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bananadrinkxxx · 1 year ago

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THE BLOOD CROWN (19)

[Aemond Targaryen x Original Female Character ! I fem!reader]

[Dark Romance / Enemies to Lovers / Revenge]

Content for adults. 18+

[warnings: smut, sex content, dark romance, angst, fights, domination, murder]

[description: Aemond Targaryen meets his niece under a different name and falls in love with her without knowing that she is supposed to be his enemy.]

PART 19

warning, very long chapter. 5.5K+

"Come here, my sweet daughter,"she heard in the cold darkness, it bounced off invisible walls and returned to her. "Come to me."

Come to me...

She saw nothing. She felt nothing. And yet she saw everything and felt everything. She felt a touch on her head, someone gently running their fingers through her hair. Who was that? The fingers were soft and left a pleasant tingling sensation.

"Look here," a boy's voice suddenly said, laughing. Children's laughter. "Come back..."

She looked.

She saw nothing.

Where was she? She felt weightless.

"Here, for you," she heard him say again and suddenly had a paper figure in her hands. What was it?

"I miss you..."

I miss you too. Who are you?

She looked again at the figure, which suddenly moved. A white dragon was looking at her, proud and graceful, a feeling of royalty. She felt her heartbeat, pulsing in the dark room. The dragon was beautiful.

"Everything will be fine," a woman's voice rang out, and suddenly there were flames everywhere. It was so hot, so hot. It was licking at her skin, the flames calling to her, calling to her.

"Why is he so sad, Mother?" a girl voice said.

"He fought back and still got blamed."

"Hmmm, that doesn't sound nice."

Suddenly the white dragon was burning in her hands and suddenly she screamed. The scream was deafening and the scream struck her to the core. It shattered her ears and made her blood quiver. The dragon was burning like a torch, it could hardly be stopped and all she felt was cold. Cold hands. That reached for her and held her tight. She couldn't escape and no matter how hard she fought, she had no chance.

She felt tears on her face. Her fingertips touched her cheek. Wet.

It hurt so much.

Everything hurt so much.

"Remember" she heard her own voice suddenly sounding so foreign.

"Remember."

It was all so hopeless. So hopeless. She was alone. So alone.

She saw the fire, she felt the fire and suddenly everything was dark.

. . . .

Aemond stared at her pale, sleeping body. He had his eye focused on her chest, watching it rise and fall. He made sure she was breathing and leaned back wearily. It was his fault she was lying there. He looked at the injury, which was encased in several bandages. When the dagger had hit her, he had feared the worst. There had been blood everywhere, but it had not only been hers, but also that of his attacker. He had not hesitated and had stabbed several times at the man who had dared to violate that which was his. It was only when Ser Criston had entered his chamber and managed to calm him down that he had realized what a bloodbath he had caused. He had just stood there motionless, staring at Rose lying lifeless on his bed, coated in her own blood. He no longer knew what he had been thinking at that moment. Aemond had heard Criston talking to him over and over again while other servants took care of Rose.

He felt so powerless. Like a failure. The feeling pulsed through his veins, painfully reminding him of who he once was.

"Take the girl to the maesters," Criston ordered, then looked back at Aemond, who took a step forward as they grabbed women and men Rose.

"Don't," he breathed, his voice alert.

"They will help her, Aemond." Only in retrospect had he noticed that Criston had not addressed him by his title. But that did not matter to him. Nothing mattered. ROse was hurt and it was his fault for being too careless, too naive, too weak. He should have made sure the man was dead. She was lying there in bed only because of him. Almost dead. He would never forgive himself.

He always acted as if it was all about the physicality between them. About what he could do with her innocent, warm body. He had convinced himself that she had no meaning for him. That he treated her like any other maid and that she helped him with bathing and dressing. But now there was no turning back. He felt how Rose had taken over his head, his mind and his body and the idea frightened him. He felt weak. She followed his orders with a care, satisfaction and devotion, there was nothing to criticize about her, but in the end he had become her servant. He would do anything for her.

He never had enough.

Her body was perfect for him, but he could have gotten pleasure from other woman. Rose had another meaning for him.

A meaning that made him aware at that moment how weak he was. He felt weak. So useless and weak.

It was like when he was a little boy. He hated that feeling. He didn't want to feel it. He wasn't weak, but his feelings for Rose made him weak. He had vowed never to be weak again. Not to give anyone that power over him, as his nephews or even his own brother had then.

. . . .

Alys flinched as his gaze locked on her. The corner of Lary's mouth pulled up, a sense of power coursing through him, and he leaned against his desk, his hands resting on his walking stick as he surveyed Alys. She looked down at the floor, playing with her fingers. She looked uncertain and intimidated. These girls were his favorite. The insecure and scared ones who didn't know their place in the world. Alys was older, still younger than him, but she was already Queen Alicent's age. The thought of Queen Alicent made his smile widen. Also a young and intimidated thing, which he had been able to manipulate with little effort. She was more mature and wiser now, but she had never lost her naiveté.

"I expected more, Alys," he began, watching her wince. "I would have thought you were more skilled at these things, but your competitor seems to have been more successful."

Alys looked helplessly at him. "I did what I could. He seemed suspicious. Not interested, maybe."

"He likes women like you."

Larys let his gaze glide over her figure. A pretty face, a bit older but still pretty and a flawless body. There was nothing visually objectionable about her.

"I did what I could, my lord," she whispered, looking at the floor. My Lord. Larys loved that sound. Yes, he was her lord now. And her half-brother, but Alys was just a bastard and had no meaning to him. She served purely for the usefulness he associated with her.

"I guess it wasn't enough, which makes me wonder," he stood up. "Whether you're even useful to me anymore."

Alys looked up startled and shook her head in near panic. She was a pretty little thing. Larys loved the look in her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'll try harder. I will succeed," she promised, and as Larys stood in front of her, he raised his hand. She flinched as if she thought he would hit her, but he didn't hit women. He was a man of honor.

"I hope so, sweet Alys," he said warningly, yet lovingly. His hand stroked her soft cheek. "Make sure that girl stays out of my way, or I'll have to take action."

No one was allowed to stand between him and his plan. And who was this simple-minded thing anyway, this unimportant bastard who served only the purpose of lust. He would get rid of this girl, either one way or the other.

. . . .

When Rose woke up, at first she felt nothing. It was like being enveloped in a cloud, as if she were floating. For a brief moment she didn't know where she was, what had happened, before she remembered. A terror ran through her and she tried to sit up, but a sharp pain held her back.

She cried out. The pain coursed through her entire body.

"You have to be careful," an unfamiliar female voice warned her and Rose too to the side, to a woman with dark hair and green eyes. She was older than her, but the maturity in her face made her look more womanly. The stranger looked at her seriously. "You were hurt badly."

She gently pushed Rose back into bed.

"Who are you?" asked Rose hesitantly, and the woman smiled.

"My name is Alys. I'm new here and I'm taking care of your wounds," Alys explained to her, examining Rose's wound, which was covered by bandages.

"You mustn't move too frantically or you'll reopen the wound."

"I thought I was going to die," Rose confessed, following Alys' gaze. Alys nodded.

"You almost were. You were just lucky the dagger didn't hit anything vital. A finger's width farther to the right and it would have hit your heart. It's just a deep flesh wound."

Rose swallowed. "How long have I been lying here?"

"At least seven days. But I think even longer. You were awake from time to time, but you had a strong fever."

"How is Aemond?," the mistake had not occurred to her until she had already spoken his name, but if Alys had noticed she was addressing Aemond by his first name, she did not let it show.

"The prince is unharmed, thank the gods."

Rose breathed a sigh of relief. She looked to the side and spotted the vase of white roses sitting on the table beside her. She smiled.

"Was he here?" she asked hopefully.

Alys looked at her in surprise. She twitched her eyebrows and dipped a rag into the bucket of water beside her to dab at Rose's forehead. The cool wetness did her good. It made her feel alive again.

"Prince Aemond?" asked Alys in wonder. "He hasn't been here, Rose. Not once."

Rose couldn't ignore the stab in her heart. He hadn't visited her? Not even checked on her? She couldn't imagine Aemond caring so little about her, but then she wondered what significance she even had to the prince. And why would Alys lie? She had no reason to.

"The sight of me must have been unsightly," her voice trembled and Alys surveyed her insistently. Her gaze was unpleasant, as if nothing was hidden from her.

She said nothing.

"Then who are the flowers from?"

Alys looked at the flowers. "They are from Prince Daeron. He asked me to inform him as soon as you were awake." She stood up. "I will now obey that instruction. Get some rest, dear Rose. You will need the rest. I will send for the maester."

With these words Alys said goodbye and left the room.

Left behind was an injured Rose, who did not know what was worse, the injury caused by the dagger or the sting in her heart caused when Alys revealed to her that Aemond had not checked on her. That must have been a misunderstanding. Aemond would not abandon her, would he? She wasn't imagining her special connection, was she? Maybe Alys hadn't seen him. What she and Aemond had was special. She felt it. She knew it. He felt more for her, just as she felt more for him.

He had captured her heart and in that moment Rose realized that she loved this man. She had been willing to die for him and she would do it again.

. . . .

Alicent watched her son. It pained her to see him like this. She saw him training with Ser Criston and repeatedly striking the poor man with his sword, which he could only fend off with difficulty. He looked angry and upset. Since the assassination attempt on him, he seemed like a different person.

She heard him murmuring next to her and looked at her daughter, who was looking out of the window with bleak and tired eyes. Helaena seemed like a lifeless doll and it pained Alicent to see her daughter like that. She wouldn't eat, she refused to eat, and Alicent watched her daughter grow thinner day by day. She looked like a shadow of herself, eaten away and tormented by guilt that would probably never leave her. No matter what Alicent said, no matter how much she tried to cheer her daughter up, to encourage her or absolve her of her guilt, Helaena responded to nothing. Not even Aemond managed to get through to her and Aegon, as always, was no help.

But this murmuring, this murmuring was new. Since the attack on her and her children, Helaena had said nothing.

That night she had thought that she and her child would die. Then she would never see her grandchildren again. She had expected death. Expected it.

But then the servant whom her son Daeron had brought, and to whom she had attached little importance, had come and saved her.

She was not one to forget such a thing, but her connection with Aemond displeased her. It was not according to his status and she saw her son changing.

"Did you say something, my dear child?" asked Alicent hopefully, walking up to Helaena, who suddenly looked at her, her eyes fixed on her. Alicent tried to touch her, but her daughter only flinched.

"Dead and dragon's blood. In fire it will be revealed.Dragon blood will prove it, will crown it, will reveal what is obvious. The white dragon will not survive, but its ashes will rise and burn everything down."

Alicent did not understand. "Helaena what-"

"Dragon blood will prove it. In fire it will be revealed. The medal will change sides," Helaena suddenly hissed, her eyes preternaturally large. "And its ashes will rise and burn everything to the ground." There was a change in her voice. She almost seemed like a different person.

Her daughter's words were confusing, almost frightening, and she didn't know if it scared her more that Helaena was having her episodes again and that she didn't understand what the young woman was talking about. Helaena was shaking all over. She was dissolved and seemed lost.

"In fire it is revealed..."

In fire it is revealed.

. . . .

Alys had come to him immediately when the girl had woken up. He had known immediately what to do.

Unfortunately, the stupid woman had gone to a maester first of all. She prettier than intelligent.

"Maester Ervin," Larys said as the maester came out of the girl's room. He seemed surprised to see Larys standing there, and looked at him in irritation.

He had been waiting for him.

"Lord Strong," the maester greeted him and bowed.

"I'm surprised to see you here."

"Yes?" asked Larys with an undercurrent of played wonder. "Why?"

"I didn't expect to see you here," the maester confessed. "Are you here for the girl?"

Larys nodded with a smile. "Why?

"Isn't she our heroine? She defended Prince Aemond with her life. I wanted to inquire about her condition."

The maester nodded, believing his words.

"The wound is healing well. It is only a flesh wound. Both are unharmed."

Larys raised an eyebrow and took a step closer.

"Both of them?" It wasn't what he thought, was it? The maester looked at him in surprise.

"Sorry, I thought that was familiar. I'm new here. The girl is expecting a child."

Larys took a deep breath. A thousand thoughts flooded his mind and his head began to ache at the explosion these thoughts left in him. The girl was pregnant? He needed to calm down. He couldn't let his anxiety show.

Her pregnancy threatened to destroy everything. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't accept that. The girl was about to ruin everything. She was carrying a bastard under her heart. This child was not allowed to exist. She was not allowed to exist.

"Queen Alicent asked me for information about the girl's condition. It was important to her that the girl be well. Forgive me, my lord. I must tell Queen Alicent," the maester said and was about to move forward, but Larys stood in his way and shook his head. The maester raised an eyebrow and Larys put his hand reassuringly on his shoulder. He smiled.

"Queen Alicent is busy with more important matters at the moment. I will tell her at the appropriate moment."

"I thank you, but-"

"I am the closest advisor to Alicent Hightower. You can rest assured. I will tell her that you wished to obey her order at once, you have nothing to fear."

The maester looked at him suspiciously, as if he suspected something guileful behind Larys' suggestion, but his words seemed to have convinced him, and the maester finally nodded before bowing and moving off in the other direction. Larys watched him go before his eyes turned to the door behind which Rose lay in her bed.

It would have been easy to walk into the room and press a pillow to her face, but he couldn't afford to make himself suspicious. He had to keep a cool head and think rationally. He hadn't come this far to ruin it with a rash action.

. . . .

She waited for him until late at night.

But he did not come.

She had hoped that he would come when he heard that she had woken up, but he had not shown up.

She wondered if he even knew.

Not even Daeron had come today, although Alys had said she would let him know right away. Maybe there was some trouble? They were at war. There were certainly more important things demanding their presence.

Maybe it was a good idea to surprise him? Would it make him happy if he saw her?

She would be happy, but she realized that she knew nothing about Aemond's feelings. She didn't know what they both were, if it was just something physical for Aemond or if he felt the same way she did.

She had not hesitated to throw herself in front of him when the attacker tried to stab with the dagger. It was stupid and tired of life, she hadn't thought about the fact that she might die, basically she hadn't thought at all at that moment, but she realized she would do it again if it meant Aemond didn't get hurt.

Her hand clutched her necklace.

Was she in love with Aemond?

Had he wormed his way into her heart without her realizing it? Every thought of Aemond filled her with joy and happiness. The mere thought of him made her heart beat faster. She longed for his touch and his attention, his affection was like inner peace.

Her bare feet touched the cold floor as she stood up. She twisted her mouth as she moved her shoulder, and the wound across her chest stung painfully. The maester had told her to stay on bed rest, but she wanted to see him.

She wanted to tell him what he meant to her.

When she stepped out of her room, the corridor was empty. No one was there and Rose had lost her bearings for a moment until she found her way to Aemond's chambers. She saw the guards standing outside his door and paused. A glance down at her told her that it would not be a good idea to appear before them in this state. She had not wasted a second in her haste to go to Aemond's that she was dressed only in her nightgown.

She therefore decided to go to the side entrance. Aemond had shown it to her so that she could get to his room unseen when they made love.

Once there, Rose gently pushed open the door, anticipation rising on his surprised face, and was about to enter when she suddenly paused when she heard Prince Daeron's voice.

"She is a pretty woman," Daeron said. "She will make you happy, Aemond."

Aemond said nothing in reply. Not seeing them, she wondered for a moment if Daeron was talking only to himself.

Who were they talking about? About her? Rose smiled for a moment. Aemond had told his brother about them both?

"Do you think she's trustworthy?"

Rose's eyebrows drew together in irritation. Was Daeron really talking about her? She shared a friendship with the prince, and he knew she could be trusted. He himself had brought her here.

"That remains to be seen." She listened to Aemond's voice for the first time, but it suddenly sounded so foreign. So forbidding. Was this feeling coming over her because she hadn't heard him in so long?

"You don't seem happy about this connection."

And suddenly she didn't understand anything.

"It is my duty as Targaryen. I will fulfill my duty."

Who are these two talking about? Connection? What connection? What duty?

Rose pressed closer to the door, quietly, so that they would not know that she was listening to this conversation.

"Marrying into House Baratheon will help us advance in the fight against Rhaenyra. We need the strength of his house," Aemond continued and Rose realized they were not talking about her. Aemond was planning to get married. It hit her like a slap in the face. She no longer felt her body. Everything became cold and hot at the same time and as if someone kept hitting her head with a hammer, Rose felt a dull pain.

She felt the first tear roll down her cheek.

Was that why he hadn't visited her?

Because he had replaced her?

Because she had no meaning for him?

"But your heart lies elsewhere, does it not?"

She heard Daeron's gentle cautious question and she held her breath. Did Daeron know about her, after all? Had Aemond told about her, after all? Had he been forced into this marriage because it was a political marriage? Did she mean something to him after all? Maybe he didn't want this marriage and did it only because it was expected of him?

- It is my duty as Targaryen. I will fulfill my duty. -

He had said it was his duty. Hope arose in Rose. He wanted this union nicht.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know who I'm talking about. I know about you and Rose. I know what happened and that on that night of the attack...that you were intimate with each other."

He knew.

Daeron knew it, but the way he phrased it, Aemond hadn't told him.

"She means something to you, doesn't she?"

Rose peered hopefully through the small gap between the room and the door. She didn't want to overhear him, she knew it was wrong, but at that moment she had a chance to get the answer to her question.

"She means nothing to me," Aemond said, and it was like a dagger being stabbed straight into her heart this time. His voice was cold and dismissive. Without any sympathy for her. Rose felt like a hand wrapped around her stomach and turned him. "She's nobody. Just a girl whose body I covet, have covet, but that comes to an end now."

"Please stop," Rose breathed softly, distraught at the words she was about to hear. She felt more tears follow.

"I have no further use for her."

It was brutal. Rose didn't know if she had ever felt such pain. It was worse than any sickness, any fear she had ever felt. It hurt like a thousand pinpricks on her skin, stabbing barbarically into her body again and again at every single stage.

His words were merciless and she wondered if he would have chosen them the same way if she had revealed her feelings to him?

Did she really mean nothing to him?

Was everything they had had a lie?

She felt like a different person.

This had to be a dream.

It was. She had yet to sleep and she would wake up in a moment to see that she had only been dreaming, but no matter how much she wished to wake up, she remained trapped in this nightmare.

She reached for her wrist and pinched the skin between her fingers, a last pathetic attempt to wake up again, but she found that everything she had just heard was reality.

She meant nothing to Aemond.

Not the slightest thing.

It was all a lie.

Dazed, she stumbled back.

She wanted to get out of here.

There was nothing more to hear. Anything more Aemond would say would only make her heart break further.

As if taken, she staggered along the corridor. She had no idea where she was going. She just wanted to get away from here. She would never be able to look him in the face again. She would not bear to be near him. In the worst case, she would even have to watch him float through the corridors with his new bride, looking down on her, his former whore.

For she seemed to have been nothing else to him.

She had given him everything of herself and he had taken everything from her.

She reached for the servants' quarters to get her things there, the sooner she would leave the better, but before she could touch the doorknob she felt a hand put over her mouth and something held in front of her nose.

She squealed slightly, trying to resist, but suddenly her surroundings went black and before she could react, everything was dark.

. . . .

"Let's have our fun with her first," she heard an unfamiliar voice, muffled, so near and so far.

"We've been instructed to kill her right away."

