#doesn't kill immersion at all

[eddis-not-eeddis]

Hello darkness my old friend, it looks like the show's lighting technician got laid off again...

[cherie-doll]

I said "do you think you'll kill for me one day?"

(Yes, of course I will, my darling)

― yandere!cod men x reader ― ε price, ghost, soap, gaz, roach, makarov, alejandro, rudy, phillip graves, keegan, könig, horangi, nikto з suggestive?

꒰ ͜ ‿ ͜ ♡ ͜ ‿ ͜ ꒱

ଘ You're no plaything for Price. He doesn't just like you, he adores you. Cups your pretty face in his hands; delicately. His rugged and rough hands become gentle as soon as he comes into contact with your skin, treating it as if it were finely-grained porcelain. He treats you the exact opposite of how he treats anyone else. Whilst he leaves everyone else covered from head to toe in blood for coming near you, you're covered from head to toe in the most expensive items you wish for. But, he doesn't want you to forget that his money doesn't represent his love for you, it does not begin to cover not even half of what it should. He'll be sure to remind you not to be spoiled rotten. He's fond of you and while he's interested in you, you should listen and obey to what he advices you. He is more experienced after all.

ଘ Compare what Simon's scars and bruises are to your unscathed body. Let his hands roam over your body, taking in all he works for. Let them wander and familiarize with what he's toying with. His breath on your skin as it quickens, losing his train of thoughts as he fondles you. He's convinced you're meant only for him. No one else should touch you this way, no one could do it like he does. And please return it! Cradle his head in your lap, so the sizzling subsides and he feels alive. Let him know he's the best, the one. Let him lean in and capture those soft, plump lips in a passionate kiss. Don't pull away, don't deny him his heaven. And don't you dare let anyone else trail your body with their eyes like he does. Why, he'll feel as if they're already doing what their mind desires. He's screwed up in his mind but he'll move heaven and earth for those thighs to wrap around his waist at night spilling the warmth between them. Make him feel warm and welcome, give him the world he burns everyone else for. He sacrifices others at the feet of your altar.

ଘ Johnny's smug smile can fade rather quickly with one sensual move from you, watch him get lost as his breath is winded and his body is overtaken with an all-consuming fire of passion. Oh, he can't even fathom the idea of anyone before or after him experiencing such things. He'll be paralyzed the moment you sit on his lap and putting your hand to his chest, let it trail over his heart which at the moment beats wildly. It's a sensation he experiences when plunging a knife deep within someone else's chest, he reckons the feeling is almost the same. He thinks his victims rather lucky they die this way. How many other people can experience that fleeting, overwhelming feeling?

ଘ Kyle's hand kisses are done with such reverent trembling and respect that he'll have your skin tingling with warm sensations as if the late evening sun was seeping into your skin. Let his and your body blend together like the watercolors on an artist's canvas does. Bask in his affection like you'll sunbathe on the beach. Take in all the good he brings you, accept every touch of his that starts with a secure embrace and ends with the colliding of your bodies. The cold with which he lashes out for others has no place with the gentleness he entreats you with. Keep your eyes on his, locked in his steady gaze immerses himself in fantasies. He feels dizzy as if his world was spinning, losing himself in the sensations. And after the elation, let him shower you in praises, caresses and gifts. Let him buy you two rings for each finger, how many could you want to show off having a caring partner when you slide his card at the register? Make your hands look pretty whilst his are leaving a trail of crimson blood after him.

ଘ Roach couldn't ever hurt anyone else, he didn't know what he was capable of until the importance of you came all too clear. You're something that shouldn't belong to anyone else in the world. It's a quick descent down the spiral of violent devotion. His soft gaze usually filled with admiration and sentiment for you hardens, his pupils dilating as fear takes over. He's only acting on behalf of all his anguish, you haven't the heart to condemn him. He's shown you what your heart is worth, couldn't you give him some sort of heaven? He will do very well at whatever it is you ask of him, just wait while he shows you. There isn't anyone else like him he says over and over as if a prayer or spell he could make come true.

ଘ Makarov does not care whether he deserves you or not. Unlike the others who will commit unspeakable acts out of guilt and use their "pure" intentions to purify their actions, Makarov is selfish and relentless in what he wants. He does not flinch at your attempts of control, it's lost the moment he takes you in. He's determined to taste everything you have to offer, whether it's willingly or not. But he does like things to be served on a platter for him, he also has no problem taking it himself. Let the hand on the back of your neck guide you in the direction you are to walk, be docile and you'll surely receive tenderness. He can never deny that he loves the way your lashes flutter as you look through them up at him as he pats your head for being so good. Overtime you might notice small details showing his exterior cracking and revealing the soft, white underbelly of affection. He feels as if his chest caves in from your actions, the subtle red at the tip of his ears. Keep pulling at his neck collar, he'll like that fake sense of control you have.

ଘ You wouldn't ever catch a glimpse of Alejandro's manipulative strategies until he finds someone threatening. Is it wrong you're not seeing enough of other people? His biggest fear is you falling for someone else, the danger of you getting too close to someone is palpable for him. The intimacy you two share is from the harvest he's worked so hard for. He's been slaving away for so long to just let someone else lay a hand on you. He kneads you into what he desires, anything to feel the beating heart in your chest which pumps only for him. He'll keep polishing you until he gets down to the bare essence of you, which he can only dream to capture. The rhythm he wants to feel rushing through his veins, circling throughout his body.

ଘ Rudy's tenderness blinds you as he takes you to what you can only describe to be paradise. With the shining of luxury, all new and just for you he says. He'll press a million sweet kisses on your face before dropping that a most bothersome person will no longer be graced by your presence ever again. To him it's like a quiet act of love, to you, it's unimaginable. Don't worry your head will all the details, isn't it better to have no worries? He's all smooth indulgence telling you to keep looking at the adorned future he has ahead for you, telling you not to pay attention to the blood that stains the walls of the hallways you walk. He would lay out a new, fancy red carpet over the corpses for you to step over and continue in this fabricated dream.

ଘ Phillip knows exactly how to get the best out of you. Can you blame a man for knowing how to get what he wants from you? Let him tease and tug for he knows what every maneuver of his does. The hands that massage your skin don't get dirty, he'll always have others ready and willing to carry out whatever order he gives. It's what he's accustomed to and how he intends to keep it. But the droplets of blood that splatter do not miss his skin. The stain is still there, still under the skin of the thumb he pushes inside of you, feeling around for that bliss. Let his protectiveness clothe your body, he's already blurring the lines between obsessiveness and possessiveness.

ଘ Keegan's eyes will have you coming to a stumbling halt. Asking for something only you know how to give so good. Those erratic eyes that are unpredictable as they are deep, representing the deep dive you have to be holding your breath for. Are you ready to indulge? Because the impact will have you gasping for air, and when you try to take one you'll only swallow a mouthful of carnal desire. He ignites such a heat it's scalding to the touch, you don't know what's happening it's like you lose control. It happens so fast that when it's all over you'll let his lips, from which hot breaths slip through, kiss all over your sweat glistened body. His eyes might be softer and hold it for a while until he's back to the merciless, cold gaze which freezes everyone's else blood, feeling it lump within their veins.

��� Let König go on his fast rampages. They're over quick anyways. And afterwards, when he comes back, cradle his head between your thighs his tongue tangling as he stutters out promises to buy you what you wish if only you let him lap at your sweetness until his thoughts are left to reckless abandonment. Let him get what he can't get anywhere else. Call him handsome as your bury your fingers into his hair, your fingertips trailing his jaw and down his neck to where his adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. Place kisses on his cheek until he turns his head in one swift motion and captures your lips in a desperate kiss. He wants it all, wants all of you all at once it makes him messy, shaky and weak. But he just wants someone to hold him, rubbing his ears and whispering words of affirmation in his ear.

ଘ Horangi could care less what other's want from him. You're in his viewpoint and he's determined to apply as much pressure as possible to make you bend. The reason he justifies himself with is the lullaby he's lulled to sleep with. Everyone else wants something from him, why shouldn't you? Everyone else is just in the way, he says over and over again, trying to make you focus on his lips instead of the bodies on the floor. With what he's done, he expects a standing ovation from you, nothing but complete adoration and servitude. He's a man who chases after impulses, who knows how long until this candle runs out. For now, ignore the brusque hand and acknowledge the underlying intents. He'll keep this lecherous momentum going until you're feeling faint from the mere touch of his hand.

ଘ Resignation is a trait Nikto works hard to work out of you. Surely, you ought to trust him after all he's done for you. In his mind, he's dedicated such gentle caring to you, you should be grateful. Don't be afraid to take directly out of his hand, he prefers you lose that skepticism. And when you do start to gentle, oh he can never get enough of it. His fingers grazing and gliding over your body at any and every chance he can get. Let him delve deeper into you, it's only natural for him to want to know you better. Every quiver of yours, he feels through the epidermis of his skin. He just knows you that well. His jerking movements shouldn't startle you by now. Maybe if you were more open, you would be telling him what you want. Give him some sort of sign before that spark ignites an unyielding fire. Because to him, that trembling is a sign of a smoldering fierceness waiting to break through.

:¨ ·.· ¨: `· . ꔫ

[isekyaaa]

I could be writing, but what am I doing? Everything but writing. :/

[steddielations]

nsfw, actor eddie, hair and makeup artist steve, sub top

The downside of Eddie having a bunch of tattoos is that he has to sit in the makeup trailer longer than anyone else getting them covered, along with his character’s makeup. 

The plus side is he gets more time with Steve. 

They have this game. It started on Eddie’s first day. He was all wired up with nerves because it’s his first time in a lead role on a big production like this.

Every nightmare scenario of how he could screw up was running through his mind. He couldn’t sit still enough for Steve to give him the wavy hair and facial scars that his character has. 

Eddie kept apologizing and Steve was great about it. He asked Eddie about the heart on his arm with “Wayne” across the ribbon and distracted Eddie from over-practicing his lines, busy telling Steve all about his uncle who raised him and where they’re from. 

Eddie killed it on set that day, and pretty much every day since then. He loves acting, he loves fully immersing himself in the story he’s telling. This role is the biggest of his career so far, but it’s not even about that, he loves the character he’s playing, he meshes well with the director and has chemistry with his co-stars.

But Steve is his favorite part of this whole deal.

Eddie ran out of tattoos for their little game of telling Steve the story behind a different one every day. They never ran out of things to talk about though.

But Steve takes his job seriously and he’s good at it. He explained once why he likes doing this. It’s an art, getting the right look for the right character, or the right person, connecting with and taking care of whoever’s in his chair.

He explained it all while he was running his fingers through Eddie’s hair in those perfectly practiced strokes. Steve’s very good at his job, that’s why it feels so nice when he touches Eddie, even if it’s just work, because Steve cares about this. That’s why it’s easy for Eddie to be lulled into bliss when Steve’s fingers are so gentle on his scalp.

And, okay Eddie’s not made of stone, and he has eyes so he has a thing for Steve. A crush, but there’s a line there. This is work. They’re co-workers, despite how many pretty smiles and lingering looks are exchanged. Eddie won’t cross that line.

Until he does. 

It’s an accident. He never would have done it on purpose. 

Steve’s fingers are just so talented. Eddie’s eyes are closed, he was having another fit of nerves earlier so Steve took extra time with his hair. It put Eddie in a space so relaxed that he feels like he’s floating when Steve’s hand twists in his hair with the perfect amount of tension. It feels so intentional. The moan just slips out.

Eddie apologizes like crazy afterward, he feels terrible. Steve is a picture of professionalism, he’s charming and fun but he runs the makeup trailer like it's the navy and he takes his shit seriously and Eddie crossed a line. 

But Steve just shushes him, guides him to sit back in the chair and says it’s alright. 

Eddie blinks in disbelief but Steve just looks at him. 

It’s a look. 

A look that Eddie can’t stop thinking about for the rest of production.

It’s a look he sees again on his last day on set.

Eddie already shook everyone’s hands and said his goodbyes. He's just stopping by his trailer one last time to make sure the assistants got all his stuff cleared out. 

When he opens the door, his stomach flips, finding Steve waiting inside for him.

“You wrapped filming today,” Steve says in place of a greeting. But his smile and the way his arm is languidly stretched over the back of the couch is inviting. 

Something tells Eddie to lock the door before he goes over to sit next to Steve.

His gaze is even more intense up close. Eddie feels Steve’s eyes on him everywhere, like he’s just eating Eddie up. 

“Yeah, I did,” Eddie says, a tad nervous.

He doesn't want to make a move he can’t take back in case he’s wrong about why Steve’s in his trailer looking at him like that. He doesn’t want to be one of those douchebag movie stars that assumes everyone wants him and he has a free pass to hit on the crew. He’s sure Steve’s had enough of that bullshit.

“We don’t work together anymore,” Steve simply states.

“I know, it sucks,” Eddie laughs a bit sad because he really is, “Sorry if it’s weird to say, but I’m gonna miss you.”

Steve’s eyes shift between Eddie’s and then down to his lips, making his heart stutter in his chest.

“No it’s a good thing,” Steve says and Eddie’s brows knit in confusion. “It means I can do this finally.”

Eddie thinks he’s watching his daydreams play out the way Steve starts leaning in. 

It’s only real when Steve’s lips press softly to his.

Just once, so light, long enough for Eddie to catch on that it’s happening, then Steve pulls back before Eddie can reciprocate.

Steve chuckles faintly at the dramatic frown Eddie’s pulling. 

Then Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, his thumb stroking Eddie’s face as he tells him, “We can stop there and keep it professional and say our goodbyes. Or I can climb on your lap and give you something to remember me by.”

Eddie gulps. Steve’s offer and his silky voice and his perfect touch that Eddie’s already so addicted to is such a heady mix, making it hard to form words. “Yes, climb me— I mean, option B.”

“Yeah, honey, you want that?” God, Eddie always blushed hot when Steve called him that casually in the makeup trailer, now he’s melting hearing Steve say it like this. “Well, go on and take your pants off for me.”

It happens in a syrupy warm blur. Eddie sheds his jeans and underwear like he’s told and he’s rewarded with a gorgeously naked Steve Harrington in his lap. He’s allowed to touch, only after Steve has threaded his fingers through Eddie’s hair more reverently than any time before, like something precious in his hands, and kisses Eddie deep and hard. 

Then Eddie gets to nuzzle the chest hair that’s been driving him crazy peeking out of Steve’s shirt every time he leaned over. Eddie gets to touch Steve’s soft strong thighs, feeling the smatter of hair leading up to his ass that’s been driving Eddie even more insane trying not to stare at. Then he slips his fingers in and moans into Steve’s mouth when he feels the hard bulb of a plug nestled inside Steve.

Steve pulls back from the kiss, smiling and smearing his thumb over the spit on Eddie’s lips. “Yeah, I’m so ready for you, Eddie, baby, you have no idea.”

Eddie’s practically drooling watching Steve take out the plug and get a bottle of lube from between the cushions and a condom, oiling up his hand. When his fist wraps around Eddie’s cock, Eddie helplessly bucks into it, but Steve’s solid thighs pin him down. That makes his mind lust-foggy and his eyes flutter up at Steve, who bites his lip watching Eddie as he lines up to his hole.

“Mm... you know how bad I wanted you?” Steve sounds relieved as he sinks down on Eddie’s cock. “You know how bad I wanted to climb on your lap when you were sitting in my chair. You know how starry-eyed you get when you’re drifting? Just from me touching your hair, so fucking cute.”

Eddie’s just a mess of moans, Steve is so hot and tight around him. It’s too much with all the sweet praise to really comprehend that Steve knew all those times he was getting spacy.

“It’s so easy to put you down.” Steve’s breath comes harder, not letting Eddie move as he starts to roll his hips. “Such an actor, high strung all the time but that’s okay. It’s your passion. That’s sexy. Been dying to hold you down and ride you until you can’t think about anything but me, though.”

Eddie gasps out a groan when Steve tugs sharply on his hair, being right about everything that Eddie’s into so far. It’s no secret that Eddie’s intense, just a different kind of intensity in the bedroom than with his craft. 

Steve seems to get it, seems to know that Eddie needs everything hard and relentless with the way he’s bouncing on Eddie’s dick. He can feel the strength in Steve’s hips, dying to feel them fucking into him too, mouth watering at the sight of his thick cock jumping with all the movement.

“You’d let me tie you down and use you, hm?” Steve asks, drawing Eddie by the hair into a biting kiss that just barely grazes the surface of what Eddie would let Steve do to him. “I know. I’d fuck you up so good if we had time, baby.”

“Steve, holy shit,” Eddie practically sobs, fingers digging into Steve’s ass.

“You close, honey?” 

“Fuck, yeah.” 

Steve suddenly cups his face, just a tad rough and Eddie thought— hoped for one hot moment— that Steve was going to slap him. Just the thought is enough to make him do what he's supposed to, “Can I?” 

“Mh-hm just keep looking at me,” Steve strokes Eddie’s face as he circles his hips and takes Eddie deep. “Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come inside me.”

Eddie does as he’s told, his gaze falling half-shut as he lets go, spilling into the condom like he’s pumping Steve full.

It’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him, followed by the second hottest thing when Steve kisses his slack mouth as his warm heavy spurts of come land on Eddie’s belly.

While Eddie’s coming down, he lets Steve shift him onto the couch. He gets some tissues and then pulls Eddie to lie on his chest because of course he would, he’s Steve.

“Was that enough to remember me by when you get all big and famous?” Steve asks after a while, trailing his knuckles down Eddie’s bare arm.

Eddie looks up, seeing the first glimpse of hesitance in all of Steve’s practiced smoothness.

So Eddie leans in and assures him between pecks on his lips that slowly turn to smiles pressing together. “Nope, think we gotta do it again. And again. And again.” 

[romana-after-dark]

Keep Running, Little Bunny!

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Summary: Logan takes you, but gives you a chance to escape... what isn't he telling you?

Warnings: NON CON DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Logan is a masochist and a bit of a sadist but def more into the pain. Feral!Logan, primal kink, THIS IS NON NON, READER AND LOGAN GET SLICED UP! I'm not listing everything here, just please read with caution! Physical and sexual violence! Somno!

Immersivity: Reader is fem, afab, able bodied

A/N: first time writing Logan!!! Im obssed with him after deadpool wolverine but the only other Wolverine movie ive seen was that really bad one in like japan or something lmfao. I do wanna watch them all now (Oscar Isaac is in apocalypse!) This may not be the most correct but I'm trying. Lemme know if you wan more Logan!

Divider by @xxbimbobunnyxx

Im late but I wanted to do the manspreading for the manspreading olympics by @toxicanonymity

"You're a hard girl to get a hold of, princess."

Logan is sitting across from the bed you've woken up in, in a chair with his legs spread wide. You can see the bulge in his pants from how he touched you, caressing your sleeping body as you slowly woke up from whatever you were given. His hands slid up your loose shorts, a single finger slipping in and out of your hole, making sure the first words you woke up to were, "Are you always this wet?" with his hot breath fluttering on your skin.

Slowly, the memories began to come to you: how you fought and kicked and screamed as Logan tried to drag you away, him shoving the chloroformed rag in your mouth until you passed out gagging... 

Now here you were, watching him as he palmed his hardness in front of you.

"i thought X-men were good guys." You spit, arms crossed over your chest as you watch him touch himself.

