#brotherly love or some shit
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Albus making eye contact with James Sirius in a crowd of laughing students after he was just WINDED by Karl Jenkins and is currently fighting for his life on the hall floor
James Sirius about to comically whistle and look around them then begin muttering something about "how wonderful the walls look today, does Hogwarts have a skin care routine?" before not at all inconspicuously bolting in the other direction
#harry potter#hp#cursed child#hp next gen#harry potter next generation#albus severus potter#albus potter#james sirius potter#i love difficult brotherly relationships#cmon guys jayce couldnt possibly defeat all of Albus' bullies hed have to kill all of Hogwarts#Holy SHIT#ALBUS POTTER VS THE WORLD#they do love each other#but you have to understand#james is in his what? third year?#he has a PERSONA. HE HAS A REPUTATION#and hes barely a teenager#he thinks his brother is just going through some type of hazing process by his yearmates#and by the time he realises its serious Albus has self isolated from everybody#sigh.. idk
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man i need more green day friends/mutuals to talk to regularly 😭😭😭
of the 2 i have, one hyperfixates on them when the moon is in the right place and the stars align, and the other……….. the other i had to explain who henry pissenger was and why i was happy that old fuck bit the dust snnfjdjjfjdj (plus other things said friend has done/said that are. not okay)
pls. pretty pls someone
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#like bro said he hates biden and trump but he would rather vote for trump#dawg just don’t vote at ALL bc why give it to That man???#i also just. hate that i explained who henry kissenger was and he just sighed and said some shit about war being inevitable#and how we ‘never lose wars and are the top dogs’ djjgkdkfj#just realizing this but. why am i often friends w ppl who take my kindness and step over it.#bc he takes my nervous laughter as i found whatever he said funny when it isnt!!#and when i asked why hes so mean to me he said its brotherly love#like dawg i hate my siblings 💀#welp back to venting territory ig#I JUST NEED FRIENDS WHO LISTEN TO GREEN DAY WAAAHH#its rather difficult to find someone who is into them plus all the same bands i like#and yea ppl can listen to the same bands or whatever but no i mean like#the same amount of obsessed for all those bands#yknow how in bandom fixs sometimes members of different bands make guest appearances lol#like that shit. theyre all interconnected in my eyes and i love them all djfjjskd
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Sleepless
Azriel x Insomniac Reader
Warnings: Fluff, mentions of PTSD, probably slight medical inaccuracies dealing with insomnia. SFW
Word Count: 1436
Summary: You've always had bad insomnia, unable to sleep due to trauma, that slowly starts getting better with your mate Azriel and on a particularly rough night you seek him out to help you sleep.
You always had trouble sleeping, sometimes going days to weeks with only 2-3 hours, running on pure adrenaline until eventually your body gave in and you passed out.
You had severe PTSD and the nighttime always made it worse, anxiety crushing you so bone deep as you waited for the next terrible thing to happen to you. The healer’s you’d been to had all tried different methods to trick your restless body and mind into sleeping. Weed, relaxing teas and herbal remedies, tinctures, pills, aromatherapy, exercise. You name it, you've tried it.
The only thing that had even remotely helped you a little bit was Azriel. You don't know when or how but he had suddenly become a safe space for you, the peace you felt around him a foreign feeling, one that terrified you but you had become too addicted to abandon. Over the years, your shy and soft friendship had turned into something more until the mating bond snapped.
The level of commitment scared the shit out of both of you but you wouldn’t be able to handle life without each other. He was a soothing presence and he made you feel safe, cared for and loved. You had never been loved by or been in love with someone as deeply as Azriel.
It never failed to amaze him when you fell asleep around him. He knew about your bad case of insomnia (you’d even passed out a few times in his arms and scared the ever living shit out of him.) So when you fell asleep next to him or even with him it had his heart skipping a few beats, the bond in his chest glowing with pride. It meant you trusted him, felt safe around him and it was the greatest feeling in the world.
This was another night that plagued you, rain pattering against the windows with an unyielding vengeance. Thunder occasionally cleaves the sky. You were at the River House tonight, work had you and Azriel up late as you went over reports with Rhys. Once you all found a good stopping point you headed to your shared bedroom, thankful for the rooms Feyre had installed for you all.
You had tried falling asleep without Azriel insisting he stay to have drinks with Rhysand, giving the High Lord and Spymaster some much needed brotherly bonding time.
All you wanted was to sleep. You were already on your fourth day of no rest and it frustrated you to no end, there’d been multiple occasions of you sobbing to your mate about the lack of sleep, your mind simply refusing to give into the needs of your body. You needed Azriel but you stuffed the feeling down, determined to force your body to rest so he could enjoy his time.
Then an hour passed, then two eventually ticked by and you couldn’t help the gnawing anxiety growing in your gut. It twisted up until you felt nauseous doubt running rampant through your mind. What if something terrible had happened to him? You knew this house was probably one of the safest places in all of Velaris but you couldn’t stop once you started, each dreadful though only growing worse.
A shadow twisted in the corner, skittering across the floor and opening the door to your bedroom. Another shadow curled around your wrist and tugged softly- but insistently and you took the sign for what it was and followed the impatient little things through the winding estate until they led you to one of the main common rooms. You heard the soft voices of Cassian, Rhysand Azriel echoing through the dead silent house.
You were unsure of actually entering the living room, hesitating in the hallway as your stomach now twisting with a different kind of anxiety -what if he was mad at you for being so annoying? for interrupting him?-
The shadows were having none of that and immediately pulled you into the room and you almost tripped on the plush carpet’s until they steadied you. They swirled back to their master and skittered around him excitedly, his eyes immediately found yours and they softened, a look only ever reserved for you and your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Conversation continued but for a moment it felt like it was only the two of you.
The shadows must’ve tattled on you because those bright eyes immediately shifted to concern, you could practically taste the question on his tongue and you shook your head trying to silently tell him you were fine. You crossed the room “When did you get here Cass?” You asked as you settled next to your mate. Your body instantly relaxes at the familiar scent of him. His presence instantly soothes almost all your earlier anxiety.
“About… an hour ago?” The General responded across from you and you snorted at his PJ’s. “Couldn’t miss the fun?” You snarked as you adjusted to lay your body across the couch and placed your head on Azriel’s lap, letting him softly run his hands through your hair.
‘“He has the worst case of FOMO I’ve ever seen.” Rhysand responded with a smirk sipping on an expensive glass of wine.
“No I do not!” Cassian insisted. Azriel and Rhys chuckled at that. “You ran to my home, in sleepwear as soon as my lovely mate asked you where you were.” Rhys pointed out, brows raised.
“Sleepwear? Are you too fancy for the word PJ’s? Gods…” Cassian retorted, turning to his own glass of wine. I chuckled a little bit at that and Azriel sent a wave of love towards me at the sound. “Shouldn’t you be with your mate Cassian?” Azriel joined in on the teasing as shadows retrieved a blanket for you, wrapping it around your shoulders, Azriel still absentmindedly playing with your hair, another hand abandoning his glass so he could trace patterns on your arm.
“She is currently with Gwyn trading me in for some new romance novel I’m afraid.”
“Poor baby.” You mocked, eyelids fluttering close at Azriel’s continued touch, your body slowly melting into him, your side of the bond glowing with contentment at finally being in his arms. Everything about him, his touch, his scent, his voice, soothed your long day and warmed you heart. You chimed in the conversation here and there as it continued for a few more hours until finally your jaw grew heavy to talk, your breathing evening out as you fucking finally slept.
Azriel couldn’t help the warm smile spread across his face at the sight of you. You looked so peaceful sleeping and he was happy you were finally able to catch some rest.
“Look at that.” Rhysand chirped. “He’s so whipped.”
Cassian grinned, opening his mouth to add on but Azriel interrupted him. “Sshh.”
“Excuse you?” Cassian mocked, Rhys eyes alight with amusement. “Did you just ’sshh’ me in my own house?” “Wow that’s just disrespectful, you seriously gonna take that Rhysie?”
Usually Azriel would never dream of doing so, he respected Rhys and would for him but when it came to you and especially your health and sleep..? They kept teasing him trying to prompt a response until eventually he snapped when Cassian’s voice got a little too loud.
“Don’t you have mate’s to look after?” Azriel snapped harshly, Rhysand and Cassian paused.
“Yep, definitely whipped.” Cassian agreed and Azriel’s eyes flashed, his grip on your tightening just slightly, you had been struggling to sleep for days and if his idiot brother’s woke you up not even twenty minutes later than who knows when you’d eventually fall asleep again or worse maybe you wouldn’t and you’d just pass out which isn’t even sleeping- His mind whirled dangerously on how to protect your rest. “This conversation is over, wake her up and I’ll rearrange your teeth.” He responded dangerously, shadows slowly covering your limp form.
Rhysand and Cassian put their hand’s up in surrender, they knew your struggles with sleep and they knew what a male would do to protect his mate and they had reached their limit on teasing, Azriel could be quite terrifying when need be. “Feyre is waiting for me.” Rhysand said with a wink, wishing his brother’s goodnight before gracefully exiting the room. Cassian just mouthed a sorry, patting Azriel on the back before leaving too.
Azriel stayed like that until dawn, not risking a chance at you waking up due to any movement. He was perfectly content to watch your peaceful sleep, listening to your deep breaths as he held you close, continuing to trace those same soothing patterns along your arm.
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#fanfiction#x reader fanfiction#acotar#acotar x reader#acotar fanfiction#fluff#azriel fluff#azriel fanfic#azriel shadowsinger#drabble#one shot#acotar fic#azriel acotar#azriel fanfiction#azriel spymaster#azriel being a cutie
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“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.
Mdni. Nsfw below cut.
- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.
He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.
I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.
- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.
Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’
Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.
That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.
- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.
But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.
- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.
Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.
- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.
Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.
- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.
Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]
MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.
His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.
- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.
It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.
“Didn’t think you’d call.”
“Didn’t think I would either.”
He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.
- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.
So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.
Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.
Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.
- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.
Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.
- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.
He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)
He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.
Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.
LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.
- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.
GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.
#simon ghost riley#cod mw2#call of duty#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost mw2#ghost x reader#cod x reader#call of duty smut#cod smut#141 headcanons#headcanon#drabble
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when leopard!reader realises what a mess the twinkie is, she decides to give it a little spritz-up.
she runs a black acrylic tipped finger along the bumper of the twinkie, a streak of colour trailing through the dull coat of dirt that had built up as she grimaces, the van swaying as the rest of the gang hop out of the rustbucket. she wipes the grub on her denim shorts casually and turns towards him.
“jesus, john b. when was the last time you cleaned this?” she calls to him, hand shielding her eyes as she squints towards the sun, watching as john b and jj continue towards the chateau, stomping the dead grass as kie and pope follow not too far behind.
“ew.” kie comments off handedly, face scrunching up in disgust as she notices the state of it. “uh, few months back?” john b calls back nonchalantly, ignoring jj’s comment of “dude, more like a ‘few years’.”
“haven’t had time to get ‘round to it yet.” he shrugs, spinning back around and traipsing up the wooden steps with the two other pogue boys on his trail. she rolls her eyes, plan already forming in her head as she slings her backpack over her shoulder and jogs to catch up with kie.
half an hour or so later, the boys are lounging on the porch with some beers, the early evening sunset casting a comfortable and calm energy over the group, so mellow they hadn’t even really noticed the absence of the girls until now.
the sloshing of water and grunts of struggle are heard before they’re seen, emerging from around the back of the chateau with buckets filled with water, adorned in the tiniest bikini the boys had possibly ever seen.
“this is gonna be a job n’ a half.” she sighs, panting as she places two heavy buckets on the ground next to the van, kie nodding along with her, hands on her hips as she catches her breath.
“oh my god john b, how do you even let it get this bad?” kie mumbles as she unravels the hose from the tap at the side of the house, both girls not picking up on all three boys stunned expressions.
“what’s goin’ on here?” john b drawls with a lazy smirk, eyes shamelessly trained on the both of them as the other two ogle in silence.
“what’s it look like, douchebag?” she sighs, grabbing the hose from kie and beginning to hose down the roof as kie goes for the sponges and soap.
“looks like you’re washing the twinkie.” pope answers for you dumbly, eyes wide and cheeks noticeably flushed as he stares straight ahead at the van. both of your eyebrows furrow in confusion but neither of you comment, focusing on sudding up the sponges in your grip.
jj chuckles dryly, taking a long swig of his beer, leaning back in his chair and placing his hands behind head. “sit back and enjoy the show, bro.” he grins, giving pope a brotherly pat on the shoulder, a silent plea to get him to ease up a little, eyes still ogling your ass as you scrub at a particularly stubborn spot.
“see the shit we do for you, john b?” you sigh, walking around to the bonnet as you dip your sponge into the bucket of water, tits almost spilling out of the thin material as you scrub at the volkswagen symbol until you can see your face in it.
“actively seein’ it.” he nods flirting, causing you to look at him with a sideways smirk, flipping all three boys off collectively when jj playfully lets out a low whistle. “you’re such pervs.” kie sighs, crouched down as she scrubs at the metal above the wheels, eyes flicking from your smooth thighs to the van.
of course you knew they were loving it, but you loved the chase, even if you’d never admit it. so of course you continued, noticing every little look from kiara, every time jj adjusted the way he was sitting, every time pope cleared his throat nervously, and every time you caught john b shamelessly ogling when he thought you weren’t looking.
so, yeah. sudding up your tits and shaking your body a little exaggeratedly to get a rise out of them wasn’t exactly accidental. after all, little teasing never hurt nobody.
#꒰ leopard!reader ꒱ྀི#꒰ jj maybank ꒱ྀི#꒰ pope heyward ꒱ྀི#꒰ john b routledge ꒱ྀི#꒰ kiara carrera ꒱ྀི#fuck it we’re doing leopard x everyone!#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#jj obx#jj maybank blurb#outer banks#jj x reader#jj maybank obx#obx#john b#john b prompt#john b obx#john b routledge#john b x reader#pope heyward obx#pope heyward#kiara carrera smut#kiara carerra x reader#kiara carrera#leopard!reader
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What about a Jace x sister
Where he fell in love with her and in the same time he is not ok with it. He might be the only Targaryen related who thinks that’s not okay to loved their related. But no matter how he can stopped loving her, she might have a look more “Targaryen” with white hair with some black in it (narcissia Malfoy style?)
He always do some weird shit to be closed to her without drow to much attention, And when they finally get really closed their mother call all the bastard to become dragon rider. And Ulf find them in the Pit and try to get something from them in exchange of his silence.
Jace wake up and choose violence 🫣 and just say no and fuxk her in front of him and say that if he say anything he make sure his dragon will eat him
Sins of the Blood
- Summary: Jacaerys always loved his sister, more than he should. It was wrong, he knew it, but the dragon in him claimed you as his long ago.
- Pairing: sister!reader/Jacaerys Velaryon
- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top. Requests are closed!
- Rating: Explicit 18+
- Word count: 4 000+
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff
- A/N: I've bonded the reader with Grey Ghost for the plot.
The sea breeze dances through the open halls of Dragonstone, carrying with it the scent of salt and the distant roar of the waves. You stand with Baela and Rhaena on the sun-warmed terrace overlooking the cliffs, the three of you bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Your laughter rings out, clear and melodic, mingling with the cries of the gulls that circle above.
Jacaerys Velaryon watches from a distance, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions. He knows he should not be here, should not be watching you so closely, but he cannot help himself. You, his sister, the only daughter of Rhaenyra, have been a constant presence in his life, a source of both comfort and confusion. His eyes trace the silver streaks in your hair, a reminder of your Targaryen blood, mingling with the deep brown inherited from your true father, though only you, he, and his mother know the truth.
He remembers when you were children, how you would chase each other through the halls of the Red Keep, your laughter infectious, your bond inseparable. He had always been protective of you, even when you didn’t need it. You were fierce, a dragon through and through, and yet, as you stand now with Baela and Rhaena, there is a softness to you, a grace that makes his breath catch in his throat.
"Do you remember the first time we flew together?" Baela’s voice pulls him from his thoughts. She grins at you, her violet eyes bright with the memory.
"Of course," you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. "I thought Jace would never let me ride my own dragon, he was so worried."
Jace feels a pang at your words, both pride and regret mingling in his chest. He had always been overly cautious with you, more so than with Luke or Joffrey. Perhaps he had always known, even then, that his feelings for you were not entirely brotherly.
Rhaena giggles, leaning in closer to you. "He’s always been that way, hasn’t he? Always the protector, always looking after you."
You shrug, though the warmth in your eyes betrays your affection. "He cares. That’s just how he is."
Jace clenches his fists at his sides, torn between the pride that swells in him at your words and the guilt that gnaws at him for the thoughts he cannot seem to banish. He knows it is wrong—this desire that burns in him like dragonfire—but it is also undeniably a part of him, a flame that refuses to be extinguished.
Take what is yours. The words echo in his mind, a voice that is both his own and something darker, something ancient. The blood of the dragon runs hot in his veins, urging him to act, to claim what he believes is his by right. You are his sister, yes, but you are also so much more. You are the embodiment of everything he has ever wanted, ever desired.
