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anyarose011 · 2 months ago

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"I Would Not Change it Each Time" {Aemond x Reader}

Summary: After the assault you faced, all you wanted to do was crawl into your childhood bed and never come out. Yet, as days pass in with your absence, a certain prince regent takes notice.

Part 4 of 3 (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Past attempted SA, past grooming, emotional manipulation, coercion, and spoilers for future seasons

Heyyyyyy, it's meeeee. I'm SOO sorry it took almost 3 months for this entire chapter, but besides wrongfully starting/continuing other series, school has also been killing me. Also, despite this being a long ass chapter, I do not mean for it to sound rushed. I feel like how I ended this may be controversial, but I also wanted to keep it both happy and realistic; so please keep that in mind. I also imagine the character Evrin to be played by Assad Zaman, but you can imagine just any actor you personally find beautiful.

Word Count: 10.1k

You were still covered in his blood when you awoke, your wrist had turned brown, and you had finger shaped bruises on the inside of your thigh.

It was strange…despite ripping a man’s throat out with your teeth, you didn’t have any nightmares. What woke you up was having to use the chamber pot. Something so small and natural.

Dragging yourself out of your room, you stumbled through the hall and went into the closet with the chamber pot and shut the door. After relieving yourself in darkness, you left and was greeted by-.

“Seven Hells!” Your grandmother gasped. You jumped a little, only to then hiss in pain, clutching your stomach.

She held you up as best as she could. “Vivi, sweetie, what happened to you?”

You shook your head, only groaning and trying to escape her hold. Despite being in your state, you managed to slip away from her. She tried to follow after you, but you slammed the door in her face when you were back in your room.

Something caught your eye, and when you looked down, you were met with a sapphire; Aemond’s eye. You bent over slowly, picking up the gem with your unbroken wrist.

Without thinking clearly, you hobbled over to your dresser, opened the top drawer, and buried it under what little clothing you owned.

The dress on you had become too heavy, so you slipped it off your body and collapsed onto your bed; falling into the darkness of sleep once more.

You must have been dreaming, because you thought you heard your grandmother call you by your name for the first time in a while.

Opening your eyes, you were too weak to even sit up in alarm at her standing over you. Your heart quickened and soon slowed once you realized it was just her eyes staring back at you (and not a man’s).

“What happened?” She touched your face.

You groaned, turning away. “Really bad job.”

“Let’s clean you up.”

“Tired.” You inched yourself under your covers, hitching your breath with each movement.

Gigi frowned. “You’ve slept the day away; the sun will set soon.”

“It hurts to move.”

“Then I’ll bring in the pail and rag.”

“Just let me rest.”

She placed her hands on her hips, glaring. “You’re covered in blood that I hope is not yours.”

“Most of it isn’t.”

Sighing, Gigi begged. “At least eat something.”

You laughed painfully. What was there to eat? You only had but a few slices of bread, two carrots, and a little less than a pound of cheese. You were considered wealthy even by those standards. Aemond had closed off all the ports…

No one could get in, and no one could get out; including food.

“It’s not funny.” She frowned. “I’m going to make you something, and you will eat it.”

Gigi didn’t give you enough time to say ‘no’. She wandered out of the room, leaving you alone. The only time you moved to get out of bed that hour was to force yourself onto your feet and lock the door.

No matter how much she banged on wood or cried and begged for you to let her help, you did not open it.

It hurt to cry, but how else would you mourn your old body before it had been bruised and beaten?

You heard countless horrific memories the girls in Sylvi’s brothel would share of being violated; many worse than yours. Still, just as how nothing could’ve prepared you for how pleasureful sex could be, the same was for the pain it brought.

Gigi lessened her attempts in trying to get you to come out of your room. She’d manage to slide food under your door, and you only would eat when you were sure she was away.

Most of the days (how long had it been since you last saw a familiar face?) you spent under the covers in your bed. If you were not sleeping, your mind would wander. Seldomly, it would be to happier memories of your childhood, your mother, Aemond…

And then they would turn cold and dark; especially at the thought of him.

And then you would cry again, and then your eyes would hurt.

It wasn’t an hour later when you were still under the covers that you heard a man’s voice coming from outside your door. No, he did not knock, he kicked it open. You only had time to flinch at the abrupt entrance before Gigi’s voice broke through.

“How dare you! You’ll frighten her even more than she already is, you mindless oaf!”

“I worry for her.”

Aemond…what was he doing here?!

“Do you think I have been neglecting her all this time?” She dared.

“No.”

“Then…please be gentle with her.” Gigi gritted her teeth, and you heard her leave the room, shutting the door but it creaking slightly open.

Sighing, you pictured Aemond turning to look at the lump on the bed that was you. “Do you have any idea the troubles your grandmother would have faced if I were not outside the Red Keep today?”

Silence was your reply.

“It’s almost sunset, if you were wondering.”

You said nothing again, and that was enough for him.

“There I was, heading to spar and clear my mind from the past few days, and I see her rattling the gates, begging the guards to speak to Jahearys.” He hissed. “Had I not rushed over in time, they would have seen it as insult and…”

Though you had no more tears left to cry, the pain in your chest was heavier than ever at the thought of your grandmother being killed like a dog simply for her dwindling mind. Aemond sighed, and you felt a dip at the foot of your bed.

“It was already a risk to travel into the city now. Many of the smallfolk are…troublesome. I’ve neglected you for a day, and I apologize for leaving without telling you two nights ago, but you should not hold that against me. I went to see you last night and you were not there. I asked every girl in that brothel, and they either did not know, or refused to tell me anything more than that you were hurt. I offered coin, and they did not take it.” He scoffed. “I’ve never seen a whore turn away gold. You must mean the world to them.”

Never in your life had you thought that.

“Will you look at me?”

You didn’t want him to. He had caressed and gazed upon every inch of your body, but you wanted to sink into the mattress underneath you, and then into the earth so he could never find you.

But you didn’t get to do that.

The blanket was ripped off you, the cold air of your bedroom penetrating your bare body. On your back, cradling your wrist to your chest, you watched as Aemond sat above you. The eyepatch he wore only proved that he had rushed over from the Red Keep. For the first time since you had known him, you saw that look on his face: Fear.

His mouth parted as his wide eye ran over your body; every bruise and scratch, and all the blood that had tried to meld itself into your skin. His eye lingered on the inside of your thighs, and you whimpered when he placed his hand on the bruises of it.

“Who did this to you?”

His voice hadn’t changed. He asked it as if he was wondering how your day had gone.

Your breathing stuttered when you attempted to glare at him. “The man you sent to have pleasure with me.”

Aemond’s eye softened. “What?”

You forced yourself to sit up despite your painful cries. “Leave me.”

He said your name, sitting at your side and placing his hands on your shoulders. “I haven’t sent anyone-.”

“-Stop!”

“Wait-!”

“-Go away!” You shoved him, trying to stand, but his hands gripped your waist too tightly as he forced you back down onto the bed.

“Listen to me when I speak to you.” He commanded, but you still struggled beneath him. When you were nearly out of his grip, he gripped your face in his hands. “I said listen to me!”

You were both out of breath, huffing together as you calmed your racing heart. His voice was heavy with emotion, and tears were beginning to form.

He took a shuttering breath. “When all of this is over, it’s you who will bear my children. Even if I have to marry a Lannister or a Martell, I will not lay a finger on them. I will be king when Aegon is dead, and it will not matter what my mother, fucking Larys, or any of them think! Centuries will pass and history will remember you as my wife. How could you believe I would ever send a man to taint you after everything you have done? You-you have been the first and the only to ever show me kindness. Do you hear me?! I love you.”

“You’re hurting me.” You sobbed as he squeezed you tighter and tighter.

Aemond immediately loosened his hold but held you close. You placed your hands on his shoulders, steadying yourself through your sniffling breaths. He dried your tears with his hand. “Avy jorrāelan. Say it.”

“Aemond.” You shut your eyes.

“Avy jorrāelan.” He kissed them both and trailed his lips over every inch of your face.

Relaxing into his embrace, if you cradled yourself any closer to him you would sink into his skin. He held you for what you wished was the rest of your lifetime.

He set you down too quickly but shushed you when you protested. “I need to fetch hot water to clean you and wrap your wrist. It’s broken.”

Aemond disappeared from your room. When you finally managed to sit up with the pillow supporting behind you, he came back in with a bucket of steaming water, some cloth, and two sticks from the fireplace.

He first began on your wrist, wrapping the cloth around your elbow to your wrist. He then placed the sticks alongside your arm, securing them with more of the cloth tied tightly around on the ends.

After that, he took another spare piece of cloth and dipped it into the water, wringing it out and placing it upon your face. You inched away, hissing.

“Does it hurt?” He asked.

“A little.” You whispered. “It’s warm and…and…”

“What is it?”

“It’s silly.”

“Tell me.”

Swallowing thickly, you professed “I feel-I feel like I’d be more relaxed if I wasn’t the only one…bare.”

He looked at you, nodding. “You’re right, that is silly.”

You thought you were being overdramatic how you felt in that moment; you had just gone through something frightening, of course you would be red in the face at his comment.

Still, you weren’t for long. The Prince Regent, the kinslayer who could wipe out all of Kings Landing with just the snap of his fingers, slipped off his eyepatch and his shirt.

“Is that better?” He grinned.

You nodded. Aemond tried his best to be gentle as he cleaned the blood off you. There were times though he’d have to scrub until your skin turned red. When he was finished, he tossed the cloth onto the floor.

“Your nose is bruised, along with your ribs. Besides your wrist, nothing is broken; just abrasions.” He explained.

Again, you merely nodded. Aemond titled his head before unlacing and kicking his shoes off, then bringing his hands to the ties of his trousers. Once untied, he pulled them down along with his undergarments, his cock springing free.

You sat up, your body tense. “No. I-I don’t want-.”

“-Neither do I.” He sat on the empty side of your bed, lifting up the blanket. “Let us hide and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”

You didn’t have to be asked again. Slowly as to not damage yourself, you finally slipped yourself under the covers, and Aemond followed.

As soon as you were completely covered, you enveloped yourself around him; your legs intertwining each other and pressing your chest against his. He wrapped his arms around you, fingertips traveling up and down your back. You hid your face within the crook of his neck, and it was then, when you felt safe, did tears fall.

“I didn’t send him.” Aemond repeated into your hair. “You must know that.”

“Where were you?” You cried.

A shameful sigh escaped him. “The Red Keep. A messenger came for me; my brother had taken a turn for the worst.”

“You said you would stay.”

He only pulled you closer. “Tell me what happened.”

“He-.” You took a quaking breath. “He tried to rape me.”

“But you didn’t let him.”

Your lips moved, but barely a sound let them.

He hummed. “What was that?”

“I’m a monster.”

Aemond shook his head. “There is nothing you could have done that would be more horrific than anything I would do if he were still alive.”

“I ripped his throat out with my own mouth.” His gaze traveled down to you, and you shrunk under it. “I-I had to pretend I enjoyed kissing him; I had nothing to defend myself but my teeth.”

“Fine then; you’re a monster.” Your eyes grew round with fright, but before you could refute, he continued. “You are a monster who fought for your survival and won. I know a number of men who would have crumbled if they wore your skin that night. You bared your teeth and refused to lie down and let him steal you. I’ve been told until my ears bleed that every woman is the image of the Mother, but I have not believed it until I saw you tonight. Painted in the blood of the man that had tried to taint you, you have never looked more beautiful.”

Tears had returned to your eyes before you could stop them, and he kissed each one that fell. You pulled away from him to lie flat on your back but clutched his hand.

“It was the man at the brothel when I was first wounded. The one who said he’d give me a little death.” You whispered. “Sylvi came in after I killed him. She-she said you left with a man and…”

His hand went to your cheek, making you look at him. “I did not send him.”

“I know.” Your words were immediate. “I…I think she did.”

“Why?”

You covered your mouth to swallow a sob forming. Breathing deeply, you took your hand away. “She was envious of me, she was envious of you, maybe she thought I was distracted-.”

“-Why would she be envious of me?”

“She had feelings for my mother.” You admitted tiredly. “She was drunk one night and told me. I jested in my mind that perhaps those feelings carried over to me because she’d constantly tell me I looked exactly like my mother. I don’t know for certain but…”

He ran his fingers through your hair. “Every ounce of struggle you have faced has only made you even more fierce.”

“You are not the first nor the last man who will tell me that.”

Aemond hummed, interested in your words. “How old were you when you first heard it?

“Ten, when I went to the pleasure house to find my mother. Thank the Seven I didn’t wander into any men wanting to bed me, but I found a few who were fine speaking to me about their life; their wives, children, and how they hated them. Maybe they wanted to fuck me, maybe they didn’t; I don’t know. All I knew was that I was excellent at talking to them; and I shouldn’t have been.”

He said nothing, nor made a sound. No words of comfort, no verbal indication of anything.

No, he did something far greater.

Aemond moved down the bed until he came to your legs, parting them gently. As you were raising your neck up to see what he was doing, you felt his lips on your stomach. He kissed your skin then up to the scar on your side.

Your breath hitched as he covered it with affection, all the while, tenderly stroking your hip. There was something else that weighed on your mind. Something that wouldn’t matter to him, but it mattered to you. Your hand trailed down into his hair, stopping him.

“You need to tell me the truth with what I ask you next.”

He glanced up at you as his head was still between your legs. “Go on.”

“Would-.” You sniffled. “If that man had violated me…would you have been disgusted with me?”

He lowered his mouth to your center. He didn’t kiss your cunt, but instead, the bruises close to it. “I will skin the part of any man that touches you, even if it is his shoulder that brushes yours in a crowded street.”

You hated how often you cried that night, more so from his tenderness than of sorrow. Still, it was perhaps the first time in all your life you felt cherished. You felt safe.

“Av-avy,” You babbled, both from the overwhelming emotions and the already difficult pronunciation. “Avy jor-joral.”

Aemond trailed his kisses up your body until they hovered over your mouth, his hands by your head to hold himself above you. He said the words again, slowly.

“Avy jorrāelan.”

You repeated after him. “Avy jorrailaan.”

He cupped your face in his hand, his thumb caressing your lips and whispering into them. “Avy.”

“Avy.” You matched his volume.

“Jorr.”

“-āelan.”

“Say it to me.” His mouth was so close to yours.

Sighing at the feeling, you finally said. “Avy jorrāelan.”

He kissed you like you’d never been kissed before. He kissed you before with shyness, vigor, passion, but never like this. It was a kiss that held a safety to it; where you felt as if he could protect you from the darkest corners of the world, and the darkest parts of your own mind.

When he pulled away, he rested beside you, running his fingers through your hair. You wrapped your arms around him, trapping him in your embrace.

“I wish we knew each other when we were children.” He gently confessed in the silence of the night.

You nodded against him, then asked. “Will you stay with me tonight?”

He kissed the hollow of your throat. “I’ll be here when you awake.”

“Thank you.”

“You do not need to.”

“No,” you corrected. “thank you for being the first to kiss me. If not…then it would’ve been with the man a few nights ago.”

“Sleep.” He uttered your name into your ear.

And you did.

You don’t remember what you dreamed of, but you know that it wasn’t either bad nor good; it was just strange.

What you certainly remember was Aemond stirring beside you.

You were on your back, but you hadn’t opened your eyes when you awoke. His arm that was once draped over you left, and he slid out of the blankets. You listened as he tried to quietly shuffle around the room, putting his clothes back on. When you heard him sitting to put his shoes on, you finally looked at him.

“What are you doing?” Your voice was hoarse.

He glanced up at you, his eyepatch already on. Sighing, he finished lacing up his first boot. “The sun will be rising soon.”

“How do you know that? You said you’d stay until I woke up.”

“And you’re awake.” He moved onto his other shoe.

“Because of you.”

Aemond groaned your name. “I cannot spend the morning here and cook you and your grandmother breakfast. My brother is on the brink of death, the realm is in shambles, and I don’t even want to ponder what Rhaenyra’s next course of action is.”

“You gave me your word.”

“Did you even listen to any of the words I said just now?”

“I was almost raped and murdered!” You cried, sitting up. “You cannot do this one thing I-?”

“-And how many women will be if I am unable to prevent the Pretender from stealing the throne?” He challenged.

Your face dropped along with your heart. If your body wasn’t weak, you would have left the bed, your room, and perhaps even the house. You wouldn’t know where to go, but you just had to be away from him.

It scared you how that was your first thought.

Upon seeing the fear in your eyes, Aemond sighed, shaking his head. After finishing with his other boot, he sat on the side of your bed.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He ran his finger over your arm. “I do not want what happened to you to happen to any other woman or child. I only want you to be safe.”

You nodded, your gaze dropping to your lap.

He put his hand under your chin to look at him, saying your name. “I do love you. You must understand that.”

You took his hand, lightly kissing his palm and whispering into it. “Avy jorrāelan.”

A hint of a smile spread across his cheeks, and he stood swiftly. “I will not be able to see you on the morrow, but the day after that, I will meet you at Sylvi’s.”

“I-I won’t be able to perform-.”

“-Does it surprise you I only wish for your mere presence?” He questioned. “You’re not a whore; you are perhaps my greatest treasure.”

With one last kiss upon your head, he left. You heard the front door shut, and you were left stark naked in your bed.

You didn’t cry, you didn’t even feel like wanting too. You had never felt the way you had with him. You never laughed like that in your life until you met him, you had never been so in love with someone. He was a perfect match for your intelligence and your humor.

He never hurt you as you made love. He’d leave his own marks, but the moment you told him ‘no’, or said that you were in pain, he’d stop. He’d pull every orgasm out of you with such ease, like your bodies had been made for each other.

Gods above and devils below, you wanted to wear his skin and become one with him.

And yet…you still felt strange.

You were just sitting there in your darkened room, wrapped in your blankets and staring at the blank wall in front of you. You hadn’t even noticed Gigi came into your room until she was right beside you, holding a tray with two slices of bread and a steaming bowl.

“They say a Targaryen sent ships to feed us.” She smiled, sitting at the foot of your bed and placing the tray down. “Marija managed to fight some men for vegetables and chicken of all things!”

The soup was thick and filled with all the contents she mentioned that Marija fought for. It took everything within you to savor it and not burn your mouth while devouring it. You ate silently while Gigi took a slice of bread and dipped it into the soup.

“I thought Jaehaerys would never leave. He’s a nice young man, but-.”

“-How did you know you were in love with that Dornish man?”

She glanced up at you, and after getting over her initial shock, she smiled. “You mean my Qoren?”

“No, that’s not his name.”

“But it is.” She beamed. “He gave me a false one at first but then told me after he had enough drink.”

You giggled with her, despite already being told the story several times. Still, what she was saying was new.

Gigi continued. “Oh, he was so lovely. You know they say Dornish men are passionate, and Seven Hells he was. There was one night after he walked me home-.”

“-What else?” You asked, not particularly wanting to speak of her intimate life and categories of men from Dorne.

“He was gentle with me.” She recounted, grinning shyly. “Not just with my body but with my mind. He loved me proudly too, and loudly. If there were any other men in a tavern who tried to grab onto me, he’d tell the lot of them I was his and that he was mine.”

You smiled. “He sounded very kind.”

“He was.” She nodded. “His eyes were green; very unusual for anyone from Dorne…or were they blue? Or-or were they just brown?”

Sighing you set your meal aside, embracing her. “Were his eyes nice?”

“They were my favorite part of him.” Gig admitted softly.

You hummed, pulling away. “I wish to be alone. Is that alright?”

She rubbed your cheek. “Of course. Please come get me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

She left the half-eaten supper with you, and walked out of your bedroom, trying to shut the door completely.

As you lay in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, your mind began to ponder. You had been a secret to everyone in Aemond’s life. You were certain no one within the Red Keep knew of your affair, let alone your existence.

But the people in your life, Sylvi, the girls, even your own grandmother? Of course they were aware of you two.

You understood to an extent; what would the royal council in their fancy castle think if the prince regent had fallen in love with a member of the Smallfolk? Would it be better if you were a prostitute?

Immediately, you thought ‘no’ because of Lady Mysaria. There would be past gossip you’d hear throughout the silk street of the whore who had been married to one Prince Daemon and had nearly birthed his child.

It was then that you remembered the war that had been simmering within the walls of Kings Landing for weeks at that point. No doubt, with so much death from both sides, would it finally take place. Thus, you were forced to determine what would happen with only your personal knowledge of the situation.

The best outcome is that the Greens win the war, Aegon dies one way or another, and Aemond is named king. You are his royal concubine while he marries a noble girl, but he never beds her. You are the mother to all his children, and you live comfortably in the Red Keep for the rest of your days.