He shrugs with a little smirk on the right side of his face. "I wouldn't call myself a good guy. Never have. Saving the world is one thing... but I think I'm owed a little something on the side."

You laugh at that, a bark of a laugh that signals the disbelief that he's actually speaking to you right now, saying such things. "I don't owe you shit!"

"Maybe not. Doesn't matter though, because I'm gonna let you go." Logan groans, stroking a long, hard drag down the line of his cock in his pants.

This makes you narrow your eyes, suspicious. "What do you mean?"

"I'm gonna let you go. Gonna let you make a run for it. Here." He tosses a knife to the bed, making you flinch but then you quickly grab it, eyeing him. He's still touching himself, but with an agonized sigh he lets go. You wonder if he was close... Logan stands up, opening the door to the small, one room cabin and letting you see the trees outside. "Half a mile west there's a road. Not used a whole lot but someone is bound to come by, pick you up. I'll give you a head start, and you can use that knife on me. You can kill me if you try hard enough. Little fighter like you, might even be able to get the slip on me."

You blink. This can't be real. "This is a trick, isn't it... you're gonna punish me for running, or, or for stabbing you..."

Logan shakes his head, gesturing out to where the sun was setting fast. "Nope, won't punish you for that. Just like a challenge, that's all."

"There's... there a catch, isn't there... something you aren't telling me."

For a moment his face is still, like he's trying to put on a poker face. Then, a smile breaks. "I've never been a good lair. yeah, there's something I'm not tell'n yuh, bub, but really, what choice do you have?"

As you rise from the bed, he stands back. You hold out the knife, and he keeps his hands up, palms towards you... his face was almost condescending... but what choice did you have. Once you back away several steps, you turn around and make a run for it. You weren't exactly sure his powers, but given his name was wolverine you were fairly certain speed was one of them.

"I'll count down from 100!" Logan calls after you, his voice starting to sound distant. "100... 99...98... keep running little bunny! 97... 96..."  You faintly hear the 95 before you're out of earshot, running as fast as your legs can take you through the woods. Jumping over logs and stumbling down hills, you run more than you have since your high school made you do a mile, your out of shape body struggling to take in oxygen. Tree branches smacked your face, leaves wet with dew, the little sticks drawing blood on your cheek but you don't dare stop, not for a second. 

Something zooms past you nearby, a rustling of bushes an the faint sound of '10' in your ear, before all goes still again. You're close, you have to be.

'5'

Shit, shit. You grip the knife in your fist as you try to pick up speed, tired legs carrying you as fast as they'll go but it's not enough.

Logan is in front of you, a broad smile on his face and hands gripping your shoulders to stop you. "One." 

You scream, stabbing him in the rib cage expecting him to shout in pain but instead he moans in pleasure. No time to process this, you kick him in the dick and shove him over, making a run for it again, but Logan grabs your foot, causing you to fall face first into the dirt and grass. Strong arms yank you, despite crawling as nothing, and suddenly you are under him. 

"No!" You try to get away, but he's too strong, too quick, pinning your hands down and he looms over you.

"Pretty little bunny... running so fast..." Logan cocks his head to the side. "Not quite fast enough, eh?" Leaning down, Logan licks a stripe up your cheek, tasting the blood on your face. "Tasty little bunny..."

Your hand with the knife continues to be pinned down, Logan bracing his entire weight on your wrist while he undoes his pants, freeing his cock from the restraints. The throbbing member lay heavy against your thigh, a size you can only guess from the feeling and for a moment you think he's going to take off your shorts the same way. Then, Logan placed his knuckles at the base of your shorts and suddenly there's a stinging, sharp pain running up your leg and to your waist.

"Fuck!!!" No one is around to hear you screaming, no one except Logan who thrust his fist out, tearing your shorts and underwear to literal shreds.

When cock is thrust into you, you can't even scream anymore as the sounds get lodged into your throat, trapped in there just as you are now, his body caging you.

"Fuck'n tight there, princess. Is that fear, or is that all you?" You respond with a slap to his face which only makes him fuck you harder. "Aha, I think that's all you, baby doll, you were soaking my fingers earlier. Creamy little pussy ready to squirt on a strangers hands."

"FUCK YOU!"

"You want me dead?"

"Yes!"

He releases your sore hand, but the knife still lays next to it. "Take your shot, why dontcha?"

Thinking fast, you grab the handle again and with a scream, you plunge it into his neck.

To your surprise he just grins broadly. What the fuck is wrong with him.

Again, again, again, you stab the knife into different parts of his body as he stabs between your legs, fucking with more more intensity, with loud moans, closer and closer to his release. His gruff pants in your ear mirror your screams, listening to Logan moan and groan and whimper as he ravages your helpless body when you realize... he likes it. He likes it and the wounds are healing as fast as you can cut him. 

"Pretty bunny..." He chuckles lowly, his hand gripping your sides so hard it feels like a pinch, your fragile non-mutant body nothing but a plaything for him. With a loud growl, Logan cums inside you, filling you up as he continues to fuck him cum inside you, streams of hot cum flooding inside you. How was he still hard? Movements begin to slow, but your exhaustion begins to take it's toll on you, giving up harming him and simply taking it. "That's it... that's my good girl. Give in to me, little bunny. Let me have you... I can make it so good." Logan thrusts up into you, hitting something so devastating and deep no one has before, his rough hand sliding to your center to caress your bud.

"I don't want it to be good..." You cry weakly, even as pleasure builds down in you.

"Sure yuh do... c'mon, pretty girl you can give it to me... don't fight it, it's useless. You're mine now, my bunny... cum for me..." Logan's demeanor changes, suddenly indulgent and begging, his facial hair tickling your skin as he nuzzles your neck. "Wanna feel it... Wanna feel my sweet bunny coming on my cock... becoming mine..." You can't fight it anymore, the thick stretch on him, his skilled hands, the sleepiness clouding your rational... and he feels it too. "There we go... that's my girl, all mine, huh? You're mine now my pet... yeah... all mine..." It was painfully delicious, the way he made you feel, how his hands seemed to know you so intimately... 

Then that chloroformed clothe was on your mouth again, his cock still buried hard inside you. You didn't fight this time, letting the release of sleep take you. 

Slowly, Logan began to grind his hips into your body again, his hands claw extending again as they slipped under your shirt. No cuts this time, only a few nicks before he shredded your shirt now, leaving you in tattered clothes as he felt you up. Logan's mouth was at your ear. "Can't have you fighting me this time, little bunny. I'm gonna get to know this sweet body, I'm gonna lean everything it likes..." He cups your breasts, tweaking at a bare nipple. "Gonna take good care of you."

As you fall asleep, you can hear a car driving nearby.

THANK YOU!!!!!

I am so excited to try out a new character!!!!!!

Unfortunetly, after I made the go fund me listed above my car's fucking starter went bad ;-; that'll be like $800. I'm struggling to get by. Please please pease consider making a donation or donating o my ko-fi or biy me a coffee all linked above!. If not, thats totally okay! Theres no presure.

If you are inclinded, please consider reblogging this post with my go fund me.

Likes, comments and reblogs are sooooo appriciated!!!

I knew I'm new to logan but if you like OScar Isaac or Pedro PAscal characters, consider checking out my other work!! thanks!!!

Tagging those who expressed interest or who i thought might like?

No presure if its not your thing! Comment if you want more dark logan!

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @reveric @wolverineswaifu @birbita @multiversed-daydreamer

love yuh!

[demonkinguwu]

The Three Subcon Bosses [My fanon version lol]

The trickster shadow, the wrathful queen, and the disappearing moon

Lore Below <3

Snatcher: Once was a kind lonely prince whose only talent was painting, often overlooked and ignored due to this. He fell in love with Vanessa quickly as she was the only one who understood the loneliness of his paintings. The two married after a year of courtship, but the prince worked hard to learn to rule by her side, even going to law school. Unfortunately, he ignored the terrible treatment by his frantic wife for fear of true loneliness until it was too late...

Now the kind prince turned into a terrible and manipulative shadow, using robbed souls and his smarts to grow as powerful as he is, growing to be the sole ruler of the Subcon Forest. He prefers to be in control and over-possessive of everything he deems 'his', including the terrible wife who killed him painfully. He despises her but deep down knows she's the only person who will ever truly care for him even as a monster so she gets to stay as his pathetic little toy <3

However, he can't help but enjoy the very small snippets of moments between them that remind him of a better time when they were young and naive. He can't help but smile as the princess Vanessa was once shines through that red mass of anger, oh how he wishes to rip open the beast and find his princess within it, safe and innocent as she used to be

Vanessa: She was once a kind and sweet princess filled with so much loneliness especially since her father ran away. On a visit to a foreign kingdom, she was immersed in the large gallery of paintings depicting how she felt perfectly, lonely. She soon fell for the painter, a kind but mischievous prince who was just as lonely as she was. But her horrible mother was jealous of her daughter's happiness and poisoned her heart and mind with her evil words, reminding the princess of her father who ran away. The princess' desperate thoughts turned dark and possessive, wanting the prince all to herself, even getting rid of her mother who she thought wanted her prince. The now Queen was more desperate, her heart and mind growing darker and bitter with each day that passed without her beloved... Soon it would all explode, taking every soul within Subcon with her.

After a few years of mindless wrath and pain, she 'cooled down'. Finally gaining sense and guilt, but since no one wished to accept her apologies, she learned not to care over such matters anymore. Her heart grew bitter, cold, and uncaring of much but the evil monster her beloved became. His very existence enrages her, reminding her that her kind sweet prince is gone and all she has is this thing, this terrible and evil shadow who took everything from her. But even so, she can never get rid of him, for he is the only one who will 'care' for her, who could relieve her of her loneliness even if his actions are cruel and taunting. She doesn't want to be truly alone, but he is the only one she can truly trust, so he is the only intruder who will remain safe from her terrible wrath even if she hates him so. Though she knows her prince is gone, she relishes the small brief moments she could see a flicker of him through the monster's wicked being. Oh, how she wishes she could grab her prince in that brief second and never let him go.

Moonjumper: He was once a naive but adventurous lad, a time traveler who shone bright with the moon. Crashing into the strange planet, he met a cold princess whose heart was as cold as ice. He felt understood as he didn't understand what love was either, so he decided to stay with the princess and become her king to find out what love was. They soon had a princess who they named Vanessa. The king loved his daughter very much but didn't love his title or his wife, for he was a being of freedom. Without confronting his wife, he planned to take Vanessa and escape, but he left her behind once his wife figured out his plot. His wife, who grew to love him, was heartbroken and distraught over his betrayal, and so she cursed him with her magic to death, over and over again.

The man became a distorted time rift, cold and alone, wanting nothing more than to find someone to stay with him in his lonely horizon, especially his little princess.

Hundreds of years have passed, and he watches on with great pain as the sweet girl his daughter was once turned into a monster. All thanks to the monster who took over Subcon with that disgusting smirk, he made his daughter the monster she is! And she was no better! Being easily influenced by that monster and turning into a monster herself, they were both horrible beasts! Both were responsible for taking away his little princess! Once he has the chance, he'll get rid of them both! But since he is much weaker and scared of them, he'll abide his time until he can finally avenge his sweet daughter. For now, he searches for someone he could keep in his lonely prison, someone who he can raise to be just as perfect as his little princess...

[0crooked-arcade0]

Something about the Markiplier cinematic universe I think needs to be talked about is the fact that literally 80% of the reason it's so compelling is because it doesn't take itself seriously at all. It's just a story that's an absurdly chaotic mess, and I mean that positively.

Who Killed Markplier is a tragedy at its core, a very well done example of, even if you try to do all the right things, sometimes you still fail, and there's no way to fix what's already been said and done.

'DAMIEN' has hauntingly beautiful scenery, it's an outsiders perspective of an altercation between two unreliable narrators that gives little context to its premise, immersing us in our place as a bystander.

All that being said, it's juxtaposed by;

-The man cast ending up in space with zero explanation.

-Two men getting into a fistfight in a movie theater parking lot in borad daylight in a violently slapstick manner.

-William telling the group he once got sucked into jumanji and nobody even questioning it.

-The viewers very existence being used to play up a series of visual gags with absolutely no context, (Pocket Sand, for example.)

-Darks tendency to pull a 'draw me like one of your French girls' while speaking to us in fucking riddles

-The stunt dummy being kept in after the editing phase

-Literally 90% of the shit Actor does despite being a revenge fueled monster, he wears crocs everywhere like c'mon

-HeeHoo

Honestly I think it's great because it allows you to play with the worldbulding extensively as there's debatably no concrete facts one way or another. I'm writing at the moment and using it to my advantage and will probably post more about that soon.

[beensbaee]

𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

summary; neteyam has always avoided y/n due to the fact that he cannot trust himself around her - but what happens when he is tasked to teach her?

pairing; neteyam!teacher x y/n

word count; 3.5k

HER BEWITCHING BOY

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

It was no surprise Y/n and Lo'ak were such good friends. Both of them had the same wild nature that always got them into trouble - and a distinctive laughter that caught everyone's attention.

Unlike Lo'ak, she was the tiniest bit more responsible. She was also more immersed in the clan too - often spending her free time playing with the younger children and asking the elders all sorts of questions - even finding new paths in the forest with Kiri to travel on.

Her relationship with little Tuktirey was just as sweet. She'd often find all sorts of ways to have the girl giggling and smiling, whether it was by making faces or telling her stories so silly that Tuk couldn't even contain her amusement.

There was just one Sully kid she wasn't close with. Neteyam was a year older than her - and he'd always kept his distance from Y/n.

She was not blind. She'd see how he'd be sitting comfortably with his family until Y/n would come. Even Jake had seen the way the boy's smile would falter as he would suddenly begin looking anywhere that wasn't towards her - giving her a curt greeting before excusing himself and leaving.

She'd try not to look hurt - but everyone saw how her ears fell in embarrassment at his behavior towards her. Lo'ak would brush it off, telling her to ignore him. Kiri herself would be confused but would always choose not to say anything as she took it upon herself to make the girl feel more welcomed and forget about her eldest brother's reaction.

Neteyam always seemed conflicted when his parents would bring up his apparent dislike for her - sometimes claiming he didn't notice he was treating her differently, and other times remaining silent when questioned why he treated her like she was something to avoid completely.

The truth was that he himself did not know either.

Well he knew, but refused to accept the fact.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Y/n was shuddering, Lo'ak howling with laughter as Kiri rubbed her arm soothingly

"It is ok, Y/n. Not everyone is perfect at aiming." Kiri said as a way to comfort the girl, discreetly kicking Lo'ak's leg and giving him a look that quickly stopped his laughter

"Eywa, I could have killed him." She groaned, hiding her face with her hands as Kiri looked at her with a frown

"But you didn't!" Lo'ak chirped up as Y/n sighed, slinging off the bow that had been on her back and holding the wood firmly in her hands

"As if he didn't already hate me enough." She mumbled, Lo'ak finally turning towards her with concern

"He doesn't hate you, Y/n. He's just... dumb?" He tried, but Y/n only sent him a sad smile

"He's a hundred times smarter than you!" She laughed, Lo'ak rolled his eyes as Kiri joined in with her own grin

"Come on, it is time to eat." Kiri said as the three teens made their way to the central part of the village where the clan gathered to eat meals together

After fighting over who sat next to whom, the lineup consisted of Kiri, Y/n, and Lo'ak in a row - everyone satisfied with the seating arrangement as they conversed amongst themselves. Jake and Neytiri sat a few rows down from them - and Y/n's eyes caught the familiar muscled back of Neteyam Sully as he sat down next to his parents and grandmother.

She winced, heart burning with shame as she looked at his bandaged leg. The same leg she had accidentally hit when wielding a bow.

Jake had insisted she'd be fine hours earlier when she refused to hunt with the weapon, handing her the bow and arrow and giving her a simple target  to practice her aim with while the hunting party was taking a break.

She'd usually hunted with a simple knife, expertly too. She'd excelled at many things - but her skills with a bow was not one of them

She'd fired it, her arm shaking with fear as her hand slipped. The arrow didn't stay true to its path at all and flew completely out of her sight. Moments after firing, they heard a sharp yell - Jake only turned towards her in disbelief with his mouth hanging open. Never had she seen her clan leader in such denial.

Her embarrassment was incomparable as she and Jake ran in the direction of the yell, only to find Neteyam kneeling over in pain as he held the gash on his leg with his hands, blood running over his fingers as he applied pressure to the wound.

Thank the Great Mother the arrow merely grazed him. Y/n had been brought to near tears as she apologized profusely for her actions. Neteyam merely bowed his head, mumbling that he was fine and clearly embarrassed himself by the situation as Jake quickly patched up the boy with his on the go medical kit.

He got up the second he was patched, insisting he was fine and leaving as Y/n finally gathered the courage to approach him

"Neteyam, Neteyam wait!" She pleaded, her voice desperate as he visibly froze in his path, slowly turning around to meet her eyes

"I know we are not friends - but please understand, I had no intention of hurting you. I am so sorry." She said, her voice was strained as she spoke, eyes pained as she struggled to convey her true guilt.

He remained silent, looking at her so intensely that she felt her back straightening subconsciously. He parted his lips as if to say something, mouth moving as he struggled to find the words before clamping it shut and shaking his head

"It is fine, Y/n. I am fine, please do not worry about me." He finally said, his voice foreign and eyes hard before he turned away from her, his muscles tense as he walked away.

She wanted to cry in that moment, her eyes stinging with shame as she turned away, unable to understand the clear aversion the Sully boy had for her.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Neteyam ate his food silently, occasionally cracking a smile at his fathers ridiculous jokes.

He couldn't stop himself from looking back to Lo'ak and Kiri, but his eyes didn't stay on them. They moved to the girl between the two.

The familiar feeling of his heart thundering in his chest returned as he looked away once again, closing his eyes while he struggled to keep himself from marching over to the trio and pulling her away.

He hated Y/n. He hated her so much sometimes.

He hated how he was reminded of her everywhere he turned. He hated how she'd braid flowers into her hair and how her clothes were always so out of place from the familiar brown and greens the clan wore - her pink and purple accessories only pulling his eyes towards her even more.

He hated how he couldn't control his heart around her. Never had he felt so out of control. He hated how easily she'd be able to have him do anything if she just asked, her voice a melody he'd listen to from afar - something similar to a drug. Something he desired so much but refused to have - the fear of addiction holding him back.

He'd promised himself it was just a small crush when he'd first seen her vibrant smile. 

He told himself anyone would have fallen in love with the way she so selflessly loved. 

He had to force himself to look away from her when she was doing simple tasks - eating, weaving baskets - even just praying - he'd find her eyes closed and content as her face was composed with eternal peace he wished to find.

He'd told himself to stay away from her completely because she wasn't someone he could trust himself to be around. The feeling of simply not understanding what he felt was what scared him so much. But her beauty - one that had his knees so weak he had to look away just to stand without faltering, was what terrified him the most.

Her beauty wasn't something unknown - she was the most enchanting na'vi in the clan through his eyes. Her delicate cheeks and round eyes with fluttering lashes had him in awe at times. But, as he watched another boy approach her as she ate - her curious eyes meeting him as he quickly struck up a conversation with the trio had him blinking rapidly.