You turn then, as if sensing his gaze, and your eyes meet his. For a moment, the world seems to stop. The laughter of Baela and Rhaena fades into the background, the sound of the waves dulls, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heart.
"Jace," you call out, your voice breaking the spell. "Come join us!"
There is no hesitation in your invitation, no hint that you are aware of the storm raging inside him. You are just his sister, inviting him to share in the simple joy of the evening, oblivious to the battle he fights within.
He forces a smile, masking the turmoil beneath, and steps forward. "I was just enjoying the view," he says, his voice betraying nothing.
Rhaena giggles again, nudging Baela. "See, I told you he’s always watching over her."
Baela laughs, a sound like the tinkling of bells. "It’s because he’s a good brother."
The words cut deeper than they should, a cruel reminder of the line he cannot cross. He wants to be a good brother, he truly does. But the blood of the dragon does not care for such boundaries. The blood of the dragon demands more.
As he approaches, you smile up at him, that same smile that has always had the power to calm him, to soothe the fire within. But today, it only stokes the flames higher.
"Are you alright?" you ask softly, your eyes searching his face for something he cannot give.
He nods, the lie slipping easily from his lips. "Of course. Just… thinking."
You raise an eyebrow, a knowing look passing over your face. "You think too much, Jace. You always have."
He laughs, though it is a strained sound. "Someone has to, with you lot always running headlong into trouble."
Baela snorts. "As if you don’t love it."
He shrugs, unable to deny it. "Perhaps."
You laugh then, a sound so pure and unburdened that it twists something deep in his chest. How can you be so carefree, so unaware of the darkness that haunts him?
The conversation drifts to other things—plans for the next dragonride, the latest antics of your younger brothers—but Jace finds it hard to focus. His eyes keep returning to you, to the way the setting sun catches in your hair, to the way your eyes sparkle when you laugh. Every moment is a battle, every word a reminder of what he can never have.
Take what is yours. The voice whispers again, insistent, relentless.
He pushes it down, burying it beneath layers of duty, of honor, of love for his family. But it is there, always there, a part of him that he can never truly silence.
As the sun dips below the horizon, casting the world in shades of orange and gold, you turn to him once more, your expression soft, almost tender.
"Thank you, Jace," you say quietly.
He frowns, unsure of what you mean. "For what?"
You smile, and it is a smile that breaks him, because it is so full of warmth, of trust, of love. "For always being there. For always watching over me."
He swallows hard, forcing down the lump in his throat. "Always," he promises, and it is both a vow and a curse.
You reach out, your hand brushing against his arm, and the simple touch sends a shock through him, setting his nerves alight. For a moment, he forgets himself, forgets everything but you.
But then Baela speaks up, her voice pulling him back to reality. "We should head inside. It’s getting late."
You nod, but your eyes linger on his for a moment longer, as if searching for something, something you cannot name.
Jace watches as you turn away, following Baela and Rhaena back into the castle, your laughter fading into the evening air. He stays behind, his heart a tumult of emotion, his mind a battlefield.
He knows what he feels is wrong. He knows that he should push these thoughts away, should bury them deep where they can never see the light of day. But he also knows that the blood of the dragon is not so easily denied.
As the stars begin to twinkle in the darkening sky, Jace makes a silent vow to himself. He will protect you, he will care for you, as a brother should. But he will also fight this desire, this hunger that threatens to consume him. He will not let it destroy him, or you.
But deep down, he knows that it will be difficult.
And as he watches the last light of day fade into night, he wonders if it ever truly will be.
Months have passed since that evening on the terrace, and yet the fire within Jacaerys Velaryon has not dimmed. If anything, it has only grown stronger, a persistent heat that simmers beneath the surface, threatening to consume him at every turn. He has thrown himself into his duties, into training and studies, hoping that the rigor will burn away these unwanted desires. But nothing works. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot escape the pull you have on him.
Today, he finds himself wandering through the halls of Dragonstone, his mind restless, his heart unsettled. The castle is quiet, the stillness only amplifying his thoughts. His feet carry him to the library, a place he knows you often retreat to when you seek solace or simply a moment of peace. He tells himself it is a coincidence, that he has come here to study, to distract himself with books and knowledge. But deep down, he knows the truth.
As he enters the library, the scent of aged parchment and ink greets him, a familiar comfort. He pauses in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room until they find you, seated near the window, the light of the midday sun casting a soft glow around you. You are engrossed in a book, your silver-streaked hair falling over your face, your expression serene. The sight of you, so peaceful and unguarded, sends a wave of warmth through him, and before he can stop himself, he is walking towards you.
You look up as he approaches, a smile tugging at your lips. "Jace," you greet him, your voice soft and welcoming. "What brings you here?"
He hesitates, his mind racing for an excuse. "I thought I might find you here," he admits, the words tumbling out before he can catch them. "I wanted to see if you needed any help with your studies."
You raise an eyebrow, a playful glint in your eyes. "Since when do you offer to help with my studies?"
He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. "I just thought... we haven't spent much time together lately. I miss it."
Your expression softens at his words, and you close the book in your hands, setting it aside. "I’ve missed it too," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.
He can feel the tension between you, a charged energy that crackles in the air. The pull is stronger now, a magnetic force that draws him closer, and before he knows it, he is sitting beside you, his body instinctively leaning towards yours.
"What are you reading?" he asks, his voice rougher than he intended.
You glance at the book, then back at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "A history of Old Valyria. I’ve always been fascinated by our ancestors, by the dragons and the blood magic they wielded."
"Of course," he murmurs, though he hardly registers the words. He is too focused on the way your hand rests so close to his, the way your eyes seem to shimmer in the light. "Our blood is strong, isn’t it? The blood of the dragon."
You nod, your gaze holding his. "It is. It’s what makes us who we are."
The words resonate deep within him, a reminder of the truth he has tried so hard to ignore. The blood of the dragon is what binds you together, but it is also what drives him to the brink of madness. The fire that burns in his veins is not just a curse, but a part of him, a part of you. And he is no longer sure if he can continue to fight it.
"I wanted to ask you something," you say suddenly, breaking the silence that has settled between you.
He blinks, trying to focus. "What is it?"
You hesitate for a moment, as if gathering your thoughts. "I was wondering if you could help me with my dragon training. Grey Ghost is so much more... spirited than he used to be, and I thought maybe you could help me understand him better."
Jace swallows hard, the thought of spending more time with you, alone and away from prying eyes, sending a thrill through him. But it is also dangerous, more dangerous than anything he has faced before. Still, he finds himself nodding. "Of course. I’d be glad to help."
You smile, a smile that warms him from the inside out, and he knows he is lost. He cannot deny you, cannot deny himself any longer. The pull is too strong, the fire too fierce. And as you rise to your feet, gesturing for him to follow, he feels that pull tighten, like a chain around his heart, binding him to you.
The two of you walk side by side through the corridors of Dragonstone, the silence between you comfortable, yet charged with an unspoken tension. Your presence is a balm to him, calming and yet igniting something deep within, something he can no longer ignore. Every brush of your arm against his, every glance in his direction, fans the flames higher, until he feels as though he might burst from the sheer force of it.
When you reach the courtyard where the dragons are kept, you turn to him, your eyes bright with excitement. "Let’s start with the basics," you say, your voice full of eagerness. "You’ve always been better at this than I am."
Jace shakes his head, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. "It’s not about being better," he says, trying to keep his voice steady. "It’s about understanding them, forming a bond with them."
You nod, your attention fully on him now, and he feels a surge of pride at the trust you place in him. "I know," you say softly. "And I trust you to help me."
The words strike him like a blow, the weight of your trust almost too much to bear. He wants to be worthy of it, to be the brother you believe him to be. But he also wants more, so much more, and it terrifies him.
As you step closer to him, your arm brushing against his, he feels that pull again, stronger than ever. He knows he should move away, put some distance between you, but he cannot bring himself to do it. Instead, he finds himself leaning in, his body drawn to yours like a moth to flame.
"You know," you say, your voice barely above a whisper, "I’ve always felt safest when I’m with you."
The confession catches him off guard, and he looks down at you, his heart pounding in his chest. "Why?"
You smile up at him, a gentle, almost shy smile. "Because you’ve always been there for me, Jace. No matter what."
His breath catches in his throat, the intensity of the moment almost too much to bear. The pull between you is undeniable now, a force of nature that neither of you can resist. And as you stand there, so close that he can feel the warmth of your breath on his skin, he knows that he is about to cross a line that he can never return from.
But before he can act, before he can make the decision that will change everything, you reach out and take his hand in yours, your fingers curling around his. The simple touch sends a jolt of electricity through him, and he is lost, completely and utterly lost.
"Jace," you whisper, your voice trembling with something unspoken.
He looks down at you, his heart in his throat, and he knows that this is it. This is the moment he has been dreading, the moment he has been craving. The pull between you is too strong, the fire too fierce, and he knows that there is no going back.
But then, as if sensing the turmoil within him, you give his hand a gentle squeeze, your eyes full of warmth and understanding. "Thank you," you say, your voice soft and sincere. "For always being there."
And just like that, the moment passes. The tension between you eases, and you step back, releasing his hand. The pull is still there, still strong, but it is no longer overwhelming. For now, it is enough to simply be with you, to feel your presence beside him, to know that you trust him.
As you turn your attention back to the dragons, Jace takes a deep breath, steadying himself. The battle within him is far from over, but for now, he has won a small victory. He has resisted the pull, resisted the fire. But he knows it is only a matter of time before the dragon within him demands more.
And when that time comes, he is not sure if he will be able to resist.
The winds howl around the jagged peaks of Dragonmont, the volcanic heart of Dragonstone. The sky above is dark, thick clouds swirling in ominous patterns, but here, beneath the shelter of the mountain, you and Jacaerys find solace in the company of your dragons. Vermax and Grey Ghost, their massive forms partially obscured by the mist that clings to the rocky terrain, rest quietly nearby, their watchful eyes ever alert.
The air between you and Jace is charged, as it has been for days now. Since the arrival of the Dragonseeds and the beginning of the Red Sowing, there has been an unspoken tension, a shared anxiety that neither of you has fully voiced. Today, it seems, that silence is about to be broken.
Jace paces before you, his brow furrowed, his steps uneven. "I can’t help but worry," he finally says, his voice low, almost a growl. "Mother’s decision to let these Dragonseeds try to claim the dragons… it could destroy everything. The only thing that sets us apart, that makes us legitimate in the eyes of the realm, is our bond with the dragons. What happens if anyone can do it? What happens if they succeed?"
You watch him, feeling the weight of his concern settle over you like a heavy cloak. You understand his fear; it echoes within you as well. "They are Targaryen bastards, Jace," you say softly, trying to find the right words. "The blood of the dragon runs in their veins, even if the world doesn’t see them as we are seen. But you are right to be cautious. We cannot control what might happen if they succeed. But we can control how we respond."
He stops pacing, turning to face you fully. His dark eyes are intense, filled with worry and something deeper, something you’ve seen growing there in recent days. "What if it shatters everything? What if the realm no longer sees us as the rightful heirs? If they can claim dragons, what does that mean for us?"
You rise from your seat on a smooth outcropping of rock, moving closer to him, your steps slow and deliberate. You can feel the warmth of the dragons nearby, the heat from the mountain beneath your feet, but most of all, you feel the heat radiating from Jace, a fire that matches your own.
"We are more than our dragons," you say, your voice steady. "We are the blood of the dragon, yes, but we are also our mother’s children, the heirs of House Targaryen. That will not change, no matter what happens with the Dragonseeds."
Jace’s gaze softens as he looks at you, the storm in his eyes momentarily easing. "You always know what to say," he murmurs, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But I’m still afraid. Afraid of what this means for us, for our family."
You reach out, your hand finding his, and the contact sends a spark through you both. "Then we face it together," you say firmly, your fingers tightening around his. "Whatever comes, we face it together, as we always have."
For a moment, there is only silence between you, the kind of silence that speaks louder than words. The dragons are quiet too, their presence a comforting weight in the background. Jace’s thumb brushes over your knuckles, and the simple touch sends a shiver down your spine, the connection between you deepening with each passing second.
Without thinking, you step closer, and suddenly the space between you is gone. You can feel his breath on your skin, warm and unsteady, and the intensity in his eyes is almost too much to bear. The pull between you is stronger than ever, an undeniable force that you can no longer resist.
"Jace," you whisper, your voice trembling with something unspoken, something that has been building for so long.
He doesn’t reply, at least not with words. Instead, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that is both hesitant and eager, as if he is afraid you might pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you kiss him back, your hands moving to cup his face, pulling him closer.
The kiss deepens, all the pent-up emotions of the past weeks, months, perhaps even years, pouring out in that single moment. It is as if the fire that has always burned between you has finally found release, and there is no stopping it now.Jace’s hands find their way to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the desperation in his touch, the need that mirrors your own. "I’ve wanted this for so long," he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough with desire.
"So have I," you admit, the words coming out in a breathless rush. "Jace, I—"
He silences you with another kiss, more urgent this time, and you can feel his hands moving to the fastenings of your attire. There is a moment of hesitation, a final chance to turn back, but neither of you takes it. Instead, you help him, your fingers trembling as they work to undo his clothing as well.
The air is cool against your skin as your garments fall away, but you hardly notice. All you can focus on is Jace, on the way his hands move over your body, on the way he looks at you as if you are the only thing that matters in the world. And perhaps, in this moment, you are.
He guides you down onto the warm rock, his movements careful, almost reverent. The heat from the mountain seeps into your skin, mixing with the heat of his touch, and you feel yourself trembling, not from fear, but from anticipation.When he finally joins with you, the pain is brief, a sharp sting that quickly fades, leaving only the overwhelming sensation of being completely and utterly connected to him. Jace pauses, his eyes searching yours, as if waiting for your permission to continue.
You nod, your voice caught in your throat, but the look in your eyes says everything. "Please," you whisper, and that is all it takes.
He begins to move, slow at first, almost tentative, but as the moments pass, the hesitation fades, replaced by a growing urgency, a passion that neither of you can control. You cling to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, urging him on, meeting his every movement with your own.
The world around you fades, the sounds of the dragons, the wind, the distant roar of the sea, all becoming nothing more than a distant echo. There is only Jace, only the fire that burns between you, the flames that consume you both, driving you higher and higher until you feel as though you might burst from the sheer intensity of it.
Just as you reach the peak of your union, lost in the sensation of him, you hear a sound, the soft crunch of footsteps on the volcanic rock. Your eyes snap open, and you see him—Ulf the White, one of the Dragonseeds, standing a short distance away, his expression one of surprise and amusement.
Jace’s movements slow as he becomes aware of the intruder, but he doesn’t stop, his body still pressed intimately against yours. His eyes narrow, and you can feel the tension in him, the protective instinct that flares up at the sight of another man watching you in such a vulnerable moment.
Ulf’s smirk widens as he recognizes both of you, his voice carrying an easy confidence as he speaks. "Well, well, what do we have here? Prince Jacaerys and his fair sister, indulging in some… private time, I see."
Jace doesn’t respond immediately, his gaze locked on Ulf, his body shielding yours from view. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, dangerous. "You will leave now, Ulf. And you will speak of this to no one."
Ulf’s amusement doesn’t fade. "And if I don’t? I imagine this little secret could be worth quite a bit."
Jace’s expression hardens, the dragon within him rising to the surface. "I have another proposition for you. Leave now and never speak of this, or tell someone… and Vermax will feast on your bones."
The threat hangs in the air, thick with the promise of violence. Ulf’s smile falters, the realization of Jace’s seriousness sinking in. He glances at the dragons, both Vermax and Grey Ghost now fully alert, their eyes locked on him, and he takes an involuntary step back.
"Fine," Ulf mutters, the bravado gone from his voice. "Your secret’s safe with me, Prince Jacaerys. I was never here." With that, he turns and hurries away, casting one last nervous glance at the dragons before disappearing into the mist.
Jace watches him go, his body still tense, but as the danger passes, his attention shifts back to you, his focus returning to the moment you had both been lost in. The fire that had momentarily cooled begins to burn again, his hands finding yours, his gaze intense.
"I will marry you," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "In the traditions of our ancestors, in the ways of Old Valyria. You are mine, and I am yours, for now and forever."
The words send a shiver through you, the weight of them, the promise in them, filling you with a sense of certainty, of belonging. You nod, your voice trembling as you respond. "Yes, Jace. Yes."
And as he moves within you once more, the world around you falls away, leaving only the two of you, bound together by the fire of your blood.
#house of the dragon#hotd reader insert#hotd x reader#hotd x y/n#hotd x female reader#hotd x you#jacerys velaryon#jace x y/n#jace x you#jace x reader#jacerys x reader#jacaerys x y/n#jacaerys x you#jacaerys x reader
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wahhhh reading that hurts me 😭 could you please write a part 2 where they all find out that it was bill who possessed reader?
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Tag list: @babypeapoddd @i-am-tiredd @sly-thou-pookie @x-seyaa @sweetlumpkinseedlin @kawaii1369 @roo024 @lightmaren
Part 1 right here
‘What?’ Ford asked.
