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thesummerpetrichor · 5 months ago

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𝓨𝓸𝓾 ��𝓪𝓷 𝓫𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓭𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂

Father in law!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: Your soon to be husband leaves you at the alter, but you should have guessed since the practice seemed to run in the family. It’s hard to be upset however, when his father comes to repent for not only his own but his son’s wrong doings. Aka fiancé’s dad Javi fucking you in your wedding dress after his son ditches you at the altar.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Minimal editing, unspecified but thicc and legal age gap, infidelity, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, insane dirty talk, toxic father son relationship, reader is delulu, praise kink, petnames, sex in front of a mirror, veil pulling??, a few spanks, creampie, Javi fucks you into the mattress, unprotected P in V [don’t do it!!]. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶.

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Literally just porn without plot, lotsa fucking, I want father in law Javi. Minimally edited lmao I just banged this out Can’t wait for you to read it!! Hope you enjoy, nasties! Mwah!

Masterlist

You rich and I'm wishin', um

You could be my mister, yum

Delicious to the maximum

Chew you up like bubble gum

You love me, he wants me

I think I want you too

Best day of your life- yeah, what a fucking joke. But what were you expecting? Ditching people at the altar seemed to run in the family. Okay, maybe that was a bit of a harsh assessment of the Peñas, especially Peña senior, who, despite all you had heard of him from your ex fiance, had always shown you kindness.

The thing is, it becomes really fucking hard to be charitable to a family when their son humiliates you infront of the entirety of Texas. Leaves you high and dry on the steps of the biggest church in town in your great grandmother’s silk dress. It becomes even harder when you learn his mother had been in on it all along, sparing you not even a little apology, or a comforting embrace after her son's little getaway plan had been revealed.

Instead of extending you a supporting hand, she ran away to make sure her baby boy was okay, and that this entire ordeal hadn’t taken a toll on his emotional and psychological well being.

How thoughtful.

Of course, you were the pathetic one– unable to look anyone in the eye, sobbing on your fathers shoulder till you couldn’t breathe any longer. So distraught and unwell even getting out of your wedding attire seemed impossible. It only made you feel even more pathetic. At some point you ended up curling up in your hotel bed, still in the “happiest day of your life” outfit, and pleading for some time alone from your friends and family to wallow in your own suffering.

You would eat your feelings in the from of the apology chocolates the hotel had complimented for you, but you couldn’t manage to even do that without feeling like a total fucking looser.

After all that had transpired, and after years of hearing nothing but sour things about your soon to be father in law, safe to say you were surprised to see him at your hotel room door at midnight as the ambassador the family seemingly sent to smooth things over.

For it being only your second time meeting the man, this was far from the most opportune scenario. In fact, him showing up all sorrowful and apologetic for his shitty excuse of a son, in his navy blue suit and loose tie, made your already pathetic day all the more difficult to get through.

Your whole relationship you had blamed every fault of your boyfriend on his absent, detached father. You’d heard plenty about the lack of childhood visits, quality time, and playing soccer that had plagued your partner’s life, and had found it quite easy and comforting to pile on every relationship problem you ever came across as the consequence of Javier Peña’s lack of responsibility and good parenting.

What you didn’t expect, was to find that Javi Peña was a whole lot more normal and level headed than you anticipated. He was just a guy trying to make a good living and provide for his family. Sure, he was a little bit reserved, but he was only ever warm and sweet and even quite chatty with you. To be frank, you should have seen your boyfriend’s shitty behavior as a consequence of his insufferable mother from a mile away. God knew you weren’t expecting Peña Sr. to be the better of your two soon to be in laws.

That being said, you would have never expected to be on your hands and knees, on what was supposed to be your marital bed, being pounded from behind by your ex soon to be father in-law.

Because that's where you are now, eyes rolling to the back of your head thanks to the most intense pleasure you've ever felt. The drag of Javis cock against your walls has been building a steady heat in your belly, the stretch of him so perfect and delicious it has you pushing your hips back to meet his every thrust.

Any other day a man like him wouldn’t have needed much to woo you– with his cut jaw, handsome features and those chocolate brown eyes you wished his son had inherited. Safe to say on a day like this one it took even less, just a few rubs on your back, a hand smoothing over your head and trailing down your waist, a few “pretty girls” and “poor things” and some fucking sympathy from someone from your boyfriends sorry family.

Fucking pathetic.

But Javier knows his son is pathetic, knows he is a good for nothing moron who doesn't even know what he was losing out on when he walked out on you.

“He’s a fuckin fool- look at this tight little pussy, squeezin’ me so fuckin good. Bet he didn’t fuck ya like this, huh baby? Didn’t make ya cum over and over, make ya scream… stupid fuckin boy..” Javier’s grip on your hips tightens on hearing your moan, and he curses under his breath when your pussy flutters around his cock.

Your legs are threatening to give out under you, your knees tender from how long you've been leaning on them. Javier’s hand moves to grip the fabric of your veil, using it to pull your head back and make you face the mirror that's been teasing you all evening. “Look- Look at ya- fuckin cryin’ on my cock. ‘S the only reason ya’ shoulda’ be cryin’ in this pretty dress..” With drooping eyes you're faced with your own reflection– stains from your mascara running down your face now less thanks to the sorry of the afternoon and more thanks to the way Javi’s cock has been nudging your sweetspot.

You watch your tits spill out of your beautiful silk dress, the fabric now disheveled and a far cry from the sophisticated, simplistic garment it once was. You can barely recognise it, but then again you can barely recognise your own reflection. “Look at that pretty little body- fuckin made for me.”

“Yours-” you cut yourself off with a gasp, Javi’s hands squeeze your hips and your cheeks set ablaze at the way he looks at you when you catch it in the mirror. The whole sight is so debauched and depraved– you on your hands and knees for a man who could easily be mistaken for your father. But somehow it's even dirtier- the possibility of your ex finding out sends you into overdrive.

The silk of your dress brushes against your hot skin, flipped lewdly up to reveal your bare ass, bunched at the waist, the straps drooping and threatening to fall. Javi pulls the zip down even further, watching as it hangs off your body, draped like fabric from a 15th century painting.

Javi’s voice calls your attention back to the present moment, lewd words showing you he doesn't hold back the way his son does. “Gonna fill this tight little cunt up..” The stretch is so delicious between your legs, you feel the steady throb continue to tighten the coil inside you and you can’t help but moan. “Yeah, you want that? Want daddy to put a baby in you?” the thought makes you shiver, that name makes you shiver, has your cunt clenching around his cock. What an image- you, belly round with your father in laws child, well, your ex father in law. Unlike his son you were sure he would be the perfect husband, would bend you over ever surface in your picket fence house and fuck you just like he’s doing now.

Deep, and hard and fast, just like you need it. Just like you've always needed it..

“Please daddy, want your babies, wanna be yours…” Your voice is so broken and wrecked you're afraid he can’t understand what you're even saying. To be honest you can’t be bothered much, it feels so good, his thick, hard cock feels so good pounding between your thighs there's little else you can keep your mind on.

“Yeah? you like that sweetheart? we can play house..” you nod your head and his hand tightens its grip around your veil, exaggerating your movements, bending you to his will. “Wanna play house with daddy? can be my pretty little wife” you fist the sheets, pushing back against him with his every thrust. You do want that, you’ve always wanted that. And what better person to do it with. Sure, his wife always complained about how he was never around, but that's looking a lot more like a her problem– especially with the way Javi’s tip continues to kiss your sweet spot.

“Yes daddy, please..”

Javier lets go of your veil, and pushes his palm between your shoulder blades, forcing you down into the mattress till your cheek is pressed against the warm, fluffy duvet. One hand keeps you there, the other lands a quick spank to your ass and kneads at the flesh with a newfound desperation. “Won't be able to even say his goddamn name after I'm done with ya. Stupid boy doesnt know how to treat a pretty thing like you– so sweet, so gorgeous, so fucking smart. Too fucking good for him.”

With your lips parted and breathing heavy you drool onto the covers, letting Javi pound you into the mattress and overshadow every other thought that dared cross your head earlier in the day. If his plan is to make you forget about anything that isn't him, it sure is working. You don't think you’d even want to sound out his incompetent son’s name after he’s done with you.

As if he can read your mind his voice calls from behind you. “Want ya to be drippin with me.” the wet schick of his cock fucking into your tight, wet, hole reminds you of just how needy you are for him, and the prospect of having him dripping out of you– down your thighs, between your legs, leaving you all messy for him to come back and do it all over again, drives you absolutely insane.

“He’s fuckin useless, just like his ma. But look at you, so fucking tight ‘round me, making all those pretty sounds, she fuckin’ wishes she was you.” His words have your cunt squeezing around his cock, and a lewd, pornographic moan slipping past your lips. “My girl’s gonna be the perfect lil’ mamma, aren’t ya, so fuckin’ pretty.” You would certainly like that- in fact you’re almost surprised with how appealing it sounds to you.

“Gonna be perfect for you daddy, only for you.” your dress rides up even further, the front slipping further down.

“Thats my fucking girl.” That growl of his sends shivers down your spine– possessive, and confident and dripping like honey from his lips. It was almost like it could send you over the edge by itself. The lewd creaking of the bedframe fills the room, the sound of skin on skin driving you wild. The way he handles you– firm and deft but gentle and passionate, it's nothing like his son.

He’s nothing like his son.

“Yeah, bet it feels good don’t it, bein’ fucked by a real man? Feel daddy so deep in ya? Nothin ever been that deep before, huh..” You shake your head ‘no’ and he coos at how pathetic you must sound, barely able to make a coherent sound, forget string together a whole sentence.

“Make me go fuckin’ crazy, babygirl.”

What he says is fucking filthy, there’s no denying, no justifying it. It makes you squirm, makes you even wetter, makes you want him even more.

“Think you wanna go back to him? With daddy’s cum drippin between those pretty thighs, show him how a real man treats his girl?”

“Gonna make ya beg him to stay, gonna talk some sense into him, just so daddy can have ya all to himself, ain't that right? You gonna sneak into daddy’s room in the middle of the night? All wet an’ achy? Beggin’ daddy to fuck ya how ya need?”

“Wanna run away with me baby, live in a perfect little house, let daddy give ya his babies, fuck ya full’ve my cum every single night?”

His hands roam your body, smoothing over your hips, reaching forward to squeeze at your breasts, pinching and kneading the flesh. He bends down to trail light kisses along your spine and the feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Your head twists side to side against the sheets as you squirm, each sensation like it's heightened to the maximum, the heaviness and the throb between your thighs at an all time high.

You know you're close, you can’t hold it off much longer. Your cunt squeezes and your toes curl. You also know Javi won't last, you can feel him pulse against your swollen walls, can feel the way he desperately thrusts into you, pushes you further down against the mattress, grips your skin with that renewed fervor, with the desperation of doing anything to hold on to the incredible sensation.

“Come for me, babygirl, come for daddy, show daddy how much ya needed this, show daddy how bad ya need his cock.”

Your legs part even further under you, if that's even physically possible, your entire upper body being smashed into the mattress. You call out Javi’s name, followed by a string of desperate, strained, whiny daddy daddy daddy’s.

With a strangled moan that's partially muffled by the covers you come undone, your head spins and your heart pounds in your chest, you feel yourself gush and clamp down around his cock. You feel Javi’s hips stutter behind you and his cock throb against your wet walls. The feeling only prologues and intensifies your orgasm, your body going slack and eyes rolling back into your head.

“Please daddy, need your cum, please, give it to me..”

Javi’s groans catch your attention as you come down from your high, still reeling from the aftershocks when you feel his cock twitch inside you and paint your walls with his hot spend. Your words are strained and slurred, but they clearly get the job done. You shiver and press your ass back against him to meet his stuttery, sloppy thrusts, and bite your lip when you feel him tighten his grip on your hip, feel him land a final spank to your ass for good measure as he slows down.

You keep your ass in the air, face still pressed against the mattress as Javi pulls out. You hear him mutter a few strained curses under his breath as he does, and catch him looking between your legs to see his spend obscenely leak out of your used hole. He reaches his fingers to rub against your messy folds and you whine, feel him gather up your juices and push them back inside your cunt in a way that has you almost cumming right there again.

Your dress is still pooled at your waist and he unzips it entirely, sneaking his hands under your thighs and flipping you over and yanking you towards him.

“You really want daddy’s babies?” Your head falls back against the bed when you feel his hand cup your cunt, rub your messy, swollen folds with the calloused tips of his fingers. You barely manage to nod.

“Then I ain’t done with ya yet pretty girl.” You tilt your chin to catch his gaze, now in nothing but your stupid little wedding veil. You’re not sure about the best day of your life, but this sure as hell contends for one of the best nights.

You can be my daddy tonight-night-night

I'm neon phosphorescent

Open like a Christmas present, oh

You can be my daddy tonight-night-night

If you're seeking heaven

Then you wanna come and get it alright

Be my daddy tonight

What's up what's up

Be my daddy be my daddy

Be my daddy be my, be my daddy tonight

AHHHHH feel like I’m going to hell for this one. Thanks so much for reading!! Please please please let me know what you think. I’d love to know your thoughts!!! Thank you to everyone who engages with my work, you keep me writing!! 💗🐝

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inferno-0 · 3 months ago

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⌞ SATAN X READER ⌝ - Headcanons

I have never written about them yet, my apologies for the oversight..

* The courts, of course, are an interesting part of the concern that surrounds him to this hellish day, to administer justice, to formulate a clear task, and in the end to give his lawful word. Honestly, it freezes out, even if it has interesting stories on the part of the plaintiff. There are many ways to summarize, but he will be much better off when the trial ends with your conversation. To be more honest, Satan likes to immerse himself in your wording, which is actually much more logical than the rest of the sinners in the area. Even an ordinary word coming out of your mouth makes him listen and agree. Satan, as it turned out, finds it easier to cope with this turmoil next to you (Somewhere in the corner of the hall). Simply put, without you, he would have already gone out of control several times, completely ignoring Yogirt.

* If you know how to manage your emotions and always remain calm in any stressful situations, Satan might have signed up for therapy with you. He lacks this, believe me. The Big Boss really needs this quality, even though he is the personification of Wrath himself. Partially, he can control it, but his inner bowels always crawl out, keeping the rest of the sinners in fear. You prefer to be silent at such a moment, because you know where you need to do it and where you can't. Not all personalities will like the way they are silenced in anger. After the trial, you go to talk to him, knowing what you will ask and what is the best argument for him. Yogirt claps his hands in happiness, meeting you again.

* Satan is really calm to us when he is left alone with you, sometimes steam can come out of his nostrils, when he remembers the judgment that took place while telling a story, But your slow stroking on his paw immediately melts the irritation. Anyone else might be reflexively bent over in fear, but you still continue to walk towards him without a single thought of danger. Satan admires you and is not even afraid to tell you so, but more professionally, so that it does not sound like flirting, although he does not mind about it. The mortal sin may continue to show his temper only to meet you again. Yogirt is about to tell you everything, while Satan looks at you briefly during another growl to the entire room.

I'm writing to you through a translator, that's why my English is lame.

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #Satan x reader #Helluva boss Satan #Helluva boss satan x reader #xReader #helluva boss headcanon #Satan #Headcanons #Satan Headcanons #Satan x reader Headcanons #Helluva boss x reader Headcanons #Helluva boss x reader headcanons

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shaisuki · 8 months ago

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❝ WOUNDS FOR ME TO HEAL. ❞

✞ FEATURING. BULLY! GOJO SATORU AND GETO SUGURU

▶ SERIES MASTERLIST

CONTENT WARNINGS. body image + talks about insecurities + mentions of past traumas + angst + ooc geto and gojo. i wrote this at five am and i still have not sleep yet.

NOTES. i'm sorry for the lack of update on this series. I've kind of lost interest in this one since i'm no good in plotting and writing multiple chaps. you can read from how it have gotten boring starting from the previous chapters. i apologize now for the confusion of the plot.

SYNOPSIS. to break from the past you desperately want to forget, facing them is the only choice you have left to move forward and is forgiveness is easy to be given as it was forgetting.

your fingers reach for the switch. flipping it and the light turns on, illuminating the bathroom where you spent your days staring at the large mirror by the sink. back in the days you avoided mirrors finding your reflection repulsive added by the torture where they forced you to touched yourself. confidence isn't the only qualities you wished you have and maybe thing weren't be this bad. a constant battle to yourself where you always lose.

grabbing the collar of your coat, you slowly removed it, followed by stripping out of your blouse and then your pants until you were left in your undergarments. there in the mirror stood you.

your reflection clear as the daylight and you can see every imperfections that you hated. the words came echoing how the strangers surrounded you holds such sharp tongues about your body when they didn't live on it. the venom in the words stinging your skin like it was a sin to grew with a body you have.

you scan your body with every flaw you can see starting from your face. round and the baby fat since you were born didn't dissolve as you grew up. the cheeks remains the same. you slightly cringe at the pain surfacing. this is where gojo have pinched your cheeks so bad that they started to bruise. he pays no attention to your eyes swelling with tears, too indulged in the feeling of the softness of your cheeks that he can't believe that they were that squishy and the many times where they would grasp it when they force to look in the eyes. geto is cruel when he comes to cup your cheeks in his hands and your jaw also.

then your eyes. the eyes you own where it cried tears. there's nothing bad about them. it just it have seen the hundreds of event in where they defiled you. the degrading actions you have done out of their expenses and you hear nanami's words. “they're kind. the gentlest of eyes i have seen in a person. never to cloud with wrath and kindness is the only thing you could ever see.” you remember him saying that to you. one night when you're in the brink of losing yourself and you lost the hope to move forward. you find his own eyes staring back at you. honey is the color of them and when you look farther it's brown and then this close it's a different shade of color. a sugar caramelizing in a hot pan and the thought of nanami's eyes brought you peace.

you see your lips curving into a smile in the reflection but it turns into a thin line when your eyes move to look at your flabby arms. the slightest of movement and just holding of it moves. you remember a joke to one of your skinny classmates that it is almost the size of their legs while it's true, you thought that they should have never pointed it out since you already knew it and it's not like within seconds it would disappear.

it was with you in a different time of the span of your life and then the biggest insecurity that comes into view is your stomach. it was round with the pooch almost drooping down but it is still big that pokes in tight shirts and where you find him lying down. your palms touch the squishy flesh. you grabbed a handful of it before letting it go. watching it jiggle and you look at it weird. it once carried life and after scrutinizing yourself from head to toe. you never changed and only gained the weight. you laugh at yourself like you heard something stupid. you tried to lost the weight but it's something that won't leave you and you accepted it. long ago where you've decided you want to be a better version for yourself and for the people that surrounds you, especially the two who have been your light.

after your little session with yourself, you made it a habit to do so. to remind what needed to be done and you won't be blinded again by such pretentious acts. part of you wanted to fight but you were weak and you cannot be weak when you want to fight. you set aside the thoughts for tonight, what happened earlier scared you. meeting him early wasn't intended but you did and it scares you. what if you suddenly revert back to the old helpless you. your body can betray you at such times and you needed a mind to remind and you scoff. you act like the wounds and how they scarred you didn't turned your flight or fight mode. there are things that much needed your attention and you're only starting to wrap things up.

after a quick bite, you quickly made your way to your work cubicle. paperwork's are starting to pile and you don't want to be buried underneath by it and you start except there was a huge bouquet of flowers sitting in your desk. an arrangement of deep purple hyacinths and daffodils. there's no note about it but you knew where this is coming from. without a second thought you grabbed the flower arrangement that cost more than what its worth and dunked it into your trash can. you didn't need it. it's a distraction and flowers won't make you forget and forgive. it would cost more than that.

sighing, you rubbed a sore spot in your temple. taking a big breath and exhaling. you settled in your chair. punching the keyboard with the documents needing to be submitted in the later day. glancing at the already wilting flowers rotting in your trash. this isn't going to be easier. they're already moving and sooner or later you're going to meet them. your fears already coming back and you clenched your fists. crumpling the paper you hold.

“satoru~”

a flirtatious voice coming from his fiancee who is seated on his lap. poking him with her acrylic nail in his cheek to get his attention. “you're not spending time with me anymore.” her voice sad and the gloss in her lips sticks upon pouting. gojo almost rolls his eyes but for appearances and to satiate his fiancee's attention from him, he plays along. “sayuri, i am. why are you in my lap then?” he bites his tongue from making it sound sarcastic but his fiancee was oblivious to it and continues her childish whims to to him.

“because i missed you and i want your attention.” her hands creeping up on his thigh and satoru winces from it. he hold her wrist. “laters, baby. i'm expecting company.” he interrupts her advances and it made her annoyed.

“with who?” she asks. batting those eyelashes that made her look like a stupid bitch. “suguru.” her eyes brightened like she received a good news. “then he won't mind.” she says. trying to convince him of staying but gojo isn't convinced in the slightest. sayuri's been desperately clinging to him since college and hasn't left his side ever she knows that they were about to be engaged and now engaged, she's been worst.

