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darealsaltysam · 9 months ago

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I JUST GOT BACK FROM SEEING DUNE PART 2 AND HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD HOLY SHIT HOLY FUUUUCK I NEED TO. I NEED TO. I NEED TO TALK SO BAD HOLY SHIT

below the cut because oh boy do i have a lot to say and i dont want my poor followers to suffer when i post this

oh my god okay okay where do i even start

opening with irulan's narration to mirror her notes in the openings of the chapters of the book. oh yeah baby. i ate that right up

watching paul get close with the fremen,,,,, fucking hell that hurts. dune really is a tragedy at the end of the day huh. they go from reluctant allies to friends but the whole time you know the switch will happen any moment now and they will be devotees and he will be messiah and that gap between them will never be as small as it is out in the sand. huddled in those tents. sharing drinks and laughs. im not doing ok

this especially hurts with chani. their love is so genuine and pure and she wears blue for him (which by the way sticks out so much more with how muted the colors of the rest of the movie are... i could talk about this all day) but she can see what he is becoming and he's trying to avoid it for her so hard but there's no avoiding fate. LORD ABOVE!!!!

i loveeee jessica being the manipulator thats pulling all the strings, urging paul towards becoming messiah. rebecca ferguson is such a talented actress she really understands the character so well. also as a hashtag certified alia atreides enjoyer her scheming with her unborn fetus might be the most unhinged thing ever but thats also so fucking funny aka its as dune as it gets. dune is WEIRD and im glad theyre not shying away from that. thank u denis

arrakis looks so much more beautiful in this movie like theres defo been some changes with how its framed and presented it feels so much grander and idk just ??? what it makes me think is that we're not seeing arrakis, we're finally seeing dune. we're seeing the land as the fremen see it as paul becomes one of them. i might be looking too much into it but who cares. god i love this movie

but yes more on the fremen in the first section of the movie. i like how there's this cluster of non-believers almost?? its a nice breath of fresh air. its hard to believe every single person would be just devoted to the prophecy and it adds some depth.

i will say the one thing i didnt like is the way stilgar is characterized?? i dont think he was so blindly devoted to paul in the books, and definitely not alia and leto ii after him as the atreides line went on. he's always been a source of small doubt towards paul but i think they're moving that element of him onto chani, so i think i can let it slide. i'd like to see him question alia more in the future though.

the scene where paul was named muad'dib and usul??? god it was so cute which made it so heart wrenching. all the fremen coming together and welcoming him into their lives. as a brother. as a friend. only for him to turn around and make them all bow before him. ohhhhh i cant do this

OH BOY THE WORMS THE WORMS AND THE WORM RIDING AND THE AHHHHHHHHH OH LORD

jesus christ. what the fuck. how is this allowed on cinema screens how is something so amazing allowed

the tension. the effects. the sound design. the sand rushing past the wind the worm moving forward paul struggling to hold on the fremen all watching and then cheering him on HOLY FUCKKKK HOLY FUCK I WAS HOLDING MY BREATH

all the worm riding scenes were so intense and so well done like. when i first read that stuff in the books i didnt think anything could ever capture how i imagined it exactly and yet. AND YET. DENIS!!!!!!!!

once more dune hits the idea of scale SO well everything is HUGE and they MAKE YOU FEEL IT. that shows especially with geidi prime but ill talk about that in a bit. but yes this applies to the worms too lord above them WORMSSSS ARE HUGEEEE AND I LOVE THEMMMM

rebecca ferguson put her heart and soul into that water of life scene and we all need to thank her for it

the way jessica is so quick to switch up and go all in on the prophecy. it makes me think of leto's "im not asking his mother, im asking the bene gesserit" like. the bene gesserit really come first for jessica and she takes her opportunity to fulfill her duties. to be the reverend mother. to rub it all in the faces of the other bene gesserit. she is the mother of the messiah and by god will she make everyone well aware of that

okay. okay okay. i think i said my peace on the early fremen stuff. i think. okay fuck okay SHIT fuck SHIT

FEYD FUCKING RAUTHA LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

oh my god okay. okay ill admit it. i doubted austin butler. i saw the cast list and i was unsure(tm). i saw him in the trailers and my faith was restored. and holy fucking shit did he DELIVER

stellan skarsgård's baron harkonnen is already such a threatening figure it feels like it would be impossible to make someone even more terrifying and yet. AND YET

just the way he's introduced. killing servants with zero remorse. LICKING THAT KNIFE THE WAY HE DID??? OKAY WHORE. I SEE YOU. GO RIGHT AHEAD. MAKE IT SLUTTY IN HOUSE HARKONNEN. I RESPECT IT

when the arena doors open and that loud ass fucking music BOOMS. makes the room fucking SHAKE. thats a PRESENCE right there. THATS how you introduce your antagonist.

the music playing as he fights being as fucking deranged as he is. chaotic and weird and unsettling. just. oh my god feyd had such a presence from the moment he showed up and he did not lose it for a single second. you could feel him LOOMING over the movie the whole time just as he looms over the whole book from his very first scene. oh my goddddd oh my godd

GEIDI PRIME. THE ARENA. THAT MASSIVE HARKONNEN PALACE. oh my god. once more. that sense of scale. the harkonnens love to flaunt their wealth so ofc they have huge fuck off arenas and castles where everything and everyone feels so SMALL in comparison.

dont even get me started on the black and white. the way it accents those coal black teeth and mouths. the way it makes everything look so much more inhuman and clinical and PERFECT because harkonnen power is so absolute and ruthless.

and the way the baron sits so so high above watching the fighting. literally impossible to picture his elevation above his people above the rest of the universe. the way feyd looks to him for approval after every movement. even as his uncle is trying to kill him they exchange those little looks and feyd knows hes getting his chance to show off while the baron gives him his "gift" what a fucked up family what the hell

speaking of fucked up family! wow! they are SO fucked up! there is something seriously strange being hinted at with feyd and the baron! feyd making his own brother bow and kiss his boot! those constant threats of death against rabban as if theyre nothing! this family is capital f FUCKED up. they hurt each other as much as they hurt everyone around them. theyre made of violence and blood and they could never show each other kindness because they dont know such a thing

what can i say about the feyd/margot scenes that hasnt been said already. like wow just unpack the boy's trauma like that. use him and then throw him to the wolves. once again the bene gesserit make it so clear this is THEIR empire and THEIR bloodlines and THEIR messiah. too bad jessica doesnt see that collective "ours" and instead settles for "mine" when it comes to the messiah

special shout out to dave bautista before i move on. just cause. his rabban doesnt get enough love. he really sells that balance of ruthless power but also incompetency compared to his brother so well. can you guys tell i REALLY like this cast

WE ACTUALLY GOT TO SEE GURNEY PLAYING THE BALISET WE FUCKING WIN Y'ALL

the paul/gurney reunion being the last shred of the old paul. how he gets so happy "i recognized your footsteps, old man" shoot me in the fucking brain stem it would HURT LESS

a bit off topic and it happened earlier (sorry my thoughts are so all over the place) but i like how they actually showed the process of how the water of life is made. it was actually exactly like how i imagined it when i read the books so thats neat !!

anyway. back to the horrors.

i already talked so much about feyd's presence so just another small note. that scene in sietch tabr. he is a MONSTER and i am EATING IT UP

i cant even begin to explain. how much it fucked me up. when paul took the water of life. i knew thats where we were going. i knew it was unavoidable. and yet still. when chani bent over him and screamed at everyone for making him follow this prophecy. when she was forced to shed tears to save his life. when she got him back only to realize she lost him and he wasnt the person she loved anymore. it broke me

chani's utter hatred for the prophecy and what paul is becoming added to it so much. i know some people are unhappy with how much shes been changed from the books but i think its elevated her character and all these scenes so much. and oh my god does zendaya DELIVER when the spotlight is on her. i never doubted her for a moment but all those changes to chani really allowed to let her shine. thats that euphoria acting coming out baby !!!!

SPEAKING OF GOOD ACTING

TIMOTHEE

FUCKING

CHALAMET

listen i hate the fact that he gets cast in everything these days as much as everyone but hes such a talented actor and i cant deny this anymore. the water of life scene really sold it for me.

he was such a perfect paul already in the first movie but this was the moment it really came out. the way he wakes up so calm and collected. lifeless. monotone. theres nothing theres literally nothing

paul atreides the boy who became duke far too young is dead usul who was the lover of chani is dead muad'dib the fedaykin fighter is dead only the kwisatz haderach remains and thats what the prophecy was always leading us to and yet the moment it happens its so haunting

like i cannot say this enough. that complete switch is so sudden but so subtle at the same time. its still paul technically but hes so different

what makes dune's weird concepts so easy to take in once you get into the book is all that internal monologue that really leads you through these complex concepts slowly. and yet in a few shots and a few lines of dialogue timothee chalamet somehow manages to express the idea of "i just learned the secrets of the fucking universe and im about to start a holy war" ???? HOW DO YOU EVEN DO THIS???? HOW ARE YOU THIS TALENTED???? OH MY GOD!!!!!!!! IT WAS A FEW LOOKS A FEW MOVENTS JUST THE RIGHT TONE OF VOICE AND THATS HIM!!! THATS HIM BABY!!!! THATS THE KWISATZ HADERACH AND THE UNIVERSE IS FUCKED !!!!!!!!!

also. anya taylor joy alia. we only had you for a split second but i cannot wait for you. im sure youre going to completely slay the third movie. give us our beloved tragic meow meow. alia is my fave character so i will be JUDGING HEAVILY. she better bring her a-game istg

when paul storms the war council and just completely takes control of the room so easily. thats the bene gesserit conditioning giving him his pedestal and he is making the most of it. he knows exactly what the fuck hes doing. and once more oh my goddddd all that shouting all that emotion and yet a complete lack of it. timothee spare a crumb of talent for the rest of us

also the way in that scene gurney is hesitant about it all until paul proclaims himself the duke of arrakis. and suddenly gurney has house atreides again and he doesnt care what chani does anymore. hes a follower to paul just as everyone else in that room. nothing changes. fuck me man i cant do this anymore

have i mentioned yet im so excited for chani in the next movie. her arc is so interesting. children of dune is defo not happening with the way chani has been set up so i doubt we'll see leto ii and ghanima but. lets hope we still get all the cool stuff wit alia at least. and maybe chani can be the one who leads the charge against her

okay i need to really fucking. get along with it im dragging this post on im so sorry this movie is eating my brain alive

chani still wearing blue during the final fight. im not saying more than that i might cry if i think about it too much

THAT. FINAL. FIGHT. OH MY GODDD OH MY GOD

IT ALL CAME TOGETHER SO SO WELL

THE WORMS

THE SENSE OF SCALE

THE FIGHT CHOREOGRAPHY

THE MUSIC HOLY FUCK THE MUSIC HANS ZIMMER YOU OUTDO YOURSELF EVERY TIME

THE SOUND

EVERYTHING FLOWING TOGETHER SO WELL

the way the fremen fight for their messiah but still fly the atreides banner. the way paul leads them as their messiah and as a "fremen" but always proclaims himself duke of house atreides first. oh lorddd im unwell

every time paul menacingly emerged from fog/sand/smoke my life was extended by like 10 years thank u denis

gurney killing rabban with as much ease as he did cleared my skin and watered my crops <3

the way the baron was literally dying and still crawling towards the throne.......... the way at the same time feyd ignored him completely and looked towards the doors reveling in the fight ahead..... if that doesnt tell u everything you need to know about house harkonnen idk what will yall

i also love how no one intervenes as paul walks in and kills the baron. not even feyd. feyd looks like he was a little TOO into it as paul killed him tbh. feyd u little freak. austin butler you talented talented man. im unwell

i AM sad we didnt get to see baby alia stab him but ah well. we got a bunch of other weird dune shit so ill let this one slide. the psychic toddler may be too much even for denis and everything he did give us. we'll always have our 1984 alia <3

OHOHOHOHOHOHOH. OH. HERE WE GO

HERE WE GO YALL

THE SCENE IVE BEEN WAITING FOR SINCE READING THE BOOK

THE SCENE THEY SHOWED BITS OF IN THE TRAILER AND THE SCENE IVE BEEN NON STOP YEARNING FOR SINCE!!!

THE DUEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh my god oh my god oh my goddddd where do i even start

okay so. the way theres no music. no fancy cuts no slow mo no over the top effects. its just the slashing of the blades and those BEAUTIFUL shadowed shots with the setting sun in the background. this really is the sun setting on the peaceful universe. just pain and suffering ahead marked with the blood spilled from the two who were meant to produce the messiah but who both got thrown off this path by the greed and selfishness of their forefathers. guys im normal about paul and feyd. definitely. i definitely have very normal thoughts about how they are foils and yet two sides of the same coin. yes guys

paul making the emperor kiss his ring is already such an insane fucking scene and it translated to the screen so well. amazing performances all around

i didnt talk much about florence pugh's irulan but she really didnt have much time to shine. im excited to see where she goes next and i definitely think shes a great fit but i need to see more of her to really be able to say more

i will say this. the way chani, irulan and jessica are the only ones who dont kneel for paul. the three most important women in his life who give him his power, everything he has. jessica made him and she made him the messiah. chani opened her life up to him, helped him become and in turn control the fremen, and she shed her tears for him and fulfilled her role in the prophecy against her wishes. irulan is his path to the throne, his key to being emperor. and none of them bow before him because why would they bow before a power they are responsible for, a power they own, a power they gave?

but for chani its different ofc. she also refuses to bow because she despises everything paul stands for.

oh my god i could say so much about the last scene being chani. not paul reveling in his victory. paul leaves for his next bloodshed and chani is left behind crying for the person she loves who she knows is gone. crying for her people, again enslaved. crying those same tears that brought the messiah back into this world.

theres a lot to be said about the role of gender in dune and how it hangs over every facet of this world but thats a whole separate analysis post to be had so ill just throw it down here in this little point

another thing chani does very well in the movies is she really makes paul's villainy explicitly clear. SO many people read dune and completely misunderstand it and walk away from it concluding its a "white savior narrative" and nothing more which. yes!! yes it is!!!! but thats not a good thing!!!! its never stated to be a good thing!!!!

this movie is not gonna let you misunderstand the message of the story no matter how blind you try to be to it. paul is not a good guy. hes never been the good guy. hes the protagonist, but hes not the hero. and chani allows that to translate from book to movie very well. have i mentioned yet i love movie chani

chani fills in the holes left behind by the narration and internal monologues of the book and, bonus points, she holds the people who dont understand what dune is about by the hand and tells them explicitly "PAUL IS A BAD GUY!!! DONT IDOLIZE PAUL!!!! DONT WALK AWAY FROM DUNE THINKING ITS PRAISING PAUL'S ACTIONS!!!"

i think thats pretty much all i had to say. i might reblog with additions as they hit me but yeah i. i enjoyed the movie. so so much. i think i might watch it again sometime soon while its still in cinemas.

sorry for being unhinged hope u enjoyed my rants. kiss kiss night night <3

#dune #dune part two #dune part 2 #paul atreides #chani kynes #jessica atreides #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #rabban harkonnen #vladimir harkonnen #stilgar #alia atreides #irulan corrino #im so crazy im so feral holy shit #okay im going to bed now #its 1 am lmao #ive been writing these down for like 2 hours since i got back

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futureplayboibunnie · 1 year ago

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lil Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader drabble

Warnings: NSFW, depics of violence, blood, some steamy stuff but not too much, sooo much dirtytalk.

