, or etc. etc. so much potential cause for it!

I’m glad it ended with a lighter note! Also NICKEL being the one to try to coax her out was so funny to me. He probably felt so awkward..

do you think Taco would open up to Mic about her fear of snow afterward when she’s more calmed down? Maybe at least a little so they could take more precautions for the next time it snows?

anyways can you tell I really enjoyed your fic? I hope you write more some time, I’d totally love to read more of your writing!

this is from Pocket btw! (Omg I have anon nickname I feel so honored haha!)

Hi Pocket!!^^ Welcome back, and THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING IN A MULTI-PARAGRAPH ASK ABOUT CHIONOPHOBIA!!! :D HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE MY FAVOURITE TODAY?

I keep going and checking on it with big sparkly eyes and reading through the comments because they bring me incredible amounts of joy!!!!!!!!!!! :D

Anyways, onto your ask!!

Yup!! She's a little stealth master!!! And Mic is distracted, hehe.

RIGHT!! He is so precious. Silly-billies his way into doing a great job handling a PTSD episode <3 Him sleeping next to her for so long helps her to start breathing slower, the hot chocolate helps to ground her, the infodumping gives her something to grasp onto to come out of the flashback, he is just a sweet little angel who has never done anything wrong in his entire life.

Mic is so very scared at that moment I'm glad you noticed!! :D Yeah normally she can hear everyone, usually even Taco when she's hiding away, but between Taco not talking and barely moving most of the day, and Goo infodumping right next to her, Mic can't pick up on her!! Which is so scary!!!

OH POCKET OH MY BESTIE YOU ARE SO RIGHT. THANK YOU FOR ASKING QUESTIONS I HAVE AN EXPLANATION THAT DIDN'T GO IN THE STORY AND NOW I GET TO TYPE IT OUT YIPPIE!!!!!! :D

So! Yes, a part of it is her wanting to be as far from the snow as possible!! She is seeking immediate shelter!! I tend to think of her home while she was in the woods being a little den underground, maybe a little room or two with a tunnel in between them. And, after the event that traumatized her which I'll go into in just a moment, she's hidden herself away in her den/tunnel at any sign of snow. The events of the fic are not the first time Taco has had the extreme reaction to snow, it has been a trigger for her for a long time. The vents are not only hidden away, but the closest thing to her old den in the mansion. It's partially out of habit, in that way, since she's always hidden in her den when there was snow.

As for the event that caused the trauma, it goes as follows. Shortly after the end of season one, (Which ended early-mid December) and very shortly after the hotel was built (which seeing as it was made from MeLife, I doubt took very long), there was an absolutely bloody massive blizzard. A few meters or so of snow. And see, since this was so soon after the end of season one, Taco had nothing established, and no tools. She didn't have any den to hide in, she didn't have anything to cover herself with, and with the timing the hotel was very much not an option. She very much did get buried, and would've had to claw her way out of the snow a few times as it piled up. I doubt she could've made it there even if it was. She'd ended up with severe hypothermia after this, and I'd say the only reason she survived it is because she's made from MeLife. We don't know whether it was possible for them to die from things like hypothermia/starvation/etc., but let's just leave it that if they could have, she very likely would have. It was a living hell <3. She didn't have a shelter while she was sick or anything- she was out in the snow that entire time until it melted on its own. Which was quite a long time. And naturally, that experience traumatizes the living daylights out of her.

He did feel incredibly awkward, and also hated being the vents. He is a teensy bit claustrophobic to me <3. He likes Taco and everything, but he is not good with feelings, yeah?

Yup! Immediately post-fic, she'd still be nonverbal for a few days, and probably still hang out with Goo a lot. He's a comfort for her now, and of course he hasn't finished recapping all of My Little Pony in incredible detail to her. [Some readers pointed out the implication that he remembers every single episode in detail and in order, and I'd like to clarify- yes, yes he does.] Once Taco is talking a bit more though, which would also be over the course of a few days, Mic would probably start to broach the subject with her. I don't think Taco would give her all the details yet, since her trauma surrounding snow is still like, 0% healed at the moment, but Mic is so sincerely worried about her that Taco would give her the rundown. A sentence or two about having gotten caught in a blizzard once and having gotten sick afterwards. I don't think she could get out more than that at this point, without tears at least.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I'M SO SO SO SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED!!!! XD!!!!!! I'm hoping to write some more too!! I have an au related to the question I'd posted earlier today in the works that seems like it might be worthy of being actually written, though it would be a bit. I'd be kind of pointless to post the outline for Chionophobia since I posted the actual story, but to use it as an example, it's outline is significantly more detailed than the outlines/story summaries I usually post on here, because I need that detail to help me actually write the story. So basically, I'll have to write a nice, thorough outline before I write the story, which may take time. Or not. I thought Chionophobia would take longer but 22 hours and 19 pages later, there I was ready to post, so.