“private matters between us and it's not your business.” he doesn't look at her and his sight stays glued to his phone. sayuri smiles at him before kissing his cheeks and then getting up on his lap much to her dismay. she began to slowly walk away and part of her hopes he would call her and ask her to stay. say he don't mind and suguru could go fuck himself if he don't want her staying him but it was a far cry from what she hoped. deep down, she's always second to the bitch that got the best friends head over heels even if they won't show it, especially satoru but what about it, the fat bitch's probably dead and she's the winner. satoru belongs to her and later suguru would be next. the heels click against the cold floors and that's the only thing she hears as she walked away from her fiancé's office and with her thoughts.

his eyes search for something, specifically someone. the one who had been haunting him since that accident. your disappearance were a blow to him and he longs to see you again even a glimpse of you is enough to know you were alive and within in his grasp.

he spots you taking a phone call, papers in your hand as you diligently arranged them while being in a call and it was enough for him. a small smile etched in his face. while in the elevator ride, you didn't change after that. still plump and you look like you've gained more and his hands itched to touch you. feel your body move and hear your voice.

despite busy schedules he took time to meet satoru who was equally busy as him. he's building his own firm with the influence he have it won't take long before it's established and he already have people following him and he was earning from it.

the elevator dings, stepping out. he barely glanced at satoru's secretary. what's the reason to check up on his secretary when he usually frequents the building and is a long time friends with the ceo.

upon entering, he finds satoru in deep thought. “yo, satoru.” he casually calls him and satoru perks up at the sound of his voice. they settled in one of the couches except for where he's seated as the ceo.

“is there a progress, satoru?” he began. since you were in gojo's turf working under him, he let gojo shoot his shot at you and from the looks of it, the answer is disappointing and when this kind of dilemma occurs. patience isn't what satoru's next move. it would be brash and that will definitely spook you for good. suguru chuckles at satoru's silence before sipping from his cup or tea he brewed.

“flowers won't win her, satoru and certainly not those gifts you've been dumping on her desk. bet she'd thrown that out. she's not you fiancee.”

gojo groans at the thing where his fiancee is brought up and the failed attempts of wooing you anonymously. you know it was him but choose to ignore it without hesitation of dumping his gifts and not even showing the faintest of appreciation.

“and what do you propose, suguru?”

they both exchanges gazes and they know what the answer is. they have to meet you, personally.

it's been a year since you've started working here for the company and your supervisor have taken a liking to you. you were more like of her assistant than the other and you kinda felt bad about it since you're eclipsing her job but the other's fine with it means she could slack and you can even workloads now with the same pay check. you didn't complain though and with your supervisor being this attentive you might get the recommendation you needed to rise and it would be a good reference for when you're about to switch jobs.

currently, you were busy preparing the files that were needed for a meeting. the client decided they would like to meet up in a private restaurant. it wasn't a first to you since you've dealt previous appointments similar to this and besides your supervisor was going to be there or is she?

apparently, she have to cancel and let you handle this one since she trusts you she says before running to the upper floor to get her other duties. it was last minute that's why she have to let you go alone and you accepted it without hesitation cause you were just getting over proposals. get them to sign and you're done. it's courtesy to transact faster.

a high-end restaurant is where they have decided and you weren't surprised by it. half of the work force who have the same job as yours and exclusive clients choose to use restaurants like this as a meeting place.

upon arrival, you greeted the host and told the name of the client.

“hi, i have the reservation under mr. kobayashi for three pm.” you politely inform him and the host nods before ushering you to a private room. “mr. kobayashi informed us that he will be running late and you have to wait here.” the host told you and you nod. understanding the situation and this happens occasionally. you thanked him before seating in one of the chairs. you didn't bother to notice the arrangements since your supervisor isn't available at the moment. thus, you began to review the files you were about to show mr. kobayashi.

the doors open and that takes your attention from the files you were checking. your head low and when you raised your head. standing up to greet mr. kobayashi. the words for stuck before you can utter his name.

it wasn't mr. kobayashi, a balding man, whose in his fifties in a suit is what you expected instead it was two of them who have entered. a matching suit and tie but it differs in color. a navy colored suit is what gojo wear and a coal black suit for geto.

“stay where you are, (y/n). we have things to discuss.” suguru started and your legs felt weak. your heart beating rapidly and your hands starts to feel clammy. you want to throw up and just like that, it looks like you were teleported back in that cold room where you lay naked without a voice to speak and the strength to fight back.

after ordering the waiter to come back for a another hour, you feel trapped again with no means of escape. they can easily hold you down and worse, do it again. you have never felt this fear so you distract yourself from taking a sip of water.

they both sat down in their chairs beside you. not too far, not too close but it doesn't ease your nerves. you placed your hand in your thigh, your leg hasn't stopped shaking. a tick that developed, being triggered when you are put in a stress.

satoru places his hand in your shoulder. “don't touch me.” you muster the courage to speak up and he was quick to retract his hand back to its place. a touchy asshole who can't live without any physical contact. he was visibly annoyed and suguru shoots him a look.

“we won't do anything to you, (y/n). we just want answers.” suguru assures you. you take a brief look at him and you take a deep breath.

“answers for what? i'm not obligated to answer the questions you want to ask.” you swallowed thickly. you should have done it a long time ago. talk like this but you would get a spanking for it.

satoru rolls his eyes. you were this feisty since college and he's getting the full brunt of it right now. he's not the same anymore he would tell himself but sometimes he still is. “what happened to you that night?” is the first question he asked you. they know what happened to you that night but it would ease them if the answer comes from you.

you raised a brow at him. tears pooling at the corner of your eyes. you didn't have much memory of it except for when you woke up at a hospital with nanami and haibara at your side.

“i don't know. i just woke up in a hospital. doctors saying i was in coma for two days. might as well be dead.” you say without hesitation and you just want to leave this room.

their expressions is what you cannot make. disbelief? confusion? guilt? you laughed at the last part since when these two felt guilt about what happened to you. they certainly didn't feel guilty when you were crying your eyes out begging them to stop.

“why come working at my company, (y/n)-chan?” gojo was the next to ask you and you want nothing than to wipe that look on his face.

“don't you call me (y/n)-chan. i am not your (y/n)-chan. i needed a job. isn't it that obvious.” you want to scoff at him and you didn't dare make eye contact to the both of them.

“you transferred hospitals and never came back. w—”

“why i didn't came back?” you interrupted geto. oh boy, you were starting to spit venom. “so what? you can fuck me all over again?”

gojo was about to open his mouth again but you beat him to it. “it's not what it is? you didn't mean it? what? you two are changed people now? stop with the excuses and please i want to be excused in this farce of a meeting.”

“you're not resigning.” gojo warns you. “rest assured i'm not going to. i'm not planning to break my contract.” you tell him. your voice barely above a whisper. trying to keep your tears at bay.

“(y/n)...” suguru mutters. his hand holding your cheek and you close your eyes. his touch repulsed you but why does your body wanted to be held like this. he comes closer. “we can't change what we did to you but will you allow us to make it up to you?”

you opened your eyes and you met his own and it just reminded you of the misery and the torture they put you through. the same eyes who looks at you like you were trash is now somewhat holding warmth. you glance at gojo and he was also anticipating for your answer.

you inhaled and then exhaled. a stray tear rolling down in your cheek and it pains them to see you hurting from what they have done. they'll do anything in their power to make up for the pain they caused you. say the word and they'll do it. your forgiveness is what they wanted and maybe your affections too but they won't take that chance easily.

your eyes searched for the sincerity in their looks and mostly in their eyes and it was honestly true to their words and you hate yourself for what you are about to answer.

“i'll think about it.”

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#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝#chubby reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x chubby reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #series #jjk angst

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certaimromance · 7 months ago

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𝜗𝜚 Hide & Seek.

Post prison Reid x Reporter!reader

Read part two here!

Summary: The night with your boyfriend is going perfectly, and you couldn't be happier, until he receives an unexpected call telling him that information about an important case has been leaked to the press, and many doubts about you appear.

Words: 2,5k.

Warnings & Tags: mentions of crime. fem!reader. established relationship. angst WITHOUT a happy ending. mistrust and lack of communication. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Again I apologize in advance for this, but I love exploring Spencer's character and his changes. It's so funny to know that the one from the first seasons would never do this but I love him anyway.

Your smile couldn't have been bigger at that moment.

After several weeks of work and no time to see your boyfriend or send him more than two text messages, you finally find yourself humming cheesy love songs next to him and hugging him whenever you want. You had only been in his apartment for a few hours after the universe and all the stars had aligned so that neither of you had to work that night and you could have your long-awaited quality time together. It was certainly much needed for both of you and could be a bit of a celebration for finally getting a raise.

The sweet smell of the candles you both had placed on the table mixed with the ingredients on the countertop, creating a much more homey atmosphere. After much thought, the two of you had decided to make some homemade cookies with different fruits to eat yourselves and give some to your friends. You had always loved baking, especially when it came to desserts, and being able to do it with Spencer was even better. Although you knew he was only doing it to make you happy because he was pretty clumsy in the kitchen.

“I think you have some flour here, sweetheart.” You could feel him running his finger over your face, laughing as he smudged you, then stepping back a little to look proudly at his handiwork. “You look so cute.”

“Really? You want to play, Dr. Reid?”

You raised an eyebrow and gave him a menacing look, and made a quick move to smear some flour on him and get on the same terms. But you barely managed to mess him up a bit when he gently grabbed your wrists and planted a kiss on your lips, pushing any thoughts of revenge from your mind.

“You cheated, it's not fair.” You murmured against his lips as you both pulled away from the kiss.

“I didn't do anything.” He replied in an innocent tone, kissing you briefly before pulling away to feed the cat. “I think this kid has been eating cookie dough because he doesn't want to eat his food.”

“He's an unruly kitten, just like his daddy.” You said as you watched Spencer pet him and laugh at your bad joke.

The two of you had officially been together for almost a year, but you had known each other for much longer. A coffee shop tucked away in the middle of town was the best place for an FBI agent and you, a news reporter, to meet and start talking. From the beginning, you knew there was something different about Spencer, and it was much more than the fact that he was the only man in the country who didn't know you because he didn't watch television and therefore the news you had anchored for years. He didn't care that your face was what people saw every day and that put you in the spotlight, he liked you for who you were and how you thought about the world.

“I think they'll be ready in a few minutes.” You reported after putting a tray of cookies in the oven.

You were about to ask your boyfriend where he kept the dishes, but when you turned around, you noticed he was still playing with the cat and you couldn't help but smile at how relaxed he seemed. It had been a good idea to convince him to adopt the animal that always followed you home and peeked out of the fire escape. Nothing made you happier than seeing him happy, so you followed your instincts and noticed that the kitchen was still organized as usual. You may not have lived with Spencer yet, but you spent more time in his apartment than yours and had already memorized how a couple of things worked, though you were afraid to tell him because you knew he had trouble opening up too much and taking such big steps in a relationship so quickly.

All your attention was on picking out the prettiest plates and pots for the cookies when his phone rang over the counter. Your hands were still dirty with flour and dough, so you didn't hand it to him and could only read that it was Penelope before you saw him answer.

“Yes, I'm with her now. We're making cookies, and yes, I'll bring you some. Yes, she says hello to you too.” You listened as Spencer repeated into the phone with an encouraging tone.

You barely listened to his conversation because you were nervous it was about work and that he would have to leave so soon.

“You're out of milk, I'm going to the supermarket downstairs.” You informed him quietly after checking the fridge, not wanting to interrupt his conversation. “I won't be long.” You finished, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips before leaving.

He couldn't help but smile like a fool at the kiss and stopped listening to his friend's voice on the other end of the phone for several seconds.

“The full profile was leaked to the press, along with details about the crime scenes.” Garcia's voice brought her feet back to the ground.

“What? How?” He asked blankly, needing to sit down to process the information. “We were very careful.”

Spencer thought the case was already closed, he had filled out the profile himself, they had everything they needed to make the arrest, and Emily had insisted on giving him the night off for it.

“We don't know, but it was on the evening news.”

Wait, the evening news? They were the ones you presented every day. It was strange that you hadn't mentioned it, since you'd just come home from work a few hours earlier, happy about your raise.

“Which channel was the first? Who gave the scoop?” His voice trembled slightly, as if he was a little afraid of the answer because his mind was telling him something he didn't like.

There was a long silence for a few seconds and his anxiety increased.

“You need to calm down and not jump to conclusions.” Penelope tried to be the voice of reason at the time and sugarcoated things a bit. But he insisted that he wanted to know. “She said so...she broke the news a few hours ago and I think that was the first network to do it.”

His whole world seemed to crumble before his eyes again and everything was a blur amidst the feeling of betrayal and bitterness that gripped his body. Every thread in his mind began to connect in just a few seconds, and for the first time in a long time, he hated having that ability.

“Reid, listen, I don't think it was her. Emily said we'd fix it, but you should know before you watch the news.” She tried to defuse the situation, but his words only made them feel more betrayed. “I forgot to tell you before because I didn't want to ruin anything, you looked so happy.”

Since meeting you, Spencer had watched at least a minute of the evening news every day just to see you, and everyone knew it. Only today he hadn't because he'd been busy trying to finish the damn profile so he could get off early and spend some time with you.

“We don't want you to jump to conclusions, we all know her and I don't think she would do this. Maybe it's a mix-up or...”

“Don't do that, don't try to make me feel better when she's the only one I tell about the cases.”

And about absolutely everything. He always talked to you about his dreams, his deepest fears, his hopes for the future, his worst moments, and even things he never thought to say out loud, even to his therapist. All his life he had felt silenced until you showed up to listen to even the most complex thought and his mental discussion of possible names for the cat you both shared and treated like a son.

Since his release from prison, his view of the world and himself had changed. He no longer felt worthy of love or anything good until you came along and insisted on entering his heart and saving him from the emptiness he faced every time he woke up in that dark, lonely apartment that you came to fill with light and the smell of cookies.

It weighed heavily on his heart that the bad thoughts that always haunted him made sense.

“I'll be there soon.” He finished, not paying attention to the thousand and one possible explanations and theories Penelope had given him so as not to blame you for everything.

He ended the call and walked quickly to the bedroom to find your computer for answers. You had been staying with him for several days and always used it for work, so it was on the nightstand. He was about to turn it on when the sound of the front door startled him and let him know you were back.

“Spencer? Where are you? Do you want to play hide and seek?” Your voice echoed through the apartment, coming closer and closer to the room.

There was no movement or sound from him, just silence, until you entered the room and saw him sitting on the bed with your computer in his hands. You couldn't help but be a little startled by his expression.

“Are you okay, love? You scared me.” You spoke as you approached him and took his hand lovingly. “Do you need to use my computer? It's out of battery, but the charger is in my bag.”

The strange thing was that Spencer didn't return your affectionate squeeze, he didn't even kiss your hand like he always did. He just froze in place and looked at you as if he was waiting for you to confess to a crime.

“Is something wrong?” You sat down in front of him and grabbed his chin to force him to look at you.

He looked at you for a few seconds and clenched his jaw, pulling away from your touch as if it burned him. “You tell me.”

Confusion washed over you and you bit your lip, trying to think of something that could have changed everything so suddenly. For a second you thought that maybe something had happened at Spencer's work and he had to go now, but his expression and his teary eyes said much more than that. Something serious had happened, you even thought it might be his mother and your heart shrank.

“I know what you did.”

You frowned at his words, trying to find some trace of a joke in all this. “What have I done?”

Once again, the room was filled with silence and his piercing gaze. You made a feeble attempt to approach him to give him some comfort as he looked like he was about to cry, but he rejected you and moved further away from you. He got up from the bed, put the computer down and looked at you as if he expected you to be the one to give the explanation.

“I don't understand this, baby. I really don't know.” You got out of bed and tried to get closer to him.

At your action, he backed away from you.

“Don't call me 'baby'. Don't pretend you don't know what you've done.”

The problem was, you didn't know what you'd done to give him that attitude. It had only been a few minutes since you left and everything was fine, so it didn't make sense that he was suddenly angry.

“I should have seen it coming before, how could I not, why would someone like you notice me? You obviously wanted this, you wanted to use me to get that raise and have all the fresh information.” Finally he seemed to react and started to blurt out everything that was on his mind without any filter. “I was an idiot to think you loved me.”

The confusion in your bright eyes only made things worse for him. His defense mechanism told him that you were an actress, that you must have known him well enough to manipulate him for so long and not even flinch. It made all the sense in the world that the whole perfect relationship you had was a sham, because he never understood how you, who had the fame and beauty to be with any man in the world, could have chosen him, a former addict who had spent months in jail and had more trauma than happy memories, to be your partner.

You took a step toward him, trying to process what he had just said. “I do, you know I love you.”

“Come on, you don't have to pretend anymore, I already know that you leaked the information I gave you about the profile.” He said after pacing the room a few times, trying to control his anger. “And maybe how many times you did the same.”

“Wait, you think I'm some kind of spy or something...you're joking, right?” You tried to make sense of his words, wanting to believe again that it was a joke. It had to be, or the pain you felt in your heart at his rejection would definitely kill you.

The silence that followed his words was enough to know that he was serious.

“You're the only person outside the team I talk to about cases all the time. And you magically get a raise when there's a big leak.” His every word was like a knife in your heart, digging deeper and deeper. “You even broke the news a few hours ago, you're unbelievable.”

That was too much, and it was the move that pierced your heart with the knife.

“Do you really think the only way I can get a raise is to betray you? That I've been pretending for almost a year that I love you for my own benefit? Do you really think I can stoop so low and that my job is worth so little?” You asked him almost pleadingly, as if begging him to tell you no, but in vain. “Tell me it's not so, please. Tell me you don't distrust me.”

Silence. Lots of silence.

“Please...”

He said nothing again and that was answer enough for you. You loved Spencer Reid like you'd never loved anyone before, but you weren't going to let this go. You weren't going to keep begging him to believe you when you told the truth and never gave him reason to doubt.

“Fine. I hope you don't have to come back to me when you realize you made a mistake and ended up with the best you had.”

The pained look you gave him and the tears streaming down your cheeks stayed in his mind as you left your apartment keys on the table and walked away, closing the door behind you at the same time as the oven beeped.

His smile could not have been more nonexistent at that moment.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #matthew gray gubler

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osmanthus-wine-addiction · 26 days ago

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18 Evil Twin

Zhongli x Reader / SFW / established relationship / Zhongli has an evil twin and he's a yandere / canon was hijacked again for plot purposes / this was supposed to be sexy, I don't know why he turned out so babygirl, like poor thing just needs a hug and some good loving

"Zhongli…"

The name slid off his tongue like some sort of titillating joke. The velvety quality of his voice and the deep timbre was so eerily familiar, it was hard to imagine that it did not belong to your lover.

"So he's given himself yet another name." The man remarks.

"Who are you?" You ask warily.

Your captor's gaze returned to your face, a curl tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Morax, or if you prefer to call me by the new name, I suppose I can be Zhongli as well."

"You're not him." You dared to point out.

His eyes might be the same striking amber, but something was missing. Perhaps it was the gentleness and affection that always seemed to spill over whenever your lover's gaze falls on you.

At first, you wondered if Zhongli had succumbed to erosion like his old friend Azhdaha. Perhaps he had lost a chunk of his memories. It would explain the jarring differences in his demeanor. However, you simply couldn't accept the possibility of this person being who your lover used to be before you had met him.

Zhongli had always been the kind and patient man you had met all those years ago and even if he had lost his memories of you and held no love for you in his heart, you'd have no trouble falling for him all over again. This only left you with one explanation, the person standing in front of you could not be the same person.

"I'm every bit him as he is me, sweetheart." The imposter chuckles. "But since you find that hard to believe, why don't I make the truth easier for you to swallow?"

The ground beneath your feet began to tremble. Your eyes darted around in apprehension. Once the shaking was over, the two of you were surrounded by a ring of stone pillars. Elemental energy resonated between them, forming a rippling wall. He had just formed a seal, something you had witnessed Zhongli do on multiple occasions.

So this imposter was capable of the things your lover is capable of doing. That does not make him the same person. The more this person revealed about himself, the more uneasy you became. There was now a seal around you and despite making his point already, the pillars were still standing.

"What do you want with me?" You asked.

"What do I want with you…" He mused, as if he himself had no idea what had compelled him to kidnap you and bring you here to this mysterious place.

Amusement glinted in his eyes. He took a step towards you, then another. You had no choice but to back up, right into one of his pillars. With your back pressed up against the pulsating construct, the vibrations rippled through your body with mind-numbing intensity. Your body began to tremble and your knees involuntarily buckled as you struggled to stay standing.

"Don't touch me." You swatted away his hand which had instinctively reached out to steady you.

He places his hand against the pillar behind you instead. Despite the lack of physical contact, his looming presence threatened to crush you like a mountain, an impression your lover never once gave you.

"I appologize for the forwardness. It appears there are certain inclinations I cannot hold back in regards to you."

"Who are you and what do you want with me?" You ignored his apology and demanded answers to the two questions you had been asking ever since he appeared.

"I believe we've already had this conversation, dear. Whichever name you prefer to call me by is irrelevant."

"You're not him!" You shouted as you attempted to push him away.

He caught your hands and pinned them against your body, rendering you immobile with little effort.

"How shall I prove it to you then, hmm?" He hummed, amusement returning to his tone. "The person you call Zhongli, he and I are simply two faces of the same coin. For every moment of unfettered peace he reaps, who do you think pays the unsung price?"

"Let go of me!" You hiss as you struggled against his bruising hold.