"We do, but the pay sucks," the unknown voice said again. A man's voice. Rose felt the cold, wet ground beneath her. Branches cracked and a gust of wind passed over her skin. "I want my fun."

Where was she?

What did happen?

Had they taken her out of the castle?

"Oh," came a surprised sound. "She's waking up."

I'm awake, you son of a bitch, Rose wanted to scream, but her head hurt so badly. What had happened? She remembered what Aemond had said, the memory of it brutal and without mercy, and then suddenly everything was dark.

"How nice. I like it when they get it when I get it for them."

Rose felt sick.

She forced herself to open her eyes. It was more difficult than she thought. Her eyelids were incredibly heavy, as if someone was squeezing them shut. She felt weak and powerless. Like a doll that you could do whatever you wanted with.

Then she felt someone grab her chin and she wrenched her eyes open.

At first the outline was blurry, then a man with a fat grin looked back at her.

"Hello, sweetie."

She knew this man. He was one of the men who had held her along with the Septa. What was he doing here? What was she doing here?

She looked around. She saw several men smiling at her. They were in a forest. Why was she in a forest? Just a few minutes ago, she was in the castle. There was no forest in King's Landing. Where were they? Where had these men taken her?

What was happening here?

"I know you," she breathed in a weak voice, and the man's grin grew even wider.

"Oh, she remembers me. How flattering," he laughed and the men around him joined in. There were four of them in all.

"Well how are we doing?"

Rose looked at him in irritation. "Why am I here?"

The blow to her face came suddenly and hard. She felt like her whole co9p was going to fly off.

"It's rude to answer a question with a question in return."

She felt blood in her mouth.

"Stop it you're damaging her," one of the men said reproachfully. "She's pretty."

"And as good as dead," the man who had hit her replied, annoyed, before turning back to her with a smile.

"So, how are you?"

Rose gulped. "Lousy," she said, and a laugh went through the ranks. The men were having a good laugh at her condition.

"Then we want you to feel better right away."

The man in front of her suddenly grabbed her by her legs and pulled her close. Rose squealed in fright as he squeezed between her legs.

"What are you going to do?"

The question was almost ridiculous; she knew exactly what he was up to.

But no one was responding to her.

He pushed her down with one hand, and no matter how hard she tried to resist, she didn't stand a chance against him.

"Ay, why do you get to start?," one of the men moaned indignantly and jumped forward.

"Because I'm the boss and I decide, so shut up." His voice boomed over their heads and it was enough to silence the other man. Rose looked at their faces in disgust. They all wanted the same thing.

Her.

Her fear crashed down on her without mercy.

Then the man between her legs looked at her.

"So, sweetheart, let's have some fun," he said, pushing up her dress.

"Don't touch me," Rose screamed, panic rising inside her. "I swear to you, I will return and kill every one of you."

The man above her looked at her in surprise before suddenly laughing. He laughed so loudly that his laughter echoed throughout the forest. It was a biting, and humiliating laugh.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

"How are you going to do that, girl, when you're already dead?"

His words made her realize that they weren't planning on just having fun with hers and then letting her go.

"Someone at the castle doesn't like you very much, sweetie."

Someone had given them the order to kill her ? Someone wanted them dead? Who had to hate her so much that they wanted her dead? No matter who Rose thought of, no one came to mind. The Septa was gone and everyone else had no reason to kill her. What relevance did she have? She was a nobody. She didn't know any big secrets, and she wasn't anyone of any importance. Killing her, or after worse, commissioning her killing, seemed so ridiculous.

"But don't worry. We'll give you some beautiful last moments in this world," the man said in a soothing voice, before tugging at her dress again, making her aware that if she didn't fight back now, she was doomed to die. It would be her last chance. He was rough, fumbling with his pants as he pushed her deeper into the mud. Rose looked around in panic for something to hit him with, and she almost gave up hope and accepted her fate, if she hadn't seen a sharp stone lying next to her at the last moment.

None of the men seemed to see what she saw and before anyone could react, she grabbed the stone and hit the man in the eye with the sharp edge over hers. The man screamed like a sow being speared and she took her chance and kicked him off her. Everyone was too shocked, so no one was quick to grab her when she got up and ran.

She ran obsessively, as fast as she could, not caring how the broken branches and sharp stones tore up her feet and left a trail of blood behind her.

"Catch her!," one of the men shouted and she heard them running after her. They were faster than her and she heard them getting closer and closer.

Rose didn't know where she was running, she was just running, hoping to outrun them, but when she suddenly came to an abyss, stunned at her lack of happiness, she realized that she was lost. There was no way out.

She would die tonight.

"There you are, you fucking cunt."

She turned around. All the men had arrived. They all had hostile expressions on their faces and grinned as they realized their hopeless situation.

"I will hurt you so much, sweetheart."

She believed him immediately.

But she wouldn't let it get that far.

There was a way out.

Just not what she had hoped for.

She turned around and looked into the abyss. The night was foggy, very cloudy and she didn't see what was happening below, but that wasn't important. If she hit the ground, she would die instantly in the best case scenario, and if she jumped into water, she would drown shortly after.

She didn't want to die.

But she would never endure what they planned to do to her only to die afterwards.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Come here, my sweet daughter."

The gentle voice from her dream suddenly reached her. Suddenly everything felt weightless and for a moment she felt born.

She remembered that dream but she understood nothing.

What did mean?

Maybe death wasn't the end.

Maybe it was the path to something better.

Maybe it was the peace she longed for.

She thought of Aemond's words and she wondered if he would be sad if he knew she was gone. Would he even know she was dead, or would her disappearance forever be a mystery?

Would he think a second time about her or would he forget her?

"Come to me."

Suddenly she felt the wind getting stronger. Confused, she opened her eyes and looked at the sky. She saw the clouds suddenly move faster. It looked like they were being stirred up, like someone was pushing them aside to make room for something else. For something bigger.

"What the hell," one of the men swore and suddenly Rose saw a figure in front of her.

First she saw an eye staring at her mercilessly, then sharp teeth, the thread of saliva and then red skin that at first looked like red stones before she realized what figure, what beast appeared there in front of her.

Warm air was blown towards her and she opened her eyes.

A dragon looked back at her, through cold and aggressive eyes, merciless eyes that stared down at her.

It wasn't the first dragon she had seen.

It wasn't the first dragon she'd been so close to either, but it was the first dragon she'd faced like this.

But it wasn't an unknown dragon.

She knew those red scales and that long neck.

She knew those eyes that looked at her as if she were the most pitiful creature in this realm.

Full of fear, her gaze wandered further up, knowing who would be looking at her there.

Her second encounter with him was no different than the first.

His gaze was cold, hard, hard-hearted and he stared down at her like she wasn't even worth breathing in his presence.

He was exactly as she remembered him.

Daemon Targaryen.

The Rogue Prince.

His gaze shifted to the men behind her and then he spoke the words every dragon rider had said at least once in their lives.

"Dracarys."

She felt the biting heat, she saw the dangerous red and the only thing she could do as the hot flood descended on her was to throw herself on the ground and hope that her death would be quick and painless.

Rose wondered wherever she ended up if she would see her mother again.

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momolady · 2 years ago

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Avi the Tiefling

Do you like modern monsters? Do you enjoy reading the childhood friends to lovers trope? Do you like good banter? Maybe do you often enjoy a red skinned tiefling? Well lucky you, this is the perfect story to enjoy during these hard times.

Female Reader x Male Monster ====================================

During high school you had to transfer due to your mother’s job. It was hard; you went from having a really close friend circle to having no one at all. You were a wallflower, a silent onlooker to everything happening in that new and strange land. You tried to make friends but it was awkward. You were pretty smart and a rumor got started that you’d do people’s homework for them. You got absorbed into a rather strange clique, made of some of the popular kids at school who were on the mean side. You were lonely and afraid so you sort of just fell into it.

Midway through this new school year you were at a breaking point. This supposed friend group of yours was taking advantage of your kindness, but you had been too afraid to step in and do anything about it. One day, you had broken down in one of the bathrooms, unaware that someone was hiding in one of the stalls behind you. You sobbed and cried, vented your frustrations to the terrified girl in the mirror, and left.

Later that same afternoon, as you were having lunch with your group, this tiefling appeared. You knew about him and heard rumors spread about him. His name was Avi and he had a reputation of being a wild animal.

He had messy, short black hair with two different shaped horns. One was corkscrew and straight up, the other curved outwards. He had deep burgundy skin with dark freckles along his cheeks and shoulders, but it was his eyes that were strange. They were wide almond shapes that always seemed on high alert. They gazed at you, making you shake to your core. They reminded you of a wild animal. He approached the table and sat down right next to you, shoving someone else out of the way.

“So, I heard you are a real smarty pants.” he grinned at you, leaning over across the table to block the others from you. “What sort of material are those kinds of pants made out of eh?”

“I uh-” You answered shakily. “I don’t know?”

Avi laughed, almost sounding maniacal. “It’s a joke, smarty pants. Get with it!” He slapped your back and inched in a bit closer. “So tell me, whatcha eating there?” He went on like this until lunch was over.

After that, he started appearing wherever you were, hanging around you, talking to you. He found the strangest reasons to talk to you. Whether it was about video games or cartoons, he always seemed excited to bring something up.

One of the guys of your ‘Friend group’ told him to “Fuck off, weirdo,”

The look in Avi’s eyes changed. They had always seemed wide and strange, but now they looked vicious. He snapped his neck around to look at the guy. “What’d you say?”

“I said, fuck off. You fucking weirdo.”

“How come?” Avi stepped away from you. “What’s it matter to you?”

The guy smirked back at his friends, you knew he was eager to push Avi around. “That’s our nerd. Get your own.”

Avi popped his neck and scoffed. “Oh I see. My mistake. I thought she was just some cute girl up for grabs. I didn't realize she was a nerd.”

Your guts churned but you remained silent. You ducked your head down, your eyes already brimming with tears.

Avi got up into the guy's face and grinned. “How about we fight over her.”

“What?” the guy huffed and others from the group began to join.

Avi’s grin grew and his eyes got wider. “You heard me. I’ll fight you for her. Unless, that is, you wanna just hand her off to me. It might be safer that way.” He tilted his head and popped his neck again.

“Just fuck off, you freak!” Avi was shoved back, but that didn’t bother him at all. Avi struck, clocking the guy in the jaw and starting a fight. Both were suspended for a week, but your friend group began avoiding you to get away from him.

“It’ll be okay,” Avi said one day. His face was bruised from the fight. There was even a cut along his forehead that would leave a scar. “I’ll take care of you, smarty pants.”

Something about this feral cat didn’t seem so feral anymore. “What do you mean?” You asked.

Avi looked at you with those strange eyes of his and he grinned. “What do you think it means?”

You sniffled and looked down at the floor. “Why’d you do that?”

“The fight? Isn’t it obvious?” Avi tilted his head to the side. “You were miserable, so it was worth it.”

You rubbed your eyes. “What?”

Avi shrugged as he folded a piece of paper this way and that. “That day you were crying in the bathroom, I was hiding in one of the stalls.”

“That was the girl’s bathroom!”

Avi shrugged. “Yeah, and?” He smirked at you. He inched in close and put his arm around you. “You ain’t got a thing to worry about, smarty pants. From now on, I’ll keep you safe. No one will use you like that again while I’m around.”

You ducked your head down and nodded. It felt nice to hear someone say they’d protect you. After how long, you felt so lonely and afraid in a crowd.

Ever since that day, he’s kept that promise. He became your best friend and was always by your side. Despite his reputation, he was really sweet and fun. He brought you out of your shell.

The two of you now share an apartment together, which you have done since college. Back then, Avi worked as a mechanic in order to pay for an apartment while you went to school. You’ve been working hard to pay back his kindness since then.

“Hey, smarty pants.” You looked up from your book to see Avi looking over the top of the chair at you. “What are you doing?”

“Reading, why?” You placed a bookmark into the seam and closed the book. “Are you bored or something?”

Avi smirked, “or something.”

You smirked and set your book aside, standing up as Avi stepped aside. “Well, what did you have in mind?”

Avi rubbed his hands together as his grin grew. “I was thinking we could go out for a bit. Just drive a little, maybe do some shopping. I just wanna get out for a little bit. We haven’t gone on one of our drives in a long time.”

“That could be fun. I was thinking we’d have a nice quiet day at home, but I suppose we can do that anytime.” You looked him up and down. “Is there something you’re wanting to do?”

Avi’s cheeks darkened. “No. I just wanted to hang out with you is all.”

You smiled at him. “Aww, well aren’t you cute?”

Avi glanced away, his smirk softening at the edges. “I have my moments, pants.”

You took hold of his hand and kissed his cheek. “Okay, let me get ready and we can head out.”

Avi grinned, tightening his hold on your hand. “Will you wear that cute red top I like?” His free hand tugged at the hem of your tee shirt.

You arched a brow. “You want me to look good for you?”

“Not that you don’t all the time, I just thought...I’d wear those pants you like on me!” Avi was blushing and floundering. It was so cute you could barely stand it. You kissed his cheek, standing on tiptoes to reach.

“I love you,” you murmured to him.

Avi sighed and relaxed. “I love you too.”

You got dressed and wore the red top he liked. It had a low cut neckline with criss crossed strands across the chest. Avi wore the pants you liked on him. He had such nice, long legs, and these pants really showed that off, including his small, cute butt.

“So, which way are we going?” You asked him.

“I dunno, let's find out.” You got into the car, which was an old model that Avi had completely rebuilt himself. Back during school he had started working on it, and the first time he drove it was when he picked you up for prom. He’d worked on it since then, making it something really nice and special.

That prom you had agreed to go together as friends, but before the night was over you and Avi were much more than that. You danced together, you left before prom was over, and drove all night until you passed out in the backseat.

“It’s such a nice day, it seems like a shame to just sit inside.” Avi looked so proud behind the wheel.

“You’re right, what was I thinking?” You chuckled. You placed your hand on his thigh, slowly rubbing up and down. Avi flinched and glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

“Whatcha doing, pants? Looking for quarters?”

You shrugged, slowly moving your hand further in. “What? You think I’m doing something?”

Avi looked down at his lap then back out at the road. “You’re up to no good. No good I tell ya.”

You scooted closer to him. “What, me?”

Avi bit his lip, trying to keep his focus on the road. His hips wiggled as your hand squeezed onto his thigh. He moaned softly in the back of his throat as your fingers kneaded into him. You kissed his neck slowly, feeling him tremble under your touch. Avi chuckled, turning to steal a quick kiss.

“When you said a cozy day at home, I thought you meant something else.” Avi rolled his hips, adjusting them to accommodate your advances.

You ran your fingers along the growing bulge in his pants. “I like you, what can I say?” You unzipped his pants. “Sometimes I just can’t keep my hands off you.”

Avi chewed on his bottom lip as you grabbed him through the fabric of his underwear. “Dammit, pants.”

You kissed his jaw and giggled. “What? No good?”

Avi’s wild eyes looked soft and sweet. People often said he had crazy eyes, but you knew what a kitten he really was. “Too good. You make me happy and horny. That’s dangerous.”

“You know exactly what to say.” You tugged down his underwear, pulling his cock out. You licked your palm and wrapped your fingers around him, jerking him gently as he continued to drive. His cock had this wonderful curve to it, and the glans were nice and wide at the top. You smiled sweetly at him as you stroked him, his pulse throbbing against your fingers.

“Whatcha thinking?” Avi moaned.

“Oh, I dunno.” You glanced down to his cock. “Lots of things.”

Avi swallowed. “I’d like to know, pants. Tell me.”

You bit your lip. “Well, for one, I think you’re very sexy right now. Also thinking about how much I want to make you come.”

Avi whistled. “You’re so sweet to think of me.”

You kissed his cheek then ducked your head down. You kissed his cock from head to base, dragging your tongue back up and he moaned. He put a hand on the back of your neck, kneading as you teased him.

“Ah! Fuck-” Avi snarled. “That’s my pants.”

You tease the tip with your tongue then pushed the tip between your lips. You sucked and slurped, tasting that first dribble of precum. You moaned against him, taking more of him into your mouth. Avi hissed, gripping his fingers around your neck tighter.

You bobbed your head slowly, taking your time with him. He throbbed against your tongue and you took the tip all the way to your throat. You choked, pulling up and slurping spit back into your mouth.

“You feel so good,” Avi pants.

You chuckled, stroking him as you leaned in to kiss him. “So do you, big boy.” You went back down, gobbling him up again. Avi’s moans and grunts filled your ears and you felt him make a sharp turn. Moments later, he pulled off the road and parked the car behind some trees.

You giggled as you lifted your head. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“I ain’t a young man anymore, I can’t focus when you do that to me.” He kissed you hungrily, rolling his tongue around in your mouth. He bit your neck and shoulder as his hand reached up under your shirt and unhooked your bra with ease.

“You could have fooled me, you’re acting like you did in high school.” You took off your bra and tossed it into the backseat.

“I didn’t know what I was doing in high school,” Avi’s long tail flicked behind him. He pushed his hair back from his face and looked down at your shirt. “That’s what makes this so much better.” He tugged the neckline of your shirt down so your breasts were exposed.

“Is this why you like this shirt?”

“Same reason you like my pants so much, pants.” He kicked off his pants entirely. “Now, take yours off.”

You lifted your hips and wiggled from your pants, tossing them to the floorboard. Avi pressed your back against the door and thrust his hand down inside your panties. He kissed you hard as his fingers found you wet and warm.

“Oh fuck, pants. Did sucking that cock turn you on this much?” He teased you.

You scoffed and tangled your fingers into his messy hair. “It always does.” You had grown a favor for it during college. Avi worked to afford the apartment while you went to school. You had started giving him blowjobs regularly as a way to thank him. To your surprise and his pleasure, you found a talent for it. Not to mention a deep appreciation for it. Who knew the shy wallflower would turn into this?

Avi kissed you so sweetly it almost took your breath away. “What was that?” You murmured.

“Thank you for loving a weirdo like me,” he murmured. “I know I’m not much to look at, and you’ve put up with me all these years. It still amazes me that you and I are like this.”

You kissed him again and wrapped your arms around him. “You’re what I want to look at. You’re my weirdo, always have been, always will be.” Your heart was beating so fast. “I love you, get over it.” You pushed him down onto the bench seat and climbed on top of him. His eyes grew wide in awe as he looked up at you.

“Oh my, pants, what are you going to do to me?” He tittered.

You smirked, easing down on top of him. You took his cock inside, both of you moaning as he went inside deep. That wonderful curve hit exactly where you needed it to and you threw your head back as you rode him. His hands wrapped around your hips, holding you tight as you moved. His tail curled up around your leg and was pulsing squeezes. His expression was pure bliss, lips parted, eyes focused upon you. His breath synched in rhythm with your movements, gasping and panting with each heavy thrust.

You pressed your hands to the roof of the car for more leverage, thrusting down upon him as that curve ground into you. You cried out, panting hard as cars drove by on the road. Maybe they could see you, maybe not.

“I’m gonna come!” Avi whimpered. “Oh fuck, oh fuck-”

You bent down, kissing him and biting his lip. He thrust upwards, slapping hard into your thighs. He snarled and moaned into your ear, making desperate sounds as his climax grew closer.

“I’m gonna come! I’m gonna come!” He repeated over and over into your ear.

You kissed him, moaning against his lips. “Right there! Right there! Oh fuck!” You cried out.