You were many things. But you weren't naive.

That wouldn't be an issue if Miguel couldn't talk his way out of hell and right into those pearly gates. His manipulation and sweet talking were just another thing that made you hate him and attracted to him amongst many other things

He was an asshole. He was a powerful Mob Boss. He was your husband and your arch-nemesis. You both loved playing these little games that would send the other down a spiral of paranoia and obsession- it lit a fire under both of your asses. It made you meaner, sharper, stronger

Miguel told his men to take shots at you, haphazardly, making sure they all missed for the sole purpose of scaring you to make you behave and see how valuable his protection was . You weren’t scared, you were pissed and filled with rage. You blew up one of his lackey’s cars, he watched it burn in front of him, if he had gotten into the wrong black beauty of a Lamborghini, he’d be a pile of ashes.

You both poked and prodded, messed and obsessed with every step you made. It was like a Greek tragedy. You outsmarted him some days. He outsmarted you some days.

But after all of it, you were still married, still husband and wife. When he fell for you, he fell hard. You were the daughter of of one of the most renowned gangster in the country, Miguel had to pay his dues to earn his respect- and in the end it payed off. Your father blessed your marriage and that night was a dream above all dreams. The honeymoon was beautiful too, every night was filled with passionate and messy sex and every day he spent with you he fell more and more in love.

But Lord did you test his patience, it was something that you were born to do. He was angry and channelled his rage through many illegal mediums.

Yet you always let him back in.

You’ve been doing what you’ve been doing for the past few weeks.

Waiting up for Miguel.

Waiting for him to come home.

He said he had something to take care of and hasn’t shown his face since. And here you were, waiting for him like a Park Avenue trophy wife. Your wine was making you more anxious than tipsy as you glared at the clock, the fireplace in front of you not warming your body from this strange fear of a man you hate and love. It was nearing 1am.

Then you heard it, the door opening and closing and the rustling of expensive shoes hitting the marble of the foyer, then a jarring clank of keys hitting the holder.

Your breath got lost in your throat, eyes widening when you saw Miguel’s figure. His white shirt was bloodied and his fists were bruised and raw. It’s not his blood, but he did have a cut on his eyebrow. You scoffed as you stood up from your seat.

But that didn’t stop you from both charging at each other, wanting to see each other up close.

“I hate you.” You said with a scowl but what was it all for when you both embraced each other seconds after.

“I believe you.” He said coldly but he knew you meant it. Your head rested on his shoulder and he could smell the shampoo you used earlier tonight. A sweet orchard, green apple. Yet your sweet scent didn’t transfer to yout personality. You didn’t like to sit still and play house.

You were an antagonizing bitch.

He was a heartless bastard.

Yet here you were.

Hating each other, yet seeking each other’s company.

“I hate you.” You repeated much firmly this time and Miguel gripped onto your cheeks and pulled your face up so he could glare at you.

“I said I believe you…I haven’t believed anyone in a long time.” He muttered, but his tone was harsh. Unamused eyes searched yours for an answer but instead he found contempt and sadness.

“You left for weeks….I hated you every second of it.” You spat out but your words couldn’t be brutal when you were this sad.

Miguel’s grip on your face softened, the pads of his fingertips tracing on the outline of your chin. “Now that I’m back…do you still hate me?” He was asking with genuine concern for some reason.

“Yes.” You whispered but your legs started to tremble as the word rolled off of your tongue. Miguel frowned indignantly and huffed out, taking his turn to pivot the conversation to him just ordering you around again.

“I don’t want you leaving the penthouse. I don’t want you outside while I deal with these bastards-“

Your choked breath cut him off. “Is that all you’re thinking about right now? I can’t fucking believe you.” You scoffed, his gall was truly outstanding, of course he had to do this right now. You weren’t purposefully trying to fan the flames to Miguel’s anger but he wanted to treat it like you were, he was already annoyed for ruining one of his best shirts with the blood of subspecies and now he has to deal with you bitching and moaning…and not in the way he liked. “You know what Miguel-“ He directly stopped your words by gripping onto your waist and neck and sitting you on the dining table. You struggled against his hold but it all proved to be fruitless.

“You’re gawking at me like an idiot right now.” You insulted but he was way too far gone now, the crimson of his eyes migrated to a deep ring of burgundy- he was already pissed and you just had to play with him the wrong way.

“You’re beautiful that’s why.” He said endearingly, like he was cooing at you but his serious expression really contrasted that.

“You’re flattering me because you wanna fuck?”

“You asked me if you staying here is all I’m thinking about right now and in fact, it’s not.” Miguel placed a palm on your chest and pushed you flat onto the table, hard. Your eyes were half lidded weapons, scrutinising his every move- and dare he think, he loves it, because he always proves you wrong.

You were his wife, his bitch, his cumdump. You both may hate each other but you always needed each other in this way.

No one else could make you cum otherwise, no one else memorised your body like he did. How couldn’t he? He loved you…once.

You like to think these outbursts are impactful and grand displays of independence but no, you’re Miguel’s lover and you’re gonna act like it.

Hmm. You always looked so pretty in this silk robe, but the fact that your nipples were peaking already under the thin fabric told him all he needed to know.

“I was thinking of you today when I was killing my competition’s men, while I got blood on my hands.” Miguel’s calloused palms splayed onto your smooth legs, feeling up and down teasingly, riding up your robe. You arched against the table already.

Shit, you didn’t mean to.

“The others said that my mind was wandering. I could see their mouths open and close but I couldn’t hear a single word come out..” He said huskily, you gasped when he ripped open your robe, revealing your naked and beautiful figure under him. The only thing that could ever get him off. He dipped his head between your legs to were your thin barely there panties were, he ran his nose over the fabric and inhaled softly. “I could smell you.”

You blinked up at him in confusion, you didn’t know what to feel. You were mad but so aroused…and in the weeks he’s been gone you hadn’t been able to pleasure yourself at all. He looked vicious and mean, your husband was ruthless and sometimes….sometimes it was so fucking arousing, you couldn’t help but squirm and struggle underneath him.

“You wanna know what I did? You wanna know who the man you married is really like when he’s not at home?” His head raised up to your ear to mumble hotly, you jolted and struggled when his hand suddenly went to your already sticky folds.

You weren’t sure if you even had a choice, so you stayed silent, your expression akin to that of vacant displeasure….but oh, were you lying. Your face was about to break.

“I shot them in the kneecaps and beat them until they were barely breathing, but would you believe the way they died was by suffocation?” He chuckled lowly, his fingers teasing your already sloppy entrance.

“F-fuck…are you talking about?” You tried to fight back the moans collecting in the back of your throat but you couldn’t help it.

“They drowned in a puddle of their own blood and I put them there.” Miguel rasped firmly in your ear, his tone and body language becoming very intimidating and…scary. “The bastard’s blood got on my fucking shoes.”

Your husband only wanted to protect what was his. His fingers plunged inside of you, feeling up and down, circling around. You whined out.

“One of them I knew, he went to my fucking highschool hermosa. I called him my friend. But the worst thing occured to me, I imagined him on top of you, my wife, the woman that loathes me so. I saw him tasting you in my head and that’s what made me kill him. You. Just because you sit up here in this untouchable palace doesn’t mesn you’re any cleaner than I am. You’re just as depraved as I am.”

His eyes were beating with a scorching red, his lips were curled into a visicious snarl and at this moment, you knew he was right and that made you want him that much more.

You were his lover.

He wanted you to act like it.

Even if that meant being exactly like he was.

Heartless.

(I deleted my other mafia Miguel fic because I wasn’t sure if i was gonna make it a bigger fic or not and I felt like if i kept it up it would’ve been confusing or something? I’m playing on the same ideas in this fic dw)

#spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

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blighted-lights · 5 months ago

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The ravage clone 😭 I do imagine soundwave would be overjoyed at first thinking somehow she survived. "I knew lord megatron was wrong, ravage is just built different." Then he'd get pissed as hell at shockwave because that is NOT ravage! (He still takes care of her anyways).

It reminds me of this tiktoker who cloned her cat so she could have another one after the og died and she got pissed because the new cat had a different personality. Yeah they look the same and have the same DNA but they do not have the same memories/experiences!! It will never be 100% an exact clone.

Differences like that would make it bittersweet because soundwave would feed her ravage's favorite food to find out they don't share the same tastes and he'd spiral.

HI YIKES!! (referencing this post here, btw, which you all should look at and send me asks about hehe <3)

and i have to say that everyone who's left tags and comments so far on that post (plus inbox messages, thank you <3) has been FAR kinder in terms of angst levels of this idea than what i originally had planned. soundwave initially does have some vague hope that this ravage is the original ravage when he first meets her, BUT this hope is immediately dashed. he can tell from the start that she isn't the original ravage and shockwave outright admits to her being a clone 😔

shockwave's entire plan with cloning ravage was both as an emotional support to soundwave after they lost the original ravage AND, in true shockwave fashion, a bit of a manipulative move. soundwave's work and self-care have absolutely tanked with the loss of ravage. shockwave figured that bringing her back, or at least some version of her, would make soundwave feel obligated to take care of her- and it does! but to take care of this new ravage, soundwave has to take care of himself as well or he risks not being able to provide her what she needs. soundwave's self care goes back up, he starts working more effectively because he's properly fueled and rested, and shockwave considers it a win!

it's,, not a win tho, because ravage's clone is her own individual person and the pressure of trying to live up to the original ravage is suffocating. and since shockwave is her creator, she prefers being around shockwave over being around soundwave, and it ends up being a Mess™��. this cloned ravage also has very vague imprints of the original ravage's personality traits, but it's So obvious to anyone paying attention that she isn't the original at all.

soundwave also has no idea how to process the existence of this new ravage as she is a clone of one of his closest friends- his oldest friend, really. he's going through a lot of conflicting emotions while grieving- and that's not even going into what the other cassettes are feeling

#ask: disclaimeryikes #blight rambles #transformers #maccadam #maccadams #shockwave #ravage #soundwave #transformers au #i guess? i NEED to figure out an au tag for this #and since its vaguely based on tf idw and g1 #transformers idw #idw tf #g1 tf #g1 transformers #ALSO HI YIKES #i dont think we've ever talked before but hihi i love your art <33 #second chance au

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btsugarush · 2 years ago

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GANGSTA | myg - 001

summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention.

pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader

warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni

word count: 4.2K

You tossed and turned in your bed as the obnoxious sound of banging carries through your apartment. You snatch your pillow from under your head, placing it over your ears in hopes to drown out the sound. Sadly, it helped very little. “Ugh!” You groan, tossing the pillow to the floor in frustration. “GO THE FUCK AWAY!” You shout. The banging abruptly stops, and you sigh in contentment.

Just as you were prepared to close your eyes again, your phone started to ring. You let out a loud whine, deciding to give up on slumber at this point. Looks like resting wasn’t in your favor. You grab your phone from your nightstand, the screen flashing your best friend, Mina’s, contact name. You accept the call, only to be ear assaulted by her shouting from the other side. “OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!”

You pull the phone from your ear, cringing as though she had burst your eardrums. You don’t even dignify her with a response before you end the call. Of course Mina would be the one banging on your door like she’s being chased by a masked killer.

You swing your legs over your mattress, sliding on your house slippers that you kept on standby beside your bed. Purposely procrastinating, you take your delicate time, trying to stretch away your exhaustion. You saunter towards your living room, making no effort to rush and open the door. Mina begins to impatiently bang on the door again. “I’m coming! Geez!” You unlock your door, pulling it open to expose your displeased friend. “Took you long enough.” She simply walks past you, entering your abode without your permission.

You shut your door, looking back at Mina as she takes a seat at your dining table. “What was so important that you had to drive to my place and bang on my door like a lunatic?” You questioned the blonde. She squints her eyes, her mouth dropping in disbelief. “Did you forget we were supposed to go out for lunch today?” She crosses her arms.

“Of course I didn’t forget,” you say, taking a seat in the chair across from her. “I thought we were doing that at like 2:00?”

Mina raises a brow at you. “Um… newsflash, it’s 1:50 right now.”

Your eyes widened. There was no way it was already the evening time. You felt like you had just dozed off in bed not too long ago. You check for the time on your microwave for clarity, pouting when you realize she wasn’t telling a story. “Fuck…” you rub your cheeks with the palm of your hands. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I overslept.”

“It’s fine,” she shrugs. “It’s not too late to still go.”

The two of you weren’t going anywhere exotic for lunch. Just going out for ramen at Makoto. You worked there as a server, so you got a discount on food. Why not take the advantage? Especially since you didn’t make enough money to eat anywhere else, and you’d hate for Mina to have to pay for both of your meals. “What has you so tired anyway?” She asks, pretending like she couldn’t get a clue. “Like you don’t know.” You roll your eyes.

“Ooooh,” she smirks, wiggling her eyebrows. “Did you finally give Kookie the cookie?”

You giggled, shaking your head. You wished that’s how the night went. Although, you still enjoyed yourself because any moment spent with Jungkook was still time well spent. “No, not yet. He hasn’t pursued anything, so I don’t think he’s ready.” You rest your chin into the palm of your hand. “What the hell is he waiting for? Your wedding day?” She turns up her nose.