You would have done the impossible amongst the Smallfolk; be chosen by the prince out of genuine love and not of lust or a weapon in an issue of the family.

Yet, you had many concerns. The first being you didn’t understand how he could be married to a woman from a different house yet not have her produce an heir without being ridiculed by her family. Was that unimportant?

And how was Aemond so certain of his own brother’s passing? Would he be responsible for it if he were to make a recovery?

As these questions rattled on, you then had to face the worst outcome.

On the off chance they would lose, and Rhaenyra was to take the throne as you were officially Aemond’s lover…you had read it in one of the books Aemond had brought you to teach you his mother tongue.

‘When the winners slaughter and maim the man in battle, they shall rape and torture his woman in her own home.’

That was what made your head ache, and you try to sleep. The phrase plagued your mind for hours as you tossed and turned.

The next day, you finally left the house. Draped in the same hood you stole on your night out with Aemond, you entered Sylvi’s pleasure house with your heart churning in your stomach. You felt sick as soon as you stepped into the doorway. A young girl whose name you couldn’t remember was sweeping the entrance.

“We’re not opened yet,” she said. “the men and women need to rest before you can dive your cock into them.”

You pulled your hood down, revealing your bruised and battered face. She stood still at the sight of you and said your name softly. “What happened?”

“I need to speak with Valda and Chansey.” You uttered.

She swallowed, nodding and dashing up the stairs. You leaned against the wall to steady yourself, your wounds still extremely tender. Sooner than you thought, the two women came rushing down the stairs.

Valda’s face fell upon seeing the state of you, and she was by your side in a moment. “Gods above.”

“Is Sylvi here?” You questioned.

Chansey took a quivering breath, coming to your other side and resting her hand on your cheek. She whispered your name. “She…she’s gone.”

Your stomach only tied itself into more knots. “What?”

“No one’s seen her since last night.” She explained. “We looked in her room, but she wasn’t there.”

You dropped your eyes to the floor as they led you to one of the curtained off rooms in the great hall. Normally, you would’ve refused to even step foot into one of them, but your need to sit was far greater.

“You limped out of here after being brutally raped, and you haven’t been here for days.” Valda scolded, but you could hear the pain behind it. “Aemond comes in demanding where you are, and we are none the wiser. What exactly happened?”

Your eyes furrowed as you glanced up at her. “I-I wasn’t raped. I mean, I was almost, but I killed him.”

“You what?!”

“I ripped his throat out.” You explained. “Sylvi came in soon after and said it was Aemond who sent the man. I went home, and a few days later, Aemond came to tell me he didn’t. I-I think it was Sylvi.”

The girls glanced at one another as they processed your account. Valda spoke first. “It…it doesn’t seem out of the ordinary. There was one night when Aegon arrived with other men, seeking Sylvi. Unbeknownst to him, Aemond was here with her. After being taunted, Aemond let them do whatever they wanted to her.”

You didn’t know that, and if you had been told it prior to being attacked, perhaps you would’ve looked upon Aemond with more disgust. What you felt was more so perplexion; did Sylvi send a man to assault you to get back at Aemond for letting men do the same, or did Aemond only see you as a warm place for men to stick their cocks?

No…he loved you. He told you in Common and in High Valyrian.

“You believe she did it to spite him?” You asked.

Valda shook her head. “I only tell you what I know. We all know how dangerous a woman is when she is scorned.”

“I wouldn’t preach the importance of consent and then send a man to molest a girl I’ve known since she was a child!”

“Is it easier for you to believe that Aemond sent him then?!”

You never heard Chansey speak so desperately. What she meant to yell in anger, she instead cried in shame. Her breath quivered in an attempt to repress tears, and both you and Valda coddled her.

“What is it?” You questioned.

She swallowed before speaking. “There was one night but a week ago you hadn’t met with Aemond here, wasn’t there?”

“Chansey-.”

“-You weren’t here one night because he told you the one prior he had to attend to a council meeting.”

Your mouth parted. “How-how did you know?”

“He asked for eight girls to be sent to the Red Keep.” She whispered. “I was one of them. There was no meeting; we were there to entertain and to please.”

“What do you mean?”

Chansey said your name softly, taking your face into her hands. “I had no say in what he wanted to do to me, or what I to do to him.”

It would have been gentler for her to stick a dagger into your heart and twist it. You thought you had used up all of your tears days prior, but as you sat in that curtained room, you were proven wrong.

You sank into her embrace, feeling Valda wrap her arms around you from behind. Tiny sobs left your throat, but that was it.

“Did he hurt you?” You managed to ask.

She shook her head. “I was worried about hurting you.”

“No.” You pulled away, wiping your face. “You didn’t want to. He…he…”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Stop!” You cried. “Stop it. It’s his…he…what?”

Valda brushed your hair. “May I ask you something?”

“Okay…”

She took a deep breath, dropping her volume. “The three of us and all of King’s Landing knows that the war has already started, it is just a matter of time before it comes here. One of the captain’s my brother works for has offered us passage out of the city; I am allowed to bring one other person.”

“How? You asked first. “They’re not letting any ship in or out of King’s Landing.”

Valda smirked. “Who says they won’t?”

“What?”

“No matter.” She shook her head. “We will make for Pentos first, and then after, everyone may go to where they desire.”

“That-that will take weeks-.”

“-Weeks to be free over years of possible suffering.” She said your name. “You do not need to say yes…but please think of it.”

Your eyes drifted to Chansey. “Are you not jealous?”

She smiled. “When she thought you were in paradise with the prince, she asked me. My answer is no; my life is in King’s Landing, whether the Targaryens want to make it a living hell or not.”

The offer was tempting…start a new life, leave everything behind and be anyone you wished to be. Still…

“My grandmother.” You stated. “What of her?”

She sighed. “You stay with her or leave without her.”

“But-but is there any way you can speak with your brother? You mustn’t be letting on too many people-.”

“-They are sailors making a profit off of people’s fears.” She interrupted. “Where they are merciful in the offer, they are still greedy.”

It was then that it hit you; the genuine possibility of leaving her behind. What were you to do? She couldn’t take care of herself, but what would happen if the Greens lost? What if they won?

How much of Aemond’s vow was true?

Would it be kinder to tell her you were leaving, or just running away?

Would she even notice?

“When can I give my answer?” You asked.

She swallowed thickly. “We’re leaving tomorrow at the crack of dawn.”

So…no time to ponder what to do. Taking a deep breath, you folded your hands and nodded. “My presence or lack thereof will be my answer.”

“I understand.” She held your face in her hands, saying your name. “The third tower on the left of the Iron Gate. That is where we shall meet. Do what you must.”

You embraced her and then Chansey as if your final answer was that you were staying; it wasn’t, but you decided to act as if it was. The whole day had exhausted you, and you didn’t even want to try to find Sylvi; what would you have even said to her? So, you merely made your way back to your house.

You sat there on your bed, holding yourself and pretending your arms were someone else’s; but whose? Gigi? Valda? Your Mother? …Aemond?

Sighing, you had gone over in your head for the hundredth time the endless possibilities of either staying or going.

If you stayed, no matter what, there would be war.

If you left, no matter what, there would be war.

If you stayed, Aemond would possibly keep his promise and treat you like a queen once he was king (though, he never promised you would be the queen).

If you left, you could travel outside of King’s Landing and perhaps be the first in your family to ever do so; see the beauty of all of Westeros.

If you stayed, you could die (but you’d be with Gigi).

If you left, you could die (but you’d be with Valda).

And those were the thoughts that flooded your mind for hours, even when the day bled into night, and with the absence of the sun, came the coldness of the moon.

You got up once you began to shiver, and the blankets weren’t enough to shield you from the freezing air. You pulled out the top drawer of your dresser, pulling out the few clothes you had to layer up.

Something blue fell to the ground with a ‘clang!’

Looking down, it shined in your eyes, blinding you momentarily. You bent down and picked it up.

The sapphire…the forgotten sapphire.

Just as soon as the air had left your lungs, it returned with vigor. You left your room, and knocked on the door of Gigi’s. You didn’t wait for her answer before barging in.

She lay on the bed, knitting and looking up at you.

“Vivi?” she questioned. “What is it?”

You showed her the gem in the palm of your hand, and asked quietly as if you were a child again. “Would you like to visit Dorne with me?”

You didn’t sleep that night; and perhaps that is horrible, but you are still alive. After packing lightly, you and Gigi left an hour before dawn; having enough time to quietly navigate the streets of King’s Landing, all the while avoiding the City Watch, and helping Gigi.

Once you arrived at the third tower on the left of the Iron Gate, you saw perhaps four people there in total. All bearing similar, darkened cloaks that you and Gigi wore.

Immediately, you recognized Valda’s eyes. They were filled with joy for only a moment until they saw Gigi.

She said your name with a warning. “She can’t-.”

“-Let me speak to the captain.” You bargained.

The tallest man among you approached, a straight look on his face. “I assume you are the one Valda requested?”

You nodded.

“So then…why have you brought an old woman with you?”

“Wherever I go, so does she.”

“We cannot-.”

From your pocket, you took the sapphire and held it in front of his eyes that had grown to the size of plates.

“The Eye of the Prince Regent.” You affirmed. “If you wish to not call it that when you sell it for hundreds if not thousands of dragons, that is fine by me. Just know that if you do not take the both of us, I shall return it to Prince Aemond myself and perhaps I shall tell him of who refused to take it.”

It was a horrible thing to say, especially with Valda staring at you as if you were carrying a disease. The captain eclosed his hand in yours that held the jewel, shaking it,

“There’s no need to threaten, now.” His smile tightened. “It’ll just be a tight fit.”

You didn’t know exactly what he meant by that, but you didn’t have any other choice than to trust him. Soon after your bargain, the now six of you approached the gates. The captain had paid off one of the guards, because that was the only explanation you could draw from how the gate was opened.

All of you moved swiftly to the beach, and there waiting on the shore, was one of the ships Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen had sent to feed the Smallfolk. It had been pillaged clean, and the captain was right; it was certainly a tight fit.

Yet…everything somehow fell into place. You would make way to Sharp Point first, where the captain had a contact and could only hope would give him a bigger ship. Still, just the mere thought of escaping King’s Landing was enough.

You spent nearly a week on that small boat, and it was a miracle you did not run out of food to feed all six of you. You had grown seasick for the first few days, but it soon surpassed.

Your stay in Sharp Point was short. Gratefully, the captain had managed to convince his friend to give him the ship he hoped for.

Not from the kindness of his heart; only from the sapphire he had recently obtained.

Much debate had gone into how long the five of you should stay in Sharp Point to recover from the week long journey. The ship had also gained a few other travelers who wished to board, considering its size.

Once the ship was acquired, it was settled that you would all leave the next morning.

You would make for Pentos first, then Tyrosh, and finally, Sunspear. It would take a month at least, two at most. You assumed that nothing noteworthy would happen on the journey until perhaps a week or two while at sea.

Never did you expect, as you sat above deck with your grandmother on the first day, to watch as Vhagar soared through the sky above you. You didn’t even see Aemond as he rode her.

To the majority of the people on board, it was an hour-long conversation of excitement and fear. To the few who knew of what had happened between you and the Prince Regent…it kept the lot of you up the whole night.

It wasn’t until you passed by another ship a week later, that it was revealed Aemond Targaryen had set fire to Sharp Point. If you had stayed in the city just a day longer…

The thought alone kept you up for two nights.

Nothing else happened until you awoke one morning having to throw up. It perplexed you; you hadn’t gotten sick from the motion of the boat since journeying to Sharp Point. You grew weary after it stayed with you for a few days, assuming it was a sickness.

When no one else showed any signs of illness, it only wore on you even more. Valda had brought the one doctor on board to you, and he confirmed something you always knew but never wanted to speak aloud:

You were with child.

You were a foolish girl; of course you thought he had genuinely loved you, he was the person you gave your maidenhood too. Still, you had Valda and your grandmother to support you through the long days of sickness and hormonal shift, as well as the nights of depression.

Rumors spread across the ship when it had been evident you were pregnant. Luckily, orders from Valda and the captain (because you were the sole reason he had gotten the ship in the first place), commanded that if there were to be any more gossip around the father of your child, they would be thrown overboard.

The captain was bluffing of course, but you knew Valda wasn’t. Still, the rumors began to stop.

It was a long month and a half on that boat, only with a few days on Pentos and Tyrosh. Yet finally, you landed in Sunspear; the capital of Dorne.

To your dismay, Valda wouldn’t be staying with you. Deciding that she enjoyed traversing the sea with her brother, she said it was better for her to stay with him.

“We will see each other again.” She held your hands tightly. “Even if it is when you are holding a swaddling child. There are always rich lords and ladies who wish to spend their holidays in a beautiful place as this.”

You wiped your tears away. “I love you. Please don’t do anything rash to get yourself killed.”

“When have I ever?” She kissed your cheek, walking backwards to still look at you. “Bringing you and Gigi was completely sound.”

With what little money you and your grandmother brought, you secured a room in an all-women’s boarding house. Even with it being only for women…that did not stop them from inviting partners over; men or women.

You had known how free people were with affection and sex in Dorne, yet it was different seeing, hearing, and gods above, even smelling it. Despite working in a brothel since you were essentially a child, it more so off put you how…how happy people were.

It should come as a surprise to no one; not every girl working in a pleasure house wants to be there. Almost every sexual act you witnessed was one where the girl wasn’t so willing or desiring to do. You thought that part of you had been healed with Aemond, and perhaps it was…but of course you felt tainted at the end of all things.

Perhaps you were jealous, perhaps it was the pregnancy hormones, or perhaps it was just culture shock.

You never found out what had happened to Sylvi; although, you had a suspicion Aemond had something to do with her disappearance…you do not know how you would handle it if it were ever confirmed.

The one large difference that eased you within Dorne, was their treatment of bastards. Seven Hells, most of the women at the boarding house had bastards, yet were never treated any differently when they would go outside.

Yet…if your child were to be cursed with their father’s white hair…than you weren’t sure how well they would be treated.

You spent more time trying to find Qoren, the man who was Gigi's first love. It did not take long before it was revealed he shared the same name with the current prince of Dorne; making him the grandfather to him.

So there was a reason he had given Gigi a fake name…and there was little chance you would get a meeting with him of all people.

Still, you did not drag your ailing grandmother across the sea only to escape possible prosecution in the Dance of the Dragons (that was what the Smallfolk were calling it as you overheard conversations of whether or not the war would come to Dorne).

With a large amount of luck, you secured a job as a tailor for the prince’s daughters. With a miraculous miracle…you were to be welcomed with a feast.

You brought Gigi without question, wearing both the finest outfits you could find. Another thing about the Dornish was how extravagant in joy their festivities were. Even though it wasn’t anything like a fancy ball you assumed many of the lords and ladies in Kings Landing would host, it did not make you feel less alive.

You had almost forgotten your entire purpose for being at the feast as you socialized with several people, until the music suddenly stopped along with the excitement. At the head of the room where the members of the Martell family sat, you watched as the old Prince Qoren slowly made his way through the crowds of people who were once dancing.

He stopped in front of your grandmother, who was sitting by herself, and kneeled down to be at height with her. In the quietness, everyone heard him utter with his throat growing tight.

“Yelena?”

You’d nearly forgotten that was her true name.

Gigi's mouth parted at the sight of him, and with no shame or hesitance, she gently placed her hand upon his cheek. She smiled.

“I knew your eyes were green.”

20 Years Later

“Mama, may I speak with you?”

Despite your eldest daughter Siobhan, named after your mother, being nine and ten, she still spoke to you with the same gentleness she had as a child.

Oh…and how beautiful she was even then.

She was born with her father’s curly hair that was white as Northern snow, and his mouth; yet, she had your eyes and nose. When she grew up, there was no possibility in hiding who she was; considering no other children or adults for that matter shared her hair.

Stil…with the help of the Martell family, and the overall understanding of the Dornish people, neither you nor Siobhan were ever ridiculed.

When Gigi and Qoren were reunited at the feast, you and she were essentially treated like royalty. You lived in the palace with them, spending most days exploring and learning of your grandmother and her lover’s history as they begun to rekindle their relationship.

They never married though; a mere four moons after they found one another…Gigi died.

To try and soothe yourself and Qoren, you had accepted she passed after fulfilling her lifelong goal to find her true love again and felt safe to finally leave this earth once finished.

You were surprised yourself that your birth had not been premature from the stress…but you had someone else to guide you through your grief.

Evrin Sand was the leader of the Dornish Guard, and close companions with the younger Prince Qoren. When you first met him, he presented himself as stoic and silent. Yet, there was something that attracted you to him.

Call it an interest in mystery, call it your past self being drawn to the quiet ones, but it felt different.

It certainly was different; the more you got to know him, the gentler you found him to be. He smiled more often around you, and he never needed to pull you into private areas so much as to speak with you.

He was the first person you confided to about Aemond while you were pregnant, and he never once judged you. When Siobhan was born, he raised her as if she were his own; after you consented of course.

You knew he had a deeper fondness for you, and you with him. Yet, he understood the torment you went through with Aemond and was patient with you.

Three years later, and after much time for healing, you found yourself marrying him. Not so long after, you were blessed with your first boy, Leandro.

Another three years after that, your son Yeray came. Four years later, Yanette was your first and last daughter with Evrin; deciding that four children was perfect.

She was six when Siobhan entered the dress store you owned, and she immediately ran to her older sister.

“Shivi!” Yanette cheered, wrapping her arms around her waist.

Siobhan laughed, the tension leaving her shoulders as she picked her up. “Hello, my little darling! How are you?”

“Mama’s being mean.”

“I’m simply teaching you how to sew a button!” You laughed, standing. “What is it, Siobhan?”

Her smile dropped, and she set her little sister on the ground. “Could you go upstairs and help the ladies with the dresses for the other little girls? I need to speak with mother.”

You knew that if you were to have made the same request, Yanette would throw a tantrum. Yet, because it was her older sister who she aspired to be, she gave no complaint, running up the stairs and leaving the two of you alone.

“What ails you, child?” You questioned yet began to clean up your workspace.

“I don’t know what I want to do with me life.” She sighed, sitting at your desk.

“You are not alone in that.” you tried to comfort, placing rolls of fabric back onto their respected shelves. “I have spoken to numbers of mothers and daughters who both worry about that. Do you remember Lumila? You used to walk to the beach together during holidays and-.”

“-I was thinking of leaving.”

You finally looked at her, and though she stood tall, the moment her eyes met yours, she shrunk.

“Leaving?” You repeated. “Leaving Sunspear?”

“Dorne…” She corrected.

Setting the rest of the fabric down, you placed your hands on your hips, thinking. You had often heard of the fear and grief parents would go through in letting their children go, but never knew you would feel it so immediately.

Wasn’t she just a babe in your arms a day ago? Not even able to open her eyes and gaze upon just how much you loved her?

“Where would you go?” You questioned.

She picked at her nails, and you took her hands into yours, halting her bad habit. “Aunt Valda said I could travel to Essos with her and the cousins…and we would be in King’s Landing too.”

Valda was nearing five and forty, yet she still traveled the same path you both took in your escape from King’s Landing. She had become the captain of the ship after her brother, and had somehow found a husband, birthing a few children of her own.

Of course you were still the closest of friends with her, after all those years.

“When did she tell you that?” You questioned.

“Two moons ago when she last visited.” She explained. “She’ll be here in another one, and who knows if her offer still stands-.”

“-Is it what your heart desires?”

Siobhan titled her head. “What?”

You repeated. “If it is how you want to live your life, who am I to stop you?”

“But I don’t know!” She exploded into tears, and you immediately embraced her. She sobbed. “I don’t want to leave you, and-and father and everyone, but-but-but-!”

Shushing her, you pulled away only to reach for a handkerchief on your desk. You handed it to her and she blew into it until all the snot left her sinuses. She pocketed it, and wiped her eyes.

“Why else are you in such turmoil?” You questioned, knowing it wasn’t simply the question of if she should stay or go.

Siobhan took a shuttering breath, saying softly. “I’ve heard rumors of a boy at Harrenhal…one who shares my hair.”

It wasn’t news to you, although hearing it always brought another thorn into your heart. It was common knowledge that, not long after your departure from King’s Landing, Prince Aemond Targaryen retook the castle Harrenhal from Daemon, as well as the castle’s nurse, Alys Rivers.