He was seemingly talking to all three, but Neteyam did not miss the way the mystery boy's eyes would trail back to Y/n to seemingly try and catch a glimpse of her.

He clenched his jaw, looking down at the food in front of him with furrowed brows. Suddenly, he wasn't so hungry anymore.

He couldn't even be mad. He had no say over who spoke to her - and this wasn't the first time.

He'd seen numerous boys approach her before, and every time, he'd be watching the interaction from afar. Fuming with a clenched jaw as he struggled to kill the jealousy that was running through him like a storm.

The only thing that prevented him from intervening was Y/n's gently but sad smile as she rejected Every. Single. One. Nothing was more satisfying than watching her shake her head - indicating a polite no from her that had each boy walking away with slumped shoulders.

As if Y/n had felt his burning gaze, she lifted her head to look directly at him.

Her eyes - they had him swallowing the lump in his throat as he looked right back at her, refusing to break eye contact. 

She blinked rapidly as she stared back, her gaze struggling to hold the intensity in his eyes as she finally looked away.

He left dinner right after it ended, returning to his hammock with a pounding headache as he struggled to sort his thoughts.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

"Neteyam."

He slowly opened his eyes to find his mother standing over him, her eyes concerned as Neteyam quickly sat up with his brows pulled together in concern

"Is something wrong, Mother?" He asked quickly, his voice tired as she frowned

"Yes. You went to bed so early. Are you feeling ok?" She asked gently as Neteyam automatically nodded his head

"Mother - I am fine." He said, but his voice wasn't convincing enough to her. Just as she was about to say something, Jake walked towards them with hurried steps once he heard their voices

"You awake, boy?" He asked, moving to stand next to Neytiri as Neteyam nodded his head, his annoyance present in his sigh

"Why is everyone asking if I am ok?" He questioned as Jake and Neytiri looked at each other - their eyes obviously having some sort of an exchange he was not apart of

"You seem distracted lately." Was what Jake settled on as Neteyam remained silent

Quickly, Jake's eyes lit up as if he thought of something. He turned to Neytiri with a glint in his eyes that had her look at him expectedly

"Now, I need a favor from you. Think you can do it?" Jake asked, his voice firm as Neteyam nodded his head

"Of course. What do you need?" He answered dutifully, his mind still hazy from being awoken from his slumber

"I need you to teach Y/n how to wield a bow and fire an arrow."

Jake didn't miss the way Neteyam nearly flinched at his words, his eyes widening the slightest bit as well. But, he remained still and silent and gave them no further insight as to how he felt by the request 

Neytiri watched him carefully as Neteyam finally nodded his head, his knuckles pale from gripping the sides of his hammock so hard as his lips were set in a firm line.

"Yes sir."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Y/n shuffled her feet as she watched Neteyam secure the last few necessary things they needed for the next few hours they were spending in the forest together inside of his bag.

His hands moved so gracefully - Y/n couldn't help but watch him as he placed one last arrow on his back, turning to her and gesturing his head towards the exit of the tent and towards the forest.

"Come on Y/n." He said, turning his back towards her as he led her into the forest, a clear destination in his mind as she recognized a few trees with markings on them with the path he was leading her on - clearly targets previous na'vi had used to practice with their bows and arrows on.

She felt her cheeks heat up as she realized the fact that these targets were probably made for children to practice their skills on.

Hunting with a bow and arrow wasn't required - and Y/n knew from the start she wasn't very good with one, so she didn't bother ever picking up one. But now, it seemed she'd have to learn how to master it, one way or another.

She turned to Neteyam, her voice quieter than usual as she spoke her true thoughts

"Do you think I am capable of even learning how to use a bow this late? Especially after..." She asked, her embarrassment evident in her voice as he turned to her with the same intense gaze she was used to seeing in his eyes whenever he looked at her.

"Well, of course you are. Mistakes happen." He said, silence following after his words as he saw the hesitation in her eyes - maybe it was his words, or maybe it was the fact that they'd never been alone together - and that he'd never really even spoken this much to her.

Finally, he smiled. It was such a small movement on his face, but she'd seen how his eyes had softened as the smallest of smile lines appeared. It was a change.

"Come here."

She obliged without hesitation, standing next to him only seconds later as he handed her his bow and an arrow. She grabbed his bow with careful hands, her fingers running over the intricately beautiful engravings in the wood as she admired it.

He was watching her, his gaze unwavering as he saw the small twitch of her lips as they formed a smile. She didn't notice his gaze - too focused on the bow, and he took the opportunity to look at her up close.

He'd never allowed himself to be this close to her - after the last time there had been such little distance between them her intoxicating scent had been the thing to keep him up for hours. But now, he closed his eyes and could only inhale it - his tail flicking as his senses recognized the sweet smell

"Hold it like this." He instructed

He didn't even recognize his own voice - it came out much rougher than he intended it to, but he forced himself to focus on the way her hands held his bow - searching for any mistakes with the way she was positioned that might be why she was having trouble firing an arrow.

His fingers mistakingly brushed over hers - and he felt himself letting out a breath to steady himself and calm his heart - it seemed like Y/n had also been thrown off by the small touch between them as she quickly blinked while staring at their hands.

Neteyam finally realized her mistake as he noticed the way her fingers went straight over the wood she was holding when they should have curved over the slanted piece.

He didn't trust himself to say anything without his voice giving away exactly how he felt, so he wordlessly moved her fingers - cupping his hand over hers and moving it into position and nodding his head

She met his eyes once he gave her the cue to fire her arrow, and she unleashed it - the strong string snapping it forward with impeccable speed as it hit the target right in its center

She looked at the target in disbelief as she let out a victory war cry one would use in battle - startling Neteyam instantly as she clapped her hands in pure excitement

"I got it! Neteyam I got it!" She exclaimed, her eyes shining with so much appreciation that she leaped towards the boy and tackled him with a hug

He only yelped as he fell backward and onto the grass, her body on top of his as she hugged him tightly - laughter spilling out of her as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her - before tightening them and reciprocating her ecstatic embrace

They stayed like this for a few moments - both of them holding each other so close that every single previous cold and awkward encounter of the two of them before faded away - the two so lost in the moment as they laughed

Finally, she pulled away - her eyes still crinkled with joy as Neteyam felt himself quieting once again as he stared at her. But this time, it was not with the usual emotionless stare - but with a gaze so open and with no facade, she too quieted as she felt the atmosphere change.

Finally he looked away, unable to look at Y/n any longer as he began speaking

"I am sorry for how I have treated you in the past. I... it was shameful." He finally spoke, words Y/n had been wanting to hear for so long - she didn't even believe he'd said them

She knew he had one of the biggest hearts ever - the snippets she'd catch of him with his siblings had confirmed that. She knew there was a reason he typically avoided her - and she had a very good feeling she was about to find out what it was.

"It is ok." She said, the sweetest smile on her face as Neteyam felt his heart crack at the sight

All the times he'd been so awful, so cold and distant - she'd forgiven. Because she had a heart of gold - something Neteyam felt he didn't deserve. Something he thought he wasn't worthy of.

"Y/n..." He struggled to finish the sentence as he stared at her lips, parted and simply begging for him - the urge to press his lips against hers was overwhelming

"Y/n, I do not deserve someone like you. I could not look you in the eyes - or speak to you all this time because of how I felt. I feel so much for you - it is like my heart is set on fire when I look at you sevin -"

The word had slipped from his lips - but she'd heard it.

Sevin. Pretty

She felt her heart flutter as she heard his words. He thought she was pretty.

He smiled at her reaction before shaking his head and reaching for her hands hesitantly. She reached forward slowly, lacing their fingers together with sparkling eyes as he cracked a grin

He knew she felt something for him too - because of the numerous boys that had pursued her, she never held their hands the way she was holding his - nor did she stare at them with eyes so round and filled with such a tender kindness as she did with him.

She leaned forward, gently brushing her lips against his to see his reaction. But he merely pulled her back in - his mouth enveloping hers as he moved his arms around her.

He kissed away all her confusion that night, spending the hours meant for her training with her hands in his hair and his face pressed against hers.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

six full moons later ��⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It was like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

The tense Neteyam who'd always been frowning was replaced by one who couldn't stop smiling. He was the one who'd be more eager for Y/n to come over then his own siblings, the one who made Lo'ak gag dramatically whenever he and Y/n did anything even remotely romantic - the one who looked forward to seeing her the most.

In the beginning he wouldn't even stand next to her - and now, he refused to be separated from her.

They'd sneak out at night to gaze at the stars - a favorite pastime of theirs now as Y/n would lay her head on his chest and tell Neteyam anything and everything that came to her mind. Neteyam would do the same - saying things that would have Y/n giggling as she nuzzled her nose against his skin

"Tomorrow, you and I will have a date night." Neteyam said proudly, Y/n tilting her head up and towards with a smile 

"What is a date night?" She asked, her hands mindlessly playing with his fingers as Neteyam grinned

"My parents have date nights all the time - they go out to have their own private time, away from everyone else. You and I could pick all sorts of fruits to snack on - climb all sorts of trees with no one to tell us what to do." He said, voice gentle with his lips set into a soft smile

She smiled, gently moving her hand to his face as she traced over his freckles that glowed in the moonlight. He looked radiant in the day - but at night, he was bewitching. There was a certain thing about him and the night that comforted her more than anything else in the world

"Well then, we should have date night every night." She insisted as he laughed, the sound a melody to her ears as she merely smiled against him - the stars shining above the two for every date night they would spend together.

i just want to tag @erenjaegerwifee for the request/idea! thank u boo for the inspo i hope you like it 🥺 took me a couple THOUSAND words to reach the part where he teaches her & they confess but i got there! 😅🤍

[dmitriene]

𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗦𝗜𝗠𝗢𝗡 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗩𝗜𝗥𝗚𝗜𝗡 𝗚𝗙 𝗣𝗧 𝟭.

❝𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧❞ 𝘣𝘧 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺 𝘹 𝘨𝘧 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ❝𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦❞ 𝘗𝘜𝘙𝘌 𝘍𝘓𝘜𝘍𝘍, 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘚𝘔𝘜𝘛, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘥𝘳𝘺𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵

 ✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

simon is extremely careful because you both know that he has a heavy soldier’s hand and he is a man who grew up as a soldier, capable of turning into a living killing machine and, in principle, a meat grinder, but not next to you, no.

he treats you like a jewel, many people want to protect what is closest to them, especially if they consider it more fragile than them, and the same applies to you, you don’t have to be a completely defenseless porcelain doll — just being an ordinary civilian, unlike simon, is enough, and he already wants to act around you like a loyal dog around something fragile.

in your relationship with him, the detail that you were a virgin was revealed extremely quickly, when, in a stream of hot kisses and wet traces along the neck to the collarbones, his hands slid to your crotch and you somehow squeaked in fear, slightly pushing his hands away, making him mentally worry — «did i do something wrong? she doesn't want that? am i hurried things up?»

one glance at the dark brown abyss of his eyes is enough to understand that he is immersed in a stream of thoughts from which it would be nice to get him out before he plunges deeper than necessary, your hands carefully touch his cheeks, warm from the blush and recent kisses, stroking his cheekbones and pressing your nose to his to convince him with a gentle whisper — «hey, si.. it's alright, i'm fine, you did nothing wrong okay? i just didn't — didn't had anything like that before»

light eyelashes flutter like a fan when he looks at you and his gaze widens in surprise, brown eyes become as if cat like round when he sharply releases a sigh that he didn’t know he was holding, gently placing his slightly rough palms on top of yours, nervously licking the line of slightly thin lips and nodding with relief, kissing the button of your nose like a child, smiling and muttering hoarsely, gradually moving away from the previously heated atmosphere — «yeah.. yeah, sorry love, got it, we're not in a hurry, step by step, gonna — gonna take my time with my precious girl»

and his word was restrained, you moved forward in small steps while he explored the world of intimacy as if anew, but now with you — no rush, promiscuous connections and unknown surroundings, only his charming girlfriend, who in the end turned out to be quite enthusiastic, otherwise how to explain how it all came to this.

it seems to him that you begged him about this for weeks, just like you, because after that situation when he found out about your inexperience, he seemed to begin to be afraid, and when small kisses turned into quite hot and with a lot of saliva, hands reaching out to pull his belt, he removed them and continued to kiss you, allowing you to feel the bulge in his pants pressing into you and which you wanted to feel in every possible way, but you were like a child from whom all the sweet things were taken away.

most often, all such sessions, be it on the couch while watching a movie or in the bedroom before bed, when a couple of innocent kisses before bed turned into a practical desire to devour each other — they became just dry humping, strong fingers squeezed your hips and slowly moved them along his legs, causing your panties, already soaked to the limit, to stick to your folds while you whined and whimpered every now and then, clinging to his shoulders and begging for more — «pl-llease, mph, s-si.. want you.. want you inside so bad..»

he controlled himself well even when he heard your charming whines, and it seemed to you that he was deliberately mocking you, because he only whispered backhandedly — «no, love, gonna take more time than that, need you to be patient, yea?» kissing the top of your head and deliberately jerking his leg, making you wiggle your clothed pussy against his knee and shudder in an instant, numb orgasm, digging your nails into his shoulders and practically scratching them through the fabric of his shirt, moaning and mewling unintelligibly while he literally felt how your cunt clenches and unclenches around nothing, gushing into the cotton of your panties and the thin fabric of your shorts.

your patience was rewarded, to the extreme, one way or another you moved a little further, finding yourself between his legs with his wide dick lying exactly on your tongue, while saliva flowed down your chin, maybe you were the initiator of what was happening, crawling between his legs while he watched TV, his muscular legs spread wide apart, allowing you to gaze at the imprint of his girthy cock in his gray sweatpants, fidgeting with your cheek against the inside of his thigh just like a cat, looking at him absolutely innocently and batting your eyelashes, and how can he refuse when you look so adorable, so needy?

you don’t remember how long you’ve been sitting between his legs, the texture of the carpet uncomfortably rubs against your knees, even if it’s soft, while you with half lidded eyes studyly lick his big shaft, humming and emitting vibrations when he gently helps you with his hand, placing it on the back of your head and gently helping you move, while your tongue circled around the tip, picking up pearls of the precum on your tongue, slowly releasing him from your mouth to gently kiss the head, causing simon to growl and twitch as you slowly began to swallow him back, moaning and squirming on the carpet, looking for a friction for your throbbing pussy, causing him to stroke your forehead with his thumb and mumble deeply — «good girl, fuck — just keep it nice and warm here, yeah? gonna teach you how to.. how to do it properly, sweetheart»

he is so gentle and careful, he is in no hurry and asks you to pat his arm or leg, looking where you can reach, if something goes wrong — but you are so eager to do him good that you allow him to push your throat onto his throbbing dick even through the strange tingling sensation around your lips, running your tongue along his bulging veins as he continues to pump you slowly along his cock, which jumps up and rubs against the roof of your mouth, making you practically purr, allowing him to push deeper into the tightness of your throat.

but suddenly you close your eyes and your face contrasts with pain, your nails cling to his leg, causing him to pull you back in concern, instantly noticing the cut in the corner of your lip, which is why he immediately hides his still erect member in his boxers and sweatpants, hastily, gently squeezing your cheeks while your eyes gradually become wet from an uncomfortable burning sensation — «fuckin' hell, i told you to .. — shit, sweetheart, m'so sorry, had to notice first, i'm sorry»

you shake your head, additionally feeling that your jaw is aching, you don’t want him to feel like he’s to blame, so you gently kiss him on the cheek, looking at him guiltily and pursing your lip, purring hoarsely — «noo, it's my fault, you told me to tap you.. just.. wanted you to feel good, si»

he waves his head, stroking your hair and kissing you along the entire perimeter of your face, sensually and surprisingly airily, picking you up on his lap and adjusting his bulge, noticing how your gaze slowly slides between his legs, to which he hides your face in his neck, chuckling and continuing to kiss you tenderly, his fingers tracing circles and stripes along your spine, making you giggle at his words — «another time, lovie, you had enough for today, yep? best fucking girl in the world, wanna take care of me so much» ‹𝟹

one way or another, simon was really very worried, otherwise how to explain the fact that he practically did not let you out of his arms, did not allow anything more than small pecks on your cheeks or nose, and constantly sat you down on his muscular thighs to smear the corner of your lip with ointment, stroking your cheek extremely tenderly, watching you pout charmingly due to the fact that your training is delayed, and apparently for a long time, but can you really blame him for worrying about you, his precious girl?

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[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (11/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, smut, the angst, semi-public intimacy, cockwarming, description of someone being shot, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He got his girlfriend back.

Not quite in the way he had imagined, but the thought of him being her boyfriend and her taking it seriously made him feel a wave of confidence after years of doubt.

It had to do not so much with the fact that he had gained what he wanted, but rather with the idea that although his grandfather had accustomed him to the thought that there was a path for him only by his side, he now knew otherwise.

Criston Cole had been the first person to reveal to him how tense the situation was among their men, how furious they were that Otto had decided out of sheer spite to bet on Aegon, his pawn, putting too much power in his hands.

Aegon's orders and the fact that some of their bodyguards now had to listen to him made them turn to him, looking for another alternative.

He was their alternative and presented them with his plan.

Having known them for so many years, aware of what their strengths and weaknesses were, he assigned them tasks, spreading his net over the city, slowly tightening the noose around all the places that had ever belonged to Larys Strong.

He had promised his Rhaenys that he would never kill or harm anyone again, at least not in the way he had done so far, so he decided to rely on his wits and logic. He offered the old owners to help pay their debts and cooperate with them in exchange for them giving up the clubs without a fight.

Those who did not agree experienced a loud gunfight and a bit of fear: he paid the police in advance to stay out of it, so no police car came to the addresses indicated even when someone called the police station.

His grandfather was furious and that pleased him most of all.

By focusing on the fight with Daemon he had completely let go of the subject of Larys' legacy and had paid the price. He also felt pride, because in a way he had regained what belonged to the father of the woman he loved, so it was also a tribute to her.

She only allowed him to see her once a week, but they wrote to each other constantly: he out of sheer longing, she to make sure he was still alive.

Sitting on the couch in Heavenly Beach, despite his employees sitting around him, partying with the girls who were apparently most attracted to gangsters, he sat with his head in his phone, writing a message to her, feeling like a teenager in high school.

He grinned involuntarily as he read her reply, feeling the thrill as he did every time she teased him.

She was trying to keep him at a distance and push him away, he knew that.

He swallowed hard when, a moment later, his phone vibrated and his eyes were presented with a photograph of her lying on her stomach, on her body only her panties and top, from under which a little fragment of her breast was peeking out, pressed against the sheet, her loose hair spread in disarray, her lips parted in a sweet, dreamy, warm expression.

He stared at the picture for a moment, feeling involuntarily that he grew hot, his manhood swollen in his trousers. He ran his hand over his chin, sinking into the world of his fantasies, having not been able to experience fulfilment with her for weeks despite her allowing him to touch her.

Partly.

"What are you doing, boss? Have some fun with us. Alice is lovely and lonely." Said Allan, embracing one of the girls, pretty and slim, who giggled quietly, looking him boldly straight in the face.

He got up without a word and went out the back exit to smoke a cigarette, dialing her phone number on the way. She didn't answer for a long time, as was her usual habit, but after a while he heard her sigh on the other end, indicating her impatience.

