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rollinouttahere-writes · 10 months ago

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Lucky Break Chapter 5

Yandere Straw Hats x Fem!Reader

4.6k words

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A partial night of rest did little for you. Your head was still killing you, and the dreamless, fleeting sleep did nothing to aid in jogging your far away memories.

Nami was kind enough to let you stay in her boat for the rest of night, and you were still on it this morning. You didn't feel confident in your ability to cross boats again now that the wind had picked up and the waters were slightly rougher. The last thing you wanted was to fall into the ocean again right after getting a change of clothes.

You watched with mild amusement as Nami and Luffy bickered about the Grand Line. Well, Nami was bickering. Luffy was dismissing everything.

“How do you expect to so much as make it into the Grand Line as you are? You have no supplies, no ship, and only two people. You're even more insane than I thought you were if you think that's a good idea.” Nami returned her attention to the map in her hands, muttering under her breath about pirates being a nuisance.

Luffy shoved the rest of the apple he was eating into his mouth, core and all. Cyanide poisoning be damned. He did appear to at least be taking her words into consideration, which was an improvement. “Yeah, we're going to have to get some meat before we go.”

You snort at the exasperated look Nami shoots him. Of course that was what he was hung up on. Luffy cooked his head to the side, “And what do you mean I only have two people? There's four of us.”

“I am not a part of your crew, this is just a temporary alliance. I'm not about to sail into the Grand Line with anybody, much less someone as in over their head as you are.” Nami pointed at you, “And Lucky doesn't count. She doesn't even remember her name, what are you expecting her to do?”

“What's that got to do with anything? She doesn't need to remember her name to be my crewmate.”

“She's got a gaping head wound! She needs to see a doctor, not get dragged into the most dangerous place on the planet by a delusional captain!” Nami picked up and chucked an apple at his head. An extremely ineffective attack given that he just opened his mouth and ate it whole like some sort of snake-person.

“Maybe we'll find a doctor on the next island, and then she’ll be good to go.” Luffy perked up, “Are we getting close to one yet? I want to get some food.”

The navigator's eyes flitted back down to the map. She still looked annoyed but answered his question, “Yes, we should be at the Gecko Islands soon.”

Luffy cheered and whirled around on his perch to stare into the distance. You followed his gaze and saw a speck of an island in the distance. Being on solid ground again sounded lovely. The unsteadiness of being on a constantly rocking boat felt extremely unnatural to you. Based on that, you felt safe in assuming that you had never spent a prolonged period of time at sea before this.

And of course, you were looking forward to the possibility of seeing a doctor and having your injury inspected and cared for by a professional. Zoro definitely needed to see a doctor, too, what with his stab wound.

Though, as you glanced at him, he appeared to be entirely unbothered. The only thing that even hinted at what had happened was the hole and bloodstain in his shirt. Other than that, he seemed fine. Shit, maybe he can sleep off stab wounds. If only you could do the same for your injury.

Luffy kicked his legs in excitement as the island drew closer. “We can get supplies here, and maybe even a new ship! Oh! We might even get some new crewmates! We're going to need a cook before we get to the Grand Line. And a musician.”

Having a cook around made sense, though you were more than a little baffled at him prioritizing a musician over a doctor. Well, whatever. He’s the captain, not you. He can recruit whoever he wants, and you’re sure that he will. Especially considering how much he’s been brushing off Nami stating that she isn’t a part of the crew.

The two boats hit sand as you finally make it to the island. You’re at some empty beach far away from the docks. Nami insisted that this would be for the best considering that her ship has Buggy’s jolly roger plastered over the sail. You jump off the ship and help pull them further onto the beach to prevent them from drifting away.

Being on solid land feels just as good as you had expected. The sand has a give to it, of course, but it isn’t constantly rocking back and forth. You stretch as you scan your surroundings. The beach is boxed in by cliffs, with a manmade walkway leading into a lightly packed forest that helps to hide your ships further. Someone would have to go out of their way to find you guys here.

“The village isn’t far from here, right?” Luffy was looking around excitedly, no doubt eager for a chance to stretch his legs. You were, too. The island appears to be normal and peaceful. It’ll be nice to explore a town without a bunch of pirates in it… you guys notwithstanding, of course.

“Yes, it shouldn’t take long to get there,” Nami answered passively while scrutinizing the map in her hands. “I wonder where we could find a ship.”

“We’ll worry about that later. Let’s find a place to eat first!” Luffy was actively drooling as he spoke. You’re not sure how anyone can be so hungry after eating what you’re pretty sure was in the ballpark of twenty apples, but you aren’t about to try and get between him and food.

Nami pushed him out of her face harshly, “Would you stop talking about food for five seconds?!”

Your attention was drawn away from them as you saw movement up on the cliffs. You squint and see several bushes rustling from what you’re assuming is some local wildlife. Zoro unsheaths a sword behind you and steps forward.

“Careful… I think we have company.”

That catches everyone’s attention. Nami tenses and steps back while scanning the forest herself, while Luffy is visibly excited about whoever could possibly be here. To you, Zoro seems to be over reacting. It’s more than likely just some animals running around, you’re not sure why he’s instantly jumping to this being an ambush or something.

Then someone starts shooting at Luffy’s feet. Perhaps Zoro was onto something. He scrambles to get out of the way while Zoro rushes forward to help. Before you even have a chance to react, Nami grabs you by the collar of your shirt and drags you back to the boat before shoving you into it and climbing in beside you to take cover. You cough and gasp as she releases your shirt.

The attack stops, so you and Nami peer over the side of the ship to see what’s going on. Luffy and Zoro appear to be fine, thankfully, but now a bunch of flags are popping out of the bushes. All of them have the same jolly roger on them. Ah. So much for you thinking that this island was pirate-free. You just hope none of them have any weird-ass super powers to contend with.

This display does nothing to intimidate Luffy, who by all accounts seems to be having a grand time watching this. A boy suddenly emerges from behind a tree, looking extremely pleased with himself. Some of the tension leaves your body as you are distracted by the fact that this kid has the longest damn nose you’ve ever seen. You didn’t think that was physically possible. You shake your head, reminding yourself that now is not the time to be getting distracted by appearances.

Long-nose crosses his arms and puffs out his chest proudly. “I am Captain Usopp! Leader of the pirates who reign over this village! I’ll have you know that everyone here fears me as much as they sing my praise! Which is a lot!” He gestures behind himself with a dramatic flare, “Go ahead and forget about attacking this village, it’s under my control! Me and my eighty million subordinates won’t let you get far!”

Eighty… Eighty million? You and Nami share a sideways glance at each other. That seems… a touch far fetched. The island doesn’t appear big enough to hold even one million people, much less eighty million plus the villagers. Now that you think about it, It’s odd that he didn’t name drop his crew. He just called them “the pirates”. You let out a sigh and slump against the boat, relieved that this appears to just be some display rather than a real threat. Nami pinches the bridge of her nose, looking annoyed more than anything, and Zoro puts his sword away with a huff.

Luffy, meanwhile, is star-struck.

“If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable!” Nami calls out to him.

Usopp gasps, stumbling back in shock, “How did you know?!”

Nami rolls her eyes, “And now you’re admitting to it this easily? You’re terrible at this.” She climbs back out of the boat, and you’re quick to follow suit. You glance up the cliff to see Usopp beating himself up for failing miserably at his intimidation attempt.

He whips back around to face all of you again, trying desperately to save face. “Well, maybe I was exaggerating a little bit, but I can assure you that I do have some very powerful men at my disposal!” He points at a cluster of bushes not far from him. Unlike the rest of the flags, the ones coming out of the bushes were moving, implying the presence of at least a few people.

Still, those bushes weren’t particularly huge. You can’t imagine that there were that many people hiding in them. You squint, “What? Like three people?”

The literal second you say this, precisely three people spring out of the bushes looking aghast at your accurate prediction. These “powerful men” looked to be a bunch of kindergarteners, who screamed in terror and ran away immediately while Usopp yelled after them not to leave him here alone. Another impressive victory under your sword-belt, you suppose.

Luffy looks at you in awe, “How did you know?”

All you offer him is a simple shrug and say, “Lucky guess?”

Nami sifts through the sand and pulls out some tiny pellets. She examines them with absolutely no sense of urgency. “Huh. I’ve never seen a pirate captain use a slingshot before.”

Usopp gasps and clutches his chest in offense, “What’s that supposed to mean? Don’t insult me!” He pulls a slingshot from his bag and takes aim at her. Nami stares at him blankly. “I have a lot of pride in my weapon! So much so that people call me ‘Proud Usopp’!”

You’ll give him this much: he doesn’t abandon the bit easily. You call out to him, “By people, do you mean yourself?”

Now Nami’s comment didn’t seem all that bad to him. Usopp changed positions to aim at you instead, “Many people call me that! In fact, they call me ‘Proud Usopp’ more than ‘Captain Usopp’ because they’re that impressed by my pride!” He pulls the leather pad holding another pellet back further. “Behold! You’re about to see that my slingshot skills can put a pistol to shame!”

Given how many other things he’s lied about or exaggerated greatly, you aren’t scared. The pellets that he shot at Luffy had some oomph to them, sure, but comparing them to bullets fired from a gun seems excessive. Getting pelted by some pellets is hardly going to be the worst injury you’ve endured.

Before Usopp can decide if he really wants to fire at you or not, Luffy steps in front of you with the brim of his hat pulled down over his eyes. His voice drops to a surprisingly low tone as he addresses Usopp seriously for the first time, “Now that you’ve drawn your “pistol”, you’ve put your life on the line.”

Both you and Usopp gawk at Luffy. Usopp was clearly scared by the sudden mood shift, and even you felt a chill run down your spine. You’re so used to seeing Luffy be carefree and goofy that hearing him openly threaten someone in a genuinely intimidating fashion has completely thrown you for a loop. On top of that, you feel confused. Nothing about this scenario feels heavy enough to warrant this kind of a response.

“You don’t use those to threaten people.” Luffy makes a show of loudly cracking his knuckles while maintaining intense eye contact with Usopp, who is now looking like he’s really regretting his previous actions.

Zoro grinned and stepped forward, just barely unsheathing a sword, “You’re dealing with real pirates now… Are you prepared for that?”

This is escalating quickly. You lean over to Nami and whisper, “Should we stop them?”

Nami did not share your concern. She examined her nails, barely even sparing you a glance, “No. He’ll lose his nerve before it gets to that.”

For a long, tense moment, there is silence as Usopp is stared down by Luffy and Zoro. Then, just as Nami predicted, he caved. The pellet slipped out of the slingshot and onto the ground. Usopp fell to his knees immediately after, looking thoroughly shaken up from the exchange. His hand clutched his chest as he muttered about how much scarier the words of real pirates are.

Mercifully, the tension dissipated instantly. Luffy dropped the disconcertingly serious look from his face and laughed loudly. “I stole that from Shanks! Your dad is Yassop, right?”

Usopp reels back at that question. “You know Shanks?! Wait- You know my dad?!” He clambers forward, but he isn’t paying attention and tumbles right over the side of the cliff. He rolls the whole way down, landing ass-first at the bottom. You wince, swearing that you felt some of that. The fall does little to deter Usopp, who quickly gets to his feet and stumbles closer to Luffy. “Yassop is my dad, but how did you know that?”

Luffy opens his mouth to answer, then stops abruptly. “I’ll tell you, but you have to take us to the nearest place to get food first.”

The deal was immediately accepted by Usopp, who nodded eagerly, “There’s a tavern not far from here, I’ll show you the way!”

Luffy followed close behind, cheering at the promise of food. How he intended to pay for it, you weren’t entirely sure, but who were you to ruin his excitement? No one else seemed concerned about the financials of this meal, so you suppose you shouldn’t be either.

Zoro casually trails behind Usopp and Luffy, while you and Nami were at the back. You two walked in silence while you mulled over something. This wasn’t the first time you’d heard the name Shanks. You can recall hearing the name thrown around while Luffy was duking it out with the clown-guy… Bucky? Boogie? You shake your head. That doesn’t matter.

Was Shanks someone important? Or was he coming up a lot purely through a series of coincidences? The name wasn’t ringing any bells for you, but given that you couldn’t remember your own name, that really wasn’t saying much. There’s only one way to find out the truth about him.

“Hey, Nami?” You wait for her to glance your way, acknowledging your inquiring tone. “Who’s Shanks?”

Her eyes widened, “You don’t know who Shanks is?”

You raise a hand and tap near your head wound, only to flinch at the pang of pain that shot through your head from that action. Oh, that was stupid.

Nami sighs, “You really don’t remember anything if you don’t even recognize his name.” Her face turns to a sneer, “He’s some bigshot pirate that’s worked his way up to being an emperor.”

The answer only served to confuse you more. “Emperor? What does piracy have to do with being one of those?”

“It’s just a title, he isn’t a literal emperor.” She waves her hand dismissively, “Don’t think about it too much. The less you know about pirates, the better.”

Aren’t you kind of a pirate now? At least by association. Not to mention that you’re traveling with two of them. Something tells you that Nami wouldn’t care for you pointing that out, so you continue to walk beside her in silence.

A large wooden sign with the words “Syrup Village” is sticking out of the ground once you’ve walked through the small forest. The village itself was small and quaint, possessing a sort of rustic charm that made it feel homey even if you've never been here before. Unlike Orange Town, this place was clearly populated. The local villagers milled about, going about their daily routines. It was a pleasant change of pace.

Usopp beckoned all of you into a small tavern. There weren't any customers inside, just an elderly man sitting behind a counter, and what sounds like a small staff in the kitchen.

“I have a lot of influence here. Go on and take a seat, I can handle the rest.” Usopp hurried over to the old man and started giving him some spiel about how you guys were a part of his crew, and thus, deserved only the best. The old man didn't even look up from his newspaper, but was nodding along anyway.

Nami picked out a booth for you all to sit at. Zoro slid in next to her, while you sat at the bench across from them. You glanced over to see Luffy sticking his head into the kitchen, apparently having not listened when Usopp insisted on handling everything. He was demanding an obscene amount of food, more than you thought all of you could reasonably eat in a week, much less one sitting.

As soon as he was done ordering enough food to make it feel like its own lunch rush, he bounded over to your booth and plopped onto the bench next to you, visibly elated. Usopp joined a moment later, dragging over a chair so he could sit at the head of the table.

“So, how do you know my dad?” Usopp was staring at Luffy expectantly.

Luffy perked up, “Oh, right. He was a part of Shanks’ crew, I saw him a lot growing up.”

Usopp's jaw dropped. “He's a part of Shanks’ crew?!” He kicked his legs under the table, a dreamy look on his face, “So that's where he's been.”

You quirked a brow at that statement. He didn't know where his own dad was? Did they never see each other? Or at least talk once in a while? You're surprised he doesn't look more bitter about it. You think that you would be if you were him.

There's a pang in your head, and your eyes go fuzzy for a moment. It's a sharp pain right behind your eyes. You put your face in your hands and massage your temples, trying to will away the pain and cloudy vision.

You're startled slightly when you feel someone lightly kick you under the table. You pull your face from your hands only to find Zoro staring at you questioningly from across the table.

“Everything alright?” His face was casual, so much so that it could be mistaken for disinterested, but it felt like his eyes were staring into you.

“I'm fine, I'm just… hungry.” Complaining about a headache felt childish, so you kept it to yourself. These people are being needlessly kind to you, you don't want to start annoying them and risk making them change their mind.

Zoro stares at you hard, and you get the impression that he doesn't believe you. He sighs and brings a pint of beer up to his mouth, “Well you better eat something quickly before Luffy gets it all.”

Hang on. You look at the table and finally take notice of the drinks and plates of food on it. When did these get here? You thought you only had your head in your hands for a few seconds… how did you not even hear the dishes being set down?

You really need to see a doctor.

A plate of food and some water are slid to you by Zoro, who apparently thought you were taking too long to make a move. You mutter a quiet thanks and gulp down some water before digging into the food. Hopefully having something of substance in your stomach would make you feel better.

Something was tickling at the back of your mind, but not clearly enough for you to make anything of it. The faintest whisper of a voice and a bizarre feeling of empty loneliness hung over you despite being surrounded by people. The responsible thing to do would be to focus on the essence of a memory that was trapped beneath the surface of your mind, begging to come forth. You should be trying to bring it to the front and realize it for what it was. But… apparently the person you're supposed to be isn't one for responsibility. You shove more food into your mouth and push the thought down. That memory didn't feel very pleasant. You try to focus on what’s going on around you instead of that.

The table is lively, unlike your foggy mind. Luffy is happily recounting childhood memories of Yassop while Usopp hangs onto every word of it, completely rapt in the stories. Luffy is also choking down an obscene amount of food at a cornering rate. You're not sure he's even chewing any of it given how fast he keeps going back for more. No wonder Zoro was insistent on you eating sooner rather than later. Another minute of hesitation and you would have been shit out of luck.