Anyways I'm so glad you're happy abt your nickname and thank you so so so so much for reading and sending this in!!! <3 <3 <3

[harmonia-university]

Answering your Legendary-related Questions

Hey guys, this is the Askblog Council! Hope you enjoyed Professor Elsie's question answering session from the other week! If you remember, we had another professor answering questions related to Legendary and Mythical history - and after many long hours of translation, we've got the responses here! We’ve received permission to reveal the professor’s identity - Dr. Menthe Cormier. Hopefully he will join the blog program soon!

Without further ado, here's the main event!

How have legendary and mythical Pokemon been viewed by civilized Pokemon throughout history? As heroes and inspirations? Spiritual guides and deities? Demons or devils?

Legendary and Mythical Pokemon have been historically known for having shaped the universe as it is now. Every single one of these species contributed to something, either big or small in the formation of this world. So, they were highly regarded by both humans and Pokemon alike. However, due to these Pokemons' immense power and potential, they were common targets of humans wanting to gain some of it for their own. Which probably exacerbated the war and the extinction of humans.

Nowadays, Pokemon-kind don't really think of Legendaries/Mythicals being otherwordly beings anymore, due to there being a good number of them becoming civilized and integrated into the normal world. After all, they are still Pokemon like the rest of us.

What is religion like in this world? Is there a form of Arceus worship? If not, how do you view it?

Yes, there are Pokemon who worship Arceus. In fact, this practice dates back to the ancient human era. Of all legendary pokemon, Arceus is the most mysterious, there are many stories surrounding it but no concrete evidence of anyone encountering it for themselves. I guess it makes sense, for a Pokemon said to have sparked the creation the entire universe. All Pokemon, Legendary or not, were created from this pokemon’s fingertips.

However nowadays, this practice has fallen off a bit. Because of the gradual integration of all Pokemon into society and humans having less of an impact, I guess a lot of folks don't see a reason to really do it anymore. It's mostly popular with the older generation.

I personally do not practice, but I am inclined to believe that Arceus is probably out there, very real.

How do different Legendary and Mythical Pokemon come about and how are they treated in the world?

As I have said before, they are treated as any other Pokemon would be. The vast majority of them evolved as Pokemon civilization evolved and live out their lives as mortals. These Pokemon cannot reproduce, and that's where a lot of the mystery comes from.

Well, except it isn't a mystery. I'm working on a big paper that provides the explanation - there is a world, parallel to the mortal world, that's completely inhabited by Legendaries and Mythicals. It is extremely well-hidden from the rest of the world. The population is only growing, and at an alarming rate - some Pokemon are sent off almost immediately after birth to enter the mortal world. And hope that some nice mortals will find them and adopt them as their own.

Here are some answers to questions about specific Legendary and Mythical species:

Have you ever been grateful enough to encounter a Shaymin? What was this encounter like? Is there any folklore about Shaymin in your world?

Yes. In my youth, I have encountered a shaymin. It was my very first encounter with a Legendary/Mythical Pokemon. Running into a legendary or mythical isn’t as enthralling as you may think. It's intimidating at first, but after all, they are regular Pokemon, just like us - they have, and still do integrate themselves into Pokemon society. Anyways, I digress. I suppose this particular meeting was special due to the fact that the Shaymin I met was in fact - a feral one. I wonder how he is doing now.

Did you know that the Gracidea flower is capable of curing any illness or injury? I’m still conducting some research on how it functions but my assumption is that it has something to do with a Shaymin’s ability to purify air from toxins. Perhaps this ability can be extended to other areas of nature and biology as well.

Do Jirachi actually grant wishes? And is it know how that works if so?

Yes, every Jirachi is capable of granting three wishes, each one using up a tag on its head. After the three wishes are used up, the Jirachi enters a slumbering state, ascends into space and turns into a meteorite. Every thousand or so years, they reawaken as part of a special meteor shower event.

However, this meteor shower has not been seen for quite some time. The last one was due 75 years ago. Jirachis nowadays seem disinterested in their role of granting wishes. I suppose with Pokemon being civilized, they would rather go on living their lives not having to miss it for a thousand years. I do not blame them.

How about Zeraora? How do they come about? How can I go about getting into the History program here? (Asked by a Zeraora)

I'm afraid not much is known about this species. Zeraora is a very rare Mythical Pokemon, only having being caught by a number of trainers back during the human era. I could probably count that number on one hand. They are not very common in the Legendary world as well. I'm trying to get in contact with someone who could enlighten me more on this species, and other rare species in general, but no luck so far.

You seem to know a good deal about it however, I would be willing to take you on as an assistant temporarily to conduct some research, if you would like. You'd also be welcome to take any history classes that you are interested in!

Closing remarks:

This seems to be all of the questions that I received from the Askblog council so far. I would be delighted to answer more questions if any do come in. I'm hoping one day, we will be able to meet each other. Especially because I am undertaking such a gargantuan research project at the moment, it would be great to get some outside help.