"– I asked you so many times – why are you doing this? –"

"– I wanted to hear your voice –" He hummed, taking a drag, tilting his head back, enjoying this moment.

Silence answered him on the other side.

"– my grandfather is trying to contact me – to make a deal – to make me his successor again – but I don't know if I want it – what do you think? –" He asked, taking a drag again, the tip of his cigarette turning red with a quiet hiss.

He heard her swallow hard, horrified by his words.

"– don't do it – don't go back there –" She whispered.

They were both silent for a long moment.

"– I'm worried about my mother – she's torn between Criston and her father, she's begging me to come back – she and Cole had an affair for many years, even before my father died –" He said indifferently, looking up at the sky, spotting the outline of a crescent moon among the darkness.

"– did you know about this? –" She asked shocked, and he sighed heavily.

"– yes –"

His girlfriend grunted, trying to speak quietly.

"– she's not part of all this – let her stay out of it – your grandfather's reign won't last forever – Otto wants you to worry about such things – he knows you love and care for her – he'll treat her and Helaena as bargaining chips –"

He nodded, letting out a loud puff of smoke through his nose, having exactly the same opinion as her, surprised at how much peace he felt.

She was the only one who could understand him.

She was the only one he could get advice from.

She was the only one he could trust.

"Thank you. Sleep well."

"I'm here for you." She muttered quickly, as if she feared he was about to hang up.

He hummed under his breath, extinguishing the remnants of his cigarette on the metal basket, feeling the warmth in his heart at her words.

"I know."

The next day, the sight of her in the library filled him with both euphoria and frustration – he knew she wasn't wearing a bra to annoy him, at the same time tempting him when he knew he couldn't take her, and wanting him to know that any other men could look shamelessly at her nipples.

All his anger at her and what she was doing to him vanished when she pulled her shirt off, her half-naked body covered from the others only by a few rows of bookcases.

Thank goodness it was summer and no one went there.

Her nipples were swollen and hard under his tongue, her breast plump and soft between his fingers. The smell of her naked skin, the heat that emanated from her, her hands clenched in his hair, holding him close drove him mad. His groan vibrated through her soft skin as he felt her hips begin to roll deliberately back and forth, rubbing against his throbbing, swollen manhood.

"– fuck, let me – please – just this once –" He mumbled, switching from one of her breasts to the other, slightly larger, which could not be seen at first glance.

The thought of being so close to her and yet not being able to have all of her, like he had then, that night, was driving him crazy.

This was her punishment for what he had done to her.

He sighed as she rose suddenly from her knees, putting her T-shirt over her head, his hand involuntarily going to her calf, wanting to hold her, his body hot with desire, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

Not yet.

Just a moment longer.

"– baby –"

"– next week Professor Addams is organising a private excavations two hours away from our town – it's a site in one of the medieval fortresses of our region, very important and he needs volunteers – I've offered to let you come and to count it as your student practices, so that you would have to make up less of them during the academic year – professor will rent rooms for all of us in a hotel nearby – if you come and do your best, I'll let you sleep with me –" She said lightly, throwing him a calm, expectant look, like a teacher looking at her student.

He swallowed hard and stood up with her, shocked, his length pulsed hard at her words.

I'll let you sleep with me.

"– do you mean it? –" He asked with difficulty, unsure if he could stand it any longer, if he knew whether he could pass the next test she wanted to put before him.

"– yes, but it's two weeks – you'd then either have to give up your job, or drive to do your errands at night and come back in the morning –" She explained as if nothing had ever happened, grabbing her backpack.

He caught her around the waist and pulled her aggressively to himself, making her body slam into his, his heart in his throat.

"– promise me –"

Instead of words, she did what she'd forbidden him to do since they'd started dating: her wonderfully moist, swollen lips pressed against his, and he groaned loudly, shocked. He sighed, pressing her body closer to his as her slick tongue slid between his teeth, licking him invitingly, making his cock swell painfully hard in his trousers.

I'm not going to make it, he thought, I'm just going to rip her panties off and fuck her on the floor.

She, however, pushed him away, looking at him with her mouth wide open, in her eyes pleading, warmth, affection.

Everything he wanted so badly.

"– I'll write you all the details later – take it seriously –" She mumbled out with a pain from which he felt his heart squeeze, not knowing how to act, feeling with desperation that he was unable to wait any longer.

"– I love you –" He muttered, something in her gaze from which he grew hot.

"– I love you too –"

He stared at her like an idiot, feeling like he was running out of breath, because here she was, for the first time responding to his confession, for the first time saying those words.

I love you too.

He felt something inside him break, that if he didn't feel her right away he would just start crying.

"– I need you – please –"

"– be there –" She mumbled and walked out, leaving him alone.

He thought it was pathetic that he was so desperate that he hid his face in his hands and burst out crying.

He longed for her closeness, for her tenderness, and she only gave him moments when he craved hours, days, months.

He thought heaven and earth might collapse, but he had to go to these goddamn excavations, if only to spend two weeks fucking her all night.

"Two weeks? You shouldn't disappear for that long. The situation is precarious." Said Cole, shaking his head, sitting with him over a drink that same evening.

"I'll be available at night, I'll come by a few times to keep an eye on things. It's only a two-hour drive from here. This case is really important to me." He said, and Criston hummed with understanding.

"I'll do my best, but let's keep in touch."

He nodded at his words.

"Call if something happens."

Even the news that perhaps her ex would be part of their escapade couldn't spoil his mood: he wasn't sure he'd been this excited and terrified at the same time since he was a small child.

On the one hand, it was a dream come true for him, on top of it being in her company; on the other, it was a leap into the deep end of the unknown in a group of people who were strangers and who he didn't know if they would accept him.

He couldn't help the fact that he didn't like to talk much, that others' questions made him uncomfortable, that he felt cornered when too many people looked at him at once.

Nevertheless, as soon as he got the message from her that Daemon had been gone for a few hours, waiting a few streets behind the hotel so as not to arouse suspicion, he pulled up in the car park and got out of the car, looking around.

He thought she would be waiting for him, but he couldn't see her anywhere.

This made him do what he hated to do, which was to ask a stranger something.

A couple of students, looking at him with surprise in their eyes, showed him the way, telling him that his girlfriend was in the area where the research was to take place.

Walking there from a distance, he thought with awe that it was a huge project: there was a gigantic stone fortress towering over them, around which he understood there had been many wooden houses in medieval times, of which there was now no trace.

He swallowed hard when he heard her voice from afar and stepped uncertainly into one of the tents, all eyes on him.

He felt warmth in his heart seeing that she smiled at the sight of him, her eyes shining with pure happiness.

She loved him.

Not even the rage at the sight of Robb could take away the satisfaction he felt at what he had done to her, at the ease with which her body had taken him in as soon as the door from their hotel room had closed behind them.

He wasn't sure if his brain was functioning at all during this act, because he was too stunned by pleasure and desire, the simple, primitive thrusting into her again and again with low, pathetic groans of delight.

She was so wonderfully warm, moist and soft, squeezing and enveloping his cock so perfectly, that he felt like crying.

His niece.

That night they made love twice more, completely bare, with no shame or regret, no thoughts of morality or propriety. What he focused on were her moans, her cunt squeezing him in convulsions of pleasure, dripping with her desire, his lips melting with hers in sticky, loud, deep kisses full of their tongues and saliva, their fingers entwined together in a tender embrace over her head.

They fell asleep cuddled into each other like little children, stirring with difficulty on the single, cramped bed exactly as they had then, eight years ago.

He felt, looking at her peaceful face immersed in sleep every time he awoke in the night, that he had regained something.

He had regained her.

In the morning, to their frustration, their alarm clock woke them up. They were both sleepy and half-unconscious when they showered together, soaping each other's bodies and hair, brushing their lips lazily against each other's, running their hands over each other's naked, wet bodies.

There was something wonderfully natural about the way her figure clung to his, seeking refuge in his embrace, his arms pressing her against his body, his hand stroking her hair, her eyes closed in complete peace.

They both felt it.

His niece froze and blinked when she saw him start to dress, putting on exactly the same clothes as usual.

"No. After all, we will be working in sand and dirt. I told you to take something to change into." She said, and he scratched his chin, recognising that perhaps, indeed, his black trousers and Tshirt were not a good idea for such heat.

"I took my tracksuit bottoms and some other old clothes, but I won't look very neat in that." He confessed with embarrassment, rummaging through his bag.

She knelt down beside him, looking through his things together, apparently trying to find something that would be suitable.

"You have to be comfortable first and foremost. And you have to have a baseball cap."

"What?"

"I took one for you. Otherwise you'll get sunstroke."

It occurred to him, when he'd put on everything she'd told him to, that he looked like a drunk from under the shop. He was relieved when it turned out that she herself had dressed in a similar way, a white Tshirt and tracksuit shorts on her body, a baseball cap on her head, her hair tied up in a braid.

If they were going to look like drunks from under the shop, then at least together.

As soon as they reached the tent where they were all supposed to gather it became apparent that if he had come dressed the way he wanted to, he would have made an idiot of himself.

They all looked alike, dressed in bright, light clothes that might as well have been pyjamas. He pressed his lips together, spotting Robb among the other students.

He hoped he had heard her moans as he walked past their room.

How good she felt with him as he took her for himself again and again.

The professor greeted them and assigned them their tasks. To his surprise and relief at the same time, the man divided them into three groups. One was to be led by himself, another by Robb and the third by his girlfriend.

Her words that she was his assistant and how much the professor trusted her were not mere boasts, he thought with admiration.

He had, of course, been assigned to her group and was relieved at the thought that for the rest of his stay he wouldn't have to look at her ex any more than necessary.

His Rhaenys knew most of the people she worked with, who were simply her colleagues from the lower years of their studies. They had specific spaces designated for research and their task for the day was simple: digging.

Of course, the upper layers of the earth were removed by special excavators, but at some point they had to work by hand so as not to destroy any artifacts hidden beneath the surface.

There was something liberating and relaxing about the fact that this activity of driving a shovel deep into the ground and digging a big hole in it didn't require him to think too much.

After a few hours, he already understood why his niece had made him put a baseball cap on his head and why they had each brought a couple of big bottles of water for themselves: sweat was running down his back from the heat and from time to time he had to take a break to drink.

To his relief, even though the people in the group were talking to each other, fooling around and laughing, they didn't drag him into any discussions or distract him from his work. Rhaenys was digging too, approaching each person when they expressed the opinion that they might have come across some historical relic.

After only half an hour, one of the girls stumbled upon a coin from the 19th century.

The real excitement he felt was when his shovel hit something that clanked as if it were made of metal.

"Rhaenys?" He called, and though the people around him didn't know who he meant, his niece walked up to him, cocking her head in curiosity, her face all pink with exertion.

"What's wrong?" She asked softly, and he hit the spot he had just dug with his shovel again, intending to make the same sound.

His discovery piqued interest.

He crouched down, letting his girlfriend, more experienced and confident in what she was doing, take the smaller shovel, digging around the object, one of her colleagues took the brush, shaking the dust off its surface.

"It's a German pistol. Second World War. Very good condition." He stated, and his girlfriend nodded.

"Yes, the Germans were in this fortress in the 1940s. Good job, Aemond, secure it and sign it. Give this object a number as I explained to you this morning." She said, patting him on the back, and he nodded.

"Your first find. Feels cool, doesn't it?" Said the boy, whose name he understood was Cregan, but he didn't know what he was supposed to answer him, feeling uncomfortable at the thought that everyone was looking at him.

"Yeah." He muttered, looking down at his knuckles, for some reason losing the confidence he gained at night in clubs when he was about to put a gun to someone's head.

When he wasn't about to hurt or scare someone he was helpless and didn't know how to act.

They had spent the whole day doing manual labour and although his erection had swollen all over feeling her naked body pressed against his under the refreshing shower, he didn't even have the strength to move, let alone fuck her hard.

So he ended up making soft, tender love to her, his hips rocking lazily inside her, sinking again and again into the tightness of her sticky, throbbing cunt.

Her naked back was nestled against his sweaty chest, his face snuggled against the hollow of her neck as his fingers dug deeper into her fleshy folds with her quiver of pleasure, his free hand holding her thigh spread wide, allowing him to reach as deep as possible with the tip of his erection.

"– no – it hurts –" She muttered, and he froze and stopped moving, rising up on his elbow, his breath deep and heavy, his heart pounding fast in his chest.

"– what, baby? –" He whispered, placing a soft, gentle kiss on her cheek, wanting to make amends to her for whatever he had done to her. She turned her face towards him, stroking his bare arm.

"– when you're too deep – it hurts –" She confessed.

"– 'm sorry –" He hummed, their lips joined in a sticky, wet, tender kiss. He ran the tip of his nose over her face, his cock twitching deep inside her while his thumb teased her swollen clit with lazy, circular motions, her body twitching again and again in pleasure.

He swallowed hard as she rose up and slid his erection out of her, thinking with horror that she had had enough of him and intended to sleep separately, she, however, turned to face him. He sighed, surprised, as her fingers gently grasped the base of his manhood, all soaked from her wetness, directing the swollen, pink head of it against her slit.

With a tentative, slow thrust of his hips he opened her on his fat length, sliding into her slick walls with ease, sinking anew into her wonderful warmth that soothed him.

He moaned softly as she threw her arms around his neck, as her bare breasts pressed against his chest, as her puffy, sweet lips joined his in a greedy, deep kiss full of affection and tenderness. He sank his fingers into the soft skin of her back and buttocks, beginning to pound into her anew, feeling her completely differently in this angle.

They began to pant into each other's throats, licking and teasing each other, a wonderful shudder shook his body as her lips traveled lower, to his jaw, to his neck, to his shoulders, kissing and sucking on him, leaving wet, warm marks behind.

"– fuck – ah –" He exhaled, feeling his cock throbbing hard inside her fleshy walls, the wonderful tingling in his lower abdomen and testicles filling his head with utter emptiness, pure desire to fill her with his seed.

Their foreheads pressed against each other and their bodies intertwined in a loving, close embrace as they began to chase their fulfilment, loud, sticky splats building their way to release.

"– u-uncle – 'm close –" She mewled like a child, her sweet, leaking cunt beginning to clench on his cock, sucking it inside her. He kissed her temple, snuggling her into his body, slamming into her with loud grunts of pleasure.

"– me too, baby – my sweet little girl –" He exhaled and threw his head back, feeling a wonderful, overpowering relief, his erection beginning to pulsate deep inside her, filling her with his semen.

She moaned, rising and falling on his quivering erection, reaching her own peak with a innocent, girlish moan of delight, sending him into a state of complete ecstasy. They hugged each other, saying nothing more, not separating their bodies, wanting to remain as they were now, as close as possible.

The presence of her body right beside him, the fact that her sticky pussy was warming his soft manhood, his arms and hands entwined in a tender embrace made him sleep a stony, peaceful sleep, tired and satisfied.

To his relief, Criston had kept him informed of the state of affairs and it appeared that relative calm prevailed apart from a few minor incidents, so his presence on the scene was not necessary for the time being.

He took malicious satisfaction in the moments when his niece would be called by Daemon, wanting to make sure she was okay. She would talk to him on the phone while his hands traveled over her naked body, stroking her thighs, belly and breasts, his lips brushing gently against the skin of her neck, merely teasing her.

She usually tried to pull away from him when his thumb, seemingly by accident, ran over her nipple, when his fingers sank tentatively into her womanhood, leaking all over from her moisture and his spend with which he had filled her moments before.

Although he was a grown man, he felt like he was a child again.

In the days that followed, he felt that he loosened up a bit with the group of people he had to work with – he didn't talk to them and concentrated on his tasks, but it seemed to him that they simply stopped paying attention to him, which suited him. They were not spiteful or unpleasant about it: they apparently recognised that this was his nature and left him alone.

His Rhaenys was a different person at work: she smiled and joked a lot, easily having dozens of conversations with all sorts of people, even those she didn't know, winning their sympathy. He somehow admired how unforced her talkativeness, assertiveness and empathy were, how easily she made difficult decisions when others were panicking.

"– fuck – I think I broke it –" Cregan said, leaning over something that looked from a distance like a vase still half-buried in the ground.

"– call the restorers – get them to secure the cavities so nothing else breaks and they're able to put it back together later –" She said without a trace of annoyance or aggression. The boy nodded in agreement and stepped out of the big, wide hole they were sitting in, doing exactly what she'd told her.

"You're good at this." He stated as they sat alone at breakfast break under one of the trees, looking at the large stone fortress stretching out before their eyes.

Although their group sat elsewhere, she chose to stay with him, as she always did.

He felt an uncomfortable squeeze in his heart at the thought that, as much as he wanted to, he didn't fit in with neither her friends nor the world.

He was a perpetual obstacle to her, a wall between what she deserved and the miserable scraps she suffered in his presence through his vanity.

She looked at him and cocked her head, a wide smile on her face.

She was happy.

"What do you mean?" She asked, in some natural reflex cuddling her face into his, her hand on his shoulder. He kissed the tip of her nose, stroking her skin with his palm, feeling a subconscious surge of desire, as he always did when she showed him tenderness and interest.

"You're made for this job. For being with these people. But you need to sit with me instead." He muttered wearily, looking down at his fingers in shame.

"I don't have to. No one is forcing me to."

"You're afraid that if you leave me, I'll become the way I was. You're paying the price for my satisfaction."

She leaned in, wanting to look at his face, but he closed his eyes, feeling shame and regret, for some reason unable to enjoy it all, to relax, to let go.

"You would want this, wouldn't you? For me to disappoint you. To pack up and go home, to escape what is uncomfortable for you. Loneliness is safe, I know that better than anyone. But if you want to be alone, what are you doing here?" She asked.

He looked at her and shook his head, feeling tears burning under his eyelids.

"I don't know. I feel good and bad at the same time. I'm fulfilling my dream, I have you, but I can't enjoy it all because in the back of my mind I'm wondering if Cole is going to call me at night to tell me all hell has broken loose. It's like what's going on right now is a dream, and I'm aware that I'm going to wake up. As if I have to watch something I know I'll lose one day." He mouthed, bursting out crying, choking on his own tears. He covered his ears with his hands and leaned his head between his knees, panting loudly, feeling like he was just experiencing a panic attack.

"– God, Aemond – calm down – calm down, I'm here – this isn't a dream – my feelings for you – the fact that you're here – it's all real – don't you feel it? –" She asked in a whisper, enclosing him in the warm, safe embrace of her arms, pressing his face between her breasts where he took refuge.

He closed his eyes, concentrating only on her fingers combing through his hair, on her warmth, on her scent, on the softness of her body.

She didn't let go of him for a moment, stroking his head, neck and back, placing a tender kiss on his temple once in a while. Slowly his breathing calmed, the pounding of his heart slowed, and his body relaxed in her soft, caring, loving arms.

She let him settle on her thighs, let him snuggle into her lap: she stroked him like a small child, saying nothing, letting him just be, drawing on her closeness, her understanding, her wisdom and kindness.

He thought that if he could die now, in her embrace, he would be happy.

Her words and closeness gave him comfort and for that afternoon, looking at her from afar, sitting on the sand, he thought he was truly happy.

Truly at peace.

And then he saw five missed calls from Cole and one message from him.

"I'll go with you." She said, watching as he changed into his normal clothes.