Nami finishes the rest of her drink and levels Usopp with a stare, “Say, you wouldn't happen to know where we could get a ship around these parts, would you?”

“A ship?” Usopp hums in thought for a moment, then stiffens up. “I wouldn't know anything about where to get one of those. This is a small village. We don't even have many ships passing through, much less up for grabs.”

“What about the people living in that mansion up on the hill?” Zoro nodded his head in the direction of it. The large home was in clear view from where all of you were seated. “Surely someone in a house like that has at least a few caravels at their disposal. Maybe more.”

Dishes clatter on the table as Usopp abruptly stands up and slams his hands down. “You can't go there!” His shout and sudden mood change startles everyone. Just as quickly as he became upset, his face dropped into a more bashful look. “Oh, would you look at the time! I have very important business to tend to, bye!” And with that, he sprinted out of the building, only reappearing briefly as he sped past the window.

What was that all about?

Nami sighed sharply. “What's got him so worked up? He ran out of here so fast that I just barely managed to grab this,” she held up a small, leather wallet.

“Nami!” You attempted to scold her, but the smug look on her face told you that your words meant nothing.

“What? He said he'd take care of everything, and that includes paying the bill. I'm just ensuring that he keeps his word, that's all.” Nami barely even glances at you before opening it up and counting the money. Based on the way her face contorts, you're guessing that it isn't as much as she was hoping for.

Luffy didn't appear to be even slightly concerned about that. He was happily licking the plates clean. Including yours, which was a little weird, but whatever. Not gonna ruin your day.

When you hear the door to the tavern open again, you don't think much of it. It's not until some little kids storm up to your table wielding wooden toy swords that you decide to pay attention. It dawns on you that these are the same kids you scared away earlier at the beach.

“W-What did you do with our captain?!” The boy with green hair asks the question as if he is already assuming the worst. All of the kids are shaking like chihuahuas while trying to act tough.

“Man, I'm full! That was some really good meat!” Luffy flopped against your shoulder heavily, having apparently finally satiated his massive appetite. The boys stared at him in abject horror.

“Your captain?” Zoro's once neutral face curled up into a surprisingly sinister grin. He leaned forward, making the children almost trip over each other to back away. “We ate him.”

The children grew deathly pale, screamed, then promptly fainted into a heap on the floor.

“Zoro!” You kept switching between looking at the incapacitated children and the swordsman. “Why would you say that?!”

All that he does is chuckle, looking awfully proud of himself for terrorizing some little kids. Luffy is laughing loudly at the whole spectacle, and Nami is staring at both of them incredulously but also not doing anything about it. You huff and climb over Luffy to check on the boys. While they do look horrified, even in their unconscious state, they appear to be fine physically speaking. You glare at Zoro, “That was mean.”

Your attempt at scolding is once again entirely ineffective. He waves his hand dismissively and downs the rest of his pint, “It was just a joke. If they want to be pirates then they should be able to handle it.”

“They’re little kids. They probably want to be something different every week.” There will definitely be a change next week after having a run in with what they believe to be cannibalistic pirates. You crouch down beside them, shaking one of them gently in hopes of waking him up. He starts to stir and cracks open his eyes behind his glasses. He blinks a couple of times, then focuses on you. For a moment, he stares at you dully. Then his eyes snap open wide and he yelps as he scrambles backwards.

“Calm down! I’m not going to hurt you,” you hold up your hands like you’re dealing with a scared animal.

This does nothing to quell his fears. He tries to get to his feet quickly, and you don’t have a chance to warn him before he cracks his head on the table he clearly didn’t realize he was under. Once again, he falls to the floor unconscious.

“Oh, shit!” You curse and scramble over to him, wanting to check and make sure he isn’t now suffering the same kind of brain damage you’ve got. You lift him up to get a better look at his head, when you hear dramatic gasps.

“She’s got Tamanegi! They’re going to eat him next!” The other boys have woken up and are back to hysterics.

“NO! No one is getting eaten!” You glare at your crew that is doing nothing to help and is instead laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “Would one of you help me here?!”

Zoro laughs loudly at your demand, “No, it looks like you’ve got it covered.”

You can’t believe these are the people you’re stuck with.

#lucky break #monkey d luffy #luffy #roronoa zoro #cat burglar nami #one piece nami #usopp #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #yandere one piece #platonic yandere #reader insert #x reader

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asumofwords · 1 year ago

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The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Another day, another slay. Here is the next chapter of Sublet, hehe. I'm so excited for you all to read this, Aemond is such an asshole but god he is so FINEEEE <3 It's a long one... Enjoy! P.s Aemond is listening to this song: Lovers From the Past - Mareux

Chapter 5: Sīkudi Nopāzmi (Seven Hells)

Cregan left yours after you had relaxed for a time, had some breakfast in the quiet of the apartment together, and yet another round of his fingers pressed into your core.

It was, all things considered, a perfect way to start your day.

And whilst you basked in the afterglow of the evening and morning, and the content and joy that your not so subtle friend with benefits brought you, you decided to spend the rest of the day cleaning and tidying the apartment.

You turned on your speaker and let your music play through it loudly as you did a full clean down.

Usually, Helaena and you would spend your Sunday’s doing this together, glasses of wine in hands, or sometimes, if Aegon dropped it over, a nice spliff.

It wasn’t until the late afternoon that Aemond returned.

The kitchen was freshly wiped down, all cups and bowls put away in the cupboard. The lounge and dining you had spent a meticulous amount of time dusting and fluffing, not at all because you had nervous energy racing through you at the thought of his return. You had even had time to change and wash your sheets, putting on a nice smelling candle in the lounge room to really finish the job.

And then, there he was, in all his lean fury, stood in the hallway that you just mopped and vacuumed in his stupid trainers, dressed head to toe in his jogging gear.

He still had his AirPods in.

You were in the lounge room, dressed in an oversized shirt, probably looking crazed as you had been dashing about the apartment in intermittent song and dance as you cleaned, and there he was, back inside and watching you.

You felt a blush spread across your cheeks but swallowed the feeling of shame. Why should you feel any shame at all? It’s your home. He is the one living here. Besides, it's not as though he doesn’t totally have sex himself. It would be complete-

“Wheres you friend?” Aemond asked, eye looking behind you.

You blanched.

So now he was talking to you?

“Went home.”

Aemond hummed, eyebrows lifting before he carried on through the hall, still with his stupid shoes on, and disappeared into Helaena’s room.

What the fuck?

“Take your shoes off at the door!” You called out to him, irritation pulsing through you.

You didn’t want his dirty outside soles all over your nice clean floorboards, and some nerve he had to ignore you and then come back asking questions.

No, ‘Hey, how are you?’

‘Wow, the house looks so clean! Thanks!’

‘How was your day?’

Nada.

You were almost in the right mind to call Helaena and bitch about her brother to her, and beg her to come back, or at least take him from your hands like an unwanted pet.

It was not long after he went to his room that you heard him enter the bathroom, the sound of the shower carrying through the door. You decided to go back into your room and fold your laundry that you had washed and put it away.

Each fold of your clothes you tried to rationalise his behaviour. Tried to make excuses for it even, or explain it all away. But eventually you came to the conclusion that perhaps Helaena just had a soft spot for her brother, and that he was just another breed of Aegon.

Another douchebag.

Your only hope was that there was only a few weeks to go. And if you could survive living in a hostile environment for that, you could survive anything. Besides, Helaena and Daeron seemed pretty keen for you to go to the Keep and see them for a few days, so that was always on the cards.

Or you could stay at Cregan’s if you really needed an out.

You hoped it didn’t come to that.

Gods, how long was he going to be in the bathroom?

You felt sticky from cleaning all day and wanted to shower yourself and get into some pj’s.

Making plans to order some pizza before your shower so that it would arrive when you got out, you walked to the bathroom door and knocked.

He better not have used all the fucking hot water.

To your surprise, Aemond didn’t call out from inside, instead, he opened the door wide, steam curling behind him as he stood in just a towel loosely wrapped around his hips. Water dripped from his wet hair down his bare chest and onto the floor below.

Your mouth felt dry, and you could just see the barest imprint of his-

“Can I help you?”

Your eyes snapped up to his, feeling a deep blush settle on your cheeks and a warmth in your gut.

No.

What the fuck?

He’s an asshole.

Down girl.

Making a point to keep your eyes on his, you stepped back, feeling all too close to the Targaryen man.

“Are you going to be long? I want to take a shower.”

Aemond’s lips twitched in the barest of smirks, “Sure, bunny. I’m done.” And with that, he brushed past you, his damp arm sliding against yours as he made his way to his room and shut the door behind him.

You blinked at the door.

Bunny…

...

He had heard.

Embarrassment creeped through you as you rushed into the steam filled room, almost slipping on the wet tiles and slamming the door shut behind you.

Aemond had heard you and Cregan.

But why did that make a spark of arousal bloom inside of you?

Something was seriously wrong with you.

You quickly ordered your pizza on your phone, paying for it and noting the estimated delivery time.

Stripping off your clothes, you turned on the shower and jumped under the hot spray, letting the water cascade over your face and hair, scrubbing each and every inch of your body, spotting the small bruises that littered it from Cregan. Most of all, the mottling of purple across the flesh of your ass.

You bit your lip as you washed it carefully, enjoying the sting and the memory of his hands.

By the time you got out of the shower and had done your skincare routine, hair being pat dry with your towel, you trudged out of the bathroom in your pj’s and made your way to the kitchen to grab a drink.

The pizza came not too long after, and you frowned at the delivery person as they handed you two boxes of pizza. You were so confused, checking your phone again to see the order, “But I only ordered one?”

The teenager shifted on his feet impatiently, “It was a two for one deal today? You got a pizza for free.”

“Oh. Thank you.” You gave the boy a tip, and turned back inside with two boxes of pizza.

Aemond hadn’t come out of his room since he went in, and well, you had two pizzas, it would be a waste of food if you didn’t offer him some.

Even if he didn’t deserve it.

You walked over to his door, and could hear music playing inside (Lovers From the Past - Mareux). With the pizza boxes balanced in one hand, you lifted the other to knock on the door.

The door stayed unanswered, and so you knocked again, this time hearing a grumble from behind. It swung open, and Aemond stood, hair still slightly damp on his shoulders, clad in only grey sweat pants. He raised a brow at you, eye flicking to the pizza boxes and then back to your face.

You wished he would put on a shirt.

“There was a two for one deal, so there’s a box if you want one.” You explained, then remembering how he thought the snack plate last night was for him, you didn’t want him to think you were going out of your way again, “I didn’t know the deal was a thing. They just dropped two boxes at the door.”

Aemond raised a brow as if to say he didn’t believe you.

You huffed, “Alright. I’ll put it in the fridge then.” You turned on your heel to walk away and heard a chuckle from behind you.

“So grumpy.” He breathed under his breath, just teasing enough for you to hear it.

Your fingers tightened around the boxes as you refused to turn around and marched straight to the lounge room, dropping onto the couch and flicking on the television angrily. You looked at the second box of pizza, and thought about putting it in the fridge for him later.

Fuck it.

He can starve.

At best, he gets salmonella.

Leaving the second box unopened, you curled up on the couch and turned on your favourite show, munching on the hot pizza, the cheese warm and stringy on your tongue. A weight settled beside you, and you turned your head slightly to find Aemond sitting on the couch next you, reaching out to grab his box of pizza to eat.

You tried to not give him any notice, or even sneak a glance at the man, who still sat shirtless beside you, one leg tucked up on the couch as he ate. You bet that if you looked down at his grey sweats you would be able to see the imprint of his-

“Did you clean the apartment?” His voice cut through the air.

You gave him a hum in response.

“You working tomorrow?”

Another question?

You turned to face him, “No. It’s a Sunday tomorrow.”

Aemond took another large bite of his pizza, a long string of cheese being pulled taut by his stretched hand, which he pulled into his mouth with his tongue.

You swallowed thickly.

“How long have you and Craig been together?” Aemond asked, eye on you, tongue darting out to lick any remaining sauce that lingered on his plush lips.

You let out a short huff of a laugh, “It’s Cregan. And we aren’t dating.”

“An ex then?”

Why was he so interested in Cregan?

“No.” You said slowly, “Just a friend. He’s Sara’s brother. Helaena used to date her.”

Aemond hummed in recognition of Sara’s name, but then his lips pursed forward, “Just a friend.” He parroted, a smirk pulled on his lips.

Turning to face the tv, you took another bite of your pizza before swallowing, “Yeah, friend. Do you have any of those?”

The silver haired man laughed quietly, “I have enough.”

You hummed back.

Gods, you sounded like him.

You both continued to eat slowly, letting the sound of the tv surround you for a while longer.

“Seems nice.”

There it was.

You snapped your head to your roommates brother, glaring at him, “He is. Why are you so interested in him?”

Aemond smirked deeply, closing the box of his finished pizza before he stood to put it in the kitchen recycling bin, not answering your question.

You huffed, feeling entirely irritated by the whole scenario.

You watched as he came back out of the kitchen, his gaze on you. Your eyes roamed down his chest, spotting a tattoo on the side of his ribs, some sort of sword. And then your gaze went lower, spotting the tip of an inky black tattoo that sat on his hip bones, the muscles of his V leading down to-

Gods damn him.

Those grey sweats.

What was it about them that you made you so feral?

Sensing your sudden shift, Aemond poked his tongue in his cheek, as if he was debating the next words to come from his mouth. But then they came, and you were left to sit in the lounge room alone with the knowledge of what he knew.

“Goodnight, bunny.”

Fuck.

The next day Aemond’s demeanour seemed to change completely. He left the house before you woke, going for his morning jog as always, and so you got the morning to yourself to have a quiet cup of tea and cigarette at the kitchen window.

The sun was rising to its peak by the time he got back, and you were seated on the bench next to the window, blowing the smoke outside and sipping on your tea. You had expected when you heard the door open that he would retreat to his room as he always did and hide away like a recluse.

But this morning, Aemond surprised you.

Instead of seeing a blur of silver and black down the hallway, Aemond turned to the kitchen, giving you a small purse of his lips in greeting. His hair was tied back in a low bun, though small strands of silver hung around his face. His t-shirt was stuck to his chest in patches from his sweat, and the small black nike shorts he wore revealed the toned muscles of his thighs and calves.

“Morning.”

You blew a puff of smoke out the window, “Morning.”

Aemond stepped in front of you and you tensed, unsure, looking up at his face as he looked down at you. Then in one swift moment, he reached above your head, pulling down a glass from the shelf, hips brushing your knees as he moved to the sink to fill himself a glass of water.

You watched as he brought the glass to his lips and drank deeply, watching the way his throat bobbed and his lips were slightly wet, the cup almost completely empty by the time he took it away, but his eye immediately found yours, catching your shameless appraisal.

“You’re staring, bunny.”

There it was again.

That name.

Something only Cregan called you when you were locked beneath him writhing in pleasure, or on top.

You felt heat rise up your chest, “Don’t call me that.” You frowned, and Aemond smirked, humming before leaving the kitchen.

You jumped off the sill, stubbing the cigarette out on the brickwork outside before dumping your mug in the sink.

You needed to get out of the house. And so you opened your phone to call a friend who you knew you could vent to.

The phone rang three times before the melodic voice of Sara Snow came through the speaker, her Northern accent thick through the phone, “You right?”

“Hey to you too, Sar.”

Despite her and Helaena’s obvious love for each other, and the consistent on-again-off-again game of avoidance the two had, there was no denying that you felt safe and trusted around the woman. It had been a while since you had spent time with her, and the other day was just a reminder of all the good times you have had.

Besides, the rest of your friends were away for the break.

“What do you want?”

You laughed into the phone, “Charming. I don’t know what Helaena sees in you.”

Her chuckle was heard in the back, “It’s definitely not my glowing personality.” She said suggestively.

“Alright enough of that. I’m off limits.”

“Who said you were even on?”

You shook your head, “What are you doing today?”

You heard Sara shuffling in the background of the phone, “Obviously seeing you, considering you’ve called.”

Grinning, you made your way to your room and began to flick through your closet to choose an outfit, “I need a drink. Or three. Maybe five.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Sara teased, “Is my brother the cause of this need to see me? I don’t mind if it is, I love a good bitch.”

You pulled out a slinky black dress, chucking it on your bed as you found some knee high boots to match, “Not Cregan, no. I can’t say much right now about it,” You mumbled into the phone, “But I need to get out of here.”

Sara let out the highest of pitched squeals as she realised who it was that you were trying to escape, “Oh my god, I knew you two would go head to head. Helaena said I was being judgemental. But girl, have you heard their phone calls? The North is warmer than that man.”

“Tell me about it. Anyway, you gonna help me or what?”

“Say less, babe. Meet me in the Silk Lanes.”

You sighed, “Sara we aren’t going to a strip club, it's the middle of the day.”