"Have you never once questioned why the Geo Archon is immune to karmic debt despite slaying countless gods and bloodying his hands during the Archon war?"

Your eyes widened as the words hit your eardrums.

"Do you not find it unusual how he is able to resist abyssal corruption, despite clearly having encountered it multiple times as recorded in Liyue's past?"

"He must've had his ways…" The sound of your voice fell to a wisp.

"Have you never wondered how he deals with erosion, which indiscriminately affects every living being on Teyvat?"

Once again, you could only succumb to speechlessness.

"How well do you think you actually know your past archon, the god you've been calling Rex Lapis for the last three millenias?"

"I…" You started, but the words wouldn't come to your lips.

"You know nothing of his cruelty, his deceptions, or his hypocrisy and yet you claim to love him." His words bleed into your mind like murky ink as he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. "Everything he does not wish for you to see, he simply siphons off, seals it away so that you may be blissfully ignorant."

You shutter as his breath fans over your skin.

"Everything that he knows, I know." The corner of his lips curl as he says this. "Everything that he feels, I feel too."

You stared at him, blinking so innocently.

"You do not understand." He sighs at your lack of response. "We are one in the same, yet I have been sealed away in this godforsaken place ever since the day he carved me out of him, left here to fester in perpetual solitude. Do you not find that insidious?"

Although his tone did not reflect his bitterness, his words were clearly spoken with the intent to garner sympathy from you. He was no longer sealed, which you were only now beginning to weave into your understanding of the situation you were in. The implications were many and none of them were good.

"So you're lonely?" You raised a brow. "That's why you kidnapped me? Because you need someone to vent to?"

He shook his head, a gentle but unsettling smile playing on his lips. "While I appreciate a good listener, that is not why you're here, dear."

"I'm bait then." You voiced your other suspicion.

His grin widened. "I can see why he fancies you."

"He'll just seal you away again." You said with as much confidence as you could muster.

"Not if I have you in my hands." He reminds you of your place by wrapping his fingers around your neck. "You make quite the lovely hostage."

"I'm just one of his many lovers." You bluffed. "He's not going to fling himself into your trap for me."

"Do not underestimate yourself, darling. He chuckled. "I hear his thoughts. They are inescapable, just as are his emotions. I know exactly how valuable you are to him."

You sucked in a breath. He had a point. Your relationship with the Wangsheng funeral consultant wasn't exactly a secret. His affections could be visible even to a stranger with the way he looks at you and holds your hand every time the two of you take a stroll through the bustling streets. It'd be a lost cause to try and convince him otherwise when Zhongli's thoughts are filled with adoration for you. As soon as you let go of that notion, another alarming one emerged in its place.

If Zhongli was that in love with you, could there be a tiny sliver of a possibility that his evil twin was susceptible to your charms as well? Just now, he couldn't help but reach out and hold you when it looked like you might fall.

"If you and him are so connected, then…" Your eyes rake his face, so reminiscent of the man that you're in love with.

If he says he's every bit as Zhongli as the Zhongli you know, then he can't exactly use you to gain any leverage. Zhongli's weakness would be his as well. You just had to confirm it. How would you go about that?

You gestured for him to lean in closer with a curl of your finger. Surprisingly, he followed your beck. It was almost as if his body was subconsciously accustomed to respond in this manner. You swallowed, still a bit unsure about what you were about to do.

The theory was, if he is affected by Zhongli's feelings for you, then he's pretty much wrapped around your finger. He'd react to you exactly the way his counterpart would if you make a move on him. He might be surprised and flustered because he doesn't see it coming, but once the initial shock fades away, you'll have him eating out of the palm of your hands. In your right mind, you'd never do this to a complete stranger. He was the one who claimed he was the same person as your lover, so naturally, it's his burden to prove it. You were simply conducting an experiment!

Without warning, you pressed your lips against his. As expected, he immediately tried to withdraw out of pure alarm, but as soon as your hand reached up to stroke his face, it was like something inside him recognized your touch. Your fingers threaded through his hair as if you were kissing your lover. He even sighs the way Zhongli does, readily melting into your kiss like his body was responding on its very own, chasing the fleeting intimacy like a beast starved.

A mere few seconds was all you needed to coax this hunger out of him, but once it had surfaced, stuffing it back into him was another matter. You gasped as the kiss took an unexpected turn. His hand cradled the back of your head against the stone pillar behind you as he kissed you back with a fervor you never anticipated. Pent up desire and desperation possessed him. His lips were already against your neck and his hands glided along your waist as he sought further closeness to you. You had thrown yourself at your captor to see if he'd give chase and he didn't disappoint. As indulgent as this experiment was, it had served its purpose.

"I— I believe you now." You panted after pushing him away.

"So you needed a kiss to be convinced that I was telling the truth." He remarked with muted disdain. "I am glad you got the result you seek, however," he paused to catch his breath, "I do not appreciate being subjected to an undisclosed trial."

"What are you going to do once he comes running? Are you going to seal him down here or something? You know, he's retired and is working at a funeral parlor right now. Are you going to go to work in his place?" In order to distract him from the kiss, you could only throw a pile of questions at him.

"I may kill him, but that must've crossed your mind already."

"If you and him are the same person, then it's obviously not going to be that simple."

Your captor narrowed his eyes at you, slightly perturbed that you were taking it so lightly.

"Like you said, you hear his thoughts and feel everything he feels. Can I assume that if he gets hurt, you also bleed?"

"That could be possible."

"You're not denying it, so I'm not far from the truth." You smirked. "It's not that you don't want to kill him. You can't, because you'll die too."

The amusement on his face melted away when you finished speaking. It must be unsettling to him how easily you figured him out, but that was a given. If he was Zhongli, then you also knew him well enough to hear what he was not putting into words. Your lover has always been a long-winded man, but even he clams up once in a while when it comes to information he doesn't wish to disclose. Rather than wring it out of him, you had learned the art of picking up on his subtle cues and body language in order to piece together a vague idea of what he was not telling you. This was how you had gotten him to admit his identity as the supposedly dead Geo Archon. You had gotten so exasperatingly good at peeling back his layers, both metaphorically and literally speaking, Zhongli now hardly has anymore secrets, save for this one standing in front of you.

"You can kill me out of spite, but you won't, because all that pain and grief is just going to get funneled into you. Am I right?"

Instead of yielding to you immediately like your lover so habitually does, this person grins even wider. A trace of unhinged excitement flashes in his eyes.

"Kill you?" He finds the thought entertaining, but abandons it without hesitation. "I would much rather propose a contract to have you imprisoned with me instead."

Your heart leapt in panic. "I'll take death over getting locked up in this hell hole with you."

A hint of genuine sadness rippled underneath his mirth. Being the perceptive person you were, you caught it before it disappeared.

As soon as the contradicting emotions sprouted up inside you, you had to stomp them out. You weren't about to get yourself emotionally attached to your kidnapper and you can't let him manipulate you into taking pity on him. Unfortunately for you, the brief waver in your gaze also didn't escape his eyes.

"It wouldn't be completely unfair as he has me imprisoned for much of my existence." He reminded you.

The distance between you shrunk once again as he leaned in. You already had your back against his pillar, with nowhere to escape, confined in this little play pen comprised of elemental constructs.

"Eleven months in a year."

You made an odd face. Was he trying to negotiate with you?

"I'm not staying with you."

"You can name your terms now or you can be my unwilling companion." He whispered against your ear. "I don't mind keeping you here against your will, as long as it makes losing my mind a little less unbearable."

"So choice is just an illusion?"

"I would prefer you to offer your freedom and company to me as opposed to having no say at all." He smiles.

"In other words, you get what you want either way."

"Precisely." He replied. "Ten months. I can spare you two months to finish whatever unfinished business you have."

You ignored his disingenuous offer. "How exactly will you keep me against my will if Zhongli can just march in here, reseal you, and take me back?"

"He will not take you if you agree to a contract before he gets here." He reminds you. "Must you keep testing my patience in this way?"

"I'll just wait until he gets here." You shrug.

"Nine months." He demands, slight irritation in his tone.

As if to demonstrate his irrefutable mastery over the environment, the ground beneath your feet began to shake again.

"Surely eight months in a year is not too much to ask." He says after your silence.

The entire subspace pulsated with Geo and began to churn as if a giant wheel were being turned in the distance.

"You don't frighten me, if that's what you're trying to do."

After that little test, you were certain that even if he had the power to end your life right here and now, he could never actually pull through with it. This was a beast with all his claws and teeth intact that could not lay a single finger on you.

"Are you truly so unwilling?" He brushes the back of a finger against your cheek.

"It's not like I'll get compensated for the time I'm going to be kept here against my will."

"I did not say you will receive nothing in return." A knowing smile crept into his lips. "You would consider it if I compensated you in some way?"

You should've kept your mouth shut. Now this bastard was onto you like a beast hooked on the scent of fresh blood. You wondered if Zhongli had already discovered your absence. How long would it take for him to find you?

"I'm not for sale." You crossed your arm. "You can haggle all you want, but I'm not selling myself to you."

"Anything can be bought, my dear."

"You don't have anything to offer that I'd want." You retorted. "At least nothing that Zhongli wouldn't be able to give me."

"I loathe the thought of harming you, truly…" The corner of his lips curled ever so slightly. "It's a pity that this affection does not extend to those around you."

"You're resorting to threatening me now?"

"If I must." He grins. The fingernails ghosting over your neck elongated into sharp claws. "Am I finally detecting a sway in your resolution?"

"Once he finds me, you won't have the chance." You huff, trying to keep up an unbothered front.

"Oh, I have quite the time to persuade you, darling. You can rest assured that he will not find you so easily. While I can hear his thoughts, he cannot access my mind. Such is the nature of our bond, so that what I carry on his behalf does not find its way back to him. While he can sense that my seal is broken, it will take him some effort to uncover this location."

Your lips parted in shock as his words dawned on you. This entity in front of you was at one point a part of the man you call Zhongli, your lover. The reason the person you met was such a selfless, considerate, and pleasant presence was because his darker, more troubled side had been literally cut away and sealed off from the rest of Teyvat so aa to not disturb the peaceful harbor he had painstakingly raised along the baron cliffs.

"Those things he'd never do…" The words drifted from your lips as they formed in your mind, slow and unsure. "They don't extend to you, do they?"

"You may consider my very existence an intentional loophole." He supplied.

You swallowed nervously. "What about the contracts he makes?"

He raises a hand to stroke his chin in thought. "I have been sealed away for as long as I could remember. When I had gone to fetch you, it hadn't occurred to me to challenge any of the contracts that he had bound himself to. Perhaps I can slaughter a few of his subjects to see if—"

"No! Absolutely not!" In a fit of panic, you pressed the palm of your hand against his lips to stop the rest of his sentence from spilling out. "You will not be killing any innocent people!"

He chuckled, but the sound was muffled underneath your hands. The warmth of his breath caused your skin to tingle so you quickly removed your hand from his face.

"How exactly do you intend to stop me if you are trapped here?"

A pair of stone cuffs emerged from the stone pillar behind you, molding around your wrists. Another pair wrapped around your ankles, effectively restricting your movements. His question had effectively shut you up as well.

"Precisely. You cannot." He smiled ominously at you.

"Wait!" You shouted after him as he walked off.

He stopped in his tracks, but didn't turn around, waiting for your explanation.

"Did he split you off before or after he became the Geo Archon?"

"After." Came his reply.

"Then that means you're still bound by his contract to protect Liyue. You can't hurt anyone even if you wanted to."

He turned around to face you, walking back at a leisurely pace. Once he was close enough, he reached up to stroke your face, a doting gesture, but it sent shivers up your spine.

"I'm afraid you are misinterpreting what a contract is and what it is not. A contract simply ensures that the party who chooses to dishonor an agreement faces the stipulated repercussions. It does not prevent one from breaching it if they wish to do so."

"Oh." You gave a dejected sigh.

"Not to worry. As long as you give me your word to keep me company for eight months out of the year, I will promise you that no harm shall come to the people of Liyue."

"Eight months is too long."

"Very well, then. Seven months."

"Six."

"I accept your terms. You may back out of this contract now, but this would be your last chance."

"Half a year." You muttered under your breath. "As long as you keep your end of the agreement."

A part of you still hoped Zhongli would barge in at any moment and put an end to this ridiculous hostage situation. Would he really let you be sealed away with his evil twin for six months in a year? You didn't even want to imagine what life would become for you during those six months of involuntary confinement. Was Zhongli really that inflexible when it comes to contracts?

"Why do you even want to keep me here in the first place?" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Why would I not?" He simply laughed.

There was nothing sinister about the sound this time. He looked so harmless, innocent even. For a moment, you could not tell the difference between this individual and the retired archon you so adored.

"You seem rather confused still as to why I have gone out of my way to bring you here, my dearest. To say that I am simply fond of you is putting it lightly…" His tone softened as he neared. He leaned in, brushing his lips against the sensitive rim of your ear.

You drew in a shallow breath as his words simultaneously tickled your mind and your senses.

"There is no need to overthink it. Now that you've agreed to give me your precious time, I promise that your stay would be most fruitful."

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. A tingling sensation bloomed underneath your skin, spreading throughout your body. Suddenly, a chill shot up your spine. Your head was stark clear. You fell forward, right into his waiting arms as the stone cuffs released their hold on your limbs.

With the contract a reality, you were now only able to spend six months of the year with Zhongli. The other half of it, you were bound to his twin. It can't be that bad, since he proved he was just as fond of you as his more level-headed counterpart. How would your lover take the news of having to share you?

#zhongli x reader #zhongli fanfic #zhongli x you #kinktober 2024 #yandere zhongli

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immaturityofthomasastruc · 2 months ago

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IOTA Reviews: Ladybug and Cat Noir: The Movie

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Once again, I'd just like to apologize for the lack of activity the past few months. The holidays have kept me busy, especially at work, and I've officially decided to go back to school next month. Don't get me wrong, one of my new year's resolutions is to at least try getting back to consistently working on this blog, which is one of the reasons why I'm going to tackle She-Ra in the future. Either way, I'd like to thank you for supporting me this past year even though I haven't been as active as I should be.

When I heard Miraculous Ladybug was getting a movie, I didn't really pay too much attention to the news due to all of the side projects that have been canceled left and right, but then I saw the trailer. It looked decent, and while I had issues with the animation, I was willing to give it a shot since Astruc wasn't on the writing team. Then the movie came out, and while it got mixed reviews, this was how a lot of people in the fandom saw it after suffering through Season 5.

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Yeah, a lot of fans hold this movie in high regard. It's nothing as groundbreaking as other animated films that came out the same year like Across the Spider-Verse and Nimona, but for a Miraculous Ladybug project, it turned out pretty well. That is, except for the brief schism it caused in the fandom. While it's mostly subsided, when the movie came out, there was a debate on which handled the story better, the movie or the show. As always, fandom arguments tend to get complicated, and things only got worse when Thomas Astruc himself decided to throw his hat in the ring by claiming that the show he worked on was better.

Yes, even though fans enjoy a movie based on his characters, because he isn't the one who made it, Astruc thinks his version is better. Just remember, he tweeted this about a month after “Derision” premiered. I feel like that speaks for itself.

Thankfully, the argument has died down for the most part, though there's still discussions on which is the better version. Before I really get into the movie, I just want to remind everyone reading this that my opinion shouldn't be taken as fact. I am not the authority on what people should like, and I don't want anyone to use my review as an excuse to bully other people online for having a different opinion on the movie. While I've made jokes about the show's decline in quality, the show and movie both have their own strengths and weaknesses, and we should be able to discuss them.

With all that out of the way, let's get into Ladybug & Cat Noir: The Movie

Just to be clear, I'm not going to tackle this like my usual reviews. Instead, I'm going to break this review into three sections: what I liked, what I didn't like, and what I'm mixed on.

Things I liked

For one thing, the characterization is pulled off very well. None of the characters are really as annoying or incompetent like they were in the show's later seasons. Part of what I think makes it work is that there's more focus on character arcs that have to be completed by the end of the film. Marinette has to learn to step up as a hero, Adrien has to learn humility while dealing with the loss of his mother, and Gabriel struggles to resist the allure of villainy.

Marinette's anxiety is more pronounced in this movie, especially since in this continuity, Chloe is just starting to harass her, so she's not used to this kind of treatment. While Chloe is a minor antagonist in the civilian plotline, the biggest threat to Marinette when she's not Ladybug is her own self-doubt. Her status as an outcast is used to add to Marinette's lack of confidence in herself. The whole reason she even meets Adrien here is because she tried to hide from Chloe in the library, and she was too nervous to really speak up to Adrien. Hell, the first time she transforms into Ladybug, it's only because Tikki forced her to transform.

I like how Marinette's insecurities transition into her origin as Ladybug, where she's put in a situation where she has to take charge and be more confident. She still gets frustrated with her situation and her new partner's ego (more on that in a minute), but she struggles to really get her head in the game at first compared to how things were in “Origins”. It makes her development into the confident hero we're all familiar with feel more natural, as the climax of the movie shows her fully asserting herself as the protector of Paris and a beacon of hope for those to look up to.

Adrien is also handled very well here. As much as I liked “Origins”, I have to admit it didn't really do much with him as a character. With the exception of wasting his first Cataclysm, he just goes about the two-parter like it's another day at the office for him. That's why I'm a huge fan of the movie actually giving him stuff to do. Unlike the show, his arrogance is shown in a more negative light and is shown to be a major character flaw he needs to overcome. Nobody tries to excuse or deny his actions, and he learns how to become a better person.

This is what makes his dynamic with Ladybug so interesting. For their first battle together, he's overconfident and assumes that he's the leader, even though he's just as new at this as Ladybug is. The two trade insults and bicker while fighting their Akuma and even when they meet Master Fu afterwards. While Cat Noir does fall for Ladybug, Marinette still isn't open to it, not because she loves someone else, but more because she finds him to be unbelievably annoying. She doesn't really hate him the same way she does Chloe. It's more like that one coworker you can't stand but have to tolerate regardless.

Both Ladybug and Cat Noir help the other improve as they gain each other's respect. Ladybug gains more confidence in order to keep Cat Noir from bossing her around, while Cat Noir becomes more humble to become a better hero. Eventually, Cat Noir reverses his position and assumes he's the sidekick, only for Ladybug to deny that claim and declare that the two are partners. This statement also reflects how both of them are responsible for saving the day in the end. While Adrien ultimately reaches through to his father, Ladybug saves Adrien and repairs the damage caused by Hawkmoth. Both played a role that was instrumental in the climax, and neither one feels ignored by the narrative.

Another character who really got a much needed revamp is Chloe. Yes, she's still Marinette's primary bully, but it's more downplayed than in later seasons. She stays a challenge exclusive to Marinette's civilian life instead of trying to be a challenge to Ladybug. The closest thing she does to opposing the heroes is kick Cat Noir off a runaway Ferris wheel out of fear, and even then, she gets her comeuppance through Ladybug throwing her in a dumpster while saving her. Chloe is also much smarter than in canon, being able to read the room to mask her emotions and maintain her image or to prey on someone's insecurities if they get in her way. Don't get me wrong, she's still a source of comic relief, but the movie treats her slightly more seriously than canon does.

Speaking of comic relief, here's something that I think made this Chloe better than the one seen in the show: The jokes were actually funny. Yeah, it's not laugh out loud, but I like how rather than make jokes about how immature and stupid Chloe is, her jokes are focused more on her own ego and self-image. Well, that, and wanting to kick Marinette's ass. I'm not making this up. Chloe in this movie threatens Marinette several times, and it's honestly amazing.

She unironically put the fear of God in Marinette's eyes in her first scene alone.

I also like how they handle her role as a love rival to Marinette. Unlike the show, Chloe and Adrien never interact, and it's implied that this continuity won't use the childhood friends element introduced in Season 2. It's a good way to show the difference between her and Marinette, how for all her boasting, Chloe doesn't know Adrien the way Marinette gets to know him.

Gabriel is easily the best part of the movie. This version is more fleshed out compared to the show. Rather than flip-flop between sympathetic and pure evil, the movie leans more on the sympathetic side for Gabriel's character. His very first scene shows the grief he's going through while thinking about Emilie, and Keith Silverstein gets to show off more emotions than just over the top sociopathy. You understand why he chooses to become a supervillain, but you want to see him get better, making for a very somber character. I especially love the delivery of the line where he finally gives in and transforms for the first time.

Gabriel: If chaos is the way, I will burn the world and lose myself in the flames to do so!

That line has no right to go as hard as it does.

We see him descend more into villainy as his appearance becomes more disheveled. Despite claiming to care for his son, the Gabriel and Adrien don't interact until the 70-minute mark. By the time the two do talk, Gabriel looks like a mess compared to how he looked at the beginning.

I really like this writing decision, as it highlights the distant relationship between the two, and how being Hawkmoth has only made things worse for Gabriel. Seeing Gabriel finally realize how unhealthy his coping mechanisms have been when he learns Adrien is Cat Noir is a satisfying scene, as it feels like a natural way to put an end to his arc. Compared to canon where he wins and never really feels bad for what he did, this version of Gabriel is far more remorseful at the sight of his son battered and bruised and breaks down sobbing. Remember, this was the version Astruc said we “wanted” and not the one we “needed”.