Bill cackled. ‘For someone as smart as you sixer, you sure are stupid as not to notice the obvious signs of whenever I’m possessing someone. I mean out of everyone you should know better.’
Ford clenches his jaw. All this time he had thought you had betrayed him when in actually you had been loyal to him and his family, up until he and his brother ostracised you even more then you already were for the past thirty years. He made you feel like shit, and he could tell that Stanley felt the same amount of guilt as he clenched his fists in silent anger; Ford then levels Bill with a glare. ‘You possessed y/n! My assistant!’ He roared at his once muse.
Bill only chuckles. ‘Correction!WAS your assistant Stanford! And pushed you through the portal whilst wearing the face is someone you cared for,’ Bill then gasps as he looked at the guilt ridden faces of the Pines Family and feeling the joy bubble up in his triangular body, the look of defeat and realisation was all too sweet, ‘Oh wait! Someone you once cared for before throwing them out like they were nothing to you, not once letting them the space to explain what had happened and how I tricked them into making a deal with me.’ He finished by pretending to wipe a tear from his one eye after cackling some more at the hilarity of the situation.
Humans loved to cause more problems within problems they didn’t fully handle properly as they stockpiled on top of each other, giving him the leeway to get what he wants without issue or confrontation from the pathetic family.
Possessing you during a brotherly squabble was perfect! Ford had cut all ties with him and decided to call upon his idiotic brother- as though that would’ve ever worked in any timeline- to help hide his work but when things didn’t go Ford’s way, they fought. You were trying to stop the fight and bill took advantage of that by claiming he could help you stop the fight, fat chance, he was going to make it worse and leave you to be his scapegoat! It was a brilliant plan to make up for multiple set backs thanks to Ford’s sudden realisation of his hermit tendencies, everything was out in place for the ultimate betrayal by the hands of Ford’s assistant; you!
Bill found that Tragedy was at its finest when the betrayal comes from someone you love and it did.
‘They didn’t-‘ Ford began.
‘Say anything?’ Bill interrupts, causing Ford and Stan to glare at him as the demon cackle as he got in close to their shared triangle shaped prison, staring them down with his one eye, unblinking. ‘You and your piece of shit brother over here didn’t even let them speak! Never less believe them when they were telling the truth!’ He roared, ‘and now you don’t know whether they’re even alive so that you can apologise to them!’
Mabel slams against the bars of hers and dippers prison. ‘they’re alive!’ She shouts and Bill now looks at her, amused.
‘How can you be so sure shooting star? For all you know they could be dead, cursing your grunkles names as they die with an unsatisfying end.’ Bill mocked her as she falters in her resolve, he was right, how could she be certain that you were alive when Gravity Falls was literally on fire and demons from another dimension were running amok? She couldn’t and that’s what upset her the most.
‘Because we know our great aunt/uncle better than you bill and we know they’re alive!’ Dipper pips up this time as he laid a reassuring hand on his sister’s shoulder, smiling at her as she smiled back at him in thanks for having her back. Bill looks at the twins, hating their optimism and hope that you were okay and decided to destroy this by reaching into thin air and producing a realistic illusion of your unmoving body before them.
‘Are you so sure now pine tree? They don’t look very much alive to me!’ Bill exclaims as Mabel, Dipper, Stan and Ford could only look up the body that Bill claimed was yours in disbelief and shock. This couldn’t be how it ended, could it? They still had to apologise to you after all for everything and make it up to you however you wished!
‘No, no this is some foul trick of yours bill!’ Ford screamed as he threw himself against the bars, forcing himself not to cry at the sight of your body while seething with rage and a need to avenge your supposed death. ‘You sick son of a bitch!’ Stanley joined in as he felt even more useless than ever, he felt the most guilt out of everyone as his eyes seemed to refused to move from your supposed body. You couldn’t be dead, he refused to believe such bullshit lies, you were still alive and fighting with the rest of them! He knew it, deep down in his heart he knew it to be true!
‘No.’ Mabel cried as she tried to reach out to you as Dipper held her while silently crying himself, vowing to take down bill now more than ever as he tugged his hat down to cover his eyes. You were the most encouraging person he’s ever met and now you were gone, you asked him and Mabel to trust you when contemplating to stay with Stan, and they did believe and they never regretted doing so because you were right! You were always right and yet in the end you died thinking they hated you more than anything; which wasn’t true! Far from it and now…now they can’t make it up to you, they had lost their chance.
Bill had won over the pines family once again.
#gravity falls x reader#gravity falls imagine#gravity falls imagines#gravity falls#ford pines x you#ford pines imagines#ford pines imagine#ford pines x reader#stanford pines x you#stanford pines imagines#stanford pines imagine#stanford pines x reader#stan pines x you#stanley pines imagines#stanley pines imagine#stan pines imagines#stan pines imagine#stanley pines x reader#stan pines x reader#stanley pines x you#posession series
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CAN YOU PLEASE DO SOMETHING WITH OLDER BROTHER DAMIAN WAHNE?? LIKE 11 ISH YEAR OLD READER?? Reader is also an ex child weapon. Just a silent cutie pie. I just wanna see Damian spoiling them. Or something with like reader not following his orders and telling Damian to go away and does reckless stuff that Damian did when he was younger and his older siblings are just laughing at the irony
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Brotherly Love
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Note: Sorry again for the wait! but two in one day woo.
Warnings: Just fluffy
Word Count: 800.
ALSO THIS IS MY 100TH FIC 🎉🎉
⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧
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“If you walk out that door I swear to God-” Damian curses as you slink out of the door of the batcave. He had explicitly told you that he didn’t want you going on this mission because he had deemed it ‘too dangerous’ as soon as Bruce gave the details. For a boy who claimed he ‘didn’t give a shit’ he was rather protective. Of course, being the highly trained, and rather confident 11 year old you are (which basically meant you were an adult) you had decided that you weren’t going to listen to him. With a sly smirk, you slipped out of the door. “God dammit!”
Damian kicks the wheely chair beside him. It slides across the room. And then there’s laughter.
It was Jason, geared up in his suit, minus the signature hood. He was leaning against the wall, an amused smirk on his face.
“Finally getting a taste of your own medicine, huh Demon Spawn?”
“What?” Damian half snapped, his temper wearing thin as he spun around to face his brother.
This made Jason’s grin widen. “Don’t act as if you weren’t exactly the same.”
Damian glowered. “That’s different.”
Jason just raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”
“....shut up. Where are you going anyway?” Damian nods towards Jason’s suit.
“Someone has to go and get them. And it certainly won't be you.”
~
“Hi Dami.” You smiled as you sat yourself beside him on the couch. He was still in a grump, grumbling about your excursion. Jason had gone to find you, but instead of bringing you home, he let you finish the mission. This royally pissed Damian off, and he was almost 100% certain that Jason had done it just to spite him. But as much as he wanted to, Damian just couldn’t stay mad at you. Especially when you looked up at him with those bright and mischievous eyes. You very much reminded your other siblings of Damian when he was your age. Though of course, now he would claim he was all grown up and always has been. And, even though Damian wished he could keep holding his grudge against you, his face couldn't help but melt.
“Hey, kiddo.” he greeted, looking down at you curiously.
“What are you doing?” You ask. You had always been fond of your older brothers, but you had an especially soft spot for Damian, as he did for you.
Damian held up the book that he was half reading, but then gestured to the TV that he kept getting distracted by. “I don’t even know why I bothered trying to be honest.”
“Oh.” You acknowledged before reaching forwards to pick up the video game controllers. You raised an eyebrow and held one out for him to take. He snatched it up and turned it on. Damian was very clearly competitive, however he let you win the first few rounds before he decided he had had enough and wanted to take all of the glory for himself.
At some point, the two of you deemed it time for a break. It didn’t last long, but it gave the two of you long enough to stretch your legs. When you returned, Damian was already back on the couch. On the coffee table he had placed two steaming mugs of hot cocoa, topped with cream and marshmallows. He had also haphazardly placed a bunch of crisps in a bowl and had collected an extensive array of snacks that he had chucked onto the table too.
You raised an eyebrow, looking curiously at him.
“What?”
“You got snacks.”
“Yeah….well you looked hungry.”
Your face melted at Damian’s tenderness. Damian rolled his eyes as you took a sip of the hot chocolate, getting whipped cream on your face. He chuckled and gestured for you to wipe it away. You grinned up at him again.
“Thank you, Dami.” you beamed, nudging his side affectionately.
“Yeah, well. Don’t get used to it.” He grumbled, unable to hide the sliver of a smile creeping up onto his face.
The two of you eventually fall asleep, still in front of the TV and half gripping the controllers as the game idles on without you. It’s Dick who pokes his head around the door to see what the noise is. He is surprised to see you with your head on Damian’s shoulder as the two of you snooze. With a soft smile, he turns off the TV and places a blanket over the two of you. But not before snapping a quick picture of the two of you which he would definitely use to wind up Damian some point in the not too distant future.
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BATFAM TAGS
@hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
#batfam x reader#batfamily x reader#batfamily x sister reader#batfamily x brother reader#damian wayne#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne x sister reader#damian wayne x brother reader#batfam x sibling reader#damian wayne x little sister reader#robin#robin x reader#jason todd#jason todd x reader#red hood#red hood x reader#dick grayson#dick grayson x reader#nightwing#nightwing x reader#tim drake#red robin#dc#dc x reader#fluff
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DP x DC AU: Tim had heard the phrase 'The wrong twin made it home' a number of times in his life, his parents were always very upfront about how the felt towards him. But... 'made it home' doesn't indicate death, does it? ...Tim ends up taking Danny's place by Sam's side in front of Congress to lobby the end of the Anti-Ecto Acts.
...
Tim has been up for hours passed when he told Alfred he would be resting and he's wrapped up his case files into neat little bows to deliver to Babs and the GCPD/Lawyers to do their jobs. Damian had made a comment earlier in their patrol that night about Tim being the wrong sibling to make it to his rescue and... and it got him thinking about that phrase. His parents were negligent with him, certainly, but they were always very clear about how he stood in their eyes. Praise and criticism were the two options, and very strictly limited passes of 'I love yous' that faded as he got older.
He's run his DNA before in the national databases- it was critical for maintaining his Alias' that multiple people didn't flag- but he's never searched in records before. About his twin. About the one who didn't make it home.
And its definitely the lack of sleep, and definitely the lack of brotherly affection he feels these days, but Tim just can't close the door until he's seen a death certificate. He's hacked Gotham General Hospital a million times for work, but doing it for his own gain feels wrong some how and he works with extreme caution. He finds his own birth certificate and... One Theodore Daniel Drake.
Tim snorts with a short ha, pretentious name alert and goes on to find not a single certificate of death or medical record of atypia. Oh no, what he finds is adoption paperwork meant to be closed to all wondering eyes and one Daniel James Fenton leaving the hospital instead. Tim blinks a few times, retraces his steps and then sure enough, learns for a second time that his TWIN was still alive.
Finding the Fentons was easy enough, their Lab address on all of their patents was seemingly also their home address. Danny had a much better hidden internet presence, it was good cybersecurity he'd have to praise him, but Tim had been trained better. Getting into his brother's files... Raised a number of new questions. Why was he compiling evidence against the government? What the fuck was he doing analyzing policy? Why did he have 'rogue' files???
Then Tim hacks into Danny's phone (he's learned at this point that Daniel was a no-go) and sees the conversations between his twin and his twin's best friends.
Sam Manson has an appointment with a Senator to Lobby for the end of the Anti-Ecto Acts. She wants Danny to join her, demonstrate something Tim can't determine, but he's refusing to leave and let his adoptive parents have even a moment to develop a new weapon without him there to destroy it. Someone called CW warned him about changes coming his way or something cryptic. Tim learns a lot from their back and forth, but stops reading once it gets to their personal squabbles.
Tim gets the meeting details and forwards it to Tam- If Danny can't make it... Tim will. And if Tim can't demonstrate whatever Danny was going to, it would at least help to throw around his name.
Tim writes an email to Danny- It's meant to go out after the lobbying appointment- and it explains that Tim found out about him and wants to connect if Danny does, and if Danny doesn't he at least wants to get him set up with his half of the Drake family inheritance. He includes a few personal facts, including that he too ended up adopted in life and had siblings, that he helped run a company and took on the world too soon. It takes a lot out of Tim to be so candid- but he doesn't want Danny to be too blindsided by the Waynes. He attaches a family photo with the label "you'll be able to tell which one is me'.
...
Sam is tapping her stupid, uncomfortable heels waiting for these dumbass, elderly politicians to get their shit together so she can speak. Sam was resourceful and surprisingly, the second she took on politics as a way to waste the family money, her mother Pamela was all for it. She's wanting Sam to run for president now... At least she doesn't complain when Sam organizes protests.
The door behind her opens, and while she knows its not going to be Danny behind her, a girl can feel a bit crushed. She really thought he would be behind her today, but Danny was being weird about this whole thing. Clockwork had him spooked about something changing today, and Danny wanted to be in Amity Park in case it was another Pariah situation or something. His parents had been on edge lately too...
"Sorry, I'm not late am I?" A voice asks and it's just so close but not- Sam turns her head to see Danny in a nice suit with long hair and eyebags way darker than she'd seen on him in a while. This... Wasn't Danny. She blinks, and then something in her anxiously decides that the universe is fucking with her and she will be fighting back.
"Everyone is late." She glares at him, appraising his every move. The woman behind him is typing dedicatedly on her tablet and the man himself looks like he might fall over while he shuffles his files in hand.
"Well, then I'm on time. My name is Tim Drake, I'm here to help your cause in getting the Anti-Ecto acts repealed and the parties responsible for it apprehended."
"Tim Drake? As in-"
"As in Co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises. And I've done a lot of research, so I hope you'll let me play a supportive role while you speak."
"There's no way you've been able to research if you've been out of Amity, The whole city is under a media blackout." Sam's glare looks like it could cut him.
"Not to brag, but that sort of thing doesn't slow me down these days. I've made physical copies of the things they're most likely to delete and I've sent everything to the Justice League, who in turn are sending it to the Lantern Corps." He states matter-of-factly and Sam finally stops being angry at the world to just be... stumped. What the hell was going on?
"How did you... Why?"
"Tam, tell Ms. Manson how passionate I am about human rights?" The guy sounds anxious, the woman rolls her eyes and says "Very." without stopping her typing.
The doors open and Sam has only a moment to decide that Tim can join her... He proves himself to be an asset, and his name alone gets them further than she had anticipated getting today.
....
Danny is watching Sam walk into the space via C-span, gasping when his own likeness follows behind her. What the fuck???
He can barely drag his eyes away as the clone (?) introduces himself as Tim Drake and proceeds to rip them into shreds for delaying Sam Manson of all people. Danny is transfixed and Tucker is blowing up his phone.
"DUDE ARE YOU SEEING THIS?" Tucker's voice loudly calls out the second danny blindly answers.
"Dude, I just, I don't even know? He cant be a clone right? But he's gotta be?" Danny hypothesizes.
"Nah dude, there's like, a whole lifetime of media presence for Tim Drake since he was like, tiny. This is so weird he looks just like you..."
"This is so weird." Danny dumbly agrees because he can't think of anything else to say.
Sam finishes her points, Tim submits the evidence to the court and they leave. Danny's phone pings with an email notification.
"Danny my guy, you should check that, Sam isn't responding yet. Her phone is probably still off."
He follows Tucker's advise and opening his email... Is a new message from Tim Drake.
"...I don't know what the fuck is going on?" Danny continues to say, and Tucker asks him just to read it out loud, "It's just... Apparently I am both adopted and a twin?"
"...My guy." Tucker sounds just as much at a loss.
...
Sam calls them both after Tim Drake is rushed away by his PA Tam (who she found herself admiring more and more), and is relieved when they dont immediately answer by screaming.
"So Danny, Tucker, you guys are traveling with me next weekend." Sam deadpans.
"Apparently shit gets twilight-zone level weird anytime you leave Amity!" Tucker exclaims.
"...What's next weekend?" Danny asks, hesitation in his voice.
"Your twin invited us, well, mostly you, to a Wayne Family Brunch. We're going cause those assholes have money and political influence, you're going because we all probably need to know what the fuck is going on with that guy."
#dcxdp#dpxdc#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny phantom#dc crossover#dp crossover#long post#tim and danny are twins#twins au#ehehehe could go in so many directions
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Control: The Strange Dynamics of Andy and Leyley or
The Incest End Is Not The Fucking Bad End, Stop Coping
EDIT:
Hey guys! This post is blowing the fuck up, but this was my first essay on this game, and I think I've had many more insightful things to say since then. Here's a link to a masterpost with all of my essays, which I'd definitely suggest reading after this one:
Anyways, without further adieu...
I heard a lot about this game going in. I knew the general story beats and the funny haha incest memes. I knew it was about a toxic codependent relationship where Ashley, the sister, acted like your standard overly-controlling person who used various abuse techniques to keep someone in line. I expected Ashley to be a yandere-type character where she was borderline psychotic, irrational, and had a skewed perception of reality. I expected her to be a crazy bitch, and I love me some crazy bitches.