“You’re a buzz kill. But no, didn’t mean that. There's a new bar that’s opened up on the strip. They have live music sometimes. Cool crowd too.”

You hummed, looking down at the dress, “Fine. What time?”

“See you in an hour!”

She hung up before you could even respond.

You dressed yourself and headed to the bathroom put on some light makeup, do your hair and pair the dress with some nice gold jewellery, including a pair of earrings Helaena had given you a Christmas or two ago.

Grabbing a small bag, you left, not sparing Helaena’s shut door a glance, swiping up your keys and making your way to the train station to go and meet Sara.

The trip wasn’t a long one, and before you knew it you were making your way down to the Silk Lanes, passing strip clubs, brothels, and bars along the way.

It was a cool area that was sure, but at times, more male dominated.

You kept waking, unsure of where you were really going until a low whistle was heard behind you. Spinning around you spotted Sara, who stood in a short halter neck denim dress that hugged her curves, and brown cowboy boots.

She looked hot.

“Damn, Sar. I can see now why Helaena keeps you around.”

Her green-grey eyes roamed over your body, taking in your dress. You spun on the spot, breezing your hands over your hips in a seductive way.

“My brother doesn’t deserve you. You ever get sick of him, I'm sure theres room for a third.” She smirked, looping your arm in hers as she started to lead you down an alleyway, a flickering red sign that read ‘Sīkudi Nopāzmi’ over an old brick wall, and busted green door.

You would have walked straight past it.

You blinked up at the lettering, brows furrowed as you tried to use what basic High Valyrian you had learnt many years ago in High School.

“Seven Hells?” You looked at Sara.

The dark haired woman smirked.

The inside of the bar was dark and dingy, exposed brick walls, low candle light and sultry music playing. The overall vibe was sensual, brooding, and mysterious.

You couldn’t help but think of a man who reminded you of it.

Sara left you at the table to grab you drinks, coming back to place a Porn Star Martini in front of you, small shot of Prosecco placed beside it. You took the Prosecco and drank it back, not wanting it to mix with the sweetness of the martini.

Sara raised a brow as she watched, bringing her dirty martini to her lips to sip.

“So, what has your knickers in a twist?” She twirled the stick of olives with her black fingernails.

You glared at her, sipping the martini again, “I live with a recluse douchebag.”

“That bad, huh?”

You sighed aggressively, finishing your martini and standing to go get another, “I need another one of these before I begin this shit. And you’re going to need one too.”

By the time you had both drunk your fourth martini, you begun to feel the anger roll off of you in slates with every story you spat.

“Class A Asshole.” Sara nodded, laughing at your retelling of his reaction to thinking you had made your plate of snacks for him, “I can’t believe he heard Cregan fuck you.” She threw her head back laughing, and you let yourself laugh too.

“You should have seen him run out the door in the morning, didn’t come back the whole fucking day. But get this,” You leant forward, tipping the rest of your martini into your mouth.

Sara leant on her elbows looking at you, eyes dancing in delight.

As you opened your mouth, two new drinks were placed on the table in front of you by the tall bartender. You both looked up at him confused.

You hadn’t ordered another drink.

The bartender was handsome, hair cut close to his scalp, dark skin, with bright golden eyes that smiled down at you before flicking his head to a table at the far back.

“From that table over there.”

You and Sara looked back, seeing two men who raised their drinks up to you in a salute.

Sara burst into laughter, looking back at you, “Should I tell them they’re not my type?”

You shook your head giggling, “No! I want more free drinks.”

Giving them a coy smile, you raised your drink in salute back.

“Anyway, get this.” You continued your story, sipping the drink as you winked at the men behind you.

Sara’s eyes lit up as she sipped her free martini.

“He keeps calling me bunny.”

Sara’s dark brows pulled at the centre of her forehead, “Bunny?”

You smirked, “It’s what your brother calls me.”

Her face scrunched up, sipping the drink, “Ugh. I don’t want to know.”

You chuckled, “Well its important to the story, so suck it up. Aemond must have heard it, because now he won’t stop calling me bunny. It’s driving me insane.”

Her red lips pulled into a knowing smirk, “Insane, huh?”

“Oh no.”

“I see what’s happening now.”

“Sara.”

“You want to fuck him.”

Shit.

You sipped your martini heavily, not answering the woman in front of you. You were definitely tipsy by now, borderline drunk. You picked up your phone, screen lighting up.

It was already 5pm.

Sara was leant back in her chair, cool smirk on her perfectly lined lips, “I mean, I can’t blame you. There’s a reason they have ancient rumours of the Targaryens being Gods.”

Your eyes widened.

“What? I love Helaena, don’t I?” The words slipped out of her lips before she could take them back, blush creeping on her cheeks.

Now it was your turn to grin.

“Oh no. No. Shut your mouth.” She warned you, skulling the rest of the drink.

Your smirk grew wider, “You love her.”

Sara looked around the bar, trying to find a way out or distraction.

She found none.

“No. We are here to talk about you and your problems, not mine.”

You hummed, the noise reminding you of the silver haired nightmare waiting for you at home, “Fine. But I won’t forget that you just said that.”

Sara rolled her eyes, raising her hand to hail the tall bartender again, ordering the pair of you a final drink.

“We are going to have our last drink. Discuss how you want this hulking, smouldering man to fuck you silly, and then you are going to go home and jump his bones so I don’t have to hear your complaints ever again.”

You opened your mouth widely at her in shock, “You fucking bitch.”

“You love me for the honesty. Besides, Helaena wouldn’t tell you how it is.”

You smiled.

She was right.

Helaena definitely would put more fluff around the words and be sweeter about it, especially since it was her brother.

After finishing your drinks, laughing and talking about Aemond and how he irked you, whilst describing the ways you wished to shut him up by keeping his mouth busy, you both decided to call it a night early with time to have dinner.

You kissed Sara on her cheeks as you walked through the Silk Lanes together and back to the train station. You would be getting the same train, and off at different stations. When it came to yours, Sara was still sitting as you moved to get off.

“Give him Hell, bunny.” She smirked, and you rolled your eyes at her.

The walk home was short, but as you walked, you couldn’t help but think on your friends encouragement.

Why should you let him give you shit?

Why are you letting I’m proverbially piss on his territory?

You had a sudden urge, aided by the drinks, to do as Sara commanded.

The keys missed the door twice before you finally got it in the hole, twisting open the handle and throwing the keys unceremoniously into the dish at the door. You didn’t even bother to take off your shoes as you marched straight to his room.

You didn’t even bother knocking, swinging the door open with a forceful shove, eyes meeting the shocked and almost alarmed one of Aemond.

He sat laid back on the bed, those stupid grey sweats on his defined thighs, the subtle bulge there and prominent in the grey of the cotton. Your eyes roamed his body with no shame, oggling his bare chest again as you felt heat settle in your gut.

There was a singular lamp on beside the bed, and Aemond had a book open in his hand as he looked up at you through his lashes.

He raised a singular brow.

Your hands sat on your hips, immediately feeling defensive, “What?”

Aemond scoffed, “You’re in my room. You tell me, bunny.”

You blushed, “I told you, don’t call me that.”

He sighed, shutting the book in his lap as he leant lazily into the pillows, one long finger stuck between the folds of the pages. Your eyes strayed on it a moment more than they should have.

“What do you want, Y/n?” He sounded bored, impatient, with undertones of annoyance.

But the way he rolled your name off of his tongue sounded more like a purr.

Damn him.

��Come join me.”

Both brows shot up on his face, the scar on his eye crinkling, before they settled again, cool face watching you, “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“No.”

Aemond smirked.

“Forget it.” You snapped, turning around.

You heard the bed behind you shift and the soft padding of feet behind you. Aemond followed you into the lounge room and sat on the couch, legs stretching out onto the coffee table as you tried not to sneer down at him.

“Is this a house meeting?” He joked.

“No. This is a ‘get to fucking know the person you’re living with’ meeting.”

You watched as Aemond’s lips twitched, battling with the smirk that was pulling at them. He pursed them at you instead, and you didn’t know whether or not you wanted to slap him, or bite them.

You crossed your arms against your chest, jutting a hip out, feeling the warmth of all those martinis flowing through your body, “Why do you hate me?”

It was Aemond’s turn to frown, “I don’t hate you.”

“Then why are you such a dick?”

“A dick?”

You hummed back at him, turning to bend over and get a large pot out of the cupboard in front of him. You had drank your fair share, and if you were being honest, you were drunk. Not tipsy like you had thought, and you knew that you had an early morning with work, and needed at least something in your stomach to sober you up.

You made quick work of filling the pot with water, turning your head back to look at Aemond who watched you under a hooded eye.

“What’s your deal anyway?” You twisted back, settling the pot on the stove to boil the water, grabbing a bowl from above.

“My deal?” He parroted again.

You sighed, pulling a packet of instant noodles from the pantry to put the sachet packet in the bowl, “Tall, brooding, ‘devil may care’ attitude. You have this general disdain for everyone around you.”

“Brooding.” Aemond hummed.

“More annoying than anything, really.”

“Hm.”

You rubbed your face roughly, pointing at your bag which had been thrown on the couch when you entered, “Pass me that will you?”

Aemond simply lifted a brow at you, staying in his spot, until you emphasised your pointed hand with a flick of your arm. The man stood, bringing it over to you as you waited for the water to boil.

Digging through your bag you pulled out your cigarettes and rolled one messily. It would do.

You leant out the window and lit the smoke, Aemond watching you amusedly from beside. You took the first drag of the cigarette, giving yourself an immediate head spin.

You shut your eyes and blew out the smoke, a small groan falling from your lips.

“I would like to live under a roof where my patience is not questioned at every moment, and I’m not faced with a living and breathing hermit. It’s hard to believe you’re Helaena’s brother.”

Aemond moved to look down at you, leaning on the opposite end of the window, his long fingers reaching out to you, asking for a drag wordlessly. You looked at his hand, eyes narrowed as you lifted the cigarette to your lips again, ignoring his request, his hand still held out to you.

Persistent asshole.

Blowing the smoke out the window, you gave him the cig, watching as he slowly brought it to his own lips, wrapping around it gently as he inhaled, eye on you the entire time.

You shifted where you stood.

“Maybe you should ask some questions, bunny.” He breathed, holding the smoke in his chest before blowing it out.

“Fuck off.” You snatched the cigarette back from him, your fingers brushing against his.

He was so warm.

Aemond chuckled from deep in his chest, a quiet rumble that was as smooth as silk.

Fuck.

“Well,” He began, looking out the window, “I’m Helaena’s brother.”

“No shit.”

“Well if you’re not going to ask questions-“

“-Will you even answer them?”

He pushed his tongue into his cheek as he thought.

“That's what I thought.” You dumped the lit smoke on the window sill and moved to put the noodles in the pot, stirring it once over, “Can you at least pretend to be civil? If not for me, for Helaena?”

You turned to face him again, your cigarette at his lips as he watched you. He gave you a curt nod.

“Why did you leave Harrenhal?”

The question caught the both of you off guard, and you watched as Aemond retreated into himself, face turning to stone and eye narrowing. He blew the smoke slowly out the window, taking his gaze from you to lean out the sill with both elbows.

The tension floated over the two of you, and you suddenly felt bad for asking. You knew about the break up. Helaena had told you it had been really bad, but still, he didn't need to take it out on you.

You stirred the noodles again, watching them swirl around in a circle before opening your mouth to apologise, but Aemond beat you to it.

“You still got some of that wine?”

You blinked, slowly inhaling, “I have something stronger?”

“Hm.” Was all you got in response as Aemond leant over you, stretching a long arm up to grab a glass.

You ducked down to rifle through the cupboards.

There, at the back, was a bottle of whiskey your ex had left behind. Not at all something you would usually drink, but the bottle alone was worth a small fortune, and so you had kept it.

Small mercy’s, you supposed.

Aemond took the bottle from you, inspecting the label as the edges of his lips tugged down.

“Didn’t take you for a top shelf whiskey girl.”

“You don’t know much about me.” You paused, watching as he uncorked it, grabbing a handful of ice from the freezer to dump into the glass before he poured the amber liquid on top, “It’s not mine.”

“Your friends?” He teased.

“My ex.”

Aemond flicked his eyebrows at you and stirred it once in his hand, moving back to the window to grab the forgotten smoke. The man didn’t reply, opening the floor to you if you wanted to elaborate, and you felt like if you told him a little bit about you, then maybe he would open up.

You turned the stove off, straining the noodles into the bowl, chucking the fork inside, mixing it all together. Bringing the bowl to balance on the windowsill, you curled the fork around some strands, blowing air on it to cool it down.

“Textbook narcissist.” You began, watching as Aemond tilted his head towards you to indicate he was listening, bringing the golden drink to his lips to sip deeply, muscles in his shoulders rippling.

“Caught him cheating on me, and then he had the gall to blame me because I came home early.” You shook your head, “Should have seen him though, face like a smacked ass. Can’t have your cake and eat it too.” You huffed, eating some of your noodles.

“Sounds like a keeper.” Came his smooth reply, taking another sip.

“She thought so. They’re still together.”

You ate your noodles quietly, letting the silence wrap around the two of you. It wasn’t that it was uncomfortable, you just didn’t know what else to say at that time.

Aemond opened the floor again, “Does he have a name?”

“Jason Lannister.”

Aemond turned his whole body towards you, mouth agape, “You dated the ‘Knob from Casterly Rock’?”

You whined, “It was dark times, okay? Character development and all that shit. How do you know him?”

Aemond scoffed, flicking the finished cigarette out the window into the darkness, “Hard to not know him. Always on campus, flouting mummy and daddy’s money.”

You snorted, “That’s rich. You’re literally a descendant of royalty. You own a castle. If anyone has mummy and daddy’s money it’s you.”

It was obvious this was a topic that was a definite no-go-zone for Aemond by the way his face and posture tensed, stomach flexing in the shadows of the kitchen. He threw back the last dregs of the whiskey, putting the glass down harder than what was needed.

“I take it you are making it on your own like Helaena, then?” You treaded carefully, trying to circle away from your comment before.

“I'm sure you'd take it any way you'd like.” His eye was narrowed on you, and the way he spoke made it seem as though he wasn’t talking about your thoughts on the matter.

You swallowed dryly, leaving the last of the noodles to be forgotten.

And then he continued, “I take what is owed to me. But I am not Aegon.”

You hummed in agreement, nodding your head, feeling the pull of sobriety in the back of your mind.

"You know Aegon tried to hit on me once?" You smirked.

Aemond made a noise to suggest he wasn't surprised, eyebrows raising in slight amusement.

"Called me a Gazelle." You mused, "Long legs apparently." You kicked a leg out in show, still clad in the long boots.

Aemond scoffed, "Aegon will say anything to anyone to try and fuck."

"And here I was thinking I was a catch." You teased back.

Aemond stood close to you, and you could smell his cologne, matched with the smell of whatever soap and conditioner that he used. But you couldn’t help but notice the undertones of just him.

Earthy.

Musky.

A large finger tapped on the glass as he looked at you in thought, gold ring on his pinky hitting the side with a tink.

“Harrenhal has nothing for me anymore.” His voice low and deep, as he watched you, “Kings Landing offers more. Finishing my degree. Friends.” His eye roamed up and down your body. Even in your boots, he towered over you, “More.”

You swallowed, feeling your heart begin to race in your chest, heat settling in your gut.

“How so?” It came out as almost a whisper.

Aemond’s eye became half hooded as he looked down at you, humming as his tongue flicked out of his lips as he watched you, wetting the already parted plump flesh, just begging for you to reach up and capture them with your own.

“What are you asking me, bunny?” He asked, voice gravelly, filled with something.

You blinked, “I told you, don’t call me that.” You breathed.

He smirked, “Then what should I call you?” His hand reached out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, the contact sending sparks down your body.

You tried to steel yourself, suddenly sober, “My name.”

Aemond huffed, seeming to come closer to you, “Always so sharp.”

Your breath hitched in your throat.

The silver haired Targaryen hummed again, “I think… it’s all a show this defiance.”

You furrowed your brows, feeling anger begin to crackle in your chest.

“I think,” He leant forward, staring at you intently, “Under all this…” His hand caught the skirt of your dress, rubbing it between his fingers, “You just want to be a good girl, don’t you?”

Your core clenched, and you bit down on your lip to stop the small whimper that wanted to escape your mouth.

The corner of his lips quirked, another satisfied hum rumbling in his chest.

An affirmation that he was right.

And he knew it.

His face came closer to yours, tongue darting out to wet his lips again as he watched you, your thighs rubbing together subtly as you looked up at him.

Heat travelled up and down your spine, his scent surrounding you as he looked at you. The violet of his eye slimmed as his pupil widened, his chest rising and falling jaggedly.

The change in demeanour made your head spin.

Your eyes dropped down to his lips as you breathed jaggedly, and it felt as though a rubber band had been pulled taut between you.

And then, it snapped.