As for the Miraculous, things were changed to better fit the story, and I like most of what they did. I like how there's more focus on the teamwork between Ladybug and Cat Noir. Their Miraculous don't just grant a wish when used together. They literally become stronger when the two work together, and it makes a lot of sense. I like how the teamwork aspect is rewarded in-universe, because it shows how the heroes can do more than create and destroy stuff. I also think the addition of a call function on their Miraculous makes perfect sense, and clears up a ton of potential communication errors.

The fight scenes are also pretty creative. There's a lot of focus on using the environment to fight the Akumas. The very first fight has Ladybug and Cat Noir defeat the Akuma by letting a train hit it, and the second major fight involves a Ferris wheel going out of control. This leads to more varied action and well choreographed fight scenes. I especially like how with the exception of the Mime (and a brief reference to the Bubbler and Guitar Villain), all of the Akumas are brand-new, so older fans don't know what to expect with these guys.

This level of action also extends to the climax. Hawkmoth uses an Akuma on himself, sending out a massive flock of butterflies. You'd think it'd be like this movie's take on “Heroes' Day”, right? Nope! Instead, the Akumas become tiny attack drones that swarm over Paris like the eight plague of Egypt. I don't know how the animators managed to make an army of purple butterflies menacing, but by God, they did it.

Speaking of animators, my thoughts on the animation have changed drastically. While I still have minor gripes with the character design, I still love how the city of Paris is brought to life, making it seem more populated than in the show. I never really held the limited amount of civilians against the animators in the show, but I'm so happy we can see this show's environment on a cinematic budget. The animation is another reason why I think the action works so well in this movie.

Things I didn't like

When it comes to the changes to the Miraculous, one thing I'm not a fan of is Ladybug not getting her Lucky Charm. It misses the point of her having the power of creation. Yeah, she still has the spotted vision thing she had in the show, but it takes away what made the way she defeats Akumas interesting. She doesn't just beat them into submission. Sometimes, she outsmarts them or reasons with them, and part of the fun with the Lucky Charm is seeing just how she'll use something like a coat hanger or an old football trophy to defeat them.

I also don't like this movie's take on the Butterfly Miraculous. The very first scene has Master Fu build it up as an evil artifact capable of turning people into monsters. Remember, “Origins” established the Butterfly as something capable of creating superheroes, a power Gabriel twisted to create villains instead. Hell, I hate this rule, but the Paris Special made it clear that Miraculous can be used for good or evil, and it all depends on how the power is used. In other words, Miraculous don't kill people, people kill people. Bottom line, I prefer the idea of the Butterfly being the same as the other Miraculous, with the user and intent making it evil.

The one character who I felt the movie absolutely misrepresented was Plagg. This version of the character has none of the heart he had in the show. Yes, Plagg was crass there too, but he had just as many scenes showing how he cared for Adrien like a little brother or a nephew. He was Adrien's primary confidant and wanted to help him however he could. Even bad Plagg-centric episodes like “Kuro Neko” or “The Kwamis' Choice” made it clear he wants what's best for Adrien and is capable of coming up with plans if they'll help him.

Here, Plagg is mostly just there to make snide comments and fart a lot. Say what you will about the show, but at least it didn't make Plagg farting into a running gag. Plagg only gets a handful of lines in the entire movie, to the point where even Tom has more lines than he does. Tikki gets plenty of scenes with Marinette and an entire song, while Plagg feels like an afterthought.

Things I'm mixed on

This might be a little controversial, but I have mixed feelings on the portrayal of the Love Square as a whole in this movie. Don't get me wrong, the Ladynoir scenes are great, but there's not as many Adrienette, Ladrien, or Marichat scenes. In fact, I don't think there were any Ladrien or Marichat scenes in this movie, which is weird. I can at least excuse those, but it's weird how little Adrienette scenes there are. Not counting the masks, they only have four major scenes together before the end, and one of those is a deleted scene that had the dialogue cut over a montage.

While I'm glad the entire movie wasn't about the Love Square drama, the romance between Marinette and Adrien specifically feels a little rushed. I think it would have benefited the movie to have ten or fifteen more minutes to flesh out this subplot a little instead of only focusing on Ladynoir.

I'm also unsure what to say about the songs. Most of them are pretty catchy and have great visuals, but the dissonance between the singing voices of Marinette and Adrien throws me off. I don't get why neither actor for the French or English dub was asked to sing. For some reason, Tikki and Gabriel's voice actors got to sing, but not Marinette and Adrien. At the very least, Drew Ryan Scott's singing voice sort of sounds like Adrien, but Lou's singing voice makes Marinette sound twice her age. Don't get me wrong, I still liked the songs, but this choice was very jarring to me.

And now, because literally nobody asked for it, here's every song in the movie ranked.

8. If I Believed in Me

A very dull “I want” song that's just Marinette wandering around Paris on the way to school. Compared to “Little Town” from Beauty and the Beast, where you can easily follow Belle and understand how she goes about her day, it's not clear what kind of route Marinette is taking. Even the lyrics are pretty bland, just talking about wanting to follow her dreams and be more confident. The issue is that her dreams of being a fashion designer barely factor into the plot, and she only becomes more confident thanks to being a superhero, something she didn't dream of. The only real dud in the soundtrack.

7. Opening Remix

Not much to say here. It's a remix of the opening theme with the new singers. It sounds nice.

6. Reaching Out

This is a much better song than “If I Believed in Me”. It does a great job expressing Marinette's doubt and how she feels pressured to be somebody she's not. Great way to follow up on her heart getting broken by Adrien.

5. My Lady

This one's a quickie, but it's still fun. I love the visuals in this one and how it gradually crescendos, reflecting the new feelings Cat Noir has for Ladybug developing.

4. Stronger Together

Surprisingly, Ladybug and Cat Noir's only duet in the movie, but it's still really good. I love the use of the set in the theater Cat Noir took Ladybug to at the beginning before they run around Paris. The lyrics do a great job showing how far the two's relationship has come, making it clear how close they are, only for reality to metaphorically kick them out of the sky.

3. You Are Ladybug

Another duet, this time between Marinette and Tikki. While I still think Cristina Vee should have gotten to sing this one song given her chemistry with Mela Lee, Lou still does a great job expressing her anxiety. The back and forth between Tikki and Marinette makes this a blast to watch, especially with it using the same music as the theme song. Even the rap part with Tikki was fun to watch. I especially love the part where Tikki excitedly tells Marinette about how dangerous the job is and how close she'll come to getting killed.

2. Chaos Will Reign Today

The villain song in this movie had no right to be as good as it is. The visuals are eerie and fit the more menacing tone of the song. Keith Silverstein gives his all to make up for his crime of singing the Hawkmoth Rap. It's also a hell of a lot better than the villain song Disney had to offer that year.

1. Courage in Me

Easily my favorite song in the movie. The visuals of Marinette struggling to hop across these black spots symbolizing her yo-yo before her transformation into Ladybug is awe-inspiring. The lyrics are a great way to solidify Marinette embracing her role as Ladybug, and it's such a triumphant song to listen to.

Other things I noticed

During the first Akuma fight, Ladybug and Cat Noir pass by some guys with stereotypical French accents while almost every other character speaks like they're in America.

Careless Whisper plays one time in Cat Noir's mind as he develops feelings for Ladybug. The fact that he listens to it after getting his heart broken has to be one of the most subtle jokes I've ever seen in this franchise. Of course, it's clear what the best superhero cover of Careless Whisper really is.

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Cat Noir says he has the power of destruction in his introduction while being impressed when Master Fu says the same thing.

There's a Volkswagon tie-in that actually features the two heroes promoting some cars in-universe. This is a real shot from the movie.

I think Chloe ships Alyanette, judging from this exchange:

Marinette: Seriously, Alya, you think Adrien would say yes?

Alya: Of course! I'm gonna ask Nino.

Chloe: I think you should go together, 'cause Adrien is coming with me, not with some baker girl.

I don't think Ladybug ever learned Cat Noir could play the piano, so seeing Cat Noir try to woo her with a little piano number is a nice inclusion.

When Cat Noir's mask is destroyed in the final battle, his exposed eye is still green. Was this where the chibi shorts got the idea from?

Other people have pointed this out, but the picture of Adrien as a kid is traced from a character from The Boss Baby. That's an automatic ten point deduction for making me remember that movie exists.

The post-credits scene with Nathalie was weird.

Did Master Fu not know he lost the Peacock Miraculous too?

Why isn't Emilie in any form of suspended animation?

Is the Peacock still damaged?

Did the Peacock still kill her/send her into a coma?

Was Adrien still created by the Peacock?

Why didn't Gabriel use the Peacock or at least consider it?

Did Gabriel forget to tell anyone about the other Miraculous he has after turning himself in?

Why did Gabriel choose to tell Nathalie when she didn't seem to help him while he was still Hawkmoth?

Final Thoughts

Overall, this was a really good movie, and a fresh take on the show's universe. I had issues with it, but I still think this movie series has promise. The animation was great, the songs were catchy, and the characterization was on point for the most part. It even manages to be a better musical than the ones big names like Disney and Warner Bros have made in the past two years. It's one of the best things to come out of the franchise, no question. I wouldn't mind future installments set in this continuity over whatever Season 6 churns out.

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shnoob · 3 months ago

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Sal Fisher x GN! Reader

A/N: Hey everybody! Warning this is my first fan-fic writing soooo. If you have any requests, feel free to ask in “Suggestions!” Also, the quote used below is from the TV show “Dexter”.

CW: Angst but turns into fluff <3. Also warning quality gets bad at the end.

Word Count: 0.8K

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You and Sal have been dating for quite awhile. Ever since meeting in high school by Larry, you two have been inseparable. Even when Sal thought by introducing you to the ghosts you’d run away, or seeing his face for the first time you’d find him a “disgrace” or “disgusting”. What he wasn't aware of is that none of that ever mattered to you, nor ever will. Although you’ve reassured many times before this wasn’t the truth, insecurities can take over.

And so tonight when you looked down on your phone, expecting a sweet text from your boyfriend saying goodnight, instead your eyes wandered on a message of goodbye. Although not in exact words, the true meaning behind: “We should talk.” is always a blinded way being one foot deep into your grave.

Tonight, expecting to put on your favorite mix-tape while getting ready for bed, dreaming of all the ventures you’d go on with Sal, instead you got the wind trying to push you back as you race through the empty streets of Nockfell as it's trying to tell you to go away. Turn back. But you know you never will, not on him. If it wasn't for the wind, it was the solemn look on Larry's face when you knocked on the door of the house the boys shared, staring at you trying to muster up an excuse for being outside so late. “Y/N, I know.”. Is all the tall man said, leaning on the door frame with the moonlight shining on his body. “I really don’t think he wants to see you r-”. “Larry please.”. Trying to push you back out of the house, it was no use as you turned your body away from the scrawny arms and raced up the steps as quietly as you could.

“..Sal?”

You know he’s in there. The soft plucks of guitar strings, tapping of his foot, and the purrs from Gizmo disturbed as Sal lifts his hand rubbing him due your sudden appearance. “Sal, I know you are in there. Just..please, let’s talk?”. It feels like an eternity passes by waiting for a response from the blue-haired boy. Standing there. Waiting. Lets talk, we should talk. Shuffling comes from behind the door, hearing the weight lean into the planks as the creeks come closer.

“..Let's talk.”

That's when you saw it. It wasn't anger, disgust, or rejection painted on your boyfriend's face. It was tears. Sadness. A moment of vulnerability. Once from gripping onto the doorknob, it was the shoulders of your boyfriend who now was shaking from underneath you. The noises of sobbing filled your ears as you rubbed his back, rocking back and forth where you stood. “I'm so sorry..” He cried, choking on his words as you felt your sides gripped under his grasp. “You have nothing to apologize for..cmon lets get inside the room, yeah?”. Ushering Sal inside, you managed to get him to his bed despite the lack of light. Neither of you said a word, just staring into the abyss of darkness as you waited for the bluenette to calm down with small “Shushes” and “It's going to be alright.”. Overtime, his breathing from once a rigid pace slows against your hand, squeezing it tight as he swallows. “I’m, so sorry.”. “Dear, don’t-”. “No, seriously. I’m so sorry.”. A familiar touch grabs onto the sides of your face, staring into the orbs of the man you love so dearly. Well, one. “Y/N I..I was thinking. You know everything about my face, my past..my mother.” He whispers the last part, briefly looking off to the side before cutting you off. “I know I don't need to talk about it, but you deserve to know. I’ve always felt like this was how things were meant to be, that I deserved this. From what happened to me to the Addison Apartments, all of it has felt like a path that has been engraved for me. So I never stopped to think that maybe this doesn't apply to everybody; that people don't always get what they deserve..”

“If what you deserve is a white picket fence, and your kids all around, and a husband who loves you. What if the least you deserve is a real human being, and what you get is me?”

Your breath hicks at his last words. “You deserve so much more than this—me. I mean look at me-feel me.”. Moving your hands to his, he guides you up and down his scarred face. “Do you feel this Y/N? This isn't what a boyfr-”. Feeling your lips onto his, a small smile forms onto his face as he grabs you in deeper. “You’re right.” Once you finally break apart, leaving only the spaces for your nose keeping you apart.

“This is my husband, and I love him dearly. White picket fence and all.”

#sally face headcanons #sal fisher #sally face fanart #sallyface #sally face #sal fisher x y/n #sal fisher x you #sal fisher x reader #sally face fandom #salfisher #larry johnson #ashley campbell #travis phelps #writing blog #female writers #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writing #shnoob

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shesjustanothergeek · 5 months ago

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The Gods We Can Touch Chapter Seven: Ending Anew

|Aemond Targaryen x Strong!Reader|

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: Thank you for your patience and understanding with the uploads. I've been working six days a week and have only one day to myself where I can do basic necessities like wash clothes and clean. My bedroom has certainly paid for it and so has my hobbies. (Or lack there of) I hope y'all enjoy this seeing young adult Aemond and reader! (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

Chapter Warnings: sexual harassment, dubious consent, bastardphobia, implied mental illness, lots of sexism.

The distinction between those we love and those we hate can be subtle. Both emotions are directed towards an individual based on their inherent qualities. Despite this commonality, they are often perceived as opposites. Loving someone entails wanting them to thrive while hating someone involves wishing for their suffering or transformation. However, love and hate can coexist despite their seemingly contradictory nature.

Six years ago, you experienced deep affection for an individual during your youth, believing that their sun-kissed hands epitomized kindness. However, after enduring years of distress, you discovered the unexpected capability to harbor animosity towards this once beloved person. This realization perplexed you as you contemplated whether he endured similar inner turmoil.

You hated Uncle Aemond for hurting your brothers the night at Driftmark many years ago and for not responding to your countless ravens who sought to apologize and keep broken promises. But because of the love that never ceased beating in your heart, you continued to create reasons for yourself to loathe him. Despite realizing your uncle would never respond, you still sent him letters with the blind hope that someday you would have one addressed from King’s Landing, though if one ever did come, they were from Queen Alicent, and in which you promptly fed them to the fish-eyed billy goats on Dragonstone.

The contents were of anything and everything you could think of. Sometimes, you retold important events like leaving to study at the Citadel and becoming a lady of Queen Esabella of Dorne as a temporary peace bargain for what happened in the Stepstones. Other times, it was your interests, such as a new plant or a medical technique, that you learned and thought would help him with his… ailment.

Though you heard nothing from Aemond, that did not mean you knew nothing about him. You heard rumors that he took to putting a sapphire in his empty eye socket, and while the idea was sure to inspire fear in the hearts of many, it fascinated you, wondering if the gem was smooth and round or jagged and sharp, much like your uncle’s personality. It seemed like him to fashion something such as that as he was always a bit odd, though you never minded it. You imagined the discomfort his wound might cause despite it becoming scarred. From what you understood about those with similar injuries, the person could feel the severed nerves and tissue healing themselves, the sensation like a thousand hot needles in the skin.

It was no wonder why he was gossiped to have such a cold demeanor. You hoped one day you would be allowed to see it yourself, even if you were on the receiving end.

Some of you worried that Aemond never received your letters, thinking you abandoned him and all the promises made in secrecy. Queen Alicent wouldn’t be the one to bar them from him as she most desperately wanted you to visit the Red Keep and mend the bond broken on the night at Driftmark. You didn’t understand why it had to be you to be the one to do so. These were matters created by the ruling adults in your life, and they should have sought to fix them.

Nevertheless, neither you, your parents, nor Queen Alicent tried to mend what occurred between the family. Still, that lack of effort did not extend to your relationship with your uncle. You still wanted to fly with him as you promised some years ago.

“The Conqueror and his sisters sailed with a great army,” Jacaerys translated from High Valyrian, his words proud but still holding a certain waver to his voice now that you weren’t there to assist him.

You stood by one of the tall metal-paned windows in the Chamber of the Painted Table in Dragonstone, the ancient seat of your family, silently mouthing the words of your ancestors’ histories spoken by the Maester in your mother tongue.

The thick, gray clouds outside cast a dull light into the room, creating a somber yet peaceful atmosphere. You and your brother understood that your imposing maternal presence made him nervous and hindered his concentration. Over the years, you developed the habit of speaking over Jace during your studies.

This hadn’t gone unnoticed, leading to reprimands from Maester Gerardys and your mother for not giving your twin a fair chance to learn. You only wished for Jace to be the best version of himself he could be. He was to be your King when Mother passed.

“Se Blākuata Rāsho drāñot vilinio viartis,” (And made landfall at the mouth of the Blackwater Rush) Maester Gerardys conveyed, his words slowed and accent thick to convey their meaning.

The resounding echo of the chamber doors opening filled the air with the unmistakable clang of metal. As they parted, a graceful figure emerged—your mother, adorned in a flowing, vibrant red dress that complemented her regal presence. She moved with a poised and graceful stride, her hand tenderly skimming over her gently swelling belly, radiating an undeniable sense of maternal warmth and affection. Catching your gaze, you offered her a tender smile, and in response, she bestowed upon you a fleeting yet soft expression that spoke volumes of her boundless love without the need for words.

“Drāñot,” your mother asked Jace to repeat, but he stared at her wide-eyed, the words slipping from his mind.

Meeting your mother’s strides to greet her, you answered for him with a bright and eager-to-please smile. “The mouth.”

She flashed a tight-lipped grin and scrunched her nose, lightly nodding as Jace slouched in self-directed disappointment. “Mouth! I knew that, sister. You needn’t answer for me,” he expressed with disappointment, stomping his foot on the ground.

“If you keep speaking for your brother, he will never learn,” your mother lightheartedly scolded as she kissed the top of your head. You have heard those words for the past six years.

If Jace knew the answers, you wouldn’t have to help him, you thought reproachfully.

You did not rush to pay attention to your twin as you knelt beside your younger brothers Aegon, Viserys, and Joffrey. Instead, you focused on the youngest, Viserys. With great tenderness, you gathered him into your lap, the book Elinda brought for them cradled in your hands.

Leaning in close to your half-brother, you whispered. “I will teach you our mother tongue once you learn to speak,” as you lovingly smoothed the silky strands of his blonde hair.

“Drāñot. Drāñot,” your brother repeated, as if the meaning of Maester Gerardys’ words would magically appear in his mind.

“And made landing at the mouth of the Blackwater Rush,” you whispered under your breath so no one would hear, answering for him.

You and Jace were the same age, two bodies with one soul, yet different. You could have helped him more if Mother had not sent you away. You never understood why she separated you instead of betrothing you to Jace. She constantly danced around the notion of marrying for years, which was incomprehensible, seeing as the match was the only option that would make sense. You would rule together, and the realm wouldn’t have the same unrest they did with your mother.

“Perhaps that is enough for today,” your mother offered as Jace became increasingly frustrated with his inability to master High Valyrian.

“No!” He exclaimed ardently, holding his arm as if to stop the suggestion physically. “I-I want to keep going.”

You smirked and flipped the page in the picture book you showed Viserys as he babbled nonsensically, his tiny fists grasping the bound leather. As you touched his plump cheek, he smelled like tallow and lavender.

Your mother allowed Jace to proceed with the bob of her head as Maester Gerardys began again. “Guēsi ropakakson Āegon ūndas.”

“Aegon gave orders for the trees to be felled,” you responded as if the question was directed toward you. Your mother quickly snapped her violet eyes in warning. You were used to that look and continued to tend to the babe like nothing happened, as Jace answered with stutters.

“Aegon… ordered that the trees should be… killed,” he stated proudly. You released a puff of air through your nose that sounded like a laugh as Viserys took the tome with tiny, curious, grabby hands.

“Felled. ‘Tis a related word,” your mother gently corrected as she clasped her hands behind her sturdy back. “I don’t expect you to learn High Valyrian in a day, Jace.”

“A king should honor the traditions of his forebears,” your brother steadfastly declared as you turned with your brows raised, spine cracking.

“That sounds like something your sister would say,” your mother expressed with a slight tightness in her tone. Pursing your lips with guilt, you returned to Viserys, acting as if you weren’t paying attention.

That was precisely what you said to him before your lessons today.

“Unless you plan to depose your mother, you have plenty of time to study,” she teased with a grin like she always did, her happiness becoming contagious as you returned the look over your shoulder. Jace did not share the same enthusiasm as the chamber doors opened again, revealing that of your stepfather strolling down the steps.