But then I actually played through the game. ...That is not what I got.
The game advertises Andrew as a doormat extraordinaire who is strung along by his Very Not Good sister and has no agency of his own' that he's just a henpecked abuse victim. But in practice, that doesn't seem to be the case. One of their first exchanges that in the story is when the occultist played his music and Ashley wanted them to check it out. He says 'no', sure, but then he smirks and says 'but I'll come along if you do.'
That is not the dialogue of someone who has no will of their own, that's the dialogue of someone who willingly gives up their own agency.
This is not, on its own, a sign of anything out of the ordinary. What caught my attention with it, though, is how it flew in the face of the common narrative surrounding their relationship dynamic. But that's not the first time I noticed it, it's just the first time, in retrospect, that their actual dynamic begins to show. The first time I personally noticed it is in the choking scene.
There are a lot of ways to view this situation. But my own reading? This was not a crime of passion. This was not him trying to break free. This is him doing something he's thought about for a while. This is premeditated. In this scene, Andrew is done playing along with Ashley's shit. In this scene, I firmly believe Ashley is the victim.
Ashley is the more openly abusive of the two who seeks to do whatever she can to trap Andrew so he'll never leave her. That much is clear. But Andrew-
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/06ce171664bf637c693af9403c35445b/86d933adee21aab9-3e/s540x810/9c0a645694cf6537d231714baf65521a2a971bfd.jpg)
-clearly has these same tendencies. He says this shortly after Ashley mentions putting her name up on a call girl's wall for money. There's protective brotherly instincts, and then there's this. This is not something you'd threaten a sister with, this is something that a man would threaten his wife with, which is directly brought attention to in the story.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e17bb13f7b3b686c9f3d1b8a4fe58fbb/86d933adee21aab9-8d/s540x810/dd965ba775a9e053f04b9941e180c03dc96e962e.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/421dd9a4b64ef9778dee923bf0ada369/86d933adee21aab9-cb/s540x810/7233a12982526482c21d5b98e7d56b6b2accc6f3.jpg)
(hey look he accepts the framing of it being WIFE beating at face value, and says Ashley is the only one who makes him like that! HMMMMMMMMMM WONDER WHAT THAT IMPLIES???)
It also implies that this is not the first time physical force has been threatened! I mean, that much is obvious, because of the choking scene that happened before, but I more mean that this implies that Andrew either threatening or utilizing physical force is an established pattern of behavior. However, the Decay route implies that she never thought Andy would kill her (but Andrew would) which can either be for or against depending on one's perspective, so I don't hold to the idea that it's an established pattern too strongly.
Okay, so. Andrew has some controlling and possessive tendencies too. So what? Their relationship is codependent. It's advertised as such. What of it?
Well first of all, it pretty much blows the lid off of the idea that Ashley is the sole perpetrator of abuse in their relationship. I've seen a lot of people view Andrew's behavior as justified retaliation against abuse, but frankly, I don't believe that him threatening to strangle Ashley for violating boundaries by trying to hold him accountable for his actions (given the strangulation part happens after she brought up Nina's death and how Andrew was ultimately responsible) is justified. And I ESPECIALLY don't believe that him threatening to backhand Ashley for her transactional attitude towards sex is justified in ANY circumstance.
EDIT: This part was edited in from the original post for the sake of readability so they don't have to see the reblogs to see the updated version! This post gained more traction than I was expecting!
…But perhaps even more telling is what she DOESN'T do.
Pushing someone's boundaries until they lash out is a pretty common tactic in abusive relationships. It's easy to see why, too: It justifies prior behavior and paints them in a negative light to others. This can be an important aspect of using DARVO (deny, attack, and reverse victim and offender) against someone, although the two ideas aren't necessarily linked.
It's pretty easy to argue that this is what Ashley does, but if you look at the one time her boundary pushing DID go too far, when Andrew lashes out with physical violence… she doesn't do that. She doesn't blame him. She doesn't paint herself as the victim. She doesn't even try to give a reason as to why she shouldn't be killed outside of the comfort she gives him. Why is this notable?
Because the mom does, in fact, engage in what could be considered DARVO against Ashley:
(i will elaborate more on this screenshot in particular below)
Ashley is directly compared to Mrs. Graves by Andrew, and yet she crucially displays none of the habits that Mrs. Graves does. Mrs. Graves lays the blame on Ashley, but Ashley doesn't lay the blame on Andrew. Mrs. Graves tends to paint herself as the victim of Ashley, but Ashley does no such thing to Andrew. The mom denies her culpability at every turn; Ashley doesn't. Ashley tries to hold Andrew accountable for his role in Nina's death, which could be considered a kind of DARVO. But she never denies that she had a role to play in it. She just mentions that he was the one who pulled the trigger. And he was.
(and the point was more that she DIDN'T engage in it when threatened with physical violence; the perfect chance to)
In Mrs. Graves' mind, she is the victim of either Ashley, or society as a whole. In Ashley's mind, she knows what she is, what she does, and what she's about. The only thing she's oblivious to- or doesn't acknowledge, at least- is the threat Andrew poses to her. In her mind, she's the bad guy. In Andrew's mind, Ashley is the bad guy. In official art, she is the bad guy:
And yet, in the game itself, Andrew is the one holding the cleaver. Not her. Hm.
Ashley is the world's most convenient scapegoat. She allows people to mask their own worst habits and pretend they're better people than they are. She accepts this role. She embraces it. She doesn't try to deny it. But when that mask slips, people lash out at her. Both Mrs. Graves and Andy (NOT Andrew, crucially) predicate much of their self-perception on being what she's not.
But they're the ones who enabled her to become like this, every step of the way.
And that's what blew my fucking mind, and made me question just who the victim really is. She was never given a chance to be normal, because other people relied on her NOT being normal.
By the end of my second playthrough, I felt worse for Ashley than I did for Andrew, and I still do.
So. What am I getting at? What does this show me about the relationship between Ashley and Andrew?
(I also wanted to point out that Andrew does engage in DARVO too but I didn't want to distract from the behavior of the mother. Unlike what Andrew does, it doesn't require someone to reassess the narrative they have towards the game in order to realize the implications of it, whereas it's pretty easy to justify Andrew's words as not qualifying as DARVO if you buy into the narrative that he's the sole victim and/or that Ashley is the main perpetrator of abuse. A friend of mine pointed out that it's a pretty key part of the push/pull dynamic they have, and I completely agree.
However, the direct comparisons to the behavior of the mother can't be ignored no matter your narrative, so I felt as if I needed to highlight that more.)
EDIT OVER
It shows me that their relationship is all about control.
Specifically, the push and pull of who controls who in any given situation.
Andrew weaponizes his incompetence. He always looks to lay the blame on Ashley. This is drawn attention to several times, and said explicitly in the Decay route.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5acf77751c863c7b9537182ad813cd19/86d933adee21aab9-24/s540x810/fca19c3ba0b15f30d192edce2298222ee7651a27.jpg)
He is always surrendering control to her, and yet he never HAS to. He could always just say no. He could always refuse. What are the consequences? Her being upset? Well, unfortunately, it's not that easy. That's not how abuse dynamics work. He probably feels like he has to, or rather, feels like there's no other option. That he's in too deep, and stuck with her no matter what. But personally, I think it's pretty clear from his willingness to surrender control to Ashley that he still feels like he has it at points, because the moment he feels like he's about to lose it, he either considers violence, even as a child-
(the actual scene of slicing her finger is pretty sus too with this reading in mind)
-or resorts to it, outright, in both the choking scene and the vision in the Decay ending... when Ashley doesn't have enough bullets to defend herself (this will be important later!).
SO WHAT POINT AM I TRYING TO MAKE??? AM I JUST MAKING ABUSE APOLOGIA (the answer may surprise you)?
No. I don't think so.
Ashley is obviously very bad. She's controlling and uses pretty textbook abuse and entrapment tactics on Andrew whereas everything he does to her is inference, with Ashley too daft to realize just how much danger she's in until the vision in the Decay ending spells it out for her- and I don't know if a true abuse dynamic allows for one to be completely unaware of the consequences of breaking free. She could just let go of her desire for control and Andrew would be a much happier person.
And that's the point, because so would she.
I bring up control because that push and pull- that desire for control over each other- is exactly what's tearing their relationship apart, and this effect most obviously manifests in the two endings of episode 2. In the Decay ending, Ashley either tries to exert control over Andrew due to a lack of trust, or Andrew allows his feelings of entrapment to truly take root in his mind and guide his actions. In the Decay ending, Andrew becomes a true doormat with no will of his own, allowing his feelings of bitterness and resentment to fester and grow, eventually resulting in their deaths.
In the Burial ending, Andrew does the exact opposite. He takes control of the situation and does exactly what Ashley would do without much of a fuss. This eventually culminates in THAT scene (assuming you take the Questionable route), where his facial expression alone speaks volumes:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a85ad8c5a0838acc26de906bb14ab062/86d933adee21aab9-64/s540x810/db87c8c1b6d68df037f46001b9b35e49c36066b7.jpg)
Look at how fucking confident this man is. This is not the face of someone who's unsure of himself; this is the face of someone who knows exactly what he wants and takes it. He is absolutely in control of this situation, and everyone is happier for it.
And what does Ashley have to do to get this ending?
Let's go back to Decay for a moment. If Ashley has bullets in her gun, she has control over the situation. She, at any point, could put an end to Andrew and survive. And yet, at the very end of it all, she could choose not to. She could choose to surrender control to Andrew, allowing herself to die. And that ending, I believe so much of his life and willpower will have decayed that there's nothing left for him to take control of, leaving him no choice- or rather, no use for the control he now has- but to die with her.
And in the Burial ending, she has to let him out of his cage before it's too late. She has to surrender control to him, and when she does-
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/21e4fb42c7be74a5d58a2042d6f2064b/86d933adee21aab9-3a/s540x810/f8455c23eb0edfd997125e4633bbaa1e4e57271b.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/69a9d8aca4b817dbf34ec5774bfa54fa/86d933adee21aab9-e5/s540x810/72c62db7ac042cddce734e64e7da71df125eac35.jpg)
-He will become everything she ever needed him to be.
It's all about her surrendering control, and it's all about him taking control. Because, no matter what, as long as that happens... the two of them will be together forever.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/9c6b9b9a4bb5207bc675ad764a29d0de/86d933adee21aab9-f7/s540x810/aa3186c19a658c8d5d754a4307aa04e6fbfb395c.jpg)
In life...
...or in death.
How romantic.
So no, the incest end is not the fucking bad end. They're going to be together forever in the end either way, so they might as well live through it.
#gaming#the coffin of andy and leyley#gravecest#ashley graves#andrew graves#someone help me i can't stop thinking about this fucking game
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Daryl Dixon Kissing Daydreams— A little look inside Daryl’s memories of kissing his favorite person in the world.
Details: Daryl Dixon x reader (no pronouns are used but there is one instance that I use the word princess), suggestive but overall, just some lovely sweetness! wc: 2k, slightly proofread— my apologies about any misspells, I just really want to get this out and get back to writing!!!
A/N: Let’s get back into things. ♡ I hope you’re all doing well. With love from writella. ♡
Daryl Dixon loves kissing.
He’d never admit it though— albeit that is a weird thing to admit out of nowhere— and he’s never said it out loud— albeit that is a weird thing to say out loud in most normal instances as well— but either way, he does. He really, really does.
Ironically, it’s his fifth favorite form of affection.
The first is acts of service. He doesn’t call it that though. He probably doesn’t even know the phrase. To him, it’s just being useful. Helping, or as he’d pronounce it, helpin’, or jus helpin’ awut.
This includes hunting to feed others, preparing food (even though he’s awful at it other than roasting things on a fire, so everyone agrees, just hunting), remembering things you like and getting them when and if he can find them, thoughtful gifts that remind him of you— basically any stones or trinkets he finds on his journeys, finding shelter if need be, keeping you safe and warm— even at the expense of himself, fixing things, taking the time to teaching you survival skills you want to learn, the sort.
The second is beating the shit out of people in his loved ones honor. Walkers, “Saviors,” men named Negan, basically, anyone out to kill you. He didn’t like seeing people hurt his friends, but he does enjoy when he gets to fuck people up in case it happens. To that, a subconscious part of Daryl’s brain says thank god there are no therapists in town; or, that they are either too scared to speak to him or have not gotten the chance to speak to him so he doesn’t have to reckon with the fact that his not-so-secret thirst for punching and shooting arrows at people might be just a little too high.
The third is listening. He didn’t know he was good at this until you told him. He doesn’t interrupt and he is not quick to judge, you had said, “or really you just know how to keep the mean things to yourself.” He smiled at that. He realized that yes, he is a silent judger, but he’s also pretty open-minded. He liked that about himself, and he found out because of you. It made him feel nice.
Also, if you were wondering, yes, you may have noticed that these three forms of affection can all be argued as kinds of acts of service, but again, Daryl doesn’t know phrases like that, and even if he did or if he was classifying any of his interests or skills, beating people up and shooting things with arrows would always be in its category.
The fourth is hugging– another one he wouldn’t admit out loud. He’d never say he needed a hug, but wouldn’t deny a friend one, and they became more meaningful to him after moments he’d thought he’d never see them again, or see you again. Hugs became incredibly important then. It made him realize that hugging was also the first form of intimate, physical touch that he ever felt comfortable with. He obviously didn’t grow up in an affectionate home, but he was at least used to getting a pat on the back from Meryl when he caught something good to eat, said something Meryl thought was funny, or did whatever Meryl told him to do “right the first time.” Seldomly though, if Meryl was in one of his good moods, he’d give Daryl an actual hug, one of those nice, brotherly ones. Maybe Meryl was laughing with his friends when saw Daryl, beckoning him over, hugging him by the side saying, “Hey little brother,” as he tussles Daryl’s hair; or at night, when Meryl stumbles in as a sleepy-go-lucky-drunk, lazily throwing his chest and arms around Daryl, telling him, “I love you.” He knew never to take it that seriously in those moments, but he did, he couldn’t help it even if he was good at making it look like he didn’t from the outside. The only other time Meryl would do or say that is when one or both of them got it from their dad. Nevermore did they feel closer, as if they were one half of the other, than in moments like those. Daryl felt almost bad for liking it. He used to have to earn affection, he realized. He’s almost ready to talk about it. With you. You give him so much so freely. He’s shocked and sometimes terrified by it. But your helping, your saving, your listening, your hugging– it made him feel ready to speak. It is what also helped him learn his last favorite form of affection, the one mentioned above and only saved for you, the fifth–
–kissing.
One of his favorite places to kiss you is by your fireplace. You two would sit on the rug and you’d ask him to drag the coffee table to where you sat. The two of you ate dinner there sometimes, near the fire on a cold winter evening, or you used it as a place to set down your drinks and whatever game you two were playing, or to use as a resting spot for your elbows as he listened to you talk for what felt like an enchanting forever.
He never tired of your voice as you spoke about your old favorite tv shows and movies and books that he had never watched or read, listening with no interruption– as he always does– or waiting for moments to ask you questions or follow-up questions about this character or that and you’d answer with as much as your memory recalled. You’d make yourself laugh with how silly and passionate you got over these things and he would smile softly, blue eyes glowing in the firelight because he liked hearing you speak, he liked everything you had to say.
It’s moments like this when your smiles catch one another’s and your eyes lock a few seconds longer than before because there is nothing else left to place your gaze on that Daryl places his hand on yours or on your leg and you know that means he wants you closer. His hand moves to your face and his thumb gently swipes and caresses your jaw and you both stay there for a moment, looking at each other. You move in slowly and you kiss him so soft and and tender and tentatively like a princess. His princess. The one who made everything so lovely and magical to what he thought of as his weird and jagged gremlin self.
Daryl gets excited during the times you decide to initiate. It makes him feel courageous when you’re courageous. He grabs you by the waist, pulling you closer, taking control as he slips his tongue in your mouth.
You sigh, warmth and happiness surrounding you as you allow him to take control. Grabbing your head as gently as his rough hands would allow, he sets you on the rug, giving you pecks before looking down at you one last time, seeing the fire illuminate your face with red and orange— the colors of his heart and mind when he’s around you— and then, finally, places himself atop of you and goes back to kissing you. Once again, he slides his tongue in your mouth, wordlessly telling you how much he loves you and how much he loves this. His hands trail down from your waist to your neck as you grab his and play with his hair as you kiss into the night until your mouths are sore.
Daryl also remembers your first kiss. You were angry with him, or at least that’s what he thought. But it was more so frustration, a tinge of disappointment. You were falling for him, desperately so whether you wanted to admit it or not, but it’s so hard to fall for someone not willing to open their heart— you can only be so patient. So, uncharacteristically, at least when it came to him, you got in his face, you got loud, you told him how you felt. Not that you loved him, no, not yet. You told him he’s closed off, that you couldn’t take it anymore, that you wanted him to be honest, to be real, to just say how he felt anytime, all the time, whenever he wanted. You never took him as fearful, but still, thoughtlessly, as your faces almost touched, you asked, “What are you so afraid of, Daryl? It’s only me.”