As years had passed, it was apparent that there was a possibility in her birthing Aemond’s child after his death. It was only luck that you had heard that rumored uttered years after Siobhan’s birth. If the word had spread quickly…the heartbreak and shock surely would have overtaken you.

He had taken Harrenhal only a few weeks after you left Aemond.

“And you wish to find him…” You finished for her.

She sat down on the steps, and you sat beside her. “It may be pointless, and I may not find him…but I wish to know. I love my home with all my heart, but it also longs to live and breathe in places I have only seen in books and heard from travelers.”

You sighed. “I cannot promise you that people will be as accepting as those in Dorne.”

“And I know that.” She ran a hand through her curls. “Papa has trained me well enough to defend myself, you know this. I will travel with Aunt Valda and her children, so I will never be alone.”

“Then you have your answer.”

“I don’t.” She shook her head. “I do genuinely love working with you. I love creating the most beautiful gowns, I love going to the beach every day, I love my friends, I love Leandro, and Yeray, and Yannette, and you and papa.”

You giggled, taking her face into your hands. “And we will all still be here when you come back! Shivi, you’re so full of life. You can decide one day you’re tired of me yelling at you in the store and decide to pick up your things and go on an adventure of your own. You can decide too as you’re traveling all of Westeros, whether it’s a moon, or a year, when you want to come home.”

She looked at you as if you were somehow the only person in the world who understood her completely. Then, with a nod, she said.

“Okay.”

Smiling, you kissed her forehead and embraced her once more. It was when she pulled away did Siobhan ask.

“Mama…can I ask about Aemond?”

She never referred to him as her father. It was always easier to speak of him as if he were just the historical figure everyone viewed him as. Yet, it was also strange to do that, knowing that he was a part of her creation.

It was strange for you too.

“Well,” you folded your hands in your lap. “what would you like to know that you already don’t?”

In her defense, you did not tell her that much prior. It wasn’t as if you had much to say in the first place; in hindsight, you only knew him for a month at the most, yet that doesn’t mean your time with him didn’t matter.

Siobhan began. “I know you said he was mean at times, and you thought he would hurt you…but did he love you?”

“…Yes. I like to remember that he did, and it being real.” You answered with a far off look in your eyes. “If I second guess that it was for himself and not for me, then it would tear me apart.”

“And you loved him?”

“I…I think I did. He was the first person to make me feel good, and we had moments where we would just talk, and I’d selfishly wish everyone else in the world turned to dust just so I could have him to myself.”

“Do you think he felt the same?”

You shook your head. “Not in the way I did.”

She drew her eyes away from you, taking it all in. You reached out, holding the back of her head so she would look at you.

“I do not regret any of the time I have spent with him.” You solidified. “It led me to a safer place, and to having you.”

“He wasn’t a good person.” She whispered.

“No.” You shook your head. “He was mistreated as a child, and even when he was older, but you’re right, he wasn’t a good man.”

“Still, I…I wish I could’ve met him. Is that bad?”

“No.” Was your immediate response.

She smiled. “I mean, besides the obvious, it’s for one reason.”

“And what is that?” You chuckled.

“I’m really a princess.” She said with false pride. “And if Aemond was meant to be king, do you think he would’ve let me ascend to the throne?”

You sighed, both out of playful and genuine surprise. “Shivi, if you keep looking into ‘In another world’s-.”

“-Then what world would it be for it to have been true?”

“…In another world where his mother and father were different.”

She looked at you in question. “As in…not the king and queen?”

“No just,” You shook your head. “different choices. Even so, perhaps many things would’ve been changed for your father to be content in being the youngest.”

You don’t know if it was ever possible for Aemond to have not been blinded by a lust for power. You liked to think so, but the more you dwelled on it…the more you began to believe there was no universe it which it was possible.

“I understand.” She said softly. “I just wished to know.”

You combed her hair through your fingers. “And there is no harm in curiosity. So…do you know if you want to leave or not?”

Siobhan sighed, laying her head in your lap. “I don’t. At least I have another moon before Aunt Valda comes to visit.”

“You will.” You comforted. “I have faith you’ll know what to do.”

She hummed, and the two of you stayed in silence together for perhaps another minute before your eldest daughter rose to her feet.

“I promised my friends I’d visit them in the market this afternoon. I’ll see you at supper?”

You nodded. “I’ll make your favorite tonight.”

“I love you!” she kissed your cheek before waving goodbye and rushing out the door. There you were, alone again with your own mind.

It drifted back to when you had heard the news of Aemond’s death. It had been nearly a year since you lived in Sunspear, holding Siobhan was she was just a moon old. When the Dance of the Dragons ended, there wasn’t much of a celebration or mourning, for Dorne had decided not to participate at the start of it all.

So, to hear the news that the Prince Regent Aemond had died spoken so suddenly…you felt your body grow cold. There was a shame in admitting that some of you still loved him.

How couldn’t you though? You held the proof of it in your arms as you cried. You dreamt of him that night, and it was strange. He didn’t do anything but stare at you.

Night after night, you would see him. Sometimes he would talk to you, other times, touch you; again, most of all, he would just look at you.

Apart of you felt like you only slept just to see him.

Yet now, as you sit in your dress shop, and hear your youngest daughter (the proof of Evrin’s unconditional and unselfish devotion to you) rush down the stairs in excitement…

If you were given the choice to go back to the night you first met Aemond Targaryen at the well, you would not change a single thing.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #game of thrones #house of the dragon #hotd season 2 #hotd imagine

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delopsia · 1 year ago

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love all the older rhett this older bob that but do you know what i really really reallyyyy want? older rhett and older bob at the same time

Every gear in my head just came to a screeching halt, Jesus christ.

Oh, to be the controversially younger s/o of Admiral Robert Floyd and Pro Bullrider Rhett Abbott 😔✌ could you IMAGINE?

The whispers that follow as you mosey into the Hard Deck in some cute little outfit that breaks every Navy regulation imaginable, intentionally too short to get under Bobby's skin. Nobody's got the slightest clue who you are, where you came from, or who your heart might belong to, but oh, they're trying to get your attention. For a moment, the bar is loud.

But then you're walking right up to Admiral Floyd and planting yourself in his big, warm lap, and the room deflates. Scandalized whispers and wide eyes eating up the way your fingers comb through the whisps of gray in his hair. Bob knows what they're all thinking, and yet all he cares about is showing you off. This pretty thing snuggled up in his lap, playing with his hair while his big hand rubs up and down your thigh.

Oh, but that's not the end of it because there's an arena a few miles away hosting the PBR that night, and everyone is going. It's the one new, fun event of the year, and it's got the attention of the whole town. Eyes are already on you after your stunt at the bar. Even as you settle down in the bleachers, you can feel those nameless pilots paying attention to your every move.

Then Rhett fucking Abbott, rough and tumble cowboy who's been making headlines for his looks all season, comes bursting out of the chute. Rides some beast of a bull to his eight seconds, disappears for a few rides, then reappears up in the stands. Him and his salt and pepper scruff, kissing up on you and Bobby, big hands squeezing your hip and Bob's lithe waist.

Ugh, it's all over a local news outlet the next morning, and both men are so damn well established that nobody can do a damn thing about it. It would take three to pick up Bob's workload, and not one of those bull riders has been able to match Rhett's latest records. And they know it.

But they're so good with you. Protective but not overly so, the power lies in your hands, and they're more than content to fall into the places you need them to. Whether that be shouldering forward to have a word with someone who's been bugging you at the bar or sitting back and watching over you as you handle it yourself.

Sometimes, they struggle to keep up with your terms and references, but they do try their best to make up for the age gap. It makes for an interesting dynamic; their biggest worry is accidentally alienating you, which ends in countless movie nights so that you can understand each other's jokes. Introducing Rhett to modern applications and begging Bob to quit with the highly technical terms. Neither you nor Rhett understand what he's saying, and if he explains, it only gets worse.

Bob spoils you rotten; he's got more money than he knows what to do with, and you get whatever your pretty little heart wants. You haven't paid for a damn thing in years; you've tried, but even if you slip past the detection of one, you're caught in the crosshairs of the other.

On his long days, he'll send you and Rhett off shopping with his card, and you two always get up to something. It's been three months since Rhett sent that video of your pretty hips rolling against Rhett's new boots, biting at his thigh, whispering something that sounded like a plea for Bob to come home early.

Sometimes, he winds up with lewd photos of you riding Rhett in your new lingerie. Then there was that one time you two got an old Polaroid camera, stuffed the photos into a cute box, and sent it to his work to be delivered to him at his desk. That one ended in you and Rhett both limping, but it was so, so worth it. You're already working on your second batch of photos.

Rhett isn't as financially well-off, can't buy you all the bells and whistles, but he kisses you half to death and whispers the prettiest praises in your ears. He's snuggling you when you're both missing Bobby, and he's leaving you sweet messages while he's on a rodeo circuit, mailing small things that remind him of you and Bob. A hand-carved figurine of three running horses, hand-knit blankets from small-town shops.

Drives you two damn near mad with all those photos of his hard cock straining against his jeans, grunts your names over and over and over as he gets himself off to the sight of you and Bobby on his screen.

He loves making you two ride him. Whispering about how, "Want this ol' cowboy to teach ya how to ride, hm?" and making you work for it until your thighs are shivering. Draws you down to fall into his chest as he fucks up into you, too damn strong for his own good.

If you happen to be gone, then your phone never shuts up. They're a mess. One minute, you're rolling your eyes at a POV video of Rhett chasing Bob around the backyard for stealing his popsicle. The next, you're praying nobody overhears hears the secondary video of Rhett railing Bobby into the mattress, muttering about how "this coulda been you, but you're so far away, babydoll."

Its when you're together all at once, that you fully wear each other out. You would think they'd tire easily, but they could go for hours if they want to.

Sometimes they'll take turns with you, pumping you full of their cum and stepping back to let the other play with you for a while. At some point you have to tap out, batting their fingers away when they try to push it back into your spent pussy. It always ends in a need to change the sheets, because they make such a damn mess.

They're equally willing to let you take full control. Sitting on their knees at the foot of the bed, letting you haul them around by their hair and content to follow your every order. The sight of such powerful men at their most vulnerable is something else entirely.

But the best times are when you wake up snuggled between their big, warm bodies. Two pairs of blue eyes smiling fondly at the sight of you yawning, nuzzling into Rhett's broad chest, pulling Bob's arm tighter around you, asking for a few more minutes.

They both love you to death and will show you off as much as you'll allow of them. If you want to perch yourself on their arms for a big-title navy event or a PBR after-party, then that's what you'll get to do. But if you'd prefer to stay home, then they'll move heaven and earth to make sure they can share that with you, too. Regardless of the differences and the gaps between your ages, you'll be wrapped up in these two old men for a long, long time.

#im gonna walk into a church and burst into flames #rhett abbott #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader x rhett abbott #tw age gap

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years ago

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"Spring Break '86" {Eddie Munson/Reader}

Part 2 is here!

Yeah, I did it. I started a series about Eddie Munson.

This one should go really well because I actually have an outline/timeline to go by. [Stranger Things Season 4, Part 1. Maybe going into Part 2?]

Basically, you are Dustin Henderson's older sister, with a secret "history" with Eddie Munson. And that history is slowly being uncovered when you come home from college for spring break, and find that Eddie is best buds with your little brother.

You get caught into the events of S4, and the truth becomes more and more clear.

I have a full, thought-out plot and story with this, regardless of how S4 ends. Meaning if Eddie dies. But Eddie will NOT DIE. NO. HE WON'T. I LOVE HIM AND WON'T LET IT HAPPEN.

I have a tag list, but it's for Rafael Barba fans so I will not include them here. If you would like to be added to a tag list for this story, please let me know!

I hope you guys like it!

===================

“Ughh where are you, you little worm…”

You grumbled under your breath as you stomped out of the still cheering gymnasium of Hawkins Highschool. You had just driven back home to Hawkins Indiana from Chicago, and you weren’t in the best mood.

It was the Spring Break of your freshman year at college, and rather than head to the coast with your new college gal pals, you had stupidly opted to come back home for the week instead. Truth be told you weren’t exactly the “beach babe” type, and you would never admit it but you missed your mom, Mews, and your little brother Dustin.

However, at this exact moment you were in fact not missing him in the least. Here you had driven all night to surprise him at his best friend’s basketball game, and he wasn’t there. How could he not be there? This was the very first time in any history you knew that Hawkins had made it to a tournament, and you knew for a fact that one of Dustin’s best friends Lucas Sinclair was on the team. How could Dustin and his little “party” not be there cheering him on?

Before you reached your car in the parking lot, you heard cheering come from inside the school. Which was odd, because you were pretty sure anybody who was supposed to be there was in the gymnasium. Then a thought occurred to you:

Your brother wasn’t exactly the “normal” high schooler, like his friend Lucas. No star athlete, not really Mr. Popular. He liked really weird things like sci-fi and nerd stuff, Star Wars, shit like that. But the one thing he loved above it all was his stupid Dungeons and Dragons group he had, which included his only friends. Obviously.

If you were being absolutely honest with yourself, the whole “Satanic Panic” about D&D had started running rampant through your school newspapers, and you’d never admit it but it actually started to freak you out. As far as you knew, those games were harmless. Stupid, but harmless.

But whether or not it was true, you knew your small town was easily poisoned. Some whiff of any kind of controversy, a threat, a rumor, could roll into that town and the people would be burning people at the stake by the end of the day. You couldn’t let them try to “save” your brother from the “devil’s game’.

All of these thoughts ran through your head long enough to stall you from walking into the school before a group of teens came bursting out in cheers and joyous chants. Among them was your little brother, who stopped dead when he saw you standing there in the parking lot.

“....Y/N? What are you doing here?” Dustin asked warily, totally confused on why you would be in his High School parking lot at 10 o'clock at night.

“Jesus Dusty,” You let out a soft laugh of disbelief. “I drove all the way down here to surprise you and all–”

You were just starting to chastise your brother when the last person you ever expected to see came strolling out of the dark school halls.

Eddie Munson.

Your nose scrunched as you watched him saunter over to your brother giving him and the others high fives. He quickly stopped and changed his demeanor once he saw you standing behind the group.

“Henderson, you didn’t tell me your mom was such a babe,” Eddie eyed you up and down devilishly.

“Shut up,” You narrowed your eyes on the long-haired man.

“Dude that’s my sister, not my–” Dustin started to explain to Eddie who you were.

“He knows who I am, Dust,” you cut him off, still glaring at Eddie.

“What?” Dustin blinked in confusion. “Why? How is that–”

“Didn’t expect to see you hare, princess,” Eddie smirked back at your daggered eyes, while Dustin and his friends looked between the two of you in shock.

“Come to cheer on your good ol’ alma mater, cheer captain?” he teased.

“You sure are cocky for a grown man hanging out with children at night, Munson,” You didn’t bat an eye at his insult as you retorted with your own.

“Damn,” you heard some girl you’d never seen before laugh under her breath at your line.

“Hey, Eddie’s my friend Y/N,” Dustin defended him. “We’re in school together,”

“Excuse me?” You laughed harder as you stared at Eddie with amusement. “Eddie, you still haven’t graduated?”

“Shut up,” Eddie said in a low, guttural voice.

“What are you, collecting a punch card?” you went on taunting him.

“Shut, your mouth,” you could see Eddie clenching his fists as you continued to laugh.

“One more senior year and they give you a plaque for ‘biggest moron ever’?” you lost yourself in giggles at the last statement, imagining it.

“SHUT UP!!!!!!” Eddie bellowed in the parking lot, making everyone jump back a foot and a half. None of the kids had ever seen Eddie mad before. Annoyed, sure. Aggravated by the “sheeples” at school, all the time. But this was different. This was rage.

“What the fuck, Y/N?!” Dustin yelled at you angrily, as you looked back at him with an innocent confusion.

“Henderson I have never hit a girl in my life, and I really would like to keep it that way,” Eddie grunted through gritted teeth.

“Yeah don’t worry, I’ll hit her for you,” Dustin said without thinking.

“Dustin!” you gasped.

“No, you won’t either!” Eddie suddenly raised his voice at the boy, making both of you look back at him in stunned confusion.

“What?” Dustin looked between the two of you suspiciously. “...What is happening here?”

“Dustin, get your friends in the car. I’ll take them home,” you quickly changed the subject.

“But Eddie was–” Dustin protested.

“Nah man, forget it,” Eddie waved him off. “I’ve got a date anyway,”

“Sure you do,” you laughed under your breath as you helped the girl you’d never seen before into the backseat of your Mustang.

Once the kids were squished into your car, you closed the door enough so they couldn’t hear you and Eddie’s conversation.

“Seriously Eddie,” You said in a low but concerned tone.

“Seriously Y/N, you need to leave. Before I do something I regret,”

“You’d never hit me,” You looked at him with the smallest of a sad smile. He looked down at the ground, confirming the statement.

“Okay but seriously, what is this?” you shook off the sentiment crawling out of you.

“What is what?” Eddie asked you in annoyance.

“This,” you gestured between the kids in the car and him. “Why are you hanging out with my little brother? Why are you even still here?!”

“You said it yourself, I’m waiting for my official ‘dumbass’ plaque,” He half laughed sadly, playing with the rings on his fingers while still staring at the pavement.

“Eddie,” your voice softened. “You know I didn’t–”

“No, I actually think you did, Y/N,” Eddie started walking away backwards from your car.

“Eddie come on, I–” you tried to walk after him.

“Just, fuck off and leave me alone, okay?” Eddie yelled back angrily, throwing both of his middle fingers up at you while he faded away into the distance of the parking lot.

You waited several seconds before giving up on him coming back and got into the driver’s seat, starting the car and driving out of the parking lot.

“What the fuck was that, Y/N?” Dustin immediately started berating you again. “Why did you have to be such a bitch to him? How do you even know him?!”

“Not now, Dustin,” You warned him as you drove towards Mike Wheeler’s house.

His friends looked up to the sky, praying to be thrown from the car rather than sit in the car for this awkward sibling fight.

-----------

After dropping off his friends, Dustin started his interrogation on you.

“Alright now you wanna explain to me why you were such a bitch to my friend, Y/N?” he snapped.

“Dusty!” You gasped. “Jesus, language. And you do NOT call women bitches, especially your loving sister,”

“Sorry,” he huffed reluctantly. “It’s just, Eddie–”

“Dustin, Eddie’s a big boy. I’m sure his hurt feelings will–”

“No, don't do that,” Dustin interjected. “Don’t start acting all high and mighty just because you came home from a fancy college, and Eddie–”

“I know Eddie Munson a hell of a lot more than you Dustin, I think I know what he can and cannot handle,”

“How is that possible?!” Dusty threw his hands up at the conspiracy.

“Just— just leave it alone, Dusty, okay? I’m sorry I bitched out your friend,” You sighed, unwilling to get into the ‘history’ of you and Eddie Munson in that exact moment.

“For NO reason,” he added.

“...For no reason,” You rolled your eyes.

“Now tell him that,” He crossed his arms with a smile as you pulled onto your street.

“What, now?” you gave him a look.

“Yes, NOW,” he nodded forcefully.

“He’s on a date,” you protested innocently.

“You and I both know he’s full of shit,” Dustin rolled his eyes. “He’s just gonna go home, and–”

“And get stoned, and feel sorry for himself all night,” you finished his thought.

“Wha—?” Dustin’s eyes widened at the accuracy of your statement. “I mean, I wouldn’t put it that way but, yeah…”

“Alright fine, fine,” you pulled into your driveway as you spoke. “You go inside, and I’ll go talk to Eddie,”

“You’ll APOLOGIZE to Eddie,” he clarified.

“Fine I will apologize to Eddie,” you begrudgingly replied.

“Okay, he lives–” Dustin started.

“I know where he lives, Dustin,” you shook your head.

“Wha– seriously?!” Dustin continued to be thrown by your words.

“WHEN did you have time to get all this intel on Eddie? When have you EVER hung out with him?”

“In case you haven’t noticed Dustin, you’ve been pretty preoccupied by your own friends these last few years,” you reminded him. “I can’t remember the last time we actually had one of our “Dustbusters,”

You saw him sadly smile at the mention of your “sibling dates” you two would have when you were younger. You weren’t terribly older than him so when you were kids you were kind of inseparable. But then puberty hit, and you both gravitated towards other things and people. The truth was you really had no idea what had gone on with him in the last few years.

You knew he had a friend that got abducted, or went missing, or something of the matter. It had really shaken him to his core. And after that, he grew more and more isolated from you and your mom, and closer to his “party”. A “party” that apparently included Eddie Munson of all people.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Dustin rubbed the back of his neck as he thought about what had really gone on in his life in the past three years. Things you would never even dream of. Things he would never dream of telling you. You and your mom worried enough about him.