You looked to Daemon grimly as he met your mother with a grave expression on his time-worn visage. She declared that you all leave the room as he entered without looking further at you and your siblings. Jace called the young Joffrey to follow him, and you and your mother’s lady took Aegon and Viserys. As you passed your stepfather, he brought his hand out, noiselessly ordering you to stop while handing your mother the sealed letter in his fingers. He traced a calloused knuckle over his son’s cheek and placed a kiss on his crown, purple orbs piercing your dark ones.

He knew of your distaste for him ever since he wed Rhaenyra mere days after your father’s death, refusing to leave your rooms unless necessary. While you never felt like the Velaryon side of your family liked you, they agreed with the unspoken sentiment that Daemon had something to do with your father’s death. You disagreed with the idea that your mother did. She loved your father in her way and, in your mind, wasn’t capable of plotting the murder of her children’s father.

You didn’t outright disrespect Daemon; after all, he was still a prince, but he would never be someone you looked up to or went to in times of strife. He would never be your father, not even as he irritatingly called you daughter and played with the new pearl and sapphire necklace your mother forced you to wear today—a gift from your stepfather.

You understood Daemon only did these things to irk you, refusing to play with the ruse like usual. With no sentences exchanged between you, the Rouge Prince sent you on your way with his offspring wrapped securely in your arms.

“Another raven from Dragonstone, Your Highness,” a Steward announced, holding a rolled piece of parchment sealed with a delicate blue ribbon.

The One-Eyed Prince sat in a green armchair by the hearth, seemingly unbothered, his lithe form in thought and leg crossed over the other. He did not move. His violet eye trained on the flickering orange and blue flames. No words of acknowledgment were said, and the servant placed the letter on the Prince’s foot table as he took a long sip from his goblet in hand.

You were always stubbornly loyal to whoever you cared for, and he thought it rather pathetic, especially when you still sought contact from him after you were met with uncaring silence.

On more than one occasion, his mother attempted to uncover what you said to him, Aemond discovering her rummaging through his writing desk drawers. He met her with an anger he had never felt before, as if she had stolen his most prized jewels.

The Prince told himself that he didn’t care if passersby discovered them. They were inconsequential items containing meaningless ink, and he thought they were a waste of paper until she almost found them. Although he loved his mother dearly, this was something that was Aemond’s, untainted by neither her nor his grandfather’s fingers.

He spent many hours pouring over the subjects you wrote as he battled with the urge to burn your writings, yet desiring to fly to Dragonstone atop the Mighty Vhagar and ensure the oaths you declared in the refined loops of your High Valyrian were indeed true. Aemond never did, only having gotten as close to Driftmark and spotted the glinting silver roof of High Tide before the suffocating feeling inside his chest took hold.

Blood, screams, and horror on your face as he clung to your chest before you crushed the childish hope of being different from the rest of them.

As the Prince grew, he found solace in places he never did before, frequenting the Keep’s gardens and Godswood with Helaena when he wasn’t on the training grounds. He was never fond of the outdoors, preferring the company of a good book curled next to a simmering fire, but he discovered that spending time in those areas brought a sense of contentment, though he was uncertain as to why.

Taking one last sip of his wine, Aemond sat his silver goblet and replaced it with the rolled parchment, licking the sticky remnants away from his lips as he untied the soft satin ribbon.

“Uncle Aemond, I hope this finds you in good health and spirits, as I cannot say the same for myself while writing this. I have overcome a recent bout of melancholia, as Maester Gerardys calls it, and now I’ve heard that Lord Corlys was gravely wounded during an ambush in the Stepstones. Insultingly, Ser Vaemond Velaryon has petitioned the Crown to declare him my Grandsire’s successor upon his passing. This infuriates me to no end. I know if my father were still alive, he would have protected him with his life, and we wouldn’t be having such a discussion. My younger brother will be the next Lord of the Tides since our father is gone. While we may disagree on specific lines of heritage, Luke is my father’s son, and I am his daughter. I find it ironic, however, that a place that haunts him, and you, he will now have to preside over. He shall be forever reminded of the great misdeed he infringed upon you, and I do find a sort of justice in it, but I would never dare to voice such a thing aloud. Luke is my brother, after all. I love him with all my being, but a part of me will never forgive him for what he did to you. I’m sure you feel the same. Mother said we would attend the petition to affirm my brother’s long-decided succession, but we both know the actual cause behind this. I do not enjoy discussing these matters. It boils my dragon blood whenever the false rumors surrounding my birth are brought up. Laenor Velaryon is my father and loved me as such. ‘Tis a fact that will never change no matter what lickspittles and gossipers claim. Oddly, despite its negative connotation and history, I eagerly await my arrival at the Red Keep. Do not think I am forgetful of you. You would not believe me if you knew how often you are in my heart and mind. I hope to see you in good health and that my recommendations for your eye, which I’ve mentioned in previous correspondence, have proven useful. Until we meet.”

Aemond did not know whether to throw your letter into the smoldering fire and watch the flames engulf the tan pages or to rip it into a dozen tiny pieces. He hated you. He loathed you with his entire being as he dangled the parchment over the orange and yellow embers, yet he could not will the rage in his heart to drop it as the heat burned his fist. Aemond welcomed the discomfort, the pain. He grew accustomed to and welcomed it until he felt the water beneath his flesh bubble.

You were no more than a dirty bastard, a daughter of a whore, yet you flaunted riches like a Targaryen princess, unbefitting of your actual status. Aemond did not want to see you ever again, lest it be you groveling on your knees for his forgiveness. It was you who broke the vows and betrayed him, choosing your filthy, Strong brothers over him. He would never forgive you, though seeing you knelt before him as your pretty tears decorated your plump cheeks would be a lovely sight. The Prince felt his cock impulsively swell at the image.

He abhorred you, yet Aemond meticulously placed your letter amidst a collection of others in an exquisitely crafted wooden lockbox adorned with intricate carvings of dragons. As he savored a deep gulp of wine, his gaze fixated on the flickering light evoked by your memories. It brought to mind the recollection of your unique grace, a quality that remained unmatched despite the countless attempts made by him and Aegon to find women of similar allure. The sharpness of his eldest brother’s words and the acrid scent of his breath lingered in his memory as Aegon leaned in on his thirteenth nameday.

“Worry not, brother. We’ll find one that looks like her for you. Time to get it wet.”

Without hesitating, he flung his drink into the fire, extinguishing its voracious flames.

The ground was cold beneath your fingers despite wearing gloves as you pruned the small plot in Aegon’s Garden. Budding crocus dotted the moist area with tiny bursts of purple petals and green stems, withstanding the late winter season. Spring was a moon away, but winter refused to release its clutch on the land, leaving the dirt to keep the frigid dampness that few things could grow in.

Aegon’s Garden was where you found yourself in strife, seeking peace and distraction in your passion. Now, with your mother’s nerves upon hearing that Ser Vaemond Velaryon decided to challenge the line of succession to the Driftwood throne, you felt the heavy burden of the future on your hunched shoulders. You felt bad about the whole situation, from your Grandsire Lord Corlys’s serious injury to the unspoken notion that Vaemond bringing this petition to the Crown was that Lucerys, and by extension, you and Jacaerys were illegitimate. The truth did not matter, not really. It was what those believed or those in power seats told those to think, and it was that you, Jace, Luke, and Joffrey were the offspring of Laenor Velaryon and Rhaenyra Targaryen.

As the King declared, you were next in line to the throne after your mother and Luke for Lord of the Tides after your Grandsire. His word was law, but it was no longer that of a King who sat on the throne but a Queen.

“You should be readying for the journey, Princess. Your mother wants to leave at first light,” Edwina, your most loyal lady, stated. She stood with her broad shoulders squared, hair tucked underneath her white maid’s cap, and hands clasped behind her back. Though she was barely a few years your senior, she acted as if she had decades.

You sighed, rolling your dark eyes in annoyance and sitting on your haunches. You supposed Edwina’s mothering was not unfounded, as your impulsiveness tended to lead you into regret. “I will not be joining my mother and Daemon on the ship. ’Tis much faster on dragon back,” you quipped.

“The Princess wants you all to arrive together,” your lady expressed, taking a few steps closer to show her seriousness.

“To show a united front. Yes, I know Edwina. I could not go,” you teased, smirking, removing your leather gloves finger by finger. “I have no love for the Red Keep, my extended family, or them for me.”

Edwina knew that was a lie. It was evident how she saw you pour over letters addressed to King’s Landing. The maid knew not who the intended recipient was, but there was someone who held a secret place in your heart. The Karstark often wondered if it was Aegon, seeing as a betrothal was whispered in the past, though that idea was quickly squashed after you had an uncharacteristic fit when she voiced it.

“I understand, Your Highness, but duty is sacrifice. Those of your standing must do things in service to your House and family that are against your wants. I do not envy that,” Edwina offered with a half smile of pity as the pair of you entered the benevolent brimstone walls of Dragonstone.

In response, you hummed, linking her strong arm in yours and lowering your head with a look mirrored hers. “This a small price to pay to live a life of privilege.”

The lady nodded in acquiescence as pictures of the poor folk in line for their food rations showed in your mind. Your travels gave you a perspective that your family did not have, forcing you to confront privileges you were unaware existed until they were thrown into your face. You held a sinking feeling inside when you thought of it for days after, guilt gnawing at your heart every time you were draped in lavish dresses of Velaryon blue and adorned with lavish jewels. It sparked you to grow your plot in Aegon’s Garden when you finally returned home and give to those less fortunate despite the odd looks your family gave you.

A similar heavy, sinking weight inside your gut returned as you thought of going to the Red Keep, seeing your uncles and Queen Alicent after what happened at Driftmark. Your guilt and shame felt as prominent as if you were the one who sliced into Aemond’s eye. You tried to reason that he deserved some form of punishment for hurting Baela, Rhaena, and your brothers, but it never worked. Your conscience was too steadfast to allow lies like that to blind you.

Your mother planned on staying in the Red Keep for a night to spend time with her father and to renew her place at court. There was no joy in your heart to learn of her plans as you chose what dresses and jewelry to wear before supper. Though King’s Landing was once your home, it no longer held the wonderous warmth that came with a place of rest. Childhood memories spent there did not come with a smile when you thought of them. Instead, misery came to mind with lingering stares from adults and Aegon and Aeomnd’s relentless teasing regarding your birth.

The cold, briny halls of Dragonstone were your home. Everyone loved you and your kin here, and there was no whispering behind silk fans wherever you went. The only gossip was if you would become with child before or after Princess Rhaenyra betrothed you and Jacaerys.

After you supped with your brothers, mother, and Daemon at night, you lay within thick furs that threatened to let the frigid midnight air in. When you woke to leave, the ground would dust with the crystalline covering of frost, and you knew how Gaeli despised the cold. He would fly at your command regardless, but you would undoubtedly feel his displeasure until he resided in the heat of the Dragonpit.

This petition felt like a dark cloud looming in the distance of a clear sky, promising its threat of a storm as you soared over Blackwater Bay. Despite your mother’s insistence that you ride on the ship with her because of her pregnancy, you choose to take Gaelithox across the water. In turn, that caused your brothers to want to take their dragons to King’s Landing and leave your mother to make the journey with only the comfort of her husband, which you were sure she didn’t mind.

It was customary for the family to make an entrance together and be greeted by the host’s kin, but when you emerged from the wheelhouse that took you from the Dragonpit, its dark caverns still the same, you were greeted by only guards. The lack of forethought and the apparent insult of the Green’s absence sent an icy feeling into your gut, causing you to itch at the skin beneath your black dress.

The gown was not your typical style choice, as it was your Velaryon blue and pearls, but your mother wanted you to wear one of your garments fashioned in the Targaryen colors of black and red with a golden linked belt and rubies to match. She planned to present a united front before the Court and the Greens and, without it said, further solidify her and your siblings’ legitimacy to the throne.

As you stepped out of the carriage with an encouraging inhale, Jace, Luke, and Joffrey, along with the nursemaids carrying Aegon and Viserys, followed after a chill running through the air. You brought your fur-lined cloak closer to your goose flesh arms, shuddering as you observed the Red Keep in all its grandeur. It was as big as you remembered, looking at the tall pale red stone towers, windows, and colliers. You felt small, the unmistakable burn of tears under your eyelids, your nose beginning to run as memories from six years ago flashed inside your mind’s eye.

Luke and Jace came to stand behind you, taking note of your trembling lip and pink cheeks. The youngest of the two was filled with the same anxiety as you and quickly took his hand in yours—a united front. They did not know why you were shaking in your riding boots, squeezing Luke’s fist for comfort as Lord Caswell led your family inside the front gates.

While the red and black banners of House Targaryen were raised on the Keep’s walls, it seemed to be House Hightower that occupied the castle. The Seven-Pointed Star was everywhere you looked throughout the halls that once were Harold with the tapestries of flying dragons, riders bounding with their mounts, now those of the Seven, holy pictures of the Crone and her guiding light, the Maiden with her pure, ethereal beauty, and others of religious importance.

It reminded you of your time in the Citadel in Oldtown, the ancient seat of House Hightower, who aligned themselves closely with the Faith of the Seven. Your family’s relationship with the Septons and Septas was strife until the late King Maegor ruthlessly crushed the Faith Militant Uprising. However, during your stay, you heard whispers from passing Lords and Ladies that the animosity supposedly vanquished long ago was still there, simmering below their fear of House Targaryen and their dragons.

While the Seven did offer you something to soothe your soul in times of unease and explain unanswered things, it didn’t provide you consolation seeing it paraded around grotesquely in place of your House’s history. It churred the feeling of anxious dread in the pit of your stomach as your brothers eagerly left your side to explore the long-forgotten Red Keep.

“I would say it’s nice to be home, but I scarcely recognize it,” your mother said, a slight lilt to her melodic voice and sharing a knowing glance with Daemon.

You stood closely by her side, moist lips tucked in concern as you observed your stepfather’s butter smirk walking before the two of you. You and your mother stayed unmoving for another moment to allow the situation to settle. The abrupt raven, Lord Corlys gravely injured, Princess Rhaenys traveling to King’s Landing, Luke’s legitimacy loudly called to question all happening within a few days was more commotion than you had within the entirety of your stay at Dragonstone. It was a wonder you hadn’t plucked at the hairs of your Crown, your digits twitching and coming to scratch at your scalp.

Suddenly, you felt a shift in the air, unable to name the sensation as you turned to your mother, whose beautiful violet orbs were trained on a series of portraits of your kin. While your King grandsire, stepfather, mother, Queen Alicent, and her children were there, your siblings were not, leaving only the elegant, rectangular golden frame of your countenance in the places of your brothers. You felt your heart drop and glanced at your mother with wide, curious eyes.

This meant too many things. Not only was it an insult to your mother and siblings to have all but their pictures, but the fact that it was only you there out of the six of you. It was no doubt Queen Alicent’s doing as you forced yourself to swallow a lump in your throat. The tears you kept at bay reemerged as your fingers dug under your black mesh veil, rolling the fine dark hairs at the nape of your neck between the pads of your thumb and forefinger.

Swiftly, your mother took your wrist, soothingly rubbing your knuckles as she gave you a brief yet wistful smile. “Why don’t you find the Godswood, yes? I shall meet you there shortly.”

You bobbed your head stiffly, willing your tears and trepidations to quiet as you rubbed at your damp lashes. “Yes, Mother,” you responded in kind with a sniffle.

You found yourself within nature as you always did in times of strife, gazing up into the crimson leaves of a Weirwood, the soft rustle of branches reminding you of inaudible whispers. They were hard to make with the sky’s brightness, only to see the fuzzy outlines with the gray clouds, but they comforted you. The Old Gods watched you with their unseen eyes as your fingertips traced the rough bark grass crunching beneath your boots.

The Godswood was the only place within the Keep’s grounds that did not cause you significant stress, as only fond memories of your times with Helaena catching insects and playing games with Jace and Luke filled your mind. You had no desire to return to King’s Landing despite being away for so long. It felt as if no time could heal the irreparable wounds caused within these walls and the person who did it.

Many rumors spread throughout the realm and to your little island of Dragonstone from the smallfolk, whispering that Prince Aegon’s appetite for depravity did not curb after his marriage to Princess Helaena. The people said it increased tenfold as the Prince was spotted frequenting the gambling houses, brothels, and illegal fighting pits. It seemed fitting for your eldest uncle’s character to become the worst of something he was supposed to make the best of.

You could only think of the innocent children sired into this world without their mother’s consent and then put into the fighting pits so that Aegon and other highborns could have their entertainment. When you are Queen, you shall kill every man or woman who dares to share the same interests as your uncle. You would not willingly allow such depravity under your rule. No amount of coin from such establishments could be worth it to keep the economy afloat.

The soft crunching of late winter grass caused you to jump, tearing from your thoughts as you turned to see your grandmother, Princess Rhaenys. You bestowed her with a deep curtsy and smile, coming to greet her with open arms.

“Grandmother!” you called with unspoken joy in your tone. “Tis a pleasure to see you after so long.”

She extended a tight-lipped smile that looked like a grimace, and you felt deflated. “I wish I could share the same unwitting joy you do, seeing as my Lord Husband lays battling with the Stranger.”

You lowered your arms with chagrin and took a few paces back as you felt the sting of tears resurface. “Apologies, my lady. I did not mean for my joy at seeing my father’s mother to make light of the gravity this day brings.”

She chuckled wryly at your words, shaking her head as she looked to the Weirwood tree behind you. Following her gaze, you moved from her path as she took steps forward. There were so many things you wanted to say to her, to scream to her how much you loved your father and wished for those involved with his death to pay as you twirled his signet ring on your middle digit.

Princess Rhaenys looked to you in the serene noiselessness of the Godswood, the chill in the wind causing you to shiver, gaze drifting to where you worked the gold around your knuckle. She said nothing with her mouth. She needn’t, as you could see it written plainly in the deep wrinkles lining the corners of her eyes. The Princess felt the same but would never admit it aloud to a… bastard.

“I shall leave you in peace, Princess,” you bowed again, walking with less brightness into the Keep as you left the one person you could speak about your father to.

You felt like an imbecile for what you said, even though any grandparent should feel the same glee you did at their grandchildren’s arrival. A hot wave of embarrassment seared your insides, causing you to dig the heels of your palms into your eye sockets, ripping your veil off in anger. You didn’t care about the beautifully plated hair your ladies created, scraping your nails into your scalp to feel the threadlike texture of your bothersome strands that ached to be released as you ran blindly through the stone halls.

There had been times when Aemond had forgotten who you were, your smile, your laugh, your eyes, who your birth father was, and the sweet kisses you bestowed on him alone in his chambers. That is why he reasoned that he was surprised to see a woman grown and no longer a girlish figure with a short, flat torso and legs. Instead, it was a lady with the slope of your neck dripping with rubies and dragonglass barely hidden beneath the crevasse of your swelling bosom.

Your eyes were all he could think about from the moment you emerged from the second wheelhouse. A scared, almost dovelike look to them as he watched Luke and Jace come to your side.

Good, he thought. You all should be terrified. Yet he did not hold the same conviction as his stare drifted back to you.

The Prince thought you were so small and fragile from a distance as he observed you leave the Godswood, an arch to your dark brows that seemed to be in pain. He thought there should be nothing within your perfect ideal life to be so torn about and wanted to give you a reason to be upset. Aemond planned to spit all the vitriol he held within these six years as you rounded the corner, and yet, as Aemond held you within his bruising grasp, you stared at him with such fire beneath unshed tears.

The passageway Aemond cornered you into carried a chill seeping in from the outside as he saw your cheeks redden in ire. Your moist, plump lips slightly parted to breathe as he dug his blunt nails into your biceps. He felt his breeches become impossibly tighter as you swallowed, darting your pink tongue out in nervousness, much to his frustration.

Aemond was no longer the sun-kissed Prince with wide amethyst eyes full of light. His plush, boyish face had slimmed in the time lost and turned into one of hardened maturity with a sharp nose and chiseled jaw that came to a point with thin pink lips. His countenance resembled the statues you saw in Dorne as you felt his strong hands dig into your muscles like he wanted to tear at your essence. You felt your body weaken against your will, succumbing to the emotions you felt for your uncle in your youth, but resolved to stay firm against his intimidation. There were still hints of the Aemond you briefly knew in your childhood, the one that kept that night a secret still to this day.

“Unhand me, Aemond!” you spat as if he had swiped filth across your face, a deep wrinkle on your forehead.

Aemond wanted to laugh despite your seriousness as he pressed you further against the pale red stone wall, uncaring if Princess Rhaenys heard your cries. You dropped your headpiece in your struggles and attempted to retrieve it before your uncle’s piercing grip righted you again.

“Must I?” he quipped, his stomach churning with excitement as the familiar scent of citrus and something darker wafted into his nose. “You’re a strong lady. I’m certain you can overpower me.”

Aemond allowed his gaze to roam over your face as you scoffed with a squirm. He wanted you to be ugly, for you to become the personification of all the wrongs your family committed against him, to be the picture of the betrayal he felt for you choosing them over him on that dreadful night. Up close, he unwillingly realized you were what the smallfolk claimed you to be. The picture of the Maiden though he knew you were anything but. Aemond wondered what they would think should the people discover your true nature.