And then, he kissed you. Because it’s not “only” you, it’s because of you. You were everything. So despite bubbling anxiety that rises in his throat, he did it, he put his lips to yours and did it accidently so much more harshly than he should have, but he did it. He was honest. He was real. Because even if he didn’t say it yet, he loved you too. You almost cried when it happened. Nothing ever felt that right. As he lets go, you have so much to say but you’re speechless. All you could do is take the chance he gave you— you kissed him back, again and again.
Another one of his favorite places to kiss is behind houses Kisses behind houses were for a quick session or during the moments he’d be leaving for a trip. Sometimes the things he had to do meant there was a possibility of him dying, and while there were times that you’d journey with him, there were other times when you were needed elsewhere whether at home or on a journey of your own. This meant goodbye kisses. Passionate but bittersweet.
These are the moments he wishes more than ever that fucked you— he means had sex with you– he’s a gentleman— the night before, just in case he didn’t come back. Most of the time he cannot even think about kids. This world is crazy, and he enjoyed his freedom far too much, but there were moments, like when he thought about how he couldn’t see life without you that he did wonder about legacy, about a domestic life with you, or, if he did die, to at least leave you with a piece of him and the love you build together. But then other times he thinks, fuck, no; he always comes back and he’d never want to leave you to do something as big as raise a child on your own– you liked your freedom too, and he liked being an uncle. Either way, it was a fleeting feeling anyhow, but it did make him feel like a gross guy sometimes. Not only because he had never spoken to you about the future yet and didn’t know what you want, but especially during the times where he thinks, damn, he should have turned you over onto your stomach last night, give you something you’d really remember him by, but truly, if one likes sex, these thoughts are that one has sometimes… no one can blame him, he’s just a 40-something-year old girl, after all.
Daryl also likes taking you into the woods for a hunt or taking you on his motorcycle to find a good place to kiss. He is obsessed with privacy. He wants to feel free to be himself. And even though he does feel like he can with the core group, the real him around them is not the same as when he is the real him around you– the one who is your boyfriend and partner, the him who can also be a romantic and sexual being when you two are alone. Almost no one knows him like that and he’s never been in a rush to share or talk about his experiences. He’s not like Rick, he feels, that kind of effortless shifting between roles Rick has about him, not afraid to be open, communicative, affectionate about different areas of his life with friends. In some ways he will always still feel new to all this romance stuff, therefore, he likes to keep it to himself. So yes, sometimes since the group thinks they all have the right to walk into each other’s houses whenever they feel like it— (Daryl is actually the main culprit of this since he has had free dinners and slept in most of their couches and basements than anyone else, but we wont talk about that now)—you have made out or had sex in quite a few different places.
Moving back to the sweeter stuff, Daryl also loves forehead kisses. Giving them and reviving them. But if he was receiving he only liked it when you two were alone. In fact, he likes any kissing only when you’re alone anyway, but especially so to any kissing or affection that look super domestic. Daryl doesn’t try to look cool, but he also doesn’t need the public to know he has more emotions and ways of nurturing that people in town don’t need to know of. He doesn’t consciously consider himself a mysterious person but, ever since most people started generally liking him and talking to him– which he equally found as both pretty nice and weird– he realized he covets the fact that there are still some people who were shy, confused, or on edge by his presence. He doesn’t totally get it and sometimes he’s confused by other people’s confusion but he likes that it means he has some sort of control. You think about how people treat him versus how he is with Rick or the kids in town, or you are hilarious. People think he’s the guy who gets it done or that he’s domineering or both, and he is those things, but he’s also just a massive teddy bear that likes caring for people while also not liking people. It's the most interesting paradox.
Lastly, here is Daryl’s favorite kiss. It was one you had given him. He said it. He finally told you. You had told him a story of how someone left you, how much it hurt, how hard it is to know you’ll never get to talk to them again, to settle things, to let go the proper way now that you’re in this new world. So, in return, to make you feel less alone and to finally get it out, he told you that sometimes Meryl only ever told him he loved him when he got hurt. He told you that it felt like Meryl picked the times that cared for him, cared for him like brother should and not just sidekick or accomplice, that it was those instances and others things that had happened to him in his past with his dad or with the group in the beginning of all of this, is what made him feel he was unlovable. So many other things came out after that and even through the shock, you could see everything he said happening to him, it made sense, and your heart broke for him.
This time, you move your hand to his, you beckon him closer. Your fingers trail down his face after placing a piece of his hair to the side, caressing his. You tell him, “I’ve never had a friend like you. I’ve never had a love like you. I love you all the time. You’re always worthy.” And with that, you seal your words with a kiss.
That was when he truly knew he liked kissing. He learned what it could actually mean and feel like when it happens with someone so perfect for you— the true peace and romance of it all. He had never experienced something more beautiful.
#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon x fem!reader#daryl dixon x afab!reader#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon fluff#daryl dixon fic#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon imagine#the walking dead fluff#the walking dead fanfic#the walking dead fanfiction#twd fluff#twd fanfic#twd fanfiction#daryl x reader#daryl x female reader#daryl x y/n#daryl x you
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"A needed Relief "
Silcoxf!reader oneshot
Warnings: smut (MDNI), 18+, sex scenes, consensual sex, established relationship.
Summary: After a shitty day and a failed experiment, Silco returns to his office to find a way to release his tension.
3k words
Silco's Pov
Shit, shit, shit. Just mere shit.
That is how Silco would have described the day that's just passed. Nothing went accordingly to the plan and the results left him with a bunch of dead bodies and more problems. The security check of the newest invention of Singed was supposed to go smoothly, the doctor did say to him that the new creature would have been mentally stable, not like the last time. As soon as the beast was released from its cage, it attacked the two guards around the doctor, killing them almost instantly and went straight to Silco. The minimal brutal force of the beast was enough to throw the man on the other side of the room, causing his back to collide with the solid rock wall. The air left his lungs after the impact, his good eye went black for a few seconds and his eyesight was totally compromised.
Silco was used to violence and finding himself in difficult situations has always been part of the routine, since he worked as a miner. His body reacted with automatic and calculated moves, grabbing the gun tied to his thigh and firing at the creature. The bullet went right trought its left eye, but the monster did stop for just a fraction of second before continuing his charge against the man. Silco grabbed the knife as a final decision, if he was going down, he wouldn't have gone without a fight. Moments before the impact, a flash passed before his eyes and an hurting memory was enough to take his feet off the floor and attack the creature with an enormous adrenaline rush. The memory was something distant but beared in his mind in an indelible way, like a large scar inside his heart. Two pair of hands suffocating him, keeping his head under velenous waters, which were already eating alive his damaged left eye. The sight of a friend's face, once so close and so brotherly loved, now transformed into something horrendous and atrocious.
The rush of adrenaline caused by the hurtful memory was the last thing needed by the man to assault the beast with the knife in one hand and the gun in the other, with a scream that contained all his hate and a primal attachment to life, Silco jumped.
The landing was unexpected, given the fact that the man found himself on the floor on the other side of the room. Looking at his left, a surprising yet appreciated vision caused a little satisfied smile to form on his face, glad to see his second in charge doing her job. "And in a wonderful way", he thought.
Sevika was on the beast and her mechanical arm was buzzing, busy with the amputation of the monster's head.
"Thank Janna, she was there..." thought Silco, before turning to Singed.
While in the background some horrendous noises were still going on, Silco kneeled down at the same level of the doctor.
"Next time, make its goddam brain at least a bit normal and manageable... or you'll end up as that mass of shimmer and shit". Singed turned his head to see Sevika, busy getting the violaceus blood off her arm. With a grin, the woman looked at the doctor and pointed her knife at him.
"Let's return to the Last Drop, Sevika. We'll see each other the next week, doctor, and I'll be waiting for better results". Slamming the door behind her, Sevika and Silco left the place.
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Finding himself outside his office, the man esitates a bit before opening the door, hearing some noise inside the room. Silco grabs the gun with his free hand one more time today, rethinking his life choices for once. With a big sigh, the man opens the door with a kick and points the gun ahead of him, moving his head from left to right to find the intruder.
And then, behind his desk, enlightened by the big greenish window on one side of the room, the chair turns to reveal a sight that immediately relaxes his sore shoulders and makes him drop his arms.
"Hi, why are you here?" Silco says with a tired voice, letting the gun down.
Silco leaves the spot at the door to go near the figure and, as he approach, his lungs fills with her perfume, causing his body to relax as he set his eyes on the girl sitting on the chair. He cannot resist but think how his life has changed since the two of you encountered during his research for the creation of shimmer. Singed was definitely the main author of the project and the drug, but also her contribution had been essential in the creation of the empire of Zaun.
Silco's nights were not anymore hours of interminable pain and regret, or planification for the next attack, the next drug deal, the next money exchange. During the nights in which he let himslef rest for more than a few hours, her company was like fresh air compared to the filthy and toxic one of Zaun. She was his rock, his safe harbour were he could let himself being vulnerable, even though Silco was not used to let himself go off completely, being always alert of every possible problem and danger.
"Is that the way to say that you have missed me, for not having seen me in days?" The girl say with a frown on her face and a slightly hirritated tone. "Thank you so much, Sil".
Hearing her tone and the nickname, a bit of guilt starts to hug the man's heart and with a sigh he places his arms around her chest, leaving the gun on the desk and resting his face in between her head and shoulder.
"Sorry, darling, my day was shitty as hell, and I am not in a good mood. But I am sorry for the way I talked to you." Silco was still learning to control his anger and was trying not to target it against his loved one, being her not responsible for any of his trouble. It was just the hard work of every day and the lack of sleep, probably. "How was your day? Better than mine indeed" says the man, plopping himself on the couch, finding a comfortable position for his sore back.
"Mhhh, I didn't do much today, rest day. But I helped the little Jinx with her project. She goes around and paints everything that comes in her sight. Look what she did for you!" the girl says, handing over to him his ashtray, now coloured in bright pink with blue lines.
"Looks good, darling. Come here, sit with me, please. " Doing as he asks, the obedient girl sits herself near him on the old couch of the office, letting one arm resting on her legs, while with the other one, she starts strocking his hair. "I am so grateful when you help me with the little one, a hand is always useful and I am trying to be the best for her and to teach her the way of the world, but it is not always so easy. This world is a cruel place, and if she doesn't understand her place and gains power, she'll be devoured by the city itself. The meeting today with Singed was shit and everything went wrong. I have to find a solution if the old man doesn't find one." Silco speaks with a low groan in his voice, letting his hand rest on his forehead, sensing the approaching headache that will keep him up all night.
Thanks Janna, there was Sevika saving my ass, but it was something he would never admit to anyone.
"I am sorry, Sil. Do you want me to alleviate the pain a bit?" The girl says, lifting a bit up her figure from the couch. "You know my methods always works with you".
Being in a relatively long relationship, Silco knows what the girl is up to and the mischievous look in her eyes can mean just one thing. Anchoring his multicolored eyes to her face and watching deeply into hers, Silco answers:
"Daddy would be so proud if the little darling would help with the pain"
Without esitation, the girl lifts herself from the couch, sitting right into his lap, legs spread apart and hands on his chest to let an illusion of space between them. Silco is not surprised by the sudden action, his growing desire starts to burn into his chest and without any hesitation, one of his hands goes to rest on the lower back of the girl, while the other one goes for her hair, strocking gently the back of her head.
"Nice initiative, darling. What are you gonna do now that you find yourself in this position?" Silco wasn't so acquainted with being submissive, and the position he was in wasn't helping his frustration and will to have control over something, having just experienced a very shitty day. "I'll let you have five minutes of control, little one, just 'cause I feel generous today. Do your best with the time I give you".
The girl doesn't wait another second and starts to kiss Silco. The encounter of his mouth with hers is the final need of the man before letting it all go, allowing the relax to enter his body and with a deep sigh, he finally feels safe, with tha arms of his darling all around him. The taste of her lips is like liquid honey to him, something one would like to taste all day and all night, but the empire of Zaun won't be build in just one day and the city needs to be guarded and guided by the man. A little sense of what can be similar to sadness starts to arise from his chest, sensing some guilt for the numerous nights in which Silco must work and isn't able to fulfill his duty of boyfriend. The eternal sleepless nights, lived behind piles of papers and letters, while the girl sleeps alone in his bed, is something that hunts him in moments like that, when he can relax.
But Silco is not used to let such emotions take control of his heart, mind and body and the reaction is not late to arrive.
Wanting more from the simple kisses he is giving to her, Silco opens his mouth to let his toungue explore the insides of her mounth, without wasting time asking for the permission. The simple and intimate atmosphere of before suddenly changes and a new wave of heat flows into his body, starting from a much lower place than the chest, this time.
With the new sudden need for more contact, Silco finds a more confortable position on the couch and lets his body get in contact with the one of her, deleting all of the left space between them. The sudden contact of the centre of her spread legs with his crotch, makes him leave out a rough sigh, wanting more than just a simple contact. Without stopping from kissing her, Silco lifts the girl's shirt up, reveling her bare chest without any type of support. Interrupting the kiss just to admire what was already his, throwing her shirt on the floor, the man says:
"Your time is up darling, now Daddy decided what to do with you".
"As you want, Sil. You know I am yours." the girl responds.
Silco doesn't waste any more time and, taking off his shirt, he breaks again the distance between their bodies, melting into the feel of her body's heat against his bare chest. After that, another session of passionate kisses starts and the urging need growing in his pants becomes every minute more and more demanding. He cannot resist to her touch, he cannot resist to her body, he cannot resist to her soul. Silco arises his legs and meets the intimate part of the girl, wanting to provoke her and release a bit of his frustation at the same time. Her reaction his repentine and as soon as he comes in contact with her, the girl starts to mimic his movements, a wetness spreading onto her underwear.
"Sil, please... I can't resist for long". Silco understand the urge of the girl and with a smirk on his face, suddenly the man gets up and, lifting his loved one, goes to the other room. The bedroom is clean, tied up and doesn't seem to be used very much. Silco was using the room as a spare storage for the Last Drop, but things changed once the relationship started to become more serious, and he transformed the room into a bedroom for the girl, if ever she wanted to sleep there.
With one feet, the man opens the door and lays down the girl on the bed, big enough for the both of them. Silco senses the urging need in his pants, so, without waste of time, unbottoms his pants and throws them on the floor, before starting to undress the girl. After having taken her pants and underwear, the vision of her naked body on the bed is something that Silco has missed so much since the last time they have seen each other. Every curve of her body is in the right place, he knows every mark, every scar, every mole on that sweet and delicate skin.
"I have missed this, darling. Remind me to fuck you more often, please". Laughing at his words, the girl opens her arms to embrace him into an intimate hug, resulting in both of them on the bed. Silco embraces her into the hug and kisses her on the cheek, but for just one second before the contact of his lenght encounters her wet spot, sending a rush trought his nervous system.
"Now, let me fuck you, pretty one"
Aligning his tip with her entrance, Silco lets himself inside with a low groan, sending shivers through his spine and a hot pleasure spreads from his member. Feeling her wet, hot spot and the tight pressure on his lenght is something that drives him crazy and, bending down, he bites the girl's shoulder, leaving a visible red mark.
"Now, you are mine"
Starting with a slow piece, the man rises in order to have a complete vision of the mess his lovers is, with her hair spread all over the pillow and a redness on her face that makes her even more beautiful, ready to give all of her to the man. Ready to fulfill all of his desires. Speeding up the peace of his movements, the struggle of Silco starts to rise, looking down at his pleased darling and seeing her in such a position.
"Daddy will make you cum, little one. Don't worry, I got you"
Letting the girl moan in pleasure, Silco trusts himself into her one last time, before exiting without any warning, leaving the girl into a struggling position. Everything in the body of the man is screaming, every bone wants more, every cell wants to let out and his trobbing member reminds him of his pressing needs.
"On top now, darling" , asks the man with a demanding tone.
The girl leaves out a sigh and changes position, finding herself on the top of Silco. Admiring her from above is one of his favourite activities, but the sight of her on top of him is even better. Despite being under, Silco knows he still has the control in the situation and, with one hand on her back and the other one guiding his length, he enters just one more time. The wetness of her insides is enough to let him almost arrive at the end, but with a strong will, Silco imposes to himself and his instincts to let her cum first, being the gentleman that he is.
With a fast pace, Silco starts thrusting into her with his full length, reaching the soft spot at the top of her insides. The girl aches and the sensation given by the sudden change in her position doesn't help Silco with his mission. Feeling her wetness and tightness around him, he thrusts again, lifting his hips from the bed. One, two, three times, while the girl follows his movements.
"Sil, fuck, I cannot resist much more"
"Cum for me, darling, please" asks Silco with the little voice he can retrieve from all the moaning that was going on.
"Fuck, I am gonna cum..." the girl quickens her pace and movements of up and down, back and forth, allowing Silco to feel the rubbing of her clitoris against his lower belly. With a low moan and trembling legs, the girl orgasms and her walls reduce the already small distance with his member, causing an involontary spasm from the man.