“I think he’s waiting until we make our relationship official. We’re still just at the talking stage.”

You’ve known Jungkook since high school. He started off as your best friend, next to Mina. He was always there for you, lending you a shoulder to cry on when you were going through a breakup, or listening to you vent. Never did you look at him as a potential romantic partner, or at least, never have you said it out loud. You two didn’t admit your feelings for each other until 3 months ago; now you were trying to see where it goes, and so far it’s been everything you’ve hoped for. Except for the lack of sex, which surprises you to care so much about considering you’ve never had sex with anyone before. Yet, you’ve craved it so much recently.

“Well, he better make things official soon because there is nothing better than sex.” she bit down on her bottom lip, practically drooling as she reminisced about her sexual conquests with her boyfriend, Jin. “Yeah, I bet.” You chuckle. “Don’t get any slob on my table, whore.” You stand up from your seat, figuring that you’ve wasted enough of your lunch time sleeping as it is. You didn’t want to waste anymore of it by gossiping about sex.

You head back to your bedroom, pulling open your wardrobe as you search for something to throw on. Mina follows behind you, plopping down in your bed with a light bounce. “So, is Kookie coming over again tonight?”

“Probably not,” you flip through your clothes like a photo album, taking hangers from the bars to see what looked good on you. “I have work tomorrow, and I cannot risk waking up late again.”

You didn’t have the luxury of being late for work like most folks did. It was hard enough for you to find good paying work since you didn’t finish nursing school like Mina. You want to go back, but you didn’t have the funds to pay for college, and your apartment at the same time. You only made like $15/hr working at Makoto, and your checks from that went to your rent, and other bills. You couldn’t even afford a car. You had to take the bus to travel.

You finalize your outfit choice, going with a mini floral print spaghetti strap dress. “How’re things going with Jin?” You query, undressing yourself before you slip on the red dress. “We’re pretty good, except I feel like he’s hiding something from me. He’s been really anxious lately, but when I ask him about it he says he’s fine,” she shrugs. “I’m trying not to overthink it. Maybe he has a lot on his plate with work and everything. He hasn’t been making any sales in real estate, and is afraid he might be jobless soon.”

“Yikes,” you walk into your bathroom to brush your teeth. “That must be tough on him.” You grab your toothbrush from its holder, taking the tube of toothpaste and squeezing it onto the bristles. “Yeah.” She sighs. You felt for your best friend. Nothing sucks more than watching your significant other go through a rough time, but for Mina it was much worse because she absolutely loved and adored Jin.

You spit and rinsed in the sink, washing your toothbrush off before placing it back in the holder. While the water was still running, you took the opportunity to splash your face with the cooling liquid, making sure to clean away the crust from your eyes. Once you turn off the faucet, you grab a towel from the rack and dry your wet face.

“Are you done yet? No need to get all fancy for some ramen.” Mina complained, which prompted you to roll your eyes. You weren’t even taking that long. You usually take a considerable amount of time getting ready on a regular day. Jungkook could definitely attest to that, seeing as he’s always whining about you ‘taking 40 hours to get ready’.

You grab your white air forces, and a pair of socks from your closet, slipping them on. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”

“Finally.” She jumps up from your mattress. “I’m literally starving. I felt like I could pass out from hunger any second now.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” You grab your purse from your wardrobe, and your cellphone from the nightstand before the two of you make your way back into the living room. You grab your unit keys from the hook by your front door, the two of you heading out. As you were locking the door, your neighbor Hoseok exits out of his apartment. “Ladies,” He smiles, locking his door as well. “Grand rising.”

“Oh, hey, Hoseok. Grand rising to you too,” You return back the smile. “Where’re you headed to today?” You ask, dropping your key into your purse. “Just going to check the mail,” He laughs. “How about you, lovelies?”

“We’re heading to Makoto for lunch.”

Hoseok hums lightly, nodding his head. “Mmm, I love Makoto. Bring me back some rice cakes?”

“Of course.” You giggle.

“You’re a real one.” He lightly pats your shoulder before going on his way. Once he was far enough away, Mina spoke up. “He’s such a weirdo.” She snarls, shaking her head as she watches Hoseok walk down the hall. You shrug. “I think he’s eccentric, but in a good way.”

“Whatever you say. I think he watches you through his peephole when you’re coming or going.” She jokes. “You’re such a bitch.” You chuckle, nudging her with your elbow. As you and Mina walk to the exit of the building, your phone vibrates from the inside of your purse. You pull it out, peering at the contact name. “Kookie cake 🍪🍰”.

You smile upon seeing Jungkook’s contact name, answering quickly before it sends him to voicemail. “Hey.” You greet him giddily. “Hey, beautiful.” You could tell he was smiling on the other end. “What’re you up to?” You ask. Not that you needed to. You could hear the buzzing in the background, which tells you that he’s at work. Jungkook worked at a tattoo parlor as one of the main tattoo artists and piercers there. He usually doesn’t have time to call you when he’s at work, being that he’s always so busy with clients.

“I’m at work,” he lets out a sigh. “One of my clients doesn’t come in until 3:30, so I took this time to hear your angelic voice.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. Mina looked over at you, making kissy faces. You make it outside, the sun blazing down on you. It had to be about 80°C out today. “Well, I’m glad you called. I wanted to tell you that you made me late for my lunch date with Mina today.” You approach the passenger side of Mina’s silver Chevy Cruze, waiting for her to unlock the door. “Oh, you’re blaming me?” Jungkook laughs. “I seem to recall a certain someone begging for me to stay longer.”

“Wow, expose me much?”

Mina unlocks the car, and you pull open the door before climbing inside. She starts up the engine, looking over at you. “Alright, lovebirds. Talk to each other later, I want to play music.” You roll your eyes. She wouldn’t be saying that if it was her on the phone talking to Jin. “I guess I have to get off the phone, Mina’s being a hater since she’s not on the phone with her man.”

She throws a glare your way, childishly sticking her tongue out at you. “Alright, Angel. Call me later?”

“You know I will.” You say your goodbyes, then end the call. “Thank you.” Mina turns on her radio, turning the volume to the highest it could go. The drive to Makoto wasn’t a long drive. From your apartment it was about 8 minutes away. You usually had to take the bus there on scheduled work days as the walk took an hour or so.

“Hope we find a table, it looks crowded today.” Mina makes the observation, seeing that the restaurant’s parking spaces were nearly full. “They usually are on Friday.” You inform her. You’ve worked plenty of Fridays to know. Mina manages to locate a parking spot not too far from the entrance, and pulls into it. “I can’t wait to stuff my face with dumplings.” Mina licked her lips like an animal deprived of food.

“Their dumplings aren’t that good.” You shake your head. Maybe you only felt that way because you worked here, and are constantly having Mr. Kim make you dumplings. After a while they started to make you sick. The bell rings as you two walk through the entrance. “Hey, Jimin.” You greet your co-worker as he’s taking a customer’s order. “Hey, Y/N. Are you here to help out today?” He peers over at you with a smile.

“As if. I’m going to enjoy my day off while I can,” you laugh. “Any tables left?” You ask, looking around. The restaurant was crowded just as Mina thought. “Yeah, we’ve got one more table left. You’re lucky.” After he finishes up taking orders, he leads the way to an empty table. You and Mina take a seat, and Jimin flips to a blank page on his notepad. “I’m guessing you girls already know what you want?”

Mina piped up immediately, already making up her mind before you got there. “Dumplings.” Jimin scribbled down her order. “Anything to drink?” He asks. “Water will do.” Jimin nods, looking over at you. “Let me guess, dumplings for you too?”

“Wrong. I'm not a total cliché. I’m getting Hakodate ramen.”

Jimin smirked, taking down your order. “Anything to drink?” He scribbles something else down in the notepad. “I’ll take a water too.” Jimin flips the notepad your way, showing you that he had already written it down. “Guess you are a total cliché.” You roll your eyes, waving him off. “Just go put in our orders.”

He chuckles, leaving your table to head back into the kitchen. “He seriously wants to fuck you.” Mina blurted. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head at the unexpected assumption. “Don’t be ridiculous, he knows I’m seeing Jungkook.”

“What’s your point? Guys don’t care if you have a man or not. If you gave him an opening he’d take it in a heartbeat. Trust me.” she whispers as she notices Jimin walking back over with your waters. He sat the glasses down on the table, then pulled out a pair of red chopsticks for the both of you to take. “Your food won’t take too long, I’ll be back with it shortly.” He smiles down at you before walking back to the kitchen. Mina stares at him as he walks away, a grin on her face. “If I were you, I’d fuck him.”

“Not a chance. I care about Jungkook way too much.”

“That’s cute and all, but you need to burst that cherry at some point, and Jungkook is taking his sweet time.” She takes a sip of her water. You didn’t see what was so wrong with that. Most women would find it attractive to know a guy is taking his time with sex. You did. It showed that he didn’t just see you as a sexual object. As much as you wanted to lose your virginity, you respected him for wanting to wait. It honestly made you feel more important to him. You knew you weren’t going to be Jungkook’s first–you weren’t even going to be his second or third, but for some reason it brought you comfort knowing he valued you enough to take it slow unlike he did with other girls.

Jimin comes back to the table with your food in hand, handing Mina her dumplings, then sitting your ramen in front of you. “Here you go, ladies.”

“Thanks, Jiminie.” You grab your chopsticks, pulling them apart. “No problem. Enjoy–” Jimin is cut off by the bell of the entrance door ringing. His expression suddenly looks distressed, and sickly. “Uh…. are you okay?” You ask, following his gaze towards the entrance. When you look to see what caught his attention, your eyes are fixed on a group of men standing there. You noticed that the entire restaurant seemed to quiet down upon these men's arrival, the atmosphere not as family friendly as before. Some of the people whisper amongst themselves, not daring to speak aloud.

“Can we get some fuckin’ service around here?” A taller guy within the group calls out, staring directly at Jimin. Jimin sighs, walking over to the flock of degenerates. You turn to look at Mina, her face was just as confused. “Am I missing something, who are these guys?” You whisper to her. “I don’t know, but they’re giving off some bad energy. Let’s hurry and eat so we can go.”

“I’m sorry, but we’re out of tables right now. The wait time is going to be about 30 minutes.” Jimin explains to the men, but they clearly aren’t having it. “Why wait when we can find a table for ourselves right now?” The lanky man snarls, shoving Jimin out of the way as they stride through the restaurant anyway, laughing as Jimin seemed to freeze up instead of stopping them. The group of men are looking at tables, as though they’re shopping for who’s they’re going to take. People turn their heads, trying to avoid eye contact as they do so.

They end up stopping in front of an elderly couple, and the taller one speaks again. He must’ve been the leader of the group, with the way he seemed to take charge. “You’re being booted, oldheads. Give us your table.” The older woman looks towards her husband, awaiting for him to speak up. “You should learn to respect your elders, young man. We’re still eating here.”

The group of men snickered, clearly not giving a damn about respect of any kind. “You think we give a fuck? Get up, or we’ll make you get up.” Your eyebrows furrow, the threat not sitting right with you. Mina notices your expression, knowing it all too well. “Don’t you dare say anything. Stay out of it.” She warns, not wanting the attention of these men on you. One thing about you is that you didn’t take too well to bullying. You were always standing up for people, and judging by the fear oozing off of everyone at the restaurant, you’re the only one that was willing to do it. Even Mina was scared.

The elderly couple ignored the group, clearly having no self awareness about the potential danger of the situation. The lanky guy shares a look with a raven haired man, almost like they were speaking to each other telepathically. “Handle it.” The raven commands the taller one. Those two simple words were all he needed to hear as he snatched the elderly woman from the table, prompting the older woman to scream out. “Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Her husband shouts. “I told you to get the fuck up or we were going to move you.”

You noticed that everyone looked mortified by the ordeal, but still made no effort to help. Who were these guys that made everyone here too terrified to even speak? “Let go, you’re hurting me!” The older woman cries out. You couldn’t take the sight anymore, you refused to cower and watch these men harass the elderly like everyone else; you slam your hand on your table, taking a stand. “Why don’t you assholes just leave them the fuck alone?” Your outburst catches the eyes of everyone in the restaurant, some shaking their head at you like you were a fool. Mina slides down in her seat, wishing she could hide from this confrontation.

“Mind your fuckin’ business, bitch.” The lanky man spat, glaring at you like you were insane to be talking to them like that. “This just became my business, so how about you just walk the fuck out of here and find a different place to eat.” You snap back at him, your glare just as vicious. You were probably making a mistake by opening your mouth, seeing as you were heavily outnumbered, but you couldn’t turn back now. “How about we take your table then?” Mina is quietly whispering ‘no, no, no’, hoping that it didn’t come down to that. You knew she was going to be unbelievably pissed at you if it did.

“Try and take my table.” You challenge him.

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back; the man shoves the older woman back into her seat before he stalks over to your table. The way he’s approaching you looks so threatening, and you feel that you have no choice but to defend yourself. You grab your chopsticks from the table, tightly gripping the wooden sticks in your hand as you brace yourself for a showdown. “Joon,” the lanky man halts in place just as he’s about to grab you, and looks back at his posse. “Head outside and take a breather.” The raven speaks calmly.

Joon pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, not even bothering to argue back with the order given to him. He looks at you with an evil glower and points his slim finger in your face. “You just lucked out, bitch.” He storms out of the restaurant, the bell dinging as he exits. You’re still holding the chopsticks as the raven now approaches you, his hands in the pockets of the green letterman jacket he adorned. The way he commanded the Joon guy told you well enough that he was the one in charge. “I apologize on behalf of my friend there. He was a little out of line,”

‘A little??’

Even though this man was apologizing to you, there was something about him that sent chills down your spine. The way he looked into your eyes felt like he was trying to take your soul. He had eyes like the devil. They were dark, cold, lifeless even. He actually intimidated you more than the tall one, which you felt showed through the way your legs quivered like they were about to give out at any second. He looked so cool and collected, the disturbance he and his crew caused having no effect on him. It was like he worried about nothing, and feared no one. His eyes shift from you, to the chopsticks in your hand. “Were you planning on stabbing my friend with those?”

You look down at the chopsticks as well. “If… if I had to.” You answer truthfully, swallowing the lump in the back of your throat. The raven smirks, running his tongue across his bottom lip as if the thought turned him on. “You’re brave,” his eyes roam your body in an uncomfortable, predatory kind of way. “I like you.”