"No fucking way." He growled, looking at her with impatience, wanting her to get the idea out of her head.

"I'll be waiting for you in the car. Don't leave me alone." She begged.

"No. I'll be back before dawn. I promise." He said, kissing her forehead quickly and left, feeling that if he looked at her again, he wouldn't be able to drive there.

Some part of him dreaded going back there, as if being in the light for so long would blind him to the point where he wouldn't be able to see anything in the dark.

Late in the evening, he arrived at Heavenly Beach and went inside, asking one of the bodyguards what had happened. The man nodded towards one of the lodges – his brother was spread out in the company of three girls enjoying himself at his best, buying everyone a round of shots.

"He didn't pay for anything, boss. He says you're the one paying for the booze and the whores tonight."

He moved towards him feeling his jaw clench in rage, the loud music around him ringing in his ears, the twinkling lights around him making him feel like he was about to vomit.

Aegon spotted him and stood up from the couch, pointing at him with his hand.

"Here is my brother. To him you owe such a great party tonight, applause for him!" He called out, the drunken part of the club guests echoed him in euphoria, but the rest were silent, looking at them with concern.

"I think my brother drank too much." He said coldly, towering over him after a moment, looking at him with a dispassionate gaze. "And he doesn't know that he's going to pay for what he ordered and the women he brought with him himself."

"And where's your woman? Hm? Our pretty niece. Did you know, guys, that he kissed her when they were kids? He was already fucked up then." Aegon sneered, taking a loud sip of whisky from his glass, embracing one of his women, a pretty, blue-eyed blonde with his arm.

His men looked at each other in dismay, apart from the background music all around them complete silence.

"Get up, take your whores and get out of my club. Now." He said in a voice that didn't bear objecting, but Aegon only laughed and sighed.

"You know what the worst part is? He's still fucking her. My father was lying dead and he was in the next room banging that poor girl. Tell us, did you rape her? You surely did, she would never want you of her own free will. But in what position? Missionary? No, no, I know! In doggy-style, like a hound. You have always been faithful like a dog. Woof, woof!" He scoffed, and something snapped inside him.

His brother froze, looking at him with big eyes as he pointed his gun straight at his forehead, the girls around him squealed in terror and broke out of his embrace, moving as far away from them as they could.

"– wow, wow, wow – calm down, have you completely lost your fucking mind? –" Aegon asked in a trembling voice, raising his hands in a gesture of submission, and for some reason he grinned broadly.

"– I didn't rape her – she wanted it – we did it a few more times after that – she was always good to me, unlike you – we're together now, you know? –" He hummed, cocking his head with an expression of satisfaction on his face, thinking in the back of his mind that this was who he just was, who he wanted to become.

He felt powerful, strong, invincible.

"– what the fuck are you talking about? –" Aegon muttered, shaking his head as if he thought his younger brother had simply gone mad.

He, however, had never felt his mind so sharp and focused before.

"– our grandfather made you his successor to reason with me – before our father died he said he would pass everything on to me and that was his original plan – but after Larys put the rape pill in her drink, I couldn't let him live – I don't expect you to understand that though – loyalty, devotion, affection – look at you – you must have pissed your pants with fear, am I wrong? – stand up, show yourself to everyone –" He sneered, raising his voice defiantly so that everyone could hear him.

There was complete silence all around them.

"– I said stand up –" He growled seeing that his brother was looking at him with big eyes red from tears, his mouth quivering in horror and humiliation.

Yes, he thought.

Feel what I felt.

He, completely naked then, standing up to his waist in water, his face all swollen from tears.

"– it's an unpleasant feeling, hm? – humiliation –" He said, watching as Aegon stood up slowly, the large, dark stain on his light-coloured trousers suggesting he was right.

He grinned at him and thought that such a lesson would be enough for him, lowering his gun, but his brother threw himself at him, climbing onto the table, wanting to get him with his own hands, and in a subconscious, involuntary reflex he fired.

His brother gasped heavily, as if surprised, and grabbed himself by the stomach, falling backwards onto the couch, another dark spot forming where he pressed his hand.

"– you fucking shot me –" He mumbled out, and he shook his head, feeling his whole body freeze, people around him screaming and running away, his and Aegon's bodyguards starting to shoot at each other, causing a general panic.

Cole grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him towards the side exit, saying loudly that they should call an ambulance.

He saw her sweet face, felt the embrace of her warm arms, her moist lips placing tender kisses on his face.

He thought that if Aegon died, she would never forgive him.

He promised her that whatever happened, he wouldn't be a murderer.

"– this son of a bitch has to survive – do you understand? –" He said and turned, running up the stairs, several of his bodyguards moving towards his brother, trying to stop the bleeding.

Criston nodded and pulled out his phone to make a call to the hospital.

By the time he walked him to his car the ambulance was on its way.

"– get out of here – hide somewhere – you shot him low in the stomach – I think he'll make it – I'll let you know when I find out something –"

He nodded and sit inside the car, hearing the gunshots again – Criston fell to the ground and hid under one of the trucks while he started to back up and with a squeal of tyres drove ahead.

Only now, heading ahead through streets full of lamplight did he wonder what he had actually done.

He had shot his brother.

He told him their secret.

Everyone heard it, Daemon would find out, and she would be in danger.

He swallowed hard, running his hand over his face, thinking that he just wanted Aegon to feel what he had felt for so many years, that he wanted to teach him a lesson, show him who was in charge, who was better, smarter, cleverer.

Who was the better son, the better brother, the better lover, the better man.

But for the first time he asked himself, was he really better than him?

He was just as scared, just as helpless, just as small.

He had nearly killed his older brother.

That thought, and the realisation that Aegon really might not have made it, caused him to burst into a loud, hysterical sob, and cover his mouth with his hand, trying to silence the sound that was coming from it.

As he drove ahead all he could feel was fear, fear of her gaze, her disgust, her rejection.

Why would she want to be at the side of someone like him?

When he arrived it was almost morning, dozens of missed calls from her and messages asking if and when he would be back were evidence that she had been up all night.

Before he walked into their room, he stood outside the door for a moment, wondering how he was supposed to explain this to her, what to say so she wouldn't tell him to pack up and get out of her life.

He had ruined everything.

When he opened the door he had the feeling that his whole body was quivering, stiff and tense: her gaze, her eyes and cheeks were red from tears, her eyebrows arched in pain told him that she was convinced that he had left her, that he had deceived her, that he had used her again.

She rose and wanted to throw herself into his arms, but he spoke up faster, not wanting to deceive her.

"I shot Aegon."

She stopped in her half-step, looking at him in disbelief, her expression seeming as if she hadn't understood what he'd said.

"What?"

He drew in a loud breath, feeling that he was a little boy again, a terrified child who had broken a very expensive, valuable vase and had to explain why it had happened.

"He was fucking mocking me. He implied that I raped you. In my own club. In front of my men." He muttered as if it changed anything, realising how pathetic he sounded.

The thought that he had lost everything again, that there was no way she could forgive him made him hide his face in his hands and just weep.

All he wanted was for her to hug him, to tell him that everything was going to be alright, that she knew he had hurt and abused him all his life, that she had witnessed it herself.

That she understood that something had simply snapped inside him.

"Is he...is he dead?"

He swallowed hard, trying to calm himself, his breath heavy and hitched in panic, his heart pounding like mad in his chest.

"I don't know. I shot him in the stomach and he's in hospital. He threw himself at me and scared me and I just fired. He saw I had a fucking gun in my hand!" He exclaimed as if he was ten years old and had just told his mum why his brother was lying unconscious on the floor after their fight.

"So you didn't kill him, did you? You didn't mean to do it. It was an accident. He scared you and you fired, but if he hadn't, you wouldn't have shot him." She said slowly in a trembling, terrified voice, and he lowered his hands, looking at her with big eyes, thinking that some part of him wanted to kill him then.

And then he remembered that after he felt that justice had been done, his hand with the gun lowered.

"– I – I just wanted him to stop laughing – he asked if I acted like a dog when I raped you – and I – God, baby, I told him about us in front of everyone – that we are together –" He mouthed, shaking his head, feeling completely naked, her expression of sadness and disappointment made him just sit on the bed, hide his face in his hands and cry, cry, cry.

"– I didn't mean it – I didn't know what to do – he wanted to humiliate me – me and you by spreading such rumours – I decided it was better to tell the truth than – I don't know – I'm so sorry –" He mumbled, himself not knowing where he was going with this thought, feeling a huge, cold emptiness.

He tensed all over hearing her footsteps, lifting his gaze to her, thinking for some reason that she was going to slap him.

She, however, knelt between his thighs, cupping his cheeks in her hands.

"– it would have come out eventually anyway – Aemond, I need to know what is going on inside your mind – if you –"

She asked, but was interrupted by the sound of his phone. He took it quickly out of his pocket seeing that his mother was calling him and swallowed hard feeling that he couldn't do it.

"– pick up – you have to do it, maybe she knows if Aegon is alive –"

But what if his brother was dead?

If he killed him with his own hands?

"– I can't – I don't want to –"

"– Aemond – prove to me who you are – take responsibility –"

He covered his face with his hand as he answered and put his phone to his ear.

"– is he alive? –" He muttered.

"– thank God yes – Aemond –" Alicent said, but he didn't let her finish, afraid of what she wanted to tell him.

That he had already been disgusting as a child and was a disgusting man now too.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, Mum, it was an accident, I swear – he was drunk and he threw himself at me seeing that I had a gun in my hand and I just –"

"– I know – Aegon told me everything – he admitted he provoked you – but I don't understand how you could have let this happen – you are brothers – you almost killed each other for what? – for a few bags of drugs, thick files of money? –" She asked, and he closed his eyes, warm tears one after another flowing down his cheeks.

"– he said I raped her –"

Alicent was silent for a moment.

"– where are you now? – come to the hospital – apologise to each other, explain everything, start all over again –" His mother pleaded, but he wasn't sure if there was anything left that they could fix.

"– I don't know if I want to see him ever again, Mum – I want to rest – let him know I hope he recovers quickly and that I'm sorry –" He muttered and hung up, feeling he had nothing more to say to her.

His niece looked at him in pain, her hands on his thighs as she knelt between his legs.

If Alys had been sitting in her place, all he would have thought about was putting his cock down her throat, but in her case, there was something in her expression that made him crave something completely different, but equally intense.

"– please, embrace me –" He mumbled out, before hot tears again ran down his face one by one, his sobs so pitiful that she stood up quickly, frightened, and let their silhouettes fall together on the bed.

It wasn't until her arms hugged him into her chest, when his hands closed on her back, that he felt his whole body trembling.

"– close your eyes – breathe –" She whispered, pressing her cheek to the top of his head, her fingers combing lazily through his short hair.

He did as she said and tried to focus only on the air he was letting in and out of his mouth, all around them the quiet singing of birds amid the rising sun.

"– don't leave me –" He muttered, snuggling tighter into her warm, familiar body, her wonderful scent filling his entire lungs.

He heard her sigh softly, her hand stroked his back reassuringly.

"– I know how much you are suffering – I am here – you are safe now –" She said, and he felt his heart stop for a moment.

I know how much you are suffering.

I am here.

You are safe now.

He had longed to hear this from his mother, his father, his brother, from her for so many years that when it finally happened his body just froze.

"– I love you –" He whispered, however differently than usual, feeling like he was suffocating. "– God, I love you so much –"

His niece texted her friend that she and him had poisoned themselves with something and that they would come to work later, wanting him to take at least a little nap, knowing that he would fall into despair if she left him alone even for a moment.

He fell asleep only when he unbuttoned her shirt and cuddled his face between her bare, plump breasts, the warmth and softness of her naked body, her long fingers running over his head soothed him.

Despite what he feared, she understood him.

It's always been this way.

When she woke him, telling him she had to go, he begged her to just let him stay as he was, her skin warm and drenched with her scent, his body pressed against hers in a natural, vulnerable embrace.

"– I have to – I should have been there hours ago – but you stay, get some sleep –" She whispered, stroking his head. His eyebrows arched in pain as he shook his head at her words, roaming his hands over her body in a gesture of desperation, trying to stop her.

"– no – no –"

"– Aemond – please –" She said in pain, pressing him against her again hearing his heavy, loud breath, tears squeezing into his eyes.

She sighed.

"– come with me then –"

And he did, because he didn't want to be alone.

When they went outside for the first time she took his hand in hers, exactly like when they were little children playing on the beach. He tried to control himself, but the squeeze in his throat was proof that he wanted to cry again.

He was so exhausted.

"– don't work today – sit under the tree – I'll be next to you –" She said when they got there, but he shook his head and squeezed her fingers tighter between his own.

She looked at him with a gaze in which he saw everything – worry, affection, concern, sadness, understanding, desire. He felt his heart grow hot as his free hand rose to her face, running gently over her jawline, and she nuzzled her cheek into it, closing her eyes.

He leaned in and kissed her as if it was the most natural thing he'd ever done – her lips welcomed him with gentleness and tenderness, parting before his tongue, letting him slide it lazily inside. Her fingers stroked his neck as they clung to each other, sunk only in that sweet, sticky pleasure, humming contentedly, not caring if anyone saw it.

And then he heard it.

The screech of tyres.

By the time he heard her squeal and turned to see what was happening Daemon was already standing in front of him, his fist hit him in the face so hard that he fell to the ground, losing his hearing for a moment.

"– STOP IT –" He heard her scream as her step-father turned him onto his back, punching him with his fist again, again and again, warm liquid trickled from his nose, but he did not resist.

"– I promised you this –" He hissed with rage. "– I promised you that if you didn't leave her alone, I would kill you with my own hands –"

"– DAD, STOP – STOP, STOP, STOP –" She whimpered, trying to pull him away, several people interrupted their work, wanting to see what was happening, looking at this scene in disbelief.

Finally, professor Addams and Robb came out of the tent, hearing loud screams outside.

"– what is the meaning of this? – stop immediately, that's my student! –" The professor shouted. Daemon laughed and stood up from his knees, pointing his finger at her.

"– and that's my daughter and I'm taking her home –"

"– no –"

Daemon looked at her in a way that made her tremble with fear, his jaw clenched as tightly as if it was about to burst.

"– with you I will speak later –" He growled.

"– I won't go with you –"

Daemon wanted to grab her arm, and in a natural reaction he wanted to get up and protect her, however he was preceded by Robb, standing between her and her father.

"– she said no – she's an adult – should I call the police? – he can sue you for assault, you know that? –" He asked, a long, heavy silence fell around them.

He stood up, looking at him, then at her, Daemon's gaze fixed on her face.

"– if you don't come back with me, I can no longer protect you – you will break your mother's heart –" He said coldly, his words intended only for her.

He looked at her in horror, feeling his heart pounding like mad.

Her gaze when her eyes finally turned towards him was full of fear that because of him she would lose her future, her family, her peace of mind and everything she had before he stormed into her life again.

"– you promised me –" He muttered in a trembling voice, looking only at her, the only person who could give him what he desired.

She had promised him that if he tried, if he came here, if he changed, they would spend two weeks together.

"– I did –" She whispered and he felt his heart stop, convinced that this was it.

Their end.

"– let's get back to work –" She said and turned as if nothing had happened, heading towards one of the tents, startling him and everyone around him.

"– come here, I said! –" Growled Daemon, wanting to lunge at her and take her home by force, but Robb blocked his way again.

"– enough – one more step and I'll really call the police –" He threatened, her step-father's gaze shifting to his face after a moment.

He turned away, angry and pale, his hands clenched into fists as he got into his car and drove off with a loud screech.

Feeling his heart pounding like mad and not wanting to be left alone with Robb, he moved after her, adrenaline pulsing hard through his veins.

She had sacrificed herself for him.

Her family, her home.

Just for him.

When he stepped inside he wanted to embrace her, but she shook her head.

"Sit down. I'll get you some ice. Your cheek is all swollen." She said calmly, taking a few cubes out of the fridge and it was only then that he saw how much her hands were trembling.

"– baby – come here –" He whispered, gently placing his hand on the back of her head, and although she resisted for a moment, she finally allowed him to put his arms around her and cuddle her into him.

Her body was shaking.

"– I know, baby – it was very scary – I'm here –" He hummed tenderly, stroking her hair and back, his face pressed against the hollow of her neck.

"– I don't think I have anywhere to go back to –" She mumbled out with difficulty, heartbroken, and burst out into a quiet, exasperated cry.

He swallowed hard, hugging her tighter to him, coming up with an idea he knew their family would definitely not like.

"– you will live with me –"

[melloollem]

Family Conflicts|| Bruce Wayne × Batmom Fem!reader × (Platonic)Jason Todd

Summary: Bruce mulls over the guilt he feels after a fight with Jason, you're the one who advises him and tries to sort things out.

Warnings: Comfort (with anguish), Platonic relationship with Jason, Family conflicts.

(DC masterlist)

You were drying your hair after getting out of the shower, and walked into the room you shared. Bruce was sitting on the right side of the bed staring at the large pane of glass that overlooked the house's garden, too immersed in his own thoughts to recognize your presence.

You were aware that the recent argument was still plaguing his mind. You let the silence linger in the room for a while longer while you put on your clothes, waiting for him to take the initiative to talk to you. When you had finished, you leaned against one of the walls of the room, watching Bruce's back. The nights in Gotham were brutal, and the scars on his back couldn't deny it.

After a few minutes, a click escapes your mouth as you realize that he would choose to ignore your presence "Aren't you going to say anything?" Your voice broke through the man's numb state, but the silence remained, drawing a weary sigh from you. You wished the constant conflicts and obligations didn't consume Bruce's mind as much as they do, but you knew that was too much to ask of him, a man entirely dedicated to everything he did.

"Everything will be fine, he just needs some time." Bruce's guilt was consuming him, Jason was no longer the unstoppable killer whose goal was to kill Batman, but the relationship between the family was still complicated, everything was still too sensitive, like an inflamed wound.

"He doesn't hate you, he just needs some time," you repeated the assurance, trying to get into your husband's mind. "He was clear about how he felt," Bruce said to you for the first time that night, still motionless.

"So that's all I had to say to get you to say something" Your sarcasm lacked any real anger at Bruce's behavior, already used to dealing with the complicated man he was. "He'll never forgive me" That wasn't half of what he wanted to say, but it was all he had the courage to admit. Bruce was never the kind of person to speak his mind openly, you had to read him, understand him beyond his words and you were very good at doing that.

"You don't believe that. He's disappointed, but you can fix it." You knew that it would be much harder for Bruce and Jason to work things out, much harder than it was for you and Jason, not because Jason blamed you less for what happened, but because he and Bruce were too similar for their own good, Jason would never say what he felt out loud and neither would Bruce and they always hurt each other because between half-words Jason saw the worst in Bruce and Bruce saw a lot of his faults in Jason.

"What about you? Are you disappointed in me?" The blue-eyed man knew that he had acted improperly, despite Jason's behavior, Bruce knew that this was not the ideal occasion. You took too long to convince your son to return to the mansion and when he finally did, Bruce used the moment to reprimand him.

"I'm not sure, I just..." you bit your lips apprehensively "I wish you hadn't done that" you too were trying to make things right. It was distressing to see Bruce taking all the blame on himself and taking away the responsibility you had with Jason. "I need you to trust me, Bruce. We're in this together." There was no point in fighting with the man, he knew where he had gone wrong in this situation.