Avi flipped you over, hiking up your hips and entering you from behind, he went harder and faster this way, pressing himself deep inside you. You moaned into the seat, shaking as you felt yourself draw to the end.

“I’m coming I’m-” Avi’s voice choked off, his body twitched, his tail coiled tighter on your leg. He spasmed inside and your legs twitched. You stretched and kicked, crying out as the heat from him flowed into you. Your body arched and you struggled to keep your voice in check. Avi panted, slowly slouching down until he was laid right on top of you.

“That was so damned good,” he breathed.

You chuckled and rolled over. His face planted between your breasts. “That was. I still can’t feel my toes.”

Avi kissed you then glanced out the windows. “We should probably get out of here before this seems suspicious.” He tugged down his shirt. “Where’d my undies go.”

“Good question, what’d you do with mine.” You then flinched as you felt his come dripping down your thigh. “Do you mind cleaning up your mess?”

Avi chuckled, taking a napkin from the dashboard and wiping you up as you grabbed clothes from the back seat. “I really did leave a mess behind.” He kissed your ass then slipped his fingers up inside you. “A big mess.”

“Easy there,” you huffed. “I’m still-” You bit your lip, struggling as Avi continued to finger you. “Oh fuck!”

“I knew you had another one in there.” Avi moved his fingers inside you, his thumb caressing your clit.

“Fuck, fuck-” You cried out, trembling as another small climax pulsed through your body.

Avi chuckled in triumph, leaning down to lick you clean. His moans against your folds sent tremors through your spine. You could barely sit up straight after that.

Avi put his pants back on while you still held yours in your hand. “Let’s go on down a little ways and find a nice place to eat.”

“I wouldn’t mind a drink,” you said with a gulp.

Avi smiled dreamily at you. “I love you, pants.”

You leaned into his side, snuggling up to him on the seat. “I love you too.”

#exophilia #monster romance #monster love #monster fucker #tiefling #tiefling boyfriend #momolady monsters #my writing

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k4g3hika · 2 years ago

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RUNAWAY PRINCESS ━ multi part-imagine!

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: sit tight and be pretty, was what your parents always told you. follow the rules, and your life will run smoothly. but given the chance to run away with your forbidden lover, you just have to choose what makes you happy. even, if it puts either of your lives at stake.

genre: fluff

wc: 1.58k

note: medieval au! also there is a massive time jump :) and the final part. i'm not really proud of this, i'm sorry if you feel underwhelmed i haven't exactly been motivated lately.

part 1!

part 2!

Time doesn’t wait for anyone.

The story of Queen Y/N Carver and her unknown lover went down in history as nothing more than a rumour. A local fairytale that was whispered between townspeople, about a princess and her no-name lover, who refused to fight for their love and left her behind with an abusive prince.

However, there are different opinions on the ending of the story. The majority see the no-name herb grower as a loser, who didn’t have the balls to run away with the queen. And of course, the minority, who knew that the no-name herb grower actually made a sacrifice for the safety of his own family and the happiness of the princess.

You’d like to believe that you were part of the minority.

But alas, life wasn’t all about fairytales and lore. Not anymore. Now, princesses were raging teenagers who didn’t have servants accommodating to their every need and charming princes who saved them from dangerous dragons. No, not anymore.

Instead, princes were replaced by empty-headed jocks, and dragons have evolved into raging cheer bitches who had sticks up their asses.

You stand on the balcony of an empty room, away from the raging party going on downstairs. Grabbing your cigarette box from your skirt pocket and opening it up, you pick the last one from the sharp corner.

Of course, tonight had to be one for the books. As Bethany swore, this one was going to be one to remember!

At least, one to remember in your deep, dark, secret, murder book.

You wore a white lace dress to look like a princess from a fairytale book and everyone raved about how beautiful you looked. Your makeup, hair, and heels were also there to complete the costume, but of course, pretty things were only followed by jealous bitches.

Bethany Carson just had to be a jealous bitch and decided to ruin your night by spilling punch all over the front of your dress. It also didn’t help that she and the rest of her cheer goons were laughing their heads off, resulting in half of the party following their actions. After all that had happened, you really just wanted to go home. But of course, your dear friend Nancy claimed that it wasn’t ‘all that bad, and if anything, you looked like Carrie.

Carrie. A fucking girl with murder powers, who got pranked at prom with pig’s blood. That’s not very princessesy.

You wanted to punch Bethany. But of course, she was a hard one to fight, seeing as she has half of the basketball and cheer team following behind her like baby ducks, and, who can’t forget, her parents were core members of the PTA alongside yours. Why did your parents have to be such people-pleasing snobs?

After swallowing everything that just happened, you groan and lean your forehead on the palm of your hand. Why did tonight have to go so terrible? Couldn’t you just have one night where you were dressed beautifully for people to appreciate without losers completely ruining your night?

Hawkins never seems to change no matter how many times you leave and come back. It was simply wishful thinking that the people were going to become even decent over night.

Looking up at the moon, you notice how it was particularly bright tonight, it gleaming down and lightening up your face. Thank god you had one thing appreciating you tonight.

Wondering to yourself, you begin to remember how princesses made wishes to the moon. Which, at the time of being a young child, you thought it was stupid how much trust princesses would place on a ball so far away. But right now, on a full moon night, it seemed as close to you as it could ever be…so maybe tonight could finally be the night where you could whisper your greatest desire to her?

“Ugh, okay, hey…moon?” You look up, looking around your pocket for your lighter. Finally finding it, you push down the button, expecting a little ball of fire to come out. None. “Okay, wait hold on for a second, I just need to light this.”

Push, none.

“Oh, come on!”

Push, none.

“Jesus fucking-please!”

“Hey princess!” Looking around you, you notice that there was nothing but woods surrounding you. You begin to wonder where the voice even came from, but from not finding its origins, you continue your activities. “Princess! Down here!”

Finally, peering down onto the backyard, you notice a…leather-cladded boy? He held a grin on his face, shaking a shining object in his hand. You cock your eyebrow up, wondering what he was holding in his hand.

“What do you want?!”

“I heard your cursing from down here, your majesty, and can’t help but notice what you needed the most.” He pushed down the trigger of his lighter, revealing a bright light that you needed oh so much. Laughing at your awe, he pulled away from it, pointing it towards you. “You need it?”

“Yes! Yes, please!”

“Okay…um, how do you expect me to get up there?” You look around, taking notice of the tree brach that connected to the balcony where you stood.

“Can you climb trees?”

—

“That was, so much harder than I expected it to be.” He plops down onto the wood, brushing his hand on his pants and finally facing you. Your were surprised to say the least.

You couldn’t believe that this mysterious boy just climbed his way up a tree to just give you his lighter. Instantly, you were a bit suspicious. Did he want something else from you? There was an empty bedroom behind you and the music from the party was way too loud for anyone to hear your screams.

Then, he turned around fully, showing you the costume he sported for Halloween, making you realize that he was probably the least of your worries.

Besides his leather jacket that you actually found attractive, he wore a black shirt that was completely trashed in what looked like pumpkin guts? The sudden realization then pushed you to distinguish that the both of you were probably, most likely, in similar situations.

“What are you supposed to be?” You ask, politely accepting the lighter that he handed to you. His lips purse, looking a bit hurt at your question.

“Well, I came out the house loud and proud as the Headless Horseman. You know, with the pumpkin head and everything.”

Oh, so that’s why he’s drenched in that.

“Then, I came here to sell some…goods, and Mr. Jason Carver, King of Hawkins High!” he takes a breather, “Decides to ruin my night, and spill pumpkin all over me and smash my precious pumpkin head.”

Goods. You knew what goods were. Hawkins, though filled with innocent teenagers who could never do wrong, was full of adolescents who were afflicted with drugs and all things similar. What else was there to do in this stingy town?

Meanwhile, his facial expressions push you to laughter, even though you most likely should be attempting to comfort him. He just looked so funny, and it was purely coincidental that the both of your nights and costumes were ruined by prissy bitches.

“Well your majesty, I didn’t notice that you were messed up too. Punch?”

“Punch.” The both of you chuckle together, turning around to face the sky and bright moon. With him by your side, you felt as if the moon became even brighter, if possible. You haven’t even made your wish yet, but it seemed as if it knew what you wanted loud and clear.

“Damn, that sucks. Whoever did it was probably just jealous…um, you look nice.” At the corner of your eye, you saw him scratch his neck and a small smile grew on your face.

“Yeah, she came dressed as the same thing just in a lesser detailed dress. And, thanks pumpkin head, you…would’ve looked cool if you had the other piece of your costume.” The both of you laughed and turned to look at each other at the same time. “By the way, what’s your name? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before.”

“Really? Are you new in town?” He looked surprised, his eyes widening and his shaggy hair shaking while he bobs his head with surprise.

“Well…no? I kinda moved away then moved back, then moved away again and moved back. I know the same people from elementary, but haven’t really been paying attention to anyone else. So, what’s your name?”

“Ok, so I’m sure your friends would call me Hawkins local freak. The name’s Eddie Munson.” He took out his hand for you to shake and you looked down at it suspiciously.

The name Eddie sounded so familiar, but you just couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.

“Is your name short for Edward?” Eddie’s eyes lit up and he looked confused, before you raised your own hand and shook his.

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“I’m not sure, lucky guess?” Suddenly, you felt a spark in your chest and looked around you, getting a weird sensation of deja-vu.

“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself princess?”

You finally turn to him, making fateful eye-contact with Eddie. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of brown, and with the light of the moon, they somehow looked so deep and full of something you couldn’t exactly find.

Why does this moment feel familiar?

“Y/N L/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Princess Y/N.”

TAGS:

@crunchcake @buckwbarnz @bookobsessedfreak @eddiemunsonisveryhot

#eddie munson #stranger things s4 #stranger things season four #stranger things season 4 #stranger things vol 2 spoilers #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #joseph quinn #netflix #joseph quinn fanfiction #eddie munson x y/n

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thegirlwhomoanedwolf · 4 years ago

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On his knees

Klaus x Reader

( reader shows Klaus she can take control too)

Warnings: 18+, Dom reader, edging/denial, choking

That was the last straw (y/n) thought as she drove twenty plus over the speed limit towards her and Klaus’s mansion. Two days ago he had left to New Orleans without warning her and told her to “stay home like a good little pet, don’t want you getting hurt by the big boys,” before abruptly hanging up when she had called to confront him. How dare he insinuate she was weak. She was a powerful witch and just because she rarely used her talents didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of kicking ass. She was fed up with him treating her like she was less than and that ended tonight. As soon as the security system alerted her he was home the wave of anger came back at her full force. He was going to pay.

Klaus heard (y/n) pull into the driveway and could practically feel the anger coming off of her. His cock twitched having spent two days away, already needing to be Inside of her. He’d make her forget about his indiscretion with mind blowing sex like he usually did. As he heard her footsteps reach the front door he smiled ready to claim her as his like usual.

“ Niklaus!,” (y/n)s voice echoed through the large mansion as she angrily yelled for her lover. She stomped towards his art room and wasn’t disappointed when she found him there. Her heart raced as she saw his bare chest and black low hanging jeans covering a very prominent bulge.

“ hello love,” he smirked stepping away from his easel. He began to walk toward her seductively “I’ve missed you my pet.”

His cockiness pissed her off even more. (Y/n) glared at him an idea forming in her mind “ on your knees wolf,” she ordered sternly.

Klaus let out a loud laugh finding humor in her attempt to control him.

(Y/n) spoke louder as she held out her hand toward him magic flowing through her forcing him to the ground “ I said on your knees wolf.”

Klaus couldn’t believe what she had done. In all their years together she had never used her powers against him. He looked up at her a mix of emotions going through his head. He was angry she was controlling him yet extremely turned on by the display of her power. He wanted to get up and ravage her to show (y/n) who was really in charge. At the same time he wondered where she was going with this. His cock ached as he looked up at her speechless waiting for her next move. He was desperate to be inside of her.

She walked over to him and ran her hands through his curly hair, “oh niklaus you must stop treating me like I’m a powerless little girl.” Grabbing his hair she pulled his head back to make him look directly into her eyes “I allow you to take control of me because I like it.”

He was the most powerful being on the planet and she didn’t allow him to do anything he thought. Attempting to get up and overpower her he realized no matter how hard he tried he was frozen. This angered him even more.

“Be a good little pet and stop trying to break free,” she chided using his own words against him.

“ I am no ones pet,” he replied venomously. “ let me free now (y/n) your little game is over.”

(Y/n) stepped backwards removing her boots and socks ignoring him.

“ Free me at once (y/n)!”

“ not until I take what I want,” she replied casually and he watched as she pulled her top over her head freeing her breasts. He tried breaking free again the need to touch her even stronger than before.

“ let me touch touch you,” he said gently trying to gain his freedom by applealing to her sensitive nature.

(Y/n) unzipped her jeans and pulled them off throwing them to the side and smiled seeing how helpless Klaus looked. She felt him try to fight against her magical restraints and knew how badly he wanted her which made all of this even better. “ fine you can touch me.” Klaus went to speed toward her only to realize she hadn’t freed him.

Frustrated in more ways than one he irritatedly huffed “ you said I could touch you.”

Walking over to him she kneeled and pressed her breasts against him feeling him tense up. Her face only an inch away from his she wrapped both hands in his hair and moved her lips to his. They both moaned into the kiss and the friction caused by her pushing her body completely flush to his. He tried to take over the kiss with his tongue and she pulled away completely.

“Please (y/n) I beg of you, I need you.” He couldn’t take it anymore he would grovel if that’s what it took. She stood back up with her core directly in front of his face. His mouth watered smelling her arousal.

“ I needed you when you left without notice,” she slowly slid her hand into her panties as his eyes followed. He watched as her hand moved underneath the lace fabric. “ I had to take care of my self and my hand isn’t nearly as skilled as your mouth,” she sighed.

“ Then let me taste you,” he offered pleading with his eyes.

(Y/n) removed her hand from underneath the fabric and brushed her soaked fingers against his lips. Her insides tightened as she watched him lick his lips a growl leaving them.

“ do you want more? ”

“ I want to devour you,” he replied eyes glowing gold the beast in him coming forth.

He watched as she stepped out of the lace in response and moved herself so close to him he could almost reach her with his mouth. Wrapping a hand in his hair she spoke “ I will let you move your head but you will obey my orders. Understand?.”

“ whatever you want my love.” He replied giving in to her desires.

“ kiss me slowly, show me how sorry you are, show me how much you want me.”

Klaus moved his head forward slowly and gently kissed her most sensitive spot. He kissed her again putting his passion into it and enjoyed the sounds she was already starting to make. He twirled his tongue around her and felt her knees began to buckle as she tried to hold herself up.

“harder.” (y/n) whispered quickly needing even more.

As Klaus applied more pressure he felt her begin to shake and found his body pressed against the floor. (Y/n) crawled onto his face and ground herself down on his mouth. She reached one arm back and rubbed him over his jeans.

“ oh yes (y/n),” he groaned finally being touched where he so desperately needed.

She unzipped his jeans and pulled out his large member stroking it firmly as she continued to grind down onto his face.

“ do you want to be inside of me?”

“ more than anything love,” he pleaded.

(Y/n) climbed off of his face which was now glistening and worked her way down his body kissing as she went. When she reached his lower stomach she sat back and pulled his jeans off leaving him completely naked in front of her. She went back to kissing his lower abdomen and he sighed as she licked near his member. Grabbing him with her small hand she looked into his eyes and wrapped her mouth around his cock humming in approval of how good he felt. He was a fearless warrior yet a romantic and his cock was the same. It was big and hard as steel yet velvety soft in her mouth.

As her need became too strong she pulled away his cock leaving her mouth with a loud ‘pop’. (Y/n) straddled him resting her palms against his strong chest and teased the both of them by rubbing herself up and down him without letting him enter.

Grabbing his cock she placed it at her entrance “ I’m going to fuck you but you aren’t allowed to cum until I say you can.”

Klaus was going to protest but all other thoughts were lost as he felt her tightness slowly sink down on him. They moaned in unison when he was as deep as she could take him. He looked up admiring her as she began to slowly lift herself up and down on his member. He wanted to touch her so badly but watched as her hand reached down and played with her clit.

His eyes rolled as he felt her already start to tighten around him. She picked up her pace bouncing on his cock even more forcefully.

“ oh yes,” she screamed getting closer to her orgasm.

Klaus needed release so badly. “ can I come with you (y/n) ?”

“ no,” she moaned before trembling around him crying out his name. He used all of his willpower to hold back his orgasm even though he wanted nothing more than to cum with her.

(Y/n) stilled breathing heavily after her orgasm resting her body against his and kissed him their tongues entertwining. Finally regaining the energy she sat up and began to move her hips again.

“ tell me wolf do you like it when I take control?” She asked as she slowly bounced on his large cock. Trying to focus his energy on not cumming Klaus didn’t respond.

(Y/n) wrapped her hand around his throat stopping her movements completely, “ I asked do you like when I take control?”

Klaus looked at her knowing he had truly met his match. “ yes.”

With her hand still wrapped around his throat she used it to balance as she leaned down to kiss him as her hips began to move again. Sitting back up she planted her feet on the floor leaning back to give him a fill view of her body. Her breasts bounced as she rode him and he watched as her pussy stretched around him with each thrust.

When her hand went to her clit he spoke, “can I cum with you love?”

“Not yet wolf.” She responded focusing on her pleasure.

He felt her begin to tense around him and didn’t know if he could hold it off this time.

“ I don’t know if I can stop it this time (y/n),” he said strained already trying his hardest to fight it wanting to please her.

“ I want to hear you beg for it,” he smiled hearing her repeat the words he said to her so often.

“ please (y/n) let me cum.” He begged.

She moaned loudly almost there, “ no.”

“ fuck love,” he shut his eyes concentrating on holding off, “ I’m begging you please let me cum, I’ll do anything you want, you’re so tight I can’t take it anymore.”

His words sent (y/n) over the edge and she cried out “ yes, yes, yes, your cock feels so good Klaus, please cum for me.”

Klaus growled loudly his fangs dropping as she milked him with her orgasm. His vision went black and he would have thought someone snapped his neck if it weren’t for the fact he could hear (y/n) moan above him and feel her still pulsing around him.

When his vision returned Klaus looked at (y/n) amazed. He wrapped his arm around her finally free and pulled her to him lifting her from the cold floor and walking them to their large bed upstairs.

He kissed her and laughed “ you made me cum so hard I lost my sight.”

She giggled in response, “ now you see why I let you take control so much.”

He looked at her amused , “ well I might have to let you take control of me more often.”

She looked at him cockily , “ well I think tonight proved I can take control whenever I want. Remember that when you think I can’t handle the big boys.”

He snuggled closer to her, “ I’m sorry for acting that way (y/n).” He pressed his hardening member into her thigh. “ I think there’s a big boy right here you could handle again.”

#vampire diaries #vampire diaries imagine #vampire diaries smut #the originals #the originals smut #the originals imagine #klaus mikealson x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus x reader smut #klaus smut #klaus mikaelson smut #klaus mikaelson

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jiejie-eonni-onee-sama · 3 years ago

Text

We’re in heaven..

For the darling @fandoms-are-my-friends-1321 💖📖🦋

Hope you’ll enjoy the story!

Baby, you're all that I want.

When you're lyin' here in my arms,

I'm findin' it hard to believe

We're in heaven.

And love is all that I need

And I found it there in your heart.

Isn't it too hard to see?

We're in heaven.