Those were the last words he spoke to you before turning away, deciding to leave the restaurant like you requested them to do. He jerks his head towards the exit, signifying for his crew to follow him out. You wait for them to fully depart before you drop your chopsticks to the floor and collapse back into your seat. Your heart was beating so fast, you really were doubting your decision, not knowing how it would’ve turned out. Jimin runs to your aid, finally doing something useful after letting those guys punk him.

“Are you okay?” He asks. You simply nod, not having the words to speak. “Who the fuck were those guys?” Mina spoke up after also leaving you to basically battle alone. “Trouble, and I can’t believe Y/N just stood up to them like that. Those guys are dangerous, I don’t even know how you’re still breathing after talking to them the way you did,” Jimin shakes his head in wariness. “The tall guy with the big mouth was Kim Nam-Joon, and the nonchalant one was Min Yoongi. Some people call him Agust D. He’s the one in charge, if you didn’t notice. I’ve heard horror stories about that guy, like that he stabbed a dude in the neck with chopsticks and killed him,”

You snap your head up at him, your eyes wide. ‘He killed someone with chopsticks?’ Were you really in the face of a serious threat? You could tell that those guys weren’t like normal bullies you’ve stepped to, but you never imagined them being notorious enough to have heinous stories told about them. “I really can’t believe that you survived that.” Jimin repeats again, making you sick to your stomach. “Okay, you’re not helping. At least she did something, unlike you.” Mina snapped. Jimin threw his hands up in defense. “Hey, I’m a man. I might have not been so lucky if I pulled what Y/N did. The only reason she got out of that situation unscathed is because she’s an attractive girl.”

“Can we please get the check?” Someone calls from a different table, catching Jimin’s attention.“Be right there.” He squeezes your shoulder in a comforting way before leaving you alone to get back to his scheduled work. You sat in silence, your appetite lost. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Mina pressed. You nod again, reassuring her. You’re alive, right? Why wouldn’t you be? “What we should take from this situation is… I told you not to get involved.” You whipped your head in her direction, your mouth gaped at her insensitivity. She shrugs, taking a sip of her water.

“Excuse me?” You look to see the older woman and her husband walking towards you. “Yes?” You smile at the couple, taking solace in knowing that you risked your safety for them and that they were okay in the end. “We want to say thank you for standing up for us,” The older woman reaches out, taking your hands in hers. “Thank you so much.”

“It was no problem,” You lightly squeezed her hands. “I’d do it again.”

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gallifreyanhotfive · 7 months ago

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Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 50: 50 Facts for 50 Parts

How the hell did I get to part 50?!?!?! This is insanity.

The Eleventh Doctor once got hit with an electromagnetic pulse that left him needing to rebuild his mind, during which time he lived as Mr. Foreman. Valarie would sell her cybernetic enhancements to Mr. Foreman in exchange for money and the chance to check on the TARDIS, often telling him stories about the Doctor as she did so. Mr. Foreman used so many of her enhancements that she lost herself. (Audio: Curiosity Shop)

The Fifth Doctor has been tied up in strappado before. (Audio: The Church and the Crown)

The Ninth Doctor has lost or forgotten the ability to play the spoons. (Audio: Station to Station)

Aspirin is fatal to Time Lords. (Novel: The Left-Handed Hummingbird; Burning Heart; Audio: The Condemned)

The Brigadier lost his virginity as a Second Lieutenant when he was 21 years old. (Novel: Deadly Reunion)

The Thirteenth Doctor has introduced herself as "Sarah Jane Smith" before. (Short story: Mission of the KaaDok)

The Third Doctor was able to sense that he was near the end of his life before being irradiated. (Audio: The Children of the Future)

Mozart got cloned in the future many times because they were inspired by his creativity. This made one clone travel to the past to make Mozart immortal with the intention of draining him of that creativity, which would make sure those clones were never made. The Sixth Doctor traveled to Mozart's deathbed to convince him not to trust the clone, and Mozart eventually dies very confused by what was going on. (Audio: My Own Private Wolfgang)

Ace once tried to use the Seventh Doctor's "look me in the eye, pull the trigger" manipulation tactics, but because she's not a hypnotist or psychic like him, she ends up shot anyway. (Audio: The Fearmonger)

Hannah Bartholomew stowed away on the TARDIS, looking for an adventure. She ended up being instrumental in saving the day on the God-King's Tomb Ship and joined Nyssa and the Fifth Doctor more officially. (Audio: Tomb Ship)

Iris Wildthyme has her own version of the Valeyard called Bianca. She rebuilt her TARDIS as a nightclub and tried to steal Iris's regenerations. (Audio: The Wormery)

The Thirteenth Doctor and the Master, locked together in a psychic link, once talked about their issues. They talked about their pasts, but the Master refused to tell her about the "mystery" he was keeping from her. (Short story: The Doctor vs the Master)

After being irradiated, the Third Doctor wandered the time vortex for an entire decade, his body breaking down the entire time. It got to a point where he could not reach the console and was left drifting until the TARDIS finally landed herself. (Novel/Audio: Love and War)

The Thirteenth Doctor once tried to celebrate Yaz's birthday with a tea party in Boston, 1773. (Comic: The Forest Bride)

The Eighth Doctor was separated into his three different sides once. One side was sensible. The other was quite bouncy and excitable, and it was a wonder he didn't get killed while being distracted by something. The third side was incredibly nasty and could be quite violent without the other two sides there to balance him out. (Audio: Caerdroia)

The Fifth Doctor is so good with a bow and arrow that he could shoot an arrow with a piece of parchment attached to it through a window in a tower and snuff out the flame of the candle he was aiming at. (Audio: Son of the Dragon)

The Ninth Doctor once invited a woman named Adriana to travel with him in the TARDIS, only for her to almost immediately die. (Audio: The Bleeding Heart)

When taking into account the battered appearance of his TARDIS console, the Second Doctor realized that the Time Lords had been sending him on missions for a long time, using him as a pawn. Unfortunately, every time he realized this, they erased his memory. (Short story: Save Yourself)

The Twelfth Doctor recalled pulling the Sword from the Stone, becoming King of England for a day, and then abdicating to King Arthur. (Novel: Silhouette)

The Eleventh Doctor used the alias Jean Valjean to infiltrate Alcatraz. (Comic: Escape into Alcatrax)

The Toymaker once turned the Eighth Doctor into a ventriloquist's doll, and he was unable to move or speak unless Charley was holding him. When he did speak, he would shout and protest desperately against the situation. (Audio: Solitaire)

About six hours after the events of The Tomb of the Cybermen, Captain Hopper and his crew ran into the Fifth Doctor, Tegan, and Nyssa, and Hopper was killed by two cyber-converted crewmembers. (Audio: Secrets of Telos)

The Third Doctor became a British citizen at some point. (Audio: The Doll of Death)

After leaving the Eighth Doctor, Zagreus became Perfection, who was a huge flirt towards the Doctor. (Audio: The Next Life)

William Shakespeare once spiked the Fifth Doctor's drink with ginger, leading to the predictable drunken effects. (Audio: The Kingmaker)

The Thirteenth Doctor also really likes ginger nuts, garibaldis, and fig rolls and gets them from the biscuit dispenser in her TARDIS. (Comic: The Forest Bride)

The Sixth Doctor considers Braxiatel condescending and doesn't really like him, but he still trusts him. (Audio: The 100 Days of the Doctor)

When the Fifth Doctor was stabbed in the chest, he was able to survive due to his characteristic heart anatomy, but he was still out for the count for a while. (Audio: Son of the Dragon)

The Sixth Doctor had been known to play with swivel chairs, even going "wheeeee!" while gliding around in them. (Audio: The Sandman)

The Ninth Doctor used his sonic screwdriver to seal the Compassionate away in the rift. He also rigged the sonic to explode. However, this sonic screwdriver was the model commonly used by the War Doctor, not the one from the first series of nuwho. (Audio: The Bleeding Heart)

The Twelfth Doctor thought he might regenerate when he was infected with the Venusian flu, but he also worried that the flu would take such a toll on him that he wouldn't be able to regenerate. (Audio: The Lost Flame)

Kwundaar looks so terrifying that the Doctor screamed after merely looking at him. (Audio: Primeval)

Erimem - a companion of the Fifth Doctor - brought her cat Antranak on board the TARDIS, whom the Doctor despised. There were several reasons for this, including that the Doctor was occasionally unable to set the controls because Antranak was lying on top of them. (Audio: The Church and the Crown)

C'rizz's father almost drowned him once as punishment for deviating from the Church of the Foundation. (Audio: The Next Life)

The Twelfth Doctor's sonic sunglasses have a Telepathic Emergency Beacon, which allows him to take control of another person's body. (Short story: My Dad, The Doctor)

There was a murderer in a place called the Needle, which should be impossible since everyone there has a chip inside of them stopping them from being violent. This killer traveled from person to person, something referred to as "redlining." The Seventh Doctor immediately redlined after being chipped. This whole situation began because a time traveller came to the needle, and the time travel mechanism was organic and a part of her, which made the computer go mad. The Doctor was drawn there and was sensitive to redlining due to his time sensitive nature and his biology. (Audio: Red)

Simon and Joanne, two characters in Lant Land, thought that Tegan and Turlough's names were unbelievable and proposed they change them to Yvonne and Derek. (Audio: Lant Land)

The Eleventh Doctor once gave the name Colonel Lethbridge-Stewart as a pseudonym. (Novel: Shroud of Sorrow)

Gemma, one of the Eighth Doctor’s companions, has called him Dad before, but the Doctor preferred to be called a cool uncle. (Audio: Terror Firma)

Turlough hates the cold and will complain if put in it. (Audio: Singularity)

The Sixth Doctor and Evelyn once thought they had accidentally cockblocked Julius Caesar's parents on the night of his conception. This meant that instead a baby girl named Julia was born, which Evelyn thought would be a brilliant chance to revolutionize the world. She kept trying to stop the Doctor from convincing Julius Caesar Sr. and Aurelia from hooking up at the proper time. Eventually, the two realize that 101 BC is before 100 BC and that they were doing this for no reason at all. (Audio: 100 BC)

The Spriggan was an alternate universe version of the Doctor, who terrorized a planet and used their youth to power his TARDIS. He even created an new Leela, but she fought him to protect the Tenth Doctor and threw him into the vortex. (Audio: Splinters)

The Galyari are a species of 8-foot tall reptiles that had extraordinary eyesight. Because of their exceptional vision, they found the Sixth Doctor to be literally painful to look at because of his coat. They were afraid of him and called him "the Sandman." (Audio: The Sandman)

The Tenth Doctor referred to the Seventh as the mysterious and manipulative type, the sort of rebellious phase someone goes through when they turn 1000 years old. (Novel: Legends of Camelot)

Joshua Douglas was a companion of the Third Doctor but stopped traveling with him after a disagreement. He was later killed while with the Fourth Doctor and Leela. (Audio: The Catalyst)

Mandy Litherland was incredibly fond of and sweet on the Ninth Doctor. After traveling to the past, she kissed the Doctor. The Doctor almost invited her to travel with him but didn't because he knew she probably wouldn't accept. (Audio: Auld Lang Syne)

Sometimes, when the Sixth Doctor is distressed and going off the deep end of his emotions, he has been known to break down in Evelyn's presence and cuddle with her. (Audio: Arrangements for War)

The Veil left the Twelfth Doctor a spade made of duralinum and a dwarf star alloy, which would have been strong enough to break the azbantium wall. The Doctor was wary of it, assuming it was a trap, and he used his fists on the wall instead. (Short story: The Veil)

Missy once saved the life of a young girl whose sister had asked her for help. She had stopped to rescue the child stuck high up while being chased by an assassin, without further witness, and without reward. The Doctor does not know of this. (Audio: The Chaos Cascade)

A young version of the Fifth Doctor post-Four to Doomsday once got displaced in time. Experiencing time slippage, he swapped places with his future selves and learned that Adric had died far too early. Eventually, he ended up in the body of an Auton duplicate the Master had made of the Doctor. He eventually faded away and died as the time slippage unraveled his past and his memories to an extent where he was running on his most basic desire: to save Adric. He had been convinced that if he was put back in his own time he could save him, and for that reason, the older Fifth Doctor refused to return him. (Audio: The Auton Infinity)

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last-starry-sky · 9 months ago

Text

too sweet pt 2 - innocent!reader x graves

(because @shotmrmiller's prompt continues to rot my brain. also: pov change? pov change.)

NSFW - MDNI - MIND THE WARNINGS: (graves pov, big ol’ legal age gap, MANIPULATIVE bad man graves, i gave him a made up middle initial lol, corruption kink, dubcon(kissing and touching while reader is drunk, no sex in this part))

pt 1 here

There’s a silver cross hanging temptingly above your breasts when he picks you up.

You look so cute standing there on your porch, fiddling with your hair and dress, dropping your keys into your little matching purse. A sweet little peach that his mouth waters to bite into. Not yet though, he thinks as he turns off his truck. He opens the door, slamming it shut behind him. He knows that’ll catch your attention. As he rounds the hood he sees you staring at him, still wide eyed (excited, not nervous anymore) after all this time.

Not yet, he thinks walking through the fresh-mowed grass of your front lawn. He’s patient. He can wait; wait for you to want him as much as he wants you. Hell, maybe you’ll even ask for it, beg for it. He bites his lip thinking about what a pretty sight that would be. He smothers the thought as he nears the front porch.

“Waitin’ outside for me all alone, darlin’?” he says, watching you mess with your hair again. He’s trying not to let the lewd thoughts creep in, but you aren’t making it easy.

“Um, yeah,” you say softly, “Didn’t want to forget to lock the door.”

He quirks an eyebrow and leans against one of the posts that flanks the porch steps. So cool. Such a good actor.

“Doesn’t your dad usually-”

“He’s gone,” you ramble out, “Both of them. My parents. They, ah, went up to the lake for the weekend.”

You toy with the hem of your skirt again, not making eye contact. The old wood under your heels creaks as you rock back and forth. He cocks his head to the side, giving a gentle hum of acknowledgement. Nothing too eager or expecting, but enough to let you know he’s heard you.