“Just…go easy on him, please?” he asked you earnestly. “I know you think he’s a moron, but–”

“I know he’s not a moron, Dustin,” you assured him.

“Then what was the–”

“Too long of a story, Dusty. Just go inside, I promise I’ll be nice to Eddie,”

“Alright fine,” he grumbled as he shut the door. The window was still down, so he stuck his head in once more.

“Hey, sis?”

“Yeah, Dusty?” you asked in growing annoyance.

“...Thanks for coming home this week,” He smiled at you. “I missed you,”

“Oh you little—” your annoyance melted away as you jumped out of the driver’s seat and ran over to where he was standing beside the car, throwing your arms around him. This was all you had wanted to do since you left Chicago.

“I missed you too, you doof,” You ruffled his hair and placed an over exaggerated sloppy kiss to his forehead.

“Gross,” Dustin pulled away from you, making a huge display of disgust as he ran back inside and you got back into your car with an amused laugh.

—---------

It took a little longer than you expected to make it to the trailer park. You hadn’t been out there in such a long time, you didn’t remember how to get there as well as you thought. After a few U-Turns and cursing, you finally found the field of glowing trailers.

You drove down a row or two, looking for Eddie’s car. It wasn’t long before you saw it parked in front of a trailer almost off by itself in the park. You turned off your lights and edged slowly towards the trailer, parking on the other side of it where no windows could see you. If you were going to do this, you’d need a minute to prepare.

Okay, apologize. Apologize to Eddie Munson. For what? A hell of a lot more than you promised Dustin, that’s for sure. You were actually kind of surprised he didn’t even have the slightest memory of you two ever hanging out.

Well, Eddie looked really different when the two of you were in junior high. That was for damn sure. The cute little cow-licked boy with the coke bottle glasses was a far cry from the hairy, volatile beast he was now.

You got out of your car, still unsure of what to say. You were going over so many things in your head, lost in your own thoughts and worries, you didn’t even notice the lights flickering through the windows.

“Eddie, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that stuff in front of my brother,” you spoke out loud in your best sincere voice as you were still pacing in front of the front door.

“But you haven’t exactly been the nicest to me since–”

Before you could say another word of your personal monologue, a bright light came shooting out from every window and door of the trailer as it shook violently. It surprised you so much that you fell back in awe, your eyes darting every which way. The light continued to beam through the trailer for several seconds before completely evaporating, leaving a loud THUMP in its wake coming from inside.

Then you heard the screaming.

Before you could register what was going on, a panicked Eddie who was still screaming came bolting out the front door, heading for his car. He practically tripped over your still stunned self-sitting in front of his home.

“Oof!” He tumbled to the ground, momentarily stopping his screams. He turned to see you sitting there, his eyes were wide with fear. His face was paler than your night time face cream. He didn’t know whether to jump up and run or collapse into your arms. He did the latter.

“Y/N, I didn’t do it,” He immediately began to sob as he pulled himself tightly into your arms. “I swear to God, I didn’t do it,”

“W-Wha—did what?” You were still reeling from the light show when Eddie had death gripped himself to your waist. You tried stringing together thoughts as he sobbed harder into your chest.

“I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it to her I swear to God I didn’t,” he whimpered over and over into your chest.

“Wha…Eddie, what are you on?” You furrowed your eyebrows as he quickly dropped his arms.

“What? Nothing!” Eddie suddenly became very defensive. “I am completely sober, that’s why I KNOW I didn’t do anything–”

“Bullshit,” you rolled your eyes as you peeled him off you, standing up and dusting yourself off. “You’re clearly having hallucinations,”

“Babe, I swear I’m not–” He started to protest.

“No,” you stopped him dead in his words. “NOT babe. Not your babe, not anybody’s babe,”

“....Y/N,” He momentarily rolled his eyes. “Look I swear to God, it’s real. But I don’t want you to—”

“Look?” you finished for him in a snarky tone. “Right, because there won’t be anything there, and then I’ll know you’re full of shit, and are just having a really bad K trip,”

“I am NOT tripping on anything, Y/N,” Eddie grabbed your shoulders with both of his hands. “But I— you— I can’t– if you see that girl, you’re gonna think I’m–”

“Eddie, I really can’t see thinking any less of you than I already do, so I think I’m good,” You laughed sarcastically.

“No, but–”

Before he could stop you, you were opening the front door and walking inside the trailer. And you were not prepared in the least for what greeted you.

A girl, not much younger than you, laid on the floor in front of you. Not really laying, sprawled. Her legs and arms were broken, her neck was crooked. Her eyes had been inverted inside her head.

You didn’t scream, surprisingly. You didn’t freak out, or burst into tears. You simply just stared at the girl for what seemed like forever, studying her disfigured corpse.

“...Y-Y-Y/N?” You heard Eddie’s feeble cries from outside the trailer. He sounded so much different than he had just a few hours ago.

You stepped out of the trailer slowly, almost as if in a trance. You looked at Eddie who was now shivering in fear next to his car. He looked so broken, so small. Not the Eddie Munson you were so used to, with his brazen tone and that 100-watt smile that you’d never admit in a million years you missed while looking out a rainy University window in Chicago.

“I didn’t do that to her Y/N, you have to believe me. She–” His blubbering was stifled by your hand over his mouth.

“I believe you, Eddie,” You said in a soft, calming voice.

“Y-You do?” He whimpered from under your hand, causing you to remove it.

“Yes, but we can’t stay here. There’s no way nobody didn’t hear any of that,” you warned him, looking around in every direction.

“But where are we gonna go? What are we gonna do? What am I gonna do? Chrissy, she was just here trying to–” Eddie began to unravel once more, his words falling back into heavy breaths and choked sobs.

“Eddie, get in my car,” you said very strictly.

“Your car? What about my car? I can’t–” He whined.

“Eddie,” you shook him furiously, trying to snap him out of it. “You live here. There’s a logical reason for your car to be here. Besides, if they, and they will, think you did this, they’ll be looking for your car. They won’t be looking for mine. So again, GO GET IN MY CAR, okay?”

“......O-Okay,” Eddie nodded feebishly, wiping sniffling tears into his jacket as he scurried towards your car and got in the passenger's side.

You took one last long moment thinking about Chrissy the pretzel just lying in there, bleeding all over Eddie’s carpet. There was something absolutely insane, and yet weirdly familiar about all of this.

You finally shook the feeling off of your shoulders and followed Eddie’s trail back to your car, getting in the driver’s seat and slamming the door shut. You looked over at Eddie who was continuing to shake and sob, clearly traumatized from the events of the last few minutes.

You’d never seen him like this, ever. Not at any point in however long you had known him. And you hated every second of it.

“Eddie,” you placed a hand on the back of his quivering mane, stroking it gently. You just wanted him to stop crying, for even a minute.

“Just drive,” Eddie pleaded, jerking away from your hand. He didn’t feel worthy of being comforted right now, especially not by you.

“Okay,” you shrugged unnervingly, starting the car and peeling out of the trailer park into the night.

This was certainly not how you wanted your Spring Break to start.

Support me on Ko-Fi if you like what you read! https://ko-fi.com/tinyboxtink

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things 4 #stranger things 4 spoilers #stranger things

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xaharadesert · 3 years ago

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Shapeshifting MC - Headcanon

Arcana Characters (Main 6) x MC

A/N: this one is for @beansandmorebeans! I’m supposed to wake up in a few hours to go help out my mom at work, but I’ve decided you’ve all been deprived of content for too long :) Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes :) requests are open!

❤️Julian❤️

The first time he sees you shapeshift he shrieks

Does not understand how you just did that

He has a lot of trouble accepting even minor forms of magic, so you changing literally everything about your anatomy terrifies him at first

Of course that terror is overtaken by his curiosity

He wants to know how much of your internal structures shift to match your outer structure

Like an octopus has multiple hearts, so if you shift into one, does that mean you also have multiple hearts? Or do you maintain your human physiology?

He’s probably not getting any answers, because there’s no real way to find out without some very invasive experiments that you most definitely would not be okay with

Overall he just kind of accepts that it’s something you can do, but if anyone else can do it then he’ll still be incredibly skeptical of them (this is solely a you thing, in his mind, if that makes sense)

He loves when you shift into other people to help him rehearse scenes for whatever show he’s going to be in

And he adores the fact that you can get away with so much without being caught

He’ll always be absolutely terrified when you turn into a typically aggressive animal, and will never not scream in the highest pitch you’ve ever heard

So it’s best not to lounge around the house as a lion

🧡Portia🧡

She’s absolutely delighted to find out that you can shapeshift, but disappointed to learn that it’s not something she can learn to do as well

With that being said, she likes to request different animals to see you shift into them

She’s always super excited to see a new animal; the thrill never wears off

Whenever you turn into a cat, she always squeals in delight and tries to see if you can Pepi can communicate

She’s super supportive of you being whatever or whoever makes you most comfortable

So whenever she comes home to see a strange person or animal lounging around the house, she doesn’t even look twice

With your assistance, she’s pulling a long running prank on Julian— who doesn’t know your a shapeshifter— by asking you to look like a different person every time she meets up with him

She introduces you as her partner every time, and pretends that you’ve always looked that way to confuse him

The poor man has stayed up for nights on end trying to figure out what’s going on

Portia thinks it’s the funniest thing ever (and it is)

💛Lucio💛

Immediately planning how he can use your powers to his advantage

The pranks he could pull, the political figures he could gaslight, the controversies he could start… so many options

He makes sure to introduce you to plenty of powerful authorities of foreign nations so you can impersonate them whenever you please

Is that morally correct? No. But he thinks it’s funny

Technically you could also use your powers for good, but you’ll need to be the one to decide to do that, because Lucio thinks the path of evil would be much more entertaining

If you wanna give him a taste of his own medicine, feel free to shapeshift into him and make a fool of yourself in public

Or shift into one of his beloved animals, and when he comes to pet you, shift into something really big and scary

When the two of you aren’t causing problems, he likes to ask you to shift into whatever beautiful creature comes to mind

This can be anything from a peacock to a lion depending on the day

If you’re up for it, he’d love to brag about your powers to anyone who will listen

You’re the absolute coolest, and he wants everyone to know it

💚Muriel💚

He’s permanently worried that you’ll shift into something really small and he’ll accidentally squish you

Like he won’t even kill mosquitos anymore, even if you’re literally standing beside him

He’s just a tad paranoid, the poor dear

He prefers when you shift into larger animals

Especially ones he doesn’t have to worry about harming, like bears

Honestly prefers to cuddle you when you’re in the form of a giant cuddly animal

Inanna is also a huge fan of this

It freaks Muriel out a bit when you shift into other people

It stresses him out, so he asks that you don’t change your human form too often

If you’d like to shift into a smaller animal, he’d like to carry you around on his shoulder so he knows where you are

Also asks if you can shift into a chicken to tell him what his chickens are gossiping about

💙Asra💙

Thinks your abilities are absolutely amazing, and is constantly encouraging them

If you’re not around, he talks to every animal as if it were you

He does this to some people too, but only if they look like a form you’ve shifted into before— it can be pretty awkward

One time you went on a trip alone that lasted a few days longer than expected

When you came home, you found Asra cuddled up with a very friendly raccoon that he had accidentally mistaken for you

He doesn’t like to talk about that incident, but it’s one of your favourite memories

Since he’s so supportive, shifting forms dozens of times throughout the day feels perfectly natural for you (assuming there’s no energy/magic strain)

No matter what form you’re in, Asra absolutely loves to cuddle with you

Big animals are perfect for curling up against, smaller ones can be cradled close to his chest, and human forms are just right for the good old fashioned types of cuddles

Faust’s favourites are the big animals with lots of fur or hair because you make a perfect bed for her

💜Nadia💜

She’s very curious about the nature of shapeshifting

She wants to know everything about it, such as its limits, combinations, and fundamental anatomy changes

But mostly she just enjoys your incredible magic

She makes sure you have plenty of clothes that are loose, adjustable, or easy to remove so that you don’t accidentally destroy them when you shapeshift

She also makes sure your room is very accessible regardless of your physical form

Whenever she’s alone and an animal approaches her, she makes polite conversation with it, just in case it’s actually you

She asks that you not impersonate anyone she personally knows, as it makes her a bit uncomfortable

The only exception is if you want to impersonate an ignorant jerk who annoyed her to make fun of them in private

Perhaps her favourite form that you can take is that of a bird

Watching you fly high in the sky, completely free of the world below you is very inspiring to her

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freshabogados · 3 years ago

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Wicked Fates | Throw My Bones

Summary: You didn't expect that night to change your life. But fates had other plans. Matt Murdock aka The Devil of Hell's Kitchen shared his secret with you and now you had to guard it with your life.

Tags: angst, pure pain, daredevil violence, reader gets hurt, guilt, kind of long.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x gn!reader; Daredevil x gn!reader

You can read the first chapter here.

You woke up and got ready for work with practised regularity. You took a warm shower, followed your morning skin care routine perfectly, ate your breakfast, and left to join the hasty crowd. It was a regular Friday, at least that’s what you thought when the day began. You weren’t aware of the shadow tailing you to work. You plugged your earphones in and put on Novo Amor, you’d never deny the feelings his music gave you. You were careful to keep your gaze to the ground. You weren’t ready to spot a particular blind man walking among the crowd. You didn’t trust yourself enough to not blurt out something controversial. The case was brand new and the jury was still out, it would be a mistake to jump to conclusions, especially when the landing could leave severe damage. You cleared your thoughts and focused on the soft music playing in your ears as you made your way to work. You convinced yourself that your bored mind was just playing games on you.

Matt didn’t catch a minute of sleep last night. His mind came up with scenarios that always ended up with his friends and Maggie getting hurt. He tossed and turned hoping to find a cosy spot on his bed, as if that would make him sleep. He sent a text to Foggy saying he’d be late for work tomorrow but not to worry about him. He had to reassure his best friend that he wasn’t actually hurt but just sleep deprived, which wasn’t entirely false. He lay awake on his bed trying to remember any piece of remnant sensory information he picked up from your previous encounters. He remembers your faint scent. A mixture of something sweet and minty but not something he would bet on. He remembers the sound of your shoes. They didn’t click as you rushed past him and kept walking, so not heels, they were more like soft thuds. He had focused on the material rubbing against the asphalt- rubber soles. You wore shoes. He could tell you wore them often by the way they didn’t squeak against the ground as you walked. He goes back to the night he first sensed you. You weren’t too far from him and from the tiny puffs of air leaving your mouth he had a rough idea of how tall you were. Satisfied with the information he had gathered he finally closes his eyes. It was going to be a long day tomorrow.

Matt chose to dress as inconspicuously as he could. He wore his green parka above his suit and folded up his cane and put it inside the jacket pocket, and wore a different pair of sunglasses. He didn’t want to get caught and he was very good at that. Sneaky like a cat. He left his apartment early, not wanting to miss the first crowd of the day. He buried himself behind a bagel cart, vigilant with his senses. He had a rough idea of what you sounded like but he was still uncertain. He scans the passersby discreetly. He remembers how your heartbeat picked up rapidly when you recognised him. He had a fair idea of how young you were. He stood there for what felt like an hour when suddenly he caught a hint of that sweet-minty smell. He focused on the origin of the scent and concentrated on the owner’s heartbeat. Faint and composed. Just in time, the pedestrian lights turned green and he heard the soft thuds of worn-in shoes making their way towards him. He took a step back and heard the footsteps pass by him. He was sure of his target and so he proceeded to cautiously track your path.

You made it to your work and greeted the security guard on your way in. Your schedule for the day was pretty tight, leaving no time to overthink something you should not be thinking about.

Matt halted a few feet away from the office building. He listened to you make your way inside the building, greeting the security guard. He listened closely to your voice, he had to grab hold of any information he had on you. Your voice was cheery as you spoke. He caught your first name as the guard greeted you back.

Well, that could be useful, somehow.

He stayed there for a few more minutes, unsure of what to do before he left for work, deciding to deal with you tonight.

Your best friend, Leslee hadn’t spoken to you properly in over a week so you both decided to meet up for lunch. You headed to the deli down the street and found your friend already waiting with your order.

“You know me so well, it’s beginning to look creepy.” you said as you sat down next to her, taking your lunch from her hands.

“You signed up for creepiness when you became my friend” she replied chirpily.

Leslee has been your friend for as long as you remember but your friendship grew stronger when she showed up at your apartment, drunk out of her wits, and passed out on your couch. It was a weird beginning for a beautiful relationship.

You both caught up on everything happening in your lives at the moment. You told her about how you stumbled across The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen last night. You wanted to tell her about your doubts on the identity of the masked man but chose not to. After all, she was a chronic worrier. And she was already shooting questions at you about him. You answered her questions careful not to reveal your crazy theories.

“Oh! I almost forgot. Here, my niece made this for you. Doesn’t have true diamonds but has pure love.” She handed you a colourful bracelet embellished with rhinestones and chain-link.

“I love it! Oh, please tell her I will wear it at all times. It’s too cute. And it goes well with all my clothes.” your face lit up as you wore it around your left wrist. You mentioned once, just once, that you liked bracelets to Leslee’s niece and she had remembered it.

You bid your goodbyes as lunchtime was nearly over and walked back to work. Your fingers ran over the rhinestones of the bracelet and you smiled to yourself feeling the thoughtful gift.

You were engulfed in your work and only noticed that the day was over when your colleagues started to leave. You packed your things and left for your apartment, already looking forward to slumping into your bed and sleeping the weekend off.

Matt spent his day distracted by the thoughts of you. He was equipped with the sound of your steady heartbeat and the smell of your perfume and scent. As soon as the sunset he put on his black mask and tracked you down like a dog. Matt was perched on your apartment building’s roof, listening to any sounds that might put him in danger.

You were perched on your couch with your laptop on your lap watching something. Matt scanned the building for a way into your house. He waited for the perfect opportunity to sneak in through your window and catch you off-guard. As if you read his mind, you stood up and walked to the bathroom. Matt climbed down the fire escape and tried to break in through your window only to find it unlocked. He slid in silently and took cover behind the kitchen counter.

You walked out of the bathroom and headed to the kitchen to get a glass of water. You felt the hot breeze of New York hit your skin.

I did not leave the window open.

You walked towards your window, curiously, and looked around. Nobody could’ve gotten in anyway, the fire escape was rusty and held by the might of duct tapes. You shook your head and closed the window, and huffed a sigh of relief. You turned around, only to be pushed back into the window sill.

Before you could yelp or cry for help a strong hand reached out and covered your mouth. Another hand pushed you further back into the window, pressing its forearm into your chest. You tried to push back but the person was stronger. Your eyes darted around you to find something to defend yourself with, failing to find anything, it settled on the figure in front of you. A black mask covering the top of his face, glove clad hands holding you in place muffling your surprised whimpers.

What is The Devil doing in my apartment?

Your breath became shallow, body giving up the fight it has no chance of winning, your eyes welled up with tears, as his grip tightened on you. You slump back on the window exhausted from your day, and now this.

Matt was overcome with anger and looked at you as nothing more than a danger, forgetting that you, too, were human, just like him. His demeanour was threatening as if you were a criminal he’s been hunting. Matt could taste the salt in the air as your tears started rolling down your cheeks, seeping through his nylon gloves. His grip softened on you, guilt washing over him.

“I’m going to remove my hand from your mouth. Don’t you dare make a noise because if you do, I won’t hesitate to hurt you.” He leaned back as he whispered, afraid that his words would hurt you though they were actually a threat.

Fully aware that he would stay true to his words you let out a pained hiss as he removed his hand from your mouth. His other hand still pressed you back to the window. The edge of the sill was beginning to hurt your back.

“Why are you here? What do you want?” you spoke, your voice barely audible.

Matt let out a sarcastic chuckle.

“Sweetheart, you know why I am here. Tell me what you know about me.”

You gulped in anticipation, shaky breaths escaping your nostrils. What if your over thinking brain was right?

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” you lied. Well, it wasn’t fully true. You were unsure. It doesn’t count as lying if you’re unsure, right?

“Oh, you know what I mean. Don’t lie to me. I will know if you do.” Matt’s voice was sharp with anger, slightly ragged with fear.

“I promise, I don’t know anything. I thought I saw something but I was only overthinking, okay! Please let me go. I swear I don’t know anything.” You pleaded as if you were on trial for a crime you didn’t commit but you didn’t lie.