Bryan Adams - Heaven

In his bed, Hugo tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Shaking and sweating, he could not help but think about his days when he served the S.S.

For him, serving those monsters in shining uniforms was the worst period of his life. You can imagine how delighted he was when he murdered all those 13 S.S officers before he got caught.

Tortured, mocked, and jailed, he endured all those sufferings until the Basterds set him free.

However, all his nights were plagued by terrifying nightmares. He felt the bite of the whip on his skin, the freezing slap of the cold water on his body.

"Hugo?"

Her voice woke him up. He opened his eyes and turned to see (Y/N), who looked at him with questioning eyes.

(Y/N) (L/N), his silver lining in this dark world. The woman joined the Basterds as a spy and quickly get along with those misfits.

Besides, she was the only person who managed to get close to him.

Honestly, it was not too hard for him. Since their first meeting, the deserter felt appeased when she was by his side. Donny even said he saw Hugo blushing!

Anyhow, they slowly bond together before being an official couple. Even if Stiglitz kept his stern appearance, his comrades noticed that he was less tensed when his lover was nearby.

And yet, he still suffered from those ordeals every night.

He managed to smile:

"Sorry to wake you up, Liebling. There is nothing to worry about..."

"Really? You told me the same excuse yesterday and the day before..."

She sighed.

"Hugo, please: would you explain to me what's going on?"

The soldier stayed quiet before muttering:

"It's not easy for me..."

"Try your best."

Resigned, Hugo told the truth:

"I can't help but think about all this time I spent in the Wehrmacht. Every time I close my eyes, I relive all the tortures I have been through after my arrest. I try to chase them away, but my memories always come back to haunt me..."

He shrugged.

"But I don't want to bother you with my problems. You struggle with your troubles already..."

Her soft hand gently stroke his cheek.

"It's okay, Hugo. There is nothing to be ashamed of: you only did what mattered for you. Besides, you were here when I needed the most..."

"It is the least I can do..."

She kissed him.

"Have no fear, darling. All those things are over now. Just have some rest!"

Nodding, Hugo laid down in bed, turning his back on his lover.

At this moment, she saw the scars on his back: each white line was the stigmata of whiplashes. The very essence of the cruelty of the Nazi regime printed on his body forever.

Slowly approaching her lover, (Y/N) let her fingers lightly trace the scars. Then, she pressed her lips against the calloused skin and kissed each wound.

Feeling her delicate mouth against his skin made Hugo sigh with ease: (Y/N)'s lips were the most efficient balm he ever knew. However, the more he felt her kisses on his scars, the more he sensed a burning desire burning his chest. This woman will be the death of him!

When she reached the scars on his lower back, he struggled to stifle a moan of pleasure.

Excited by this gently provocative little game, Hugo turned around and pinned down his lover on the mattress with a hungry smile.

"Naughty little girl. Teasing the Big Bad Wolf like this is very dangerous!"

(Y/N) smirked.

"But I live for danger, darling..."

"That's my girl!" he grinned before pressing his lips against hers.

They feverishly kissed each other as they let their hands caressing each other's bodies. Then, the pair quickly took off their clothes, revealing their bare skins in the moonlight.

Hugo looked at (Y/N) with amazement:

"Du bist so schön, mein Schatz!" (You're so beautiful, my darling!) he muttered as he traced her curves with his fingers.

"My handsome warrior..." she muttered as she touched his muscular chest.

With a sly grin on his face, the soldier kissed her once again before letting his mouth going down on her body, making (Y/N) shiver with pleasure.

While peppering kisses on her body, Hugo noticed a scar on her abdomen. He remembered when she got this wound: a few months ago, they get attacked by a Nazi patrol. In the middle of the fight, one of the German soldiers tried to stab the woman but only gave her a deep scratch.

She was a tough woman: nothing could bring her down. Yet, Stiglitz remembered this feeling of dread when he saw the blood staining her clothes. He would never forgive himself if he lost the only woman he loved.

But here they were, tangled in the bedsheets and making love. What could he wish more?

Tracing down her body with his lips, he started to tease her womanhood with his tongue.

Moaning with desire, (Y/N) clutched the bed sheets while enjoying this moment: only Hugo could make her feel such bliss. Besides, she always felt safe in his strong arms: they were like a shield against the cruelty of this world. And God knows she needed one.

Meanwhile, the German deserter stopped his teasing and faced her again.

He asked her with a soft voice:

"Would you let me in?"

Stroking his cheek, she muttered with a mischievous smile:

"I will always let you in, mein Liebe."

"I love when you speak German..." Hugo smirked before he kissed (Y/N) again.

Then, he slowly penetrated her, letting his lover adjusting herself to his presence.

The German felt her arms gently held him, like a caress. Her embrace felt like a healing wave through Hugo's body. Every time she hugged him, he knew nothing wrong could happen. It was like heaven on Earth to him.

He began thrusting into her, gently rolling his hips against hers.

(Y/N) sighed with pleasure as she felt him inside of her and appreciated his gentleness towards her.

Usually, they had rough sex sessions when they had intimate moments as if they will die tomorrow.

But tonight, all was different: they both needed to tend their wounds, to feel the presence of each other.

As his poundings became faster, the two lovers held each other tightly, enjoying the touch of their skins.

She stroked the scars on his back, slightly scratching it when a wave of pleasure hit her to the core.

Their love-making session ended when they reached the seventh heaven in a last moan of pleasure.

Hugo withdrew from her, then laid next to (Y/N) and held her close to his chest.

She softly sighed as she nested her head in the crook of his neck, relaxing.

Her lover gently kissed the top of her head while muttering:

"Thank you..."

(Y/N) looked at him with curiosity:

"What for?"

"For being here."

She gently smiled as she gave him a peck on his lips:

"And thank you for trusting me."

"Always, my love. Always..."

And as they fell asleep, Hugo and (Y/N) never let go of each other. After all, when they were in the arms of the loved one, it felt like being in heaven, even if it was just for a moment.

When the world went crazy, the soldier and the spy remember that each scar will heal, as long as they have each other...

Thanks for the reading!

I really hope that you enjoyed the story!

I can’t wait to see your requests !

See you later and stay safe! 😘🥰😍😷

#requests #inglourious basterds #hugo stiglitz #til schweiger #cate blanchett #tw: smut

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ggukkiereads · 4 years ago

Note

do you know of any jungkook x reader x jin or maybe even jungkook x reader x taehyung love triangle fics

Thank you 🖤🖤

🌷 Hello, anon! Please check the NAVI for available fic recs. There was an ask for TaeKook love triangle/smut before and I update it every now and then.

I’ve read just a few fics for jin x reader x jk. Here’s what I remember and most are pwps (meaning not a love triangle).

Jungkook x Reader x Seokjin

Love Triangle (or something similar, I left notes on some fics

Threesome

MMF Smutty Threesome or Poly

Aperitivo @bangtanbetchfics

one shot | 5k | vacation au, chef au (pastry chefs), smut, pwp

on the heels of a breakup, you fall hopelessly in lust with two pastry chefs on your vacation in venice.

Under Cover @cinnaminsvga

one shot | 5.4k | supernatural au, vampire jungkook, siren seokjin, pwp

the company banquets that your family loves to host are often drearier than you would like them to be. lucky for you, your bodyguards have the perfect solution: why don’t you play a little game with them?

Hittin Her Hard by foreverpark [ao3]

sequel to Hittin Her Hay (read this first) | 12.2k | pwp

Your boyfriend (and yeehaw extraordinaire), Jeongguk, introduces you to his best friend, Seokjin, all while he proves there are more things to do atop a horse than just ride.

🌷 ggukkienote: so I adore author’s pwp, just sinfully good like douse yourself with holy water kind of filthy which I mentioned here

Lunacy @jincherie

series [2/?] | 15.7k+ | abo dynamics, werewolf au, supernatural au, urban fantasy, poly, smut, angst

Wolves mate for life, and wolves are almost exclusively monogamous. It's rare for a wolf to have a human mate, and even more unheard of for a wolf to have more than one mate. Unfortunately for you, an incident at this party lands you in the middle of every exception there could possibly be.

Love Triangle

A Lovely Little Mess @justimajin - Seokjin-centric, feat Jungkook

series [10/10] |31.k | Pregnancy AU, Unplanned Pregnancy, Friends to Lovers, Jungkook is reader’s ex, angst, fluff

Break-ups aren’t easy - you knew this way too well, however this was a break-up that was much harder to shake off then a normal one, all because of one little reason…

Home Run @jinned

one shot | 3.5k | action, fluff, crack, baseball player au, stadium staff!reader

as seokjin’s career nears its peak, he comes face to face with his greatest rival yet: the un-strikeable jeon jungkook. seokjin is close to being the first person to strike out this up and comer newbie, until he’s distracted by one of the stadium’s cotton candy selling girls. who will she leave with?

🌷 ggukkienote: the dialogues are just JinKook all throughout but it was so funny how they’re bickering and fighting over YN. So a different kind of love triangle, I guess! This is fun 😉

Lock & Key @farfromsugafanfic - Jungkook-centric

one shot | 6.6k | Bestfriend AU, semi-love triangle (Seokjin likes OC and Jungkook is all sulky), fluff, angst

When Jungkook ditches you on your birthday, your friendship looks like it’s about to crumble. Your friend group becomes tired of your bickering and decides to take the matter into their own hands. Somehow, you and Jungkook find yourselves handcuffed together.

“Say It” drabble @hayjeon - Jungkook-centric

drabble | 1.3k | married to Seokjin, affair with Bodyguard Jungkook, pwp but kind of angsty

🌷 ggukkienote: short drabble but it’s really good. it’s hot but then it’s also angsty. no appearance of seokjin.

Not Just Friends @taecalikook - Jungkook-centric

one shot | 24k | Fuckboy AU, Friends to Lovers, fluff, angst, crack, semi-love triangle

Befriending the fuckboy with devilishly handsome face and emotional capacity of a pea is not exactly your choice, especially when you met him when you were in fifth grade, attracted for the unhealthy vermillion shaded face of the nerd he was that fateful day. So is Jungkook, as he is already putting strictly platonic label on your forehead and calls it a day. But it is only a matter of time before everything changes, and it only takes a frat party, lots of booze and… a certain Kim Seokjin.

🌷 ggukkienote: OC crushes on Jin and bestfriend Jungkook crush-blocks. I remember the roommate (like OC thought there was something between her roommate and JK)

Of Stardust and Spacetime @thedefinitionofbts

series [8/8] | 31k | Sci-Fi, Star-crossed (like literally different universe) |

On clear nights he looks up at the sky, and he can still see you. He can see the image of you transcending alternate universes tied together by iridescent ribbons, passing through the iron cores of distant stars, and sliding across Orion’s belt to meet him in that magical place between the stratums of space and time.

🌷 ggukkienote: one of my favorite writers whose fics are always beautifully written and I always get so affected by the story. 💕

Raindrops @jiminiethot - Jungkook-centric

one shot | 7.4k | exes AU, camping trip, boyfriend Seokjin is jealous of Jungkook (the ex), smut

🌷 ggukkienote: Seokjin is kind of mean here 😢

posted: 2021 April 10

#asks #anon #jinkook x reader #seokjin x reader #jungkook x reader #seokjin smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fic recs #seokjin fic recs #ggukkiereadingcollection

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xlovelyyoongix · 4 years ago

Text

wedding dress | myg

*I do not own this gif*

summary: it didn't matter how much you loved yoongi, you were still obligated to take another man’s hand in marriage, and sadly, Yoongi had to watch.

pairing: yoongi x f. reader. 18+

word count: 3674

genre: Vanilla smut, fluff, angst, (sad boy Yoongi) -gosh, why do I always put my mans through such a hard time-

warnings: penetrative sex (literally the whole first part of the fic is vanilla smut) , adultery (but not what you think), jealousy, and cursing. (if you notice anything else I should add as a warning, please let me know)

a/n: I literally got this idea after listening to Taeyang's song Wedding Dress for the billionth time. If you've never heard that song..... Wtf, how have you never heard of Wedding Dress? It's such a k-pop classic, and you should listen to it while reading this, or listen to it before reading this... or may listen to it after if you're anything like me and struggle with multitasking *laughs awkwardly*.😅 Ummm, I'v rambled long enough, enjoy. 😊

"Fuck~" Yoongi's throaty moan hisses into the shell of your ear. "I l-love you." His fingers intertwining with your very own as his hips thrust in and out of your sopping core, fucking you into the hotel mattress. "I love you so much,__" Sweat building across his porcelain skin, dumpling cheeks, a misty pink along with onyx orbs mixed with the sensation of infatuation and sexual desire.

"Y...Yoon..." You don't have the strength to finish his name as waves of pleasure ripple throughout your body. "I-I love y-you, too" Your exhausted voice speaks in a whimper, squeezing onto his hands as a euphoric buildup tightens within your abdomen. "C-close." Your lips quiver, legs tightening around Yoongi's waist, pulling him in closer.

"I-I know..." Yoongi's muscles start to weaken as your soaking walls begin to clench around his throbbing dick, teasing your nearing release. "You feel so good~" His mouth finds a place on your neck, nibbling and kissing the sensitive spots of your soft flesh. "Will you be a good girl and cum for me?" He smirks into the curve of your neck.

With your brows creasing together, lashes fluttering like butterfly wings and thighs quivering around Yoongi's waist, you were absolutely positive the steady buildup within your core would explode at any moment. "Y-yes." was all you could manage to muster.

"Good." Using his last ounce of strength, Yoongi repositions his hips at an angle he knew would send you to heaven. His length reaches deeper, scraping across your spongy surface and slamming into the moist wall of your cervix.

"Shhhhit!" Your head knocks, nails digging into the skin of Yoongi's back. "You. Feel. So. Good. Don't. Stop." You whimper between the beat of Yoongi slamming into you, causing the headboard to aggressively bang into the wall. "G-gonna c-cum- AH!" With tears in your eyes, colors burst into your vision as your body explodes into a flatline of bliss.

Slamming into you with one final thrust, your walls immediately tighten around Yoongi's girth. "FUCK!" Clamping his eyes shut, the rubber band feeling snaps within his core, releasing his hot strips of cum into the tip of the condom. With his tired body collapsing into the spot beside you, Yoongi is quick to dispose of the condom into the trashbin beside the mattress.

The two of you searching for air as you gaze into each other's eyes, lost in the paradise of love. You loved him, you truly loved Min Yoongi, and no man could ever capture your heart the way he has.

You part your lips to speak, but the loud buzzing of your alarm interrupts you, signaling that the final hour was close at hand. You bit into your lip anxiously as you put a regretful silence to the ringing.

Yoongi's nostrils release a sigh. "You don't have to do this." His tender hand reaching out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Please don't do this." His once husk voice, now dipping in anguish.

"Yoongi..." You whisper his name in sorrow, witnessing the sadness within his broken eyes. God, how you wish you could give in, to be able to stay in his arms forever. To run away from all your family ties and responsibilities to be with the love of your life. Sadly, you knew it was nothing more than a fantasy, and there was no turning back. "I love you so much... b-but."

"Tch!" Yoongi smacks his teeth with a grunt, dismissing your further statement. He pulls himself from the mattress, gathering his clothes that were scattered across the floor. "For once in your life,__, can't you make a decision for yourself and not give a damn what your family thinks?" Yoongi spits back, sliding his legs into his jeans.

Frustrated that Yoongi would choose now of all times to have this conversation with you, you roll your eyes with attitude. "For the thousandth time, Yoongi," You yank yourself up in bed, pulling your shirt over your head. "there isn't anything I can do!" Your hands slap into the comforter out of aggravation.

"Yes, there is." Yoongi shakes his head, tossing his shirt over his body. "You could not marry him. That's what you could do." He snaps back. "If you really love me, you would just leave with me."

Your swollen lips tighten into a line, nostrils flaring. "Don't do that... you know I love you, Yoongi." You're disappointed at the fact he would even throw that in your face at a time like this.

Yoongi's thick brows furrow together, provokingly. "And yet, you're marrying another man." He shrugs his shoulders a-matter-a-factly. "Do you think I'm just gonna sneak around and climb into your bedroom window at night, fucking you while your husband is in the other room, huh?"

Frustrated by your lover's choice of words, your fingers rub at your temples, hoping to relieve the stress. "You knew this would happen...you knew I was arranged to be married. This is what you signed up for-..."

"BULLSHIT!" Yoongi's harsh voice challenges back. He took a moment to catch himself, never being the type to raise his voice, especially at you. He inhales a breath before releasing it slowly. "You said you would find a way out of it, __. That you wouldn't marry him." His jet eyes cut to yours once again.

"I said, I would TRY to find a way out of this marriage. I never promised you that I would." You couldn't believe the two of you were fighting at a time like this. You'd rather spend your last moments as a free woman, wrapped in Yoongi’s embrace instead of arguing over something that can't be controlled. "And I did try! I tried everything I possibly could, but my parents need me to marry him. There isn't any other way..." Your voice starts to crack as the emotions ripple throughout your body. "T-this is hard on me, too, ya know." You break, a tear slipping down the round of your cheek as you remember in 3 hours, you'll be married to a man you barely knew.

Yoongi was silent, the hands at his sides balling into fists as he attempted to gather his thoughts and emotions.

Opening your mouth to console your lover, you're interrupted by a knock on the door. You flinch at the sound, afraid that someone would catch Yoongi in your bedroom, which would ruin the entire plan your family had in place for today.

"__, it's me, Alex." A female voice speaks from the other side.

You release a sigh of relief in hearing your best friend's voice. "Come in, Alex." You announce, straightening yourself in bed.

You hear the living room door creak open, soon the slender frame of your best friend steps into your bedroom. Her black hair styled in a neat top bun, natural makeup designed across her honey face, and carrying her maid of honor dress across her arms. "Jungkook is keeping guard of the hallways, making sure no one sees Yoongi leaving the room." She sends a nod towards the male, signaling it was his time to exit.

"Fine." Was all Yoongi could manage to say as he gathered the rest of his belongings.

Your eyes follow his every move, somberly. "Y-Yoongi, I ..." Your heart aches, knowing this would be the last time you'll see Yoongi as a free woman. You want to hold him, kiss him, tell him that no matter what happens, he will be the only man that will ever reside in your heart.

Pretending not to hear you, Yoongi brushes past you as if you didn't exist, heading out the door. "I'll see you at the wedding," He says before leaving, never once looking back. He didn't have the strength to.

The aching in your chest tightens, and your throat becomes rasp, warm tears streaming from your eyes. You hated this. Absolutely hated this, the fact you were getting married to a stranger, but mostly, the fact that you were the cause of your lover's pain. How could you possibly manage the stress of it all?

"Oh no,__. Don't cry." Alex whimpers in a pout, witnessing her best friend's dismay.

Taking a breath, you rub the tears from your eyes, gathering your thoughts. You didn't have time to think, or feel emotion. Today was about business, and no matter how much you desperately wanted to chase after your lover to aid his wounded heart, you had an obligation to your family that needed to be fulfilled. "I'll be alright." You wipe your nose with the back of your sleeve. "Let's get ready for the wedding."

Stepping into the chapel, raven-hair freshly washed, bowtie neatly in place around his white collar and a sleek black suit fitting around his frame, Yoongi chewed the inside of his lip anxiously. Observing the sea of people that call themself your family, all dressed in the most elegant fashion money could buy as they sit in pews of the church, gossiping amongst each other.