He already knew where your parents were, of course. It was nothing anyone couldn’t gather from a little social media stalking, and he has plenty of time. Didn’t help that your mother posted just about everything on there. With pictures too. That’s how he knew that they had left mid-day, got there two hours later, and that now your mother was three margaritas deep and your father was working his way through a thirty pack with his fishing buddies in the middle of the lake.

“Hope y’all weren’t waiting for long,” he said with a smile, finally holding out his arm in expectation of a hug.

You smiled as you bounced into his arms. You melted into him, all stiffness and anxiety leaving once you were safe in his arms. You liked it when he greeted you like this. The tiny bit of chaste intimacy of it. He loved feeling you wrap your arms around him, bury your face in his chest and not-so-discreetly smell his cologne. It wasn’t all one sided, of course. He loved sliding his hand across your back, pulling you close enough to let him press his face into your hair.

Usually the moment only lasts a second, with one of your parents stepping outside to break the spell, telling you (him) to not stay out too late (like it mattered, they would be dead asleep long before you returned anyway), before he was chastely taking your hand or, more recently, leading you away with a hand on the small of your back.

Tonight’s hug was different. You pressed your whole body into him. He could have groaned at it; the feel your breasts and stomach squishing against his chest, your hips slotting against his. Fuck, you could be such a tease sometimes and you didn’t even know it. It was enough to take down a lesser man, but Commander Phillip A. Graves wasn’t some horny teenager that’s going to pop a boner the second a pretty girl touches him. Not that you made it easy. Lord, the depraved things he thought of doing with you when he was alone.

You leaned back in his arms, looking up at him so open and sweet with that pleased smile on your face. He can’t help but return with one of his own. You’re just too much sometimes. It takes a lot to not stare down your dress at your tits. Instead, he looks at your necklace. The delicate, silver thing dances in the porch light. He ran his fingers along the chain, stroking at your neck as he did, the roughness making you blush.

“Haven’t seen this before,” he said slyly, tugging at the chain. “New?”

You shook your head, bottom lip caught in your teeth. “My mom’s. Family heirloom,” you said softly.

“Looks pretty on ya, sweets,” he said letting it fall back into the crease of your neck.

Your skin is dewy, glistening with sweat. You have to move the chain back into place from where it sticks. Funny that. It’s not even that hot today.

He pulls away, hand still on your lower back. “Should get on our way, then,” he says with a shake of his head back toward the truck. “Reservation’s in half n’ hour. Can’t be late for our anniversary dinner now.”

The whole of your anniversary date plans were a closely held secret. He’d told you the date but hadn't let you pry a single detail out of him. He’d planned everything out the night he saw your mom RSVP to the weekend at the lake. Found a romantic little restaurant, scheduled a reservation to fit with a showtime to that movie you’ve been talking about, even bought that cute little dress for you.

It was all worth it to see you now, after enduring your sad, silent pouts. Your eyes were as big as saucers from the second you walked in. This was clearly the most expensive restaurant you’ve ever been in, if he could read how hard you clung to his arm, nails digging through his suit jacket, as the hostess seated you. You trembled as you waited for him to pull out your chair in the dark alcove he’d asked for. After the hostess had left you with the menus you looked at him nervously.

“Som’ wrong, sweets?”

“Just . . .” you whispered, looking around nervously. The candlelight illuminated the underside of your face, highlighting your concern. “I hope I’m dressed nice enough. Didn’t know this place would be so fancy.”

It actually hurts him how much you doubt yourself. As if anyone could (or even would with him by your side) take issue with you. No one can compare to you. Not in his eyes. Your fresh face and simple beauty blew everyone else in the room out of the water.

“Prettiest one here. Besides, only the best for my girl.”

The waitress returned shortly after, taking your drink order. He surprised you again by ordering a whole bottle of champagne. For the table, he explained; for the both of you, for your anniversary.

“But . . . I don’t drink, Phil,” you whispered across the table once the waitress had left, the cork popped and two glasses already poured.

Good lord, he thought, doesn’t even drink. What part of heaven did you fall from?

“Take a sip,” he urged, “If y’ don’t like it I’ll finish yer glass.”

You slid the flute slowly toward yourself, the pale yellow liquid fizzing streams of large bubbles up the sides. You were about to take a sip, when he interrupted you by reaching across the table with his own glass. You blushed again as you clinked your glass with his.

“To . . . our future,” he said after a moment's thought.

“To our future,” you repeated softly, that small smile returning to your face.

He kept his eyes on you as you delicately sipped the smallest bit of champagne. It took a lot to not drain his own flute. It was damn good, lightly sweet and pleasantly bubbly. Not his usual but worth it to get you to loosen up. For how expensive it was, it had better be amazing. Your eyes met his after you set your glass on the table, imprint of your lipstick marring the rim.

“What’d y’ think?”

“I like it. ‘s sweet,” you said sliding the glass back toward you, dabbing your spot of missing lipstick.

He couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. One sip and you were already hooked.

“Lemme know when an’ I’ll refill y’ glass,” he said scanning over the menu, trying to seem disinterested.

He watched you out of the corner of his eye take another small sip. Then another, and another and another until it was half gone. He had fun making small talk about your family and plans for college in the fall in between your sips. You had just started to broach into his plans: when he would be away for work and where he would be, when the waitress returned to take your dinner order. You sheepishly pushed your empty flute toward him.

He gave his order but once the waitress turned to you, you had to admit that you hadn’t even looked at the menu.

“Well . . .” the waitress said, pencil to her lip, thinking of something to suggest.

“What do you recommend with the champagne?” he interjected, handing over his menu. “She really likes it.”

“Do you like fish?” she said taking the menu out of his hand then turning back to you. You nodded. “We have a white wine and rosemary poached cod filet with a spring salad on the menu tonight.”

“Sounds delicious. I’ll do that. Thank you,” you said handing over your menu.

Three glasses later, your meals arrived. You were more open and flirty now, and hungry. You did well holding yourself back from plowing straight through your fish. He fed you bits of his steak in between your own food to take the edge off your drunken appetite. Not that it helped much. Once you’d cleared your own plate he started giving your every other piece off his plate. You held up well until he’d reached the middle of his steak. You grimaced with the next bite, washing the pink beef down with another long drink from your glass.

“W’as wrong? Don’t like it?” he questioned.

You shook your head. “It’s raw. Not used to how . . .” you stopped to swallow, “. . . spongy it is?”

He chuckled, cutting another slice of meat, enjoying watching the red juices spill out over the white plate. Old habits, he thought.

“Can’t waste a good piece’a beef now by cookin’ all the flavor out,” he said with a laugh as he bit the chunk of meat off of his fork, teeth bared in a true, wolfish grin. And oh, did he feel like a wolf tonight.

“Sorry,” you apologized, flustered, followed by another sip. As if you were in danger of wounding his pride. “I’m just used to how my parents cook. They like everything well-done.”

The waitress appeared again before he could respond.

“Have you two thought about any dessert for tonight?”

He watched you look excitedly back and forth from him to the waitress, almost vibrating in your chair. He took a wild guess that, yes, you did want dessert.

“Depends,” he said sitting back cooly, grin still not faded from his face, “What cha’ got?”

“We have cheesecake: either plain or strawberry, and a triple chocolate cake.”

You let a soft “oh” fall out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. You clasped your hands over your mouth when you realized. Both he and the waitress had a short laugh at your expense.

“Chocolate lover?” she questioned. You nodded eagerly, the bottom of your face still hidden in your hands. “Then you’ll love it.” she said to you before turning to him. “Let me guess: one piece two forks?”

“Sounds perfect.”

He promised to “help” you with the cake once all three towering layers of it arrived, but he mostly busied himself with slowly sorting out the bill. He was content to let you enjoy your treat on your own, but you insisted on repaying his earlier kindness by feeding him a forkful across the table. He gave you credit where it was due, you made it almost all the way on your own. He only had to grab your hand to correct your aim in the last couple inches. He didn’t let you break eye contact then, either. He let you pull away, back to your chair, to blush as he chewed the little bite, wiping a smear of chocolate sauce from the corner of his mouth.

He was clean when the waitress came back with the receipt.

Like a true gentleman, he pulled out your chair for you when it was time to leave. He watched you stand up slowly, swaying slightly on your heels as you adjusted your purse and smoothed the back of your dress. That might be a problem. He didn’t need you falling on your face because he got you too drunk on your first nice date. He smoothly threaded his arm around your waist after you’d ambled around your chair. You looked up at him with surprise as he gave your hip a squeeze.

“Doin’ okay, darlin’?” he asked as he slowly lead you toward the door.

You nodded up at him, eyes still wide and almost teary. “Yeah just a little . . . dizzy.”

“Lean on me if y’ need,” he told you softly as he pushed open the restaurant’s front door for you.

It had rained while you were inside. The storm had passed, thankfully, but it left the sidewalk wet and the night sky covered in dark clouds. Not a single star peaked through. He felt you wrap your arm around his waist, a shiver racking your frame as you huddled against him.

“Cold?”

You nodded pathetically into his side. He pulled out of your grasp for a moment to shrug off his jacket. It wasn’t much, but it would cover you better than your little dress. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you shivered harder, all alone and cold in the night air. A sick part of him almost liked how weak you looked now. Almost.

“Here,” he said throwing it over your shoulders. “Better?”

You didn’t answer, only nodded again. You reached out the front to hold his hands as he closed the lapels around you. You breathed out a cloud of warm air as you stepped up to him. He swore that moment spun by for an age, your every action taking longer than the next. Maybe he just wanted to sear your every move into his memory. The way you pressed your hands to his ribs, feeling the small stutter in his usually tempered breaths. How he loosely held your arms, strong fingers urging you to draw further and further forward. You reached up and grabbed his tie, tugging his face gently down.

He knew what you wanted, but he was going to play gentle until you either begged for it or he broke. Whichever came first. He stopped his face a teasing inch away from yours. You breathed another hot, champagne-sweet breath across his lips. He closed his arms around you, caging you in, running his hands down your spine to the small of your back. Your lips were so glossy in the streetlight, begging to be-

“Phil,” you whined, interrupting his thought, “kiss me, please.”

Well shit, he thought, if you were going to be so polite.

It wasn’t much of kiss, if he was being honest. He let you lead, only leaning down that last, lonely inch, so that you could press a peck to his lips. You pulled away right after, shy and surprised. You just stood there in his arms, waiting for him to do something, assuming the worst.

“Phil?” you asked nervously, trying to step away. “Did I do something wrong? . . . I’m sorry-”

Wrong? Oh honey. You’d done nothing wrong. Opened the gates and let the predator in, yes, but you know what you’ve done, right? You’ve been walking this path since that night at the bonfire. His sweet little thing, caught in his snare.

He smirked. All he had wanted was for you to kiss him first. To initiate. To remember everything this way, even in your hazy, drunk memories. It would be easier this way. You were always such a good girl, doing what he needed you to do with just a bit of a push.

He pulled you back into him and slotted his lips over yours before you could react. He squeezed your hip, earning him a gasp, as he worked a line of kisses over your bottom lip. The heavy, oily taste of your lipstick filled his mouth. You groaned into his lips when he caressed your cheek with his other hand.

“Shit, yeah, baby. I’ll kiss ya,” he groaned, pulling apart just enough to speak before diving forward again.

You were melting against his hands, letting him kiss you as much as he wanted in the middle of downtown. It was a good thing that the rain had driven most of the usual crowd indoors. He thinks you would have rather died than face people on the street after they’d heard your audible whine as he tested your top lip with his teeth a bit too hard. He let you step out of his embrace after that, laughing it off. You were so cute when you were embarrassed; cheeks flushing pink and eyes glassy, lips kiss-bitten. He could just eat you up.

He pulled you close to him again by your shoulder as he urged you to continue your walk down the sidewalk. You acquiesced, leaning into the side of his chest with a sigh as you fell in stride with him.

“Only a little farther walk t’ the truck,” he said rubbing your shoulder to try and keep you warm. “Then we gotta hurry up to the movie.”

“Okay,” you said quietly, falling into your usual mode of silence and thought for the rest of the walk.

Your feet were sore by the time you got to the truck, so he lifted you up into your seat before climbing into his place on the drivers side. It had started raining again, too. He turned on the truck to get the heat rolling. He was buckled in and ready to pull out when he turned to you. He noticed you hadn’t buckled yourself in or turned the vents to face you like you usually did. You just sat, engulfed almost entirely in your seat, quietly twirling your necklace and watching rain hit the windshield.

“Darlin’?” he asked, flipping the middle console back so he could lean over to squeeze your knee.

That broke you out of your spell. You looked at him across the cab with those big eyes, tears about ready to spill over. The necklace sparkled in the overhead light once before you dropped it against your chest. With a wave and a soft “Come ‘ere,” you launch yourself against his side. Once you were back in his arms he petted down your back and held you as close as he could manage with your limbs awkwardly crumpled as they were.

“What’s wrong, sweetpea? Tell me what’s wrong. I’ll fix it. I promise,” he whispered honey-sweet into your hair as you sighed and shook against him. He managed to pull your legs over his lap so that your knees weren’t digging into his kidney and your heels into his leather seats.

“Won’t be mad?” you piped, almost inaudible from how much you were pushed into his shirt.

“‘course I won’t.” What could he have to be mad about?

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You sighed a long sigh, pulling yourself out of his dress shirt enough to look up at his gentle, smirking face. He followed your eyes when you looked down. Oh. His hand has been stroking from your knee to thigh, stopping at the hem of your dress. He was just trying to calm you. Honestly. He assumed his handsy behavior was bothering you. He was about to pull his hand away when you placed your hand on his.

Oh.

You pulled his hand down your leg until it was at the edge of your dress. The farthest he had ever touched you.

“Don't wanna go to the movie, Phil,” you whined, running your thumb over his knuckles as his fingers broke under the hem.

He pinched at the new, sensitive skin you’d allowed him access to. It didn’t stop you. Hell, you continued to push his hand farther under your skirt until, fuck, his hand stroked at what could only be the edge of your panties. You leaned against him and moaned. You were so sensitive it was boiling his brain.

“Phil, take me home. Please.”

“Sure you don’t want to go?” he joked, having to cover his ragged breathing with a laugh. It didn’t help that he chose to interpret your twisting grip on his forearm as your desire for him to move his fingers that little bit more to the right, barely touching your pussy through your underwear. “Been talking about it all-”

“Yes!” you keened, spine arching and hands balling into his shirt. “Yes, please. Just take me . . .”