Matt felt pangs of guilt coursing through him. Your voice was laced with pain. You were in pain under his pressing forearm and the window sill cutting into your skin.

Matt wasn’t convinced by your answer. He wanted to know the extent of your knowledge on his double life.

“No. I’m not sold. You know more than what you’re letting on. I won’t ask again. What do you know?” he placed more stress on his question.

You gave up. You were exhausted.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll tell you everything.” Matt’s arm loosened around your chest and you took a deep breath before you continued.

“I…I saw someone on my way to work yesterday. A blind man, actually. He had a gash on his jaw, just like yours. I thought he was you. But then…it couldn’t have been, right? I thought about it briefly but I know I was just overthinking it. I was just overwhelmed, okay? I saw you the night before and my mind was in a frenzy. I promise, that’s all I know. Hell, I don’t even remember his face properly. I only saw him briefly…just as I saw you, briefly.” you rambled as your breath came out in short puffs.

Matt didn’t budge. His head, close to yours, tilted slightly. He stood there for a moment, thinking. Listening. Though he wasn’t exactly sure of your answer, he slowly pushed himself off of you, not letting go of the arm caging you to the window.

Miscalculation got the best of you as you tried to push him back. Matt was quick to catch your wrists and pinned them above your head. An open chain bracket in your bracelet caught a few threads in Matt’s mask and pulled it along with your hands, fully revealing his face to you.

Your eyes went wide with fear and surprise, you inhaled sharply, and struggled to swallow. Matt was startled. His sightless eyes were searching around unsure of what to do next. His grip tightened on your wrists and you yelped in pain.

He stumbled back on his steps and let go of your hands, lips parted trying to catch his breath. You brought your hands down and massaged your wrists. Another string of tears flowed down your face. You cursed yourself mentally for doing what you did.

You slowly looked up at The Masked Man, sans his mask. His face was puzzled with fear, anger, and uncertainty.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I am sorry. I’m sorry.” You repeated your words like a broken tape recorder as you sank to your knees, clutching onto the mask clinging to your bracelet.

Matt stood motionless, hearing your broken words covered in your weeps. It was an accident, he was aware of it, too. He had already caused so much pain to you.

He took a few steps to where you were crouched on the floor. You flinched as he neared you, scared that this was going to be your last night alive. He knelt before you and held your hands gently.

“Hey. Hey, look at me. It was an accident. Okay? Please don’t cry. I won’t hurt you.” His voice was soothing. An extreme contrast to what he sounded like minutes ago.

You looked at his kneeling figure in front of you. You fixed your gaze to your hands, hesitant to see his face.

“I’m sorry.” you repeated a little louder hoping it would reach him this time.

Matt shook his head. “Don’t be. Things…escalated. You’ve seen my face and it can’t be undone now.”

His gaze fell right behind your shoulders. You looked back, unconsciously, to see if there was something. Finding nothing, you turned your head towards his face, finally taking in his features. You looked at his face, his soothing voice making his dangerous demeanour less scary. The yellow glow of your apartment highlighted the brown undertone in his dark hair. His soft features were a mismatch to his aggressive behaviour.

It's the same blind guy.

“It was you. You were him. You are the blind guy?” You made a statement but it came out sounding like a question.

Matt didn’t say anything, he just nodded in response.

You breathed deeply and exhaled softly before you asked him another question.

“How? All of this- how? Wha- are you really blind?”

Matt tilted his head again. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. He opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say. He can’t trust a stranger but his face was already out to you. Matt’s thoughts kept going back to his friends. You’ve become a liability now. His jaw pulsed as his thoughts ran wild in his head.

Matt stood up, dropping your hands into your lap while removing the mask from your bracelet. He put his mask on and dropped his head to where you sat.

“It’s none of your business. I am none of your business, you understand? Not a word about me leaves your mouth. Because if you do, I will know. And I won’t hesitate to make sure you stay silent. Forever.”

You felt unsettled by his change in tone and posture.

“Do you understand?” he pressed for an answer.

“Yes. Yes. Yeah, I do.” You nodded furiously as you repeated the word like a prayer.

Matt walked past you to your window and slid outside on the fire escape. You stood up from your place on the floor, hesitantly, and moved to close the window behind him.

Matt stood on the steel platform and looked down at you, mouth twitching to say something. He recalled your name and called it out. You looked at him shocked that he knows who you are.

“Apply some ice on your wrists.” He replied taking accountability for hurting you. He jumped up the staircase and you watched his figure melt into the dark of the night before you could ask him more questions. Especially how he knew your name.

You shut the window and locked it, fear lingering in the back of your mind. You slid down on the floor and held your knees close to your chest, back resting on the wall. Your quiet sobs broke the veil of silence in your apartment.

Matt sat on the roof of your building, wondering if you would call the cops on him. A simple sketch of his face was enough for them to apprehend him. Instead, all he heard was your sniffled cry echoing through the silent night. He listened to your muffled cries and shallow breath until you passed out on the floor. Shame rained on him like sharp needles. No number of prayers would forgive him for the way he treated you today.

His pent-up guilt and shame needed a release and just in time heard a cry for help. Matt Murdock buried himself behind the mask of Daredevil and sped towards the source of cry and even then, he couldn’t get the sound of your scared whimpers out of his head.

You woke up in sweat and found yourself curled up on the floor. You looked at the clock on your wall, you had been asleep for more than two hours. Your head hurt from all the crying, throat dry and thirsty for water, and your wrists ached for some ice. You walked to your kitchen and filled a glass of water and drank it before taking some frozen peas and placing them on your wrists. You looked at the spot where you had been held a few hours ago, your body shook with fear. You made sure you locked your door and windows before you headed to your bed. You applied some eucalyptus oil on your temple to relieve the headache and inhaled some of it to clear up your nose. You tucked yourself into your bed and your heavy eyelids closed by themselves as you sank to sleep, you had the weekend to worry about The Masked Man, now you needed your sleep.

Thank you for reading my work <3

Tag List: @matt-erialgirl @shedaresthedevil @star-spangled-man @mindidjarin @e-dubbc11 @sobachka-korol @1800-fight-me @alrighty-matty @mattmurdockspainkink @elgrandeavocados @minxsblog @mattmurdocksdumpy @dropsofprecipitation @lovelywebber @phoebe-danvers @softlikesilkchiffon @ninacotte

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fluff #daredevil fic #daredevil angst #matt murdock angst #the devil of hell's kitchen #wicked fates #kat writes 💫#enemies to friends to lovers

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pokeexehasstoppedworking · 2 years ago

Text

Important Plz Read

If this is your first time to this page I welcome you. Please read the rules below before asking anything. Masterlist of works will be underneath.

RULES

-I will not accept nsfw/personal asks. All asks like that will be deleted and blocked.

-I’ll post what I like when I feel like it, please be patient if waiting for content. Sometimes irl stuff happens and it takes time to make content.

-Will not accept controversial/gore/nsfw/sensitive topics and such other asks.

-Please be a kind person.

-Unfortunately I don’t do commissions or requests

-Reblogs, Comments, and Likes are greatly appreciated!! Your support helps to promote my works!

-If you’re a nsfw bot you’ll be blocked. Nsfw blogs pls don’t follow.

GALAR SOULMATE SERIES

A small series based around reader isekai-ing themselves into the game world of Galar and falling for one of the main league members.

ϞϞ (๑⚈ ․̫ ⚈๑)∩

Book 1: Love Doesn’t Do Encores- For as long as you can remember you've always had a hard life but add the fact you suddenly find yourself inside a game and that's just a whole recipe for disaster. But there's a slim chance once the game's story ends you can go home. All you have to do is wait it out. But what happens when you meet one gym leader who you manage to catch the eye of?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29326827

(Book Status: Completed.)

Book 2: A Champion Time For The Heart- You used to love playing Pokemon as a kid! But sadly all things must comes to an end. Hobbies come and go. Or do they? The day before you're supposed to leave for college, you instead wake up in the very game you last played. Well great. But you're in luck! If Gloria or Victor manages to play through the game and win then you might get to go home once the game ends! But what happens when the strongest character in the game ends up taking a liking towards you?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41795457

(Book Status: Completed.)

Book 3: Dragon’s Treasure- (A spin off from the first two books) Y/n L/n just wanted a quiet life for herself raising pokemon in her wooded cottage and running her secret shiny haven. But there was one problem. Dragon Boy wouldn't leave you alone. Ever since your first meeting in Hammerlocke he hasn't been able to get you out of his mind. What's a dragon to do but go after the best treasure?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40207662

(Book Status: Completed.)

Book 4: Diamond In The Rough- (Another spin off from the first two books) It's all over. Y/n doesn't have to ever worry about anything ever again! Her friends are safe. Her pokemon are here. She's got new friends and family. And she never has to go back to her control freak, narcissist mother. So...what now? Well her original plan was to attend college so why not go to the Circhester Community College? It's a lot simpler than the colleges back in her world and it wouldn't hurt to get a degree! There's only one teeny problem. What happens when you managed to pierce the rock solid heart of the local gym leader?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43316694

(Book Status: Completed.)

Book 5: Applin Of My Eye- (The final spin off from the first two books.)Everything was fine now. Eternatus was defeated. The bad guys caught. No more things to worry about...Or at least for Y/n. A small encounter with a certain farmer has made him realize that he never apologized for bowling her over with a wooloo. So when the woman who helped save Galar shows up on his doorstep with an injured wooloo he may realize that maybe he had some secret feelings he never expressed to her in the beginning.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47448226

(Book Status: Completed.)

Book 6: Isle Connections- (The actual real final spin off book)You're not sure how you stayed but you did. Never again to return home. After all the game's storyline was over. Now what? Well you were hired to play babysitter yet again so it looks like you're heading off to the famous Isle of Armor. Maybe this would be a fun time with your friends! Now only if this goofball wouldn't be such a pain.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52285333

(Book Status: Completed.)

ϞϞ (๑⚈ ․̫ ⚈๑)∩

POKEMON ONESHOTS

ϞϞ (๑⚈ ․̫ ⚈๑)∩

Pokemon x Reader Oneshots- A few oneshots with some pokemon characters. Not very many but here regardless if anyone wants to read through them.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23554213

(Status: Completed.)

Posessive- Never underestimate the perseverance of a yandere blonde.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54388603

(Story Status: Completed.)

Pokemon Posts- Pokemon posts from my tumblr.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57917227

(Story status: Completed.)

ϞϞ (๑⚈ ․̫ ⚈๑)∩

⠀⠀⠀ANOUNCEMENT

Im moving. Don't worry. I'm not abandoning this blog and will still post my Pokemon content here. But most of my time, and works will be posted to my new blog so if you want to see more from me go there.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

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lavynrose · 3 years ago

Note

- a oneshot for artem wing when he finally mustered up courage to ask out their s/o to hang out as friends (theme parks or just garden strolls, you can pick which type of place you want i won't mind!) to confess to them and when he confesses their s/o confesses at the same time too? and the s/o is kinda shy and awkward with him so he gets surprised and all flustered with them confessing at the same time?

(ackk this has been stuck in my head for a while, sorry if there are any grammar mistakes since english isn't my first language! i hope u have a great day!! :D <3)

- coomkie anon ♡

Artem Wing and his s/o confessing at the same time pt. 1

Title: Dedicated

Pairing/s: Artem Wing X Reader

Pronouns: Gender Neutral

Genre: Fluff

Warning/s: Grammatical errors probably

Notes: blushy artem is best artem, and we have celestine being the best wingwoman again

enjoy an amusement park date with Artem <3

Artem Wing is a dedicated man.

If it had been any other person, they would be home right now.

but not him.

Even now, as the looming hours of the night began to tick, he sits at his swivel chair, busied with the love of his life called paperwork.

"Aren't you overworking yourself?" He looked up from his papers to see Celestine waltzing inside his office with documents in hand.

The question should've made him stop and think to at least consider getting rest, but no, we're talking about Artem the workaholic here.

He has heard Celestine's question directed at him for the past few days, and from different people at that.

"Overworking means I have more time to double-check these documents," Artem said as he reached out for the folder that Celestine brought over, "Don't you think it's pretty convenient?"

"Artem," She started with concern in her blue-green eyes, "I know you're trying to distract yourself."

Artem was silent for a few moments before coughing, "Whatever do you mean? There's nothing I have to distract myself from." He said with complete calmness in his voice that he could even fool himself.

"You don't have to hide it, you know? I see the way you look at them," She smiled as she recalled the lingering stares and soft smiles setting display into Artem's face when he's around his colleague "The way you act around Y/N." she added with a hint of teasing.

The mention of your name seemed to short-circuit Artem's brain, Celestine took advantage of this with delight.

"Also... They've been getting friendly and close with that new employee.." She puts her hands on her chin, thinking.

Earlier today, she caught Artem's looks of distraught while his eyes were on you and the new guy. You were having a friendly conversation.

Too friendly.

After that, The youngest senior attorney even requested you to work with him at his desk, claiming that he, quote "needs to keep close tabs on the files that Y/N is handling." end quote.

but Celestine knew better.

Jealous is the only word that can describe how Artem was acting. She decided she will push his buttons tonight.

"Aren't you... threatened?" She beamed at him, waiting for his reaction.

"..."

"They've been on your mind lately, I reckon."

"..."

"They're getting closer with each other, don't you think?"

"..."

Hopeless. Celestine thought.

To say that she's frustrated with this whole situation surrounding the two of you is an understatement. Everyone in your circle clearly sees it - you and Artem like each other.

In the way he bought cake for the whole office that one afternoon the day after an episode of an office drama aired, or in the way that he went out of his way to take care of you in the hospital when you overworked yourself to sickness, or in the way you blushed around each other, the lingering touches, oh the lingering touches. It was all obvious.

The both of you spend your time together more than anyone else, everyone thinks your blooming affections were inevitable at this point. Solving controversial cases meant having the mental and emotional intimacy to get to know each other better compared to your average professional relationship.

You don't see each other as "working partners" anymore, it's clear that you guys want each other as a different kind of partner.

It was known to everyone except for the two of you, apparantly.

Celestine sighed before rummaging through the magazine shelf in the office, grinning when she found what she's looking for.

Artem shot her a look of suspicion. He has a bad feeling about this.

"There." She said with satisfaction before dropping the magazine into his desk.

The magazine lays there, with an eye-catching font and colorful cover page, Artem blushes as his eyes read, 100 cute date ideas...

Judging from the cover, the magazine might actually be useful when giving date suggestions. Under the big font however, there was a smaller text that read, Your significant other is waiting!

What is this...

"I'm sorry but I have work to finish." He tried his best to unsee what he just saw, and decided to turn his focus on the headache of workload in front of him instead.

Celestine raised her eyebrows at him with a frown, "Don't be stubborn now, I'm your boss, I'm giving you both a day-off tomorrow. I mean, you haven't used your day-off at all ever since you started working here. So please. " Her voice is laced with concern.

He looked away with a sentimental look in his eyes, "You don't have to do this for me. I'm fine with... Giving them affection without them realizing it."

Celestine just frowns deeper.

"Come on now Artem, doesn't it sound tempting to you?" She clasped her hands and continued a little too excitedly like a schoolgirl in love, "Having alone time with Y/N, finally asking them out on the date so the other guys threatening your future can back off."

It does sound tempting, Artem admits.

He looked away with reddened cheeks, "I'll think about it."

He doesn't need to look at Celestine to know she's sporting a big grin right now.

Later that night on his bed, his mind keeps flashing images of you. You, wearing a big, warm smile on your face. You, with your little mannerisms that he came to memorize from hours of being with you. Every little thing, every moment, as long as it's with you, he cherishes it.

Oops. The butterflies are starting.

He didn't mind.

You looked stunning today, but then again, he finds you stunning everyday.

When was I this cheesy? He thought to himself.

His thoughts kept racing with reveries about you when a new image interrupted every nice thought.

It was of you and the new employee laughing together.

He frowned and his stomach churns.

"Are they interested in each other?" He finds himself asking the wind. His mind was reeling.

He thinks about the time when he first heard you say that you were married to your work. Surely, you aren't interested in being in a relationship with some guy, right?

Right?

Groaning, he then realized that he needs to make a move now before it's too late.

To him, you're the loveliest person he's ever met, your kindness, your welcoming smile, the passion that you present when you're in the court, the way you always remain headstrong no matter how many people clash with you and try to break your principles.

The only one that occupies his heart, you.

Artem is sure he won't regret giving you his feelings, and eventually, reveal them.

He got up from his bed and sent a glare at the magazine that is now resting on the lamp table beside his bed, mocking him. He picked it up with less hesitation than before.

'What should I choose?' Artem asked himself before flipping the pages, a faint blush adorning his cheeks.

This is a big step for him, and he wants to make sure that he's going to do it right.

7:00am

You rubbed your eyes and stretched your limbs as the sunlight permeated through your bedroom window, the yellow glow giving you a peaceful feeling, a new day is about to start.

A new day without work at that.

You had been ecstatic when Celestine called you to inform you last night of your long awaited day-off, you smiled at the memory as you stand up to brush your teeth.

"You deserve it for all your hardwork!" Even through the phone, you heard the smile in her voice.

Soon, your thoughts drifted to a certain raven-haired man.

'How about Artem? I'm his assistant, does he get a day-off too?' You wondered as you finished washing your mouth, finally heading off to the kitchen to prepare for breakfast.

You were about to choose what to eat from the fridge when you hear a song play from your phone in your room.

You hurriedly went back as you recognized that ringtone - that ringtone you had set for a particular contact.

There on the screen, displays the name of the object of your affections.

Mr. Wing.

'Why is he calling this early? What could he possibly need?' you thought to yourself before pressing the green button.

"Good morning Artem, what is it?" you didn't even try to hide the happiness from your voice, Artem calling you this early doesn't happen often, after all.

"Good morning. Do you have plans for today?" His morning voice echoed through your ears. It was husky and rough, filling all of your senses.

Realizing that he just woke up, you can't help but blush at the thought of being the first person to talk to him today.

He thought of you first thing in the morning!

You tried to control the lingering heat in your face as you replied, "Uhm, yes uhh- none. I have no plans for today, Artem. I'll be thinking of what to do though. Why did you ask? " You hoped he didn't mind the sttuttering mess presented to him this early in the morning.

You wondered if there's an emergency case needed to be taken care of, he rarely ever calls outside of work.

Then again, you're always at work.

"That's good," the other line was silent for a bit. As your anticipation for his reply grew, he finally said, "A new amusement park is going be opened today. I heard they'll be having a fireworks display tonight to celebrate the opening."

You've heard about the said amusement park from your coworkers yesterday, you even heard that it was a project from PAX.

Marius' wealth truly knows no bounds, you thought.

Kiki even invited you to come with her this sunday, as it's the only freetime the both of you had before Celestine's sudden news of a day-off.

Is Artem coming there today? He doesn't seem like the type to go to amusement parks, but now you know that he likes them, or at least he didn't mind going, you added this info to your list of things about Artem that make you fall in love with him more and more. Because let's be honest, what's there not to like about the man?

He's handsome, sweet, a good cook, a senior attorney you can look up to, and he always makes sure to reassure you that you're doing well, that he's proud of you.

He cleared his throat, breaking you out of your thoughts, "Do you want to go there..." He paused, his nerves getting the better of him, unbeknownst to you, "With me? I have two tickets, and I wanted to invite a close friend. Is that alright with you? "

What?

'Is he asking me out on a date!?' you were practically screaming internally as you paced frantically in your room.

No. No way. This isn't a date. Not until he says so.

He said 'close friend' so you shouldn't overthink this. You were partners, after all!

At least you try to convince yourself.

"Of course Artem. I'm glad you invited me, I'm really happy." You weren't lying, his invite was the most unexpected thing that happened to you this week.

He hummed, "I'm happy, too. I'll be there at 2:30pm to fetch you, they'll open around 3pm. " He said in a gentle voice before hanging up.

You pumped your fist in the air. You have plenty of time to prepare.

2:30pm

Among all of the outfits that you could've worn today, you decided to wear a cute, beige, knitted sweater. A pair of faded ripped jeans, white sneakers, and a beanie to top it all off.

The amusement park being your destination, you decided to wear casual clothing since you'd be hopping on rides left and right.

You wouldn't want to wear a skirt just for it to blow on the wind while you're in the air, screaming for dear life.

Nope. You definitely don't want that.

You're now waiting outside your apartment after Artem sent you a text 5 minutes ago that he's on his way.

Your head is plagued with expectations on how this friendly date is going to go. You've never felt as giddy as this before.