You moved across the room to stand in front of Bruce, you held his chin to make him look at you, guilt staining his blue eyes. He didn't want to ruin the progress you were making with your son, but it seemed that was all he had done since Jason's return. He knew the boy blamed you both equally, but when he made himself willing to move on, you managed to warm Jason's heart faster than Bruce could ever have wished. While Bruce mulled over the guilt of Jason's death, you sought the boy's forgiveness.

"I'm sorry" Bruce didn't know exactly what he was apologizing for, there were many of his actions that needed forgiveness, but you accepted it openly, knowing the sincerity of the words. "Everything will be fine" Bruce leaned his head on your stomach as he heard your words, that statement was all he could ever want from you. "I love you" he breathed as he closed his eyes, his words sounded like an oath, an intimate pact between you and an affirmation of the trust he had in your words "We can sort things out with Jason, okay? Both of us".

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

I was putting off posting this because I really like the story and I was afraid of how it would play out, but the fact is that I was afraid people wouldn't understand it. I don't think Bruce is a bad father, but he's certainly a complicated person. I know that's a bad summary and a bad name. Thank you to anyone who read this story. This is a repost.

[villainousauthor]

heyyyy love ur writing (SO IMMERSIVE IDK)

can u do a snippet where the villain likes to lie a lot (but in a joking way. Maybe sometimes not. UP TO YOU) x a hero who can tell when the villain is lying

"Okay. I'm sick of this. How can you tell?" Villain demands, stopping mid fight. They hold Hero in place, not giving them an inch of leeway.

Hero's smug smile is so infuriating, they can feel their heart beating faster at the sight.

"What ever do you mean, enemy o' mine?" Hero spoke in a sing-song voice, still grinning. They don't fight Villain's hold, perfectly content at annoying them currently.

"How can you tell when I lie. You always seem to know, you're always calling my bluffs." They say, trying to keep their stern tone. "I know your power isn't lie detection. It's telekinesis... unless you have multiple powers?" Villain muses, like they haven't considered this possibility yet.

Hero laughs lightly. "I'm sorry, am I supposed to believe you when you threaten to blow up a bridge or kidnap the mayor?"

"Sometimes I'm being serious. You always seem to know when I'm telling the truth or not." Villain responds in a huff. Their grip on Hero tightens ever so slightly, but they don't seem to mind. "Tell me how."

"That's some pretty useful information you're demanding. Why should I tell you? It's nice being able to call you out on your lies." Their voice is lighthearted, but Villain knows Hero won't give them what they want without something in exchange.

Groaning, Villain bites. "Alright, alright. I'll leave the city and all civilians thereof alone for... two days. 48 hours of me not kidnapping, killing, maiming, or destroying."

Hero hums as they consider this offer. "Make it a week." They insist after a minute of deliberation.

"Fine," Villain snaps, not particularly happy but relenting, "I'll be on my best behavior for a whole week. Now tell me."

Villain's grip on Hero eases up as they sit up, steadying themselves. "Your nose scrunches up when you lie. You also get this adorable crease between your brows." Hero speaks, a thumb going to brush up against their forehead softly. Villain doesn't move away but instead frowns in response.

"That's it?" They ask, disbelieving they have such obvious tells.

"Also you clench your hands. Like you can't keep your fingers still." Hero adds, voice still airy and teasing. "If it makes you feel better, I don't think anyone else has figured this out."

Villain backs away now, putting some distance between the both of them, as they feel the beginnings of heat rising to their face at this.

"God, I hate you so much." They say through gritted teeth.

Not returning their irritated or embarrassment tone, Hero smiles, stepping back into their personal space yet again. They lean in close, grabbing them by the chin.

"Your nose is all scrunched up again, liar."

[anthurak]

You know that "Mundane super power" aspect you mentioned?

Another thing I like about crossing over RWBY characters with other settings is how easily their nature as basically coming from an apocalyptic hell-world can bleed through.

This is hard to articulate, but like.

The casual way in which towns disappear, that ruins dot the landscape, that people like Ruby & Yang grew up immersed in a culture that trended towards violence and early graves.

There's a nifty Naruto/Stargate crossover, (Its complicated) where Himawari kind of subtly disturbs the Stargate crew cos she knows exactly how best to behave in a dangerous situation, doesn't really seem bothered when enemies die and has been taught stuff like "Reading the battlefield."

I think RWBY characters would be similarly off-putting in their own way unless they were incredibly sheltered like Jaune or rich enough to have not ever encountered a Grimm until the the Beacon Test like Weiss. & even then, the lived experience, training and cultural awareness means they'd likely still come off as a little off-putting.

This also plays into how Ruby and Yang are seemingly quite... Not comfortable, but functional about the prospect of causing death or grievous bodily harm in a way most Shounen/action protags aren't.

Ruby, as far as she knew, sent Neo hurtling to her death in V3 and was at most momentarily shocked when Roman died & forgot all about it. Yang processed killing Adam in a very straightforward manner, she's not cavalier about it, but she'd made peace with it being a them or us situation right quick.

There's plenty of other examples but I think we've discussed it before.

But yeah, I just think its fun, even in series that can have similar degrees of destruction or death, their relative youth and manner with it would likely still make many locals be like (oO) & I think that's fun.

Oh yeah, this has always been a great idea for RWBY crossovers.

And one of my favorite/most interesting parts about is, as you touched on, how subtle Team RWBY’s whole vibe is and how it can potentially sneak up on others.

Like Team RWBY and really most of the show’s characters generally DON’T give off any real obvious ‘I come from a fucked-up deathworld’ vibes like being real dark, broody or even just looking anything the part. For anyone from a much more mundane setting/background, Ruby, Weiss, Blake and Yang generally come off as a friendly, likeable, good natured bunch without really anything all that offputting.

For about… eighty to ninety percent of the time.

But then you’ve got those 10-20% moments where the dark, serious ‘fantasy war-veteran’ sides of Team RWBY slip out. Like they might not even have been trying to hide it, it just comes out when things get serious.

Like maybe there is some big disaster or some other terrible event perhaps caused by the villains that leaves the more ‘normal’ characters/heroes frozen in shock and horror, meanwhile RWBY are just immediately jumping into the fray to fight or help however they can. With perhaps one or more doing the whole ‘slap the shock’ out of the other characters with a ‘We got work to do!’. And it’s just kind of… unsettling how Team RWBY takes these events in stride.

Or to build off your point on Ruby and Yang, as well as Blake and Weiss, being ‘functionally alright’ with hurting/killing people*, there’s a LOT of juicy potential there for when Team RWBY goes up against more mundane villains.

Like just picture a situation where a villain is threatening innocents in a classic ‘you’ll have to KILL ME to stop me!’ standoff that has the heroes freezing up… only for Ruby to almost immediately just shoot said villain.

She certainly looks like she didn’t enjoy or even want to do it, but both how quickly she did it and how easily she seems to role with it afterwards are just REALLY unsettling.

And then there’s what I’d call the FLIPSIDE to all this in how Team RWBY deals with being in a world that might NOT actually be filled with monsters who are an ever-present existential threat to humanity.

Like even for someone who grew up more sheltered like Weiss that is almost certainly going to be a MASSIVE culture-shock. Not to mention that the only people with a frame of reference that Team RWBY would be able to talk to about this would likely be each other.

Even in settings that might have some kind of monsters threatening humanity such as most magical girl shows, the appearance and threat that these monsters pose are almost always a very RECENT occurrence that most people might not even know about. Generally in these settings, the ‘normal, mundane world’ IS the norm, with the dangerous and supernatural merely popping up on and off in isolated places.

It could really create this interesting contrast where Team RWBY finds the mundane world that their new friends consider ‘normal’ to be just a bit uncanny and unsettling. And even finding it a bit comforting when monsters or some other supernatural threat to fight shows up because that feels more NORMAL to them.

This is actually something I tried/am still trying to explore in my Kingdom Hearts crossover fic. Like Ruby musing on how to explain her whole huntress background to Sora, Kairi and Riku when to them, monsters are things that have existed in storybooks, while for Ruby monsters have always been REAL. Or Ruby even noting a comforting ‘return to normal’ when she starts fighting the Heartless.

I’ve even got ideas for Ruby, as well as Weiss, Blake and Yang further on, idly musing on whether the Grimm or Heartless are the worse to fight, with some of their new friends being just a BIT weirded out.

And that’s not even getting into the potential of Team RWBY interacting with various Disney movie settings. Like I’ll admit that I kinda REALLY want to have Ruby boom-headshot at least one Disney villain XD

*I will say, I’ve had a theory for a while that Ruby, even more so than her teammates, has particular ideological reasons to generally avoid killing people, specifically when we consider how Ruby specifically DOESN’T use her ‘walking grimm-blender’ style of fighting against human opponents. Personally I imagine Ruby seeing it as ‘I hunt MONSTERS, not people.’ That being said, I don’t see Ruby as having some strict ‘no-killing’ ‘one rule’, but rather that she views taking a life as a last resort.

[viviswtings]

Alcohol wet.

So I've just been drawing Neteyam like the simp I am, and it's going great. He's inspiring me so much I got to write a whole thing for him.

Words: 2627.

Warnings: suggestive fluff? Is that a thing? Also not proof-read. Just finished and posted. English isn't my first language and there are words I'm iffy about all over. Tell me if something doesn't make sense.

The characters are aged up. Like, in their twenties sort of aged up. Don't come after me. Or do. Idk.

“Shit, you’re beautiful “

He exhaled against her face, his breath smelling of the sweet, fruity liquor he had been sipping all night.

Up until this point he had been slurring his words, letting them fall off his purple stained lips, all buttery and soft- his speech, that is- without seemingly any care for if she could understand them or not.

But this. This he said clearly. Like a cloudless day, after a particularly dark eclipse. She understood every single word, and she was exhilarated when she did.

How sweet his voice came out, how his plushy, swollen lips had caressed every word like he knew exactly what place in her heart they were meant to fit into. Taking that little space she had once made for him and making it bigger and bigger, so all her feelings may fit within her chest.

He was staring at her from up close, his nose almost touching hers. Those big, golden eyes that let her see her own reflection in the dilated pupil. She hoped he meant it, that, in his eyes, she truly was beautiful.

But alcohol did its thing as the warrior pursed hisr lips and got closer. She turned her head as quickly as she realized, for she had reacted too slowly, having been immersed in his gaze and almost gotten lost in it.

The peck on her cheek was wet, and she couldn’t help but laugh at the distressed sound off Neteyam’s chest once he figured he had failed his attempt. Leaning back to look at him, it was impossible not to smile.

His face was turned towards the ground, while his stare remained on her, brow furrowed and lips pouted. His ears, now flushing almost pink, laid tense flat against his braided hair, all the muscles in his body were tense as his tail flicked from side to side behind him. It was comical. The great, mighty warrior Neteyam te Suli was butthurt. Because she had denied him a kiss.

Maybe it was right at this very moment that a part of her mind, in the furthest back off it, has come to understand she had some power over him. But perhaps she didn’t, and it was all the liquor’s fault, for it had made her delusional.

Seconds in silence had passed, which, given the previous circumstances, was unusual. The young warrior had started bragging about all his feats as soon as the alcohol had settled in. Talking nonsense about how his father barely had to teach him anything, how he was a natural, fishing when he was still using a children’s bow, being the youngest hunter to make his first kill and finishing his ikniyama at the ripe age of just thirteen years old. He almost made her ears fall off, but she did have a special soft spot for him and his slurred, rhythmic and almost-purr like nonsense. So, she had listened attentively all the same.

“Do you not want me?” Was the first thing that left his lips after his failed strategy. She did not expect the look of doubt carved into his features. Like his worst nightmare had become true, like he was… afraid.

Her heart skipped various beats that made her throat close, so no words could come out. She couldn’t flat out reject him just because he was drunk, but saying she did-and oh, she did want him- would risk him not remembering the next morning. Even worse, he could regret it, stop talking to her altogether and leave her with the hope of finally fulfilling her one wish.

It could also escalate and she was not about to take advantage of a drunken man twice her size.

“Nete” Her voice came out as an exhale, like she had been holding her breath all along. “You… ask me tomorrow” Was her final answer, hushed, but with a bit more confidence. If he didn’t ask, she could just presume he didn’t remember and not risk her own heart being shattered.

His ears twitched, his tail stopped, and he got closer again, to which she retreated, trying to avert his eyes. What would happen if she even dared to look back at him? It scared her, so she didn’t.

Then the rough skin of his fingertips came in contact with her forearms, making the hairs on the back of her head rise up and her body tense even more.

“I will” He pressed another kiss to her cheek, a little bit further away from the corner of her mouth, much softer and velvety and leaving no trace of wetness. At least, not on her cheek.

“Alright” She muttered, barely above a whisper, much too afraid of the people around them finding out the oloe’ytakan talking in such an intimate way with her. Both of his hands on her, caressing the skin of her knuckles with his thumb while he kept hold of her forearm, as if to keep her close, to not let her distance herself too much.

He had been resting his chin on her shoulder, face almost cradled in the hollow of her neck, when he was rudely interrupted by a deep, guttural grunt he knew all too well. It would’ve had him standing straight and knocking the air off him in any other situation. But Neteyam was way too comfortable, skin all warm, hands busy and mind fuzzy with the sweetest smell.

Then he felt a hand around his neck, the woman almost under him getting impossibly straight and tense when she pulled her arms away from him. Breath tickled his ear, making him uncomfortable. “Up, boy. Don’t make me repeat myself”.

So he did. All his body screamed against it, but Neteyam got up, not looking down, unable to see the flustered girl he had left on the ground, fidgeting with her tail and head low in shame. He would’ve sobered up in a second if he had. Or so he’d most likely want to believe.

But the older man did see her. As a matter of fact, he always saw her, he did see all of the members of the clan, old or young, gatherer or warrior, it was his duty. He took pride in it. He loved his people.

But that girl, ever since she arrived, she had his eldest running around like a headless chicken. He wasn’t blind, nor a fool, the kid was sweet and very pretty indeed. That, and he knew better than to meddle with young passions, given his own record. His son had crossed a line, though. As he himself had witnessed his son make a fool of himself all night.

“C’mere, sweetheart” He offered his hand to the girl, smiling her way when she looked up at him. “How about we walk you home and I’ll take care of this one for the night”.

She smiled back, taking the five-fingered hand with her own, to which Jake pulled her up, ready in case he had to help her with her balance. But she did just fine, maybe a bit wobbly on her feet, but not a major inconvenience.

The walk to her hut was almost silent, with Neteyam’s head hanging low, too immersed in his own thoughts to even mind his step. If he didn’t know the paths of High Camp like the back of his hand, he might have found it really difficult to find his footing.

Jake only ever broke the silence with politeness, asking how they were doing- to which his son only grumbled-, and making small talk with the girl. He knew her just enough to know what to ask and keep the light smile with jokes as long as the small walk lasted. If he could make his girls laugh, this one shouldn’t have been too much different. Thankfully, he was right.

Once they got to their destination, he stepped back, leaving way for his son so he may have his privacy.

Neteyam knew he should thank his father for the chance, but forgot all about it once he had to put two words together.

“I will ask” He repeated, lowering his eyes to meet her own. He had thought about what he should say all the way there, yet he found himself dumbfounded, incapable of remembering a single thing.

“Alright” She answered back, just as she did before, hands clasping in front of her, knuckles a yellowish shade of green as she gripped onto her own fingers, her nails drawing recent shapes on her palm.

“You will accept” He sounded far more confident than his beating heart would’ve ever let her know. But this surge of confidence lasted long enough for him to hold her hands in his, so she wouldn’t hurt herself anymore. “Then I’ll have you, as you have me”.

She was choking on thin air. The way he was staring her down, brow stern and lips sealed tightly into a line, while making those statements as if he already knew. As if he was laying his head against her chest and hearing her breath catch and her heart beating furiously against her ribs. Like it was the only possible, reasonable outcome.

She had him? Never in her life had she dared to bluff such nonsense. While every young woman almost paraded around him: the nicest singers, the prettiest dancers, the most skilled healers… Every single woman with the least bit of status within High Camp took the slightest chance to be near him. She simply existed, not particularly away from him, but afraid to get so close it would end up hurting her.

Why wouldn’t they? She may laugh at her “mighty warrior” comments, but she knew they were true. He was mighty, and as tall as he was slim, agile and strong. His hair was thick and his hands looked almost heavenly when he put it up for hunting parties, his long neck and the line of his shoulders in display while the muscles in his back flexed, almost knocking the air out of her lungs.

Just as he did now. Luminous freckles making a soft path around his features, down his nose and over his cupid’s bow. He felt so soft pressed to her skin it made her tail move behind her nervously and her loins burn.

“Can I kiss you?”

He had gotten closer to her face once against, big eyes open in question, as he now held her by her arms, pulling her just a tad bit closer as he waited for an answer. If his father had heard him, he didn’t show. He cut her short before she could attempt to answer. “Not your lips”. The remark caught her off guard, but she didn’t know how to mind while he kept his beautiful, gleaming irises on her, like an expecting child asking to go play.

So, she nodded, in fear her words would fail her. Pushing far the thought of the man’s father being mere feet away. How could she deny him? Was she even supposed to? She did want him to kiss her, even though it felt wrong, knowing he was under the effects of the drink he had been having. A kiss it’s just a kiss, isn’t it? It only has the meaning you want to grant it.

All her facade fell precariously as Neteyam’s hands caressed her arms, heavy and warm, up to her shoulders, making her shiver as they made their home on her neck and held her jaw with his thumbs. Keeping her right where he wanted.

He kissed her left cheek, slowly, without making a noise, and she felt his eyelashes against her burning skin. When he went to the other cheek, she saw his eyes closing softly, as he pulled her closer by her neck. She let herself go, closing her own while his lips kissed her. As he looked at her again, she found her own hands clasping around his arms and a smile on his face. He kissed the bridge of her nose, letting out an amused huff.

His fingers made way into her hair, massaging her scalp, when she felt them lightly touch the base of her queue. Her whole body arched involuntarily into his, making her eyes close with her lips parted as he kissed her one last time in the middle of her forehead.

She looked delectable and Neteyam felt famished. Like a starved man, just torturing himself with the meal he could not have, as it wasn’t his for the taking.

He hadn’t meant to hold her like that, but the hazy look on her face had him in a chokehold and he couldn’t help himself. By the time he felt her queue against his fingers he knew he was utterly fucked. The way she molded against him, throwing her head back while she held onto him like a lifeline, her tail caressing his thigh absent-mindedly, just letting herself go in his arms like that. How was he to keep himself away from her, his father here or not. It was only her word holding him back from devouring her whole, just as she was right now.

He knew better than to approach a woman when she had drunk, but he also knew better than to drink himself stupid and there he was. If it wasn’t because he was holding onto her as much as she was onto him, he’d probably be face first on the dirt.

“Neteyam.” What a damn beautiful sound she had just made. He opened his eyes, pulling himself with all his might so he could look at her. “You should head home”. Home? Where was that place again? He’d rather not remember the way back and stay the night. But she wouldn’t have him, not then. “Your father is waiting”.

“Damn him.”  He thought out loud. “He can wait”.

She let out the giddiest of laughs and his heart could explode for all he cared.