Aemond pulled you forward, a clash of teeth and tongue, the taste of whiskey on his mouth as he curled his tongue to the inside of yours, one hand grabbing your waist to pull you against him, the other, tangling itself in your hair.

You moaned into his mouth, wrapping your hands around his shoulders as sparks of arousal lit up inside of you. A large hand skimmed down your waist and cupped your ass, squeezing it in his large palm as he groaned into your lips, teeth nipping your bottom lip roughly.

You ground against him and mewled, standing on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss, nails digging into the bare skin of his back as you pulled him to you. His hand delved lower, cupping just under your ass beneath your dress, fingers teasing against the line of your underwear. You rolled your hips forward feeling the hardness at the front of his sweats press into your stomach.

"Aemond." You sighed into his mouth.

He grunted, running a finger up your clothed folds, feeling the dampness that had begun to seep into the material. You pulled back, staring up at him, mouth agape and breathless as his finger pressed against your bud from behind, arms wrapping you against him.

His violet eye was swallowed whole by his pupil, iris almost black with lust. His lips were swollen and pink, and a lone strand of hair had fallen away from the perfectly tucked manner he had it behind his ear.

His lips twitched as he looked at you, chest rising and falling, staring at you with nothing but animalistic lust.

It was as if cold water had been doused over you.

This was Helaena’s brother.

What were you doing?

Shame and guilt flooded you in an instant.

You couldn’t step back from where you were, pressed against the bench of the kitchen with him caging you in. All you could do was squeak a small ‘good night’ at the man, ducking beneath his arm who watched in confusion as you all but ran and hid in your room.

Fuck.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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Bold is who I cannot tag

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familyagrestefanblog · 1 year ago

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Rewatching Dark Cupid right after Derision is hilarious because Marinette's behavior towards Kim just does not line up with the backstory at all. Supporting him the way she does when he wants to declare his love for another girl she doesn't even know the name of yet in the beginning:

(I mean, look at this unspeakable trauma reaction here. How can Marinette even manage to stand up in the morning is what I'm asking lol)

She's just acting perfectly normal about it. Excited even. How can you claim that the Derision backstory the way we got it was ALWAYS the plan when you have written Marinette without any actual signs for it for YEARS?

Ironically Marinette is thanks to Derision the LEAST consistent character in all this now while Chloé being a massive bitch about love confessions towards her because she wants Adrien is the MOST consistent characterization between these two episodes.

Those are laughably bad priorities writing wise. S1 MARINETTE doesn't make sense anymore in this regard, and please don't ask me how sad it is in hindsight seeing the Valentine's Day episode have Marinette say that she will confess her love for Adrien, because you as the viewer knows by now that season 5 had André the ice cream man do it for Marinette in the Marichat episode.

And then ADRIEN had to hard core cuddle her into her romantic development for the rest of the season so she can finally at one point say "I love you" after Adrien had to openly and publicly do it and give her the princess treatment FIRST in way too many ways for it to not be sad at this point.

How do you manage that??

How is MARINETTE the character they screwed over the most in this case regarding Derision and Dark Cupid????

#ml spoilers #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #ml season 5 #ml season 1 #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ml Derision #Ml Dark Cupid #Watching Dark Cupid after Derision is wild #because I swear to god the only actually consistent character in the romance stuff is CHLOE

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passionateseadruid · 3 months ago

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Dusk 1 of 5

CW: ANGST!! Like a lot of it. NO COMFORT!! Later chapters will be sweeter. Pls note: I'm going to try to get one chapter out every month but it might be every other month.

Summary:

You are Lucifer’s first and most loyal friend. This is a story deep diving into how you become his second wife and the object of his obsession.

From the first moment I was alive all my thoughts surrounded him. I had no other drive than the will to keep him safe and happy. He was my everything. My love, my light, my Lucifer.

He was beautiful (he still is). But from the first moment she saw him she knew that she never would see Gold hair that rivaled the beautiful gold of the sun, a soft pink colored eyes that made the morning sky seem dull in comparison, a smile that shook the very core of her being, a laugh that was more melodic to her than any orchestra could ever perform or any minstrel could ever compose, he was perfect.

Sure there were others: the brave and intelligent Michael, the wise and protective Gabriel, the compassionate and salubrious Raphael, the empathetic and dutiful Azrael, and the fair and artistic Uriel, but none of them were Lulu, none of them were hers. Lulu was hers because she was his. She was made for him. So obviously they were each other’s.

One could ask themselves what she is and why she was made. The answer is simple, she’s a gester (Because she’s a jester gesture) a type of angel that's made and gifted specifically as entertainment.

Much like the cherubs were made to help with tasks (i.e. helping Gabriel and Uriel send messages, helping Micheal in his guardian angel duties, etc.) and guardian angels were made to protect humans from the ways of sin, gesters were made with the express purpose of keeping their target happy. However our leading lady here is special in two regards. 1, she was the first to ever be made, and 2, she had a secondary function of keeping Lucifer safe above all else.

He jumped into my arms, so excited to meet me for the first time. His hair smelled like cherries. And his little arms just barely wrapped around my frame. The moment I started to develop feelings for him. The moment that I fell for him. We spent every second of every day together. Every new creation of his was a game we played and a story we told. We told stories of dragons and high seas adventures and sometimes I'd tell a scare story so he'd sneak into my bed and cuddle me for closure at night. He thinks I have no idea but I totally do!

...

“What should we call this flower?” Lucifer smiled.

“Rose. It’s the same shade as your eyes after all.” She looked at him like he was the only thing in existence. Like everything and everyone else was supplementary to his majestic nature.

He smiled at her softly as a pale gold dusted his already rosie cheeks. “Thank you.

Lucifer called her over “Look at these creatures!”

“LULU!! DUCK!!” She yelled as the mother bird swooped towards him

“Duck… I like that for thEM!!” She tackled him to the ground, making sure to brace his head.

There he laid under her, him about 130 and her only 120. That right then was the moment she fell in love with him. It was the moment she realized that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

He smiled and laughed at her as she blushed at him.

“S-so you wanted to name these ones duck?”

“Mhm! I do feel bad for this little gray one though… so different from the others.”

"Lulu... I don't think that's a duck."

"Are you sure? This one was with all the other little ducks... duck... duck... duckling! Let's call these baby ducks ducklings!"

"What are you two doing?" Michael asked as he and Azrael floated near you. Michael had blond hair, much like Lucifer but it was styled in a windswept wavey haircut and some long bangs. He had dark blue eyes as well. His face was stoic, bordering on harsh.

Now Azrael had long messy black hair with emo bangs, and silver hair. Azrael smirked and flipped through the air with his black and silver wings.

"Azzie!" Lucifer's little lady ran over and hugged Azrael. Azrael giggled and lifted her off the ground.

"Hey Sunni!" Azrael smiled and nuzzled into the side of her hair.

Michael sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder causing her to look over at him. "You both know that you're not allowed to name the creatures. The heavenly father's creatures "Humans" will be naming them."

She looked at him embarrassed and sadly. "I'm sorry Mikey."

He sighed. "Let's just get you two back home."

Don't get her wrong she did care about the other Arch angels. But they didn't exactly need Gesters. Lucifer was seen as a troublemaker and he needed someone to keep him in line while also keep him from being bored out of his skull 24/7. The others didn't. Michael and Gabriel were always focused on their studies, seemingly having something to prove despite the fact that they were beloved for their philosophical debates. Azrael (Despite being the grim reaper) was quite the social butterfly, though he always knew when to back off from people (Unlike a certain short blond who often (unpurposely) pushed people's buttons). Raphael was a kind soul, a gentle soul, who's always willing to help out when asked. Uriel was a sweet girl who always pushed Lucifer to expand his creativity to new heights. She wants him to challenge himself, and other than his little Gester (and the Heavenly Father) Uriel was the only one who believed that he could do great things if he was given the proper guidance.

Speaking of the other Arch Angels, let's talk about them in a bit more detail. Gabriel had dark blond hair in a short undercut with aqua eyes with some freckles dashed across his face. Raphael had brunette hair that went down to his shoulders and seafoam green eyes. And Uriel who had long platinum hair braided into a fishtail braid and heterochromia, with one golden eye and one being teal.

...

As the years continued to go by Lucifer's loyal little retainer fell more and more in love with him. She loved everything about him. From his soft delicate porcelain skin, to his sweet songs that he composed for her, to even his most gentle hugs that made her feel warm, loved, and safe.

It's funny. I was made to protect him and yet his mere presence is enough to comfort and soothe my soul. His arm that hold he like a gentle rose... they make me feel so safe and secure. Oh sweet lucifer, my love for you so pure. Your lips dance as you sing songs of beauty so chaste and it's all for me. You call for me and I respond to you as I always will. For you are my soulmate! we shall be together forever. I shall be your wife and you my husband, us childhood sweethearts, just as the elders intended. I love you more than anything else in this whole world!

Ah young love. It's a beautiful thing isn't it. Or it would have been...

However Lucifer started to see her less and less as the days went by. This was very distressing for the poor Gester. She had no will outside him, a truly tragic existence. All she wanted was to be with him forever, but now she has to fill her days with something else. So she sought out the company of another. Sweet Azrael.

"Azzie... am I doing this right?" She asked as she flailed one of his scythes around.

He merely laughed at her. "No Sunni." He fixed her hand placement and held his hands over hers as he helped her swing down at an angle. "Like this."

"Azzie?"

"Hm?"

"Why do you call me Sunni?" She looked at him curiously.

"Because you're always so bright, and you radiate joy. Plus your and my brothers relationship reminds my of that and the smallest planet in the humans solar system."

"Pluto?"

"Actually according to this new Seraphim "Sera" or whatever her name was "Pluto shouldn't be a planet because it orbits the sun strangely! And It's too small!" You know who else is different and small?"

"Luci?" She smiled at the thought of her beloved.

"Exactly! My baby brother is small but he's everyone's favorite!"

"Well he is quite beautiful..." She muttered, blushing slightly.

And mine.

Azrael smirked. "What was that?" He almost always made that smug face of his.

Her blush grew. "NOT IMPORTANT!!" She laughed nervously and tried to reroute the conversation. "S-so you were mentioning the smallest plant in the solar system?"

"Oh yeah! Venus... come here I want to show you something!" He takes her over to the edge of the city in the white and golden gates and they look over a terrace at the world down below. "Look it's earth! It's almost night for the humans, and there it is. Venus. You can only see it once the sun has almost completely set. Like the sun is protecting it."

The two angels were looking down at the night sky from a world too far above for anyone to see. Azrael was consumed in the stars and planets but his comrade had other plans. She gently pulled away and traced her fingers along the terrace until she found what she was looking for.

"Humans..."

"Yes. quite fascinating I must say." Gabriel smiled as he joined her.

She jumped at his sudden presence beside her. "Oh! Hi Gabby. How are you doing this fine evening?"

"I'm quite well my dear." He smiled.

"Is what they say about humans true?"

"Hm? Their free will?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"Why yes. Father made them to be completely autonomous. From himself, from us, even from each other."

"What does that mean?" She looked at him confused.

"It means that they get to choose what they do, from what they eat to when they get up to even whether they will obey Father or not." Gabriel explained to her calmly.

She looked at him like he's started speaking a foreign language "You've gone mad! No one's ever betrayed Father before!"

He merely looked down at them. "It's what Father said. The popular thought going around is that once there are enough of the human around they won't even have to like all of each other. Of course we still want them to all live in harmony but they'd get to choose who to spend their time with and when."

The girl by Gabriel's side was fascinated. She had no idea creatures could even do that. She lived her entire life going about whatever orders Lucifer gave to her (so long as they didn't contradict her core programing). but to see them down there... to see them so... free. It was incredible!

...

She decided the next day that she would take her own journey of free will. The elder angels had told her that she and Lucifer would marry when they were over two hundred years old but she couldn't wait that long. She decided to sneak down to earth to set up a grand romantic gesture for him. She found some beautiful metal that reminded her of the golds of their home. She decided to form them into rings so that they could still have something to remind them of each other even when they were apart.

She also decided to cut out some roses for him. Beautiful roses that reminded her of his eyes. She happily skipped towards the exit when she heard rustling in the bushes. She couldn't help but take a peek and found a small grove and saw Lucifer kissing the first woman. She was so beautiful. She was tall and blond and she had these beautiful lilac eyes framed by long dark gorgeous lashes. She was completely naked and happily showed off every curve to Lucifer who had no problem staring. She supposed that she would stare too. After all she was in a sense but mostly at the scene before her.

It broke her inside. Seeing the man she'd been created for, the man she'd been promised to, the man who wrote her all those songs and who'd willingly sought her out for comfort all those years ago, now lusting after another.

Lucifer finally noticed her and she quickly hid the gifts.

"Lulu- Um I mean Lucifer. Can you come here for a second?" She forced a smile on her face.

Lilith glared at you and Lucifer walked over bashfully. "It's not what it looks like! Please don't tell father-" He started to beg quietly as she interrupted him with the gifts.

"Here. These should help woo her. I'm sorry I interrupted your date."

He took the gifts and his eyes sparkled at her before he hugged her.

Oh these arms that once felt so warm now feel foreign to me.

He ran back to Lilith with the gifts, not stopping to question why she had them in the first place.

"Thank you Lulu." Lilith smirked. She was just loud enough for you to hear.

She knew that she was taking everything from you. She saw it on your face, she was happy to. This was a power move. Lucifer was hers, and she was going to make that clear to everyone. She stole your special nickname for the man and was proudly parading it around as he flushed at it. He flushed in a way his loyal little angel never could make him do.

...

We all know what happened next. Lilith is banished from the garden and hid in heaven. Then Eve is made and she gives birth to her twins. Yada yada, apple of knowledge. Yada yada, banished from the garden 2 electric boogaloo.

But then came the fall. The high council of elders, the other Archangels and the Heavenly Father Himself all decided that Lucifer (and Lilith by proxy) were to be punished. The skies were horribly rainy that day. Everything was gloomy as Lucifer's poor Angel was locked in her room as to keep her from interfering in the battle. She cried out for Lucifer as she looked out the window of her room.

"Luci!" She sobbed. "Please don't die... I never even got to tell you that I loved you..." Out the window she saw lightning striking over and over in the distance. it scared her half to death. She pounded her fists against the glass over and over again, until it broke. She pushed out the edges as to not get cut on any of the glass, before she flew towards the location of the lightning strikes.

"Azrael! You don't have to do this!" Lucifer begged.

"You have no odea how wrong you are." Azrael gritted his teeth, as tears fell from his eyes.

Lucifer's eyes softened in relief as he saw his best friend flying towards them. She grabbed Azrael's scythe and flipped him onto his back. "Luci, you go protect Lilith. I'll buy you time." She looked back at him and he nodded. She turned back to Azrael as he summoned another scythe. He sobbed as he looked at her and lunged toward her. She dodged and swung her blade in a circular motion to block his blade when he took at stab at her. His eyes kept flowing with tears and it ripped her heart out to see.

"Why? Why did you betray us?"

In the corner of her eye she saw a flash of blue wiz past her from far above in the sky. "I haven't betrayed you at all. You tried to hit me. I need to protect him, you know that."

Uriel tackled her to the ground. "We know..." Uriel turned toward Azrael. "He's right there! Take the shot Azrael!"

Azrael lined up his blow with Lucifer and charged up. Lucifer's little friend struggled to get free from Azrael's grip, until she finally pushed the Archangel off of her and ran towards Lucifer.

Raphael appeared next to Uriel and yelled "GET OUT OF THE WAY!!" But it was too late...

She turned back towards the group and froze in terror. Azrael’s blow cindered everything in its path, half her face gone… the only thing she could save with the last remnants of her magic was her eye, but in the process it turned as black as the void below them.

“Azzie?” tears stung her eyes. She had never seen his destructive magic before.

“(Y/n)!” He screamed, almost begging her to come back. It wasn’t meant for her… it wasn’t… she jumped in front of him out of instinct he was sure.

She sobbed. “Yuri? Raphy?” She looked to the others, begging for their forgiveness. Not for her, all she’d done was get in the way, but for him. She needed to protect him. Even if he’d never love her the way he loved Lilith… she would give him her life.

A scream was heard from behind her…

The cliffs… MICHAEL!!

She ran toward them. How could she be so stupid? How could she have let him slip by? How could she have not seen Michael pass her? Unless she did…

That flash of blue in the sky!

She ran towards Lucifer as Michael was about to strike, but instead of trying to hit Michael she covered Lucifer and Lilith with her wings resulting in Michael slashing through them by accident.

Gabriel tried to pull her away as Michael stood frozen in fear. She struggled as Gabriel threw her to the ground and tried to push Lucifer off but she staggered in front of Lucifer and pushed him and Lilith to the side. Gabriel ended up pushing her off the cliff and down to the fiery pits lucifer had created.