It was no secret that Yoongi despised your family, not only because of their petty political ties but because they were the ones responsible for this mess. Marrying you off to a man twice your age for their own powerful gain. "Fuckin' rich people." He mutters to himself.

"Mr.Min, please get into position. The ceremony will begin shortly." One of the ushers pats Yoongi on the shoulder.

"Sure," He responds dryly, immediately regretting ever agreeing to be a part of the damn wedding in the first place.

Making his way through the sea of people, Yoongi overhears a conversation that makes his ears burn.

"Oh, isn't __ just the sweetest girl!" The elderly woman brags to her circle of friends. "My son, Andrew, promised me, grandchildren, as soon as the honeymoon is over." She giggles cheerfully. "I can't believe I'll finally get to be a grandmother!" Her smile from ear to ear.

The very thought of a man touching you, loving you, and fucking a baby into you causes Yoongi's stomach to twist in disgust. Even though you were always promised to another, Yoongi thought that by the grace of God, you'd somehow end up with his last name. "I'll need a drink after this." He mumbles to himself, taking a seat on the white piano bench, cracking his knuckles to prepare for his performance.

Time passes, and Andrew makes his way into the Chapple. His brown hair slick back, hazel eyes shimmering under the crystal lights, as his slender white suit fits around him handsomely. For being an older gentleman, Andrew was indeed a sight for sore eyes; however, Yoongi knew a man like that could never be your cup of tea.

The moment Andrew takes his place at the altar, the musical director signals Yoongi to start. His jet orbs roll callously, as his regretful fingers begin to dance across the keys of the grand piano. A part of Yoongi wondered, if he stopped playing and if the church didn't have any music, would that be enough to stop the wedding? Would that buy him enough time to find you, whisking you away in his broken-down car? "Tch.." Yoongi sucks in a breath. "As if that could happen." He mumbles, bringing himself back to reality.

Yoongi's eyes spot Alex in her maid of honor dress walking down the aisle with Jungkook at her side, the two split off as they make their way to the altar.

The moment that everyone is in place, the music director signals Yoongi to halt the piano. Yoongi's fingers come to a stop.

The wooden chapel doors creak open again. Your body steps out, sheer veil concealing your precious face, the sweetheart chest of the white wedding dress supports your breast elegantly, torso hugging into your shapely curves as the rest of your dress puffs out into a classic ball gown. Yoongi's lips hang ajar in disbelief, inhaling the essence of your beauty.

The music director signals him to play again.

His fingers dancing across the keys creating a happy tune despite the anguish pooling within his soul. Every step you took down the aisle, Yoongi felt a blow to his chest, as if his heart was being yanked from its strings. He immediately regrets getting upset with you in the last moments you had together, not giving you the proper goodbye you deserved. "I love you." He whispers into the air for no one but himself to hear.

Before taking your final step at the altar, your saddened eyes connect with Yoongi's onyx ones. You never thought you'd see the day Yoongi would ever wear a suit. You remember him expressing his hate for fancy clothing, explaining that they made him uncomfortable, how he'd rather be in a pair of sweats and a baggy T-shirt. Your lips curl with a giggle at the memory, the only thing bringing you happiness at that moment. "I love you, Yoongi." You whisper as the aching in your chest cried out for him.

Andrew interrupts your thoughts with a loud cough, signaling you to finally take your place at the altar.

"O-Oh, right." You snap back to reality, lifting your dress to waltz up the step, taking your place in front of Andrew. Even though the man you would soon call your husband was now standing before you, you couldn't help but keep your eyes on the real love of your life, Yoongi.

"Let us begin in prayer." The music stops, and the priest standing between the two of you bows his head to speak the prayer. Of course, you aren't listening, his holy words slipping in one ear and out the other as you recall all the moments you've spent with Yoongi. Remembering the times he made you laugh, the times he dried your tears, how his beautiful hands would touch you as if you were the most delicate flower, how he'd make love to you. God, you wish Yoongi was the man standing in front of you, taking your hand in marriage.

"For once in your life,__, can't you make a decision for yourself and not give a damn what your family thinks?"

The words Yoongi fought back at you this morning, begin to replay in your mind. With regretful eyes, you glance over at your mother and father in the front row. Your mother with the biggest smile on her face and your father with broad shoulders, proud.

You can't falter now. You were doing this for your family. There was no turning back...right?

"I do." Andrew's vow interrupts your thoughts. His eyes shining, looking into you with admiration. Unlike yourself, Andrew wanted this wedding. He knew from the very moment he first laid eyes on you, he’d have you for a wife. So, using his power, he convinced your father for your hand in marriage, and in return, Andrew would fulfill his promise by tripling the profit of your father's company, leaving you without a say in the matter.

"And do you,__, take Andrew Mathew, to be your lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold, threw sickness and in health, as long as you both shall live?" The priest asks you, thick holy bible in hand.

Your heart drops, hands tightly gripping onto the fabric of your wedding dress. "I...I ah..." Your lips quiver and your throat grows dry. You don't want to marry Andrew. You don't want to start a life with someone you barely even knew. You wanted Yoongi. "Father, I..." You lift the veil from your face, your distressed eyes connecting with your father's confused ones. It was now or never. "Father, I'm so sorry, but I can't do this."

The entire congregation gasps in disbelief, gossip and whispers echo throughout the Chapple.

Yoongi's hooded eyes widened in shock at your words. Taking a stand from his seat, his vision is glued to you, curious to what your next move would be.

"W-wait, wait, wait..." Andrew chuckles, rubbing the stress away from his temples. "Your father promised I would be marrying you today." His lips curve arrogantly.

"I'm sorry, Andrew." Your tone drops apologetically. "But I can't marry you." Your brows crinkle together, lips forming into a frown, displaying your sincerest condolences to your now, ex-fiance.

"No!" Andrew's robust voice shouts, aggressively grabbing onto your wrist to hold you in place "You will marry me,__ or the deal I have planned with your father is voided." He sneers through clenched teeth.

With the thick vein forming in the corner of Andrew's head, face burning red, and nostrils flared, you now knew the kind of husband Andrew would be in a marriage, and you'd be damned if you ever let a man treat you that way. "I won't." You reply back with a confident attitude.

Andrew steps into your face with hostile force. "Tch. Why you..."

"Let her go."

Your heart thumps wildly as your ears pick up the familiar deep tone of voice. "Y-Yoongi?" you see him, his hand grabbing hold of Andrews's forearm, prompting your ex-fiance to release you from his tight grip.

Andrew chuckles wickedly. "Look what we have here. The help, telling me what to do." Andrew shoves a finger into Yoongi's chest, nudging him backward. "Do you even know who I am? How powerful my family name is?" He questions with a cocked brow.

Yoongi's expression remains stoic, unphased by the rich male’s threats. "I don't care who you are, but if you don't let my girlfriend go, we're going to have a problem." Yoongi's eyes cut dangerously, his jaw locking, as his hand balls into a fist at his side.

"Y-Yoongi..." You've never seen your lover with such a daring expression, but you knew he was serious.

For a moment, Andrew locks eyes with Yoongi, studying the flaming rage that danced behind his jet orbs. Despite the difference in weight and height between the two men, Andrew now knew it was best not to challenge the younger male. "Tch." The ex-fiance smacks his teeth, realizing his defeat. "She isn't even worth it. You can have her." He releases your wrist, brushing past the pastor. "The wedding is off, and the deal is canceled." He announces to your father before making his furious exit out of the Chapple.

"__,!" Your father's loud voice yells out your name. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" He shouts, rushing to your side in a panic.

"Father, I'm so sorry," You begin with apologetic eyes. "But I won't marry someone that I don't love, just to make you happy." You finally find the courage to stand up to the man responsible for your birth. "The person that I love is Min Yoongi." You proudly say your boyfriend's name, taking hold of his hand.

Proud you were finally standing up for yourself, Yoongi's lips pulled into a smile, his fingers intertwining with your own.

"D-do you realize what you've done?!" Your father's spit flying through the air as he screamed.

Even with your father in such an enraged state, there was nothing you were afraid of so long as Yoongi stood by your side. "I do, actually." You give your lover's hand a firm squeeze. "This time, I'm choosing me." Despite the monstrous expression on your father's face, you smile.

You witness the muscles in your father's face move as he releases his clenched teeth, nostrils exhaling a heavy breath. "I..." Realizing what he has done, his eyes softened. "I'm sorry,__" The apology slipped from his lips remorsefully." I can't believe I was about to marry my daughter off to a man she barely knew." He shakes his head in disbelief of himself. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"Oh father," Your brows creasing together, eyes softening at your father's digression. "Of course, I can forgive you." Overjoyed, your hands reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulls you into a tight embrace. "Thank you so much." You're nearly close to tears.

Your father pats your back, savoring the moment the two of you were sharing together. "I'm sure this, Min Yoongi, is a bright, young man." He pulls away, now eyeing down the man you called your boyfriend. "You take care of my daughter now." His meaty index finger wags.

Yoongi chuckles because, of course, he would take care of you. "Yes, sir." He agrees.

Your father pats your shoulder. "Now the two of you get the hell outta here. From the way things turned out today, I have a mess that needs cleaning."

You send your father one last smile before rushing off with Yoongi down the aisle. Members of your family shout, demanding an explanation, but the two of you laugh it all off, holding hands as you rush out of the church.

Finally, reaching the car, Yoongi opens the passenger side for you, providing you a hand as you step into his vehicle, gathering the tail of your wedding dress to fit into your lap. Once you're buckled in, Yoongi makes his way to the driver's side, slipping into the seat. "I may not be able to take you to Bora Bora, but I can still give you a honeymoon back at my place." He winks with a gummy smile.

You giggle at your boyfriend's words, somehow always able to bring a smile to your face. "It doesn't matter where in the world I am," You lean in, planting a kiss on his dumpling cheek. "My paradise is always with you."

Yoongi's onyx eyes find yours once again. "I don't know what I'd do without you." He gently cups your cheek into his hand, swiping his thumb across your delicate skin. "I love you, __." His heart flipping with joy that you were now free to love whoever you choose. Free to love him.

You nudge your cheek into Yoongi's palm, starry eyes gazing into your lover through the thicks of your lashes. There was no one else you'd rather give your heart to than the man in front of you. "I love you too, Min Yoongi."

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sparklinpixiedust · 4 years ago

Text

Basic Training

This post has been sitting in my drafts for months now, during which I've come up with a few ways I wanted to write this post. This is what I've come up with.

Basic Training is the episode which made me hate Ben the most. The whole episode consisted him of being a stuck up brat only to be rewarded for it in the end.

This episode was the perfect opportunity to have Kevin in the spotlight and show how skilled and smart he is.

Gwen's presence in this episode was actually fine, there's no change needed for that.

Look, I know the shows named Ben 10 but we have seen Ben be the hero tons of times already.

And Ben being egoistic about his heroism is not something new in the franchise.

There have been episodes on the OS where Ben got a big head, yet I dont ever see anyone complaining about that.

Was is it because he was 10 that we excuse this behaviour? Nope.

15 - 16 is still pretty young and his attitude can be excused at this age as well.

My opinion? It was handled better in the OS.

There were times when Ben wasn't always the main focus.

In Lucky Girl, Ben has his ' who's your hero?' Moment.

They showed Gwen feeling jealous and hurt by the fact she wasn't noticed much.

It was realistic.

Then the epsiode proceeded to focus on Gwen , having Ben being kind of like a sub plot to the story.

Towards the end Ben compliments her.

So yeah Ben got big head, but at the same time they shifted focus so that the audience wouldn't find it annoying.

Gwen was in the spotlight for a bit, giving people a break from Ben.

Secondly , in Be Afraid Of The Dark, Ben again is shown to be slightly stuck up, but towards the end of that episode he learns and acknowledges Gwen and Grandpa for help and understands his crime fighting is more of a team effort.

In Galactic Enforcers, we are shown there are other heros besides Ben as well.

Ben wasn't the sole focus of that episode. Yes it was about him but also about the Galactic Enforcers.

I don't think he was shown to be over confident here , but it was nice to see some other heros in the scene.

The Ben 10,000 episode focuses on how Ben was too focused on his job and the lesson at that was Ben needed to relax and have them Galactic Enforcers take the lead instead.

Again , his attitude towards everything was brought in focus but towards the end he learnt something.

I recently started watching Generator Rex and I can't help but compare Rex's character to Ben's.

Rex is also proud , rushes into things and considers himself to be a hotshot. But they also show him being down ,having trouble with his nanites and actually voice out his insecurities.

He's still the hero, still has things go his way most times but it's not annoying like Ben.

( I've only seen like 7 episodes so far so I don't know if this going to go down hil or not but so far so good)

The issue with the sequels after the OS was that Ben was the focus a bit too much.

We as the audience were rarely ever given a break from him.

Other than a few conversations here and there about his attitude, nothing really was done about it.

Gwen should've been appreciated more for saving Kevin and Kevin should've been appreciated for stopping Aggregor.

But they weren't.

If it had been Ben , they would've made sure to show him getting some sort of recognition or trophy.

Back to the Basic Training episode.

We know he's the legendary Ben Tennyson, we know he's a hero. We didn't need another episode on it.

Instead the plot should've focused on Kevin. His skills, his abilities.

Ben would act the same but Magsiter Hulka should've put some sort of cover so Ben couldn't use the omnitrix.

Ben goes on breaking rules, and having a hard time being a hero without the watch.

Towards the end, it should've been Kevin who cracks the case and saves Hulka. Ben is mad he can't use the omnitrix but instead uses the guns and other weapons he's learnt to use at the academy

He's not amazing at them , but it makes him realise that he is hero , watch or not, something that has been emphasised in the show. Its not impossible for him to function without the watch.

Towards the end, Ben getting a 95 was a stretch. I'm sorry , but the guy wasn't great with using weapons and without the watch I dont think he would've been able to complete that hostage excercise.

I'm thinking more like 89%.

Gwen gets 98, that's fine and Kevin gets a 100.

Hulka comes in and awards the medal (?) to Kevin, suggesting he's becoming more like his father.

( im ignoring the ret con, plus the retcon I'm assuming wasnt thought off at this point by the writers)

Ben is shown to take one of the guns back to earth, because he thinks they're cool and he wants to practice and get better at them.

The whole hostage situation makes him want to get better at making strategies.

Yes he's good at improv, but he needs to learn to properly plan as well.

It doesn't matter if he's never shown to use the gun ever again, and he's back to relying on the omnitrix.

Or maybe some time down the line, he could use the weapon, even if it for a second, to show that he is improving and getting better.

Before you say 'he's already a hero, he doesn't need to learn anything ' sorry but no.

He's 16. He may have saved the world but he still has growing up to do. Different battles are going to arise all the time.

Saying he is perfect at 16 is dumb. Saying he's perfect when he's ben 10k , it'll make some sense. He's been around for a while and is pretty experienced.

The watch is a part of him, but seeing him try to explore other options would've been a fresher idea.

Another scene that made me mad was the court (?) scene in Vreedle, Vreedle.

Ben being a hero shouldn't make him above the law.

Domstol ruling in favor of Ben just because he's the legendry Ben Tennyson was stupid.

After Ben's little monologue , and destroying Domstols desk, the judge should've just informed him that being a hero does not excuse him from following the law.

Kevin could've had his little moment doing some negotiation ( would've been nice to see how he works as con artist) and Ben could've jumped in and helped while making some good points for the argument, showing us he's not stupid.

Then having Domstol rule in their favor would've made sense.

On the way back to earth there could've been a joke about how Ben watches Judge Judy too much which is where he learnt about trials and stuff. Or maybe Gwens dad taught him a thing or two at some point.

All this doesn't mess with Ben's character all that much, he's still the hero of the show, he still has his ego but it makes him more likeable, shifts focus from his attitude, and shows us he's pretty smart and is growing into a good hero.

Ben's not a bad guy. I mean he is the hero of the show. There are tons of scenes which show he's good , like the whole sacrificing thing so the ultimates could live and all.

But little scenes here and there tend to be enough for someone , especially for someone who isn't a super hard-core Ben lover to form negative opinions on him.

Although calling him a psychopath / narc is out of line because I don't find him to be like that. His attitude was magnified by him being in the spotlight too much and writers not having a good balance in writing situations.

Ben being the main character of the show is at risk of becoming hated or less appreciated just because he's the font runner of the show.

Admit it, side characters tend to get more love most times than the main agonist of shows.

I've been watching videos on YouTube on this topic as to why this happens , and what I've come up with is that writers of shows tend to focus too much on main character. Things seem to go their way most times and this tends to get on peoples nerves, consciously or subconsciously because it's not exactly realistic.

Having shows where everything focuses on one person most times tend to backfire.

I don't mind Ben having a big head, I dont mind him making jokes and being so casual.

It's his defense mechanism to protect himself from drowning into the struggles and pressures of being a hero. But always having him be that way isn't good.

The writers should've executed it properly.

( okay this post got really long, more than I thought it would. If you're read the whole things , congratulations on making it here lol.

I'm not going to stop anyone from replying to this because everyone has different opinions and we all have the freedom to express them.

Although I believe I've made my point and I've made sure to keep in mind all the arguments about why bashing Ben is wrong when he's not a bad guy while typing this out.

I don't think I've directed any major hate towards him , its mostly towards the writers for making the situations like that,but if you think I have you can reply to it.

I'm not gonna reply back though , because again I feel I've made my point.

Any agreements / disagreements you have with the post feel free to share because it is your right.

Any disagreements you have with other members, as long as its related to the post you can share it.

Any issues you have personally with other members, please keep them to your selves.

I will not tolerate bullying , harassing, name calling and petty arguments on my post and blog page.

If this happens I will simply delete this post and re-upload it.)

#ben 10 au #ben 10 #kevin levin #ben 10 alien force #ben tennyson #ben 10 reboot #ben 10 omniverse #ben 10 analysis #ben 10 series #ben 10 critical #ben 10 classic #my take

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rpmemesbyarat · 3 years ago

Conversation

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 11 "Black Friday"

"Be careful. I'd really like to kiss you again."

"I'm saving my energy for Black Friday doorbusters tomorrow morning."

"How about you do the honors?"

"Oh, the holidays. That festive time of year where everyone's decked out in their Christmas finest."

"The season of joy and love and presents begins when the clock strikes midnight."

"I thought you got all your clothing hand-delivered by A-list designers."

"Black Friday is about buying deliberately cheap, totally forgettable Christmas gifts for friends. The obvious cheapness of the gift makes them question our friendship and makes them way easier to manipulate as they try desperately to get back on my good side."

"Is this black toilet paper?"

"Amazing. A pair of mink albino boy shorts."

"I bribe the dude who deals weed off the loading dock to let me in a half hour early."

"Torturing these soulless manatees of senseless consumerism brings me so much joy. And isn't joy what the holiday season's all about?"

'At first I was like, "What a weird turkey." And then it clicked. Like... "Damn, that's a head."

"When you agree with me, it makes me question whether I actually agree with me."

"I am gonna take this opportunity to be the strong parental influence you have never had."

"You are gonna march over to that sofa right now and you're gonna sit down because you are in a time out."

"I'm sorry. Did you just put me on a time out? You do realize I'm not seven, right?"

"Well, behold how badly you've failed."

"I think it's pretty safe to assume that your career is over."

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we're going to the mall to exercise our patriotic right to join hundreds of thousands of our fellow out-of-breath Americans in sweatpants as they make frenzied, ill-thought-out purchases of cheap, crappy garbage they can't afford and don't need. To deny us of that right would be un-American."