It's understandable, right? The person you like asked you out to go with him to an amusement park - using his morning voice, nonetheless, so it wouldn't be strange for you to think that this is like an actual date.

You bonked yourself mentally.

You keep reminding yourself that it's just a friendly date. It's just a friendly date. You believe in the power of your mind, it's a friendly date. He even said so himself.

Artem's going to think you're weird. It's not like you're going to hold hands or anything...

Yet, you didn't even try to stop the daydream clouding your mind.

While you were busy indulging yourself in your fantasies, your eyes caught a familiar spot of black in the parking lot. Artem's car!

That's your cue. When his car stopped, you made your way over to him with a small smile on your face.

His black car opened, spilling out Artem clad in his casual clothing.

You scanned his appearance, taking in those breath-taking, familiar eyes. Taking in the beige, knitted sweater he's wearing, paired with slacks and black shoes.

Wait.

You did a double take- beige, knitted sweater?

You looked at his clothes, then looked down at your own, then back at his again.

Red and warmth crept up to your cheeks as realization hits you.

You kind of looked like a couple.

"What's wrong?" Artem inquired with concern as he stepped closer and reached out his hands to your flustered form.

He even placed his hand on your forehead to check your temperature.

Yes, you think you have a fever.

It's only when he got to take a good look at you when realization hits him the way it hit you.

He retreated his hand and looked away, face as warm as yours.

"Uhh..."

"..."

Why are you acting like a highschooler!? You're better than this, getting flustered just because you wore identical clothes.

With the person you like, you added.

The both of you stayed silent for a few seconds before you spoke up with a grin, thankful that the pink that dusted your cheeks is now cooling down a bit, "We should get going now."

You expected the ride to be as awkward as earlier, but to your relief, that wasn't the case at all.

Artem played the radio on your drive to the amusement park, and even asked you about how you're feeling lately and whatnot.

Honestly, with how he's always so concerned about your well-being, you're doomed to fall even harder.

"What are your favorite rides, Artem?" You decided to talk about something connected to where you're going to go.

"Hmm," as he hummed, you looked in front of the car to see the gates of the amusement park came into view. You can even see the familiar structure of a rollercoaster and a really grand ferris wheel turning slowly.

Majestic.

Is the motif for this amusement park golden!? The railings are shimmering with gold, some parts of the rides are adorned with gold, wherever you look, gold!

PAX outdid themselves with this one, definitely took "shining, shimmering, splendid" to a whole new level. Too much for the word grandeur, you think.

You can't even imagine how wide the place must be. You haven't even stepped foot inside, yet your eyes were oogling as some more rides were seen from outside the gates.

"We're here Artem! Look!" From your side, Artem turns to take a look from the road to the park, his eyes screaming nothing but amusement.

"It's beautiful," He breathed while you nodded furiously with agreement. He shot you a look, "I'm glad I get to spend my first time here with you." The softness is his eyes is blinding as you stared at him and processed his words.

"Me too..." you managed to choke out, turning away to hide your blush.

While you were taming your flushed cheeks, Artem had parked the car already.

He opened the doors for the both of you as he offered you his arm. Confusion takes over your features.

"So you wouldn't get lost, it's a big crowd out here, " He tilted his head to have a better look at your still sitting form inside the car, "Let's go?" He said with that gentle smile, as comforting as ever.

You stood up and linked your arm with his and suggested, "How about the bumpy car first?" excitement was evident in your voice.

He shook his head and chuckled, "Whatever you wish." He said as he locked the car doors with a click. You both headed to check in and do the formalities first. After all that, with a skip to your step, you pulled Artem to the bumpy car's ticket booth, and went inside.

You're elated.

"I can't believe the Artem Wing, the youngest senior attorney, is losing to me!" You sound hysterical as you bumped Artem's car with yours over and over, your bumpy car dominating his.

This is fun! Just minutes earlier, the atmosphere between you and Artem seemed a little tight because of the matching clothing incident. Just a little. However, the laughter of everyone playing in this space is infectious, it leaves you in a really good and playful mood.

It makes you feel like you were a kid again. You hope Artem feels the same.

Before playing, you made a bet with him earlier that whoever bumps the other the most, wins.

"Y/N. I think this car is defective." He said with a frown, his eyebrows furrowing as his hands tinker whatever there was in the steering wheel.

You looked over to him and replied, "We can switch cars, let me see." The two of you switched from each other's bumpy ride and you assessed the supposedly 'broken' car.

You realized he didn't push the right buttons to ride the bumper properly.

"Artem..." You looked at him blankly and said, "Have you ever been to bumpy cars before?"

He was silent before replying with darting eyes, "No, I haven't," He cleared his throat, "I have only been to the ferris wheel and escape rooms, I haven't been to bumpy rides before. Sorry."

You beamed at him.

"Don't be sorry!" You flail your arms to disagree, "There's nothing wrong with that. I'm actually happy that you allowed me to drag you here despite you not having played it before." You flashed him a thankful smile.

He looked a little surprised at first, but then that warm smile of his came back, "Thank you." You stared at each other's eyes for a few beats in time, his ocean eyes containing a sparkle you rarely see them hold. It looks so gentle, so welcoming.

So fond.

You stared at each other for a while, his deep eyes were enough to drown out the crowd. To drown out everything that existed but him.

Blinking, you snapped out of it to teach him how to drive the car.

The cars were booster types, different from the old models wherein you just turn the wheels and you'll be good. In this specific model, commands are needed to be performed in order for the car to execute it's special feature.

"You turn it like this..." Artem is a fast-learner, so the both you were back on track as soon as you guided him the directions.

In the end, you were tied, the bumper time limit resulting the draw.

"I'm definitely beating you next time!" you declared with a smug look, hands on your waist.

After the bumper, a receptionist from what seemed like a family raft ride made his way to invite the two of you.

"You guys look like you're having fun!" He then pointed at the paper he's holding and said with persuasion, "You're going to have even more fun here! The family raft ride is the only free ride we're offering in the park for it's first day, be sure not to miss out on this special bonus!" He then turned his heel to find more costumers.

You blinked, "Too bad we don't have extra clothes..." You hung your head low and you sighed as your mind thinks of a different ride to enjoy.

"Well, he did say it's a special bonus," Artem pondered, "They sell clothes here anyway, and there are restrooms we can change on," you wondered if this is going the way you think it's going, "I can see no harm in trying this free ride." He finished with the corners of his lips turned upwards.

Your eyes sparkled with so much joy that he's glad he suggested this.

"Then what are we waiting for!?" You squeal and jump from where you stand and Artem could only shake his head at you with an adoring look in his ocean eyes.

You both headed to the line of people waiting to get their tickets for the raft.

"That's a long line..." You're already mentally tired as you stared at the single file of people in front of you.

"There's still plenty of time before the fireworks at 7pm, I can go and buy us ice cream. Do you want some? "

You're face fell, remembering you were on a diet, "I appreciate the offer, but no thanks, I'm on a diet." An ice cream sounds really tempting right now, but you must resist.

"I heard they sell low-fat ice cream in here. How about that?" He proposed as his eyes glinted with satisfaction.

He knew this would do you in, sure enough, you gave him the biggest grin you could muster.

"You're the best, Artem! Any flavor is fine, by the way. " You beamed as he turned his heel to the ice cream stall, you just stared at his back the whole time he was away.

A minute later, the man wearing a cozy beige sweater that matches yours turned around and went over to you, two chocolate chip ice cream in hand. You reached out to take your ice cream, your fingers brushing.

You ignored the tingling feeling and the chills. He looked away.

While eating, you talked about how the line for the rollercoaster was two times longer than the raft's even though it's literally free.

"I believe they added a new feature to the coaster." Artem reasoned.

"You bet. The rides' golden theme is already impressive enough," You eyed the unbelievably long line from the coaster's ticket booth, "We can go back here some time to see that feature for ourselves." your face heated as you realized the implications in your words.

His eyes widened for a single moment and then looked at you with such intensity you can't bring yourself to look away, "I'd love that." a gentle look worms it's way in his features once again.

Comfortable silence dawns on your own, little world while you both busied yourselves in your ice cream.

The two of you were thrilled as it was your turn to ride the raft, ice cream long gone, replaced by the life-vest in your hands.

"Ah," you sighed, fumbling with the vest a little longer than you should have.

Artem, of course, noticed your movements. He was kind enough to help you adjust the vest.

Of course.

"Come here." He said as his arms finds it's way to your waist, pulling you towards his stature. His hot breath hitting your face while he circled his arms around you to wrap the vest securely.

This is not good for your heart...

He's so close, you could kiss him if you wanted...

He pulled away, his warmth lingering still.

Even when the both of you sat down on the raft. The ride is going to start in a few and here you are, lost in the feeling of Artem being near you.

"Y/N," You abruptly turned your head to him when he suddenly called you, "are you nervous?"

You blushed so hard you wanted to evaporate with the water, 'Yes. You make me nervous.' you're tempted to respond.

"Yes, but don't worry about me." was your reply instead, and you smiled awkwardly and stared at his blue eyes, blue eyes laced with concern.

He leaned closer, probably so that the other people within your raft wouldn't hear, "I care about you and I want you to feel as comfortable as possible," he whispered in your ear, sending chills to your spine.

This is definitely not comfortable, Mr. Wing.

Your heart is doing flips, this isn't normal!

"Please tell me if you need something." The gentleness in his voice took your breath away the way it did as the first time.

The fact that he's unaware of his effect on you angered you so much. You scanned his face for signs of teasing. Smirk, maybe a playful glint, anything.

Yet you found none.

The raft began to move, a perfect timing to change the subject!

You leaned on him, but not too close, and whispered, "It's starting."

Water began to splash, as the raft moved with the current.

The track was smooth at first, you getting small splashes here and there.

Until a bumpy track decided to present itself.

Like before, the raft went with the flow of the water, except that it bounced and rotated harshly that one particular splash of water was enough to wet you and your clothes completely.

"OH MY G-" you exclaimed when the raft hit a rough spot again, soaking everyone wet.

You were making a surprised pikachu face as the water seeped into your clothes.

You turned to look at Artem to see his state and you suppressed a giggle with how he's making the same face as you did earlier.

Never in your life you thought you'd see Artem with the surprised pikachu face.

You took pride in knowing that you're one of the very few people who gets to see this side of him.

"Artem!" you shouted through the noisy stream of water. "We look silly!" you laughed as the water rocked everyone in the raft as harsh as it possibly can. Round and round, back and forth.

"We do!" his laughed mingled with yours even when the water relentlessly kept soaking your already wet bodies.

You smiled once again, gazing at his form with profound fondness longer than just a friend would've done.

6:00pm

"That was really fun!" You shouted to the air while Artem scooted beside you, offering his arm like he did earlier, which you eagerly took.

The both of you went for another round on the raft after the first round, not caring about the long waiting line. The ride was worth it!

All you ever did was scream and laugh at each other's state, but it was the most enjoyment you've ever had in years.

You were completely dry now, changed into fresh clothes that were sold as the park's merchandise.

Even with the change of clothes, the clothes you were wearing right now still matched Artem's.

You weren't complaining.

The crowd continues to enjoy themselves, all while the sunset was making everything in the theme park look like a fairytale.

"Yes, it was. I enjoyed it very much." Artem flashed a smile so genuine, you wanted to see this sight a thousand times more. The orange glow of the sunset gives his raven hair a golden shade, light reflecting on his blue eyes, making him look so bewitching. So you carved it to your memory, not knowing how to elicit that same image from him once again.

Looking up at him, and looking back at the things that happened today, you realized something.

You couldn't take this silent pining anymore, you wanted to tell him how precious his smile is to you, to tell him you're glad he's spending his time with you, to tell him to make more memories with you.

To tell him he's the reason of the warmth flooding your whole being right now.

'I'm in love with you' is what you first thought of saying. No matter how cliche that may be, you wanted to let him know, that you're in love with him.

"Uhh, Artem, I-" You were about to spill your feelings then and there when a voice boomed the speakers of the park.

"Everyone! One hour more to go for the fireworks! Please look forward to it!"

Your confession's gonna have to wait for later.

part 2 here

#tears of themis #tears of themis x reader #artem x reader #artem wing #artem wing x reader #tears of themis imagines #tears of themis headcanons #zuo ran x reader #tot x reader #tears of themis oneshots #tears of themis artem #tot artem

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 4 years ago

Note

You said in another post you don’t believe the Knights of Walpurgis (aka Death Eaters 1.0) were all that plausible. Why is that?

Oof, this is a larger ask than I think you intend that gets into a lot of controversial things. Though, I suppose that’s what this blog has become.

Remember when I just talked about my weird fanfiction? Remember those days? I remember those days.

I guess to start out we need to go at a high level and acknowledge a few things.

For all we know about Tom Riddle’s life we know very little that came from himself. Most of what we know came to us via The Halfblood Prince, in Dumbledore’s lessons to Harry.

Think what you will about Dumbledore, benign or evil, but we can all acknowledge that the man had a clear goal and agenda in Halfblood Prince. Dumbledore was facing his imminent death, suddenly he no longer was looking at years but a few months to accomplish everything he needed to. He knows Harry is a horcrux, knows he himself no longer has time to hunt down Tom’s horcruxes himself, and instead must leave all his work to Severus and, partly, to Harry Potter.

Specifically, he has to groom Harry for suicide.

By the time Severus relays the truth to Harry (never mind that this very nearly didn’t happen in canon and what would Dumbledore do then) Harry must be prepared to sacrifice his own life to stop Voldemort. That, or Severus will have to murder the shit out of him, and that was probably plan B but Dumbledore would prefer it if Harry went along willingly so that the whole thing’s a little less shady. Dumbledore’s not murdering children if the children murder themselves!

This means, in part, convincing Harry that Voldemort is such a monstrous evil that his presence on this earth cannot be tolerated. Voldemort cannot be allowed to survive, even if Harry’s death does not guarantee Voldemort’s destruction, Harry must do it because Voldemort is that bad. There must be no hope, no recourse, and the only action Harry can take is martyrdom.

And so, that is essentially what Dumbledore does.

He gives Harry a series of lessons, hand selecting memories of Tom Riddle’s past (often shockingly innocuous), and then narrates them to tell Harry exactly why Tom Riddle is so evil today. The flimsy excuse of Harry wheedling information out of Slughorn is nice, but not necessary, as Dumbledore has no reason to believe this memory contains information he himself doesn’t already know (indeed, that Tom actually did make six horcruxes as he told Slughorn is a very strange coincidence as we rarely end up doing what we thought or being where we thought we would when we were sixteen).

Per Dumbledore, Tom Riddle was born evil by his very conception, is doomed to be a lowly miserable creature, and that murdering him is effectively putting him out of his misery.

Right, how does this relate to this post?

Well, neverminding what JKR says outside of canon, we learn about the Knights of Walpurgis/Tom’s schoolboy syncophants from Dumbledore. Per Dumbledore, Tom Riddle, while a highly respected and charming student was Evil McEvil who had junior cultists galore. So, you see Harry, the man must die (ergo you must kill yourself).

However, this is frankly ridiculous and not in any way believable.

First, the Hogwarts era when Tom’s in school.

Personally, I believe Tom was regarded 100% as muggleborn. Tom went into Hogwarts with the last name Riddle coming from the muggle world. When he gets sorted into Slytherin he can point to know family members at all (and even if he could would, at best, be considered a low class halfblood). Tom doesn’t know the significance of parseltongue and likely tells no one (I’ll get into this in a few paragraphs). Tom may insist that he could be a halfblood, he knows nothing of his father, but given his origins he himself probably believes he’s muggleborn until he stumbles across the hereditary nature of parseltongue.

Regardless, Tom is impoverished, comes from lower class muggle London, has the last name Riddle, no relatives to vouch for him, and you want me to think that the purebloods sign up to be his cult members?

Even though Tom is terrifyingly talented and brilliant, he will be fighting for respect every inch of the way. At best, I see the Slytherin’s tolerating his presence. Riddle’s tolerable, for a muggleborn, it’s a shame that he has such dirty blood but they’ll admit he’s a talented sort.

However, as soon as he’s out of Hogwarts they’ll drop him like it’s hot.

This is evidenced by a few things. Upon graduation, Tom Riddle struggles to secure employment. He tries for the Defense position but is unvested and a recent graduate, and so is rejected (and when he later tries again Dumbledore laughs in his place and says, “Bitch please, I will never hire you, I just accepted your application so I could spend this interview laughing in your face!”) He does not enter the ministry, which would likely have been far more beneficial to getting him a leg up in society.

No, Tom instead secures employment as a clerk and purchaser at Borgin and Burke’s the wizarding world’s shadiest pawn shop equivalent where he spends his time miserably wooing older women so they’ll sell him their fine goods. Dumbledore tries to convince us this was Tom’s plan, that he somehow knew about the locket beforehand, but this is bullshit. How the hell would Tom know that the heirloom undoubtedly locked away under safe and key had been sold to Borgin and Burkes? And even if he did, why would Tom take up this miserable position doing nothing he wanted to do?

Whatever minions Tom is supposed to have, whatever friends, they dropped him completely, pretended they never knew him, and did nothing to secure Tom’s future.

Now, back to the parseltongue bit since I made a promise. I believe Tom told no one. Had Tom told the Slytherins he was the Heir of Slytherin, this would have spread like wild fire not only across the house but the school. All the staff would remember Tom as Tom Slytherin, Tom would likely have changed his name, and frankly Tom probably would have been able to get into the ministry with a name like that. Tom Riddle’s life would have looked very different.

More, had the Chamber of Secrets episode happened in a world where Tom proves his heritage, he would have immediately been caught. Someone in Slytherin, even if only a few dormmates knew, would have narked on him. Someone would have been jealous, scared, etc. and would have turned him easily over to the authorities. A secret like that simply cannot be kept, it would spread, and there would be no needing to frame Hagrid and none of Tom getting off.

More, I always got the feeling very few knew that Voldemort had once been Tom Riddle. First, it would make recruiting very difficult. Voldemort is the mysterious, beautiful, heir of Slytherin who has come back from abroad to save their country. Tom Riddle is a dirt poor mudblood who comes from decades of incest and squalor.

Given the wizarding world at large does not know who Tom Riddle is (proved by The Chamber of Secrets) I would suspect the vast majority of Death Eaters and Order members didn’t either. Dumbledore was the one who pieced it together thanks, in part, to a ten-year-old Tom Riddle confessing his parseltongue abilities.

If Tom Riddle had told most people he was a parseltongue, far more would have made the connection, it would be common knowledge. Which means, of course, Tom Riddle has no ability to prove his heritage and is thus muggleborn swine.

More, I think Tom wouldn’t want Tom Riddle to be associated with Voldemort. When he becomes Voldemort, he will transcend his lackluster origins and become far more than an ordinary, mortal, man. He will leave the name Riddle behind and no one will remember that boy. He will eclipse his past.

Not to mention, that if Tom gave them the excuse of his heritage, it means giving himself the easy way out in Hogwarts. They won’t be forced to acknowledge him, acknowledge that he’s better than them despite his roots, but instead given the easy excuse of “oh, it’s because he’s the heir of Slytherin, duh”. And I think Tom would loathe the idea of that.

Tom wanting to eradicate the memory of Tom Riddle is especially why I think Voldemort came out of nowhere in the 70′s.

Tom doesn’t want to be recognized as Tom, he wants to be mysterious and originless, to give the purebloods everything they want to believe in. If it’s people he went to school with, they’ll recognize him, he’ll be just an ordinary mortal to them. If it’s their young, stupid, children well then he has a real chance.

Voldemort is a figure of myth, something that appears to come out of legend itself, the savior of his country.

He cannot have origin let alone Tom Riddle’s.

Not to mention the idea that multiple people waited on Tom Riddle for generations, even for decades where we know he went abroad and travelled the world, is utterly ridiculous. Why would they ever do this? What do they even gain from this? And why would it take so long to take over this ridiculously incompetent country THAT ALL OF TOM’S RECRUITS ARE PRACTICALLY SET TO CONTROL (the beauty of the Death Eaters is that they form a good chunk of the Wizengamot, and in using them, Tom Riddle effectively destroys the country from the inside out, which I believe was his true goal the entire time).

If Tom Riddle is so terrible, so horrifyingly competent, then it can’t have taken him fifty years of constant work to topple the country.

So, yeah, there were no Death Eaters 1.0.