“Where?” he asked sternly sliding his hand up the front of your panties, earning a shuddering moan, as he pulled away. He didn’t need to look at his fingers as they took hold of the steering wheel to know you were wet. He kept his eyes on you as he threw the truck in reverse, already rolling back. “Can’t do this here. My house or yours?”

You looked at him silently until a horn honk made the both of you jump. He slammed on the brakes and grabbed the rear view mirror to get a clear look at what was behind them. The little white truck he had almost backed into screeched out of the parking lot. He chuckled as he tipped the mirror back into position. Too bad for them they had a very noticeable vanity license plate. He would have to make a call about that later.

“Asshole,” he said with a smirk, holding you close as he carefully backed out; pulling onto the dark, wet street.

#mw2 #graves/reader #graves x reader #cod fanfic #starry writes #I continue my sinning ways by denying the smut to yall 😔#It will be in the next chapter though! I promise!!#vote in the poll if you want to influence how the next chapter will shake out #edited the header to look more ~polished~ hope yall don't mind

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deramin2 · 1 month ago

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You are Vox Machina, and you've been sent by the prosperous and benevolent Emperex J'mon Sa Ord to the cardshark devil Zerxus Ilreze in the Nine Hells to retrieve a suit of armor made by the Dawnfather, a god Asmodeus hates.

Turns out the Emprex has a long-running gambling problem with the devil, and only a vast hoard of wealth stands between this being an inconvenience vs. Exandrian Uncut Gems. The devil then purposes a card game that's basically a mind games hard mode Go Fish hack. (Impressively abbreviated fast bluffing game.)

This servant of Asmodeus, whose name strikes fear into other denizens of the Hells, talks like a jaded former ex-military gay who got sucked into a violent conspiracy cult after becoming estranged from his family.

After upping the ante to the souls of the entire party (far more than Zerxus ever gambled), Pike tries to psych him out through asking for his life story. He tells a sob story about how his love and trust in his friends led to several colossal failures in judgement that destroyed the world. Then he lost even his surviving family who he’d given up everything to be reunited with. They never came back for him and they never tried.

Pike manages to read this correctly as his deep seated desire to have his family join him here because he can't leave. No matter what that does to them. He’s only focused on his own feelings and desires.

The whole time he is constantly repeating the most bad faith interpretation doomerist bullshit you've ever heard about how everything in the world is horrible and everyone deserves to suffer like he's suffering.

After all that, do you believe Zerxus is a reliable narrator of even his own history? Or is he telling you the version built on lies he tells himself because that's what he was manipulated to believe?

Personally I think Zerxus told us his interpretation of reality that he fully believes and shapes his actions around. But that doesn't mean he's correct. Especially about what he thinks happened in the absence of facts.

How often could he check on his family? What might might he have missed and then interpreted as never happening? How much did Asmodeus control what Zerxus saw, and his memories of it, through both manipulation and mind magic?

Right at the beginning of the episode, the Everlight warns Pike that beings in the Hells will try to corrupt her and redemption doesn’t exist for the people there.

Zerxus is an unreliable narrator, not a change in the story the audience knows. His narrative is a manifestation of his own corruption and his desire to spread it to others. Misinformation is the method the Lord of Lies uses to corrupt people.

#critical role #TLoVM spoilers #Critical Role meta #The Legend of Vox Machina #Ring of Brass #Vox Machina #Zerxus Ilerez #Pike Trickfoot

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bucknastysbabe · 9 months ago

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criston cole in a greens win au really is the kingmaker if he’s cucking aegon. slapped a crown on the king and now he’s making bastard kids to go on the throne. u go king.

Now I must write a blurb hnghhhh cuckingggg this is prob ass bc I’m sick rotting in bed with flubonic plague but OH WELL

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Dayne!reader, greens win AU, Criston is dark and manipulative, Aegon sad sacking around the place, cukolding, exhibitionism, breeding kink, crispy creme pie, infidelity, v!fingering, oral (m!receiving), pnv!sex, no beta I die like Ned stark, jealousy, one-sided-ish

Taglist: @starogeorgina @moncherri @bambitas @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @arcielee @valeskafics @sugarpoppss2 @fairysluna @lovelykhaleesiii

Do Your Job - C.Cole

Criston stopped caring long ago, pulling himself out of the layered filth of blood, gore, and dirt. Bodies of his men. The butcher’s ball they called it. Criston made sure that the Winter’s Wolves, Benjicot Blackwood, and Roddy the Ruin got a nice death by dragon. After some torture.

He saw through with that, as the Hand of the King and Lord Commander of the Kingsguard Criston had to attend to such matters. Such as what to do with Rhaenyra’s last child. Or the fucking mess that was Aegon. Aemond was still lurking around Harrenhal— said to return when his child was born. Aegon meanwhile, made Criston’s blood boil. Alicent was a maddened gnat in his ear.

Aegon had been recently remarried to a Dayne of Starfall, seeking out the ashen hair and Valyrian eyes of the Dornish house. She was gorgeous, eager to please, and could suck Criston’s prick under his desk for hours. The adorable queen had trouble with Aegon— considering the man was a bag of shattered bones and burns. The maesters had been attending to the two’s fertility plan.

She was not hard to woo, seeking Cole’s comforts as Aegon still wanted to hoard playthings and whores, uncaring much of his wife at the moment. He bedded her regularly— but they had to be careful with his bad leg and hip. Criston’s little star, beautiful as one, was the shiniest thing in the dreary keep by far. But horribly lonely, so he’d been keeping an eye, asking the Queen to help him with letters and tasks of the realm.

It wasn’t long before she was in his lap crying about how terrible the Red Keep was. Criston had his proverbial claws sunk deep into her by then. He meant his words of praise, how special his star was, and meant doubly on how much he too hated the Keep. Criston’s fingers crawled up her dress as he cooed, bringing the girl to likely her first orgasm since arriving.

They sat together in the Hand’s foyer, Ser Cole writing a letter to some raucous lordling. He ran a hand through his hair and sat back, dark eyes meeting a strange indigo of sorts. “Have there been any advancements with the maesters and your womb?” She shook her head, blush dusting her cheeks.

“Go on, what’s the issue my star?”

She leaned over the table to grip his hands, pleading in her body language. “Do not grow wroth when I tell you this okay?” Criston nodded, there was no chance he would not be pissed. Just a feeling. The Dayne sighed, “He’s impotent but he swears it’s me, I don’t know, they’ve started transferring his, seed, into me. By now I’m not sure, he berates me about it.” Criston’s eyes narrowed and she squeaked.

The smaller figure was picked up by him, striding to the King’s chambers. Where Aegon was like to be making two court favorites defile themselves. The queen begged, “My lord, please, I know you feel strongly for me but-“

He growled, “No!,” then softer, “No. He’s being a fool, a lady’s desire should help the process. I’ll oversee you two. We need heirs to the throne.”

He kicked open the door, startling a half-awake Aegon. Criston gently laid the Queen on the bed then turned to a glaring Targaryen. Aegon’s burnt face twisted in annoyance, slightly slurring, “The hell is going on here Cole?” A goblet of wine sat in front of him— of course he was drinking.

Criston folded his arms. “You’re drunk right now? It’s barely even past midday.”

“Sorry, one tends to get bored when his wife would rather cavort around with the Hand,” he acridly spat back.

She protested from behind, “Alright, I can stay around, it’s fine!”

Criston eyed his star and back to Aegon. He asked “You have a beauty like that and can’t fill her belly with seed? You have the maesters stuff her like a turkey instead? Pathetic.”

Aegon’s form shook with rage, reaching for his crutch, Criston swiftly kicking it out of the way with a clatter. Aegon barked, “I’m your goddamn king, bring that back now! Maybe she’s the one barren, dirtied by lowborn seed!”

That little fucker! Criston’s eye twitched. He had not put his cock into her sacred place but now? Someone had to do the job— and it would be him. The taller brunette forced Aegon’s chair closer to the bed, the king hissing in pain, violet eyes wide. Cole chastised, “Since you’re so smart, I’ll do a little test, see if my lowborn cock has sullied her womb.” Aegon’s soft face pulled into a frown, squirming in position.

Criston began to pull at his gauntlets in quick snaps, then the bracers, and the chest plate along with the heavy shoulders. He decided to keep his chain of hands on as an ego boost. Lowborn cock raised to the second highest position in the realm, doing the highest position’s job.

Dayne stared at him, eyes flicking to the strangely silent Aegon, then back. Criston smiled at the queen, winding a tan hand into her ashen locks. He murmured, “Don’t worry dearest, we’ll have you feeling wonderful in no time, right your Grace?” Aegon remained stone cold— lips pouting.

The hand began to ease off the simple Dornish layers of her dress, baring that gorgeous body. How could she not be fertile? His star was all curves and soft skin, she would be great as a mother. Criston told her that, earning a whine, her legs wrapped around his waist. He panted to the king, “First, they need to be actually attracted to you.”

Cole pressed lush kisses to her neck and shoulders, his big hand testing the waters between her thighs. She was a little wet, not yet how he could get the Dayne, sopping. He rasped just for her ears, “Relax for me, he’s so jealous you might get an obedient king. Gorgeous star doesn’t know her own wiles.” She writhed a bit, tits pressed tight against flat chest.

“Oh, oh, there my Lord,” the blonde panted.

Criston was pumping one finger into her velvet heat, sliding in a second one to crook upwards. His thumb swirled around her swollen bud. He laughed carelessly at Aegon, whose scarred hands dug into the sides of his chair, puffy lips open. The brunette snarked, “See how easy it is not to be a selfish prick? It’s quite rewarding to make your lady come— although I think she’s already too attached to me.”

The king whined softly.

The queen moaned louder, crying Criston’s name and wetting his fingers further. The knight pulled from her full tits, purposely working her cunt over while asking. “Doesn’t that feel good little star? Don’t you wish your King would take care of you like that?” The queen gasped and mewled, cheeks a deep flush, eyes guiltily looking over at the squirming Aegon.

Criston patted her cheek, pressing a kiss over plump lips. Inky eyes and smug lips turned again to talk down to the Targaryen. He added in a dark voice, “Obviously you can’t do the fucking job so I will until you get it up and pump her with a blonde one. Although I am quite attached myself, she’s a wonderful little star. I’m going to fuck her good and thorough. Our first time too.”

Aegon whined, begging, “Ser, stop, I didn’t know, don’t!” But his hard cock was pulsing and the king had made no attempt to call for help. He couldn’t move either, the crutch out of his grasp. Aegon watched Criston work his wife into a peak, her pretty breasts heaving, thighs twitching. Utterly gorgeous. Jealousy swelled within his burnt chest.

The Dayne beauty sloppily mouthed against Criston’s mouth, trailing down to press kisses against his lower belly, grabbing his cock before asking. “You want to impregnate me sir? Give me an heir?” She could almost explode at the thought. Criston nodded, eyes hazy as her plump lips enveloped his cock, hands expert on rolling his balls and the other working in tandem with that warm mouth.

Aegon made a gutted noise.

Criston groaned deeply, watching his length disappear down velvet throat. The queen kept her indigo eyes on him, teary and wide. Fucking beautiful. He swallowed down a weak noise and rasped to Aegon, “She’s quite good at this, willing to please and eager to learn your Grace. But there you are, quickly back to your old ways.” She shuddered at the praise, Criston easing his star off so the real fun could begin.

He murmured, “On your back sweetling.” He pecked her once, shivering at the taste of him. The queen laid on her back, instinctively tucking a pillow under her hips. Criston rumbled, playfully giving her ass a smack. “Good girl, mmm, you just want to be a mama hm?” The shared noises of Aegon and his Queen made the Knight laugh.

He eased himself on top, making sure her thick thighs spread around his waist. The knight laid forward, grinning and nuzzling her nervous face. He cooed, “You’re safe with me star, pretty baby, doing so good.” Her arms slunk around his shoulders, their bodies fitting with together as Criston eased himself into her slick, swollen folds.

Fuck, she was tight and pulsing already, inner walls aiming to milk the man. Lady Dayne cried out, busty tits heaving as she was filled up by Ser Criston’s heavy cock. It was foreign, having so much care put into her pleasure. She moaned in surprise when he bottomed out, rasping nonsense against her neck.

Aegon sniveled now, watching his Queen get something he couldn’t possibly provide. Ser Criston, the crafty fucker, already worked his magic and cock into his queen. The blonde regretted many an action against his wonderful wife— seeing how she mooned over fucking Cole. Cole; a common born conniving oathbreaking madman, he truly enjoyed seeing suffering and agony. But there he was, giggling and gently fucking Aegon’s queen, the picture of chivalry. He needed more wine, and to tug his miserable cock.

Criston hiked her legs up, the back of her knees in the crooks of his arms— a mating press. She cried out, little hands scrabbling at his shoulders, eyes getting teary with pleasure. He moaned low, forcefully fucking himself inside her tight cunt, making sure she could feel every little drag and thrust. She mewled in ecstasy, “Criston, Ser, breed me, breed me please! Ohh I want it, need it!”

He grinned at Aegon’s sobs and pulling of his own prick. Criston teased “You want my seed star? Want to be all pretty and round, knowing your Lord Hand made you swell? Tits and hips so ripe for me, such a pretty mother you’ll make.” She tightened around him, arching her back, practically drooling. He focused on fucking her deep, swiping his thumb around her button, earning the cutest little mewls.

“Yes! Gods yes! Criston,” she howled, clamping down on his prick. He pressed his lips to hers, grunting as he fucked her to the point of no return. He cooed at his cute little star crying out her peak, gushing all over his still-moving cock. She weeped, “Please, give me your seed, want to be a mama, please!” Cole couldn’t deny her request, groaning long and low as his tummy tightened, emptying pump after pump of his cum into her tight pussy. He bit his lip bloody in the process, feeling feral, but the knight wouldn’t tear her skin like that.

He let go of her legs, gently holding her canted hips, humming, “How long do they say wait Aeg?”

A sharp cry, gasp, and tortured, “15 minutes.”

The Dayne didn’t even seem to be worried about her broken husband, smiling and holding Criston’s big hands. She kissed at each knuckle, eyes full of adoration and love. How they should be. How he deserved all along. What a special little star.