She fell faster and faster as hot, fat tears of fear streamed down her face. She landed to the ground with a thud. Her body ached, she was sure that if she were human she would most certainly be dead. And as she lay there she saw a rainbow of comets falling above her. More angels falling from the heavens, and she could tell you each one of them.

Her wings were tatern and torn; damage almost to the point of no repair. Her body ached, it felt like her boned were shattering with each movement she made. But then she saw it. A soft rose light, diming into a bright red. Lucifer was falling. She forced herself to get up. She forced herself to walk to where he was. Even if every step felt like walking on miles of nails, broken glass, and Legos. She had to see him again. She had to! She-

His eyes were cold and uncaring. The first thing she saw when she was reunited with him was his glare that had turned a dark red. The look in his eyes wasn't one of hate. Oh but how she wished it was. Hate would mean that she would still hold a place in his heart and mind even if it was caked in malice and vengence. No the way he looked at her was indifference. Apathy pooled in his eyes and in the cut in his chest and the side of his head.

Her heart shattered as he walked off, never turning back. All she could do fall fall to her knees and let the tears sweep down her cheeks as she screamed his name.

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overandundertarot · 2 years ago

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PAC; How can you heal your financial trauma?

Pick a pile (1-5)

*Sorry for any grammatical/spelling errors.

PILE ONE

Cards; 9 of wands reversed, The Devil. Pile one you are worn out. You're tired and exhausted and have been working on something for a while but it's draining you. The situation was not even clear, you were just keeping at it because you didn't know what else to do. "I've always done it this way so I should continue, people have always done it this way so it should work for me too." You've been turned this way and that way and you're mentally exhausted too. This is your trauma. The society you grew up in and the people in your family. There's the energy of always having to work hard to earn money. Struggling for money. You can't allow yourself to rest, and when you break down from the pressure and burden of it all you berate yourself for that too. Advice for you is to give into temptation, allow yourself to be seduced by your inner desires; get to know them, get to understand them and get to know what it feels like to loose yourself to the sensations and not think about anything else at all. If it feels not only exciting and new, but dangerous and downright scary because it's something you've never done before, It's the right thing to break you out of this shell. You need to get to know yourself and who you are instead of the worker bee you've been made to live as. Also something sexual related is coming through, work on your dark feminine, seductive energy. If you are interested in human design you may be a generator or manifesting generator. Inner change and alchemisation. Find out what you like by trial and error; obviously don't do anything too rash/dangerous that you would never be able to recover from. This trauma may also be affecting your relationships(you may have relationship issues) There's such a strong and intense energy(I feel like I cant even breathe) in this pile, I think if you find a away to channel your energy into whatever it is you really want to do, you could be unstopable. Symbolism : Webs; spiderwebs, preying mantis, carnivourous plants, birds, aries, mars, pentagram, occultism, galaxy.

PILE TWO

Cards; The Devil, Knight of Swords. Pile two you often get lost in your head. You find yourself indulging in fantasies and creating this safety net of illusion and comfort meanwhile you're not taking any action. I feel like you may accumulate and hoard business ideas that you see on tiktok/youtube/social media or tell yourself that you can do this and that but never take any tangible action. Gambling addictions and small expenditures that add up, you're not being honest with yourself about your financial situation and money is controlling you so much more that you would think. That's your truama, that money is such a big influence in your world and you don't even know it. You're being hypnotised and controlled by money, its sneakily around the corner influencing your decisions and you don't even know it. Worst of all is that its causing you so much anxiety and you've learnt to just live with it. I'm sorry if I'm being too harsh, but the words have to come out. It's not completely your fault, it only becomes your fault if you're aware of the pattern and choose to ignore it. I'm not getting too much about the source of this trauma but it seems it doesn't even have one exact source. It's more a product of living in the world we are in right now, maybe social media. Do some research about consumerism. Minimalism might also be beneficial for you. Try to discern if you trully want something or you've just been influenced. The way to heal this trauma is to cut through the haze with clarity. It's time to make plans, write down your goals and cut through the illusions to the core of yourself and what really matters to you. It's a time to be logical .There are actions that you have to take that you've been putting off. There's a deep fear inside you of not living up to your dreams/expectations. Take it slowly and start wih small steps. It's like wading through murky muddy water and then suddenly breaking through the water into crisp and cool air. Try to do a cleanse of the uneccessary things that you have let accumulate in your mind or even just clean your home. If you have a goal that feels too big and scary break it down into small steps. You can do so much more than you think you can, and make a bigger impact in your own life than you would ever believe. But you have to start somehwere. Symbolism; clear waters, rivers, lakes, sunflowers, light blue.

PILE THREE

Cards; 10 of cups reversed, 6 of wands. Pile three you have a dream. Something that you've always secretely desired but it just never felt like you could get it. It could be a happy family of your own, innocence in life etc. It feels like you've been the mature one from a young age, someone who had to grow up too fast. You may be an orphan/ lost a parent at a young age or you could have simply had a desire for a family from a young age. A desire for strong emotional connections with people. Your trauma with money is not so much connected with money but other people/ the world in general. You understand that money is a tool that can be used to put you in the right situations to get what you want. You view money as a safety net and may get panicky/ stressed/ emotional when you think you are running out out of it. You may be a man and believe that you cannot find love if you are not financially stable.(specific message). To heal this you have to believe that you can get what you desire even without money. You are someone who is charismatic, energetic, level headed and you have leadership qualities overall. You have to be optimistic in your outlook. You need to shift your perspective to heal your financial trauma. You have to believe that no matter what your financial status, you are deserving of love and affection. Of true connection and whatever it is you may desire. You could have imposter syndrome and over criticise yourself. You need to look in the mirror and have appreciation for who you are , what you have, and what you've made of yourself till now. Symbolism; moustaches(?) , fast paced cities, mountains, cancer(the sign), scorpio, capricorn, clover.

PILE FOUR

Cards; 6 of wands, The Fool reversed. Pile four you may be too arrogant when it comes to money. You may love to overspend and show off to your friends because this pumps up your ego. You feel you deserve nice things and may actually have the background to support your spending habits but this attitude won't help you forever and this is kind of your trauma. How other people perceive you based on your money. You are scared of being taken advantage of based on your money or people misunderstanding you and assuming things about you. You're always aware, always on the lookout. Despite being emotionally secure, other people's opinions and actions still impact your emotions greatly. To be honest, you need to be careful and start managing your finances and planning for your future. It may not always be so assured and abundant for you. To heal this trauma you need to put measures in place. Cultivate a feeling of safety as well as educate yourself in terms of financial matters so you are prepared incase of any windfall. You should also get to know yourself so that you may regulate and curb on your reckless spending habits and also avoid situations that money may not be able to get you out of. You may also be craving true and sincere friendship, and this will come to you as you work on yourself more and go down a path of self development. It may be beneficial to you to get a mentor/someone you can learn from. Symbolism; Gold, glasses, braces, spiders, knifes, eyes, peacocks, green.

PILE FIVE

Cards; Death reversed, 7 of Cups. Pile five you have a tendency to hoard money. Money has become a self fulfilling need for you and it's difficult for you to spend money or exchange it because it only registers as a depletion. As a loss. This is how your trauma shows up for you. It may go so far as you not even spending money on yourself because you feel it's unecessary. For example on something like a parfume or deodorant, or a type of food. Only eating the cheapest foods, wearing your clothes until they're falling apart because you just can't bear the thought of spending money on new ones. What you dont realise is that you are putting money above yourself. Money is more important than you so you would rather deny yourself for the sake of money. To preserve and uphold it. This is an issue with self worth and can permeate more areas of your life than you may think. Are you the type to brush away your problems? "It's not that bad so I can live with it." What you dont realise is that you are making life harder for you, accumulating stress and hardships that are completely unecessary. To heal this trauma you have to acknowledge that you have needs. Your quality of life can improve so much by making small changes; buying clothes that make you feel confident, eating food that delights your senses, using products that make you feel beautiful, fixing something around your house that could make your life so much easier. You dont always have to do things that hard way or deny yourself pleasure just to save some money. Allow yourself to have wants, to express your needs and use money as a tool to enrich your life. Symbolism; Glass bottles, slippers, sunsets, fish.

That's it! Thanks for participating in this pick a card reading. If anything resonated, please dont hesitate to give feedabck it's always so lovely to hear and motivates me quite a lot to continue posting. :)

*The pictures are not mine, I found them on pinterest.

#pick a card #tarot #pick a pile #divination #tarot pick a card #intuitive reading #pac #pick a picture #overandundertarot #pick a card reading #free tarot reading #tarotblr #tarot reading #tarot community #free readings #witchblr

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sorrinslays · 8 months ago

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OKOK SO IDK IF YOU'VE DONE ANY POST LIKE THIS BUT

What do you think a 5 star Sampo would be like? Both in lore/personality, and in design or even kit! Hell, maybe how he is introduced as his 5 star version would be cool to think of too. I want more opinions on this, and the idea of his 5 star version makes me more and more excited

Hello anon!!! So, I have talked about it a bit while reblogging @feroluce's post about 5* Sampo ideas but I don't mind elaborating on my thoughts a bit more.

In that post, the idea of Sampo having a 'stage hand' inspired abilities/design was presented and I fell in love with it, so a lot of my thoughts are inspired by it.

First and foremost, I think he would have the fire element as a five star. I've seen a lot of people wanting him to be Quantum, but honestly it doesn't speak to me. Maybe it's because I'm not a fan of the Quantum element in general, I don't know.

I think fire suits him for a variety of reasons, but most importantly, it creates contrast. I'd like to start by mentioning that fire is eye catching, going against his theme of the stage hand, a background entity. Can you imagine? Aha creating Sampo to be eye catching, giving him powers that are meant to be viewed, admired. Sampo being created to be the center of attention, yet he goes against all that. Preferring to stay in the shadows and watch everything unfold from a distance.

I like to think that his design is dark, full of cool colours and drenched in black, showing that he himself wants to blend in with the background and his element being the exact opposite. Him going against his 'nature' you could say. Against his purpose.

If we want to look a bit deeper we can go two ways. Firstly, fire represents enlightenment, self-awareness, rebirth, and rebellion which (if we follow my headcannon of Sampo being a Creation of Elation turned Emanator) would suit him a lot. Enlightenment when he understood the real meaning behind Elation. Self-awareness showing that he understands what he is, what he wants to achieve and how. Rebirth as in leaving the Masked Fools and their flawed view of Elation. Rebellion because he goes against his Aeon, his creator.

Furthermore, it's be nice to see how a character like Sampo would respond to having Aha as a "parent"/creator. The struggle of sharing an ideology yet trying to distance himself from his creator. His appearance being the complete opposite of his powers would be a cool way to show how he resists Aha's view of Elation.

As for his playable path... I want to keep him Nihility. The path of IX is very similar to the Elation at it's core. Both believe that the universe has no meaning, THEY just respond to it differently. Where IX does nothing because there's no point in doing anything, Aha acts in a way that would entertain only THEMSELVES.

Alternatively, it'd be nice if Hoyo made the Elation a playable path only for Sampo's 5* design. It'd be mad funny but also on theme with how meme-y hsr really is.

Now, for his clothing. Like mentioned previously cool tones and dark clothing is the way to go. But, to elaborate more on that I think there's specific parts of his original 4* design that I would like to keep, like his jacket that looks like a ring leader's jacket, just in a different colour and with other accessories/details.

The snake symbolism should stay as well, I think. It's be nice that instead of snake bones it would be leather and shit, to show that it's "alive", that he's back to being an active Emanator.

I also really like the idea of him having two sets on hands that at his fingertips end in different colours that was proposed by the original post I linked earlier. The first set fading to white and the second to black showing how one set is pulling the strings in the background while the other is the one everyone sees.

I think his mask should rest on top of his head like Sparkle's, a plain red thing contrasting with his blue hair and dark clothing, another contrast to Aha.

Personality-wise I think he would be pretty much the same, expect less greedy and money-driven. I don't know, I feel like that's a part of Sampo Koski's personality, not his, if that makes sense.

If you want a bit more on how 5* could work in my mind in the story I recommend you read my post on Gepard's role in the story, although it's mostly about Gepard I managed to sneak in a few thoughts on Emanator Sampo because of course I did

#either way I recommend reading both posts I linked to get a better idea of what I'm talking about #since I also went into detail about the kit I imagine he would have and his 5* status in the story there #thank you again anon!!!#I love yapping about my pookie <3 #feel free to ask me anything!#I love answering #sampo koski #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr sampo #Emanator Sampo

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danwhobrowses · 9 days ago

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Okay I've had a sleep, I've seen a lot of what the fandom has to say and I'm gonna just talk about my thoughts on the episode 118 stuff in more detail too.

Spoilers under the cut and it's a little bit (5 paras and a tl/dr at the bottom) long

I have never liked the Release Predathos option, but it had been very apparent - since probably as far back as the vorbing - that Matt had been pushing the narrative towards that option whether Bells Hells wanted it or not. The lack of alternatives provided meant that yes, the Hells had little choice but to deal with Predathos themselves; Ludinus was likely not dead, they were low on strength and resources even after a short rest to fight another full-strength Ludinus, and even if they caved in the core and killed Ludinus again someone else would've tried to come and release Predathos. On that I can't really fault the cast for playing ball with the DM and I can't say what the characters are doing is out of character or with bad intentions, it simply annoys me how close we were to entertaining the idea that should've been discussed earlier of putting Predathos somewhere nobody can get to. Objectively it was still a terrible idea, one that even in delivery could've been better prepared with Imogen not in range of the two saving throw buffs or having any Inspiration as she took on Predathos knowing from previous experience that a wisdom save is likely to be involved. But again, the alternatives offered up to them are sparse, nothing else in the narrative had offered a clear solution and if something did suddenly come up it would've felt too much like a deus ex machina. The Hells are not doing this because they want to do Ludinus' plan, but doing so is by proxy doing Ludinus' plan, and thus the problem as of current lies in the Plot.

Right now, they're at a very high risk of the plot not justifying a story, because why did we have this campaign if the outcome is gonna be the same? If the plan is to reset Exandria why didn't we have C3 in the post-reset era and trickle in what happened as lore? Bells Hells have often lacked agency when it came to the Predathos portions of the campaign, but even when they took agency to try and be more than what they were made to be they found themselves punished or being withheld the catharsis they needed to grow. Regardless, the plot is currently failing the characters, and thus the characters are failing the audience - to the point where some in the fandom now want them all to die or for Braius to betray them all - because we the audience don't see the appeal of the direction.

There is a caveat though: it's not yet over. We expect that there will be a fight between the Hells and Predathos!Imogen (we need a name for that) and possibly Ludinus swooping in with the harness to try and steal a victory, but that does mean that the theatre of imagination can come into play in dealing with Predathos itself. There is of course uncertainty whether Predathos can die, since Vecna at 0hp would've just discorporated them for a bit, but there are a lot more options for the Hells to entertain now than there was at 118, including having to kill the vessel - be it Imogen or transferring it to another like Ludinus or Liliana, being able to expel Predathos from Imogen and entrapping/banishing/killing it with the knowledge that yeah that was a terrible idea, or somehow having Imogen suppress it and remain control over herself (and hope that the same rule doesn't apply to her as it does with Delilah being free when Laudna dies), which all can involve exciting twists and turns and creative solutions befitting of a conclusion. In that hope is the opening for a more exciting and satisfying end, and while the plot has had rightful criticisms a good ending can make up for them just as much as a bad ending can ruin a good plot.

So in short; I don't like that Imogen did that, but I know why she did it. And why she did it is more the plot's fault because we never saw it as a good idea, just the only decision that was pushed to be made. There's hope though, and all is not lost, but the plot as well as the characters are gonna have to earn it.

#critical role #cr spoilers #c3 spoilers #c3e118 #bells hells #predathos #ludinus da'leth #matt mercer #imogen temult #I don't wanna be too mean to Matt because he's great and it's not at all easy but sadly mistakes were made #I appreciate him trying to make C3 different from C2 but the characters still need to character #the stuff we wanted focus on more were lacking - none of the main villains had layered backstories for instance #even Ludie was just 'my family died in a warzone in the Calamity' which like 90% of Calamity survivors also have #I don't like this Ruidusborn retcon either because if any could be a vessel why have Exaltants? Did Ludie/Weave Mind honestly not try?#feels more like a messy justification for Fearne/other non-exaltants as vessels but also makes Exaltant Fury even more of a hasty power-up #between Imogen Swordgate and Braius I don't wanna hear anyone give Ashton shit about the shard unless they do the same to them #118 had some great moments still but that final hour just left a sour taste that's overpowering the rest #the one catharsis of killing Ludinus was quickly revoked which stung - if we left him in a Force Cage and went in what'd be different?#my main hope ofc is that the Hells survive and save Imogen but I also want them to rip Predathos out of her and kill/banish it #Ludie2 (Twodinus) or Liliana may get involved & I'm wary of the Matron's mask but as I've said: it can't be set free but it can't stay here #I also never liked the idea of getting rid of the gods - they can stay just new rules need to be made and a new dynamic between mortals #I'm sure that even Ashton and Dorian can be negotiated into a compromise like that - I didn't disagree with what the former said last ep #Exandria has to change; since the discourse has proven that the status quo is too flawed and makes more like the Vanguard in its neglect #think the cast don't really want the gods to go either but this campaign - and the world - does not need more 'doomed by the narrative'-ism

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abhainnwhump · 6 months ago

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Hello! I know you have your own life, but I want to make sure you are ok!