"Little one" says Silco with a very demanding voice "resists a bit more, I cannot let you rest now" and, withous waiting for her reply, Silco grabs her hips and thrusts his waist even harder than before inside her, causing the girl to arch again. Every fibre of the man is screaming in pleasure and his throbbing member guides his mind, hastening the pace and drowning into the vision of his darling in such a position.
Feeling a growing urge arising from his lower parts, Silco lifts himself up and creates again a contact between their bodies. At the slightly touch of his chest with her bare breasts and her arms around his body, Silco cums with a low grown, sinking his hands into her hips, feeling his liquid building up and releasing inside of her.
Reducing his movements, Silco lets himself drown in the pillow, while with one hand guides the girl towards his chest, silently asking for contact, once more. Without taking his still pulsing member off, Silco feels the girl laying herself on his chest, while their irregular breathings try to find a shared rhythm.
Everything is peace now, the problems and struggles of the day seems to be something so far away in Silco's mind. The weight of his lover on the chest is a calming sensation, a feeling that the man knows to be a rare treasure he must protect with all of his strength. He is ready to do anything to protect what is under his legacy.
Releasing a sign of relief, gently strocking her hair, the man finally finds peace and, letting himself out and spooning her from behind, Silco falls asleep for once.
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Loving injuries
Vi x injured reader - pt 1.
🪻&🌸(🌧kinda)
Warnings: (blood-kinda)
This is my first story, so uhh, lmk what I need to improve on or if it's good or not! Ps: I am dislexic and I'm so sorry If I spell things wrong js plz lmk😭🙏🏼
Made this a little different from the show like:
After Vi "died." Everyone went their separate ways, some better than others.
Ekko met Vi after she got out of jail, letting her stay with at the firelights hide out.
Ekko was like an older brother when you guys were little, but you haven't seen him in forever(he still has that brotherly act of protection and is still defensive over you)
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You and Vi were child hood friends and you had the biggest crush on her but then she "died". She was romeing the streets then she finds you against a building, sleeping....but she doesn't notice your hurt..
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"Y/n?" Vi shakes your shoulder to wake you. She moves you hood out of your face. "Oh my god, y/n!" You wake up and realize someone's talking to you and touching you.
"Get away, I'll hurt you." You say as you whisper, slowly grabing her wrist, using up all your energy. "Y/n it's me, Vi." You look up at her, letting go of her wrist, but you can't see her. Your visions all blurry.
"No, stop, get away from me!" You tilt your head up to try and look at her better. "Y/n..I'm right here."
She squats to your level. She's strokes her thumb on your cheek. You wince at first, but then you look up to see the comfort of her light powder blue eyes and the pink shade of her hair.
You relax, your head into her palm, and start tearing up. Trying to use your arms to sit up but end up slowly leaning back down to the ground.
"I thought you died. What happened to you?...We needed you. I- I needed you." You muttered the last part in hope that she didn't hear you.
"I know... I'm so sorry. I got arrested... I'm sorry I left the way I did."
She gets down on her knees to hug you tightly when you whimper in pain. "Ow shit shit shit!" You shift your hand to hold tighter on the side of your stomach.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
You steadily move your hand and show her. There's a large blotch of blood seeping through your shirt.
"Y/n what the hell happened?! Who did this to you..?" She shifts her hand twords the injured area. "It's fine.. I'm fine. I've been like this for a few days."
She lifts your shirt up to see the wooned. You rapped that part of your stomach in bandages, but there's still a hole lot of blood on them. Vi slowly unrapped it while looking up at your eyes ever once a while.
She takes it all off, and she sees the huge wooned. It looked infected. Yellow coloring around the area and was still parshly still open and somewhat still bleeding. She could see where you tried stitching it up.
"Y/n, this looks really bad. How long have actually been like this?"
"I-...I've been here for a week. You sigh, knowing if you lied to her, that would make her even more worked up than she already is.
"I got stabbed almost two weeks ago.." You pause to take a breath. "I dont know who did it. All I know is I was trying to... okay, well, I was trying to steal some food... L-listen, I know it's bad, but I don't have any money, and I can't get up without the risk of it opening back up again.." she looks at you with her wide, worried eyes.
"Look, I know a place where you can rest, and I'm not giving you a choice. You're coming with me. Okay? And we'll figure out how to get you up." You admit defeat and relax your muscles against the wall again.
"..okay."
She raps you back up but puts the bandage on tighter so it doesn't rip.
"Okay, ready?" She holds your face, putting her forehead against yours. Getting back into a squatting position.
"No, but that's fine." She chuckles "Okay I'll pick you up slow. Don't worry about putting your weight on me. I can handle it, I've got you."
"Okay... thank you." You mumbled.
You rap your arms around her neck. She picks you up as slowly as possible. As she stands you up, you whine in pain, tucking your head into her neck. She tapes your thigh, letting you know she wants your legs up around her. She's holding you up by your thighs. You close your eyes, resting your head on her shoulder, loosening the rest of your body against hers.
"You okay, princess?"
You froze up. You haven't heard anybody call you that in a really...really long time. She would call you that when you guys were kids, it would annoy you back then, but now? It sounds so comforting coming from her, but in truth, you start to get flustered.
Your whole body heats up, and you hide your face back into her her neck so she doesn't see you blushing.
"I- um. Yeah. Yes. I mean, I'm okay."
She noticed your body tence up and the warmth of hers against yours.
"Okay..." She lifts her eyebrow side eyeing you with a smeark on her face. She didn't think you would react like this. She laughs lightly under her breath.
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You fell asleep while she walked the both of you through the sewers. She meets what seems like a dead end. She knocks a certain rhythm, allowing the door to slowly open.
As you slowly wake up, you're greeted by lots of lights. "Ahh." You shelled your eyes with your arm, trying to get used to the bright lights. "Well, good morning, sunshine." she laughs lightly.
"Hey...Vi?" Ekko says as he jogs up to Vi noticing you in her arms, not knowing it's you. Your breath chokes up hearing such a familiar yet unfamiliar voice.
"So uhh...you gunna introduce me?"
You turn your head slowly. Your eyes meet his, starting to tear up. Getting out of Vi's arms as quickly as you can, still having a hard time walking. You tried to walk to him, you lean for him almost falling if him and Vi didn't catch you. Your arms go around him as he goes around your neck.
You start sobbing immediately when he hugs back.
"I...I haven't seen- seen you in f-forever." It's hard for you to get a full sentence out, trying to catch your breath from crying as well from the pain on your side.
"H-how are you-...are you..are you real..?"
Hugging you tighter and placing his head on top of yours. Ekkos voice trying not to crack, but how could he not? You were like his little sister.
As you stay like that for a moment, he pulls away. Vi pulling you back so you can rest your weight on her chest. You stumbled a bit, but she held you with support.
His eyes widen, looking down at your stomach. "God! Your bleeding!" You lightly laugh it off, but you couldn't hold back your coughing. Sweat dripping from the side of your forehead. You grip your side tightly.
"Ekko, she needs to lay down. Now."
"I got it. Hey, we need backboard now!" Ekko yells waving his hand in a hurry.
"Guys, really, I'm fi..." Your sentence fades as you faint, leaning back on Vi, now all your weight is forced onto Vi front body.
"Shit shit now!" Vi yells, grabing under both your arms. Ekko quickly goes to you, grabing the back of your neck so you don't hurt it.
Vi, Ekko, and some of the firelights lift you onto the backboard. They lift you up, walking to the room where Vi has been staying.
Setting you down to put you on the bed slowly. Ekko asked the rest of them to leave. Vi was sitting beside the bed, keeping a close eye on your movements, while Ekko was leaning against the wall.
"Why didn't you tell me you knew where she was.." Ekko says with his head down, zoning out on the floor. "Ekko, I just found her not even two hours ago.. If I knew she was hurt.. hell, if I knew she was still alive, you think I wouldn't tell you?" Vi starts to raise her voice in defense twords him. Ekko was about to speak when they both noticed you turning your head.
"Hmm...? Oww shit." You bring your hands up to cover your face in pain, then to your side.
"Hey princess... how you feeling?" She brushes her hand along the side of your cheek. Your eyes look up at hers with such a soft glimpse.
"I'm- ow- I feel sick.." You cough a little more aggressively than early. To aggressive for Vi's comfort. She rests her hand on your head, feeling for your temp. "Cupcake, you're really hot. Drink some water." She says as she helps your head up, putting her hand on the back of your neck, and brings the cup to your mouth.
"I'm gunna go see if we have any more blankets and possibly some pillows, okay? I shouldn't be out too long." He looks past Vi, making it seem like he was only talking to you. You could feel the thickness of the tension in the room between the two.
"Okay, thank you." He walks up to you, smiling, giving you a peck on your head before walking out of the room, closing the door.
The blinds are shut, as well as the windows. It helps, but it scares you a bit to be in such an unfamiliar area. Vi can tell from your expressions that you feel uncomfortable.
"Baby, what is it? Is something the matter?" As you turn your head twords her, looking up at her, surprised at the pet name she called you. Vi gently cups your face, strokes of her thumb slowly makes your garde go down.
"Im...fine. I just don't feel good, and I'm a little... uncomfortable being here.."
"Yeah? Why is that?"
You stay silent for a moment, not knowing how to express your emotions.
"Is there anything I can do to help cupcake?" She looks at you with care in her eyes.
There she goes again. Those names... god, they sound so sweet coming from her. You can't believe you ever thought this was annoying.
You hold eye contact for a few minutes, maybe? It feels like it could be forever from how locked your eyes were set on each other.
"I.." You turn your head away, looking over, breaking eye contact. It was getting to be too much for you.
She gently turns you by your chin to look back at her. She looked at you with such soft eyes while her eyebrows frowned lightly.
"I'm okay Vi. I'll be alright, okay?"
"Okay.."
She leans twords you, resting her head against yours. As she picks her head up, she looks down at your bandages, ghosting her hand against it.
"Do you want me to restich this?"
"If you can, please...I don't want you to go out of your way, though."
"It'll never be out of my way if it's for you. Understand? When you need me, I'm there. When you call me, I'm there. Okay?" She spoke so softly yet firmly to get the point through you.
Her lips brush a slow kiss on your head.
Once she takes off the bandages fully, she takes out the old stitchs slowly, trying not to hurt you. Somewhat successful. She pulls out the alcohol. Your whole body tenses up, moving yourself over to the other side of the bed, scared of how bad it's gunna hurt.
Vi sets the bottle down and reaches for your hand, slowly trying not to scare you away. You let her hold your hand as her thumb strokes the back of your hand.
"Princess, it's badly infected, I need to clean it before it gets worse, I'll hold your hand all the way through. Please just...let me help."
You stay in the same spot in silence, hesitating to rest back on the bed, even though it hurts like hell.
"I have a feeling you're feeling this sick because it's infected." She brings your hand up to her lips, brushing kisses on the back of your hand, in hopes to comfort you. Each kiss makes you relax your body against the bed.
"Okay... just don't put it directly on it. Please."
"I wouldn't, I'll use uh... this."
She said as she looked around for cotton swabs. Finding some holding it up so you know what it is.
"Okay, just be gentle..?" You look at her with puppy eyes, not realizing what you were doing.
"Of course, princess, always." All Vi could think about is pulling your face close to hers to kiss you...
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Part two soon! Ik this is really long for my first one but I really like this plot ig😅
#arcane vi#vi fluff#arcane fluff#arcane x reader#vi x reader#vi x you#vi smut#vi x y/n#vi arcane#vi league of legends#league of legends#arcane#arcane community#arcane league of lesbians#arcane x you#piltovers finest#arcane fanfic#vi fanfic#Laviannasfanfics
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maybe i’ve been watching too much GOT/HOTD shit but…tttw au where reader decides to seduce paul into p much being her servant (kinda like what cersei did to jaime except she still does actually care for him a bit). and lady jessica pushes for the marriage between reader and feyd to get her away from paul. i just feel like that’d make the fight between feyd and paul just that much more personal 🫢
THROWN TO THE WOLVES MASTERLIST
AUTHOR’S NOTE — Hello! I hope you still remember my multichapter fic 🥴 It's been a long time but I needed a break from it to create other stories and finally it's time for me to write the requests that were about this universe. For the start I went with this twisted AU and be warned because I have abandoned all my moral compass while writing it lol 😳🙈 I mostly explored the dynamic between the characters here and I don't think you have to know "Thrown To The Wolves" to read this story but it surely will make more sense if you do! 😊 Also, since it's an AU – and a wicked one as well – I didn't tag anyone from this fic's taglist. I also didn't tag anyone from the Feyd-Rautha's taglist because it's an AU of already existing fic that not everyone has read, so... I didn't want to bother anyone 😅
WARNINGS — INCEST, mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut), Reader is NOT a good person (as we already know... but she's even worse here)
WORD COUNT — 5,380
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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Watching your half-brother train, you only pretended to read a book in front of you. You couldn’t focus on the words because you were still rethinking the argument you had with your father earlier. Now, when Paul was officially an adult, Duke Leto Atreides signed a document that only solidified your brother as the heir and the next Duke.
He might not have been from a legal union like you were, but he was a boy. However, you had a feeling it was about more than that. After all, if your father wanted to change the law and allow women to inherit, he would do that. No, it was about Paul being his favourite. It was about Paul being prepared for this role from the moment he was born. It was about Paul being born from a woman that your father truly loved. Unlike your mother whose cold grave you had visited earlier that day. You were the only one visiting her.
To think that you were supposed to be born a boy. Paul was supposed to be a girl. Yet, the cruel universe played a joke at your expense. And now you were a burden of the Atreides family instead of an heir. Unless…
The book you were reading was a history one, telling stories of ancient times and the ways of the noblemen in the past. It mentioned gross and yet fascinating acts of the forgotten practices to keep the royal bloodlines pure. Incestous relationships between cousins… and even siblings. At first, reading the book late at night in your room, you had felt disgust at the mention of a sister-wife. But now, watching Paul training and reliving an argument with your father, you began having second thoughts.
The only way of getting the title of The Atreides Duchess would be to marry Paul. And he was of gentle, soft nature. He was not only devoted to you in his brotherly, naive love but also innocently easy to manipulate. You had done that multiple times before already; making him take blame for something you did or do something for you that you didn’t feel like doing yourself.
Would he be easy to seduce, though? You wondered, trying to shake off a small wave of guilt and disgust at the thought. You had to be stronger than your moral compass to survive. You knew already that Lady Jessica was plotting behind your father’s back to send you away, to marry you off to some awful, insignificant lord and get rid of you. Seducing Paul was your only way of staying at home and of getting the power you wanted.
To have an apple and eat an apple, you thought, biting on your lower lip.
Paul was inexperienced with women. Not that you were very experienced with men yourself but you were observant and interested in the subject. You studied books, interactions, gossip. Paul was not interested in such affairs at all. His whole life was studying and training, being moody and sad about his future role of the Duke.
Oh, the irony. He didn’t even want to bear this title that you so badly craved.
You closed the book loudly, startling him a little and getting his attention. He raised an eyebrow at you but you only smirked and gathered your things to go back inside.
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At the supper table, you were acting moody and annoyed. You watched from the corner of your eye how it was catching Paul’s interest. When you excused yourself in the middle of the meal and left, visibly pissed at something, it didn’t take him long to follow you.
“Sister, wait,” he called for you in the corridor when you were near the doors leading to your chambers. “What is it? Talk to me,” he pleaded and grabbed your arm from behind.
“Oh, sweet Paul,” you smiled and turned around to face his confused face. He was sweet indeed. And he was a pretty boy, which you hadn’t been thinking of before for obvious reasons. But it wouldn’t be that difficult to force yourself to kiss him and lay with him. “You’re so adorable for worrying about me,” you sighed. “You’re the only one here who cares for me.”
“That is not true, (Y/N), you know that,” Paul fixed a hair strand on your face to push it off of your cheek. “Our father loves you and my mother… She cares about you, too. In her own way. I know that.”
“Your mother?” You snorted, looking up to meet his worried gaze. “She’s plotting already, don’t you know? She wants to marry me off and… And you as well,” you lied, looking away and pretending to get all shy.
“What?” Paul furrowed his brows as he let go of your arm. He was shocked to hear your revelation. “Am I not too young to get married? I mean, I know I could but… Shouldn’t I get older and wiser and…”
“I know,” you interrupted him and looked back into his pretty hazel eyes. “But what can I say? They want you to have a future Duchess already, so she can come here and be trained how to be a great leader one day by your side… To replace me…” You faked a shiver of your voice. “That was the reason behind my argument with our father. What did he tell you?” You bit on your lower lip.
“That…” Paul swallowed thickly, not wanting to anger you or offend you, “That… That you are angry about me inheriting. I wanted us to talk about it, actually. I wanted to explain to you that it is not my wish. I would love to give the title to you. I do not wish to rule,” Paul assured you and took you by your hands.
All those sweet, gentle gestures that you had been giving no second thoughts until now since they were innocent. But now, you savoured each one of them, coming up with ideas how to use them against him.
“He lied,” you sighed and looked down, sadly. You felt a small sting in your heart but you had to ignore it. “The argument was about me not wanting to leave Caladan… Not wanting to leave my home and my family. I don’t want to be sent away… I will miss you, you’re all I have,” you faked a sob and hugged him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck so he couldn’t see how fake your crying was. You sniffed a few times to make it more authentic.