"Let's go, sluts."

"I want to know what I'm being charged with."

"You drove your pickup truck through the front window of a Best Buy."

"You killed or maimed people. Let's go."

"Sounds awful, but I'd keep that to yourself."

"You're not really helping yourself."

"Most of the uniformed cops out there are working on a volunteer basis because they get backed up inside if they don't crack a few skulls every day."

"There's a killer on the loose and you're telling us this town has no police force?"

"I don't understand why you have to get us the crappiest gifts possible and then make sure we know about it beforehand just to ruin the surprise."

"I mean, that's like bringing pineapples to Hawaii."

"So would you feel the need to waste $13,000 buying me something I already have?"

"Maybe instead of using my disgusting wealth to buy my friends crap, I should use my disgusting wealth to buy my friends things they would actually enjoy."

"The mall is deserted."

"Oh, go on and shoot me, hag. It'll just make me young and skinny forever and you'll still be old. Come on, finish me off, you shriveled, old crone!"

"First day on the job and I caught a killer."

"Wait, you have a gun?"

"Damn! Why didn't I shoot him when I had the chance?"

"How's your crossbow wound?"

"The arrow missed all major arteries, and I'm currently rolling on some sweet painkillers."

"What exactly are you proposing?"

"I've always had this vision of a band of sisters who stand together like an impenetrable community of shields who kept everyone safe and secure."

"Sometimes, instead of shields, we need swords."

"No one is going to help us."

"No one is going to stop this until we are all dead."

"Well, I'm sorry, but she is a vindictive, amoral woman who no one is gonna miss."

"I say we poison her."

"Did you ever do it in my bed?"

"So you were gay lovers?"

"No, we were not gay lovers."

"I'm an investigative journalist."

"Well, you know, I really love the idea of a bunch of guys from different backgrounds getting together and forming a brotherhood for life."

"Have you ever been to a driving range?"

"What sort of ab regimen are you rocking, bro?"

"I guess the fact that you and I cannot stand one another is finally out in the open."

"Name your weapon."

"So pick your weapon. You can choose sabres, guns, baseball bats, small pebbles, spoons, doesn't matter to me. What does matter, is that we will fight, and we will fight to the death."

"Well, I am sorry that took so long, but, you know, a watched pot never boils."

"Being a millennial feminist means growing up listening to Taylor Swift say she doesn't like to think of the world as boys versus girls."

"That's not what feminism was about."

"How come all the pictures on the wall are selfies?"

"Oh, it smells amazing."

"Where did you get puffer fish venom?"

"I want to be there when she dies."

"That's bliss!"

"Is it nutmeg?"

"I am like a soldier at war. I am killing to stop more killing. It's totally justified."

"But what about moral law?"

"Oh, that would be hard for you?"

"I don't "rage" on Tuesday nights or have competitions about how many girls I can have sex with in one day."

"What I'm trying to say is guys join fraternities to get a sense of structure in their lives. Problem is the structure

they're buying into is antiquated. It's misogynistic and hierarchical and dangerous."

"It's misogynistic and hierarchical and dangerous."

"I don't think I'm in the right headspace right now."

"You're a rare breed, one of the true good guys."

"That's the weirdest explanation for anything I've ever heard."

"We need to think of new ways to kill her!"

"I'm really gonna cherish our time here together."

"Killing is wrong, but, under this circumstance, I don't know what other choice we have."

"Hold on, sluts."

"When I was your age, I was thoughtless about sex."

"If you don't think you're ready, you probably aren't. And if you aren't, well, then no good can come from doing it, anyway."

"The main thing is you have to be perfectly dry. The cryosauna is set to 200 degrees below zero, so any water on your skin freeze instantly."

"How come there hasn't been any screaming?"

"No, we need to get away while we still can."

"Hey, hey, it's enough. The point has been made."

"Why do you want to continue taking this any further?"

"Yes, I feel guilty!"

"Don't you ever call me again."

"I heard about these Buddhist Monks that found a way to meditate, so they can sit outside all night, way, way up in the Himalayas in weather that would kill a normal person, but their core temperature stays totally normal."

"You're thinking of the movie Teen Wolf, you brainless gash, which is not, in fact, a documentary!"

"Uh, Rasputin. He was a mystical Russian peasant who became a close advisor of Tsar Nicholas II because he could magically cure Prince Alexei of his hemophilia."

"Okay, this seems totally not germane to what we're talking about, so can we please just skip ahead?"

"Maybe she has some magical powers that make her unable to die, like some horror movie villain, like Michael Myers, or Jason, or Dr. Giggles."

"So, maybe try on a size zero."

"Okay, I'm not gonna try on the size zero because I won't fit into the size zero."

"This is discrimination!"

"Look at her. Give her something. Give her something to be happy!"

"Come on, what is wrong with these idiots?!"

"Why did you ask me to meet you here? And why are you carrying a bag clearly filled with chains?"

"I thought we could talk about bondage and go for a swim."

"You're all packed up. I thought you were staying until you cracked the case."

"I was just gonna go to the woods and write or something,

like Thoreau, but with WiFi."

"I mean, maybe I could come with you. Might be kind of romantic, you know?"

"I could bring a slow cooker, and we could talk about the case all night over short ribs?"

"Well, I do love short ribs."

"I'll always be able to say that my first was with a great, great, great guy."

"I am a sentient grown woman who has been through

hell the past few weeks, and I'm sitting next to you, now, with open eyes and an open heart, telling you that I want to give myself to you."

#rp memes #rp meme #rp starters #roleplay starters #roleplay meme #roleplay memes #scream queens

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redpensandgreenarrows · 3 years ago

Note

Hello, is Benedict and Sophie your favorite couple from the Bridgertons? if they are can I know why? I love to read the reason people like the same couple as me

Hi, Nonnie!!

Yes, Benedict and Sophie are my favorite couple. As to why they are my favorite... Wow that seems a bit hard to put into words.

I guess overall it’s the... fairytale-ness(?) of it? And when I say that, I don’t mean because it parallels Cinderella. It’s the magic of their love. When they meet for the first time at the masquerade, both are literally rocked to the core, and for the most part everything disappears/doesn’t matter except each other. They are so completely absorbed and enthralled during those scenes on the balcony that you know their breath has been taken from them, but I’m sure some small part of them is questioning if this is even real!?

It just sounds so lovely. To find a love so magical. (and makes you feel so sure about it.)

Also, I’m ALL ABOUT THE BANTER. I adore the fantastic snarky banter between couples as they fight falling in love. They are both so stubborn, but in different ways or for different reasons, and it just leads to comic moments.

I love Benedict’s character as the quieter, artistic brother, but who has snark FOR DAYS, is super protective of those who loves, and literally loves with his whole heart.

As for Sophie, how can you not lover her!? She is so strong, SO strong. It’s always surprised me how much I love this story, because Cinderella was never my favorite fairytale growing up - didn’t hate it, but wasn’t my favorite - but I think it’s because this story is very my a parallel to Cinderella vs. just plugging in new names to an existing story. Sure, Sophie might be shyer, or more cautious in certain situations (can you blame the girl!?), but she is a total badass! She knows her mind, and knows how to defend herself. (Headcanon: the Bridgertons are super protective of Sophie, but they know you do not piss her off. ABCG have seen her angry side and it terrifies them.)

So, I rambled for a bit there, but I hope this was a decent enough explanation, Nonnie! ^_^ Benophie just make me happy, and after having Luke T cast as Benedict I have fallen even more in love with the character. I can’t wait to see who Sophie is!

Thanks for the ask!! <3

#Anonymous #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #sophie bridgerton #benedict x sophie #benophie #bridgerton spoilers #otp: let me be your anchor

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songofsoma · 4 years ago

Text

Watch of the Faithful

31 days of wayhaven // day 9: fight

fandom: the wayhaven chronicles pairing: ava du mortain x cecilia beck words: 2,733 rating: general

part 1 // part 2

read on ao3

“She’s lucky to even be alive.”

The words rocked Ava to her core when Elidor spoke.

Hands flew out to grip anything to keep her grounded. The edge of a side table was the unfortunate victim to her white-knuckle grip. She could see the fae’s lips move as he continued to speak with Agent Beck and the rest of the unit, but all Ava could hear was the blood rushing in her ears.

“…internal bleeding from cracked ribs and head trauma from the impact against the wall. I’ve given her something to put her into a temporary coma to allow her body to heal.”

Elidor hesitates for a moment before continuing. “If the demon infesting her hadn’t been keeping her body going, she would’ve died” His voice seemed pained at the thought.

Ava came crashing back to reality and slowly turned to face Morgan who was already backing away.

She held her hands up defensively, her face twisted into a scowl. “She was trying to kill us.”

“Did you have to hit her so hard, Morgan?” It was Farah who snapped, golden eyes still glossy from tears. “Didn’t you hear what he just said, you almost killed my best friend!”

Morgan flinched, her stony gaze faltering. “Listen, it’s not my fault demon Cece was a bitch.”

A snarl ripped from Ava’s lips as she stalked forward.

There was no stopping her. She was a freight train compared to the others, even Nat would’ve been useless at halting her.

Large hands gripped Morgan’s upper arms, slamming her back against the wall. She could practically feel the others flinch from the cracking sound of the wall.

“You have made it clear you do not care for Cecilia plenty of times. But this is unacceptable.” She was in her face. The fierceness of Ava’s attitude was enough to catch the other vampire off-guard.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” She snapped, pulling herself together.

“You almost took her away from us, from me. I swear to you, Morgan, I would have never forgiven you if she had died.” Her voice cracked at the thought of the detective’s death.

Morgan’s eyes were wide as Ava dropped her back to her feet. She turned away, unable to look at her any longer. A trembling hand ran across her forehead in attempts to soothe the anxieties bubbling inside her.

The room had fallen silent in the meantime, shock reverberating around the room.

“Ava?” A comforting touch fell on to her shoulder. She doesn’t even have to look to know it came from Nat.

“What it is?” She asked, a heavy sigh accompanying the question. She was tired, so tired, and was ready to be left alone.

“Why don’t you get some rest? I think Rebecca should have some time alone with Cece.”

She was right. Nat was always right.

Ava looked over her shoulder to observe the agent slumped against the wall. Her head was bowed, her sleek bob had been traded in for an unkempt mess of brunette waves that hid the sharp features of her face. Even if she had been told Cecilia had resembled Rook more—soft, rounded features, kind eyes, a dazzling smile that could charm anyone to their knees—Ava was still taken aback by the parallels between the two women.

She turned her attention to Nat. “I will in a few minutes.”

Catching the hint, she nodded, squeezing her shoulder before she left. Morgan had ducked out seconds after Ava had let her go, Farah following quickly to presumably give her a piece of her mind too, and Elidor had other patients that required his attention.

It left just Ava and Rebecca.

After a long moment of silence, Ava moved to stand in front of her superior, unsure of what to say.

“How could I not have realized sooner?” Rebecca finally muttered.

She pursed her lips. “None of us did.”

“You did.” Dark and tortured eyes met hers. “You knew.”

Ava said nothing. She only looked away with a furrowed brow.

“What kind of mother does not know when her own daughter is acting differently?” Her words were strangled from the fresh tears staining the russet skin of her face. “I swore to her I would make up for all those years I wasn’t there for her properly.” She shook her head, a humorless laugh following. “She said there was nothing to forgive me for, that she understood. You should’ve seen the way her eyes lit up when I asked her if she wanted to have lunch with me. I have never seen someone get so excited over lunch.”

She gave a knowing smile. “That sounds like her, yes.”

Rebecca shook her head. “I can’t keep failing her. Even with a heart as big as hers, I’m going to run out of chances. I’m going to lose my baby just like I did her father.”

Ava swallowed hard as she tried to choose her words carefully. There wasn’t a chance to respond.

Arms wrapped around her tightly as Rebecca’s cold professionalism cracked completely. This wasn’t Agent Beck, it was a tired and broken woman who was on the brink of losing it all.

She returned the gesture hesitantly. Rebecca was on the shorter side, not as small as Cecilia, but still at least four or five inches shorter than herself.

“Thank you for taking care of her, Ava,” she whispered. “Please, please, be good to her.”

Ava felt her chest tighten.

She wanted to say that she wished she could do better by her or that the girl deserved better, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it aloud. The internal fight of her selfish need for Cecilia and the desperation for her to have what she truly deserved was a war fought by tireless soldiers.

“Always.” That was what she finally settled on, ignoring the lump forming in her throat when she spoke.

But it was true. So long as Cecilia would have her, Ava would be there.

***

For the next week, Ava spent the majority of her time in the tiny hospital room Cecilia had been set up in.

She sat beside the bed, watching over her every second she could until Elidor ushered her out of the room so he and the other staff could care for her. It was a daily occurrence, and still, Ava was disgruntled every time she was evicted.

Sometimes, Nat came and sat with her. She brought a few of Cecilia’s favorite novels to read aloud. “I read that it helps,” she had said to the curious gaze she was given.

Ava appreciated the company. It was lonely without the detective’s lively chatter.

Farah and Agent Beck frequented the room as well. From what Ava could tell, Farah and Morgan were still not on speaking terms. To be fair, she and Ava hadn’t spoken since either, but that was partly to Morgan avoiding the leader like she was a reckoning. She supposed she was in a way.

When the fact was brought up, Nat predicted—quite tiredly—that everything would smooth over once Cecilia woke up. She also found out Morgan had popped in the few times Ava wasn’t there.

But still, none of them were Cecilia.

It had been a week since she had seen those pretty brown eyes or witnessed rosy lips curl into a smile that never failed to weaken her knees. She wanted the warmth of her touch, the softness of her lips. Ava was starving for her.

Her mind had been running in circles since that night as she thought of all the ways she could have stopped it. The ways she could have saved her. But right now, all she wanted was for Cecilia to recover.

Elidor had given the notice that they would be waking her up today.

“It might take some time. She’ll wake up on her own.” He gave a sympathetic smile to the little group who had gathered, feeling the mood deflate in the room.

So once more, Ava stood guard over the sleeping figure of her lover. She acted as an impenetrable wall between Cecilia and the dangers of the outside world.

She had been lost in thought when Cecilia first awoke.

Ava hadn’t noticed the way her eyelashes fluttered or the way her toes and fingers curled as her body slowly began to wake up.

What caught her attention was the soft sigh as her eyelids finally slid open, groggy gaze searching the room, confusion written all over her face.

Ava took a bandaged hand between her own. “You’re awake,” she said dumbly.

Cecilia attempted to sit up. Ava hadn’t been quick enough to stop her before a cry of pain left her lips and she fell back against the bed, breathing ragged.

“Mea vita, you need to rest.” Her lips brushed over the rough bandages covering her knuckles. Cecilia’s grip tightened pathetically on her fingers.

“Ava—” she croaked, voice hoarse from lack of use.

Letting go of her hand, Ava stood to fetch her a glass of water to help soothe the dryness of her throat.

She helped the cup to dry, cracked lips, her other hand cradling the back of Cecilia’s head tenderly. She made a note to bring her the lip balm she favored later, feeling guilty for not doing so before.

After settling her back down gently, she pulled her chair closer to the bed.

She smoothed down dark wisps of hair that were unruly from sleep. Purplish bruises were scattered over her face, deep shadows hanging under her eyes. A thick white bandage was wrapped around her forehead to cover the stitches she had received from her head wound. She was so beautiful even now, injured and under the fluorescent hospital lighting. It was one of her many talents.

Deep brown eyes shone with sudden tears. “Ava, I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, my love.” A soothing hand caressed her cheek, being careful of the discolored skin.

“What I did,” she shook her head, shifting so Ava’s hand was forced to fall away, “that is unforgivable. What I did to you and the others. Oh god, to Morgan.” She slumped further down, hiding her guilt as she wept.

“Cecilia, please,” Ava’s words were soft as she gently pulled her hands away to reveal her face once more. “It is not your fault. All that matters is the fact that you are okay.”

Plump lips rolled together as she thought, silent tears still slipping over her cheeks. Without thinking, Ava wiped them away, her touch a whisper against her skin.

“Is Morgan alright? It’s all blurred together in my mind. All I can remember is that I hurt her.”

Ava snorted, leaning back in her chair. “She’s fine. She heals.”

She took a few seconds to study her. “You’re mad at her. Why?”

Blonde brows shot up in shock. “Do you not remember her throwing you against the wall?”

“Kind of hard to forget.” She winced at the memory. “But I did deserve it.”

Ava stood up, beginning to pace the small length of the room. “Cecilia, she almost killed you.” It was becoming harder to stay calm.

“But she didn’t—”

“She could have!”

Cecilia’s lips hung open, unable to think of a response.

Ava’s chest was heaving and her fists were clenched. Her gaze was beginning to blur from tears. Not wanting Cecilia to witness the cracking of her stoic armor, she turned her head.

“Come here.”

She whipped around.

“Please,” Cecilia whispered, opening her arms.

Ava sat back on the previously abandoned chair, the top half of her slumping forward onto the bed. The comforting warmth of Cecilia’s embrace enveloped her even at the awkward angle she held her shoulders. Her forehead rested against her chest, her own arms sliding around her, being cautious not to jostle her.

Cecilia grunted as she moved to press a soft kiss to the side of Ava’s head. She quickly settled back down before she could be scolded, opting to run her fingers through the tendrils of loose blonde hair that spilled on to the sheets.

“I will be fine,” she promised, the pad of her thumb wiping away a tear that had escaped her glacial gaze. “Besides, I have you looking after me. I think I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have such a hot nurse.”

A strained laugh left her as she sat up, enjoying the pleased grin on Cecilia’s lips. “I am sure Elidor will be overjoyed to hear such a compliment.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, you, silly. I meant you. Elidor isn’t my type.”

“And I am?” Ava chuckled.

The air was sucked from her lungs when she noticed the shift in her gaze to full adoration. “You know you are,” Cecilia murmured, grabbing at the collar of her shirt to pull her closer, pressing a tender kiss to her lips.

The door crashed open, accompanied by a loud squeal.

“I told you I heard voices!” Farah cried out happily.

Ava turned, quite irritably at the ruining of the moment, to see the young agent with an arm full of colorful balloons and flowers skip into the room. She had Nat in tow who seemed to be in charge of transporting an oversized teddy bear, but she seemed more than happy to be a part of it. Morgan trailed in after them. She had a small pink stuffed dog in her hands and an unsure look in her eyes.

Farah shoved everything she was holding into Morgan’s arms before rushing over to hug Cecilia who let out a small oof.

“Oh shit!” She jumped back. “I’m sorry, I forgot. I’m just so glad you’re okay,” she said sheepishly, glancing over at Ava.

“It’s alright, really,” she assured her, reaching out to take her hand gratefully.

Farah smiled.

“You didn’t have to do this.” Cecilia gestured to where Nat was helping Morgan set down the various gifts they had brought.

“We wanted to.” Nat’s warm smile accompanied her words as she greeted the girl with a gentle hug. “It’s the least we could do.”

Farah was bouncing on her heels excitedly, pushing a tight curl out of her face before Cecilia patted the edge of the bed for her to sit. She did without a second thought, already talking a mile a minute.

Ava settled back into her seat, finally feeling like she was able to breathe again.

She watched the detective carefully. The joy was overpowering the lingering exhaustion in her eyes. It wouldn’t be long before Ava would have to chase everyone out so she could rest.