Hi. Thank you for asking. Unfortunately, I'm not.

I'm sorry I haven't updated in a month, I've had no motivation to. I'm not sure if I even will because of how toxic the internet and fandom has become. I've thought about it all month and Jakei's departure was the final nail in the coffin. For my general whump fans who don't know, Jakei is the creator of Underverse, my biggest inspiration, discontinued the project due to harassment for frankly petty drama. She didn't deserve it and screw everyone who harassed her.

The last two chapters would've been an epilogue and a bonus chapter. The epilogue is about Nightmare and Ribbon's life 4 years in the future. They have a daughter, Aurora, and Nightmare has almost full control of the multiverse. Nightmare has a meeting with Dream regarding the rescue group Core Frisk started. Dream attempts to snap out of mind control and tries to attack Ribbon and Aurora, but Nightmare stops him. He sends Ribbon and Aurora to the dollhouse Ribbon made out of the Star Sanses' base. Blue is there with a prisoner that annoyed him, bringing him to Ribbon to take care of. Ribbon gets excited and has a tea party with the prisoner. The catch is the tea is poisoned and Ribbon brutally transforms him into a fluffy plush owl. He adds it to his collection and spends the rest of the time hanging out with Blue.

The bonus chapter is about two stories. One is the creation of Aurora and the other is about Core Frisk and how they're handling the apocalypse. Nightmare still wants an heir even if Ribbon is unsure and nervous about the process. He pressures him into it and Ribbon agrees. It's Horror's birthday and after the celebrations, Nightmsre takes Ribbon away to perform the spell. Later, the little soul (literally) is raised on a pillow. Ribbon spends all his time taking care of it like a good totally not brainwashed housewife would do.

Meanwhile, Core Frisk sent a team out for a rescue mission and had to step in and help after being overwhelmed by infected monsters. They manage to get away but Core notices Underfell Sans trying to hide something. They force Fell to hand over their arm to reveal it's scratched and infected. Core quickly amputates it so he's safe. Then they have an encounter with Epic, who sent the monsters in their direction in the first place for a "fun little trap".

The toxicity is not an Undertale/ UTMV fandom only issue, rather I see it in nearly every fandom now. A bunch of entitled purity "activists" with nothing better to do them stir up drama and add politics into everything. Even the non-fandom art community feels like one big game of king of the hill. It feels like most of them are only artists for attention and mainly focus on ripping down as many artists as possible.

It's gotten to the point where I don't feel safe putting my name on anything in fear of being a target. I don't want to make a mistake and then get threatened to be killed with broken glass 5 years later. Especially when I write dark subject matter.

I'm probably going to delete all my social media accounts and only post AO3 fanfics anonymously. Will they still be UTMV? Maybe. I still want to write that Kid Icarus: Uprising sequel. The bonus part about that fandom is that there's like 12 people that still know that game exists. I also want to write my original novels, but again, I fear putting my name out there in the world.

Thank you so much for everything who read IMYM and my general whump stories and prompts. Again, I'm sorry.

#IMYM #not whump #undertale au fandom #fandom culture #underverse #whump community #asks

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galaxyhanart · 8 months ago

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HI IM HYPERFIXATING ON THE CABINET MAN AU I HABE QWESTIONS

1: How does Garm fit into everything? Does he see Jay? If so, what does he think about him?

2: Does Jay have top surgery scars? 👀

3: Since Kai is pretty untrustworthy sometimes when meeting new people, what does he think of Jay at first?

4: WHY IS JAY SO HECKIN CUTE AAAHHHH (more of a statement more then anything)

5: Do you mind if I take some inspiration from this AU for my Ninjago inspired story? (Like a whole "og gang finds a guy who has powers and they take him in" kinda thing)

6: What do Scott and Racer 7 (I think that's her name) think of Jay?

Drink some water and take care of yourself bestie, love your art! 🤲❤ (Btw here's my cat)

WAHHHHH THIS IS SO SWEET AAH THANK YOU!!!!!!

Sensei Garm is dead by the time Jay arrives in the picture, so when SoG comes along he's pretty confused. He doesn't have a personal connection to Garmadon like the rest of the group does, so he's actually the one with his head screwed on the most about taking him out and being wary of him. Overall though it's pretty much the same as how canon Jay acts about Garmadon. Meanwhile Garmadon's just kind of baffled that Jay exists at all since he was missing for so long

2. Yes he does! They stay after the game but they're not yellow anymore they're average scar colors

3. Kai and Jay have a lot of tension throughout the whole AU! Their dynamic is so interesting to me and I like to explore it in the au. Kai is SUPER distrustful of Jay and they take a while to warm up to each other. On the flip side, something that happens that absolutely SHATTERS Jay's trust in Kai for a while. Their relationship is super important to me so I'm excited to develop it more!!

4. WAHHHHH THAT'S SO SWEET THANK YOUUUU HEHHEHE i love drawing him all the time he rotates in my brain

5. OH MY GOD YES FEEL FREE???? I think the idea that one of the core ninja are missing are SO FASCINATING to play with and changes the character dynamics so much

6. Scott and Jay are super close!! Jay often goes to Scott for advice and help with things, even outside the game! They remain very close :D Racer 7 and Jay didn't interact much inside the game but they both respect each other and Racer 7 is super grateful to Jay for helping everyone leave the game

THIS ASK IS SO SO SWEET I've been staying super hydrated and your cat is SO ADORABLE AAAAAA

I haven't been able to work on the au for a bit now but it means the world to me that people still like it!! Now that I'm getting used to having a job and the college burnout is waning I'm stepping back into fanart and stuff so 👀 I have a sideblog @spinjitsuburst where I post just ninjago stuff and i've talked about Cabinet Man there too if you want any more content!!

#ninjago #lego ninjago #cabinet man au #jay #jay walker #prime empire #galaxyhantalks #ask

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goodmorgan · 2 years ago

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I've been on vacation for the past few days and I haven't been able to complete the newest chapter of my fic Perfect Strangers. It's kind of a long one so it'll take a while. So here is the beginning of the chapter to read until then!

Perfect Strangers: Intro to Chapter 6

Previous Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Word Count: 2.3K

Tags: 18+. MDNI. NSFW. Smut, Porn With Plot, Mutual Pining, Infidelity, Mutual Masturbation, Penetration, Cowgirl, very much a WIP!!

A/N: Arthur is getting a little possessive...

You've never been on top before. None of your past lovers ever thought of letting you take charge, much less suggest you actually do it. So when Arthur asked if you could, it took you very much by surprise.

"Think you can handle it, missy? Hmm?" His eyes glimmer with a devilish spark as he invites you into his lap, his back leaned against the headboard of your bed. He squeezes the inside of your thigh in encouragement as you kneel by his flank.

"I think so." You hesitate, unsure if you'll be able to please him in a position you have no experience in. But then you look at his lustful eager eyes and you know you'll never be able to say no. And you have to admit, the idea of riding him has you pretty aroused yourself.

"Come on. I'll help ya."

His back temporarily leaves his rest as his hands reach the side of your waist, guiding you up as you climb over his legs, sitting atop his strong bulky thighs. Your core settles right in front of his fully hard cock, now slicked with his precum as it lies on his stomach, impatient for more after you've spent the last few minutes stroking it. You feel yourself twitching uncomfortably with titillation at the thought of taking it all in.

He removes one hand from you to catch the base of his member, tilting it up, ready for you to mount. "No need to rush, darling. Take your time." He means to put you at ease despite his obvious excitement as the mischief in his smile deepens, the tip of his tongue sneaking out, making you even more eager to start.

You settle your hands on top of his chest, pressing down for support as you raise your rear, angling your entrance above the tip of his cock as you kneel again. Arthur's hand tightens as you hover above him and soon enough you feel him prodding between your folds. You look at him to ask if you can go ahead.

"Easy does it, darling." His thumb caresses the side of your belly to relax you, but you feel his cock shift below you in ardent anticipation.

You move slightly downwards, enough to feel his member peek inside, stretching your opening to make your breath hitch. Arthur removes the hand from his cock, aiding you in your lowering motion with both hands on your hips, supporting your weight so you don't plunge too fast. Inch by inch you lower yourself as you take all of him inside you, your walls stretching in welcomed gratification. Both of you emit soft grunts of pleasure as Arthur's chest vibrates under your fidgety hands. You try to keep your eyes on each other as they flutter from the delightful feeling of carnal intimacy.

Your buttocks finally rest against his thighs when he finally fills you to the hilt. "Oh, fuck, missy." He grabs your ass greedily, as if to reward you for sheathing him inside you, his eyes darting to where your bodies meet. You peer down as you see your soft curls now tangled conspicuously with his. "Don't think I'll ever get used to you taking me like this."

You try to adjust to his large size as you coat him with the wetness he pried from you while fingering you earlier. You mirror his cheeky but sweet smile. "Maybe we just gotta practice a little more."

He chuckles as your hands move aimlessly all over his chest, warming him up before you move. His fingers lightly squeeze your behind to do the same. "I reckon we should. I doubt I'll ever get used to it though."

"Won't hurt to try." Your fingertips brush the area of his nipples. "I'm willing if you are."

"Yeah?" He raises a hand to your face to caress the side of your cheek with his thumb, biting down on his own lip. "Wanna show me how willing you are?"

He's ready to start when you are.

You rush your hands to the sides of his navel, moving your thumbs to pet the area below, twirling some of the black hairs you saw before. The teasing is enough to make the member inside you move and suddenly all you want to do is to countermove. "Seems I'm not the only one willing, am I?"

The first roll of your hips is barely visible but both of you feel it as his cock shifts gently against your walls, a satisfying taste of what's to come. He gets hungry for more as he lowers his hand to join the other, now blending his fingers with the curve of your hips. You take the chance to move them again, this time more noticeably as your folds almost touch the knuckles of your fingers, still skimming the sensitive skin of his groin.

It's the loud exhale he gives you that makes you start to lose your shyness, wanting to hear the sweet noises he makes for you over and over again, even if it's at the expense of your poise. You move your waist more forcefully, nudging yourself closer to his stomach, making you both puff out in delight. Each drag of your hips comes slow and gentle, but you can feel the gradual build of the fire in your core as you try to resist the urge to go too fast too soon.

"That's it, missy. You got it." His fingers press against your soft flesh as he assists your back-and-forth movements, the lechery of his eyes intensifying. "Keep going like that for me, angel."

His encouraging words only enflame your state of yearning, so you pick up the pace a little, moving your hands up to flatten them on his chest. As you move to the new angle, you fortuitously brush your clit against his pubic bone, the feeling so sublime you let out a whine of surprise and elation. You have no choice but to repeat it again, the result only more divine as you let your mouth hang.

"You like that, huh?" He grabs you more vigorously as you start to grind him wantonly.

You look into his eyes again, unsure if this is what he had planned when he asked you to be on top, wondering if he's enjoying it. "This ok?"

"Oh, it's perfect, missy." He lifts himself up to plant an affectionate kiss on your lips, his gaze even darker now. "Take what you need, darling."

His approval is all you need to move your hands even higher, clutching hungrily at his shoulders as your sensitive nub lies even flatter against his skin, the rubbing now so intense it keeps you from staying silent and cogent. You revel in your all-encompassing passion as you feel your walls fluttering against his own responsive arousal, filling you with the overwhelming sense that you are getting closer to the brink of endless wonder.

"Keep going, sweetheart. Almost there."

Arthur's sweet encouragement brings you back to a surprising state of awareness. You've only been intimate a few times, but they seem to have been enough for Arthur to learn when you're reaching your edge, aware of the effect his coaxing words have on you, prying a release from you every single time. Even when it's his choice of position, he still helps you rut yourself over him, making sure you chase your pleasure to completion first.

You must have slowed down your movements as he's compelled to spur you on. "Don't stop, missy. Not now. Keep going." His hands shove your weight forward to pick up the pace again. "Be my good girl and come around me." His wish is your command as you start to move unrestrained against him, your eyes closing shut as delectation devours you. "Come on. Need you to do this. Need to feel you, angel." His fingers bury themselves on your hips as he pushes you over the brink of deliverance. "Let me feel you feel good."

Your climax is heaven on earth as you arch back into the air, your head tilting back in victorious ecstasy as it hangs dreamily on cloud nine. In a thrilling change of pace, you soar up rather than sink your pleasure into the constriction of a worn-out mattress or the bumpy surface of a bale of hay. The only thing anchoring you is the firm build of Arthur between your thighs.

Your hands leave Arthur's shoulders to an aimless destination as you feel his own reach for your back, helping you ride your wave of pleasure, placing soft conciliatory kisses around your chest. Low soft grunts still leave your slack mouth when you slowly open your eyes, feeling your chest puff against an obstruction. When you look down, you see Arthur's face buried between your breasts, sucking gently at your damp skin. You take the opportunity to rest your head against his, feeling him hum with appreciation as he wraps you tightly in his arms.

It's a while before he comes up for air and even then he chooses to kiss your lips instead, his tongue still wet from nuzzling your bosom, hurried inside without ceremony. Rather than letting you come down from your high, it sustains itself with the extension of his enveloping kiss, making you tangle yourself against him in pure bliss.

"That was great, missy." His face slants to look up at yours as elated as you are, drunk on your own rapture as if it were his.

You take the chance to move slightly as you resettle on his lap, your core still sensitive as you brush against him. His member still pulses inside you and you're reminded of the pleasure you still have to bestow him. "It ain't over yet, cowboy." You push his shoulders to make him lean back against the bed, feeling very little resistance as he realizes it's his turn now, giving him a peck on his lips when he settles. "Show me what you had in mind."

His face turns somber, his eyes grow darker and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows your words, preparing to quell the overbearing lust running through his veins. His hands move to their previous place on your hips before you cover them with your own, encouraging him to move you however he desires. You feel the ridge of his knuckles shift as his fingers begin to knead your bruising flesh, his grip tightening as he finally starts to roll you against him. It's not long before your speed hastens and your pulse quickens again, needing to brace yourself on his shoulders, allowing close contact between your loose lips.

"Christ, missy. You're so good to me. You know that?" The meshing of your hips turns noisier by the second as they begin to slam into each other, his hands now directing you in up-and-down thrusts. "I oughta keep ya all to myself."

His member slides easily in and out of you with the blend of your fluids, his release approaching as he repeatedly hits your magical spot, both of you panting from renewed exhilaration.

Arthur keeps his eyes on you as if he's realizing something, you practically see a question form with the furrow of his brow. Suddenly he slows you down, limiting your thrusts without stopping them entirely. You know he's about to ask you something important if he's delaying his own release for it.

"You sleeping with anyone else?"

The question catches you by surprise, but you're quick to reply. "No."

It's the truth. You haven't slept with your husband in months and, when you did, there was nothing about it that was enjoyable or sensual. The last time was a brief tussle to get him off before he left for Annesburg, one where you didn't even pant and he didn't care if you did. You remember vividly feeling empty as he filled you up, the cracks on the ceiling as exciting as his thrusts. Just another passionless night with another heartless man in a list of too many few.

Now that you think about it, nothing can compare to what has happened between you and Arthur in the past few days. Not even close.

Your negative answer earns a purr of satisfaction from him, reaching for your chin with his fingers to pull you in. "Good. Keep it that way, yeah?"

You nod in agreement as you lean into his mouth, his tongue prodding yours to seal your vow of exclusivity as you surrender to the man who wants you all to himself, burying himself deeper within you.

His hands go back to your hips before they settle on your rear, grabbing hungrily as you both resume your lascivious pounding, the feeling intensified by the unceremonious binding of your union. Your breasts bounce wildly in front of him, earning his undisputed attention as he tries to land his lips on them. He stops when he begins to grunt disorderly, leaning his head against the headboard as he prepares to finish.

"Need you to rise, missy. I'm gonna-" He bites down on his lip, his teeth sinking hard as his hands promptly clasp your hips with all the will still left in him, with enough force to remove you from his cock, sitting you on top of his clenching thighs. He manages to stroke himself a few times before the white ropes erupt as he directs them to his stomach, his whole body trembling beneath yours. An earthquake of a deeply satisfied man.

He pants as he opens his eyes, his hands caressing your shoulders as he propels you forward to his kiss.

"So good to me.”

Your breasts dance against the sinful cadence of his heaving chest, his words reverberating close to your beating heart.

“And only me."

