#i felt like this answer demanded pics
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episims · 2 years ago
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@tvickiesims
Also Epi, did they touch hands and did Chase gave her his good on a fork to try? 😏😂
Lol
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This is how their highly romantic dinner looked like. The only discussion they had during eating was Ally noting something about food at one point.
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So not really xD
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miumura · 2 months ago
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WAiTiN’ ON CALLS — S. JAEYUN 𓂃 ⭑
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( 엔하이픈 제이크 ) : jake misses you — too much for his own liking. he tries to move on, and by doing so, he gives you one last call. usually it would go directly to voicemail, but instead, he was greeted with you on the other line.
──── ex!jake x gn ! r . . . ⌕ ex 2 lovers, second chance, angst, fluff ∿ 𝔀ord count 2.1K+ ( 2196 ) ╱ HAPPY BF JAKE DAY 🤍 i’ve been dying to write a fic using this pic of jake ever since it got posted … so this is for me and my jake baes 🤍
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Jake knew he was beyond exhausted—so tired that all he could manage after work was to head straight for his bed, not even bothering to take off his suit.
But despite the dim lighting and the comfort of sinking into his mattress, sleep refused to come. He tossed and turned, tried counting sheep, but nothing worked. Frustrated, he sat up, turning on the radio to a soft, quiet tune as he stared at his phone.
He already knew what was on his mind.
His gaze settled on his contact list, focusing on one name—yours.
He missed you, more than he cared to admit. His eyes lingered on your icon, a picture he’d secretly taken during one of your dates. You’d demanded he delete it, but he never did. Instead, he kept it as a reminder of you, proudly showing it off whenever he got the chance.
A small, bittersweet smile crept onto his lips as his eyes trailed down to your name, the ache in his chest growing a little heavier.
My Love. He never bothered changing it—that name was reserved for you, and only you. Was it strange for him to keep it that way? He wasn't sure, but what he did know was that no matter what, you’d always be his love, even if he was the only one who still believed it.
Should he call you again?
His finger hovered over your name, hesitating—a rare feeling for him. He’d always called before, whenever he had a free moment. It was supposed to be a one-time thing, just a way to clear his head, but it had become a habit. Strangely enough, he found relief in those calls. They always went straight to voicemail, and he was certain you never listened to them.
That’s where he poured his heart out, leaving messages that no one would hear. It was sad, but in a way, comforting—like shouting into the void, knowing there'd be no echo, no response.
He often wondered why you hadn’t blocked him yet. Maybe, if you did, it would finally force him to move on.
Maybe that would give him the push he needed to let go.
But deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple. He was the one holding onto the past, the one clinging to old habits. Why did he think calling you, of all things, would help him get over you? Even if someone asked him, he wouldn’t know how to explain it.
Maybe he didn’t really want to.
Maybe, just maybe, he was still hoping for something—anything—from you.
He just wanted to hear your voice again, even though it felt impossible at this point. Pressing his lips together, he finally tapped the call button. Placing the phone on his thigh, Jake ran a hand through his hair, unable to look at the screen as the rings buzzed in the quiet room.
As usual, he fully expected you wouldn’t answer.
Normally, the sting of disappointment would hit him when you let his calls go unanswered, but tonight felt different. Tonight, everything was going to change.
This would be the last time he stared at your contact, the last time he pressed your number, and the last voicemail he'd leave. Tonight, he was finally going to say goodbye.
Tonight—
"Hello?"
His body went still.
For a moment, Jake couldn’t believe it. Your voice, so familiar yet distant, cut through the static of the call. He had rehearsed this moment over and over in his mind, but now that it was real, his words were trapped in his throat.
"Jake?" you repeated, sounding confused, maybe even concerned. "Are you there?"
He swallowed, trying to collect himself. "Hey," he finally managed, his voice barely a whisper. "I... I didn’t expect you to pick up."
There was a brief silence on the other end, making his heart race, before you spoke again. "I didn’t expect to get so many calls... or all the voicemails."
"You... you listened to them?" he asked, barely able to believe it.
“Caught up on all of it yesterday,” you admitted, your voice surprisingly calm. “You really sent a lot, huh?”
Jake’s heart was pounding so loudly that it drowned out his own thoughts. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The plan to say goodbye, the resolution he had built up in his mind, seemed to dissolve the moment he heard your voice.
He didn’t want to mess this up—he couldn’t.
“I still didn’t expect you to actually listen to them,” he said, his voice shakier than he wanted it to be.
“How could I not?” you chuckled softly, attempting to ease the awkward tension. It was strange, both of you knew it. Talking to your ex, someone you swore you’d never contact again, felt surreal.
And yet, here you were—on the phone, waiting for him to say something more.
Jake took a breath, the weight of his next words heavy on his chest. "I was planning on this being the last call,” he confessed. “Since you never really picked up... I figured I was just bothering you."