Cecilia’s eyes suddenly looked around the room, landing on Morgan lurking in the corner. “I thought I saw you come in,” she said happily, clearly taking the vampire by surprise.

She seemed uncomfortable as she slinked over to the side of the bed, stiffly holding out the stuffed animal she had brought. “I’m sorry for, uh, throwing you against a wall and almost killing you.”

Ava stiffened, but amusement played on Cecilia’s face.

Cecilia grinned. “I knew you liked me.” She grabbed Morgan’s wrist, tugging her into a semi-forced hug, one that she eventually gave in to.

They had been allowed to stay for a bit longer. Elidor had come in to check on her a few times as well. He seemed just as relieved to see her awake as the rest of them did. Eventually, the rest of the team had been shooed out to allow Cecilia to rest. Ava had only been permitted to stay because it was quite clear she had no intention of going anywhere.

Ava had taken Farah’s spot on the edge of the bed, gently brushing hair away from her face.

“Do you think these beds are too small for you to lay with me?” Cecilia murmured with a quiet smile.

She chuckled. “These beds are barely large enough for me alone, carissima.”

“Guess I’ll just have to beg Elidor to let me move back to my room tomorrow.” She yawned, nuzzling into Ava’s hand on her cheek.

Her heart clenched as she watched her. She didn’t dare to move until she was sure Cecilia had fallen asleep. And when she did, the farthest Ava went was to her post in the chair so she could stand watch over her darling once again.

68 notes · View notes

wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 4 years ago

Note

Hi Evoe, can I ask for you to write this MCxVinca fic? The request is where mc made deal with demons by giving up ability to feel touch to obtain darkness and light powers so she can keep up with Vinca and her friends. However, demon magic corrupt mc’s soul. Mc went dark and betray her lover by using Vinca’s knife to kill her so she can become Pride and take her mind reading power. Mc made it looks like it’s from Vuzgamad’s ambush and claimed that Vinca made her a successor before her death

Part 4

Warnings:

Mental Health Insane Levels of denial Body Phobia? Strong Language Blood and Gore Assisted Suicide Forced Murder? Self Sacrifice Major Character Death A majorly self indulgent, arrogant ghost writer.

Written by: @evoedbd Part One, Part Two, Part Three ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Rae had always heard of happy endings. The hero made a great sacrifice, endured the trials of their mistakes and rose above. The hero swooped in, got the girl, the Hollywood kiss and crescendo music of life… But everyone knew Hollywood was full of shit. It was a series of cucked up hopes and dreams, of self-denials wrapped up into comical tales to avoid the pain, or forgiveness where life would have kicked the shit out of them. As Rae contemplated her existence as it was, she finally understood. There was no happy ending for the characters who never made it. In life, mistakes weren’t undone by an overlay of laughter, or a kiss between hero and leading lady. There was no black and white, no Superman and Lex Luthor. No Batman and Joker. In life, mistakes led to pain, and sometimes there was no resolution. Sometimes, there was no happy ending. Sometimes, there was just darkness. Just a simple question.

How?

Rae damn well understood that question right now. She felt it to the core, to the bone in her mental scape. This was her own mind, the place she was meant to be strongest. The place every war was won, before she even took a step onto a battlefield in the “real” world. But how? How was she going to even win this war when even the act of trying to lift a finger of a single part of her mind was harder than declaring world war three. When she’d fragmented herself so far, broken herself into so many little pieces trying to protect those she loved. For all the window dressings, for all the add ons of experience and DLCS of happy memories, this was all that she had left. All she amounted to. A crumpled figure in a dark room; a world of black with a solitary beam of light baring down on her broken body. How could there be a happy ending when she was so powerless? So broken?

She’d thought she understood torture, understood disconnection. She’d lived without touch for over a year now, slowly forgetting the warmth of Vinca’s hug, the taste of a kiss. How it felt to have another break so willingly into her hands, only to reconstruct them in the afterglow. Her life had been exhaustion. A visual game of when to pretend she felt, and when to ignore. How long a hug should be held before someone got awkward. If a handshake was too hard. Or too fish wristed. Touch had become sight, visuals and sounds. Life, nothing more than a movie.

How? How had the script gotten so fucked up?

She was meant to be the hero. She’d done the heroic thing. When things were hopeless, she’d sold her soul. She’d agreed to sacrifice the ability to touch another when she’d shaken Vuzgamad’s hand. She’d sacrificed to save those she loved. She’d SAVED them. Vinca. Onyx. Yvette. She’d SAVED them. She’d struggled, for so long, she’d pretended everything was fine. She’d bitten back her tears until Vinca stilled beside her. She’d laughed and apologised when a hug for Onyx was too tight, too painful. She’d done the heroic thing. The hero was meant to get the girl, meant to swoop her up into a cinematic kiss, not beat them into a bloody pulp. Not make them cry, make them plead. She was meant to be the hero. She wanted to be. Just once, Rae had wanted to be more than the side chick. More than the love interest. No, fuck that. Rae had never subscribed to the stupid roles and rules. All she’d wanted was to save those she loved, be strong enough for them. She’d been stupid enough to take the deal, to shake hands with the Devil. To sell human touch for the power over Light and Shadow, over all they encompassed… at the time, it had seemed worthwhile. The only way to overcome the odds as a human amongst heroes. For once, she’d been able to fight alongside them, instead of being the one tending the wounds. But the cost had drained her, spiralled out of her control. She couldn’t even identify when she’d lost control. Was it the first time she’d recognised the schemes building within her? The first time she’d answered Vuzgamad’s call? Taken the credit for victories when it had only been the Demon’s words that allowed them? Was it when her mind had snapped, fighting itself until what she identified as herself was imprisoned within her own mind as darkness paraded around, scheming to destroy everything she cared for as she was forced to watch?

How could she save Vinca when she couldn’t even make her body behave?

The horror movie continued, reaching the crescendo as Rae watched her own hand close around one of Vinca’s blades. No! This wasn’t how the movie ended, it couldn’t be! She screamed, kicked and clawed at the bars of her cage, as if her mind was some video game. Maybe if she jumped down the right tube, she might be able to reach the button. To shut herself down. If she smashed the spacebar, she could leap across the chasm, stitch herself together enough to redirect the blade… but she was so tired. Drowning. The water was pushing her into the bars of her cage, the landslide was swallowing the light. Only those solo screens were clear, the screens which showed her baring down upon Vinca… but hands were slushing through the water, digging her out. There were keys in the door, but she was too tired to turn the lock. Too tired to kick. To move her arms. Limp. So close and yet so far… dragged. A solid hand around her wrist dragged her to the door, was pulling her to the surface.

Then it was lips upon her own that finally granted her the air her lungs had screamed for.

How? After so long, how could she feel the warmth against her? The puffs of agonised breath against her cheek through fine nostrils, the unseemly clunk of teeth against her own. It didn’t matter. She could feel… after so long, she could FEEL those lips against hers. An addiction, a benediction. She gasped, lifting her own hands to a familiar blond pixie cut, pulling those lips into her own. Crushing herself to them. Taking. Everything and anything… This was everything. The breath of life, warm and spreading down her own chest… why weren’t both hands in Vinca’s hair? She’d raised both of them, she swore… but pressure? Firm, warm, gentle. Hands surrounding one of hers. Her right. The hand which had been almost melted around the hilt of Vinca’s blade. The answer was there, just beneath the shadows in her mind, a mind clearer than it had been since she’d shaken Vuzgamad’s hand. A demon… She’d made a deal with a demon! A demon who was laughing as if they’d just watched a comedy. Not just a single demon. All of them, disbelief and malicious glee echoing through the air. As if the unexpected was delicious. As if they’d won.

“Vinca?” Trepidation flooded Rae’s voice as her eyes opened, expecting to find fury reflected in the skies. Instead, she found agony. She found reluctant acceptance, found a lone tear flowing down a beautiful cheek, catching between parted, bloodied lips. There was too much blood. It stained pristine white teeth into a sickly, blotchy pink. It trickled from the corner of a heartbroken smile, the face of courage in darkness. Sunlight after forty days of rain… Bittersweet. Her warmth left Rae’s hands, coming to gently cradle the former mechanic’s trembling jaw. A lone thumb brushed fine lips, urging her to be silent, leaving metallic warmth behind.

“Rae…” Vinca’s voice was a whisper on the wind, a smile given vocal form, relief. A whisper from the heart, exposing everything. Her eyelids fluttered, the weakened wings of a bird… a bird who’d been shot, was bleeding, an arrow buried within its heart. An arrow that looked just a little too much like Vinca’s blade. The Pride assassin let out an overly wet, weak laugh, one punctuated by a glob of red spilling between her parted lips. From her laden tongue. For one bright moment, her eyes shone, reflecting the stars hanging in the stillest night sky. Rae should have known that meant that beauty was already dead, inevitably gone, with only an echo remaining. Just like said stars, Vinca fell, legs giving out, leaving Rae falling under her weight. Fighting to hold the larger body upright as confusion erupted across her expression. It only lasted a few moments before her gaze drifted to Vinca’s chest. Red. So much red. Layers and shades, from brown-tinged to red tinging black. Just like med school. Just like the cadavers, Rae hadn’t cut cleanly, so they’d begun to bleed over her. Just like a self-saucing chocolate pudding, with the insides bubbling out of a cut crust. A volcano bleeding lava. Red. Insides leaking. Flowing. Cut. Bleeding… the length of the blade rattling within a fleshy sheath.

“Fuck… that… hurt.”

“VINCA!” Rae felt herself shriek, her body erupting into action. A single blink had everything rushing back. The way she’d fought, tried to stop the blade. Vinca’s hands pulling the blade in, forcing Rae to commit to the blow. To the….

“H-haven’t heard you that l-loud for a while, Squirt.” Vinca’s voice was so quiet. So feeble. Weakening. Strength draining with each pulse of her blood.

“Don’t you fucking joke, Wren! I stabbed you! I am so fucking…. Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Just stay still, Vinc, I can fix this. I can fix this. I can you, I just have to… I can fix this, I swear. Just stay with me, please! Please… I can fix this, PLEASE? Let me fix it…” Rae pleaded, her voice rising in octaves as her hands desperately pressed down on Vinca’s chest, on the wound. This. It was her thing. Fixing people. Helping people. She had to do this, had to save Vinca. Had to fix it. That’s what she did. Fixed things. Fixed people. Repaired bikes and flesh. This was HER thing. She had to fix it. She could fix it. She SHOULD be able to fix it. But she couldn’t, she knew that even as she stubbornly denied the looming inevitability. Vinca had lost blood. So much blood. Too much blood. She needed blood! Now! Frantic, Rae began to scoop at Vinca’s blood, dragging it back towards the gaping hole in her chest. Trying to shove it back through the wound, like a child trying to restuff a teddy bear the dog had chewed. Paddling in the kiddie pool… but that pool was Vinca. Fading with every splash. The sheer amount of blood was so slippery, so gritty, leaving Rae’s palms sliding across Vinca’s skin with desperate, frustrated cries. She threw her everything into it, all of her measly body weight. If only she was fatter. Worthy of the biggest loser even. Over three hundred pounds. That she’d stopped exchanging the chocolate bars for apples. That she hadn’t been so dedicated to her fitness. Maybe if she was just a kilo heavier. Her hands larger, more meat and less lean tendons. If she was more flab and less ab…

“Rae…” Vinca implored, fighting until she managed to lift her befouled hands to Rae’s jaw. She trembled, barely managing a brush of her fingertips across Rae’s flesh, leaving strokes of her life as wet paint across Rae’s jawbone. There was something so gentle in her voice, pity and sorrow mixed with that unmistakable fondness she held for Rae and Rae alone. How had Rae missed that? The little tones amongst tones that Vinca held for everyone in her life. Tones which told tales far wilder than even the most drunken buffoon standing on the most rickety table in a dingey, run-down bar. Tales more touching than Shakespeare’s finest tragedy. More moving. Rae couldn’t believe she’d missed it, like a ship in the night whilst she was the Titanic sinking into the blues of Vinca’s eyes. She was once again bewitched by the depth of blue. Why had she not appreciated this? How had she not seen? They weren’t just blue, not just a flat shade. They were almost a braiding of blues forming a beautiful whole. Little circles and patterns Rae wished she could have spent forever memorising. They were the sky, she always knew this, but they weren’t just any sky. They were… she couldn’t even process. Never, in all her life, had she seen eyes so blue. Not just their colour, but their spirit. The essence of colour and emotion. Blue. Blue to counteract the red. No… No. Rae Lang couldn’t accept this, not now. Religious Parents denied their kids were gay for years, surely Rae could master the same level of world-altering denial. Maybe Mrs “something smells” down the road could offer her lessons on the haughty head tilt… But Rae knew, deep down, couldn’t ignore this. No amount of denial was going to pump the blood back into Vinca’s veins. Was going to undo the very lethal damage. Vinca Wren was dying in her arms, and all she could do was think how to keep the world turning even as it disintegrated. By the look of understanding in Vinca’s eyes, she saw every torment, every fight Rae was facing. She pitied. Afterall, Vinca knew she was no longer going to be there to save her fiery little Chinese Mechanic. But… just like the ocean, just like Vinca’s eyes, the pain seemed to run deeper. An undercurrent of guilt, until all Rae could do was stare, was let herself fall closer once she noticed the tremble of Vinca’s lip. The Pride assassin growled, a sound more akin to a wet mewl from a half-dead kitten in an alleyway, yet the sound seemed to be enough. She threw her body into the movement, lifting her hands, tangling her long fingers into Rae’s hair in an effort to hold her closer. She pulled, letting her dying weight bring Rae’s forehead to her own, bring them as close as the physical world could allow. Never close enough.

“It’s you. By my sacrifice, it is you. By the power of us all, we choose you. B- by our decree, it’s you.” Vinca’s voice was so fragile, precious breath given to form such a simple sentence. Her words skimmed across Rae’s lips, hot, laden with magic. The taste of smoke, destruction and sugary sweet. The tang of metal, but beyond the blood of Vinca’s lips brushing her own. No, it was as if she’d swallowed Vinca’s blades, as if they were running molten down her throat.

“Please don’t leave me.” It was weak, a pathetic plea half sobbed, half-whispered. The strongest words Rae could summon, the closest to truth she could give. Everything hurt. How her knees felt against the cold floor. How every gash had begun to scab over, only to break again when she moved too suddenly. How Vinca, normally larger than life, was brought so low… the knives within her body, that creeping, molten sense that sought out every pain and bolstered it. Vinca’s sad smile, an expression she felt tickle her own along with the bump of a sharp nose.

“I’m sorry… My soul to repair yours, Rae. My sacrifice.” Vinca gurgled, one hand sliding from Rae’s hair. The Chinese woman sobbed, a broken, bitter sob as one of her hands chased that hand, clutched just above the hilt of the dagger. The strength of Vinca’s grasp was surprising, holding Rae’s hand even when the Chinese woman tried to withdraw. There was something immobile between them, a texture too similar to the hilt of Vinca’s blades, yet so impossibly soft. Nothing she could identify. Nothing she cared to. Not now.

Suddenly, communication was clear, as if she’d gone through life staring at water droplets across the surface of a mirror, diluting the image, and finally, someone had come and wiped them away. Vinca had wiped them away, taken those naturally formed zig zags and streaks away and finally let Rae see everything. She could hear it, a thousand gripes and thoughts flickering around her, all laid out like candy behind the glass. All she had to do was reach for what she desired, and it was hers. No payment. No cashier to tell her no. She could delve into anything, into anybody, shove her grubby fingers into any pie and nothing could stop her. Nothing would ever be the same again. She was strong, unending power, a pillar of the human world and yet removed from it by her very existence. Only the most special would see anything beyond this, beyond the mantle she’d had thrust upon her. People like Vinca. Like Onyx… like herself. Just as she had the moment she’d accidentally said gay instead of Rae. Just like she had when she’d asked Vinca who she was, and meant it. When she’d not taken everything for granted, even though thinking like a mirror was so much easier than acknowledging the droplets she could never have erased… the moment she’d unintentionally stepped up and dropped her name into the hat. The only name Vinca had seen worthy, and the only name she’d never wanted to burden with her pride.

“No. No! You don’t get to do this! You fucking… you just, GAH! Stop sacrificing for other people! Stop it! Take it back, Vinc! T-Take it back!” Rae screamed; grief forgotten in her wrath. Fuck this. Fuck everything! Why was it always Vinca? What kind of world would do this to someone so generous? The world, fate, humanity… All of it was a cancer, devouring from the inside out, turning Vinca into a husk with air in her lungs. Rae refused. She couldn’t be another statistic on who’d taken from Vinca… but she was, wasn’t she? A kiss more metallic than blood has passed more than emotions. It’d been Vinca’s gift. Her everything, the transfer of her mantle. Of her soul… Rae didn’t want it. Not when the cost was so high. Yet, greedily, she cradled it to her chest, gathered the power internally even as she physically tried to gather Vinca closer, as if she might ward off death.

“Oh thank fuck. Thinking is so much easier than talking.” Even in their minds, Vinca sounded pained, a fading note Rae had just caught on the wind. The pulsing of beats across a chasm Rae could never cross. A beat she couldn’t tune out, couldn’t fully hear. Limbo. Imperfect nothingness, thus becoming something. Something which would soon be nothing more than the fading note in time, as all life truly was.

“Don’t you fucking DARE! Vinc, take it back! Y-you can’t!” Rae spoke out loud, refusing to accept, refusing to play. Could Vinca even read her mind anymore? Was she even..? There was a difference between them, a difference to Vinca. A difference to Rae. Suddenly, Vinca was no longer larger than life, no longer a sin incarnate. She was so… human. Completely. Rae knew, just as she knew she would take her next breath. Just as she knew another tear would fall, that even superhuman, she could never shed enough tears. Perhaps that was why she bled, her body letting her grief flow freely. A droplet of blood offered for a thousand tears. Her entire body sobbing, staining her hoodie, her shirt, her jeans. Was this why Vinca had always worn red? To hide the tears. To hide the blood she shed?

“I… won’t leave you. T-they can’t h-have my girl.”

“Vinca! Please! I love you, I ca-” Rae swallowed, throat too thick to continue.

“Let me save you… one more time, just let ME save you. Not Pride.” Vinca’s internal plea was soft, a million answers to the questions shooting around Rae’s subconscious. Another blow to the heart. Why now? She’d fought so long, loved so long to get even a skerrick of an answer from Vinca. She’d practically had to get a doctorate in psychology to even begin to understand the complexities of the human in her arms. Now, after all this, she was just being given the answers? Just given EVERYTHING? She had NEVER wanted everything. Never wanted something to just be given to her for just existing. She’d never wanted to be among the stars, not when she could turn and watch Vinca shine brighter. Now though… the stars were forced into her hands, life smiling as it snuck Vinca away, looking at Rae as if she’d gotten the better deal… she hadn’t. The stars, the depths of the oceans, the arcane. None of it was worth Vinca Wren. It was a cold comfort, to hold such power, when the hole in her heart was growing between the slowing beats of Vinca’s.

“This wasn’t how it was meant to go…” Rae whispered, her eyes sliding closed, eyelids only fluttering to let out her tears. She rested her forehead to Vinca’s, breathing in every gasp escaping the former Pride assassin. Dirty, tainted air, more precious than the gems of the world, the stars in the skies, than the mysteries of the deep. Treasure was not simply all that glittered, not when compared to a dying heart. Life. That was the true treasure, the soul the gleam or soot concealing the prize. And Rae had taken it, taken both so selfishly. She could feel it, an inexplicable sense of Vinca filling her lungs, patching the damages the demons had inflicted. Weaving into her being, until where she ended and Vinca’s patchwork begun was almost seamless within. Almost. Rae knew where to look, where to find every gnarled scar, every torment. She would always know those scars.