“We can talk tomorrow”. He already knew. But right in that moment he felt nauseous at the thought of parting. Might as well hold onto her like a child so she’d coo him to sleep and calm all his worries.

“We will.” He remarked, kissing her forehead again.

“I know”. She ushered. “So go and sleep, so tomorrow may come sooner.”

Neteyam looked at her, like he had done so many times. At her pleasing features and her dimpled smile that reached her eyes. The Great Mother had made her all for him, he had no doubt. She couldn’t have made the most precious creature just to rip it away from him. She’d accept him, take him for herself and he’d be the happiest man.

But, of course, he couldn’t drag the whole affair forever. His father was, indeed, waiting for him and his patience was running thin. “Kid, c’mon. You need a nap.”

So, he hugged her, tightly, so close to him she would feel his heart against hers. He needed a home for it inside her, he reasoned, that’s why it yearned for her so much.

When he let go, she felt shaky. Her pupils inspected his face, but she let go rather easily. Her parted mouth was screaming for him, but he couldn’t drag the affair any longer, so he let her go. His hands fell on his sides in fists and he turned around, with a willpower only years under his father’s stern stare could accomplish.

He felt the man’s hand on his back, cold and somehow soothing against the burning skin of his shoulders. Like a kid, he let his father’s presence reassure him, he’d be fine. Even if it meant another night tossing and turning thinking of her, and now the very real prospect of her skin against his and her lips on his, her legs around his waist…

“Let’s get you home, kid”.

He definitely had to get home.

[nyctoaerah]

𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

“𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐔𝐒”

╰┈➤𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒: You found yourself stripped of your immortality, a punishment for daring to flout the edicts laid down by your father. Your transgressions? Two-fold. First, the grave sin of disobedience, and Secondly, the cardinal offense of falling irrevocably in love with your Lady in waiting. In your father’s eyes, the sanctity of your divinity was tarnished by a same-gender relationship, a concept that he vehemently repudiated as aberrant and abhorrent. Such unforgivable love, he pontificated, dulled your goddess-like essence. Thus he used his powers and casted you adrift into a parallel universe suffused with curses and sorcerers whose love aren't really the healthy type of love, a punishment to show you that ‘Love’ isn’t all about sunshine and rainbows.

╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Gore, Slow Burn Yandere, Love Percentage Au.

╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Jjk x Fem! Isekai’d! Goddess Reader.

╰┈➤𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Shoko Ieri, Yuki Tsukumo, Kento Nanami, Utahime Iori, Choso, Toji Fushiguro, Sukuna Ryomen.

╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: Hearts and Reblogs are greatly appreciated<3. Also posted in Quotev and Wattpad.

╰┈➤𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6,040 words.

╰┈➤𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

╰┈➤𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 & 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

MYRIAD OF LIGHTS OF multiple colors danced in your eyes as if on orchestra, it was intense, so intense that it seemed like they could blind you.  The overwhelming brightness left you feeling lightheaded and disoriented, while waves of excruciating pain reverberated throughout your entire body. The vertigo you experienced was excruciating and it felt like as if you were going to faint.

It felt as if an immense weight was being forcibly pressed upon you, causing your bones to crack and shatter. The splintered fragments traveled through your veins, intensifying the pain you were already enduring.

In an effort to cope with the pain, your teeth gnawed at your lower lip while your trembling intensified, unable to quell the torment in any way.    

To make matters worse, your regeneration abilities seemed to be failing you in this dire situation, leaving you defenseless against the onslaught of pain.

But Suddenly, as if transported to a parallel dimension, you found yourself immersed in something akin to a vast galaxy. The immense pressure in your lungs threatened to rupture them, and indeed, they gave way—They ruptured, hindering your ability to draw breath.

Although you are a goddses, you were somewhat comparable to a human in certain aspects. Your bodily functions mirrored those of humans, complete with human organs, and other human stuff—Like a demigod, yet you couldn't truly be classified as a demigod. This was due to the fact that demigods, while weaker, lacked the divine powers you possessed. They only had semi-immortality, whereby old age posed no threat, yet this alone was a dreadful fate, as it essentially condemned them to a lifetime of servitude.

Moreover, You are the biological child of Aionarch and Xeranthi, and Aionarch has a strong aversion towards demigods, thus, meaning that If you were a demigod, it is highly likely that aionarch would kill you without any second thought. But funny enough, even though you're not a demigod, he attempted to kill you, which doesn't surprise you at all.

However, it still confuses you why he hadn't killed you yet, though, one possible explanation for this is that aionarch intentionally chose to prolong your suffering, as he derives pleasure from witnessing others in pain, as he is undoubtedly a sadistic motherfucker.

Gradually, you began to feel your internal organs and bones slowly regenerating, although it was a sluggish process compared to before. Previously, you can just get any part of your body get cut off and it will heal instantaneously, as if the act of severing had never occurred. But this time, the regeneration process was markedly longer. Perhaps it lasted around three minutes, and you wondered, did Aionarch tampered your ability to regenerate?

Probably.

Then Suddenly, a realization struck you like a bolt of lightning, causing your mind to shift gears. It was as if a light bulb went off in your head, triggering a series of intense emotions. Your eyes, filled with a mix of fear, anger, and apprehension, snapped wide open, while your heart sank and a shiver tingled down your spine.

Ataraxia.

You were all too aware of the sadistic nature of Aionarch, who took great pleasure in inflicting pain. It dawned on you that he would likely target Ataraxia, , simply because she was your lover and he harbored a deep-seated hatred for anything that deviated from his narrow view of sexuality.

You knew he would not hesitate to subject her to unimaginable torture. However, a slight glimmer of hope emerged as you contemplated Ataraxia's abilities. Being capable of transforming herself into solid ice or hiding discreetly, she might have a chance to evade his clutches. 

Yet, doubts crept in. The unsettling realization dawned on you that Ataraxia might not be aware of the grave situation that you and now her, were entangled in. Was she cognizant of the rebellion you had sparked against Aionarch? Did she even know that your life force was slowly dwindling away? The thought gnawed at you, questioning whether she truly comprehended the excruciating pain you were enduring.

Did she understand that your internal organs were rupturing and your bones were fracturing, even though there were no visible wounds on your battered body?

Did she know how much pain you're experiencing right now because of her?

Ataraxia was definitely a personified peril, a reality you had to confront head-on. You swallowed thickly, feeling your chest tighten at the thought of ataraxia dying by the hands of aionarch playing through your mind like an unwanted nightmare.

Please, be safe, ‘raxia. You sniffled, your teeth gritting together.

You serious vowed to take Aionarch's life if he dared lay a finger on Ataraxia. The thought of your beloved perishing was simply unbearable, leaving you with the resolve that you would rather embrace death yourself than allow her to meet such a fate.

The desire to obliterate aionarch, to snap his neck in two and subject him to brutal torture if he ever dared lay even a single filthy finger of his on your ataraxia, consumed your thoughts, but that would be only on your daydream, as he possessed a superior strength compared to your own, for he was the originator of all existence, while you were only his insignificant and useless daughter that struggled to even  cook a simple soup without burning it, because peculiarly enough, you can set even the water ablaze without any logical explanation.

And all of a sudden, a vibrant streak of skyblue emerged right in front of your eyes. The intense force that had previously immobilized you vanished instantaneously, leaving you free-falling from the heavens.

Unexpectedly and with great velocity, a bird collided directly with your forehead, causing you to emit a sharp hiss and wildly thrash your arms in the air, desperately trying to swat it away in irritation and your pyrokinesis ended up working and it burnt the poor bird down.

And when you finally fell down to the solid ground below, the sheer force generated by your landing left an indelible mark on the land, forming an enormous crater. The impact was so powerful that it caused the very Earth itself to shake uncontrollably, sending shockwaves rippling throughout its surface like a magnitude-intensive earthquake.

Moreover, the intensity of your landing was accompanied by a resounding and thunderous explosion, which echoed through the atmosphere with an almost deafening presence as mist swirled on the place.

Excruciating pain surged relentlessly through every single fiber of your existence. you gritted your teeth with a force that could crack diamonds, whilst your muscles became as taut as tightly wound springs, while, your hands grasped onto the uneven, rough, and jagged terrain beneath you.

Your skin bore the traces of burns, blisters, and cuts adorning your body. Each breath you took through your nose was burdened with the heavy scent of blood and decaying flesh, reminiscent of the odor emanating from a freshly butchered pig, causing waves of nausea to wash over you. 

Although the blood did not carry your personal fragrance, it undeniably belonged to you, beceause it was ichor, and your oxygenated blood was currently trickling down your jawline, leaving a visible trail as it trailed down to your neck, gradually seeping into the delicate necklace adorning your throat while the uneven terrain below you etched bruises onto your already battered skin.

Your brow furrowed in distress as you struggled to catch your breath, feeling the constriction in your chest and the inability of your lungs to fully expand and take air, whilst the pain coursing through your body intensified, relentlessly tormenting you, making each breath a challenging task.

Your eyelids quivered as you tried to focus, but your vision started to fade, gradually becoming hazy and unfocused as a sudden and intense coughing fit took over you.

You instinctively reached up and clutched at your throat, feeling the warmth and stickiness of your vividly ichor blood trickling out. The droplets of your vibrant blood descended towards your body and to the ground, adding to the already stained complexion of your body. The searing sensation in your throat persisted, causing it to constrict even further while you continue to regurgitate blood.

Eventually, as the disturbing episode subsided, you slowly lifted your trembling wrist to your mouth, using it to gently wipe away the remnants of blood that had clung to your lips. In doing so, the vivid sanguine liquid was smudged across your skin.

The combination of smoky, metallic, musty scents, along with the burning aroma of leaves, assaulted your nostrils, which caused you to involuntary cough, although you were relieved to find no blood this time. Slowly, you gingerly lifted your head, taking in your surroundings with a look of cautiousness etched on your face.  

Where were you and what the fuck did just happened?

Utter confusion consumed you, and you couldn't help but question what had just unfolded.

Earlier, you were subjected to an excruciating torment inflicted by unknown forces, likely orchestrated by that bastard aionarch, and then you found yourself hurtling downwards from the celestial realm.

The events that had unfolded left you utterly flabbergasted.

In an attempt to make sense of it all, you furrowed your brows in puzzlement, lifting your head to carefully survey your surroundings, attempting to comprehend your current location.  

As you glanced around, a sense of unfamiliarity struck you, realizing that you were situated within a dense forest. However, a mist encircled your vicinity, reminiscent of a raging sandstorm, and despite the obstructed view, your vision of transparency allowed you to perceive through the swirling haze. 

The scene that unravelled before you was one of destruction and chaos, as fallen trees littered the ground, creating a disarrayed landscape, and Notably, a colossal crater lay beneath you. The forest floor was adorned with a carpet of decaying leaves, some of which were set ablaze, releasing plumes of smoke that engulfed the surroundings, which was probably caused by you.

As you gazed at the trees tumbling down, a feeling of unease washed over you, causing you to wince at the sudden destruction unfolding before your [E/c] eyes. It seemed almost as if the trees were toppling over like bowling pins, crashing to the ground in a chaotic display of you power and the realization dawned on you that perhaps your descent had triggered this chain of events, further deepening the sense of guilt and regret weighing heavy in your stomach. You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat as you grappled with the consequences of your actions. 

The dryness in your mouth and the lingering metallic sensation of your own blood on your taste buds only added to the discomfort.

Yet, Amidst this pandemonium, there was a sole detail that gripped your attention, and that detail was the fact that you're in the human world.

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𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐎 𝐉𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐍, 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝟎𝟐 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟒

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“Satoru, do you really think you can handle riding the bicycle?” inquired the man with the sleek black hair, his purple eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion as he tightly clutched the plastic bags containing their purchased eggs for breakfast.

Without missing a beat, said latter, Satoru confidently replied, placing a hand on his hip in a sassy manner as he looked at the black haired man cockily,

“Of course I can. Don't you have any faith in me, Suguru?” His ocean blue eyes squinted as he cocked his head to the side inquisitively, a small smirk playing on his succulent lips.

“No, I don't.” Suguru murmured bluntly, his words devoid of any sugarcoating, causing Satoru to whine in disappointment, for this was not the answer he was expecting to get.

Suguru approached the bicycle, asserting himself as the rightful driver instead of Satoru, for he was hesitant to trust Satoru behind the wheel, knowing all too well the recklessness that would ensue if Satoru were given control of the vehicle.

“Don't be like that suguruuuuu”

Satoru whined, sounding like a child who hadn't gotten their desired toy, the desperation was evident in his voice as he grasped the black haired man's wrist and attempting to persuade him to switch roles.

“Please suguru? Just this once,”

Satoru's lips quivered, blue eyes looking at Suguru with desperation, adorning his face with a pitiable expression that tugged at Suguru's heartstrings, prompting a faint sense of pity to stir within him, despite the man’s annoyance.

“I really do know how to ride, I promise!! pretty pleaseeee?” Satoru insisted, employing a childish tone and batting his long lashes while looking up at Suguru with puppy eyes, clasping his hands together in a pleading manner to emphasize his pleading. 

Grudgingly, Suguru let out a frustrated sigh, his chest rising and falling with each breath as he reluctantly gave in. His brows were furrowed, and he couldn't help feeling irritated that he had caved so easily just because of Satoru's pitiful expression.

“Alright,” he grumbled, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as he doubted Satoru's driving abilities. 

“..Just this once,” Suguru stated firmly, his lips pressed into a thin line to show that there would be no room for negotiation.

Satoru beamed in delight as he squeezed suguru’s wrist.

“I promise, you won't regret it! You've chosen the right person to trust,” Satoru exclaimed enthusiastically, causing Suguru to let out a heavy sigh, his breath visible in the cold air as he observed Satoru's excitement.

“Have I really, though?” Suguru muttered to himself skeptically, before letting out an amused scoff at the whole situation, his lips curling up into a small smile.

Satoru confidently positioned himself on the bike, his eyes sparkling with excitement, a bright beam on his face. Meanwhile, Suguru carefully positioned himself behind Satoru, his grip on the bag of eggs tightening.

And the moment satoru placed his feet on the pedal, suguru knew that this drive is going to be fucked up because satoru was literally driving so fast.

Suguru could feel his heartbeat quicken as Satoru accelerated, their bodies were pressed closely together and Suguru's head was  leaning on Satoru's shoulder as he spoke softly to him in hushed tones.

“You said that you'd be careful,  didn't you?” he murmured, his warm breath tickling the skin of the white-haired man's neck, sending a slight shiver down his spine.  

“No, I didn't, i never said that after all” Satoru countered, feeling a bubble of laughter forming in his throat.

“I simply mentioned that I am capable of handling the bike and this is just a one-time thing,” he added, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. He tightened his grip on the handlebars, urging the bicycle to go faster, prompting Suguru to pull away and let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Please, slow down,” Suguru implored, his grip on the plastic bags tightening.

Passersby gave them strange looks as they navigated through the road and Suguru's eyes widened in alarm when they narrowly missed running over with an elderly woman on the road. He instinctively gripped Satoru's shoulder, urging him to decelerate and suguru almost fell off the bike because of the speed.

“Watch out!” Suguru exclaimed, fearful of harming the innocent pedestrian. 

“Oops! Sorry!”

Satoru laughed and swerved, barely avoiding the elderly woman, causing her to cry out in indignation. Ignoring her protests, Satoru continued pedaling while Suguru hastily apologized for the incident. 

“Satoru! I told you to slow— ah! Slow Down!” 

Suguru felt a sudden jolt in his chest as he saw the lamp post looming dangerously close, almost taking the air out of his lungs. However, Satoru steered them away from the collision just in time.  

“Oh my god, satoru, i told you to be careful!” Suguru moaned in annoyance.

“Lighten up, Suguru, don't be such a buzzkill!” Satoru teased, shaking his head in amusement.

“no, ‘m not. ’m not being a kill joy”

“Yes you are,”

The cool wind rushed through Satoru's hair, adding to the exhilaration he felt as he barely managed to maneuvere through the narrow and winding streets, Suguru regretted that he had let satoru drive, because it was obvious that satoru doesn't have any hesitation or regard for the rules of the road.

Suguru felt the bag slipping from his grip as the force of their speed increased, causing his fingers to tighten around it and his face to contort in annoyance.

“You’re driving too fast, seriously” His heart raced, his voice barely audible over the roaring wind.

Apprehension painted Suguru's face as his eyes suddenly widened, realizing the danger they were in. However, Satoru remained completely oblivious to his friend's alarm, too consumed by the exhilarating rush of their ride to heed his warnings. 

“Damn it, Satoru, slow down! We're going to crash!”

As the road stretched out before them, a sharp curve emerged in the distance, and Satoru, being the dumbass he is, saw this as an invitation to push the limits of the bike, gripping the handlebars tightly and leaning into the turn, They careened through the bend, their bodies mere inches away from disaster as they narrowly skirted the edge of the road. The bag containing the precious eggs shook violently, teetering dangerously, and for a brief moment, the thought of breakfast seemed inconsequential compared to the imminent peril they faced. 

As they sped along, with satoru ignoring suguru's complaints, the looming figure of the forest ahead seemed to rise up to meet them. However, it was not the familiar sight people would expect.

The forest was an ashen wasteland, littered with fallen trees, charred leaves, and other debris and The serene presence of nature had been replaced by chaos and destruction for some unknown reasons.

Suguru's eyes widened, his jaw clenching slightly. “Satoru... Slow down..” Suguru said for the 500th time, wincing as satoru increased the pace again.

“Damn it, slow down a little would you?” He hissed, because despite the unfolding devastation, Satoru's adrenaline-fueled need for speed hindered his ability to see the danger that lay ahead.

“Slow down! WAIT—” Suguru's eyes widened as he saw that they were going to crash, his Adams apple bobs as his breath hitched in his throat.

“STOP SATORU—!”

And Before they had a chance to react, they found themselves hurtling into the dense foliage, the loud crash of their impact engulfing their surroundings. The bike skidded and twisted, throwing them off with a forceful jolt, causing their bodies to tumble through the underbrush like rag dolls, the bag of eggs swung wildly in the air before ultimately smacking Suguru square on the head, the impact shattering the fragile shells and releasing the yolks in a messy torrent.

Sticky, golden streams of yolk rained down upon Suguru's neat jet-black hair and his bewildered face, causing him to gag and grimace in disgust as the slimy egg white dripped onto his nose and managed to sneak through his tightly pressed lips, leaving an unwelcome taste in his mouth. With furrowed brows and a raised wrist, Suguru attempted to wipe away the offensive yolk and egg white, his frustration palpable in the swift motion.

“I f-fucking told you to slow down, didn't i?”   With a tone filled with bitterness, Suguru directed his words towards Satoru, his voice dripping with venom as he expelled the remaining pieces of the egg from his mouth, clearly displaying his irritation.  

“Remind me never to entrust you with a bike again,” he continued, his tone tinged with irritation directed both at Satoru and himself for allowing the reckless behavior to unfold. He should have known that Satoru's lack of driving knowledge would lead to disaster. And not only had their breakfast plans been ruined, but their current predicament in this peculiar forest had left Suguru feeling thoroughly disgruntled.

Grumbling under his breath, he brushed the dirt off his shirt, only to find that the hair tie he had used to secure his unruly mane had snapped, leaving his once-tamed locks to cascade freely on his shoulders.