#ask #anon #tom riddle #voldemort #the death eaters #the knights of walpurgis

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

Note

yandere serial killers are so overused, how about a yandere private investigator? wiretapping you, placing cameras on your home under the guise of investigation — threatening to leak or fake crimes against you if you don’t stay with them or be with them. it makes it even better if YOU’RE the serial killer, because they don’t feel the need to sympathize with you. You’re a filthy murderer, and they’re the only person who would ever accept you. they have the power to ship you off into jail and destroy your life. so just... be a good dear and comply with them.

tw - unhealthy relationships, mentions of death/murder, obsessive behavior, reader is straight-up a bad person.

I mean, if their darling really is a murderer, it'd be the only moral thing to do. You're a killer, a monster, a drain on society and a stain on humanity, and they're a cop, a detective, someone who's supposed to take all the trash and filth in the world and ship it off to some barren, concrete room where you won't be able to hurt innocent people, anymore. You don't try to hide your trail, either, killing sporadically, off of impulse and little else, leaving murder weapons for them to wash off and biological evidence for them to burn and bodies, so many bodies, corpses in every state of decomposition for them to find, bag, and bury on the outskirts of the city, too deep for anyone to stumble across on their own. You move, occasionally, skip town, dye your hair, start going by another name, but you never make yourself hard to find. You've said you wouldn't really mind getting caught, but they'd like to think you're doing it on purpose, that you're letting them follow you so closely. It's your own specially little way of showing affection, of showing that you care, even if your just as quick to press a knife to their throat as you are to invite them out for coffee.

They could report you. They wouldn't even have to get their hands dirty, just point a less biased officers in the direction of your latest mess and let the bloodshed speak for itself. You might get mad at them, you might not, but they'd be able to keep you so much closer, and talk to you so much more, and love you without having to let you pick off all the little, inconsequential nothings that catch your eye. It'd be more convenient, less dangerous, and you wouldn't be able to brush them off so easily, to ignore their attempts to nudge you into a less controversial lifestyle, to run whenever they do more than clean up after you, but they wouldn't get to chase you, if you couldn't run. They wouldn't get to read the cute little notes you leave, tucked into blood-soaked pockets and clenched in ice-cold hands, and they wouldn't get to catch you on their own, they wouldn't get to daydream about the day they're finally ready to take you home and choke that bloodlust out of you with their own two hands. It's for the best, for the greater good. You'll be redeemed, not just convicted. You'll be loved, rather just thrown away and wasted.

Who wouldn't be willing to let a few lives end a little early, for that?

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere prompts #yandere theory #general

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nincompoopydoo · 4 years ago

Text

PINING, BAGELS, REPEAT.

— CHAMOMILE FOR THE INSOMNIAC ; PART 1 / ?

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 1952 holy moly

REQUEST: @raineeace I was wondering if you could do a batfleck x reader where they have some type of friends with benefits relationship but both want to be together so they end up being more cute and awkward?

SUMMARY: You and Bruce’s relationship resides in a gray area between friends and friends that sleep together but the two of you have been pining over each other ever since the agreement began.

WARNINGS: To the victorians users, mentions of the reader and batfleck in the same bed (*gasp*) and being really touchy (in the most pg way possible) and something that’s more than two friends cuddling along the lines.

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

All you could do is stare at the ceiling, eyes tracing the yellow glow of the low light, cascading across the blank, white concrete above you. Your eyes are weary, but your racing mind keeps you awake as you listen to every breath you heave and the light snores coming from beside you. Rolling over to your side, you were met with the sight of a sleeping Bruce—furrowed eyebrows and mouth partially agape. You watched the rise and fall of his chest with each inhale and exhale and how his left brow twitches every now and then. Bruce never truly looked at peace, even while he slept.

You replay the entire day in your head; from coming home from an agitating day at work and the text, you had gotten from Bruce, asking if you could come over at 11 PM to when he called you a good friend because you came even though it was so late. The two of you being friends was anything but complicated but your heart had other plans. Now, there’s a constant burning in your gut with every gaze you hold with Bruce and every touch of his gentle hands against your skin. He’s a puzzling man; it’s no surprise that your emotions are becoming even more entangled with every second spent with him.

Minutes passed, or it could have been hours; you’re not exactly sure how long you spent staring at Bruce while he slept. Maybe it was out of admiration or jealousy because he could sleep and you can’t even get yourself to close your eyes. They feel like they’re burning every time you try to close them. Just then, he shifts under the sheets, one hand now tucked under the pillow below his head, still asleep. It’s dark, but it’s enough for you to barely make out the flutter of his eyes open. You quickly turn away to lie on your back and force your eyes shut, not wanting to get caught staring almost creepily at your friend.

“Are you watching me sleep?” You hear Bruce mumble from beside you. Well, shit. You open your eyes, and you’re back to staring at the ceiling. “No,” you whisper like it’s obvious although you’re lying; you don’t turn to look at him, but you know he’s very well staring at you. Bruce chuckles lightly and you hear the rustling of the sheets once more. He reaches across to lay his hand on the curve of your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. He knows you’re awake. There’s no point in pretending now.

“Can’t sleep?” he queried raspily. You hum in response, tearing your eyes away from the ceiling to him. Your hands clutch the edge of the pillowcase, clinging to it like it’s the only thing that’s keeping you together as Bruce watches you through half-lidded eyes. A moment passes, and he doesn’t say anything. He just...watches you; like he’s trying to read your mind. Panic ensues within you. A part of you is afraid he can read your thoughts at that exact moment although you knew it was impossible but the fear still creeps on you. The fear of Bruce knowing that in that very moment, you take in every detail, every inch of his face, wishing you could be with him without an aching sensation in your chest. Yet, another part of you wishes he would merely read your thoughts so that you could get out of this agonizing position of a rather controversial relationship you have gotten yourself into with a bloody billionaire. Controversial in a sense that you realized you’re starting to see the man, whose bed you lie on, more than a best friend. Heck, you don’t even know if you’re best friends—it’s more of a grey area between friendship and bosom buddies.

But do friends sleep with each other? That's a question you can’t answer for certain and probably never will.

Seconds pass, and the ticking of the clock makes you tick even more. The bed doesn’t feel comfortable anymore, and you’re starting to feel clammy under the sheets. Finally, you bring yourself to look away and sit up, head against the headboard. His eyes are open, almost fully but he doesn’t move. Instead, he watches you with a quizzical look. You rub your face, pushing back the mess of your hair. “My head’s pounding so I’m...going to make some tea. Chamomile or something,” you say with your eyes shut, waving a hand in the air weakly. “Do you want some? Earl Grey maybe?” Without thinking, your hand find it’s way to his, fingers pressed against his forearm. Bruce’s look is soft at your touch, but you don’t see it. The way you already knew his favorite type of tea—strong and intense, and how you naturally reach for his touch with affection. You wear your heart on your sleeve, even in the dark. Bruce loves that about you.

Bruce had a knack of being silent, but it’s caught you off guard and it’s starting to become overwhelming. Then, you feel his other hand clasped on yours and for a split second, there’s fire soaring in you. Your gaze returns to him, smiling ever so slightly. Your stomach does another leap. “No, it’s alright. But, thank you.” Bruce mutters, voice still hoarse with sleep. Your eyes shift to his hand on yours, memorizing the way it feels to be holding hands with Bruce. It’s intimate, and you’re beginning to feel hot. Heat swells in your cheeks when the two of you realize the growing tension in the air. You slipped your hand away, and he clears his throat, shifting to lay on his back instead. “Get some sleep, idiot,” you say as you swing your legs over the edge of the back, slipping out of under the sheets easily. You hear a low chuckle as you padded towards the kitchen.

The sound of a loud slam jerks you awake, tired eyes now wide open. Panic is the first emotion you feel, heart thumping so hard against your chest. You find yourself sitting on a couch as your eyes begin to adjust to your surroundings, skirting across the expense of what you slowly recognize to be Bruce's home. You hear a sputter of curses to your left and you catch sight of the very man at the front door, fumbling a paper bag. You exhale tightly, hand on your chest as he turns to you, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. "I'm so sorry," He’s cradling the paper bag in his arms, lingering by the door. You leaned back into the couch, rubbing your face as you waved your other hand dismissively. "It's fine," you croak out, noticing the throw blanket on your lap. You don't remember that being there. Hell, you don't even remember falling asleep in the first place.

Shifting in his stance, still by the door, his arms nearly give way as he struggles to steady the paper bag once more. Your laugh comes out more like a puff of air. "You know, you should be putting that on the table." There's a crackle in your voice, annoyed albeit amused. Bruce blinks and then clears his throat once. Then, twice. "Right," he mutters, moving towards the dining table in a hurried manner.

You watch him open the bag, and the smell of savory fills the air. He lifts a bagel from the bag, packed in a bagel holder, looking absolutely divine. Your stomach silently rumbles. "I got you a bagel," he speaks plainly and you raised your eyebrows, a smile enveloping your face. Bruce's eyes connect with yours, and he can't help but mirror your expression—softness and something unknown. Affection? He doubts it. "Wait, really?" Your heart soars and you're reminded how handsome Bruce is. Frankly, it was a simple gesture; it's just bagel after all. Yet, on the other end of the spectrum, it's a big deal. He has never done this for you. He's never gotten anything for you in fact. Maybe, it's because you always left before he even woke up.

You eye him as he ambles your way, bagel in hand. Then, he's standing by the foot of the couch with an outstretched arm as he hands you the bagel. "Yes, really." Maybe, it’s all in your mind; you entirely blame it on the lack of sleep. Yet, the way his fingers brush against yours when you grab the bagel from his grasp, it’s like everything changed overnight. Except, nothing happened overnight.

Other than, you know—

You shoot him a teasing smirk. “Have you gotten soft, Bruce?”

Bruce spares you a deadpan look, index finger outstretched towards you as he lifts his mug from the table. “Hey, don’t go there.” You snort and turn your attention to the baked goodness in your hands. With a bite, your complicated feelings for your friend are once again shoved to the back of your mind as you focus on the smoothness of the cream cheese and the crisp of the bagel itself. You don’t see how Bruce hints the softest smile ever as he watches you literally delve into that once bagel.

He should have bought two of those.

Without even thinking, he naturally finds his way to you and settles beside you. He’s very close to you, hips bumping against each other but it’s not like you’ve never been this close to Bruce before. Well, at least not during the day when the two of you are wide awake. You and Bruce sit in silence—you chewing on the last few pieces of your bagel as he casually sips on his coffee, the both of you staring into space.

The air shifts and then tension returns once more.

“How’s your head?” He breaks the silence, watching you just like last night and you’re beginning to feel light-headed. Well, it was alright before but now it’s back. Thanks to Bruce. You shrug, not daring to spare him a single look. “It’s alright.” He nods, taking another sip of his coffee. Every time he looks elsewhere, he finds his gaze returning to you and to be frank, you’re truly an endearing sight for sore eyes. Especially in this moment. Your hair glowing against the sunlight, settled deep into the cushions as you chewed on your last bite. He prefers you during the day, under the sun—It substantiates the fact you’re real and not just someone who turns up for late night rendezvous.

Right, last night. He feels bad for calling you, but he couldn’t get you off his mind.

“Hey, uh, thank you for coming in so late...I’m really sorry about that. Won’t happen again,” he confides, affection glinting in his eyes, “I owe you one.”

You offer him a small smile, eyes tracing his face.

Bruce is just so handsome.

You wave him off, along with your running thoughts before you start overthinking the last four words he just said to you. “It’s fine. You don’t have to. This gorgeous bagel is really more than enough.” There’s a fond look as you speak and if he keeps on staring at you like that, you’re gonna have to just leave, and never come back for another week or else, you’re going to jump into the lake. But you like the company and maybe the way he’s sitting casually so close to you, smiling at you, makes you want to kiss him even more. Now, that’s what friends do, right?

So, you stay. Tucked under a throw blanket with Bruce leaning into the couch as the two of you admire the view of the lake over the Wayne estate, truly enjoying each other’s company for once.

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batman x reader #batman x you #bruce wayne imagine #batman imagine #justice league

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all-might-can-smash-me · 4 years ago

Text

Masquerade

Hawks/Keigo Takami x Reader

Summary: you run into a man who helps you take a short break from the life of a party that could bore anyone to death, he says he has his own agency and struggles with people recognizing him, but that doesn’t ring a bell for you.

Masterlist

The sound of laughter, shuffling expensive fabric, obnoxiously loud conversations, and the smell of expensive beverages wasn’t quite your scene as you stood amongst a circle of people. You stood and listened to them boast and brag behind their little shades or masks that were there in hopes of masking their identities along with their hero names that may or may not have been flattering or embarrassing. Those awful conversations filled with champagne did not mix with the classical music that played from the live, mini sized orchestra either and it could almost make a cringe burden your face behind the simple masquerade mask you wore, but you always caught your emotions from glinting across your face, it was a skill that you needed to learn and master from a young age. That is what came from being conditioned by the commission itself you guessed from early on in your life. Guess you could chalk it up to being old habits that would forever stick to you.

“And you! You were elected as the commission’s designer right? So you get to play around with costumes for heroes all day? Play dress up?” Questioned one of the heroes in the little circle. It perturbed you a bit, you expected to go all night without anyone asking you questions and seemingly being passive aggressive with it. Or that person be slightly intoxicated as well since you could hear the slur in their words and sway in their step. So what do you do?

“Of course, what else would I be doing?” You replied back with a charming smile, flute of champagne soon brought up to your lips as you took a small sip, everyone’s attention now back to their bragging and constant and silent battle on who was the best among them. None of them however were in the top 100, that's for sure.

Your eyes now quickly darted around the room. You wanted an escape, but then what? Find yourself in another circle of heroes who tried to compensate for their lack of popularity? Or have someone else belittle your place in the world? Sitting by yourself didn’t seem at all bad, but what goof will that do? Sitting by yourself in a room filled with people obligated to do good? They would probably approach you and offer to sit with you like the nice popular girl does to the weirdo at school before homecoming queen is voted for. Oh well, you guessed, might as well do as you go. You slowly backed away from the circle, the others preoccupied with themselves.

“Oh no, I’m not interested..” A man spoke out, a woman seeming to follow with every step he took away. He let out a small exclamation as he felt something solid run into his side. You gave a sigh, mouth about to open to scold the person who had bumped into your side, though soon you felt your body be turned, the person who had almost made you soil the front of your dress with your champagne now had their arm around you. “You see, my wife here wouldn’t appreciate me gallivanting around with strange women, isn’t that right dear?”

You were confused and maybe even slightly dazed as you heard the man say that, You were even more in a daze as you looked up to the masked figure and to the red wings that were almost sprawls magnificently out from behind him, glinting under the many lights upon the chandelier above. A little clear from his throat made you come back to your sense as you brought that charming smile you were told to do over and over again, giving a soft nod of your head as you looked to the defeated woman before you.

“You are correct about that dear, I wouldn’t appreciate you going out with mysterious women that aren’t me!” You said with a laugh, flute placed upon a tray of a passing waiter, hand now placed upon the man’s chest, the woman profusely apologizing before scurrying away to hide her embarrassed self amongst the many crowds and to possibly avoid the man’s face along with your own.

“Lets go honey” He spoke, you giving a vigorous nod of your had as took his arm, following after his casual steps and past the many groups of people and passed the open curtains that covered the tall entrances to the many platforms that lined the ballroom. This particular one clichély led to the gardens of the venue. You didn’t care how cliché it was though, you were glad to now catch a break from the annoyances that walked and spat all over those polished ballroom floors. “Man, that was close, thanks for playing along” He said as he let a sigh of relief.

“I should be thanking you, I don’t know how long I could take all those ridiculous conversations anymore” You said as you let go of his arm, taking the liberty to step ahead and down the marble steps the lead to the grass that almost seemed to be fake by how perfect it seemed to be. “Mind entertaining me for a bit? Before we either have to join the party or leave?” You asked with a small smirk to which he only returned as he followed in your shadow, hand soon lifting the small train of your gown. “Lets sit for a bit” you suggested as you sat down upon a small stone bench that was sat off to the side along the cement path that led through the garden or various bushes of flowers and fruit. The masked man sat beside you, the train of fabric he once held now piled onto his lap.

“I would have thought this mask would have hidden my identity, too bad my wings are a dead giveaway” He mumbled, though you only raised an eyebrow at him before looking off onto the garden. “What?” he asked, you only shrugging your shoulders.

“Just that I find you conceited. I don’t know who you are” you pointedly out with a matter of fact tone as you folded your hands on your lap, the other, who you guessed was a hero, looked at you in bewilderment.

“You live under a rock or something lady?” He asked as he ruffled his feathers a bit, face scrunched up with his confusion as you looked back to him accusingly, hands snatching the trail of your dress from his lap, tossing it to the ground as you got up.

“For your information I am a costume and weapon concept designer for the comission...so its pretty much my job to do business with who they tell me about and keep to myself about anyone else.....and gossip magazines and drama news channels isn’t really my thing if you are only known for being controversial.” With that you were marching down the path towards the garden, the man now scrambling up and easily catching up with you.

“Whoa there, I’m sorry, I’m just not use to people who really don’t know who I’m and when I say that I really am not trying to sound so....”

“Douchey?”

“Yeah....douchey” he confirmed with a small laugh as he looked over his shoulder and to the classy party that was still carrying on within the fancy walls of the ballroom. “Look...I’m Hawks” He finally said, reaching out a hand, which you only gave a small glance before you sighed, your hand soon giving his a firm shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise” you spoke out, though you only stiffly and sassily turned away to continue your walk along the crackless cement path, Hawks now falling in step beside you. You were glad, just by a tiny bit, that's all you would admit to yourself as you looked over to him. “So, you area hero I’m guessing? Judging by your name?” You asked as you clasped your hands behind your back, Hawks shoving his hands into the stiff pockets of his trousers.

“Yeah, I am. I have my own agency in Fukuoka city. I have plenty of sidekicks registered with me, but really they end up being my cleanup crew. I’m a little to fast to keep up with” with a sheepish smile he looked down to you who only nodded your head with a hum before looking back ahead. “I can control my feathers from my wings, helps fulfill my need of being a constant mutli tasker” he joked a bit, which you gave a small laugh as you looked to his wings he now stretched out behind him fully. They only seemed to put you in awe as you raised a hand questioningly, only letting your hand softly brush against the red feathers once he gave a nod of permission.

“You seem pretty young, that is a lot you’ve got accomplished” You complimented, your steps now coming to halt as the two of you now made eye contact. Though he looked away to now look up to the starry night.

“I could say the same for you, you are the same age or yet probably a year or two younger” he pointed out before he looked down to you, waiting expectantly for an answer. you gave a nod of your head.

“What can I say? The commission liked what I could do and plucked me right up after my graduation” you said with a small roll of your eyes and a sarcastic chuckle. “Can’t complain, I wouldn’t be standing here with all these opportunities handed to me.” a sigh was soon pushed out into the cool spring air, Hawks giving a soft nod before looking back down to you.

“Yeah, I’m all too familiar with that...” you were just about to open your mouth to ask him a question before you cellphone had began to blare out it’s annoying ringtone, causing your to scramble for it within your bag to finally answer it, walking a bit ahead to hush words into the device before hurrying back.

“I’m sorry, but I have to leave!” you shouted as you were already running off as fast as your heeled feet could take you, Hawks trying his best catch up, but once you had begun to weave through the groups, he lost you. With a curse he got swept away in a group, now to only be left to wish to see you again.

“Good morning!” Called the secretary as you sipped tiredly from your coffee and was now skillfully opening your office door despite the binders and folders that were balanced on your arm. “You had a delivery this morning, so i placed it on your desk” called the secretary as you entered your room, eyes landing upon the flowers that rested in their vase on your desk.

“What in the world....” you muttered out as you settled the things down on the work table nearby, now stepping up to the vase that held the arrangement to pluck off the note that sat in it’s little plastic holder.

‘I didn’t even get the chance to ask for a number let alone an email address or something...so here is mine -Hawks’ and there was the number and there was the stupid grin that managed to crawl on your face as you sat down at your desk now admiring the flowers.

“Goodness..” you mumbled out as you grabbed the remote for the tv that was mounted onto the wall, turning on the channel, listening to the voices as you prepped your desk for the work you were about to begin.

“Number two hero Hawks made an appearance at the ball for Hero and all Hero support personnel and sidekicks hosted by the commission to raise donations for the damage caused by....” Though the rest of the words now drowned out from your ears as your mouth was now agape, you now sitting up straight within your chair as you stared down to the name ‘Hawks’ scribbled on the small piece of cardstock.

“What?!” You exclaimed. Wow...you really escaped that ball with the nation’s number two hero and didn’t even know.

How embarrassing...