Paul was surprised and a little petrified. However, he put his arms around you to pull you closer and rub your back.
“Oh, sweet (Y/N), my dear sister… I won’t let them send you away if you don’t want to… And not to anyone you wouldn’t desire yourself,” he assured you.
“I don’t want you to get married yet either… I… I…” You were looking for the right words as you took a step back to look at him again, faking a shivering lip and glossy eyes by blinking a lot. “I wish we were children again. Just you and I, always together. I don’t want anyone to ever come between us.”
“No one will come between us, (Y/N),” Paul squeezed your fingers. “I promise you that. You’re my sister, you forever will be. I love you,” he nodded and gave you puppy eyes.
“You… You don’t understand,” you pulled away and opened the doors to your room. “Go away, I shouldn’t be near you,” you took a deep and dramatic breath in. “It’s bad for me, I… Oh, I shouldn’t tell,” you sighed and walked inside your room, hoping your weird reaction would intrigue him.
And indeed, Paul followed you inside. He caught you by your wrist and made you stop as the doors closed behind him. You had him trapped between the wall and your body even though he was the one holding your hand. But his grip was gentle as usual.
“I don’t understand, (Y/N). Please, what’s wrong? I hate to see you like this,” he was worried and desperate to help you. You bit on your lip and smirked, changing the atmosphere quickly as you took a step ahead and got free from the grip of his hand.
Taking a step ahead, you forced him to retreat and his back hit the wall. Your faces were inches away and you batted your eyelashes innocently as you stared at his lips hungrily.
“Wh-what are you doing?” Paul swallowed thickly.
“You wanted to know what’s wrong with me,” you whispered seductively. “It’s a sinful disease, Paul, and believe me, I’ve tried to get rid of it but I can’t. You’re all I can think about,” your words were so soft and quiet, almost inaudible, for his ears only.
“We…We shouldn’t… “Paul whimpered pathetically. However, he didn’t even try to push you away. You raised an eyebrow at him, genuinely surprised at the lack of more definitive reaction.
“So, you want me to stop? Tell me then, sweet brother. I don’t want to hurt you,” you assured him and caressed his cheek with the fingertips of your right hand. He closed his eyelids and breathed in your scent. “Want me to stop?” You repeated the question teasingly.
Paul didn’t dare to say it out loud. He only shook his head as a no.
You had expected this task to be easy but you didn’t suspect it to be that easy. When you pressed your body closer to his, you felt how hard he was between his legs. Poor sweet Paul, so desperate for any girl’s attention, so inexperienced. He would really let his own sister take care of him. You chuckled and finally joined your lips together in a gentle kiss, not wanting to scare him away.
It was your first kiss, too, after all. And, for some reason, you really liked it. You liked that your first kiss belonged to your own brother, to your own flesh and blood. Even if Lady Jessica sends you away one day to marry another man, he would never possess you with his first marriage kiss for your own brother had the honour.
“I know you love your mother,” you whispered after breaking the kiss. Paul’s cheeks were flushed, his lips parted. He opened his eyelids slowly, looking at you in awe. It was adorable. “But she hates me,” you reminded him. “You must change her attitude towards me, you know. You don’t want them to send me away, don’t you? Who else is gonna kiss you so sweetly when I’m away?”
“I… I must leave now,” Paul swallowed thickly and pushed you away before running out of the room.
It left you confused but you knew that your confusion was no match with his. He was turned on and scared, he needed alone time. So, you gave him that and went to sleep yourself, a little anxious but also excited since the plan seemed to be working better than you had been expecting.
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At first, Paul was ignoring you. Shyly looking away, blushing like crazy, avoiding your gaze. But you were relentless, always around him, talking to him with other people around, forcing him to answer and look at you. Eating by the same table, you would find moments when no one paid attention so you could treat yourself with fruit and honey in the most seductive manner while looking into his eyes. And you made sure to touch him briefly every time you walked past him. The poor boy was in physical and mental torture, you could see that and you only waited for him to snap.
You began to wear more revealing dresses and show off your body. But everything changed on the day you walked inside his bathroom, pretending it was an accident. He was in the bathtub, you just wanted to borrow a towel – a stupid and unbelievable excuse.
However, you didn’t walk in on him relaxing or taking a nap in the embrace of warm water, no. You walked in on him being busy with himself with his lips parted, head thrown back and eyes shut close. The name he was moaning out loud was yours.
Gently, not wanting to startle him, you helped him to finish. And even though at first he was terrified of you seeing him like that he quickly gave in, too desperate to have any shame left in his body.
That act sealed your sinful union. He finally gave in to the ill-natured attraction and began to follow you around like the most loyal servant. And whenever you were left alone, he was like an overexcited puppy, wanting to kiss and be kissed, wanting to touch and be touched. Just in case – aware of the norms noble women were supposed to live by – you didn’t allow him to actually spoil your innocence. But everything else was allowed.
You were not only pleased with your seductive skills and the fact you had the future Duke wrapped around your little finger. Some twisted, wicked part of you was also happy from the fact that you managed to spoil your father’s favourite child; his little precious toy was broken now. Paul Atreides was rotten forever now. There was no going back from such sin.
You were damned already anyway. But it felt nice to drag someone down with you just for the sake of annoying your father and Lady Jessica.
Your own pride made you less attentive and careful, meanwhile Paul’s mother was very observant when it came to her son. He was the apple of her eye. She knew that his relationship with you had always been close but she noticed the sudden odd mood swings of Paul. First, he avoided you nearly shyly, only to follow you around even more than ever before again? You two had always been hugging sometimes, sharing an innocent kiss here and there but now Lady Jessica felt like it was getting more and more often for you to share affections. And she felt bad for suspecting a weirdly sexual energy behind those acts but after some time she stopped feeling guilty as she realised something had been going on behind her back indeed.
One time she decided to follow her son who went straight to your chambers after the training. Her footsteps were light and quiet, she took her time and gave you an opportunity to develop the situation. She pressed her ear to the doors and heard soft moans, sweet praises. Even though she had been suspecting it, she still felt shocked and disgusted to find out the truth.
Your heart stopped in your chest as the doors were pushed open and you spotted Lady Jessica catching you kissing her son. His cheeks went crimson red in an instant.
“Mother…” He swallowed thickly, standing up and clasping his hands in front of himself, trying to hide his erection.
Lady Jessica was speechless. Her eyes widened at first and then they squinted as she laid them on you.
“You little witch,” she hissed at you. “You twisted, evil minx. What have you done?”
“Me?” You acted innocent but you couldn’t hide a smirk.
Yes, it was scary to be found out. But it gave you satisfaction that she now was aware of how you had spoiled her sweet, precious son.
“Mother, don’t blame her!” Paul sweetly defended you, he was truly adorable. But he was ignored by the both of you. It was between you and her. He was only a tool.
“Have you got any idea what you’ve done?” Lady Jessica asked you harshly.
“What about it?” You asked and clenched your jaw.
What was the worst punishment anyway? You realised suddenly that even being sent away wouldn’t be so bad… The victory of spoiling Paul was the most delicious part of this situation.
“I will not tell your father,” Lady Jessica approached you to put her hands on Paul’s arms to walk him away gently. “For his own sake. He would be devastated. But this will be over. You better start packing,” she gave you a contemptuous look.
“Mother, no!” Paul pleaded. “I love her, I do. Can’t I marry (Y/N)? That’s what our ancestors were doing, why can’t we?”
You chuckled at him. He was so sweetly naive. Lady Jessica slapped his face.
“Stop talking nonsense!” She pushed him out of the room and then gave you one last look. “You look proud of yourself for bewitching my son. I’ll make sure you’ll pay for that.”
“And you’re not proud of bewitching my father?” You asked.
“I will send you to the Harkonnens, you spoiled brat. Their rot matches yours. But good luck with bewitching any of them,” she threatened.
The mention of the Harkonnens made you scared indeed. But you didn’t want to show it. Not in front of her.
But she was right. Wrapping Paul around your finger had been easy. Too easy. Doing the same to a Harkonnen would not.
However, you decided to keep your head high. You would never show fear or defeat in front of Lady Jessica.
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Because of Lady Jessica’s words, you treated the marriage with Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen like a challenge. With many attempts, you finally managed to tame him and it was your biggest pride.
Now you laughed at the memory of how proud you had been for spoiling Paul. It had been meaningless and too easy. Taming Feyd-Rautha to be your pet made you feel invincible.
Paul had been so naive and innocent that in the beginning of your marriage, he had still been sending you secret letters about his love and devotion. The news of his death had been nearly relieving – there would be no more pathetic, desperate letters, you had thought, while burning the last one.
Your husband knew about your past. Feyd-Rautha loved everything sick, twisted and rotten to the core. You had told him about Paul to impress him and it had worked. You had even allowed him to read some of the letters from Paul before burning them.
Finding out that Paul was alive after all, and he had gained power on Arrakis that you and your husband could only dream of, felt like a punch. You could see a switch in Feyd’s behaviour while you waited for the confrontation. He was observing you quietly and battling with his own thoughts. Feyd-Rautha had never been insecure before. But now he had a feeling you might still feel attraction to Paul Atreides. Especially now, when Paul was a powerful leader, too. After all, what spurred you on the most was power and influence.
What would Paul do seeing you again? You both wondered silently, without sharing your thoughts with each other. Would he want you back or would he toss you aside? Feyd feared that Paul still wanted you. You hoped he would. It would provide you safety no matter what outcome of that day would be.
Not that you didn’t love Feyd-Rautha. In the process of taming him, you had found yourself enamoured with him. You were two halves of the same rotten apple. But the most important thing for you was your own survival. Your own and the child’s under your heart.
The guards took you and other prisoners of the Arrakeen Palace to see the mysterious Muad’Dib but you all had already known who he truly was. The Reverend Mother, Princess Irulan and you – all the women amongst the prisoners – had known it for sure that the brave Fremen leader had to be an Atreides. You shared a connection with Paul, you were of the same father, the same surname, the same blood, the same flesh… Each other’s first lovers.
He looked different now; more mature. His hair was longer and curly instead of being neatly combed. His eyes were harsher and blue from the spice. You were nearly petrified at the sight of him because he… He looked handsome and attractive. You suddenly remembered all the shared kisses and affections and it made your cheeks burn.
“There you are, sweet sister,” Paul’s eyes sparkled at the sight of you. “I’ve been missing you,” he pointed out but you could spot harsh irony in his words.
From the corner of your eye you spotted Lady Jessica. Her power and influence had grown as well those past few months. She was a local Reverend Mother with her face covered under veils, chains and tattoos. She looked like the most intimidating and the most powerful person in the room. She probably was, even though you were standing next to The Emperor himself.
Lady Jessica had to already turn Paul against you. She had to tell him that you had been doing nothing but manipulating him for your own gain. You suddenly realised that you were in deep trouble and you instinctively searched for Feyd-Rautha’s hand to squeeze it. He was your husband, the father of your child, your perfect match made in hell. You had to keep him close, stay with him. Paul was never an option after all. He had been nothing but a game.
“Brother,” you greeted Paul with a nod of your head. “I thought you were dead.”
“You hoped,” Paul fixed you with a smirk.
“No,” you only answered.
“Come here,” he ordered. You felt the eyes of everyone watching intensely, wondering what was really going on. After all, the only people who knew about your unusual connection were Lady Jessica and Feyd-Rautha. Although you were suspecting that the Reverend Mother knew, too.
Feyd’s hand squeezed tighter around yours. He didn’t want you to leave his side. Walking up to Paul meant exposing yourself, you could be easily harmed. And it was not only about you at the moment. You were carrying the Harkonnen heir. The future Baron was growing under your heart.
“Come here,” Paul repeated the order, more harshly now. You let go of Feyd’s hand and walked away, feeling him move uncomfortably. However, he granted you personal freedom to make your own choices. He only watched carefully, like a guard dog that he was.
“I am here, brother,” you announced, standing right in front of Paul, facing him bravely. One of your hands rested on your abdomen.
“I am wiser now,” he told you. “I know that your intentions with me were never pure nor driven by your uncontrollable desires. You planned it all. Calculated.”
You remained silent, keeping your head high. You only heard the whispers of other people, wondering between each other what the conversation was about.
“And despite that knowledge, I must admit, I remain infatuated,” he confessed. “But you’re spoiled for me now. Your stench is one of the Harkonnens.”
“For I am a Harkonnen,” you nodded.
“Apparently, so am I,” he raised an eyebrow and you furrowed yours.
“How is that so?”
“The Baron… The late Baron,” Paul explained. “The one your husband slayed last night. He was my mother’s father.”
Everyone went silent. Those were two secrets that he had revealed – you didn’t want people to know that it was Feyd killing his uncle.
“You might have the Harkonnen blood flowing in your veins, dear brother, but you are no Harkonnen. You’re weak like an Atreides,” you spat out.
“Me? You, dear sister, you are weak. All your power, all your successes, they all only come from the men you have managed to wrap around your pretty little fingers. But you have achieved nothing yourself,” Paul’s jaw clenched as he reminded you with hatred burning through his eyes. “The only thing you actually did was to open your legs for the Harkonnen and carry his spawn,” Paul looked down at your womb with contempt.
There was so much jealousy in him, you spotted. He was not angry at you for manipulating him. He was angry at you for carrying another man’s child. And there was nothing more dangerous than a rejected lover.
Paul grabbed your wrist and pushed your hand away, exposing your swollen abdomen.
“You cannot touch her,” Feyd barked and Paul looked up behind your shoulder to meet your husband’s gaze.
“There he is, my sister’s new pet,” Paul’s words were braver than you expected. No one would dare to speak to Feyd-Rautha like that.
“It’s a nasty thing to be jealous,” your husband spoke. “You see, she is my wife, she lays with me every night. You are nothing but a tossed aside toy who has only been given a taste but never a full meal.”
Paul was right, you suddenly realised. That you held no real power, that it only came from the men you had associated yourself with. Because now they were talking about you as if you were an object.
“Are we here to witness some wicked family drama? Spare me that,” The Emperor’s voice made you all turn your heads to look at him. He was disgusted and annoyed.
“You are here to pay for what you’ve done to our father,” Paul left your side to approach The Emperor and you took the opportunity to hurry back to Feyd. You stood behind him, clinged to his muscular arm, feeling protected by his strong, armoured body.
“Stop your pathetic show, Atreides,” The Emperor smirked. “There is a massed armada in orbit. You’re facing a full invasion.”
“How can you be so sure the Great Houses are here for me? They may be curious to hear my side of the story, don’t you think?” Paul asked him. “I am Paul Atreides, son of Leto Atreides, Duke of Arrakis!”
“He’s a fraud,” Feyd chuckled ironically. “My wife is the Duchess Atreides, I am the Governor of this world.”
“And so it is,” The Emperor nodded. “You’re nothing but a Fremen terrorist.”
“Gurney,” Paul called out the name you recognised. But when you looked at the man, he had no love nor sympathy in his eyes for you. So, you showed none as well.
“My Lord,” Gurney nodded at your brother.
“Send a warning to all ships. If the Great Houses attack, our atomics will obliterate all the spice fields,” Paul threatened.
He was a madman now, you thought as Gurney nodded.
“You’re out of your mind,” The Emperor pointed out what everyone was thinking,
“He’s bluffing,” your husband spoke up as you clinged to his arm even tighter. You had a feeling already how this confrontation would end up like. It was either you and Feyd or Paul. There was no other way. And Paul’s behaviour was worrying. You were starting to suspect he had higher chances of winning than you had been predicting.
He wouldn’t kill you. He still cared for you, perhaps he still craved you. He would never be nice to you, but he’d keep you close, of that you were sure. But he would never let your husband or your child live. And that was the moment when you realised that you didn’t only care about your own self.
You cared about Feyd and you cared about your son. Way more than about your life. You’d rather die alongside them than live a few more decades alongside your brother without them.
“Consider what you’re about to do, Paul Atreides,” The Reverend Mother warned him.
“Silence!” Paul screamed, using The Voice, startling everyone in the process.
It was no secret that this ability was reserved only for the Bene Gesserit. For the women of the order. A man possessing this knowledge was not only dangerous but also extremely powerful.
You were doomed, you thought, covering your abdomen with one of your hands again. Your unborn son was your only hope. The Reverend Mother had mentioned before that he was out of control. The Harkonnen medics had outdone themselves with their genetic manipulations while helping you to create life. His abilities could interfere with Paul’s.
But it was only an unborn baby with its brain not even yet fully developed. You couldn’t possibly count on him to save you. Right?
“Abomination,” The Reverend Mother muttered to herself.
“Message sent, my Lord,” Gurney announced.
“On what authority was this message sent?” You spoke up again, finally gaining the courage although it was easy to do so when you were still hiding behind Feyd. “I am the Duchess Atreides. The leaders of the Great Houses know that, too. They will not listen to the threats of terrorists!”
“As a servant of the Imperium, you will bow at my feet!” The Emperor snapped. Paul’s behaviour was getting out of control.