Your first ride on top was one to remember.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan smut #goodmorgan #perfect strangers fic

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brownhairedbookworm · 5 months ago

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Emptiness And (Other Sensations to Apply to a Stoned Girlfriend)

content: drug use, BDSM, women afflicted with the big gay

I lower the chilled can from my lips, letting out a relaxed sigh. Tonight, I have no responsibilities and I have no plans for tomorrow. I have just finished an entire can of THC-infused root beer. Does that make it root and leaf beer? Hm, a thought better left explored once the effects are more properly in progress. Addled thoughts are more fun.

I drop the can into the recycling bin. My next steps take me out of the kitchen and toward the living room, where my beautifully gothic girlfriend, Yuri, is reading. Careful not to disturb her, I climb into her lap. My hands naturally rest on her shoulders as I read over the pages. Ah, she's re-reading this one. We should head on a bookstore date, soon! Our personal library could always stand to grow.

"Mmm, my lovely lavender lady~? Are you too engrossed in your reading to help me prepare for a scene?"

Yuri looks over at my face. Her stoic expression is only betrayed by a spark of mischief in her eyes that I've just recently started to be aware of. "Hm... You've just chugged an entire can of something, and now you desire to 'prepare for a scene'... Miss Monika, are you planning to be stoned on the harness and let me have my way with you?" She taps my jaw with the black ring on her right hand.

"You've got it. Interested?"

"Incredibly. You make fascinating sounds, when you get inebriated." Yuri closes her book with slightly more force than necessary. She sets it to the side and picks me up. Her lips begin rising into a grin. It seems like she's excited to torture me, as always! Her sadistic streak is so surprisingly cute...~

It barely takes another 5 minutes before I'm stripped bare and Yuri has prepared me for sensory play in the basement. She locks my limbs into their cuffs, and then begins covering my head.

Blackness and silence. My face is masked, my ears are completely blocked off from the world with a noise cancelling device, and my hair is ever so carefully reshaped into a bun. I can't speak, I can't see, I can't hear, and the only thing I can feel is the sensation of my own weight sagging against my bonds. The world is absolute stillness, as far as I am aware. Even the playful taunts that I'm sure I'm being given fall on deaf ears.

As the THC begins stewing my mind, the first sense I lose is really my sense of time. When nothing is happening to your body, and your mind is slowly turning around, you can't tell how long anything has been going on for. I'm sure it can't be that long, but Yuri's deprived me of sensation for extended periods, before. It makes my reaction to stimulus that much more interesting to her. I can't help but let out a soft grunt as my mind begins to warp. Even without my sight, I can tell my eyes have settled into different focal lengths. A mild dizziness begins to float into my conscious mind.

The scratch of a nail (black, sharp, shining, I see it in my mind's eye) trails across my side, and my mind hyperfocuses on the only meaningful sensory information I've received in the past...hour? I don't even think she broke skin, but the stimulation of anything happening after being deprived for what feels like so long sends my body into a shudder. I feel a moan rumble out of my throat, unable to hear it once it escapes. My muscles twitch and my arms tug at my restraints, desperately flailing and twisting my body to receive a touch, once more. But hands or nails or tools do not contact my skin, again. I let out what has to be a pathetic whimper.

The (admittedly former, at this point) Literature Club president, goddess of this virtual world… Brought low by a mere sixty minutes of lacking sensation. Or… Has it been longer? I feel the desperation swirling and swimming between my core and my brain, up and down my spinal cord like a phone call that no one can answer.

Just as the sensation of my scratched skin begins to fade, I feel a chill applied to the small of my back. Ah, cold cold cold cold cold cold, is that an ice cube?! Is it a piece of chilled steel!? I feel it sticking to my skin, but I can't tell what it is. I let out a hiss and a moan, writhing about once more as my mind spreads the sensation of deathly chill throughout my bones.

My heart pounds, spreading the intoxicant in my digestive system through my body even faster.

My tension and arousal ebb and flow. I feel the effects of the drugs starting to peak. My senses remain unstimulated, but my brain's electric pulses begin leaking into each other. My angular gyrus is sending garbage data directly to my Wernicke's area, and I have a completely agreeable thought that ¥Ëć¼öĆòĨÀÔ is a concept for Thursday and would go well with taco night. At the immediate same time, the remaining sober parts of my brain rightfully ask "What in the goddamn hell are you talking about?".

And then any junk thoughts are interrupted by the raw sensation of Yuri biting my neck. Gently, almost too gently... Her teeth press into my skin, not breaking through. I feel the carefully coordinated pressure of her jaw. The scent of her perfume, the tickling of her loose hair brushing across my cheek, the warmth of her body, I feel every part of her so deeply in my soul. Another pathetic moan erupts from me as I wiggle in the restraints again. I try to call out with my mind, begging her to bite harder. She pulls away, probably smelling my naked craving for her. I whine as I helplessly wiggle toward where she was. Please keep touching me. Let me feel you.

I cling tightly to the memory of her scent as the void overtakes me once more. The phantom of her presence caresses my form as I hold tighter and tighter to the fading smell in my brain, washing away in the swamp of intoxication. I whine softly and squeeze my eyes shut with the useless effort of grasping at a faded thought.

My body goes limp against my will. I can feel the THC flowing into my motor controls. Complete relaxation finally penetrates my needy, greedy heart. I let out a sigh as the tension in my system slowly dissipates.

The mask and gag on my mouth are pulled away and Yuri makes her presence known once more. She kisses me gently, holding a hand to my chest. I feel my heart beat against her. I crave a liquid form so I can simply envelope her and experience the entire sensation of Yuri all at once. But a kiss and plenty of skin contact will have to do.

I feel a rumble in my stomach... I should have eaten, before getting bound.

Yuri leaves the kiss, to my whining disappointment. But this time her presence stays close. First, she releases my feet, then my arms, and finally removes the noise cancelling headphones. The blindfold stays on, as she embraces me. The sensations of the world slowly return.

"I felt that stomach growl up in your chest, my darling emerald. I think your body needs some dinner, before we continue."

The words scramble into a jumble of nonsense as they bounce around my skull. I simply nod, trusting Yuri to understand and tend to my needs.

"Ah, you're that high. Very well, then. I think I might keep the blindfold on you, to ensure your senses are not overwhelmed, but I will assist you to the couch and bring you some leftovers." Yuri picks me up and begins carrying me back upstairs to the living room.

Distorted through the green mush of my brain, the familiar sounds of our home are still welcoming. The air conditioner is sending a whoosh through the walls, I hear some evening birdsong just outside the door, the sound of Yuri's feet gently tapping against the floor as she carries me is almost soothing~

Yuri gently lays me on the couch. She covers me with a comfortably fluffy blanket. I resist the urge to grope around for a pillow and get comfortable for a nap. I want to thank my lover so much, but every single word of admiration melts completely before reaching my tongue. I settle for trying to make my hands into the shape of a heart and holding it up.

"I love you, too. And you're welcome." She gives a gentle, melodic chuckle as she brushes her hand through my hair, undoing the bun.

I groan softly, smiling as I let my hands drift back beneath the blanket. My words may be scrambled, but Yuri knows me so well that we don't need to share them.

"I believe the remaining half of an extra peppery bean quesadilla should be to your liking? Rest gently, love, I'll go heat it up and bring it to you."

She knows me so well~

Her presence fades once again as she goes to reheat my dinner. I'm left with a big pile of lovey dovey feelings to giggle about as I wrap myself up in the blanket, even tighter. Yuri is so wonderful and smart and beautiful~ I love her! I love her, so much~!

Some minutes later, Yuri returns with an absolutely fragrant dish. The spice of the reheated peppers gives my nostrils a pleasant sting. I carefully sit up, my stomach growling again in anticipation. I hold my hands out to hold the plate that I'm sure she's carrying.

"You remain blindfolded, my verdant-eyed dearest~ I'm going to need to feed you, so you don't make an enormous mess." She laughs again. It's music to my ears. I lower my arms and carefully open my mouth.

I greedily devour every bite she puts into my mouth. Now that something other than a liquid is in my stomach, the sensation of hunger multiplies. I'm drooling all over myself as I rapidly chomp down the remains of what I remember to be a rather hefty quesadilla.

Once she tells me that the food is finished, I cuddle right up to her. I think my word scrambling may last until I properly rest. Yuri gently removes my blindfold to find my eyes already closed.

"You're feeling quite warm. Time for a nap, or perhaps sleeping for the rest of the night?"

I only nod in response. She begins to carefully lay down, keeping my as still as she can until my head rests on her breasts.

"Sweet dreams, darling."

I fight to say one last thing through the storming swirl of messy words and trash information in my head.

"Love you... So much..."

"I love you, too." She gently begins to stroke through my hair, and I fall asleep almost immediately.

#drabble #ddlc #yurika #monika ddlc #yuri ddlc

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ihatesocialmedia45 · 5 months ago

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Chapter 8: Love and Happiness

Ok, you know the drill - 5 chapters, and then I be quiet! (I'm still writing this fic, so once we get to Ch 13, we'll be caught up, so read slowly!!/j)

TRIGGER WARNING FOR "SOMNO"!!

Homelander brushed a lock of the woman's hair from her sleeping face, the sounds of the city acting as a quiet backdrop as he gazed at her. Her lips, swollen from kisses, parted gently, a soft sigh escaping them; Homelander ducked to inhale it, chasing the air into his lungs. They'd spent all night in each other's arms, locked in an embrace that nothing but the call of sleep could break. He'd wanted to take her then - he'd stripped her naked, under the glow of the candlelight - but they'd been too worn from the exertion of both of their respective revelations. So he'd been content, for now, to hold her as they drifted off.

Underneath the bed rang his phone; the woman shifted, her brow furrowing lightly - and Homelander reached frantically for it, the name "Stan" blaring before his eyes, before crushing it in his grasp, the sound like bones snapping. He felt a dark satisfaction curl around him at the feel of the ruined metal, and smiled. That would teach Stan to call him on a weekend.

Turning his attention back to her, Homelander let his eyes roam her body, from the hill of her hip beneath the duvet, to the delicate slope of her neck... and he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, breathing in the scent of her hair. She pressed into his touch, the haze of slumber turning her movements smooth and surreal. Her arm fell across his waist, and Homelander held his breath.

Could she feel him, even in sleep? A burst of excitement pulsed in his core.

Leaning in further, he tested the theory and graced his lips against hers, eyes trained on her face. She didn't move further - but he caught the sound of her heart picking up in speed, his mouth turning up at the corners.

Homelander shifted into a sitting position and then hovered above the woman now, the tip of his nose buried in her hair. Settling on top of her, bracing himself on hands and knees, he lowered himself incrementally, until his hips met hers with a brief kiss, eyes locked on her downswept lashes. He let his hips dip low again, half willing her awake with the sweet heat of this contact - but she did not stir. Homelander bit his lip, and, assured that she was asleep, lowered his head to her breast, seeking out the bud of her nipple with his mouth and granting it a tentative flick, and then another.

He grew greedy then, undulating into her as he rolled her nipple with his tongue, his panting echoing in the room like that of a crazed beast. The slick silk beneath him shifted in a way that made his toes curl; he released her from his mouth with a quiet pop, focusing on the feel of her warmth beneath him as the gentle rocking of his hips threatened to fall into a rut. He looked up, expecting a faint flush on the woman's sleeping face, but gasped, body stilling to a cold halt. She was staring at him, eyes glinting in the moonlight from the window. He stared at her, too shocked at being caught to hide his look of surprise, the hint of mortification.

"Do you want to?" she whispered, the sleepy tilt of her eyes making Homelander worry his lip. He swallowed heavily, and nodded. She smiled, letting out a soft coo and cupping his face in her hand, before rolling onto her stomach. Homelander raised his brows, heart pounding.

He waited for a stretch of time, steadying himself and letting her drift back into sleep, then slowly joining her under the duvet, blanketing her with his body, and let it seal them in, resting on his forearms on top of her. He brought his hands to her hips, kneaded her there, slowly, before lifting the sheer silk of her nightgown, the sound of the fabric against her skin like a gentle breeze.

Pressing his weight onto her fully - he felt a twinge of excitement at her deep exhale - he rocked his hips into her again, no barrier between them now. The feel of her skin against his was electric in its intensity; he looked, and saw that the hair of his arms was standing on end. Clamping his jaws onto her pillow, he sent his hips back slowly, then brought them to meet her, pressing hard when he'd filled the gap with their union.

She gasped then, and he brought a hand to her mouth, tracing a finger against her lip, hips surging forward when she took the digit into her mouth, the sensation wringing a stuttered groan from his lips.

She turned, eyes half lidded, and pulled him into a kiss with one hand, interlacing her fingers with his with the other, and in the snatches of air between their kisses, she whispered, hot and fervent, into his skin, "You can have this, any time." Homelander felt the explosion of stars beneath his closed eyelids, her words taking root and holding him firm against the pliant softness of her body.

He lost himself then, his grip on her tightening as he drove into her harder, the desperate clash of his body against hers loud in the room. At the feeling of her squeezing his hand, he let out a soft cry and spilled inside her, holding her in his arms and listening to the race of their heartbeats, marveling at the way his sweat glinted on her skin. Homelander let out a gusty sigh, tucking his chin into the crook of her neck, warmth bleeding into him when she entangled her legs with his and pressed his hand to her lips, before wrapping it around herself. He melted - she'd wanted him close.

She wanted him, he thought, smiling softly as sleep pulled him under now, too. She wanted him.

Stan watched the couple with a patient boredom in his eyes; he'd rolled his eyes when Homelander had crushed his phone to dust when he'd called, but felt himself slide back into apathy as he crept on top of the woman's sleeping form. She'd given him everything, and yet he still felt the need to take. It was typical Homelander, he thought, sweeping his eyes away. Even he didn't wish to see what was about to unfold.

He brought his gaze up, though flickering with faint curiosity, when the woman stopped Homelander with that innocuous question, that froze him in his tracks.

Do you want to? Stan leaned in.

So this was her angle, then; the illusion of choice, redemption. She'd pretended to sleep, kept still until he'd lost himself, and then presented him with her compliance, drawing him in deeper. Stan couldn't help but feel a little impressed. Clever girl.

But... to what end? She hadn't asked him for money, hadn't stolen anything from Vought when he'd brought her - she hadn't even posted pictures of the inside of the Tower, though this last thought was less surprising. The woman had no social media, save for a blog she posted updates to occasionally.

He couldn't bring himself to read another post - it was all the same depressive drivel, the same unsettling longing. She liked villains, monsters. Stan supposed, then, that this next one, the one in her bed, wasn't so far a leap to make.

It was Saturday, but Stan always stayed late, seven days a week. He tucked his chair in closer, studying the segment he'd rewound; the woman, wrapping Homelander's arm around her, pressing a kiss into his open palm.

What did she want from him?

He picked up his phone, messaged Noir to confirm that he was in position, ready to act - and a moment later, Noir replied with a picture of the woman's front door. Stan nodded, shut the laptop, and made his way to the window of his office, looking outside with a contemplative air.

The woman snuggled in closer to Homelander, feeling his breath ruffle her hair and smiling. This was exactly how it should be. She thought back to the fear of last night - that blind terror that he'd see the shrine, recoil in disgust, and fly out of her life forever. A future of being barred from all events he hosted, blacklisted from the store she got his news clippings from - maybe even walked away in handcuffs for collecting his gum, flashed through her mind.

She thought of the day she'd created the shrine; Vought had cancelled an event she'd bought tickets to, four months in advance, and then it happened. One moment, she was staring at the message they'd posted, ears ringing - and the next, before she knew it, she was taking a hammer to the wall, screaming as chunks of drywall flew back at her. When the dust settled, she'd looked in horror at the mess, before stuffing the cavern full of her Homelander memorabilia, a dark peace washing over her as she lit the candles. Even then, she knew it was... intense. Maybe too intense to show him. But he'd needed her to, she thought, remembering the faint tremor in his voice when he'd asked why she'd been okay with the overseas massacre.

Why?

She considered, tracing his cheek with her index finger. Maybe she'd just seen too much; the world, even before Homelander, was an abysmal, wretched place, and each tragedy only felt like the same news, repeated on a loop in her mind. There was no need to fear a superhero who could level cities to the ground, when the politicians on Capitol Hill hovered around the Big Red Button, daring each other to push it like teens at a sleepover. The ocean was heating up and would boil them alive, anyway -what did it matter if Homelander sped things up a bit?

Maybe it was because she was angry for him. Angry that he felt the need to act on their behalf, chained to their puny wills, when he should be free, as any person was, to live a life of his own choosing. Even if China hadn't raised Homelander to the heights he stood at now... they most likely would have, if they'd had the chance. And besides - it would only be a matter of time before they did. China would never let an affront like this go unpunished. But Homelander would be waiting, as he always was. The thought comforted her.