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dreamii-yume · 4 years ago

Note

For Malleus’ birthday can we get a date exploring abandoned buildings with him.

Note : This takes place back when you still don’t know what Tsunotarou’s real identity is.

Malleus couldn’t sleep.

Not like he needed much anyway, someone as powerful as him wouldn’t submit to something as primal as sleep. To him, it was irrelevant and the darkness of the night just so happens to be his favorite time of the day. So, he had to do what he always do the best; Escape from the surveillance of his retainers and explore a world he had never been to before. It’s the same old routine every time and yet, the unknown never cease to fascinate him.

However, it was strange to say that no matter how much he walks, his feet would always carry him back to a place that he knows all too well. The Ramshackle Dorm whose only occupant is a petty monster, and a lone human that could not use magic. It used to be his favorite place, although he’ll never actually admit that to anyone. It was a shame that there is now someone to disrupt that atmospheric peace it had. There would be more people that’ll visit that place and soon, it’ll lose all the qualities that made it special.

But even so...Malleus found himself gazing at it tonight as well.

He...Doesn’t really know how he got here in the first place, nor does he ever understand why. It felt like it’s a huge responsibility, to visit the dorm in every way he can. Maybe it was because he’s still attached to the place? Maybe he had already explored everything he has to in this island? No, it’s not that. He was simply waiting...and hoping for a certain someone to come out every time he comes to visit.

“My, my...It’s a surprise to see you still out in the cold at a time like this. Have you had any fear at all?”

One of the residence in that same broken down dorm, a child of a human. She had no powerful magic to compare to his, the odd one in a school focused on honing a wizard’s magical capability. Honestly, she was just an unfortunate creature, a bystander that shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place. Malleus almost feels bad for her, having heard of stories from his supervisor about all the things that this human had to go through with the other dorm leaders mysteriously overblotting. She was a well-developed young woman by human standards, but in his eyes, all he sees is a little girl still in need of guidance.

She was nothing special, and yet, she never fails to put a smile on his face.

“Ah, Tsunotarou...!”

What a ridiculous nickname. If his people were to hear this one human call him, call The Malleus Draconia by such terms, there would be a riot, a controversy. Honestly, if it were anyone but you who would dare to call him by that name, a shot of lightning would’ve probably executed them right on the spot. Guess it was a good thing that you got permission beforehand, huh? Even if you yourself hadn’t realized so, it was charming to say the least.

“I could say the same thing for you too.” You said, with your head held up high to look at him in the eyes. Malleus could not see the tiniest bit of fear in your eyes, it was clear that you did not see him as a threat at all, unlike the others. “Say, didn’t you say that you were a fan of exploring around? I’m kinda in a mood to do just that so, would you like to accompany me?”

Malleus couldn’t help but chuckle at what you said, not one person had ever said that to him with a straight face before. “Was that an invitation, Child of Man? How curious...” He asked, in which he received an eager nod from you. “Very well then, I accept. Honestly, I could never find a gloomy moment with you.”

His comment only left you raising your eyebrow in confusion, something that he had already expected. It was no use on confusing the ignorant any further, after all. Either way, you carry on along with him accompanying you wherever you plan to go.

Some of the places that you both ended up visiting had already been old news to Malleus, having all the time in the world to explore them. However, that radiant in your eyes prevented him from saying anything that would spoil your excitement, your reaction was far too amusing. You were a curious human child, having the courage to look at every crooks a place had without worrying about the risks for traps. For that short time he had with you tonight, he already lost count of how many times he had to use his magic to move away debris away from you, without yourself even noticing. From the large boulders that could actually seriously injure you, to the tiniest of rocks that you wouldn’t even feel, it became a reflex for him to keep a look out for any other danger that may come your way.

Malleus even found himself secretly using magic to lead you to a specific part of a place, one that would make your eyes shine in amazement once you found it. You would go up to him, feeling proud by thinking that you found such treasure yourself when it truth, he played a major role in it. But still, he could never say that, he enjoyed your enthusiasm way too much to do so.

“Exploring like this really takes the energy out of you quick, huh...” You said as a yawn escapes you. Initially intending to take a break, you and Malleus sat beside each other in a nearby bench, a lamp post illuminating the surroundings.

With his arms crossed, Malleus observed the way you rubbed your eyes, as if to fight the urge to sleep. It was clear that you’ve already reached your limit for tonight, and although he feels rather disappointed that it would end so soon, you needed to rest your eyes. “Isn’t it about time for you to come back to your dorm? It has gotten quite late.” He suggested with his eyes closed, still in dismay that his time with you is over. Truly, the difference between the endurance between a human and a fae are both far and wide.

“Yeah...” You listlessly agreed whilst nodding off, it made Malleus smile slightly actually. Honestly, you’re hopeless, and with that extreme vulnerability of yours, just imagine all the things that he could do. He isn’t as friendly as you think after all, but revealing that now would simply be boring in his standards, not to mention quite pointless. With only a few months of talking and meeting up like this, you already had come to trust him so much as to never raise your guard up when it comes to him. He should be offended, but there was a certain charm around it when it’s you. “It’s really late, and...”

Suddenly, you looked up, coincidentally seeing a clock post nearby and Malleus had to tilt his head in wonder with that pause in your words. Then, you widened your eyes. “Ah! It’s already passed midnight!” You blurted out in panic, which made Malleus face palm gently, so that’s what this is all about? Just realizing that, you’re such a... “Here!”

This time, it was Malleus’ turn to be caught off-guard as you handed him some sort cloth, no...It was a scarf. “...What do you intend on giving me this?” Malleus asked, looking back at your smile.

You blinked repeatedly. “What do I intend...? Well...” You trailed off, scratching the back of your head before looking back at him with a cute blush on your cheeks. “...It’s your birthday today, isn’t it?”

It took him a moment, slowly widening his eyes as realization came by him. “Birth...day?” It didn’t even occur to him, he completely forgot the importance of this new day that came by. “...How do you know about that?”

“Lilia-senpai told me! Since he seemed to know you.” You beamed up at him. “Though...I kinda panicked a little, and I don’t really know too much about you to actually know what kind of gift you would like...”

You scratched your cheek in embarrassment, looking away from him. “...So, I ended up knitting something and before I knew it, it turned into a scarf, haha...” You sheepishly explained, face burning at how low your reasoning was. “Y-You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, but I’d really appreciate it...If you can at least take it...”

Malleus stared at your face, your usually bright expression had suddenly been overpowered by sheer embarrassment. Your face was red, the way you were biting you lips slightly was a new side of nervousness that he didn’t know about you, nor he had ever known that you were capable of expressing. It was honestly...refreshing to see that, adorable even. Looking at the scarf in your hand, it was true that it looked like it was hand crafted. You still didn’t seem to have a full grasp in knitting yet, judging from the few loosely strands sticking out here and there, but it still wasn’t exactly bad.

Then, Malleus just couldn’t help it anymore. A booming laughter escaped his throat, it was more than a chuckle, he was actually letting out his entertainment right there. “Haha! Oh, Child of Man...You are truly the most interesting human I’ve ever encountered!” He exclaimed, a large smile sprawled on his face.

“I-I am...?” You muttered in a flinch, not expecting him to say anything at all.

“Very well...I shall take it.” It’s not like there was any trouble anyways, Malleus would’ve still gladly take it from you if you were so generously offering it up to him. Regardless if it was his birthday or not.

“R-Really...!?”

“I don’t see why not.” Malleus said, raising his eyebrow with a smirk that can never disappear from his face for some reason. “I’ll even give you permission to place it around me and let you see how it looks.”

“Yay!” You cheered, scooting closer to him with the scarf on your hands. Malleus instantly noticed the gesture you gave him and lowered his head slightly, just enough for you to wrap the fluffy fabric around his neck. Tying them up nicely, you marvelled at the way your horned friend look. “Wah~! Tsunotarou, you look adorable! And comfortable too!”

A twitch displayed on his eyebrow, but you playfully dismissed it. “Is that so...” He said and you nodded vigorously. He huffed, the cold was not an enemy to him at all, he has a natural tolerance when it comes to it. A scarf was something that is normally pointless to him but surprisingly, he felt warm. Maybe not because of the heat it provided, but because he could feel the immense care and loving effort that you put into making it. “Well...Whatever makes you happy.”

Giggling, another sleepy yawn escapes you, but it sounded way more exhausted than the previous one. Without thinking, you lay your head on Malleus’ shoulder, startling the fae. “Hehe...Tsunotarou’s so warm...” You said, leaning your forehead against him, with your hands clenched around his sleeve. Malleus kept quiet, he couldn’t say anything back as he just stared at your form, waiting for your next response.

...But what greeted him next were just a batch of soft snores, suggesting that you had finally succumbed to your battle against the overwhelming slumber. Malleus blinked a few times, before chuckling at your behavior. Even in your sleep, you sound so chipper, probably because of the fact that you’ve accomplished something for tonight. He raised a hand and hanged it around your shoulder, pulling you closed for more comfort. He glanced down at your sleeping figure, still can’t believe that you fell asleep in his presence.

Sometimes, Malleus wonders what you would be like if you’ve met in an alternate universe where you’re aware of who he is. Would you be scared, or would everything stay the same as always? When it comes to you, he still couldn’t determine which would be the exact answer. But if he were to ask you that same exact question, a part of him could just laugh and sit back as it wouldn’t really matter. He already knew what you were going to say, after all.

“Tsunotarou would always be Tsunotarou”

...That was what you told him before too, right? Malleus liked that answer, it was really something to expect from the strangest human he had ever meet. So, until then, there was no reason for him to doubt you. He’ll believe your words as he continues to wait for the inevitable day that you will come to know of his real name. He doesn’t have to rush, he’ll cherish these moments for a little longer, while he still can.

It was funny, for the first time in his long years of fae life, he was fine putting his arms around a human like this. He even go as far as to keep you warm from the cold, making your slumber a little more comfortable. Closing his eyes gently, he leaned his head close to your own, foolishly basking in a human’s warmth himself...How scandalous for the future heir of the Valley of Thorns, being so intimate with a mere human like this. The very fact that he’s enjoying this moment right now is a sin of itself, he’ll be in so much trouble...

...And yet, for the very first time, Malleus could not care less.

MALLEUS AND YUU INTERACTIONS ARE THE BEST SCENES IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE GAME.

CHANGE MY MIND.

...Actually, no. You can’t, it’s too late. I’m already feeling so girly for this ship.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #Birthday Crumbs (Malleus)

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samwisethewitch · 4 years ago

Text

Curses and Hexes

Cursing is one of the most ancient forms of magic — and one of the most controversial. Whereas most magic is constructive (used to manifest or attract things), cursing is destructive (used to cause misfortune or harm).

Technically speaking, curses and hexes are similar but different types of spells. A curse consists of written or spoken words, sometimes combined with gestures. A hex is a ritual involving material items. However, most modern witches use the terms interchangeably, as I do in this post.

The fastest way to start a debate in any witchy community is to bring up the topic of cursing. It seems like everyone has strong opinions on the subject, either for or against. For your practice, all that matters is what you believe.

So, When Is It Okay to Curse Someone?

This is a tricky question, and the answer depends on the witch.

There are some witches who believe that intentionally causing harm or misfortune to another person is always wrong, and will never cast curses for this reason. This is an entirely valid position! If you fall into this camp, know that you’re in good company.

Other witches believe that cursing is acceptable when it’s truly warranted by the situation, such as when your life or livelihood is in danger. Others believe that cursing is simply a means to an end, and can be done with good intention (cursing your friend’s unfaithful partner to get them to stop cheating, for example).

The one thing that most witches seem to agree on is that curses are serious stuff, and should not be taken lightly. Unlike other types of magic, curses are fueled by negative emotions like hate, anger, and heartbreak. This makes them very powerful, but also very draining for the witch casting them. Cursing someone means reliving any trauma you suffered at their hands in order to use those memories as fuel for the fire. Some people aren’t willing to put themselves through such an ordeal, which again, is entirely fair.

Because curses are fueled by such strong emotions, they’re powerful and volatile. They’re like the nitro fuel of witchcraft — if you don’t know what you’re doing and aren’t careful, someone could get seriously hurt. That someone could be you.

My personal view on cursing is essentially the same as my view on physical violence. It’s not the answer to all, or even most, problems, and it sometimes makes the situation worse instead of better. It should never be your first option, but it might very well be your last resort. If someone is holding you at gunpoint, you’re entitled to use violence to protect yourself. Likewise, if someone is putting you or a loved-one in life-threatening danger, you’re entitled to use whatever magical means necessary for protection.

Before You Curse

If you think there’s someone in your life who deserves to be cursed, go through the following criteria to decide if cursing is really the most appropriate action.

Sleep on it. When we’re in the heat of the moment, we sometimes say or do things we don’t mean. If you think you’re angry enough with someone to curse them, give it a couple of days before you reach for the vinegar and chili peppers. Give yourself time to cool off and clear your head. If, after a week, you still feel like a curse is warranted, move on to the next step.

Think about your own motives. Why do you want to curse this person? What did they do to make you angry enough that you’re willing to use magic to harm them in some way? If it’s a minor annoyance, like cutting you off in traffic, a curse probably isn’t appropriate. Likewise, if your motivations are petty or catty in nature — like cursing someone because they beat you out for a promotion — I highly encourage you to stop and do some self-reflection. For one thing, you may not be able to conjure enough genuine hatred and anger for an effective curse. For another, in these situations you may find it more helpful to do some work on yourself (working on anger issues, learning to gracefully accept failure, etc.) rather than lashing out at someone else.

Ask yourself if this situation matters in the long run. It may feel incredibly important now, but try to take a step back and look at the big picture. Will this person matter in a year? Five years? Ten? Are they important enough to warrant allowing yourself to channel enough negative energy for a curse? (If this person is putting your life, livelihood, or safety at risk, the answer to all of these questions is YES!)

Make sure your anger is directed at the right person. Who is really responsible for the pain you’re feeling? For example, if your significant other cheats on you, your first reaction may be to curse the person who “stole” them from you. But you aren’t really upset with this person — you’re hurt because your partner betrayed your trust. I’m not convinced that a cheating partner is a serious enough reason to cast a curse (again, will it really matter in ten years?) but if you decide to do so, at least make sure it’s directed at the person who is truly responsible for your pain.

Consider doing a banishing instead. In situations where a person is a danger to you or your loved ones, sometimes the best option is to give them a magical push out of your life. A banishing does what the name implies — it banishes a person or thing from your life. Unlike a curse, a banishing does not cause harm or misfortune to the person being targeted. It simply removes them from your life.

You can perform a simple yet effective banishing with a piece of paper, a pen, cayenne pepper, and dried lavender. Write the name of the person or thing you want to banish on the paper. Look down at the name and say, out loud, “[Name], you are no longer welcome in my life.” Sprinkle a bit of cayenne on the paper and instruct it to burn this person out of your life. Sprinkle a bit of lavender on the paper and instruct it to bring you peace and healing. Fold the paper up to create a little packet around the herbs, then take it outside and burn it to ash. (Be careful — cayenne smoke burns!) As the paper burns say, “I banish [name] from my life, never to return.” Scatter the leftover ashes on a busy road.

Consider doing a binding instead. Maybe you don’t necessarily need someone out of your life, but you do need to take away their power to cause harm. In this case, a binding is your best bet. A binding is a spell that “binds up” someone’s power, preventing them from taking certain actions. This can be useful for dealing with people who are toxic or abusive. Like a banishing, binding does not cause harm or misfortune to the target.

You can perform a simple binding charm with a photograph of your target, a pen, and red or black thread. Write your target’s full name (or as much of it as you know) across the bottom of the photo. Look down at the photo. Say, out loud, “[Name], I bind you. I bind up your power, so that you can no longer ______.” Fold the paper up as small as possible. Then, begin to wrap the thread around the folded paper. As you do, say, “[Name], I bind you.” Continue wrapping until the thread completely covers the paper — there should be no paper visible.

For whatever reason, some people seem to have a natural resistance to banishing and binding. You may find that your spell works for a while, but the person you tried to banish/bind eventually returns to their old ways. There’s some debate about why this happens — some say it’s because these people are narcissists or energy vampires, while others think it has something to do with their force of will. Personally, I think it’s because some people are so nasty and hateful that it takes nasty, hateful magic to get rid of them for good. If you find yourself dealing with one of these people, and your banishings and bindings aren’t sticking, you may want to move on to a full-fledged curse.

Creating an Effective Curse

Okay, you’ve done your self-reflection, you’ve considered or attempted a banishing and/or binding, and you still feel like cursing is your best/only option. In that case, here are some general guidelines for making sure that your curse is appropriate, effective, and ethical.

Be VERY specific. Don’t just lob a ball of negative energy at someone and expect it to do what you want. Be very, very clear about your intent for this curse. Use precise and specific language. Make it painfully obvious what you want to happen and how you want it to unfold.

For example, when writing a petition or incantation, don’t just say, “[Name] is cursed.” Instead use something like, “Should [Name] ever contact or harass me again, he/she/they is cursed. Let him/her/them feel what I have felt and suffer as I have suffered.” You could get even more specific and detailed if you wanted to, but the important thing is to establish some basic parameters for the powerful dark energy you’re unleashing.

Make sure the punishment fits the crime. A curse to cause sexual impotence probably isn’t appropriate for an abusive boss… unless that boss is sexually harassing their employees. In that case, sticking a few pins in a rotting cucumber may be just what the situation calls for. (Yes, that’s a real curse. Yes, the cucumber represents what you think it represents.)

Making sure the punishment fits the crime also means being honest about how serious of a curse is deserved. Do you really need to ruin this person’s life to get them out of your hair, or will a mild inconvenience do? As strange as the idea of a curse being fair sounds, avoiding overkill will not only maintain balance but will keep you from expending more energy than you have to.

Make sure your curse is only affecting your target and not anyone around them. When it comes to curses, family, friends, and coworkers can sometimes get caught in the crossfire. To avoid this, make sure your spell is targeted to a specific person by personalizing it as much as possible. Include photos of your target, their full legal name (or as much of their full name as you know), and a taglock if you can get it. You may even want to include a line in your petition or incantation specifying that this curse will only affect the desired target and not their friends and associates.

Set clear conditions/parameters. The most effective curses are situational. Think of it as laying an energetic trap in or around a certain situation — this is more efficient and uses up less of your energy than if you were to just cast a blanket curse that affects every area of the target’s life. Curse parameters take the form of, “If [name] does x, they will be met with y.”

Setting parameters also makes sure your curse is truly deserved. For example, maybe your friend has an abusive ex-spouse, and you want to use a curse to keep your friend safe. If the ex-spouse is already leaving your friend alone, there’s no reason for a curse. But if they aren’t leaving your friend alone, they deserve to be met with vicious, magical resistance. For this situation, you may want to use an incantation like, “Should [ex-spouse] ever approach or contact [your friend], they are cursed with discomfort, unrest, and legal trouble. Let them be hunted and put down like a rabid dog.” This ensures that if, at any point in the future, the ex-spouse starts harassing your friend again, the curse will immediately go into action.

Don’t attach yourself to the curse. Perhaps the most important part of cursing is making sure you keep the energy of the curse separate from your own energy. Revenge is a double-edged sword, so you need to take precautions to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.

Any time you cast a curse, you want to limit its connection to you as much as possible. Don’t include any of your own personal effects in the spell. You may also want to avoid using tools that hold a special place in your practice. For example, you may not want to use your altar as a place to craft curses. You may want to use materials that can be disposed of easily. Make sure to dispose of curse remains somewhere outside your home, such as at a busy road.

After casting a curse, it’s important to set aside some time for self-care. Start with a thorough cleansing. This can be as simple as taking a bath in salt water (or dumping a bucket of salt water over your head in the shower, if you don’t have a tub), but if you would rather do a full-fledged cleansing ritual, even better! It’s important to do something to remove any lingering negativity from your energy field, and to make sure the curse doesn’t attach to you in any way.

Cursing is intense, emotional, draining work. After casting a curse, take at least a few hours to rest and be kind to yourself. Eat your favorite foods. Take a nap. Read a book or watch a movie. Do whatever you need to do to make yourself feel good.

You may want to do some inner work after cursing to help process the intense emotions involved in this kind of magic. This can be journaling, meditation, energy work, or some other healing modality. If you’ve experienced serious trauma, you may want to consider speaking to a therapist or counselor in addition to doing work on your own.

Resources:

Utterly Wicked by Dorothy Morrison

Of Blood and Bones by Kate Freuler

New World Witchery podcast, “Episode 102 — Evil”

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