“You believe yourself a true Velaryon, do you not? The Old, the True, the Brave,” he asked, his voice low and menacing. His face was so close to yours that you could see the intricate stitchings of his brown leather eyepatch. You wondered if he wore his sapphire today. “Your hair is decorated with gold and pearls, fingers adorned with jewels, and wrapped in lavish dresses. Yet beneath all the decadence you wear, you are still nothing more than Strong.”

His insults meant nothing as you realize your uncle felt the same inner turmoil. Why else would he speak such prose of your being? He loathed and loved you in the same breath, something he fought to keep inside.

“Do not hide behind cruel words, Aemond. I see you as you are.” A delicate hand came to cup his marred cheek, the smooth pads of your fingers tenderly stroking the plunging indentation through his skin. You wished to get through to him, to tell him that despite the rift between your families, you cared for him. He could still be your Mors Martell.

The Prince felt himself crack, an unconscious twitch of his lip that he disguised as a sneer. Aemond felt a sensation he fought to keep at bay since he was disabled, struggling to hide the way memories from long ago clouded his mind. Instead, the Prince focused on how you inhaled a sharp breath when his hand left your arm and came to your face, jerking it towards his as Aemond lost your tender touch. He would swear upon his death that he saw your eyes dilate a fraction too much for it to be the shadow of the torchlight.

Wondering then if the rumors were true that you and your twin had a closer relationship, he brought his other fist to encircle your waist, trailing it down the back of your plump thigh until he forced it to wrap around his hip. A part of Aemond was sure you would scream for help as you did when he found you with Aegon, but no words escaped your moist lips.

“You hurt me, my light. Can I not simply bask in the presence of my long-lost dream?” he mocked and realized that he might have gone too far as he felt your body stiffen and face blanched. The expression on your visage reminded him of the times he saw wounded soldiers return from minor village uprisings, the bloodshed changing their perspectives.

The Prince understood that there was no returning from what he said, seeming to have flipped an unseen switch inside you at the mention of his mother’s petname for you. Your lips began to tremble on their own volition, and you abruptly noticed the striking resemblance between Aemond and his older brother. The most venomous expression you could muster curled onto your face, hiding your fright and not allowing him to hold power over you any longer.

“Don’t insult my intellect, Aemond. I know what disgusting thoughts play inside your mind, and they intimidate me for naught. You are more alike to Aegon than you allow,” you jeered. You knew what to say to wound him, to compare him to his wastrel of an older brother who raped innocent serving girls and his kin.

Unable to help your wandering eyes, you watched how your uncle’s pink tongue moved within his mouth, how the wetness glistened with the flick of his ire.

“And what of you?” Aemond rebuked. “You cannot simply only be close siblings. The dragon’s blood runs thick and even more so between twins.”

You were silent, leaving only the faint rustling of nature in the distance wrapped around the pair of you like a rope, tightening against your skin and pulling you and Aemond closer. Despite the frigid weather, it became hot, sweat collecting on your upper lip and nape. All Aemond could hear was the fierce rhythm of your breathing, his eye wandering down to the elegant necklace perched on your chest.

“You spout baseless, vile accusations of your kin that have made lesser men lose their lives,” you rebuked, fists coming to clutch at his jerkin and wrapping your digits in the green leather as if you meant to fight him.

“Perhaps,” he breathed with an air of superiority, “but I don’t believe it to be treason to question your morals,” he replied coolly, his light brow quirking with his tone of practiced impassivity.

The Prince was stunned into silence when your tiny, delicate palm echoed off his marred cheek. It was not the force that shocked him, but rather the notion that you did it despite the threat of violence.

For a brief moment, white, hot pain seared at his left temple and into his skull as he turned to you and saw an expression of regret. Aemond felt the heat on his cheek and smirked. He knew you intended to hurt him by striking him on his injured side and now understood how to cripple you as Luke did him. It would always be your beloved family—your weakness.

The lamb bit as fiercely as the wolf, Aemond mused. You may not be as frail as he thought.

Excitement curled the Prince’s toes at the whimper that escaped your lips as he used his strength around your throat, perfectly styled hair fraying on the stone. Your once flat irises now burst with life as they darted across Aemond’s lean form in brief terror, a proud grin wrinkling his eyes.

“You ignorant bitch,” he declared, pressing himself closer, his hand firm around you despite attempting to pry them off. His other limb reached down, shifting you to the tips of your toes as he dropped your leg. Though fruitless, he reveled in the terror that washed over your features as you attempted to fight him. He wouldn’t dishonor you, but all that mattered was that you did not.

Aemond felt disgusted at his actions, believing for a moment that you were right about him, that he was indeed the same as Aegon, yet in different colored clothes.

“I’ll scream. Just as I did that night.”

“Then do it and let the whole Keep think worse of you,” the Prince mocked, bearing his white teeth. “I shall say it was you who seduced me, and who will they believe? The King’s second son or the bastard daughter who fucks her brother?”

He could feel your humid breath against his face, fanning the spot where you had struck him. Aemond stared at this vicious yet adored creature in his grip as he concealed his insecurities with the intimating tilt of his head as if examining a new book. His violet eye traced the ink, waiting for your next move. The Prince would have you think him to be Aegon if it meant fucking his spend into you no matter how undeserving you were of it. Perhaps you would finally see what the true seed of a dragon looks like. Aemond grinned with his unspoken words and felt satisfaction with the anger he stoked in your eyes.

“You will let me go. Now,” you demanded, pushing against your uncle as you struggled for purchase.

“And then what will you do? Run? Men in King’s Landing are not as kind as I when they see a distressed lady.” Your jaw ached, feeling like a rabbit cornered by a fox as a familiar and unwelcomed primal warmth blossomed between your thighs.

You wanted to threaten him, to say that you would feed Aemond to your dragon or poison him in his sleep, but nothing came to mind besides the smell of too-sweet wine and the taste of dried dates. Memories came from that night, as you felt yourself becoming faint, the will to fight to leave you just as it did with Aegon as powerless tears welled on your lashes. You were a fool to think Aemond would see past his injustice for the sake of the past and resign yourself to whatever fate he chooses for you.

There was no point in fighting. Once again, you were at the mercy of your uncle, and you only prayed that this one would be gentle.

The Prince no longer felt proud of his actions as he watched your body recoil into itself. There was something in your eyes that Aemond couldn’t name as he looked between them, feeling himself slowly pulled into their depths as he did the night after Aegon. The Prince wasn’t going to hurt you, not really. He was young and foolish, but not to the extent that he would commit an act of one of the highest sins.

As if the mother herself took mercy on you, the soft murmur of voices down the hall echoed into your and Aemond’s ears. You could not hide your smirk as he stared into you with a deep scowl on his porcelain face. Whatever plans he had, they crumbled like dead leaves underneath your boots as your mother and step-sister came. Taking his momentary distraction to your advantage, you shoved against the hardened planes of his chest, your sudden rush of strength knocking Aemond off balance as you retrieved your forgotten headpiece.

Soon, they came into view, their destination no doubt being that of the Godswood as you fixed your disrupted attire. You couldn’t help the grin that pulled at your plump cheeks as you saw your uncle’s scowl, taking a few paces to reach them. You seemed the proper princess to the outside, greeting them with a quick embrace and your chin high.

Rhaena acted like Aemond wasn’t there. Only the uncomfortable shift of her shoulders revealed she noticed him while your mother extended a short but polite acknowledgment before he stalked away without proper dismissal.

“What did he do to you?” your step-sister pointedly questioned, scanning your form for any injury.

You looked at her in what you hoped was a confused yet grateful expression and not one of guilt. “Prince Aemond merely wanted to make amends for the lack of presence at our arrival. I do not believe him to be sincere.”

Your mother smirked her delicate peony lips, releasing a scoff of disbelief as she shook her styled hair. She closed the space between you and tenderly grasped your shoulders as she scanned your form for injury.

“Do not let them get to you. They seek only pride and glory,” your mother declared steadfastly, a vibrancy you had never seen before in her amethyst eyes.

Nodding in acquiescence, you extended another brief embrace before you excused yourself, wanting nothing more than for this day to end as you went to search for your brothers.

You needed Jace—to feel the comfort only your twin could give after facing the scars of the past. Before reaching your destination, you felt an iron-like grip across your upper arm, pulling you into a secluded alcove. You feared the worst, that someone planned to harm you and that your last words to your mother would be lies.

“You are quick, niece,” Aemond whispered haughty into your ear, causing you to drop your headpiece in fright, “but that quickness will do you no good in King’s Landing. Your whore mother has no hold here.”

Just as quickly as your uncle took you, he released you with a shove. You wanted to bite with some clever or witty remark but thought of none. Tears of embarrassed frustration welled in your eyes as you spun on your heel, ignoring the tickle on your wrist like something had touched it.

As Aemond watched your womanly form retreat, dark eyes trailing over your curves, he did not feel the satisfaction he believed the interaction would create, spotting your discarded veil on the flagstone floor. He stared at it for a long moment, tracing the intricately sewn beads as he picked it up.

Unsure of what came over him, he brought it to his nose, the scent of citrus flooding his senses and into the blood that engorged his cock. He was able to appreciate the feminine quality of your fragrance fully. Your aroma was refreshing and rounded, sweet but complex and deep simultaneously, similar to the limes that garnished drinks during the Keep’s summer gatherings, but with floral, herbal, and resinous undertones.

With a guttural noise, the Prince tightened his grip on the headpiece, channeling all his hatred towards your family into his clenched fist and tucked it into his jerkin. He swiftly went to the training session with Cole, hoping the knight wouldn’t see through his façade before witnessing the impending downfall he believed your family deserved.

Masterlist of Series

Spotify Playlist

Sooooo, what did we think about their reuniting? Just two mentally ill and horny young adults. XD I originally wanted the whole meeting with Aemond again, the petition, and the dinner scene to be all in one chapter, but that was waaaaaay too much. I split them up to get those infamous scenes in the next chapter. I'm excited. It's gonna be juicy!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you so much for reading! (⁠ ⁠´⁠◡⁠‿⁠ゝ⁠◡⁠`⁠)

I wanted to briefly give credit to @targaryenrealnessdarling, and their fic The Blood is Rare for inspo of the setting when Aemond and the reader meet for the first time. However, I did change things to make it my own. They have a lot of Aemond fics that will surely quench your thirst as y'all wait for the next chapter. (⁠◠⁠‿⁠◕⁠)

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp, @britt-mf, @marvelescvpe, @haikyuusboringassmanager, @discofairysworld, @lottiemsgf , @nessjo @fiction-fanfic-reader , @qvnthesia , @hotvillianapologist , *@p45510n4f4shi0n, @theendlessvoidofdarkest , @readerselegance , @gothamgurl2024 , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @vaylint , @ln8118 , @prettyduckling22 , @primroseluna

*bold means I can't tag you for some reason ｡⁠:ﾟ⁠(⁠;⁠´⁠∩⁠`⁠;⁠)ﾟ⁠:⁠｡

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silverflqmes · 5 months ago

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your writing is my everything omg...you say you're quite new to the ff7 fandom, but you're so insane at writing the characters, its amazing. AHEM ANYWAYS <3 I was wondering if you could write some sephiroth x reader (who's love language is physical touch, and is quite energetic, and loud. However, more soft-spoken and gentle with him.) Knocking on his door at 3am only to find him awake, and it turns in to a cuddling session 💗

໒⦂ 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐍.

notes. anskwjsdj anon, that’s so sweet to hear🥺 i swear i’m new, really!😭 i got into it back in february so it hasn’t been very long.. but i appreciate your words, they’re very reassuring since i doubt my portrayals a lot :’) i hope this post is to your liking!<3

genre. fluff + comfort

sephiroth x gn!reader.

shinra was ever quiet into the late evening as you tiptoed down the corridor of suites, careful not to stumble or make a ruckus. after all, normal people were asleep around this hour, even if you weren’t one of them.

but.. neither was your boyfriend, apparently, and you were about to make that his problem.

reaching the end of the hall, a soft breath spilled from your lips as you raised your fist to gently knock, grinning brightly. “sephirothhh.. it’s meeeee, your beloved y/n!” you sang as quiet as can be, suppressing a giggle before adding in a whispered yell, “open up before i freeze my ass off!”

it was a known fact that he, like his other peers, was graced with enhanced senses. which included hearing — among many other qualities to detect your presence, of course.

that being said, sephiroth had to be aware of your arrival, and by the pattern of footfalls echoing behind the door, it seemed he was!

liquid mercury framing a pale, ethereal face emerged through the crack of the doorframe, lips pulled into the tiniest of smiles. “apologies, i wasn’t aware i would be receiving company at this hour.” he finally spoke, sidestepping as an unvoiced invitation. “to what do i owe the pleasure of your lovely presence?”

with a quick kiss to his cheek, you threw your arms around him after twisting the lock, humming softly. “well, i must confess that i was suffering of boredom, lingering caffeine and a horrid lack of sephitonin.. so i decided to do something about that!”

a soft peck was placed on the flat of your temple in return, a noise of amusement following. “sephitonin, you say? and a lack of it? my, that sounds terrible, it simply won’t do.” sephiroth murmured back, cradling your body close to his by the hips. “what is your solution, if i might inquire?” there were several things that came to mind, but somehow you always had a way of going beyond his assumptions.

this was no exception. “a kiss for every minute that we have been apart sounds promising.. or a cuddle session until dawn, that sounds very appealing too.. then again, a goodnight’s rest on your thighs sounds lovely as well.. is ‘all the above’ an option here?”

a chuckle tumbled from his rosewood appendages, eyes crinkling at the corners. “hm.. just for you,” he paused, bringing a hand to cup your cheek. “i’d be willing to allow all of your suggestions. however, dawn is not far off.” the general warned, tracing his thumb over your warm skin. “we’d better get started.”

leaning into his cold, yet soothing hand, you allowed yourself to enjoy his touch for only a moment before letting out a tiny gasp. “you are so right. i should have infiltrated your apartment much sooner.” you concluded, pulling away to slip your fingers through the crevices of his pale ones. “it seems we have four hours at best and many, many kisses in dire need of compensation.. think you can handle this job, SOLDIER?”

though he knew the answer already, sephiroth fed into the silly act and made a contemplative sound, tapping a finger on his chin. “it will be a great feat, but i would not be a SOLDIER first if i could not accomplish this for my beloved.” he answered finally, smiling at the way you beamed up at him. did you always have to be so adorable?

“great! then it’s settled,” you giggled, tugging him forward. “to the bedroom we go!”

and to the bedroom you both went, laughter echoing all the way to the threshold where you fell back onto the collection of pillows with a bright grin.

the feline eyed male was quick to fill the spot beside you, pulling your body into the shape of his own as his nose buried into the crook of your neck.

kisses were peppered in his wake, snickers eliciting from your lips at the moonlight colored strands brushing over the curve of your cheek. it was utter bliss, being in his arms as you were, the signature rose and vanilla clinging to the air surrounding you both. somehow it was more prominent than normal; perhaps he had washed his hair after arriving home. either way, the scent put you at complete ease, as always.

“comfortable?” velvet cut through the silence, a gentle murmur against your ear.

you couldn’t help your giddiness at his affections, smiling like a teenager in love as you nuzzled against him. “incredibly, i’m about to have the best sleep ever.”

bemused, sephiroth shifted to tuck your head underneath his chin, allowing his eyes to flutter shut. “truly? well, i’m happy that i can provide you with such. i’ll certainly be sleeping nicely tonight as well.” a slumber devoid of the usual nightmares? with his beloved? he’d take it any day, no matter the timeframe in which you ask.

“good,” you muttered back, pressing your lips to his collarbone as your legs tangled with his own. “i want you to rest well too, i know it’s been harder as of late.. so i, y’know, wanna accommodate as best as i can.”

for a moment he fell quiet, though his arms- they spoke volumes of gratitude when they tightened just slightly around your form.

eventually, he found his voice again. “thank you, my love.”

notes. kinda short but i offer you a dose of sephitonin🤲 i’ve been adjusting to uni life so i haven’t been able to get to requests but i will do my best to gradually put out! just bear with me until then pls!🥺🫶

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

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reiding-writing · 1 year ago

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building lego flowers with Spencer? :> he always gets reader flowers and they get sad when they wilt so he surprises them with the lego set and they spend a cozy afternoon together building them and drinking tea?

immortal [ s.r ]

Summary:

Spencer bought you flowers before every case he went on. But coming to your apartment after the case was finished and seeing that they’d wilted made his happiness to see you wilt along with their petals. Luckily for him, he’d seemed to find a more ‘immortal’ solution.

WARNINGS: n/a

pairing: boyfriend!spencer x gn!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 1.2k

masterlist!!

a/n: this request is so cute and it is also a preemptive apology for another request that i’m working on that is, you guessed it, full of angst, love you guys <333

Spencer would always buy you a bouquet of flowers before going off on a case. Always.

The minute his phone buzzed to call him into the office he was off to his local flower shop to buy you a bouquet to remind you of his love for you even in his physical absence.

The floral arrangement was different every time. Each bouquet fit with a handwritten card explaining the flora and its symbolism.

But by the time he return they’d often be wilted, an unfortunate reminder of just how much time he has to spend away from you.

And so he arrives at your apartment with an agenda, no longer able to stand the sight of flowers that should’ve been discarded days and sometimes weeks before when he returns to see you after a case is over.

You always tell him that it’s because they remind you of him, of how much he loves you even when you can’t see him. But the drooping flowers and brown stems that always greet him upon his return, whilst it might not bother you, made his shoulders slump with guilt about not spending enough of his time with you.

He knocks three times on your apartment door, an unusual cadence that you immediately recognise as you rush to let him in, clad in a pair of fluffy pyjamas with a bright smile on your face.

You capture him in a hug as soon as you open the door, a kiss planted fervently on his cheek.

Your smile doesn’t falter at his lack of his usual flowers when he arrives unannounced at your door, but you can’t help the small quirk of your eyebrow as you lean back to give him back some personal space.

“You’re off on another case already?” Your tone betrays the small amount of disappointment you’re feeling. He’d only returned the day before yesterday, promising you a museum date on the weekend to finally spend some more quality time together. Looks like you’d have to reschedule.

Spencer can’t stop himself from breaking into a sheepish grin at your greeting, but also has an air of determination about him, his left hand securely held behind his back as his right rubs your arm lovingly.

“No actually…” He can see the flicker of disappointment in your eyes morph into confusion, and he takes the opportunity to pull you towards him and press his lips to yours, hoping to kiss any lingering negativity in your mind into non-existence. “Can I come in?”

“Of course baby yeah,” You tug him into your apartment by his wrist, a strange rattling noise emanating from behind his back as he moves to kick your door closed behind him. “What’s that?”

You tilt yourself to look behind him, and he blocks your view as he turns himself in tandem with you. “You know how much I hate seeing the flowers I buy you wilted when I come to see you,”

“So… I… I thought… I think I might have found a solution?” He takes a second to figure out how to word his sentence, pulling out a rattling box from behind his back, four printed lego flowers decorating the front of it to indicate what’s inside.

Your eyebrows furrow a little further as your eyes examine the box before lighting up with an air of eagerness as you take the box in your hands to look at it in more detail. "You bought me lego flowers?"

“I did,” He chuckles, “I found them in the Target by my apartment, they cant replace real flowers but they’re a good substitute.” His beautiful hazel eyes are warm as he looks at you in amusement and the soft tone to his voice is calming.

“Now I know lego flowers isn’t what you were expecting from me… and I’m sorry if you were looking forward to a regular bouquet… but I promise you… these will never wilt.”

"They’re perfect Spence…" You give him a downturned smile at his thoughtfulness, how he’d found a way to immortalise the flowers he gave you.

You press your lips to his cheek to extend your gratitude, and the warmth that spreads through his entire being is something that words can't quite describe. "I'm glad you like them... " A genuine smile lights up his face as he wraps both arms around you in a tight hug, his heart fluttering in his chest. "I'm glad you exist."

You can’t help but chuckle at his final sentence, wrapping your arms securely around his torso with the box still in hand to return his hug, the lego pieces rattling with your movements. "I’m glad you exist too-"

At your words, he buries his face into your neck and sighs softly as he inhales your scent. It calms his nerves, and it makes him forget all the stress of work. Instead, all he can focus on is the warmth coming from your body and the feeling of your heartbeat against him. It’s a feeling he never wants to let go of.

"You’re going to build them with me right?" Your head leans against his shoulder as you essentially just stand in your doorway, completely intertwined with one another.

"Of course I am..." His voice is slightly deep and his tone gentle, "What sort of gentleman would give someone lego flowers without building it with them?" He chuckles before adjusting his arms to make himself more comfortable against yours.

"These lego flowers should be built together," He smiles, "And I want to do that with you."

“Good!” You release yourself from his embrace and press the box to his chest. “Clear off the coffee table and i’ll make us some tea,”

Your enthusiasm is infectious, his smile only growing as you retreat into your kitchen and leave him to set up.

You spend the rest of the afternoon huddled around your coffee table, meticulously assembling the four lego flowers whilst Spencer explained them to you.