“Your feet?! You’ll be lucky to keep your head!” Paul yelled at him and walked up to all of you as he took a contemptuous look at Princess Irulan. “I’ll take the hand of your daughter,” he announced and you swallowed thickly at his plan.
So… He did not want to marry you anymore. Perhaps you wouldn’t be as safe as you had suspected before.
“She will remain safe,” Paul’s voice softened as he spoke. “And we will rule together over The Empire. But you…” he looked at The Emperor again. “You have to answer for my father.”
“Do you know why I killed him?” The Emperor squinted his eyes and despite feeling very detached from your family those past few months, you felt a little sting in your heart at the mention of your father.
You realised that now you were standing by the side of a man who was responsible for his death. What a twisted world you lived in. And what twisted things you had been forced to do to survive.
The Emperor approached Paul now as well, they were facing each other and you had to admit that despite his age, he was a brave man to do that. Everyone claimed he was not in his best shape anymore and that was true but the strength of his mind and spirit was still visible.
“Because he was a man who believed in the rules of the heart. But the heart is not meant to rule,” The Emperor explained. “In other words… your father was a weak man.”
You had this conversation before. With the Baron Harkonnen. Late Baron Harkonnen, you remembered. Now your husband was bearing the title. But yes, a few months earlier, in a dark room, you had this conversation with the Baron. You had agreed with him then. And despite the pain in Paul’s eyes, you had a feeling he was agreeing with this, too.
And Paul agreeing with such a statement could only mean that he no longer wanted to play nice. He had discarded your father’s ways and chose the path of violence.
“You will be defeated and your Empire will be mine,” Paul drawled out through gritted teeth before laying his eyes on you and Feyd. “And the cancer of this Empire that is The Harkonnen dynasty will be erased,” he added. “I will tear your spawn out of her body and take your wife as my concubine,” he told your husband. You felt his muscles tensing.
“The only thing you take, will be your death at the end of my blade,” Feyd warned him and took a step ahead, ignoring the way you were clutching onto his arm, trying to make him stay.
“You don’t even have one on you,” Paul pointed out.
“Then spare me a weapon and stand to fight me like a man,” Feyd dared him.
“Accept mine,” The Emperor offered and you stiffened at the realisation that it was not only the blade he was giving your husband but also the fate of the outcome of this day, the fate of the Empire, the fate of his and his daughter’s life. Feyd nodded and you approached him one last time before the duel.
“Do not fail me,” you pleaded harshly.
“You want these to be the last words you tell your husband before his death?” Feyd teased with a smirk. Fearless as usual; he never feared the end of his life. Not in combat at least. He had told you already that this sort of death was everything he had been wishing for. To die like a warrior.
“No,” you shook your head with a nervous smile. “So make sure they won’t be.”
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MASTERLIST
#sansaorgana: Answered#lovely anons#sansaorgana: Requests#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha harkonnen x reader#lilysfiction#austin butler x reader#tttw
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𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐓'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐆𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 ——> 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅
𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐝, 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲.
₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊
₊˚ ୨୧ honestly, Theodore was so happy and proud when you got picked Slytherin by the hat
₊˚ ୨୧ he would've still been happy for you because you're his little sister and he'd be proud regardless of you got another house.
₊˚ ୨୧ but, he won't have to worry about not being able to be there for you when you need it most or if someone is picking on you, etc
₊˚ ୨୧ once his friends found out you're his sister, let alone had one to begin with, they instantly took you under their wing
₊˚ ୨୧ you now have six older brothers and one older sister (pansy).
₊˚ ୨୧ pansy definitely loves doing stuff with you, many sleepovers together
₊˚ ୨୧ I like to also think once you get a bit older maybe 14 or so you also become a huge shit talker from being around them so much, specifically Mattheo and Theo. (You three prob hung out a lot since Matty n him r really close.)
₊˚ ୨୧ he's very overprotective of you, it's sometimes suffocating but you know he just cares and worries about you.
₊˚ ୨୧ if he can't be there to help you or protect you or even watch over you, he'll have one or more of your other brothers to instead, he knows he can trust them.
₊˚ ୨୧ will gladly help you with your studies or homework even if he doesn't study himself. He knows there's some subjects you're not too great at.
₊˚ ୨୧ rather you're a Slytherin or not, he somehow finds a way to check up on you real quick. Always.
₊˚ ୨୧ "hey, wsp kid?" Bruh he's not even in this class??? Or worse when he sends Mattheo or sum to find and check up on you.
₊˚ ୨୧ "hey! Everything alright?" "Yeah? Why?" "Oh, just your brother, sent me here to check on you. See you around, kid!" And ruffles your hair before leaving.
₊˚ ୨୧ yeah, all his friends refer to you as kid, including Theo himself.
₊˚ ୨୧ refuses to let you date any of his friends, though if it came down to it he wouldn't be too mad since he knows them already, yk?
₊˚ ୨୧ draco is always there to snap back at anyone who's rude to you, it's like his sixth sense he just knows when youre in danger dude it's crazy. Defends you the most, corrects you in private.
₊˚ ୨୧ Blaise is pretty cool, y'all just chill, paints and listen to music, small talk here and there. It's just something to do to relax.
₊˚ ୨୧ Mattheo probably gets in the most trouble with you and mischief but will always take the blame if something genuinely bad does happen or if Theo finds out. Y'all are also really close, BSF!!
₊˚ ୨୧ pansy is like an older sister and will always be there when you need her, very funny n nice too.
₊˚ ୨୧ Lorenzo is pretty nice to you as well ofc, he makes sure you're taking care of yourself and check in on you often because he cares about you, he sees you as a cute little sister and just feels this overwhelming sense of protecting you. Brotherly instinct.
#꣑ৎ﹒.₊˚Ꮚ・゜★ deadsnakey's delivery!#theodore nott x you#theodore x reader#theodore nott headcanons#theodore nott x reader#Theodore nott x sibling!reader#harry potter#harry potter au#lorenzo berkshire headcanons#mattheo riddle headcanons#slytherin boys headcanons#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin x reader#slytherin boys imagine#slytherin boys x siblinh!reader#slytherin boys#draco malfoy headcanon#blaise zabini x reader#lorenzo berkshire x reader#mattheo x reader#pansy parkinson Headcanons
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Jikook in bed - Part 1
I am pissed and in a not good way.
Worked over 4 hours writing this post, saved to drafts only for the whole damn thing to just disappear.
Did I mention I am pissed?
Cause I am.
Ok, let me take a breath and try to put down on paper my thoughts, hopefully I will remember some of them. Sob sob.
Jikook in bed.
Who would have thought that I would be writing a post about Jikook in bed?
Please don't answer my rhetorical question, lol.
Who thought after the Jikook drought we got in 2023 that we would be getting this, eh? And yet, here we are. Me losing count of the number of posts I’ve already written about episodes 1 and 2 alone of Are you sure?! And I’m not done yet. And another episode is coming today!!!
Did I mention just how overwhelmed I am? In the very best way. Well, other than being pissed at Tumblr for throwing away my hard work. 😭😭
I’ll be breaking this down into 2 parts because damn it, there is so much to say about these two short clips we get of the two in bed. Both playful. Both sus as shit. If shit is sus – I guess we can ask JM on his thoughts about that – yes I did go there. Poor man is not going to live this down, and now I understand why he kept asking if this could air – not because he was worried about their flirty handsy moments. NOPE. But because of the shit, lol.
Ok, so part 1 will be focusing on the brushing teeth in bed, while part 2 will focus on the handsy cuddly butt wacky master bedroom action.
When watching the whole brushing teeth in bed I had to ask myself a multiple why’s?
Why brush teeth in the bedroom?
Or more so, why in that bedroom?
Why not in the bathroom?
Perhaps because we would see they are both using the master bedroom ensuite?
It’s not that we couldn’t deduce that from the footage, but that would take more looking into, which let’s be real, most army don’t do. They watch it once or twice and many don’t pay attention to the details. A lot of details need us to view the footage multiple times something that most army are not into – they don’t care to find out more. They see the surface, JK and JM being cute, and that’s enough for them to say “oh, they are so brotherly…. Such brotherly love…” without wanting to see anything else.
But if you do look closer you see A LOT.
You see that JM does the tour of the house, showing us 4 bedrooms, first one being a master bedroom with a king size bed and an ensuite he shows us.
An ensuite we later see JK in while preparing to go out shopping.
So yes. They were both using the same bathroom in that huge modern fancy house with 4 bedrooms and obviously more than one bathroom that happened to be the ensuite to the master bedroom.
And perhaps they didn’t want it to be too obvious. Because why use that same bathroom?
*side note: at this point, when JM goes to check on JK there is clearly a staff member in there with them. The way the camera moves the angle of filming changes, it's clear that is not a static camera, unlike the ones we got from the bedrooms and hallway at night and in the morning. It looks like the staff member is using JM's go pro to film that and as JM walks out of the bathroom the camera changes hands and JM has it. And I state this because most of the time there wasn't staff in the house with them. For a lot of the time they had the house to themselves. My educated guess would be that just like we saw they had control over the cameras in the house, could easily turn them on and off (JK with the hallway camera), they were the ones to decide when the staff can join them in the house to film or resume filming.
Another possible reason why we got the bedroom scene would be that they didn’t want to place a camera in the bathroom, which they obviously didn’t. I mean, that bathroom was rather small – you know, as ensuites usually are, and having them both stand there and brush their teeth would be cramped and uncomfortable (we saw that in Sapporo we did have them place that camera for us to see them brush their teeth side by side). Also, obviously they wouldn’t want permanent cameras placed in the bathroom for privacy reasons – duh. Even if they did have control over turning the cameras on and off. In Sapporo it’s clearly a camera they set up themselves, one they could just pick up and take away. They placed it there for the purpose of filming themselves brushing their teeth side by side.
So basically, imo, this whole brushing teeth in the bedroom JK was supposedly sleeping in was a combination of it all.
They wanted us to see them brush their teeth prior to going to sleep. They didn’t want us to see that they were sharing the ensuite bathroom (the bathroom connected to the room JM was sleeping in).
And the cherry to top it all is showing us this is where JK is going to spend the night.
Because that was somehow something they needed to show us.
Unlike the cabin with the one bed, that didn’t ‘allow’ for another option, the two spending the night in the same bed while there are another 3 lovely empty rooms available, would be too much perhaps.
You know, deniability and all.
Makes even more sense seeing this was filmed in July 2023, and the two did not know just yet what lies ahead of them when it comes to their enlistment.
Let’s talk about that for a sec, why don’t we?
Those cameras in the house, they were placed ahead of time. Before the two arrived. I’m talking about the permanent cameras – the ones downstairs, the one in the hallway, the one in JK’s bedroom, the one in the master bedroom.
This was decided ahead of time – that they will not be sharing a bedroom. Not on camera anyway. And this wasn’t their decision!
I don’t think that JM asking while standing in that room whether to sleep together with JK, adding a comment about getting hit was an actual contemplation on his part. I think it was him signalling that it’s definitely an option and perhaps the reason why he won’t be is because of not wanting to get hit. Him doing all of that when JK is there in the room with him (probably going through his luggage which was probably there too – we don’t get to see, but it makes sense seeing how small the other room was and the fact that JK was using the ensuite). We also see JK throw something onto the bed – perhaps a heat pack he took out of that luggage? But he’s there and they leave the room together shortly after.
"Should I sleep next to Jungkook tonight? Will he hit me again?"...
Again, let me be clear here with what I’m saying. JM asking this was a mute question, and he knew it, seeing that they were both well aware of the fact that cameras were already placed in the two bedrooms expecting them not to be sharing that bed. At least not on camera.
And you know where else you see that bemusement about the separate beds?
In the trailer where we get them in Sapporo the two standing in the hotel room JK asking JM which bed he wants to choose. JM’s reaction super telling.
And what about the house in Jeju? Clearly that second bed was brought up from the room downstairs (we know that from the original layout of the house). Yes, Tae was joining. But wouldn’t that be less sus them sharing a bed? We’ve seen them all share beds in previous content. Tae literally shared one with his mates back in 2022. I guess that the idea was to show us that when there is an option they won’t share a bed? That the CT cabin was a ‘must’ as there was only one bed and there was no choice? Strange, seeing that there were other options for cabins that were not 1 shared bed. Well, never mind that. In any case I guess there was need for the deniability, seeing as to how cozy those two were the next day in that one bed in the master bedroom.
Seeing that plus knowing they shared a bed could be construed as too much perhaps.
Btw, you know what that whole scene in bed reminded me of?
Remember that time JK was asked what his favourite memory from their trip to Tokyo?
Remember his answer?
JM staying up until 5 am on his phone and sleeping in the next morning?
Sorry, but that constant smirk on JM's face... to die...
and
Yes Jeon. "He" didn't sleep at night. That's why both of you overslept the next day.
*Side note: at the end of the interview/sit down JM won a gift which guess who was given straight away?
Well, them in bed together there in CT, seeing those few seconds we were allowed to see (with the many cuts) – that is how I picture them in Tokyo on that trip. Those calm almost boring moments in bed together. On their phones. Snuggling. Playing. Just enjoying being next to each other, just the two of them, outside world be damned.
That is what JK loved most in Tokyo. That is what was most memorable to him (our introvert sweetie).
And he got that here as well.
You could argue: "what's the difference here from the two spending time together in bed in Seoul at either of their palaces?" And my answer to that would be:
EVERYTHING.
How can you even compare? Being back in Seoul, with all the playing around their schedules and stress and pressures and anxiety that still linger even when you are home, even when you are together with your loved one. You can't compare it to this. JM taking the time off to be with him. JK taking the couple of days off during his promotions for his first solo debut. Getting away from it all. Spending those 3 days together alone. No work. No stress. No pressure. Even with JK feeling physically off and JM's diarrhea. Just the two of them, away. Away from everything and everyone. Having those tiny every so important soft moments.
Or in layman's words: having a cuddle at home is not the same as having that cuddle when away, taking that time to spend together as a couple. It's just not the same. It's so much more. And that is also why it was so memorable for JK back in 2017.
I’m getting kind of emotional here folks. Don’t mind me.
Let’s get back to the brushing teeth in bed, shall we?
Again, in the second bedroom and not the master, even though it’s the master ensuite they are using as a bathroom!!
Why not see them brush their teeth on the master bed? Yeah, I think I answered that one already. We weren’t supposed to deduct that JK was using the master ensuite.
We were to know that JK was sleeping in that room, we even got to see him go to sleep and wake up there. It was very important that we see that. Not make a mistake that maybe, just maybe, they spent the night together.
What do I think, you ask? I will tell you, even if you didn’t ask, lol.
I think that JK probably did sleep in that bed for a bit. A BIT. Like a really really short bit.
I also think that they spent much time together in that one bed in the master bedroom. They got the pre-sleep cuddles (that we didn’t get to see) and they got the post-sleep cuddles (that we also didn’t get to see – and I’ll get into that in the next post – just saying that JK walking into the room and out of it after he woke up – the first time he goes in and out – there was a HUGE chunk cut out of the footage).
Oh, and they got the post-JK eating crap for breakfast- cuddles too.
This isn’t going the way I wanted it to, lol. I’m talking too much about stuff that is meant for part 2 of Jikook in bed. You see, this is why it is all intertwined and if there wasn’t an issue with image limits or readers losing focus with too long posts this would all be one post. But 'tis what 'tis and I have to stop talking about the master bedroom!!!
So, back to the toothbrushing.
This was them:
JK literally pulling JM down to lie on the bed.
The giggles (oh, what I want to say now and am holding myself back).
Their playfulness is on another level.
Add the legs over shoulder.
After JM laying his legs on JK's shoulders, JK grabbing the legs and pulling JM even closer in.
I love how with Jikook we live on moments that remind us of other moments. And this one kind of reminds me of another moment back from 2019 during rehearsal for the LY concerts, JM coming in behind JK to hold him and JK pulling JM's arm in for an even closer hug.
And we have cuts, of course.
So many of them.
Including this one.
And this one.
The cuts. We should talk about them for a sec.
There is hours and hours of footage, and obviously there are things that are deemed to end up on the editing room floor. Footage that might be boring or irrelevant to whatever it is they want to be showing us. There is also a time constrict that needs to be kept. Understandably not everything can be left in.
But it’s some decisions that make you raise an eyebrow. Some of those editing decisions that make you think – why cut this? Why not leave the flow?
And these moments are exactly those type of moments.
Obviously the fans will go crazy for seeing them be so playful and mucking around. They are brushing their teeth and it’s clear this isn’t something that is going on for too long of a time. So, why not allow us to see the FULL interaction? I think we know the answer to that, don’t we? Once again it’s those two being too much. Too obvious. Too handsy. Too couplie.
How exactly does JK end up with his back to us?
Why is he with his back to us?
Why is the whole scene with JM’s legs hanging over JK’s shoulders cut short?
And why does JK continue to be with his back to us after this has clearly ended and JM is sitting on the edge of the bed?
I kind of think that I know why JK was sitting with his back to us, and why it’s cut at that point and we never get to see them get out of that bed.
Great time to sign off.
See you for part 2 of Jikook in bed.
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