Another thought tapped at the forefront of her brain - one that she didn't often engage with, because it unsettled her, if only briefly. As she looked into Homelander's sweet, sleeping face, her heart swelling, she thought maybe she hadn't cared... because nobody else mattered to her. He could give whatever answer he wanted - he'd said it 'needed to be done', she recalled with an affectionate roll of her eyes - but the answer wouldn't have changed things. For as long as she could remember, she'd never been extremely concerned with the sanctity of human life. An old woman dying, surrounded by friends and loved ones... a man, bleeding out in the street after a mugging gone wrong... it was the same to her. And if the one behind the gun was the man who'd seen the apathy in her eyes, kissed away her tears? How could she care?

So she'd told him that she believed him, and it was true.

Rising up on her knees to straddle him, she laid her cheek on his, humming contentedly when he wrapped his arms around her, his eyes sweeping open. Homelander looked into her face and smiled, feeling her trying to press herself as deeply onto him as possible. "Morning," she chirped, winding her hips against him, kissing his cheek, his neck.

Homelander growled, sliding his hands to her waist and pressing into her in turn. "Don't start something you can't finish," he teased darkly, nipping at her earlobe. She kissed him then, her lips hot on his mouth. "Never," she whispered.

The couple folded into the embrace, Homelander's fingers teasing at the waistband of her panties - when a sharp knock jolted them out of the moment. The woman frowned, reaching for her robe, and Homelander strode toward the door, eyes narrowed, swinging it open - and staring into Noir's masked face. He was holding a sign, Homelander noted with irritation.

'Stan says you don't have enough vacation days for this "excursion" ' Homelander felt the muscles in his face twitch. He nodded minutely, before stepping back into the apartment, gesturing toward the couch.

"I'll be just a minute," he grumbled at Noir, before meeting the woman. She was standing in the hallway, a mix of surprise and wariness on her face.

"Who is that?" she whispered, eyeing Noir with distrust. Homelander smiled at her pouting expression. "That... is your ticket to a trip to Vought Tower. Hosted by yours truly, of course." He winked at her when she beamed, stepping into her room to pull the suitcase from under her bed. He smacked her lightly on the behind.

"Get packing," Homelander said cheerily, loud enough for Noir to hear, "and bring your lingerie," he murmured in her ear, chuckling at her gasp.

Maeve watched Homelander and the woman fly through the doors of Vought Tower through the slats in the blinds, the headache she'd been tending to re-emerging with a vengeance at the sight of the woman's lilac suitcase. He was holding her in one arm, the luggage in the other. She scoffed. How much says he sees them as the same thing?

She'd stayed gone from the last three Seven meetings, ignoring Ashley's frantic texts, spitting cutting remarks at Deep when she passed him in the halls... but nothing could seem to mend the void Sage had left inside her that night.

She hadn't been clingy with her - she hadn't. But it hadn't mattered to Sage. She thought of their hazy bar crawl, the flush on the shorter woman's face when Maeve had teased her - and she'd really believed it... she'd believed that Sage had wanted her. Maybe not in the traditional sense... but in some way. Why lean in, then, when Maeve dipped her head to kiss her? Why lead her to her bedroom, hands in her hair?

Had she really been unable to distinguish passion from the need for control?

The wet ragged squelch of Sage's brain, coming apart under the lobotomy wand, suddenly rang through her mind - Maeve jerked up, clambering for the trash can she'd left by the bed, the splatter of vomit loud in her ears. She rinsed her mouth out, before rising to her feet, and putting the thought from her mind.

This woman would be staying with them, for who knows how long, Maeve thought. It wouldn't do well to show weakness - not while this new dynamic was unfolding. So she stood, checking herself in the mirror, before stepping out of her room for the first time in days, the crisp air of the hall raising the hairs on her arms.

As she walked by, she caught a glimpse of The Deep, who instantly tried avoiding her path. Too late; she caught up to him on the way to the meeting room, gaze venomous.

"Something smells fishy," she snarked. "Letting Ambrosia hit third base already?" Deep blanched. "It's 'Ambrosius,' ", he mumbled, rubbing his arm and looking away. Maeve smirked, making her way to the table. Hell yeah. She wouldn't let petty one-night stand gone wrong ruin her.

Stan sat at his desk, eyeing Sage with a cold gaze that made her straighten her spine. He'd actually gone out of his way to consult her this time around, in regards to a plan he'd crafted. As she listened, a whisper of incredulousness tangled in her mind, until the last word he'd said had made her outright snort with laughter. Stan stopped at once, eyes somehow even shrewder.

"Something amusing?" he asked. Sage shook her head.

"No, sir. It's just... therapy? With all due respect... are you sure? It seems a bit... late for that." Stan shook his head.

"Sage, you've seen your... teammates. Deep, with his fixation on that octopus he thinks I don't know about... Maeve, drinking herself into a coma. Starlight, cracking under the pressure of what it truly means to work for Vought. They're all children, equipped with the power to make their issues the world's problem. Vought's problem." Sage shivered, the unspoken tail of that sentence menacing in her brain: My problem.

"To that end... I suggest that we stop pretending that this is something else. We meet them at their level - and maybe they'll even feel the need to rise above these measures, prove they're not as immature as they come across." Stan gestured to her.

"That's where you come in. You have insight on the Seven that even I don't; what they like, what makes them tick... their idiosyncrasies. Using that knowledge, we can craft a series of sessions that will prove to be more effective than previous attempts others have made."

Sage looked at him, thoughts swirling. "So... you want to... speak to their inner children?" Stan smiled. "Precisely."

"I expect your findings by end of day. We start this effective immediately; I already have therapists waiting in the wings, ready to act." Stan made to dismiss her, but the worry that had blossomed in her gut refused to let her leave. "But sir... surely Homelander will object to being... analyzed like this. What do we do if he... rebels?" Stan ushered her to the door anyway, a frosty glint in his eyes, that polite smile pointed at the edges of his mouth.

"Whatever do you mean?" he asked. "This is a therapy session for the entire Seven. Not everything revolves around Homelander, you know."

#homelander #the boys amazon #the boys tv #diabolica writes #don't save her #homelander x you #homelander x reader #TW: LIGHT SOMNO #what do yall think

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goodluckclove · 7 months ago

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songbird elegies thesis ramble incoming

what i truly love about migration patterns, and my series songbird elegies as a whole, is that it really does explore the aftermath of just a truly horrific whump story.

like edgar grew up abused and alone. they signed a contract with the academy they were born into promising they wouldn't have children under the condition that they and their mother would be taken care of for the rest of their lives. they were physically, medically, and emotionally mistreated right up until they hit their breaking point and just left in the middle of the night. but even then they're in the southern equivalent of a conservatorship, so they lacking in some core rights of an adult human being. but at the start of blind trust all of that has already happened.

and scott - jesus christ. he's been wandering the country nonstop for years, unable to see his own face or the faces of anyone around him. his sense of reality was gradually and cruelly eroded by some incomprehensible force waiting to take over his body. his magic was uncontrollable and temporarily manipulated anyone who looked him in the eye or made physical contact for a little too long. sometimes they'd just allow him to work a shift at their restaurant or sleep in some corner of their business. most of the time they'd insist on sleeping with him, and scott would relent, because he was confused and afraid and alone in the conventional world for the first time in his life. but, at the start of blind trust, all of that has already happened.

no, for the entirety of songbird elegies the focus is what happens after the whump. when you endure years, maybe even decades of trauma and abuse, the story doesn't end when Caretaker bursts onto the scene and vaguely patches up your wounds. do you go to the doctor? therapy? which ones and for how long? what are you supposed to catch up on when there's so, so much you've missed?

why are you scared, even though you're now being taken care of? why does it sometimes hurt to be taken care of? does any of that ever go away? scott can't drive a car. he isn't registered to vote. edgar can't legally sign a lease to a home or apartment, and if they get sent to the hospital they can't dictate their own medical treatment.

i don't think people want to talk too much about the comfort part of hurt/comfort because it's less dramatic. it's not as exciting. it's vulnerable and a little awkward. i have a scene where edgar order and eats a hot dog, and it lasts for four pages because you just see how excited they are for a five dollar hot dog, and how much they're anticipating it, and how grateful they are when it gets there.

and that's kind of pathetic, right? but it's because they grew up food insecure. and it's still pathetic even then, but it's literally pathetic, as in "invoking of pathos". it makes me ache in a very unique way.

anyways i'm going to write 4-5 books of these sad assholes getting stronger and healthier and if anyone tries to tell me it's not exciting enough i'm going to take one of my brick-sized books and throw them at their head.

#writeblr #writing community #on writing #writing #authors of tumblr #actually writing #migration patterns #songbird elegies

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tonydaddingham · 1 year ago

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does aziraphale actually at any point agree to come back to heaven? even after the metatron offers to restore crowley? because take all the time you need doesn't sound like he agreed yet. the flashback cuts immediately after the ascension offer without looking at his reply. he dodges directly answering tell me you said no. crowley takes it as a foregone conclusion based on his evasions and reacts accordingly the metatron acts as though he's agreed to cut off his escape routes but i'm not conviced he actually ever did...

(2/2)

hi anon!!!✨ lots of things to talk about here!!!

okay first thing's first, something definitely feels off about the cuts in the metatron-aziraphale chinwag, and the way it's intersected with aziraphale telling crowley, there's no two ways about it. i do think to some degree there is something we are not seeing.

that being said, i think it could potentially be quite... cheap? narratively to have a Big Reveal of *gasp* we didn't see the whole conversation! now if that does happen, im absolutely sure i'll be proven wrong in that assessment, and it'll be great. however, i personally don't like it that much, insofar that i think it can sometimes reflect a poor opinion on audience intelligence (ie. i prefer to find out there were clues hidden in plain sight to about 95% of the 'Answer', you only had to look hard enough to work out what was going on, then maybe a surprise twist for the remaining 5% - rather than something be purposefully and entirely kept from the audience).

so for example, i felt this way about the gabriel/beelzebub storyline. what had happened to gabriel was hidden in plain sight - the fly, the box, the memories, the matchbox etc - but the little twist obviously being him and beez falling in love. beautiful, splendid!

but for there to be a Big Reveal that metatron made an overt or even thinly veiled threat against aziraphale and/or crowley? that feels a bit too Big to reconcile, imo, with the rest of the scene. there are definitely indicators, the more that ive rewatched the Final Fifteen with this perspective in mind, that aziraphale is scared, or uncertain. the way he looks out the window, his facial reaction to what crowley says to him (shaking head, looking confused, etc)...

but i don't think he's been threatened. i think he maybe feels threatened or has Worked Something Out, but i dont think metatron actually intimated any kind of threat (tbh, i felt like that was the whole point of metatron's behaviour in the Final Fifteen). as for whether aziraphale had accepted the offer though - i completely agree that i don't think he had made up his mind completely until a very Specific moment.

i do believe that aziraphale wants to change heaven, and do the good thing of making a difference; i think that its simultaneously very in-keeping with his core traits (and his character development up to this point has naturally led to this decision), but also a step forward in some aspects too - put simply, bc it would be a whole other meta and tbh a point ive talked about quite extensively from my recollection, i definitely think both of the boys needed to separate.

but as to specifically why aziraphale was so willing to make that difference; well, i think he realises that metratron is potentially dangerous. he's smarter than metatron has given him credit for, and aziraphale realises that whilst he may not know his motives for doing so, or what specifically metatron could do, i think he has put together a number of Clues that indicate that he and crowley might not be as safe in the bookshop as they thought they were (and i had to actually parse this out in a separate post, anon, bc i got so excited!!! your ask completely inspired it, so thank you!)

so with this potentially in mind, he leaves the bookshop (and not until possibly clocking this dirty look thrown at crowley, just for good measure):

and settled down across the road with metatron. metatron offers him the job, CUT, metatron gives (?) aziraphale the power to restore crowley, CUT. then aziraphale, as you said anon, starts to come back across to the bookshop, and tell crowley what happened. as you said, metatron's line indicates aziraphale has basically said, "well, i'll need to run it by him indoors first", and metatron has acquiesced, it seems.

so yeah, just to hammer home your point, i definitely think that aziraphale has said something like, "i need to think about it", for metatron's first line to make sense and for it to flow. and his expression, keeping with the kindly old man, indicates to me that he hasn't gone nasty or threatened him at all, but instead is almost taking the "kill them with kindness" approach, which is all the more powerful because it makes the victim, so to speak, arrive at the conclusion they wanted but by their own conviction.

anyway, so aziraphale is all smiley, until he crosses to the bookshop, and it's apprehensive and stiff and uncomfortable. i think this for me is a telling sign, because if he were expected crowley to want to be an angel again, and to be with him, what would aziraphale have to be nervous about? personally i think it's to do with the aforementioned potential realisation that whatever he says to crowley in the shop, he needs to be careful in what he says and how he says it.

as soon as he steps in the shop, it's back to smiles. nothing's wrong at all. in fact, i have good news. aziraphale is looking out the window just as metatron has turned from muriel to look right back. then, when crowley starts rambling (my brave soldier), you need to stop talking, i need to tell you this and i need to tell you this now before anything happens or you end up saying something and land us in deep shit, because i think he can hear everything we're saying (just chopped together a bunch of shit to demonstrate this):

and then aziraphale starts to lay out what the metatron has offered to him, even pulling himself up on potentially offending him by indicating that aziraphale and crowley both might have had a shitty word to say about him after the metatron's less than helpful rhetoric in s1:

im not going to go ahead and gif the rest, but the following notes through aziraphale's account of the conversation and the offer made to crowley:

aziraphale barely blinks after the above point in his monologue, and is definitely agitated and restless compared to when it cuts to the flashback of him and metatron at justine's restaurant

an obvious thing that everyone has remarked but; aziraphale first asserts that he doesn't want to go back to heaven, to which metatron plays the crowley restoration card

as soon as metatron says, "(paraphrased) looked back over your previous exploits with the demon crowley", and aziraphale goes from frozen, deer in headlights, to visibly uncomfortable and panicked - swallows, eyes start darting away (previous pretty firm eye contact with metatron), pursed lips... all indicating to me a mixture of 'oh he's definitely been watching us/has had the power to', and 'oh shit it's worse than i thought'

we don't see aziraphale's face after metatron finishes his offer of restoring crowley - did aziraphale continue to look scared? did he look relieved that a threat hasn't been made? does he even look relieved that metatron doesn't appear to be splitting them up, but instead is offering an option where they can still be together and protect each other? we don't know.

i do think aziraphale was taken in by the promotion; i do think he wants to do exactly as ive said in previous metas. i think he does want to make a difference, do the right thing. not the clever thing, or logical thing, but the right thing. the minisodes literally led to this point, directed us to this being the pinnacle of his character development so far.

i think he genuinely thought that the restoration offer would solve everything re: his and crowley's safety, and their future together - he acts truly shocked that crowley would turn it down. i don't think crowley has ever really told him about the fall, or why crowley is so vehemently repulsed by heaven and therefore by the offer by extension. aziraphale sees it as an overture made towards crowley, a way to set right an egregious wrong done to crowley, and - like the photograph in ep4 - a way that aziraphale, once again, can actually be the one out of the two of them to protect them both.

this to me is why the metatron's whole offer, start to finish, is so clever, and so dumb, and why it would be so gratuitous to even bother with an overt threat. it's clever because it plays into aziraphale's core beliefs and the tenets of his character - especially those that crowley taught him. it's dumb because there's so much that metatron got wrong, like the coffee, and only set off (imo) the alarm bells for aziraphale that things are Not What They Seem. but ultimately aziraphale arrives at the conclusion - especially post-Feral Domestic - that he has to go to heaven. metatron didn't need to threaten him; the decisions that you reach yourself rather than be coerced or ordered into are always the decisions that stick.

i think aziraphale knew he was going to go to heaven as soon as metatron offered it. i think he knew, however this was going to go, it would not be an option he couldn't take. the bit he didn't foresee, that he thought would be guaranteed, is that crowley would want to help him and be with him, not force him to go against his core self (the bit that wants to do good and do the right thing), and not put his faith and trust in aziraphale even if he could never again put it in heaven. im not saying aziraphale is right for thinking or assuming that - far from it - but that must be somewhat along the lines of how he thought this would go.

so essentially, anon, if you've stuck with me this far (bless you if you have, you're so brave), i do largely agree! and it's parsing out this ask that has made me seriously consider if i think that aziraphale knows he's in some sort of peril. i think he does - but i don't think the metatron knows that aziraphale knows. that's pretty powerful knowledge. the opening had been made, a declaration of intent has been made apparent, and now aziraphale needs to respond. i think aziraphale is going to need to play a very tough board here, consider where he moves his pieces, and start planning the middlegame as soon as he can - something, if you ask me, he's already doing:

#its nearly 1am i havent proof read this #tldr anon your ask has convinced me of the middle ground between aziraphale being coerced and aziraphale just being a Good Nice Angel #good omens #ask #aziraphale meta #feral domestic/final fifteen meta #s2 meta #metatron spec #sanctuary/bentley theory

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