He turned a newly finished pink lotus in his hands before gently placing it inside the glass vase usually reserved for the bouquets he would buy you. “Lotus flowers, or Nelumbo nucifera, symbolise strength, resilience and rebirth,”

The plastic makes a small clinking sound as it collides with the bottom of the vase. “They are also a staple of purity, as despite growing from murky freshwater ponds, there are no stains of the flower’s petals, usually a bright white or a pale pink.”

You nod enthusiastically at his explanation as you place your own finished flower into the vase alongside his, a bright synthetic floral arrangement slowly developing.

This new form of flowers doesn’t stop Spencer from buying you a bouquet before every case he goes on.

Except now, each arrangement is joined not only by a small card, but also a box with the lego replication of whichever flora he chooses, adding to your lego arrangement one by one until it’s more extravagant than any organic bouquet could ever hope to be.

The plastic flowers prove immortal beyond any normal flower’s capability.

A perfect mirror of his love for you.

One that would never wilt.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #asks 🫶

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urmultideadfandomperson · 9 months ago

Text

The Specialists as Your Boyfriend

Fandom(s): Winx Club

Pairing(s): Red Fountain X Reader

Character(s): Sky, Brandon, Riven, Timmy, Helia

Genre(s): Fluff

Writing Style: Headcanons

Summary: A few headcanons of the Red Fountain Specialists as your boyfriend.

Warning(s): None

Requested by: None

Note: Hello! It's been a while since I wrote some headcanons like these. And yes, I joined the Winx Club fandom recently because I just finished Season One! It feels good to go back in track! I apologize for my lack of posts nowadays, but I'll try my best to feed you some content! Enjoy your read!

Sky

I know a lot of people find him as 'meh' because he is sort of a basic blonde, I can agree

But for me, he's super sexy, I cannot. This prince completely stole my heart because of his basic personality (yes, I'm a basic bitch too)

Anyway, Sky is definitely a sweetheart, already seen at how he treats Bloom in the first season

But don't forget he's the prince of Erakylon, so he's definitely rich

Sky will pamper you with so much love and affection

Whether if you're royalty or not, or if you're a fairy or an earthling, this man will still love you

Hand kisses are a MUST

Brandon

Oh boy. This suave flirt

Because Brandon is Brandon, he will obviously love teasing and flirting with you.

But that doesn't mean he wouldn't flirt with the other girls in Magix

As Prince Sky's squire, he obviously knows how to defend you. He may or may not try to impress you that way

He will definitely bring you to dates in Magix. Wherever you want to go, he will come with you

He may be flirtatious to you and other girls, but I assure you that Brandon is loyal. How did he become Sky's squire if he wasn't a loyal servant to him?

And for me, I have a feeling he will give golden retriever vibes

Riven

THIS MAN IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE

Riven is really awkward and closed off in the beginning of your relationship. But as time goes by, he becomes comfortable

He isn't the best guy in words of affirmation, but the way he helps you out when you need it is always there. It's his way of loving you

This man actually has the best and warmest hugs

It's a guilty pleasure of his in which you try to calm him whenever he is about to go maniac over someone or something

Surprisingly very cuddly in private

Riven also wants you to stay in Red Fountain often so you can watch him spar with the other Specialists

Timmy

Similar to Riven, he is firstly awkward in the start of relationships (less awkward than the latter, however).

He loves to go to the library with you to study for exams and such

When he has new things to share, the first person Timmy will approach is you because he knows you will listen

Timmy is actually really blushy, and this is evident whenever you help him with his glasses

He isn't really into physical contact, but he does excel in quality time. He loves your presence with him

You're his assistant during calculations and he loves your cooperation as a duo

Timmy loves to gift you some new items and he likes to impress you with his logical thinking

Helia

Ah yes, the hottest guy to ever exist in Red Fountain of the Magix Realm

Helia loves to write poems and short stories for you

Since it is often seen that he loves to draw, he would secretly draw you in his sketchbook

Expect bouquets of flowers from him once in a week

It may or may not be expected, but Helia loves to say some pickup lines. These pickup lines are either cheesy or romantic

You are the only person he allows to braid his hair, so be thankful

Hand kisses are a MUST 2.0

#winx club #winx club specialists #winx club sky #winx club brandon #winx club riven #winx club timmy #winx club helia #winx sky #winx brandon #winx riven #winx timmy #winx helia #winx club headcanons #which club imagines #headcanons #imagines #i have returned #motivation is back

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hybbart · 3 months ago

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This is perhaps a strange question, but do you have the sketch/lineart/framework/whatever the heck it's called that you use when you draw Tango? I decided I want to learn to draw, and my thought process was, "Ah yes, the easiest way is to try and copy my favourite Tangos cause I know how they look," and it is going... poorly xD.

Alternatively, do you have any advice on how to learn and develop a style, or how to get/keep going?

A reference sheet? I have a couple various ones, though at this point i don't really use a reference unless I need to sample colours, and I'm currently working on a colour reference for myself. Besides the point I suppose... I'll put them at the very bottom of the cut so scroll right past my ramblings if you want to.

As for advice. My advice is do not try developing a style if you are just starting out. style is the last thing that should be on your mind if you're just starting out. Style is something that happens naturally as you grow and learn what you like and get used to your tools, and being able to intentionally create a style is an advanced skill that requires the skill to draw in various styles, strong basics, self-awareness, and proper self-critique.

The rest of this is going to be very incoherent and long winded and backwards so I apologize.

The most important thing to improving is to get over yourself. You need to look at someone else's art and be able to admit it's better than yours or has a quality you wish yours had without that being a statement of self-deprecation. You need to be able to look at your own art and pick out what it is you don't like about it without using it to beat yourself up. You can't improve if you get demotivated by the information required to adjust your course.

If you must, find something in each drawing that you like and focus on learning how to recreate that. If you find yourself with a drawing that you genuinely find nothing you like about it you stop drawing and restart, because that drawing is worthless to you once you recognize that. Analyze why you don't like it, figure out what's causing you to draw that way, ask what you might prefer instead and what the difference between them is, and figure out how to draw what you want instead. The important thing is that when you examine your art and other's art you're using as inspiration you don't instead use it as a tool to put yourself down.

My shadows are flat and poorly angled, and I draw everything lopsides, and I can say those things as simple facts of my art. These are things I still do, and I use tools to fix them, like turning my tablet or using editing tools, or looking up references. If I want to know a certain technique I reach out to other artists I see using said technique and asking, or I research it myself. In the meantime I experiment and accept this flaw in my art. There's other things to like. The important thing is you don't allow your lack of knowledge to demotivate you from correcting that lack of knowledge.

The best thing you can do is ask yourself what you like about art, and what you want to do. It's a bit difficult for me to help with this sort of thing because I've literally always drawn my whole life, so helping someone who is actively choosing to take up drawing isn't my realm of expertise. But art is communication and connection and self-expression. What do you want to express through your art and what medium is that expression best done in, what do you want to convey, what do you want to share that you simply cannot without art.

It's a bit daunting, those sound like profound questions, but honestly they're not. When I draw fanart usually what I wanna communicate is "I like these characters when they do this", and more often than not it's "I really liked this line/palette".

These incomplete character sketches have sat in my main D&D folder and I think about him at least once a month entirely because I was so happy with his proportions and the concept of a dewclaw heel. I ended up reusing the heel in these Jimmy designs.

It can be anything and changes with each piece. Drawing let's me express what I love and emphasize what I love about it or show it from my perspective. I'll use this raau page as an example.

This is actually based on a shop that I've gone to since I was a child, so it's a space that I've seen and thought about many times. Though it's changed, for ease of drawing and to fit into the setting of raau and for the sake of composition, but the things that are important to me are still here. The ceiling that feels slightly claustrophobically low, the rainbow coordinated shirts, the club covers shaped like animals, every inch of the shop being utilized for merchandise until you can barely see the walls, the nook shape of the section, the fluorescent lights with this specific covering that's very "soulless office job" but to me is also the playroom at my grandma's house and how both have no windows.

I wanted to preserve particular qualities of the atmosphere of the place, in order to express that in this image. That vibe that I could not describe in words to anyone who hasn't experienced it themselves so the best I could normally do is describe it and hope it sparks a similar enough memory. But with visual art I can use lightning, context, and composition to simply express it better. I can create the experience for someone else.

Sometimes writing is better at it than words, and sometimes both are needed, so I learned both. Sometimes music is better than either and I'm screwed because I can't do music. That's besides the point though.

When you're starting out you can have a hard time grasping what about a piece compels you. That's why you need to learn to critique art as you learn to draw, and that's also why tracing and copying is good.

Here's an example of me trying out @lunarcrown's art style. I made a collage and traced my favourite frame's shapes to "get my hands on it", if you will, before trying it out on my own, starting with similar poses usually. What I learned from this is I really like how Lunar does hair, actually even though this was a study of Tango I took notes on how she does Jimmy's hair and applied it to my Scar, Impulse, and Skizz, because I'm awful at short men's hairstyles.

I also cemented one of the reasons I love her art is because it does have some qualities that I already incorporate into mine, like the streamlining between flushed materials such as her Tango's skin and skin-tight shirt, or my Tango's sleeves and gloves.

If you know what you like about something it's easier to work towards incorporating it into your own art without simply copying someone else's. And starting out by copying as a way to play around with someone's art the same way an engineer pulls something apart is helpful in doing so.

Which leads me further back into simply go somewhere and draw what you see. The drawing does not have to be good, but being able to just take a sketchbook and see something that scratches your brain and mimic it is important to developing the above skills. Being able to translate reality into an image is important to developing your skills and understanding the fundamentals of breaking things down. Being able to look at something moving or possibly far away and look down and draw it anyways by breaking down its shapes is important in developing your ability to use references.

Drawing is also mostly muscle memory. So it's important to draw things over and over again. You can do this how you want, you're always going to hit a wall where you end up having to sit there and draw circles 50 times on a page to remember how to draw circles like you're trying to get a dry pen to work. You will do this before almost every serious picture. Find a way for you to enjoy this process.

The biggest most important rule about art, though, is that there is not rules. Go about things however you want for whatever reason you want. If you enjoy doing something a certain way do it that way, if you hate a particular process eliminate it. Sometimes the result outweighs a miserable process, if having something look a certain way is more important then suck it up and do so. If you care more about enjoying a motion than what the end result is then do so. You have to ask yourself what you care about in art.

For now, though, if you're just starting out. The best thing you can do is draw a lot of circles and cubes and fruit. It's an unfortunate truth that the best foundation is learning realism, because it's just going to teach your the fundamentals the best, and all abstraction is... well, an abstraction.

Of course, as just said, there is no rules, and if you genuinely do not enjoy drawing those things like me, then you can simply not. It helps improvement the fastest but if it makes you miserable in a way that isn't backed by passion then that's counterproductive. Forcing yourself only really works if you're passionate enough about what you're doing to overcome the temporary discomfort of learning, so if you're satisfied with just being able to mimic something more abstract in the beginning do exactly that and explore what would make you passionate enough to be willing to draw things you aren't stoked about for an end result. You might never be, but that's also fine, you don't have to strive to be the world's greatest artist to justify drawing.

Also accept that you're absolutely going to change your mind on things. What felt like a great line to draw you're going to hate the next day. It's up to you if you leave it be or fix it, neither's the right answer. I tend to lean towards leaving it personally, even when it drive some up a wall, simply because I have very momentary inspiration and don't like returning to old pieces once I'm done with them. Some people will return to a picture over and over again fixing it every time they think of something. Whatever floats your boat.

tl;dr figure out what you enjoy doing with art and just do that as much as you like. Improve by finding new things you want to do with art. Combine as you see fit to create art.

...

okay time for references:

I try to keep my designs simple because the style I developed for mcyt art was intended for animations. I've drifted a bit but in general I keep to simple shape-defined designs with long lines, flat colours, and minimal wrinkles. It's intentionally flat in many ways in order to create more satisfying lines, like the collar of his shirt or the way his hands ' gradient is done with the line art.

Tango is both round and angular, basically he's an almond. His shape is ambiguous in much of his clothing, with very understated joints. This gives him a move cartoony elastic sort of vibe, like he's just a pipe cleaner that can bend any which way, or a piece of rubber that might stretch.

I avoid bogging him down with logic for that reason, his hair is styled like hair but it has the appearance and moves like fire. Which is it? Who knows. Where are his organs? I haven't drawn them so they don't exist.

#ask #long post

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

Text

puppy love II l.wienroither x reader

its criminal there isn't more fics for her so let me try to mend the gap. also i know that this timeline of laura and leah's ACL and recovery isn't accurate but we're gonna go with it for the sake of the plot!

puppy love II l.wienroither x reader

pulling up outside beth and vivs home you couldn't get out of the car fast enough, unbuckling yourself and quickly shooting out of your seat, locking your car up after you over your shoulder.

"um hello?" you paused at the front door and your eyes widened, looking back to see your older sister glaring at you through the open passenger window.

"sorry!" you breathed out with a wince, racing back and unlocking the car, grabbing her crutches from the back and helping her out of the car and to her feet.

"i told mum you'd be a shit carer." leah grumbled as she hobbled behind you toward the front door. "hey!" you scowled at her over your shoulder before knocking repeatedly on the front door. "you could always go back to mums leah, the options there." you threatened as the blonde held her hands up in apology but rolled her eyes the moment you turned around.

"you know it's not going to open any faster the more you knock on it woman!" beth pulled the door open with a teasing grin, opening her arms for a hug as you only darted inside and right past her. "get used to it she's useless." leah sighed, accepting beths hug as the shorter blonde chuckled.

"she's in love, what do you expect eh?" "she almost dropped me down the stairs this morning because her phone went off with a text from you know who!" leah recounted with a deeply annoyed frown as beth laughed and helped the taller girl inside.

"hey there is a speed limit in this house you know lieve." your taller team mate teased affectionately as you raced down the hallway, stopping in your tracks to smile at viv apologetically and give her a hug.

"oi why's she get a hug and i don't! you're not supposed to have favorites." beth protested as she and leah appeared, you rolling your eyes playfully and hugging the needy blonde who patted your back. "see? now was that so hard."

"none of you are my favorite. i'm actually trying to get to her now if you don't mind?" you stated bluntly, ignoring their teasing's as you headed down the hall toward your girlfriends temporary bedroom. laura having moved in while she recovered from her acl injury, her family all in austria she'd been somewhat adopted by the two older women she was now living with.

"you two behave and remember she is injured yes?" viv warned semi seriously at your retreating figure. "yeah no funny business, i mean it!" you heard leah yell sternly after you as you paused to flip her off, grateful she was injured as she blonde shot you a murderous glare, knowing if she had two good legs she'd be swiftly after you.

much as you loved one another fiercely you also fought like cat and dog growing up, your older sister relentlessly torturing you at times but if reminded of that she'd simply claim she was 'helping you toughen up'.

and thats not to say she wouldn't and didn't rain down hell on anyone else who dared mistreat you growing up.

now older the two of you got along much better and had played for the same club for years, but you still got on one anothers nerves every now and then as sisters do, especially now you were assigned as her primary carer while she recovered from her own acl.

distance really does make the heart grow fonder so when leah had needed to move in with you to assist with her rehab, the lack of personal space for either of you had meant the silly arguments increased.

then when your girlfriend had gone and done her acl and needed to move in with beth and viv, the lack of quality time the two of you now faced had worsened your mood.

the two of you were a relatively new pairing after crushing shamelessly on one another for months, sharing shy smiles and bashful glances, both assuming the other would never feel the same way.

eventually laura grew tired of wondering and made her move asking you out, much to the relief of your entire team who were fed up with the mutual pining. and now happily dating you were both still very much so in the honeymoon phase, positively obsessed with one another like giggly lovesick teenagers.

escaping the other three women you knocked on your girlfriends door, hearing her call to come in as you stepped inside, the blonde on the bed perking up as you quietly closed the door, ignoring viv and beth who yelled to keep it open.

"hi liebling." laura grinned, pulling herself to sit up as you dumped your bag on the end of her bed. "hello lover." you grinned back, the girl making grabby hands at you as you carefully settled yourself on the bed beside her, the two of you hugging tightly.

"i missed you." you mumbled into her shoulder as the blonde repeated the words back to you and you sat there in one anothers embrace for a moment before disconnecting.

"oh i have presents for you." you suddenly remembered, clapping happily as you shuffled down the bed and grabbed your bag. "but it is not my birthday?" the blonde frowned in confusion, thick accent you had fallen hard for prominent in her words.

"this, and these, and this, and this, and these and this." you unloaded snack after snack onto the duvet, your girlfriends face softening as she practically melted into a puddle seeing all of her childhood favorites spread out on the bed.

"where did you get them?" she breathed out, touching at the austrian treats and picking them up gently as if they could crumble at her touch. "an international sweets store online, they arrived yesterday." you explained, heart swooning at how much the blondes face lit up at each item she touched.

"oh lau." you cooed, leaning in to wipe a stray tear from the girls face as she again pulled you into a tight hug, burying her face into your shoulder as you gently rubbed her back.

"i love you." the blonde mumbled into your top, the three words making your heart skip a beat, the same way they did the first time you'd exchanged them just a couple of weeks ago. "i love you too." you beamed as she pulled away.

"i love you more." the blonde challenged as you settled into the bed beside her, careful not to knock her bandaged leg which was propped up on a pillow. "i love you most." you countered, grabbing her hands and messing around with her fingers as your head slumped to her shoulder.

"i lov-" "god please stop this is disgusting."

"leah! get out." your head swiveled to your older sister with a scowl as the girl leaned against the door frame with her arms crossed. "hi leah!" laura greeted happily, the older blonde unable to refrain from sharing her smile at the younger girls infectious enthusiasm.

"well you've said your hellos. now get out!" you ordered again, pointing behind her as your scowl deepened and lauras warm hand rested on your hip, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"viv said door open, have some manners i'm just the unfortunate messenger." your sister rolled her eyes before knocking on the now open door to prove her point and stepping out. "and you should be using your crutches!" you yelled out sternly after her, her middle finger popping back inside the door frame before she left again.

"hey-" your girlfriend squeezed your hip again to gain your attention, mumbling something in german as her thumbs smoothed out the deep frown embedded in your eyebrows. "hey i'm a beginner i don't know what that means." you pouted, the blonde having been slowly tutoring you to learn the language, however it was indeed a slow process.

"i said stop frowning or you will get wrinkles." she teased making you scoff and gently smack her chest. "excuse me? rude." you shook your head before glancing down to her leg.

"please do not ask, i am sick of everyone asking how it is feeling." the blonde spoke with a rare show of vulnerability before you could, her normally smiley exterior cracking for a second as her eyes glazed over.

you nodded wordlessly in understanding before leaning over to peck sweetly at her lips several times making her laugh. "proper one now meine liebe." she grinned, dipping her head slightly and pressing her mouth to yours eagerly.

"lau." you warned pulling away as she attempted to tug you to straddle her lap. "what? these are not my knee. these are strong!" she smacked at her thighs with a cheeky smile making you roll your eyes playfully at her insistence.

"no." you shook your head firmly, trying to resume the previous kiss as she craned her head back. "yes." she argued still with a smile, your top balled in her fists not allowing you to pull any further away. "no." you repeated with another shake of your head, flicking playfully at her ear.

"why not!" the defender pouted, just wanting your body as close to her own as she could get, the time the two of you were able to spend with just one another less and less since you had both adopted your new roommates and responsibilities.

"you know why." you stated a little more firmly this time, hands moving to rest on her cheeks with a soft smile. "i told you, these are strong! they do not call me tiny tank for no reason yes?" the girl beamed, her hands on your hips still trying to move you as you rolled your eyes and carefully swung one leg over her lap, hovering above her resting on your knees.

"hello!" she greeted happily as you sighed dramatically but leant in to reconnect your lips, your girlfriends hands roaming your body as yours rested on her shoulder.

"dinner!"

you squealed as you fell sideways on the bed, laura quickly shoving you off of her as footsteps sounded down the hall and viv poked her head in. "dinner is ready." the dutch woman announced, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at the two of you as you both sent her an innocent smile.

"mmm." she hummed and motioned for the two of you to get up before she left the room. "babe you almost pushed me off the bed!" you glared at the blonde beside you who smiled charmingly, mumbling an apology as she pressed kiss after kiss to your lips.

"stop the kissing and come and eat before it gets cold!" viv yelled out sternly again from down the hall as the two of you pulled away and paused before breaking out into laughter.

"come on." you rolled off the bed and stood, motioning for your girlfriend to get on your back as she swung her body to face yours. "i worry one day i will snap these chicken legs of yours." your girlfriend tutted but carefully climbed up onto your back.

"hey they're genetic!" you defended, both your siblings also sporting the classic williamson noodle legs. "just you wait, some more time and i will be back to carrying you around again with my strong legs liebling." the austrian patted your head mockingly.

"would you like me to drop you?" "that is my worry yes." "oh shut up!"

"and where are you two off to? you don't want to watch a movie?" beth questioned as laura draped her arm over your shoulder and you both began to head back to her room.

"we do want to watch a movie, just not with you." laura answered with a teasing smile and beth gasped, clutching a hand to her chest in mock offence. "did you hear that? i think my heart just broke!" she sobbed, burying her face in vivs shoulder who rolled her eyes at the theatrics and shoved her away.