“I was meant to save you.”

“Right… cause loving me, treating me like a human, reminding me of who I was doesn’t count as soul-saving. In every cliché sense of the concept, Rae, you did. If I could… I’d smack you. Just… stay with me.” Vinca’s internal snark was sharp, enough to earn a startled laugh out of Rae. A short burst of amusement and disbelief before it faded. Before Vinca let herself collapse, let her eyes drift closed, lips peeled into a tender smile.

“I don’t think I’m opening my eyes again, Rae… thank you, for a last laugh.”

“Vinc… No. No, no no, stay with me! Just a little longer, please. I can’t let go.” Rae sobbed, her voice shattering, catching in the back of her throat. That one frustrating area, just behind the roof of her mouth, just at the beginning of the throat. It ached in that one stupid place, where no water could reach. Where no pain could truly be soothed. She didn’t want it to be. If soothing was letting go, she wanted to burn. To suffer. She’d live her life in this limbo, these few seconds that stretched for minutes. A novel to explain a single minute. She’d forever be an uncompleted story if she didn’t have to endure this. Didn’t have to listen to Vinca’s final thoughts trickle away.

“I knew. The moment you screwed your own name up and announced you were Gay, I knew… I’m sorry I wasted time being… It’s so cold. Death is fucking freezing, Rae… Please don’t leave. Don’t make me be alone again. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Never.” Rae vowed, projecting everything into the way she held Vinca’s hand, holding with as much strength as was left in her body. Hard enough to crush the bones, bones Vinca wouldn’t feel anymore. Her short nails bit into Vinca’s flesh, leaving little crescent moons, drawing more blood. It wasn’t enough. Never could it be enough. Her hands were too weak to hold a life from the claws of death, even with every power flooding her veins. All she had was a moment, a breath taken, one which she feared would leave her words falling on unhearing ears. It didn’t matter if Vinca heard them or not, whether she spoke in time with Vinca’s final moment of consciousness. It buzzed within her, within them, the sentiment. The magic weaving them together, a final mockery to every deal made with every devil. To everything Pride had forced upon Vinca from the moment love had made her accept the mantle… just as it had led her to lay it down. Just as it moved Rae to accept it.

“You’ll never be alone again, Vinca Wren.”

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euvirginia · 4 years ago

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ღ VIRGINIA VIAMONTES — CHARACTER TROPES

PART 1/2

stepford smiler

tw mention of mental illness - anxiety & depression

virginia will always have a smile on her face, no matter what. a cursed blessing, a power bestowed to her by dionysus allowing her to maintain a permanent poker face. on the outside, virginia comes across as yet another ditzy social butterfly. bubbly, carefree, and annoyingly optimistic, it doesn’t seem like there’s much that can actually faze her. a lover of the spotlight, she makes sure she’s hard to miss, always one you can hear coming a mile away and brightening any room she walks into. at her core, she’s extremely friendly, always needing wanting someone to talk to. an expert at small talk, priding herself in always being able to fill up awkward silences. of course, this is nothing more than a mask she puts on because the truth is virginia viamontes, is utterly and devastatingly broken. she’s been like this for a while. always having the perfect smile on her lips while laying awake at night by the demons that haunt her. the insecurities and fears that run through her mind are never ending. part of the reason why you’ll rarely find virginia on her own is because of how easily it is for her to get sucked into her own thoughts. she’s terrified of never being good enough: not being talented, not being smart enough, not being beautiful enough, not being worthy enough — of literally not being enough for anyone. she’s completely numb inside, the smile she puts on being nothing more than a facade to get her through the day. she works extremely hard and bends over backwards for others only to feel like she’s let down someone every time. it’s something that has gone untreated for years with virginia refusing to admit that how she feels isn’t normal or accept that she needs help.

abusive parents

tw mention of emotional neglect, mention of death

while virginia cares deeply for her parents, her mother especially, the relationship she has with graciela viamontes and dionysus is rocky to say the least. as a child she idolized the romantic fairytale her mother had created about how her parents met. graciela spinning a story of how dionysus was her prince charming who fell to his untimely demise before vi was born. going so far as to take the girl to visit ‘his grave’ all throughout her childhood. it wasn’t until virginia’s powers manifested and graciela realized that the vague note dionysus had left behind about how he was a god and would be back once vi got older, that she realized her web of lies was soon to be untangled. it completely devarstated vi. while it was something she never confronted her mother about, it did cement some deep seeded issues in the girl. her mother became distant after it was revealed that vi was a demi-god, resentful almost. she still provided for vi but things were never the same. she stopped being the person virginia would go to for anything and everything. she knows her mom’s never looked at her the same either and vi’s almost sure that she blames her for her failed broadway dreams. the tipping point coming during virginia’s senior of high school when vi wanted to go to julliard and graciela insisted she attend eonia. while she was accepted into both, graciela kept pressuring vi into attening eonia in athens due to it being the ‘safer’ option. an argument that lasted weeks, with graciela refusing to help vi with anything college related, backing her into a corner until she had to attend eonia. it caused them to not speak for weeks with her step-father serving as a mediator between the two. ‘til this day, virginia’s almost certain there’s a part of her mom that fears virginia. every decision she’s made feels like it’s been something to keep vi at arm’s length all while keeping a very cautious eye on her, especially when it came to how virginia engaged with her step-father and baby sister. then there’s dionysus. meeting dionysus was such a let down, mainly because he was nothing like the version graciela had created. he wasn’t interested in virginia, never giving her the validation or love she so desperately craved. she spent years trying to please him, doing everything in her power to get just an ounce of something from him. once her step-father entered the picture, vi did manage to get that father figure she yearned for but it never took away the pain of knowing that no matter how hard she tries, dionysus will never care. with both of them being neglectful in their own way, it’s caused a lot of problems with how she involves herself with others.

never my fault

accountability has never been something virginia has learned to take. there’s always someone within arm’s reach to blame, somehow never making things her fault. she’s always merely reacting to the actions of someone else. she’s been like this since she was a little girl. during her playground years, this would translate as virginia incessantly bugging her classmates to the point of them lashing out at her. of course, what most adults would see were the crying little girl who was being picked on, vi conveniently not mentioning how they had said no multiples times before before losing their temper on her. the older she got, the more trouble she seemed to get herself into. never acting alone and always putting the blame on whoever she managed to wrap into her mess. it’s evident with her relationship with others, the victim card being something she knows how to play all to well. whether it’s a fallout with a friend, a break-up with a significant other, even a fight with a siblings - she’ll say she’s never the one at fault. someone always did something leaving her to come out of it scot-free, at least that’s the story she’ll tell.

i just want to be loved

there’s an innate need of wanting to be loved. between the web of lies her mom made up, endless rom-com’s virginia grew up watching, and lack of love she received from both parents, she was definitely influenced at a young age to feel a certain way toward love. whether it was familial, platonic, or romantic, she’s always yearned for it. the need to be validated and liked by others stemming from just simply wanting love. she’s definintely a hopeless romantic at heart, falling way too hard, way too fast. she let’s her emotions get the best of her, usually in an unhealthy way that always leaves her feeling like as much as she wants to be loved, she either doesn’t deserve it or will never get it.

her own worst enemy

tw mention of mental illness - anxiety & depression

if there is one thing vi has always seemed to excel at, it’s been sabotaging herself. doesn’t really matter what the topic is, if there’s a chance things might go wrong, vi makes sure she’s the one that makes it go wrong before things have a chance to blow up on their own. there’s a sense of power that she feels she has with this, like if she can somehow control the situation, she can control her emotions upon the outcome of things? unsurprisingly, it never ends up working in her favor. her insecurities and fears always getting the best of her. at the end of the day, she hates herself too much to allow herself to be happy. it’s an annoying contradiction, considering how much she actually wishes to be happy. she’s just so set into her self-loathing ways that she sabatoges any type of happiness or success that seems to be near.

FUN BONUS —

alliterative name

her name was specifically picked as an alliterative name. first, going off the nickname ‘vi’ and finding what name fit: viviana, violet, viviette, were some of the contenders before picking virginia. hence, before the revamp she was virginia vinh and is now virginia viamontes.

#eutropes #tw emotional neglect #tw death mention #tw anxiety #tw depression

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winifredsandersonsbitch · 5 years ago

Text

Everybody Needs a Hobby

Spike x Summers! Reader

Warnings: some colorful language, implied smut, S5 spoilers mentioned

Description: You’re frustrated with the crude reality of life in Sunnydale. You want something you can love that won’t go up in flames. One night, you pick up a poetry book from the library and Spike stops by to give you a vivid reading.

You need something to take you out of the violence of your everyday life.

You try painting. Relaxing watercolors aided by books you pick up at the library, bright acrylics splashed across canvases. Soon your room is filled with artwork that ranges from clumsy to talented. You start giving paintings away to make space. Birthday presents for your friends, surprises for elderly neighbors, just-because gifts for Spike to make his crypt more colorful (he laughs at them, hurts your feelings a little, but the next time you’re in his bed you see them peeking out from behind a curtain). It works, for awhile, but you crave something less solitary. Plus your artwork takes a darker turn when you wake up from nightmares, which is frequently.

You turn to yoga classes at the YMCA. Twisting your body into poses is a different kind of hell after a night out with Buffy, but the stretches take so much of your focus that they force you to stop overthinking. Then your instructor turns out to be a former genie with a sinister agenda and you have to drop the class. It was getting expensive anyway.

You join a intermural volleyball team, but after a gruesome loss one of your teammates takes up the dark arts. You start baking and almost burn the house down. Even community service gets dangerous when the blood bank is ambushed by vampires.

“I’m just so frustrated,” you explain to Dawn one morning at breakfast. “I mean, I love all of these things and I want them to work out, but Sunnydale poisons everything. It’s like I can’t even have a hobby on the Hellmouth.”

She peels a banana with manicured fingers. You dropped her and her friend off at the salon last week and now it’s like every motion has to be fit for a hand commercial. “Fighting vampires is a hobby.”

“No, it’s a full-time job,” Buffy says, swiping an apple off the counter. “And (Y/n) already has two of those.”

“Well, there you go.” Dawn shrugs on her backpack. “You don’t need a hobby.”

You do, though. Spike insists on supplementing your income with his, so you’ve cut down your hours at the office and you’re only taking weekends at the diner. For the first time in years, you have time to relax. You don’t want to waste it.

Buffy spots the sour look on your face and nudges your arm. She drops the core in the trash and washes her hands under the sink.

“Maybe it’s time to go back to school,” Buffy suggests. “I know it’s the middle of the semester, but you could apply for next year.”

You don’t want to make her feel bad, especially since she’s in the same situation as you, but school doesn’t feel urgent when you’ve got the apocalypse going on every other year. Plus you don’t even know what you’d major in. There’s no degree for monster fighting.

“Yeah, maybe.” You finish your yogurt, check the time on your watch. “Come on, Dawn, I’ll drive you to school.”

After you drop her off, you head into the office. It’s slow today. The coffee machine gurgles to life every thirty minutes to keep the employees awake and the copier sits silent in disuse. Barbara and Anne giggle together in the annex over a tin of buttered cookies. The phone rings at the reception desk only twice in the morning. When you answer, no one’s there.

You spend most of the day looking up courses that you might be interested in. There are a few that catch your eye, but you can’t fathom how you’d put them together into a degree.

One of them, creative writing, jumps out at you. You used to write when you were in your early teens. Mostly angstsy poetry about how no one understood you and how invisible you felt. It’s embarrassing to look back on now, but then it had felt like a statement to the world.

Writing made you feel known. You gave it up when you went to college, mostly because it seemed impossible that it would ever amount to anything and partly because you didn’t have the time or energy to focus on it. College seems silly now, all that effort for a paper degree when you know what’s really out there, but if you went back you wouldn’t be going just for the degree. You’d be going because you love to learn.

It’s not so important that you get published and famous anymore. You don’t need the spotlight when you’ve already got the most important job in the world: taking care of your sisters. It’s fine to work in the office and at the diner where you’re nothing more to people than another employee. You know you’re making a difference, even if they never will.

But your heart aches a little for what you might’ve had if life hadn’t gotten in the way.

That night, you stop by the library to pick up some books. Just to see if you still have a passion for them the way you used to. Sunnydale’s library is open until ten p.m. and you stay curled up in an armchair in the fiction section until close. You check out four books to take with you: a poetry anthology, Little Women, a collection of short stories from around the world, and a YA novel. You figure that if you try all different genres, maybe you’ll land on something you love.

Your walk back to the house is uneventful, thankfully (having just renewed your library card, you don’t want to have it revoked if something sinister takes a bite out of your books). You have a late night snack with Dawn since Buffy is still out hunting and then take your books up to your room.

You leave the window open so you won’t have to get up if Spike drops by and curl up in bed with the anthology, a notebook on your bedside table in case of inspiration. You’re not totally sure when he comes in; it feels like hours and seconds since you opened the book. The words are swirling around in the soft light of the room, bouncing off the bed frame and the dresser, colliding with your closet door and knocking the paintings askew in their frames.

“Shouldn’t leave your window open like that, love. Something wicked might find its way in.”

His shirt is off already, you register, as he peels the book from your fingers and kisses you deeply. You make a noise of protest against his mouth and he pulls back, eyebrows raised.

“What the hell book is that, to have you so absorbed you don’t even notice me come in?” He picks it up, dangles it in front of you. “Can’t be porn. Because, obviously, what you’ve got in front of you is better than porn. You Summers. All repressed and self-righteous. If it’s the bloody Bible or The Guide to Enlightenment or some—”

“Don’t make fun of me, William,” you retort, snatching it out of his grasp. “It’s a good book.”

“Must be,” he scoffs. Then he reads the cover. His features flicker through three different emotions in the span of five seconds. “Poetry?”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not— Here, give me that.”

Grudgingly, you hand it over, and he settles in between your legs, his head resting on your breasts. He picks out the filthiest, most sexual poem he can find (which is still incredibly tame by his usual standards) and recites:

“‘I want a red dress. I want it flimsy and cheap, I want it too tight, I want to wear it until someone tears it off me. I want it sleeveless and backless, this dress, so no one has to guess what’s underneath. I want to walk down the street—’”

His voice is low, soft, like he’s switched into someone else in the moments between his choosing the poem and his reading it. It makes you shiver. His hand slides up your thigh, at odds with his careful, thoughtful voice.

“‘I want to walk like I’m the only woman on earth and I can have my pick. I want that red dress bad. I want it to confirm your worst fears about me—’” At this, he shifts position, moves the underwear beneath your pajama shorts aside and slides a finger up. You bite your lip. “‘—To show how little I care about you or anything except what I want.’ I like that one, what about you? ‘Confirm your worst fears?’ ‘How little I care about you or anything except what I want?’ Sound like someone you know?”

You hardly realize he’s switched from the poem to conversation until he pauses his ministrations beneath the bedsheet. He’s angled toward you now, one hand twisted under the sheets and his back against your inner thigh, a toothy grin on his face as he repays you for earlier.

“You’re such an ass.”

He ignores this instead of cutting in with his typical I’m evil, duh speech, nuzzles your neck. “I’d like to get you into a dress like that, love. Have you walk down the street in it, showing off—” He sucks at the skin, hard. You cry out. “But then we have to have a way of letting everyone know you’re mine, don’t we?”

“Spike.” His name comes out a moan, a quiet prayer.

“You want another poem? I’m liking this book.”

He returns to his regularly upright seated position, pretends to adjust his reading glasses, then flips through the pages, leaving you wanting. He lands on a sonnet, airing the words out to the open room as you squirm. Finally, you decide to take matters into your own hands, but he stops you, bursting into a new stanza.

“Here in the electric dusk your naked lover tips the glass high and the ice cubes fall against her teeth...”

He replaces your fingers with his own, guiding you through the poem with a small circles. When you beg, he undresses for you, sets the book down.

“You’re just an erotic hallucination,” he breathes, touching everything as if to make sure that the line isn’t true.

He’s teasing, but a part of him clings to these words in a sad, sweet way. When he’s finished and you’re spent, he rolls over onto the other side of the mattress and his mood shifts again.

“I loved a girl once,” he says, and it stings, even though he talked about Dru often when you first started up and even before, like he wished to hurt you into wanting him. “I wrote her this poem. I used to write a lot, before. I was hopeless that way.”

His voice isn’t soft now. It’s almost angry, like he has been during sex at some points. Passionate and raw and mad at someone that wasn’t you. Flickering back and forth between past and present.

“You probably would’ve liked William,” Spike says. He barks a strangled laugh. “He was just your type. A scrawny mama’s boy who lived through his books.”

He was almost gentle earlier. You can’t understand why he switches like this, between acting like he can’t go on without you and twisting the knife. You roll onto your side.

“Might’ve been, once,” you murmur. This pillow talk is almost worse than the nights when he leaves right after to get his fix, claiming you’ve made him hungry. “Boys like that wouldn’t look twice at me now.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, love.”

You can hear the smile in his voice though. He likes that your self-esteem is low. It feeds his ego, that he can hurt you even though he can’t drain you dry. He’s soulless, after all. On some level, he probably does need you like he says, but it’s not pure. It never will be. He can try to help you when it suits him, restrain himself from severing ties because he craves closeness, but he’s still Spike.

“They’re scared of me now.” Your arms cross under your breasts. You’re not self-flagellating tonight, not really. You’re in the mood for the truth. “They know.”

“Know what?”

“They know, on some level—” It sounds silly, only it isn’t, not to you. “—what I’ve done. And no amount of watercolors or yoga classes is going to change that.”

You didn’t realize it until you said it out loud, how much you were trying to be the girl you were before your mother’s death. How much you missed her and the almost casual slayage that was common before Glory. Sure, the world almost ended a couple times, but you knew how it would turn out in your heart. This— with Buffy, with Dawn— you have no idea.

You lapse into silence, purposefully even your breathing out so it seems you’ve fallen asleep. He gets up not long after, rustles around your room for a moment in a way that makes you nervous, and then pulls the window shut behind him as he exits onto the roof. You fall asleep at some point, drifting in and out of a dream featuring you at the office in a nightmare distortion of your boss’s birthday party until your alarm goes off.

You sit up and smack the button off, sending a piece of paper cascading to the floor. It isn’t until after you’ve brushed your teeth and fully woken up that you retrieve it. It takes you a full thirty seconds to process the first line of the pretentious and somewhat offensive poem Spike left you.

It’s disgusting. It’s explicit. It’s replete with words that you have to look up.

You love it.

When you go down to breakfast, Dawn cracks jokes about the dazed smile on your face until Buffy shushes her and sends her off to finish getting ready for school.

“Seriously, are you okay though?” she asks when the two of you are left to yourselves. You could ask her the same question, with the already scabbing gash on her forehead, but you settle for a quick shake of the head. You feel like you’re burning up, like she can see through you to all the things you did last night.

“No— I mean, I didn’t sleep well.” You pour yourself a cup of juice and take a seat at the table, trying to suffocate your grin. “But I think I found my new hobby.”

#fanfiction #spike x reader #spike #btvs season 5 #btvs #btvs x reader #buffy the vampire slayer

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