Meanwhile, Satoru let out an abrupt yelp as he tumbled face-first into the dirt, eliciting a grimace as the taste of earth invaded his mouth.

“EWWWW!” he exclaimed, his voice tinged with revulsion, as he stood up and reflexively stuck out his tongue in an attempt to rid himself of the unwelcome earthy flavor.

“Must you always find a way to involve us in mishaps?”  Suguru chided, his voice tight with exasperation as he gingerly plucked the eggshells from his hair and threw it on the ground. His once impeccable appearance was now marred by the yolk that was now slowly dribbling down his neck as he shot an accusing glare at Satoru, who was attempting to extricate a leaf from between his teeth with little success.

“Hey! It's not my fault!”   Satoru protested as he gasped for breath,expelling the leaf from his mouth, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he desperately tried to replenish his oxygen supply. He could feel the strain on his lungs from the impact that had taken his breath away.  

“Yes it is,”   Suguru replied with a hint of frustration in his voice, his face contorted in a grimace as he stared closely at the gooey and sticky remains of the broken egg shell.

“Now we're a mess, and our breakfast has gone up in smoke,” Suguru grumbled, his tone heavy with dissatisfaction.

“And on top of that, we're currently in this weird forest.” Suguru harrumphed, his eyes darting around at the scene of destruction that surrounded them.

“Where on earth have you brought us, Satoru?”

His purple hued eyes narrowed as he carefully observed their surroundings, feeling a sense of unease as his throat constricts slightly, his jaw setting tight and his eyebrows drew together with concern, trying to make sense of their current situation. 

“Uhhh...”   Satoru blinked, unsure of how to respond. He gazed around, realizing that the surroundings were completely unfamiliar to him. The latter attempted to recall any information that could explain his current situation yet he found his mind oddly blank.

“I dunno, maybe a Forrest or a desert?”

Satoru said dumbly.

Suguru ignored satoru’s obtuse suggestion of them being in a desert, responding with a disapproving glare and even gesturing with his middle finger to show his frustration. Feeling frustrated, Suguru took a deep breath and centered his attention on examining the unusual environment they were in.

While navigating through the landscape, Suguru observed that it was far from being a typical forest. The terrain reminded him of the desolate and eerie settings often depicted in post-apocalyptic zombie apocalypse movies. Proceeding with caution, he remained vigilant as he surveyed his surroundings, making sure to avoid tripping over the discarded and broken bicycle. 

Despite the annoyance of having an egg cracked over his head, with the yolk and egg white trickling down his face before, Suguru was more focused on knowing their current location. 

“This isn't a normal forrest, not at all,” Suguru mumbled.

“No shit, Sherlock. Who said that this was a normal forest?”

“Shut up, Satoru.”

Satoru scoffed at that and scanned the area, acknowledging the strange isolation of the place and doubting the existence of another forest like this on the way to their school. Confident in his knowledge of the route to their dorm, he dismissed the possibility of mistakenly venturing into this peculiar location, because perhaps, this was the same Forrest that had the shortcut to their school.

Just as Satoru was lost in contemplation, Suguru's voice broke his reverie, prompting him to refocus on their current predicament.  

“Satoru,”

“What?” the white haired man replied, brows furrowing in confusion.

“Look at this,”

Suguru's eyes were focused intently on a massive bush engulfed in flames as he gestured towards it. The size of the bush was quite substantial, with what appeared to be feathers decorating its foliage. Satoru, following Suguru's pointed finger, squinted slightly as he too directed his gaze towards the blazing bush before his eyes widened for a split second.

“What the hell is that?” Satoru whispered.

“Why is that bush orange and red?”

“I don't know either,”

Suguru cautiously approached the bush, his mind racing with thoughts of a possible cursed spirit lurking within its depths. His lips were tightly pressed in contemplation, his senses heightened as he tried to discern any signs of cursed energy emanating from the mysterious foliage. Despite his keen perception, Suguru could not detect any cursed presence, only a lingering sense of someone's invisible presence. 

 “Do you think that there’s a cursed spirit there?”

“No,” responded Satoru, his expression growing somber as he joined Suguru near the very huge burning bush. His brows furrowed slightly, betraying the gravity of the situation at hand. 

“I don't sense any cursed energy nor do my six eyes reveal any hidden truths,” Satoru remarked, after all, with his extrasensory perception, he possessed the unique gift of discerning the intricacies of cursed energy flows and reading cursed techniques with unparalleled accuracy, and he couldn’t sense any cursed energy om that ‘bush’.

“Do you?” Satoru asked.

“No,” Suguru admitted, taking a cautious step closer to the imposing burning bush or whatever that stood before them. He was intrigued by the enigma that lay before them, unsure of what secrets it held within its vibrant exterior. 

Before Suguru could walk closer to it, Satoru intervened, seizing his hand and forcibly pulling him away from the bush. His eyes narrowed in focus as he studied the object intently, a sense of unease creeping over him.

“That's not a bush,” Satoru declared the obvious that they failed to notice before.

“Nor is it a cursed spirit lurking in the shadows.” He gestured towards the bush, drawing Suguru's attention to its subtle movements.

Initially, Satoru assumed that the object in question was simply a regular bush that had been surrounded by lava or some other substance, even though logically that would not be possible. However, he had a strong conviction that the entity was actually alive, as he observed subtle movements in its form that resembled the act of breathing.

“Look closely, Suguru. It's breathing,”

“I don't know what the hell that thing is, but it's definitely dangerous.”

Releasing Suguru's hand, satoru folded his arms tightly across his chest, keeping a vigilant watch on the subtle gestures of the unfamiliar being.  

Suguru stood frozen in place, his mind working overtime to decipher Satoru's words. It took a few moments for his comprehension to catch up with his thoughts and he realized that satoru was right, it's not a bush.

Because after all, why on earth would a bush burn and not turn into ashes? Suguru couldn't help but wonder if he's getting just as dumb as satoru.

As he peered closer, he noticed the steady rhythm of the creature's breathing. The enormity of the beast and the intense aura it emitted filled him with an unshakable sense of intrigue.    

Suguru's gaze locked onto it and his breath hitched as he saw something—a stunning display of colorful feathers in shades of crimson, orange, and even cerulean was in it.

It was at that moment he identified the unmistakable shape of wings stretching out. The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning—this wasn't just a simple bush. It was a living creature, concealed within the fiery blaze.    

Phoenix.

A fucking phoenix was present in front of them, resting, the same bird that is known for its ability to be reborn from its own ashes after burning itself on a funeral pyre, allowing it to live another life cycle with renewed youth, was Infront of them.

“It's a phoenix,” Suguru whispered, his voice barely audible as his breath caught in his throat. The furrow between his brows deepened, a mix of astonishment and understanding clouding his features. The legendary phoenix, a creature of myth and legend, was materializing right before their eyes. Despite being obscured by the flames.

Its avian form was evident in the way the fire danced along its plumage. The brightly colored feathers in shades of red, orange, and the dazzling cerulean radiated a vivid aura around the creature.

“I thought that they were already extinct and existed only in mythology...” Suguru mumbled to himself, his brows knitting together in confusion, As far as he knew, phoenixes were simply mythical creatures and did not actually exist. So, why in the world was there a phoenix here? 

Realizing the potential danger of the situation, Suguru knew that he needed to inform the higher ups about the presence of the mythical bird. 

“Satoru,” Suguru called out, turning to look at Satoru with a grave expression on his face. 

“We should not disturb it and instead report this to—”  Suguru's words trailed off as he was taken aback by the sight of Satoru picking up a large rock, preparing to hurl it at the slumbering phoenix. 

“Satoru, NO!”

Suguru exclaimed as he made a move to intervene, but it was already too late. The rock was hurtling towards the phoenix, and Suguru winced as it made contact, shattering upon impact on the bird's figure.

His lips slightly parted as he swallowed thickly, the movement of his Adam's apple noticeable. A vein throbbed on his neck as his heart began to race, the pounding sound echoing in his chest.

“...are you attempting to get us incinerated and friend by an angry bird?” Suguru questioned with a poker face despite panicking internally while casting a wary gaze at Satoru, who blinked in response.    

“Well—” Satoru began to explain, but his words were cut short by a sudden feminine voice, tinged with a hint of hoarseness as if the speaker had just woken up.    

“Urgh...was that?”

inquired the voice, causing Satoru's already pale complexion to go even more ghostly, while Suguru froze in place, his mouth hanging open in shock like a fish out of water. 

“...what did I just hear...” Suguru muttered, feeling his heart race in his chest as he realized that the voice belonged to the phoenix, probably.

“Su..su..suguru..” sputtered Satoru, struggling to find the right words as he pointed a trembling finger at the phoenix, which began to awaken.    

Suguru turned towards Satoru, a look of bewilderment clouding his features, his breathing becoming labored as shock set in.

“Satoru,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Suguru! It spoke! It actually spoke! The phoenix fucking talked!” Satoru screamed like a girl in disbelief, his voice reaching a high pitch as he processed the astonishing event, for he was taken aback and bewildered by the unexpected event of a phoenix speaking.

The idea of needing therapy after such a surreal experience seemed like a possibility to him. He had encountered cursed spirits that can speak before, but a phoenix that lacked cursed energy and speaking was beyond anything he had ever imagined.

It made him question if this was how the first person to hear a parrot speak felt.

The series of bizarre events that had led to this moment added to Satoru's sense of disbelief and horror. First, their unexpected crash landing in the strange forest, then accidentally ingesting dirt and having a leaf stuck in his teeth, and now, a phoenix was speaking???

Terrifying.

Mortifying.

Petrifying.

Horrifying.

Suddenly, Satoru felt suguru’s hand firmly encircle his waist, before lifting him effortlessly into the air. Satoru was so flabbergasted by the unexpected turn of events that he couldn't even voice a protest, especially after witnessing the phoenix speaking before his eyes.

Suguru then hoisted Satoru onto his shoulders in a manner reminiscent of carrying a sack of potatoes, swiftly and decisively moving the mortified man away from the unfolding scene.    

“We need to report this to the higher ups,” Suguru murmured urgently. Suguru was aware that he and Satoru had the ability to fight the phoenix easily in battle, because they are the strongest after all. but what he was concerned about was the potential consequences. He didn’t want to attract the attention of the higher-ups and face their stupid scoldings.

The discovery of a phoenix had just been made, and Suguru knew that the higher-ups would be fascinated by such a rare and powerful creature. Thus, this meant that they couldn't simply eliminate the phoenix without facing severe repercussions. 

Raising one hand while holding Satoru with the other, Suguru conjured a portal-like opening, from which his cursed spirits started to emerge.

Satoru on the other hand, Despite his lack of knowledge and mastery of his cursed technique, raised two of his fingers to attempt to use it.

“Cursed Technique Reversal: Red.”

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𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

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𑁍ࠬܓ━━𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒:

𝟎𝟎𝟏.[Name] has already lost her immortality, thus meaning that after her descent to the jjk world, she's not an immortal anymore, meaning that she can die now.

𝟎𝟎𝟐.It also means that her achilles’ heel is gone too, so she was basically vulnerable. (Also, her high pain tolerance is now gone too cause she's not an immortal anymore teehee)

𝟎𝟎𝟑.[Name] still has some of her powers like her pyrokinesis and shapeshifting, but she definitely doesn't have her regeneration ability now. Also, she decided to shapeshift into a phoenix for a reason!

𝐅𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒:

𝟎𝟎𝟏.Satoru and Suguru are still second years in this, meaning that Yu and kento is still on first year!!

𝟎𝟎𝟐. Suguru and Satoru would’ve just assumed that the reader is a weird bush if she didn’t spoke or moved.

𝟎𝟎𝟑. At first, Suguru and Satoru thought it was a ghost since technically, the place where the reader fell in is a suicide Forrest.

𝟎𝟎𝟒. Satoru was fascinated and definitely has an idea on what to do to [Name].

🔪 || 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒

╰┈➤ 𝟎%

—𝐒atoru wants to kill you, like literally, because he wants to eat you. He thinks that he'll get stronger if he eats you, Though, he's still wondering on how to cook you.

╰┈➤ 𝟐% (𝐔𝐩 𝟐%)

—𝐒uguru is intrigued by you, and he was planning on consuming you, just like satoru (even though you're not a cursed spirit) because he thinks that you're pretty powerful and all. Though, he has a lingering suspicion, that you might be one of yaga's creations for two reasons, one phoenixes only exists in mythologies and they were also said to be extinct too in mythologies, and two, you can speak.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Satoru still doesn't know how to use red, cause yk, he's still a teen in here and hasn't awakened yet, meaning that it might not work, so meaning that [Name] has a chance of being safe. But Suguru is still there, so it's still dangerous.

I used the manga version of suguru's eye color because why not? Purple eyes suits him.

[lostcauses-noregrets]

Bad Boy

A few meta-type thoughts about Bad Boy, now the dust has started to settle.  There could hardly have been more hype in the run up to the release of Shingeki FLY, but Bad Boy certainly delivered.  It’s classic Isayama; for such a short chapter it really packs an emotional punch, blending real pathos and tragedy with shockingly graphic violence and body horror.  It doesn't really add anything to the over all plot, which is to be expected, but it does provide insight into Levi’s character and answers one question that fans have been speculating about for years.

The story of why Levi holds his tea cup in such a peculiar way isn’t new. Isayama mentioned this in a magazine interview (I think?) way back in 2014

Q: …why he has such way of holding cup? Isayama: About that, I was thinking of drawing this one day. When he was a kid, Levi was living in slums and poverty. He was yearning for a life in clean & neat environment (not rich life). When he finally obtained the tea and tea set those he has been desperately wanted, he was rejoicing that finally he can drink it. But when he started to grip on the handle and lift up the cup, the handle came off and his cup was shattered. He was so traumatised by this experience and that’s why he changed his way of holding cups to not using the handle.

However we now know that the cup belonged to his mother and the extraordinary lengths Levi went to recover it. What is new is that we finally have confirmation of when Levi’s Ackerpowers were awakened.  Fans have been arguing about this for years; some thought it was when he killed the man with the knife immediately before Kenny left, others suggested it was when Farlan and Isabel were killed. Now we finally have an answer.  It’s not exactly clear how much time has lapsed between Kenny taking Levi in, his powers awakening, and Kenny leaving, however the fact that Kuchel’s tea set hadn’t yet made its way to the surface suggests that not much time had passed at all. 

Levi’s description of his powers awakening is fascinating;  

“Strangely enough I didn’t doubt what was happening to me at that moment. The pain had vanished, my head was calm, as if it had been immersed in water. Clear instructions on what to do came to my mind. I simply followed them one by one.”

This is the most information we’ve ever had about the famous Ackerpowers and goes some way to explaining Levi and Mikasa’s preternatural calm and focus when they're fighting.   They really only succumb to panic and despair when their loved ones are threatened.  Think of Mikasa in Shiganshina and at Fort Salta, and Levi when Farlan and Isabel die and when he allows Zeke to escape after Erwin rode out to his death. 

The panel illustrating Levi’s powers awakening is also interesting as it looks very like a Titan transformation. This suggests there is more than a grain of truth in what the Yeagers said about Ackermans being a by-product of Titan science, who were able to access the power of the Titans without becoming Titans themselves.   

It’s not difficult to draw a direct line between the abuse and persecution Levi suffered as a child, with his determination to use his power to protect those in need.  Initially he used his strength to protect the vulnerable people of the Underground, such as Isabel, however once he met Erwin he was able to exert his power to serve an even higher goal - saving humanity. Isayama discussed this in the Answers Guidebook way back in 2006 and I think his comments are worth repeating here. 

Isayama With the heroes of American comics, conflicts dealing with the situation “with great power, comes great responsibility” have been depicted. In Levi’s case, if he had no power, he would probably have been an ordinary person with no responsibilities but, as a consequence of having power, that he became a person excessively burdened with responsibility. Kenny talked about “everyone… was a slave to something…”, when he put the question to Levi “what is yours!?”, Levi himself too perceived it. That he himself too was a slave in regard to his own strength. The sense of duty that “I must become a hero”. …the same thing can be said of Mikasa too but…, for the Ackerman family, in the service of their master, there are many people who are able to manifest their power to its maximum.

[Translation by @tsuki-no-ura]

I think it's also very in keeping with Levi's character that he remained devoted to saving humanity after the Rumbling; providing succour to the children in the refugee camp, and working to renew the environment destroyed by Eren's genocide, despite his injuries and regardless of whether he retained his Ackerpowers.

The title of the chapter, Bad Boy, is also interesting. No one actually calls Levi a “bad boy” in the chapter (though he is called worse) which suggests that this is how Levi sees himself.  It makes me wonder how much he internalised the thug’s insinuation that his mother would have been disappointed in him, and it also recalls Levi’s speech to Historia and the 104th, where he says he’s fine playing the role of the violent lunatic.  Poor baby.

Another point the chapter clarifies is the origin of Levi’s belief that Kenny was his father.  To be honest, it’s hardly surprising that Levi assumed this considering Kenny clearly had some kind of relationship with his mother and took him in without question. Still, knowing that the seed of that belief was planted by a thug who was willing to torture and kill a child, or sell him into sexual slavery, really twists the knife. 

[Translation by krtk.]

I am a little sad that we didn’t see more of Kenny in the chapter, but his presence certainly looms large.

I had expected to see more of Kuchel but at the same time I’m almost glad we didn’t.  Her life was brutal beyond measure and we’ve already seen her tragic death. Several fans have suggested that the reason we only see Kuchel in partial profile is because Levi’s memories of her are so hazy, all he really recalls is her grace 😢

It’s remarkable that Kuchel was able to retain such poise and grace despite living in such desperate squalor.  @momtaku has made the point that Kuchel appears to have been born into at least modest comfort, judging from Grandpa Ackermans’ home, which would explain where her elegance and also her fancy china came from.  It’s heartbreaking that both she and Levi clung on to this small memento of a better life. 

Levi’s devotion to his mother, his desire to emulate her grace and cling on to her belongings is devastating, is very much in keeping with everything we know about his character.  Levi has boundless compassion, is deeply loyal, and never forgets those he loves, whether it’s Farlan and Isabel, Erwin, or his squad.  He’s also very sentimental; saving his mother’s tea set, and drinking tea evokes a direct connection to Kuchel and the only good thing he remembers from the squalor and cruelty of his childhood. This makes Erwin’s willingness to indulge his sentimentality and bend the rules to procure a steady supply of high quality tea for Levi all the more poignant. 

There's been some debate about Gabi's reaction to Levi's story in the final panel...

Some people have interpreted her expression as holding back tears, while others have suggested she's trying not to laugh. I'm definitely in the stifled laughter camp. It just seems so very typical of Gabi and her relationship with Levi...

Gabi: - winds Levi up - Levi: - trauma dumps - Gabi: - stifled laughter / more wind up - Falco: - actually upset - "Would you guys stop??" Onyankopon: - shade -

It's also very typical of Isayama to poke fun at his characters like this, and it stops the story from tipping over into bathos.

There is one burning question that Bad Boy doesn’t answer and it’s this - what tf was kid Levi doing in Mr Smith’s classroom?? 

Despite hoping against hope, I never really expected Isayama to answer this, because he does love to troll his readers.  Is it too much to hope that sometime down the line he’ll reappear with another chapter called School Boy??