"vivianne!" "what? you are annoying sometimes, i don't blame them."

"come get me whenever you're ready to leave." you spoke up angling the comment to your sister who raised her drink in understanding, mouth full of popcorn. "door open please!" viv called out as the two of you slowly made your way back down the hallway.

"we're adults!" you and laura yelled back in sync before bursting out into laughter and sharing a kiss, a small smile forming on the dutch womans face at the sight before the pair of you disappeared into laura's room, half closing the door.

after a prolonged argument over which movie to put on you'd settled on something neither one of you particularly wanted to watch, both with the same activity in mind you'd rather be doing instead.

which is how it came to be you peeked your head down the hallway, seeing the other three engrossed in their own movie, and ever so gently closed laura's door.

with a grin you bounded back to the bed, laying down beside your blonde lover and leaning in to press your lips against hers, her arms flushing your bodies closer together as you pulled her hair out of its messy bun and tangled your fingers in the silver strands.

you withheld a moan as her mouth moved toward your neck, the defender nudging your chin up with her pointer finger to give her more space to access.

"we said door open! laura you need to put your leg up!" the two of you jumped apart as the door flew open and viv flew in, crossing her arms and motioning for the two of you to separate. laura muttering in annoyance under her breath in german, sitting up slightly with a huff as you gently moved her leg to prop up on the pillow at the end of the bed.

"behave, i do not care if you are in love you need to be careful!"

and with that she was gone again, laura collapsing into you with a pained sigh, her silver blonde hair tickling at your nose as you pressed an affectionate kiss to her warm forehead.

with either viv or beth popping their head in every ten or so minutes to 'check up on the two of you' it burst the bubble of warm kisses and sweet giggles you tried to let consume you, and so you'd settled for trying the selection of austrian treats you'd bought for the blonde, laura giving a running commentary on each one.

"hey!" you gasped as she held out a piece of chocolate for you but right as you reached out to take it she popped it into her own mouth with a smirk. "want to taste it?" she teased, puckering her lips as you couldn't help but grin and lean in.

"jesus please do not taste it."

"leah!" you scowled at your sister who was once again leaning in the door frame with a look of disgust. "viv said i have to stand here while she and beth do the dishes." leah mumbled with a deep seeded frown, folding her arms over her chest.

"oh my god lee please go away!" you whined, throwing a cushion toward her which bounced lamely across the floor. "oh believe me i want to! but beth took my phone and won't give it back unless i stand here." the older blonde huffed, eyes dropping to the array of food laid out on the bed.

"want some?" laura offered kindly as you smacked her leg unimpressed. "oh fine! come on." you sighed and made room for your older sister to sit with the two of you on the bed, laura's running commentary now repeated toward leah as she handed her various different treats to try.

"come on juliet you can kiss romeo at training tomorrow, lets go!" leah yelled out and clapped impatiently from where she was leaning against your car waiting as you exchanged kiss after kiss with the blonde in the doorway.

"i love you." "i love you more." "i love you most." "i love you-"

"we get it you're both sickeningly in love now lets go!" leah yelled out again with a groan, dragging her hands down her face as you placed one more sweet kiss to the austrians lips and turned away.

"honestly you're both so obsessed with one another its disgusting-" leah started as she carefully slid into the car and you placed her crutches in the back, closing the door after you and clicking in your belt.

"-but it's nice to see you so happy." your sister sent you a sincere smile which you returned gratefully as you started up the engine.

"oh look, it has a heart." you wiped a fake tear from your eye, dampening the sweet moment. "leah!" you yelped as she landed a firm punch to your arm at the comment.

"you just couldn't let us have a nice sisterly moment could you." "you just assaulted me and it's my fault we can't have nice moments?" "oh toughen up don't be such a wuss." "when my girlfriend has two good knees again...i'm gonna get her to kick your ass."

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #laura weinroither x reader #woso imagine #woso blurbs #leah williamson #laura weinroither #awfc #awfc x reader

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sorcerer-felix · 5 months ago

Text

Cocksure in the Corporate World

Anonym hat gefragt:

Loved your last story. I am a female just trying to make it in a man's world. Can you show me what a life as a man would be like? I work in the corporate world.

In the bustling headquarters of a renowned corporation, you sat at your desk, meticulously reviewing the day's work. Your curly brown hair, a touch of casualness in an otherwise professional ensemble, frames your focused face. As a Senior Administrative Manager, you've climbed the corporate ladder with dedication and precision, ensuring every task for the Singapore branch is executed flawlessly. Your attention to detail is legendary among your colleagues, who often seek your guidance.

Especially Peter, your neighbor at the adjacent desk, seemed to rely on your support more than anyone else. Peter, a few years your junior, is the antithesis of your meticulous nature. His charm and intelligence are undeniable, but his approach to work is carefree, almost reckless. He's the life of the office, always sharing stories of his latest romantic conquests, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

As you finished up the report, you can't help but reflect on your relationship with Peter. He's like a little brother to you, always in need of guidance, especially when it comes to his work. You've been cleaning up after him for years, ensuring his reports are accurate and his deadlines are met. Despite his lack of attention to detail, he's intelligent and likable, always bringing a smile to your face with his antics.

Suddenly, a hush fall over the office as your boss called Peter into his chamber. You exchanged a concerned look with Peter, who shrugged nonchalantly and headed into the meeting. You knew he's been a bit lax with his work lately, and you couldn't help but worry. "I've told you to be more careful, Peter," you muttered under your breath as you watched him go. "But don't fret, we'll sort this out." Time seemed to crawl as you waited for Peter's return. Finally, he emerged from the boss's office, a broad smile plastered on his face. "You'll never guess what!" he exclaimed, his eyes gleaming. "The boss offered me the Team Head position in Singapore!" Your jaw dropped, and for a moment, you couldn't find your voice. You were happy for Peter, but the promotion stings. You've been working tirelessly, putting in long hours, and yet Peter, with his carefree attitude, has leapfrogged over you. "That's wonderful, Peter," you managed to say, forcing a smile. "Congratulations."

As you congratulated him, a part of you wondered if it's because he's a man. You shake your head, dismissing the thought. You've always believed in your abilities and worked hard to prove yourself in this male-dominated industry. Before you could dwell further, your boss called you into his office. You straightened your blazer and took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come. "Emily, I wanted to discuss the last report," your boss began, his tone serious. "There was a minor error in the footnotes." You felt your face flush, knowing full well that you pride yourself on your accuracy. "I apologize, sir. It won't happen again." "I expect better from you, Emily. Attention to detail is crucial in this role." He leaned forward, his expression stern. “See that it doesn't, Emily. Precision is key in our line of work. You're a valuable asset because of your attention to detail, but we need everyone to be on the same page." The frustration bubbled up, and you blurted out, "Or what? Will I get promoted like Peter? He's the one who made the mistake in the first place!" Your boss fixed you with a steady gaze. "Emily, you are precise and accurate, but Peter has leadership qualities. He inspires people, and look at how he's influenced you. You've been doing his work without complaint."

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of emotions—anger, betrayal, and a hint of embarrassment. You nodded, choosing to remain professional, but inside, you were seething. Needing a moment to collect yourself, you head down to the café in the building's lobby. As you waited for your coffee, your mind raced. Is Peter really getting ahead because he's a man? You clenched your fists, the steam from your coffee mirroring the heat in your veins. "You look like you could use a friend," a voice said, breaking your train of thought. You looked up to see a handsome young man with sparkling blue eyes and stylish blond hair. He was wearing a white silk suit, an unusual choice for the corporate setting.

"I'm Felix," he introduced himself with a charming smile. "You look like you've had a rough day. Care to talk about it?" There's something innocent and disarming about his demeanor, and you found yourself spilling your frustrations to this stranger. You felt a physical pull towards him, a sensation you haven't experienced in a while. So, you told him about Peter's promotion, your boss's comments, and your concerns about gender bias. "I would give my life to understand the man's world," you sighed, more to yourself than to Felix. Felix' eyes twinkled with mischief. "Deal," he said, and a blue light emanated from his palms, enveloping you in a surreal glow. The world went dark, and when you regained consciousness, everything felt... different.

Your senses were heightened, and you were acutely aware of your surroundings. But something was off. You tried to speak, but no words came out. Panic rose within you as you realized you couldn't move. Then, a familiar voice echoed in your mind, “What the hell just happened?” It was Peter, and he sounded just as confused. “Emily? Is that you?” “Yes, it's me!” you responded, relief flooding through you. “But what's going on? Why can't I move?” “I... I think you're me now. Or rather, you're my...” Peter's voice trailed off as he took in the situation. Your mind cleared, and the realization hit you both at once. You, Emily, had become Peter's penis. Your consciousness was intertwined with his, and you could feel his emotions as if they were your own. The only remnants of your former self were the curly brown locks on Peter's head and the impressive appendage dangling between his legs. Peter, now aware of your presence, turned to Felix, who was still standing nearby, a satisfied grin on his face. "What did you do? Why is Emily... why am I...?" Felix's playful demeanor remained unchanged. "She wanted to understand the man's world, so I granted her wish. Now she can experience it firsthand." He leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Do you wish it to be different?" Peter's eyes widened in fear. He shook his head, his thoughts flooding with images of potential transformations. "No, I... I don't want to change anything. I just want to understand what's happening." Felix laughed, a light, carefree sound. "Then enjoy the experience! It's not every day you get to share a mind with your colleague's most prized possession."

As Felix walked away, Peter's panic set in. He had a few days off to prepare for his move to Singapore, and now he had to deal with this—with you. “I can't believe this is happening,” he thought. “And you're in my head, reading my every thought!” “I know, I'm sorry. But we have to figure out how to fix this,” you pleaded. “We need to find Felix and make him change us back!” Peter's thoughts turned to his promotion and the responsibilities that awaited him in Singapore. “I can't risk changing anything right now. I need to focus on my new role. Besides, I never knew you felt that way about my promotion. You were jealous?” “I... yes. I guess I was. I worked so hard, and I thought I deserved it more than you did. I'm sorry, Peter,” you admitted, feeling embarrassed by your own thoughts. Peter was quiet for a moment, considering your words. “It's okay. I understand. But I can't risk going back to Felix. Not yet. I need to get used to this... new situation.” Later that evening, Peter stood in front of the mirror, examining his new appearance. He ran his fingers through the curly brown hair, once a part of you, now framed his face, and he considered cutting it. "Please, don't," you pleaded in his mind. "I loved my hair. It's all I have left of my old self." Peter's hand hovered over the scissors, then dropped to his side. "Fine, I'll keep it," he conceded.

He looked down at his body, now enhanced by your presence, and his eyes landed on his crotch. He cupped his hands around you, and you twitched involuntarily at his touch. “I have to admit, the extra length and girth feel pretty good,” he thought with a smirk. “Don't you dare!” you screamed in his mind, as you realized his intention to pleasure himself. Peter jumped, startled by your outburst, and quickly withdrew his hand. “Okay, okay! I won't. But you're part of me now, and I can't help but notice how much better I look and feel.”

As Peter sat down to review the reports, you felt a sense of urgency. The documents contained crucial information about the Singapore branch, and you knew every detail had to be scrutinized. But Peter, never one for meticulousness, skimmed through the pages, his eyes barely grazing the words. “Slow down,” you urged him mentally, your voice a mere whisper in his mind. “We need to go over these carefully.” He sighed, frustration evident in his tone. “Emily, I just want to get a general idea. I’ll read them thoroughly later.” “But—” You tried to protest, but he cut you off. “I need a break. I’ll head to the gym, clear my head. We can finish this later.” You felt a surge of annoyance. This was not how you would approach such an important task. But as you were now a part of Peter, your influence was limited. At the gym, Peter went through his workout routine, his movements fluid and effortless. You couldn’t help but admire his physical prowess, but your focus remained on the reports. “Peter, we should get back to the office. Those reports won’t read themselves.” He grunted as he lifted a set of weights, his muscles straining. “Later. I need to blow off some steam first.” Your frustration grew with each passing minute. “Peter, please, we can’t afford to waste time. This is important!” Suddenly, his mental voice boomed in your shared consciousness, making you flinch. “That is my life, Emily! You are just my cock now, so shut up!” The force of his words took you aback. You had not expected such a powerful assertion of dominance. You felt a momentary silence, a realization that your influence over him was not as strong as you had hoped. Peter finished his workout, his body glistening with sweat. As he stepped into the shower, you felt the warm water cascading over your shared body, a strange sensation that you were still adjusting to. “These long hairs are getting in the way,” he thought, running his fingers through the curly locks. “I should get a haircut.” “No!” you protested, a sense of panic rising within you. “Please, don’t cut it. It’s a part of me, of who I was.”

He ignored your plea, and soon, Peter found himself in a barber’s chair, the familiar brown curls falling around him, a stark contrast to the stylish short cut that remained. “Yes, finally,” he thought, looking at his reflection with satisfaction. “I’m back to myself.” You felt a pang of loss, a sense of your former self slipping away.

But there was no time to mourn as the evening unfolded and Peter settled in to watch some TV. The remote clicked, and the screen flickered, landing on a channel you never expected to see. "Whoa, porn!" Peter's eyes widened, and you felt a rush of blood, a sensation you had never experienced before. "Stop!" you screamed in his mind. "This is inappropriate! We can't just—" "No, Emily," Peter interrupted, his voice firm. "I'm not changing the channel. I'm a man, and this is what men do. You're a part of me now, so deal with it." You felt violated, exposed, as his hand reached down, cupping you, his cock, possessively. "No, please," you begged, your voice weak. "This is wrong." "It's not wrong, it's natural," Peter said, his voice low and husky. "You're my cock now, and you'll do what cocks do." Peter’s hand wrapped around you, stroking, massaging. “This is my life,” he said, his voice low and determined. “You’re a part of me, and this is what I need.” You tried to resist, but the sensations overwhelmed you. Your protests turned to desperate moans as pleasure consumed you. “Yes... more...” you found yourself begging, your thoughts becoming incoherent as the pleasure intensified. “Faster... please...” Peter’s hand moved in rhythm with your desperate pleas, and you felt yourself nearing the brink. “Yes... so... horny...” you screamed in his mind as the climax hit. The release was unlike anything you had ever experienced, a burst of ecstasy that left you trembling. As the pleasure subsided, you felt a mix of emotions—exhaustion, satisfaction, and a strange sense of shame. You had been reduced to a mere instrument of pleasure, and despite your resistance, you had relished the experience. Peter, seemingly unaffected by the moral implications, turned off the TV and headed to bed, leaving you to process the events of the day. You were now more than ever aware of your new reality and the challenges that lay ahead.

The journey to Singapore was a blur of airports, planes, and jet lag. As you dangled between Peter's legs, the excitement of this new chapter in his life is palpable. But something has shifted within you, Emily. The assertiveness you once possessed has faded, and you find yourself hesitating to offer suggestions or voice your thoughts. Perhaps it was the way he firmly established his dominance during that intimate moment, but you can't deny the change in dynamics.

As Peter stepped into the bustling office, you felt his nerves, but also his determination. He was ready to take on this challenge, and you couldn't help but admire his spirit. The day flew by in a blur of meetings and introductions. Peter was charming and charismatic, effortlessly navigating the corporate world. "That went well," Peter thought to himself as he sat at his new desk.

You felt a twinge of unease as you realized your influence over him was waning. "Hey, I'm still Emily!" you protested in his mind as the days went by, your voice becoming more desperate. You wanted to remind him of your identity, of the person you were before this transformation. But Peter, focused on his new responsibilities and the excitement of a foreign city, barely registered your plea. "Ey, get used to it, you're just my cock now!" he snapped back, his thoughts already drifting to the challenges and opportunities that lay ahead.

But something unexpected happened the following morning, something that would change the course of your existence yet again. "What's this?" Peter murmured, his eyes still heavy with sleep. You didn't know what was happening, but suddenly, you felt a surge of blood rushing into your shaft, hardening you, greeting Peter with a morning erection. "Whoa, good morning to you too," he chuckled, stroking you gently. "Seems like you're settling into your new role quite nicely." You wanted to protest, to scream at him to stop, but the pleasure that coursed through your cock-body was overwhelming. You had become a willing participant in your own objectification, and the realization hit you hard. "Oh, Emily, you're really getting the hang of this," Peter mused, his fingers wrapping around you in a familiar grip.

You tried to protest, to remind him of your identity, but the words failed to form in your mind. It was as if your consciousness was muted, able only to experience the physical sensations. "There, there," Peter cooed, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through your new form. "No need to be shy. Embrace your new role." And as he stroked you, you can't help but agree. The feeling was intense, overwhelming, and you found yourself greeting Peter with this eager hardness each morning. "You're finally behaving like a proper cock should," Peter said, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "I knew you'd come around." Peter, satisfied, went about his morning routine, ready to take on the day with renewed vigor. As the days passed, you found yourself becoming more attuned to Peter's desires. Your once-scrupulous nature, the drive to make him more precise in his work, was fading. Instead, you found yourself drawn to the very essence of your new form. "Look at that one, Peter," you'd whisper in his mind, directing his attention to a beautiful woman walking by. "Not now, my cock," he'd respond, his focus unwavering during important meetings. But you knew that later, in the privacy of his apartment, he would indulge in the fantasies you planted in his mind. "I'm losing myself," you thought, the realization hitting you with a pang of sadness. "I'm becoming nothing but a tool for his pleasure." But even as you fought against this new reality, you couldn't deny the pleasure it brought. You were becoming Peter's cock, and with each passing day, your former aims and desires were shifting, aligning with your new form's primary purpose: to fuel Peter's lust and make him the virile stud he was always meant to be. Your wish to understand the life of a man was being fulfilled in ways you never imagined.

It was a typical workday, and as Peter stepped into his office, he noticed a familiar yet unfamiliar face. Felix, the young intern, has arrived, but Peter didn't recognize him from their previous encounter. Felix, the young sorcerer who granted your ill-fated wish, stand before Peter's desk, a hint of mischief in his sparkling blue eyes.

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of your old self, captivated by Felix's charm. "Welcome, Felix," Peter said, his voice smooth and confident. He motioned to the chair in front of the desk, his demeanor that of a seasoned leader. "I'm glad you could join us for this internship." Felix's innocent smile send a shiver of anticipation through you. "I'm excited to learn from the best, Peter." As Peter began to explain the corporate structure, his hand subconsciously reached out, gently caressing Felix' head. You, as Peter's cock, stir with newfound power, your length growing in his pants. Peter's words became huskier, his actions bolder. "In this world, a clear hierarchy is crucial. Respect and submission are the keys to success." Felix's eyes widened slightly, but he remained still, a willing participant in this unexpected seduction. "I... I understand, Peter." Peter's fingers trailed down Felix's neck, unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate slowness. "Submission is a powerful tool, Felix. It can unlock doors and grant you access to realms you never imagined." Before Felix could respond, Peter's hands were on his waist, lifting him onto the desk.

You felt Peter's breath quicken, his desire fueled by your influence. "You see, Felix, in this world, I'm the one in control." Felix's breath caught as Peter's lips found his, and you, revel in the sensation of power. Peter's actions were guided by your desires, his straight facade crumbled under your control. Peter's hands moved to Felix's hips, pulling him closer, his own body responding to the lust you've ignited. "Yes, Peter," Felix whispered, playing along with innocent fervor. "Show me... show me how it's done." Peter's hand moved lower, unzipping his own pants, revealing your rigid form, now fully erect. Peter's breath was hot against Felix's ear as he whispered, "Just relax and enjoy, my boy. It's all part of the learning process." Felix' body arched as Peter entered him, his eyes squeezing shut as he bite his lip to stifled a moan. Peter's thrusts were slow and deliberate, his cock, your body, filling Felix with a pleasurable burn. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the office, accompanied by Felix' soft whimpers and Peter's grunts of exertion. "Yes... I... I understand, sir." Felix moaned, his hands gripping the desk as Peter's thrusts became more urgent. Peter's chuckle was deep and sensual. "That's it, Felix. Let go and submit to your desires. It's the only way to truly understand the corporate world." As Peter's movements became more urgent, his tie, still hanging around his neck, swing with each thrust, a symbol of his dominance. Felix' moans filled the office, a sweet melody of surrender. In this moment, you realized the extent of your power. You can control Peter, bend him to your will, and even alter his sexual orientation. The thought was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Felix' thoughts betrayed his innocent facade, "Impressive how...” he trails off, not remembering your name, the name of the woman who once was “ ….his cock has made Peter at least bi or even gay and so dominant. But I, Felix, the sorcerer, will show him his place soon enough." Unaware of Felix' inner monologue, you continued to guide Peter, reveling in the sensation of being his driving force, the very essence of his desire.

As Peter collapsed onto Felix, you felt a sense of triumph. You've controlled him, made him dance to your tune. You are no longer just a cock, but a powerful force, capable of bending others to your will. Felix's innocent act and your manipulation of Peter's desire have created a puppet on strings, and you intend to keep pulling those strings. In that moment, you realized your transformation is complete. You are no longer Emily, the meticulous administrator. You are a force of nature, a tool of pleasure, and you will shape Peter into the virile stud you desire - with his head crowned in luscious brown curls.

#sorcerer felix #female tf #cock tf #ctf #female to male

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