There was a pause on the other end, and he held his breath, wondering what you’d say next.
"Would it be wrong to say I had a feeling?" you finally replied, voice soft.
"How could you tell?"
"Just... a gut feeling," you said, as if searching for the right words. "Or maybe because… I knew you."
His heart couldn’t help but falter—he knew you were not lying. You did know him, deeply once. But that closeness had slipped away when life had led you down different paths.
"Yeah," was all he could muster, the simplicity of the word masking the storm of emotions within him. He wasn’t sure how to move forward, or if he even wanted to.
“Do you mean every single voice message?” you asked, breaking the silence that had settled between you two. Jake’s eyes widened, caught off guard by the question.
“Of course I do,” he replied, gripping his phone tightly, as if it could somehow bridge the distance between you. His heart was pounding; he needed to make this count. “There isn’t a single thing I’ve sent to you that I’d ever want to take back. Every word was real. It’s exactly how I feel about you... about us.”
For a moment, vulnerability hung between you, both knowing this conversation could change everything. Jake could only hope you’d feel it too, that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to turn this into something more.
“Come see me then.”
“Huh?” Jake’s breath hitched, unsure if he’d heard you right.
“You’re not going to leave me hanging this time, are you?” you asked with a light chuckle, though your voice held a hint of nervousness. You hoped the laughter would mask how your heart was pounding, racing in anticipation.
Jake barely registered the words before he was scrambling to grab his keys, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. “Not this time,” he stammered, his voice shaking with excitement and a touch of panic. He could feel his pulse hammering as he fumbled with his shoes, trying to keep his hands steady.
The thought of seeing you, of finally closing the distance he’d been feeling for so long, filled him with both anticipation and nervous energy.
"Take your time," you teased, though he could hear the faintest tremor in your voice, as if you were trying to calm yourself, too. But he knew he wouldn’t—couldn’t—wait.
He barely managed to lock his door, nearly tripping as he rushed down the stairs. His mind raced, playing over every word, every message he’d sent, wondering if this was finally his chance to make things right.
As he reached his car, hands fumbling for his keys, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus, to drive safely. But his heart wouldn’t slow, each beat pushing him forward with a desperate urgency.
Jake barely remembered the drive over, his mind racing faster than the car itself. As he pulled up in front of your house, he felt a fresh wave of nerves settle over him. He sat there for a second, gripping the steering wheel, trying to steady his breath.
This was it.
With a final deep breath, he stepped out of the car and walked up the path to your door, his heart pounding with every step. He hesitated before raising his hand to knock, his mind swirling with questions.
But before he could overthink it, the door swung open, and there you were, standing there in the soft glow of your porch light. For a split second, neither of you spoke, caught up in the quiet intensity of the moment.
“Hi,” you said softly, a small smile tugging at your lips, though he could see the same nervousness reflected in your eyes. “Still in your work attire?”
Jake looked down, realizing for the first time that he was still in his slightly rumpled shirt and loosened tie, his rushed appearance suddenly feeling a bit ridiculous. He let out a small, embarrassed laugh, reaching up to grab his tie as if he could somehow hide it from you. But when he looked back up, he wore a shy smile, his eyes creasing in that gentle way that had always made your heart skip.
Before he could say anything else, you stepped closer, reaching up to fix his tie, your fingers brushing against the fabric with a delicate touch that sent a shiver down his spine. He swallowed, feeling his pulse quicken. It was such a simple gesture, yet it felt like slipping back into something deeply familiar, a memory that had never truly faded.
“There,” you murmured softly as you adjusted the tie, smoothing out the collar. Your hand lingered for just a second longer, and in that moment, Jake felt everything—the unspoken words, the history, the quiet yearning.
“Thank you,” he managed, his voice a little rough.
"I didn’t realize you wanted to see me that badly… especially after just finishing your shift,” you said with a hint of surprise. “You’ve always loved your job.”
Jake let out a small, wistful laugh, meeting your gaze. “Even after a long shift, that isn’t enough to distract me from you,” he admitted. You both knew how deeply he was dedicated to his work, how it had once been the thing that drew him away from you, consuming his time and energy. Something he loved had taken his real love away from him. But he couldn’t dwell on regrets now, not when this chance was standing right in front of him.
“Every time I get back from work, I have to leave a voicemail,” he confessed quietly, his words hanging between you both.
“Every night?” you asked, startled. You hadn’t realized just how much he’d been reaching out in those messages, hadn’t counted the days it had spanned. “That’s… a lot, Jake.”
He nodded, his gaze steady and sincere. “There hasn’t been a single day I haven’t thought about you, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice raw with honesty.
You looked at him, noticing how he pressed his lips together, a nervous habit he’d never quite outgrown. His hair was neatly parted, and his suit fit him perfectly, accentuating the small changes time had brought to him. Somehow, he looked even better than you remembered—or maybe it was simply because you’d missed him more than you’d realized.