The first two came out with brown hair and eyes, sending a familiar shock across the keep. Then the third had ashen hair, just like the Queen. Mayhaps the Targaryen seed wasn’t that strong within Aegon, people whispered. Criston would smile, not indulging a secret. He’d rub her pretty bump alone, let Aegon play the daddy. He did alright enough.

#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #one sided feelings #aegon ii targaryen #ser criston cole #ser criston cole x reader #Criston cole x reader #Ser criston cole imagine

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willowed-wisp · 4 months ago

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HER KNIGHT, HIS HEART - part eight

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Ser Harwin Strong x female!OC/ x reader

WARNINGS: swearing, descriptions of childbirth, mentions child loss, suggestive themes, violence, Criston Cole getting his ass kicked

TEN YEARS LATER…

Elspeth was on a mission, her destination were Alicent’s chambers. Every part of the woman was swollen and she didn’t know whether it were her breasts or beneath her diaphragm that burned. It had been like that very early on in her seventh pregnancy.

Nobody was surprised when she popped out an army, the depravity sounding from their chambers… it wouldn’t take a genius to know she’d become pregnant over and over.

Their eldest, Alyric, was three-and-ten while their youngest, Lyonei, was four.

Knocking on the door… she met a mop of platinum blonde, a strong jaw followed. Her stare lasted mere seconds, turning attention to the open-eyed, mortified sister of hers. “Alicent…” Her head shunned away. Now her focus remained on that of the Rogue Prince- who had been tamed by Laena Velaryon that past decade, “What in the hells did you say?”

“Only the truth, daughter…”

Storming over to him, “I will never be your daughter!” She stared up at him, the same scowl he himself had and the same wickedness- even in High Valyrian. It was returned with a smile.

“The blood of the dragon runs thick…” By the Gods, she would stab him if she got the chance.

“I’m nothing like you.”

“That’s yet to be seen.”

She reminded herself of why she was here- why had he been there in the first place? “What business do you have here?”

“I was asking The Queen if my grandchildren might accompany the princes down to the Dragonpit…”

“Can you stop speaking fucking Valyrian? Prince Daemon, please leave. My sister and I have matters to discuss…” He gave a less than respectful bow. They both seethed. “You are his kin. And it somehow slipped your mind to inform me!” That was their mother in her.

Elspeth's own anger boiled deeper- primal even. Yet she contained that eruption- it wasn't good for the baby. For now. “Father told me well over a decade ago,” that struck a heartstring in the younger, “I didn’t say anything to protect you… you had more than enough on your shoulders.” Elspeth observed the face change. “I was embarrassed.”

“How so?”

“I am a bastard, Alicent. I’ve been trying to escape it… escape him… keep him away from my children,” Rage turned to recoil- for fifteen years she had felt hopeless with the sword over her head, “Please, sister… understand that... I need to protect them…”

It wasn't a scapegoat nor did she cry crocodile tears... she had always been trying to keep her kids safe. It didn’t matter if Alyric was thirteen, he still couldn’t deal with the likes of Daemon Targaryen. Even if his own father was Lord Commander of the City Watch. Luckily for her sanity the prince along with his wife and twin girls were headed to Pentos that next day.

"When you were younger you always looked up to me... what changed?" An ambush down the corridor.

A roll of her eyes, "Could we have this conversation later? Every part of me is swollen, my ribs are like daggers and I cannot be bothered with your manipulation today..." Despite the agony she paced quicker, or so she thought.

"You're just like your mother," Gods, did she wish she was armed.

Continuing forward, "Don't talk about my mother. Not after the pain you caused her."

His hand, with a surprising level of gentleness turned her to face him- the eight month old bump affirmed a comfortable distance. "What did Otto Hightower tell you? That I attacked Alyrie?"

"Didn’t you? Then why am I here with your blood in my veins..."

A sincere, stern look on the man's face- he hesitated in his words, "The times I shared with your mother were of her choice... my decisions may be... questionable, at times... but I’m not heartless." She shoved him away, unsure.

"That's yet to be seen, my prince..." She did the proper action of a curtsy, unable to commit to it fully due to her condition. That confused her even more.

Had her father lied to her all of those years? An entire decade.

She did naturally have a liking for Daemon in an idolisation type of manner, they shared the same temperament; knowing fully well why they did.

The woman needed to see her children, probably in the courtyard…

She shares his majesty’s presence on the balcony- spying if her wayward children and husband were in fact there. “Your Grace,” she curtsied with some labour. It had definitely been the hardest pregnancy- even when her twin boys, Jaimes and Ronin, made home in her stomach. She hoped the bloating would fade when she delivered- not wishing to feel blistered her entire life.

The King- dishevelled due to illness- waved his hand, “No need for such formalities, Elspeth- we are family,” he didn’t know how closely related they truly were.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he motioned for her to take a perch- she smiled up at the Hand of the King, her father-in-law.

Turning her attention down to the courtyard she saw no knight of the name Harwin Strong, only that of Criston Cole. With him, the princes and her own children stood. Listening to every word he said. “I’m going to see if Ser Criston requires assistance with training,” her feet despised her but she stood. Buckling slightly, held firmly by Lyonel.

“Maybe some rest would benefit you, Elspeth,” the man said with caution. “Ser Criston is the best swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms- he can handle training the children…”

She patted the hand on her shoulder, “Rest is for the dead,” she joked, though she could be in the grave that very next month.

Early on into her pregnancy she was diagnosed with ‘toxic birth disease’. The mortality rate was… devastatingly high, and she informed the Maesters not to divulge to her Lord husband- he worried so…

She would make it through… she had to for the children she made her way down for.

That same courtyard she used to hack training mannequins and Harwin would always catch her. But now she bore witness to her own children- even her own girls alongside their brothers and cousins.

Alyric stood out like a sore thumb, tall and already gaining his father’s ballast. Even his smile was like Harwin’s and his fighting stance. That grin turned into a scowl, and shouting commenced. “Ser Criston, Luke is struggling, if I may-,”

“No little Lord Strong, you may not. Lucerys must learn, as I did from the pommel of a sword or the blade itself,” Elspeth liked neither the condescension nor the tone the knight used. “If you’re a trained warrior, Alyric, spar with me.” He grappled the front of the boy’s shirt, who was able to maintain balance from the brute force.

She staved off intruding- Alyric wouldn’t care for the embarrassment of conceding because of his mother being protective. Like his father, Alyric was formidable in stature and presence but that didn’t provide technique.

Ser Criston presumed he would have the eldest Strong on the floor in one strike but Alyric was a young brute. Until the knight crushed him to the ground, “You’re not the best there has been, boy. Maybe the Lord Commander needs to teach you modesty,”

That was the last straw, “Ser Criston.” The children shivered at that voice- for there was nothing they feared more than the wrath of their mother, “We are finished here for the day children…” voice as soft as silk and as gentle as a feather. They ran along- Gwen ushering the younger ones out.

And she did not care if they had an audience overhead, “I do not take orders from you. You may be of royal birth, but you are still a bastard.” He must have overheard Daemon and Alicent.

“You forget yourself, Cole. Strong words for a common-born concubine.” His hand wrapped her cheek before she could think. Not phased she readied for his raised fist, aiming for her face. But he found the floor thanks to a swiftly negotiated knee to the crotch. Done so with grace and decorum. “A reminder of who my father is. Now stay on your knees… where you rightfully belong,” venom rolled off her tongue. Looking up towards the disapproving faces of the King and Lyonel Strong.

A face far too sweet for the person behind it gave a snide smirk, “You sound just like him,” he paused - studying her every move, “Your mouths move far too much, for what you both are… conniving cunts.” Contemplating whether or not to crouch down, deciding not to; being eight months along.

"You're the one on the floor after hitting a lady who is with babe..." Her shadowed green gaze bore straight into the man's soul, "What a sad little life, Cole... now they all see what a wretch you are."

Elspeth agreed with him. She did sound like Daemon, but at least with the Rogue Prince you knew what to expect.

The unexpected.

Clutching her swelled stomach, she paced to her sister's chambers. Heart pounding, her back felt constricted. Elspeth greeted the guards stationed outside of the door with politeness, stepping into the room- finding those big brown eyes. "Elspeth...?"

"Your 'sworn shield' just hit me... King Viserys and the Lord Hand saw it for themselves…" Elspeth's forehead felt clammy- cheeks reddened.

"Ser Criston... hit you?" The woman didn't know if she nodded in answer to her sister.

Alicent's arm wrapped around her older sister- feeling how hot she was. The unmistakeable coiling in her lower stomach was all too familiar, "Fuck..."

"What is it?" Something felt different, body numb. She could no longer feel or hear Alicent. To her, she was in a forest with her mother's long red hair swaying as they rode deeper into the trees. But in reality her sister screamed for the assistance of Maesters and for the presence of the strongest knight in the Seven Kingdoms.

Curls were the first thing she awoke to followed by bloodshot eyes like the ocean. "My strong knight..." Milk of the poppy, she presumed- reaching her hand to rub his cheek with her thumb. His rigidity solved itself as he welcomed that warmth- not nearly as searing as she had been beforehand. But even under the influence, Elspeth knew her husband- something was direly wrong. "What troubles you?"

Then she remembered snippets. How she rattled the King's quarters with cries to keep her baby safe... "No... we couldn't have lost the baby... Harwin..." Tears wrapped his eyes, shaking his head. The murmurs of child-like giggles in the distance.

"We have a daughter..." But a plague cast over him, until he broke. Normally she was the one cracking like a piece of glass. His name sounded so divine on her lips and her touch a warm reminder that he was alive as was she.

His body rocked the bed with sobs as her arms enveloped his bulking frame. His golden cloak beneath her fingertips, "We're both here. The Stranger will have to make a better attempt..."

"You were dead,” time stopped. She hadn’t been crying, but when Harwin; a man who possessed such redoubt, quivered in his whisper… she couldn’t help it. “The Maesters said that your insides failed you, and by some miracle,” a tear shed, “you are here… by my side. And so is our darling daughter. What shall we name her?”

Her head crashed against the pillow. The look on his face imprinted in her memory- one of joy laboured by disparity, “A miracle… Mirabel… our little Mia,” the innocent face of the girl present- Rhaenyra holding the girl in her arms.

She had been crying, “She may be the cutest button of your brood… what is her name?”

“Mirabel… our Mia…”

Criston Cole was brought to justice. The King was appalled, and the prince was blind with fury. “Ser Criston Cole… you have been a faithful knight to the Crown, but today I witnessed abhorrent actions that are forbidden as a member of the Kingsguard nor of any noble man,” Elspeth watched on alongside her husband, “Before I cast judgement, speak… what do you have to say for yourself?”

Elspeth respected the king, but he was too lenient. “The words of Lady Elspeth are as tainted as her blood, Your Grace…”

“What do you mean? Lady Elspeth is a just, fair woman,”

“She is a bastard, Your Grace, not the daughter of Otto Hightower,” Viserys’ laughed at the man knelt down.

Elspeth was frozen in the crowd of nobility- all eyes on her, “And who may her father be?” The King held genuine amusement to the accusation.

The heavy doors opened, and so entered the Prince Daemon, “She is my kin.”

Ser Criston, no matter how true his claim had been, was exiled to the Wall. While Elspeth became legitimised under the eyes of the King and of the Seven. Though, Viserys was not thrilled- he was glad peace was made with Daemon, who remained in Kings Landing.

Laena passed away giving birth to their third child, killed by dragonfyre- Vhagar. The question of Rhaenyra’s children wasn’t thrown into contention, and they were never to know that the disgraced knight Ser Criston Cole was their father. But Elspeth knew what Jace and Luke were- but she loved them like her own sons. She would protect them with her dying breath.

And she did not break that vow, even against her own sisters. Lylith had always loved animals, held such compassion that she spent her free days compiling a bestiary of the creatures of Westeros. She was unlike Gwen, who loved hunting- alike their mother. The second born daughter had never detailed Vhagar up close.

During the wake of Laena Velaryon, she sought out the she-dragon. They feared she had been eaten, but she arrived returned on green back of the biggest dragon in the Seven Kingdoms. Harwin didn’t know whether to be proud or terrified that his family owned the two largest dragons - except Vermithor - in the Seven Kingdoms.

Peace was quaint in the years following.

Lyonel Strong still remained as the King’s Hand, though, Otto Hightower still plotted his return. Quashed when Viserys died, and Rhaenyra swiftly ascended. “I wish to offer you the post as my Hand…” It was what the pair had always dreamed of.

“The Lords will not abide by that-“

“I am Queen, I am the Head of the Seven Kingdoms and they will follow my commands,” she paused at the apprehension written over Elspeth’s face.

The Princess shook her head, “Lord Lyonel has been a faithful Hand to your father- ,”

“How am I supposed to rule if I cannot fully rely on my Hand? In my absence how can I rely on the judgement of men to carry out my word?” The Queen held the Princess’ hands, “You are my closest friend- ever since you arrived in Kings Landing- before I was born. You have never shown deceit nor malice on my part- even my husband doesn’t have my complete favour… you do…”

“If I say yes will it stop your queenly speech?” Rhaenyra gave a nod. “Then yes, I will be your Hand…”

She was a bloody good one at that, Rhaenyra remained in Kings Landing as she always had.

Ric was a promising young heir to Harrenhal- knighted for his fighting in the second war for the Stepstones. He was a good sword, and betrothed to Rhaena Velaryon for his actions. They suited one another- calm and loyal.

Gwen, unruly like her mother, rode horses not dragons; fearing great heights. She found a love match in the Lord of the North, Cregan Stark. He loved her fighting spirit- unlike any Southerner he had met.

Lily rode the biggest dragon in the Known World. Her mother refused a marriage with the Lannisters- who called out for an alliance. Lily found affections with the young Lord Oscar Tully. They had proven to be a youthful yet wise Lord and Lady of Riverrun.

Jaimes found himself separated from his twin, Ronin but Jaime was living his dream under the wing of his uncle Gwayne. Travelling the Seven Kingdoms at the age of six-and-ten, yet to find himself a wife but with his father’s looks and mother’s drive- it’s more so the fact that he isn’t looking.

Ronin had claimed the Bronze Fury at two-and-ten, and has since built a loving bond with Vermithor. He found himself with a crowd of women gawking, his mother’s angelic features and his father’s demeanour. Yet he only had eyes for the brash Alysanne Blackwood, admiring the huntress and sharing liaisons while at Harrenhal. Elspeth warned him to ask for her hand before somebody else demanded it- and he feared no person as much as he feared and loved his mother.

Cullen favoured the pen rather than the sword, becoming a scholar. He toured around the libraries, transcribing every ounce of knowledge he garnered. This took him to the Free Cities- where he encountered a young maiden. Her name was Aliandra, she loved his inquisitive nature and he her fiery attitude. It was only when he ventured to her homeland that he discovered her to be Princess Aliandra Martell, and he was to be her Prince Consort. It aided in relations between the Seventh Kingdom.

Lyonei continued her education in alchemy and prophecy. Still close friends with Princess Helaena, though, at Harrenhal she found the company of Alys Rivers- rumoured to be her aunt- and judiciously followed her expertise. For that time being she had no room for love, neither did her parents force her.

Mia resided at Driftmark, Maesters said she had problems with the heart. But she enjoyed life with her head in books. Rhaenys was more than willing to house the gentle-spoken, petite girl even in her adulthood. She found the sea air aided in her ailments, finding love in a sailor.

Their parents moved to Harrenhal when Ser Lyonel died. Larys lurked in the shadows, not any danger.

The Kingdoms lived in peace. But the pair weren’t alive when the power struggles took place- resulted to ash and bone.

Dying in bed together- both of old bones. Knowing what eternal love felt like, reuniting with Alyrie Florent and those lost along the years.

History would remember the fierceness of Elspeth Hightower- true Targaryen born - married a strong. An issue of seven, rider of Ebrion the Cannibal and the best shot in the Seven Kingdoms.

THE END

___________________________

So this is the last part of the series. I have loved writing this and thank you for the support with it. Thank you to everybody reading ❤️❤️❤️

Series taglist:-

@llynx7 @babyred7 @felicisimor @beebeechaos

#house of the dragon #harwin breakbones #harwin x reader #harwin strong #hotd #house hightower #house strong #house targaryen #ser harwin strong #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd fic #hotd spoilers

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femmeslash · 6 months ago

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role swap au where other characters from the same source material are the sinners instead. here's my picks

Dongbaek (still out for dongrang's blood)

Gretchen (real sweetheart but easy to manipulate. got kicked out of the nest where she grew up)

Dulcinea (6'1 butch slaughterhouse worker who doesn't know what the hell she's doing here. her name isn't even dulcinea)

The Lord of Horikawa (no one likes him)

Raymond (NO ONE LIKES HIM)

Lin Daiyu (huge crybaby, secretly a freak. kinda like sinclair)

Lockwood (i guess we're going to the house i used to rent, that guy was pretty weird, i wonder how he's — oh my god he got worse)

Queequeg (keeping raymond in line by firmly placing her hand on his shoulder whenever he says something she doesn't like. he is pants-shittingly afraid of her. everyone else loves her.)

Sonya (has beef with the lord of horikawa for some reason and won't answer questions about it. still has the mark of cain)

Dante (dante)

Kromer (currently having insane toxic yuri with daiyu)

Telemachus (looking for his mom and finding a whole lot of sickos instead)

Grete (keeps asking if they can kill raymond)

#limbus company #if it's possible i will make kromer/daiyu a thing after canto 8

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remembrancer-of-heresy · 5 months ago

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Replica (Part 3)

Summary: It seems even the primarch doesn't understand who you are to him.

Perturabo/fem!Reader

Warnings: incest (kinda), possessive behavior, manipulation, hint of masturbation.

Word Count: 2397

While I was writing this part, I was listening "Darren Korb - Song of the Sirens". Hope you enjoy it.

Song: Mitski - Washing Machine Heart

Perturabo fulfilled his promise. No one else dared to offend or touch you. All serfs knew this and even the Space Marines had to reckon with it. You still couldn’t figure out how you managed to earn such an attitude from the Primarch of the Iron Warriors. But you don't want to complain, just enjoy your new life.

You began to live next to the Iron Lord in the next room. It had already amazed you with size and wealth, but this was not enough for the primarch. He began to reinterpret it, adding new details that, according to him, you should like. No, he knew you would be delighted with them.

Even your wardrobe has undergone changes. No more gray serf robes. Although you weren’t able to wear such strict and sophisticated outfits as the girls from Olympia. Instead of complex hairstyles, your hair was always loose or tied up in something simple. When Perturabo first saw you like this, he was about to reprimand you, but in the end he changed his mind.

You even got two servants. You tried to resist such innovations, but the primarch refused your request. After all, a girl of your position is supposed to have maids. Besides, if you refuse, the serfs will be sent to do hard work. You didn't get to experience such life, but you heard enough from the other slaves to make your skin crawl. Seeing the fear in your eyes, Perturabo grinned, noticing that you were always kind.

Sometimes you forget about his other side.

You were also aware that the primarch continued to attack Imperial worlds, taking resources in the form of fuel and people for the Iron Blood. He consumed all living things and left hell behind. It was frightening and devastating. You should have felt disgust and pure horror towards him. But as soon as you saw the primarch again, only tenderness remained in your soul. Perturabo continued to pamper you in every possible way with an absolutely stoic face.

Although sometimes you were puzzled by him. Once he told you about the customs of Olympia, when mature young men chose a new name for themselves. Perturabo, of course, refused to follow this rule and you shook your head and whispered his name. At this moment, the man tensed and looked at you. Closely and deciding.

“Perhaps you would like to undergo this ritual?” - the primarch began carefully. You became nervous at how slowly he chose his words. As if afraid of your reaction. And it’s not clear which one exactly. - “I know a suitable name.”

“But I’m not a young man. Besides, I like my name. Do you like it?” - You smiled softly at the man, gently placing your small hand on his. The Iron Lord looked at it and then into your eyes. Did you imagine or did you see a mixture of disappointment and relief? It was as if he himself was not sure what answer he wanted to hear.

"Yes. It's very beautiful".

Finding yourself in the primarch's favor, you nevertheless spent all your time only with yourself or with the Iron Lord. But soon Perturabo completely forbade you to leave your room under any pretext. According to the lord, Iron Blood will have to go to a rather dangerous place and not alone. Moreover, the primarch's companion is an extremely pretentious person whom you should not have met. You soon learned from the maids that he was talking about Fulgrim.

There was a strange tension in the air. Unnatural. It tastes disgusting. Your slaves told you that Perturabo's guest behaves absolutely terribly, throwing away his own and Iron warriors as well as toys. As for the Emperor's Children, they no longer looked like perfect warriors. You tried to find out the details, but the serfs fell silent.

You think that was the last time you saw them. Later they disappeared and a servitor began to serve you. All you could do about this was cry into your pillow. You really didn’t want to be alone and you hoped that you could protect these girls. You disered to befriend with them. Now your only company is a slave of flesh and metal. And your food has acquired a reddish tint and a strange iron taste. But you had to give it credit, you felt much healthier after every meal.

This went on for some time and you got used to the new daily routine... until one day the primarch came into your room. Only it wasn't Perturabo.

“I knew that he was hiding something valuable from me, but I could not even think about it,” Fulgrim spoke with a grin.

You felt the stench. A sickeningly cloying smell, as if the primarch had gone too far with perfume. And not only with them. His entire face was covered in powder, and his whole appearance screamed defiantly. He stood and looked at you like you were a bug, barely holding back his laughter.

“So many worlds, so many solar systems. Billions, trillions of lives. But still he met you.” - an evil grimace painted the primarch’s face, and a long tongue crawled across his lips. You cringed. He reminded you more of a snake than a demigod. - “But you are different. I wonder what he does to you.”

"Nothing. We're just talking. I-I,” you started to stutter, unable to handle the pressure. And how could you explain to Fulgrim your relationship with Perturabo if you yourself did not fully understand it. You couldn't say that you were his friend? It is unthinkable for a demigod to be friends with a mere mortal girl. He had his own reason for keeping you with him and you would never dare ask him about it.

“You, you.” - The primarch knelt down and took your chin. It was as if he was feeding on your fear, enjoying your trembling and appearance. - “Don’t whine. Give me your attention, which my brother lacks so much, imperfect replica.”

“Get out.”

Fulgrim didn't even have time to turn around or stand up before the Iron Lord picked him up by the scruff of the neck like a kitten and threw him into the corridor. You covered your mouth with your hands, holding back a scream. Throwing an unreadable look at you, Perturabo walked out into the corridor, closing the door behind him. You saw no more of the primarch of the Emperor's Children. But you heard his groans and cries of pain while Perturabo beated him.

You've never been so terrified. It seemed to you as if all the Iron Blood was rusting from the surge of emotions. Once again you heard the sounds of beating, but this time you were not the cause of the quarrel between the brothers. A couple of times the ship entered into battle, but you couldn’t even see them because your window was tightly sealed and you were hiding under the blanket. But you heard, you felt. It was driving you crazy.

And yet, after some time, everything calmed down. It was as if everyone had died. Until the primarch came to your chambers. He sat down loudly on the bed and your heart bled with pity. He looked so tired, as if every second he was carrying a huge stone on his shoulders. The already gray eyes dimmed.

“He betrayed me” - you didn’t even have to ask who exactly. Your hands began to tremble on their own as soon as you remembered that carnivorous look. - “My brother wanted me dead. He didn't receive it. Lost honor. But he became perfect.”

The man whispered the last word with contempt and looked at you. His face took on a strange expression and you thought he was going to cry.

“But you won’t leave me?”

"No, of course not". - You couldn’t hold back your tears. You began to sob even more when the primarch's hand began to stroke your hair. He did it so carefully and easily, trying not to break you. Surrounded by nothing but iron, you were now nothing but flesh and blood. Alive.

Everything was supposed to return to its place, and the meeting with Fulgrim was to be forgotten like a bad dream. You started visiting his workshop again, talking about everything in the world. You didn’t bring up the topic of your slaves, strange food, and especially not about his brother. You just couldn't make him sad. Or angry.

Moreover, every day the primarch became gloomier and depressed. You heard how he took out his anger on everything he could get his hands on. The screams of the serfs. And once he scolded the Iron Warrior right in front of you. You felt in your gut how the Space Marine felt shame while Perturabo humiliated him in front of a mortal girl.

You didn't know how to explain it, but your relationship had also changed. Perturabo has let you into his life again. But it was as if he had built a wall. Even if you now had lunch with him. And he carefully made sure that you ate all your rations. He let you take a nap in his chair. Taught you how to make simple things. He started asking you to do other duties. And you were only happy to please him.

You didn’t notice how only you two were left.

The primarch was very tired. He didn't tell you much about his research. But all you cared about was that he finally rested. So now you served him fruit and wine while he took a bath. The murmur of warm water and puffs of steam completely engulfed the chambers, creating the illusion of safety. There was no war, no suffering and no smell of burning iron. Just completely calm.

While the primarch was soaking in the bath, leaning his elbows on the bars, you sat next to him on the pillows. He remained silent, and you continued to chirp about the recent book he gave you to read. You were delighted with the Olympian poetry, but this did not surprise Perturabo at all.

"Help me". - the primarch croaked. You, relaxed, looked at him. Without the implants on his head, he looked less intimidating. In addition, he recently decided to grow a beard, as was customary at Olympia.

Seeing him pointing at the oils made you smile. Iron Within, Iron Without? You were ready to argue with this statement as you soaped the man’s shoulders, feeling him relax under your touch. No, he is not alien to softness, but he is trying to hide it behind seven locks. You understood that you loved him as a friend. Like a brother.

Suddenly you felt the man tense. You looked at him perplexed until you heard his whisper.

“Come down.”

You involuntarily licked your lips. You carefully lowered your feet into the water. You didn’t want to get your dress wet, but you didn’t want to be left without it even more. Even if many serfs could go without clothes and there was a demigod in front of you, you could not cope with shyness.

The man was reclining and you could almost reach his chin. But only almost. You felt his eyes touch you and pursed your lips. Trying not to pay attention to the strange tension, began to soap his shoulders and torso. Gradually, the awkwardness passed and you almost decided to continue the conversation, but made a mistake.

You looked straight into his eyes.

Can steel burn? The primarch's gray eyes turned into two lights. The man clenched his jaw, but he didn't look angry. With your palms you felt his body tense and he leaned towards you. A shadow fell on your face, absorbing your entire insides. A little more and you will fall into the abyss.

Breath hitched and a squeak escaped your lips. The man continued to take your space. His hand landed on your back. It almost hurt. You tried to say his name, but only one syllable came out.

“Bo.”

Suddenly everything stopped. Few would have believed you, but you clearly saw the shock on the primarch’s face. He was dumbfounded, his lips trembling. You could almost hear his heartbeat.

"Leave me." - Perturabo was still holding your back, loosening his grip. Seeing that you were still standing, he frowned and turned away from you like a child. “NOW!”

Stunned, you had no choice but to leave the primarch alone with himself. Alone with thoughts.

***

He couldn't get this image out of his head. Rosy cheeks, gentle eyes, small hands on his body. That tousled hair and those clothes falling awkwardly off your shoulders. He saw you, but he also saw her. He heard you sigh, but he heard her say his name. You both merged into one.

Perturabo didn't know how to describe his feelings at that moment, but he wanted to break you. Strangle. No. Squeeze in a hug. Save her image or, on the contrary, destroy her so that only you remain. You're almost the same. Almost. You are imperfect.

“She’s not your sister, you know that, right?”

“So pretty.”

“Imperfect.”

Yes, you were imperfect. You were supposed to be a copy, a replacement. You had her eyes, facial expressions, body, voice. You even loved the same things. But it was still different in some ways. Be it the way you wore your dresses and carried yourself at ease. How you remained silent when he said things she didn't like.

You won't contradict him. You support. You respect. You obey. You love him.

He hated you for it.

He adored you for it.

Perturabo still could not throw out the words of his traitor brother, continuing to replay them in his head. He knew this. He couldn't explain the desire he felt. He loved her. And he loved you too. But differently. Quite different.

The primarch felt not only his hearts, but also his body being overcome by a previously unfamiliar desire. He had no choice but to surrender to it and throw out the accumulated tension. Take relief.

He was grateful that you left. You should not see him in such a state, in such an action. The primarch took a deep breath, remembering your voice like a siren's song. How deeply you have sunk your roots into his soul.

Yes, you were more than a replica.

#primarch x reader #perturabo x reader #primarch x oc #tw: incest #warhammer 40k

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