“Jake,” you murmured, almost as if testing his name again, letting it fill the space between you both. “I really missed you too.”
At your words, Jake’s face lit up, his cheeks lifting with a smile he couldn’t contain, no matter how hard he tried to keep his composure. He quickly looked away, clearing his throat, but when he turned back, his grin only grew wider as he saw your own smile mirroring his.
“Then… would you let me stay the night?” he asked softly, his voice hopeful, though almost immediately he seemed to second-guess himself. His smile faltered as he began to backpedal, a nervous laugh escaping. “Or, if that’s too much, we could just sit outside, or… in my car? Just to talk, to catch up—or maybe just to let me finally say all these things I’ve kept hidden.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, finding his nervous rambling unexpectedly endearing. It was hard to remember the last time you’d seen Jake like this—unsure, almost shy. Without another word, you reached out and grabbed his arm, gently tugging him inside.
“You can stay,” you said, a warmth in your voice that eased the lingering tension in the air.
Jake blinked in surprise, his nervous expression melting into something more tender as he stepped inside. The familiar warmth of your home wrapped around him, but it was the simple presence of you that truly eased him. He hadn’t realized how much he'd longed for this—just to be near you again.
As he looked at you, a quiet realization washed over him, clear and undeniable. He wasn’t just here because he needed to be; he was here because he wanted to be.
Wherever you were, that was where he wanted to be too.
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‘💬’ ─── may active soph come back after this one 😖!
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cherryheairt · 5 months ago
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Dragon Dreamer pt. III
tags: @beebeechaos
Daenys avoiding her problems per usual
all feedback appreciated <3, I'm unsure how I want to write this longterm, bc the two will have to separate after the wall scene and idk if people would want chapters with just Daenys and no cregan lol
also appearently cregan's actor tom taylor has heterochromia and i think green/blue eyes but for the life of my i cannot find a clear pic of it </3
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Daenys woke from her distant dreams only after the sun had risen. While still snowing and freezing outside, Morningstar had done well to warm the pair under her protective wing.
Cregan sat vigil all throughout the night, no complaints coming from the young lord as he did. Protecting the princess was simply a part of his many duties, he mused to himself sometime in the night while she whispered.
She blinked a few times, eyes heavy and body nearly numb. Though warm, she was still only clothed in house slippers and her night dress. A weight around her caught her attention, knowing that Morningstar couldn't wrap herself around Daenys like that.
"You awake, Princess?" A soft voice asked beside her.
Tilting her head up and squinting, "Cregan?" She whispered, voice horse from speaking all night.
"Good morrow, my lady," was all he said, that secret smile of his plastered on his face. She didn't know how to feel. A million things rushed to her mind; shame, humilation, frustration-
He interrupted her thoughts, shuffling to a crouch from his sitting position. Cregan offered her a hand, which she took without thinking. Leading them both out from under Morningstar, Cregan bowed his head respectfully to the she-dragon.
"She allowed you to come near us?" Daenys asked, in awe.
"Aye, I don't know why, exactly. I'm grateful for it, so I will not question a blessing." He told Daenys, reaching down to grab his sword that had been sitting on the snowbank for hours and shouldering it.
"Shall we break our fast, or would you like to sleep?" He turned to her, attentive grey eyes finding her violet ones.
Biting her cheek, she waited for the other shoe to drop. When would he demand answers from their night? Banish her from his house forever and ridding himself of the Velaryon girl.
"You should sleep, Lord Stark. I have kept you from it all night." She decided, looking at the tired expression pulling at his handsome face.
"Sleep often evades me with my duties, this is only another one. I would never sleep again if my Princess asked it of me." He told her, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "The day is new. Will you break fast with me?"
Daenys followed the lord into the dining hall. It was more active than the previous night, bustling with the activity of the Keep's servants. It only took a minute of sitting before their breakfast was in front of them, some light bread and oatmeal. Daenys greedily drank the cold water provided for her, the relief for her throat that had been burning the whole way to the Keep.
Cregan watched the display for a moment, smiling to himself before politely focusing on his food, not watching her pick at her breakfast like the previous night. "Do you want anything else? If you don't like the food, just tell me. No one will take offense, as long as you're fed."
"This is good." Daenys answered shortly. She took small bites of the oatmeal, pulling parts of the bread to slowly chew. She felt like her body was going through the motions completely on its own, her brain firing in a million different directions yet going nowhere at all.
"..Princess?" Cregan asked again, stirring her.
He had been talking for a while, she thought. Daenys hummed, gesturing for him to continue. His meal was done already, how much time had passed?
"I said I would like to take you to Castle Black, if you would allow me."
"The Wall?" Daenys furrowed her brow, placing her spoon into the half-full bowl.
"It would be a two week trip on horseback, and you can see what your predecessors witnessed all those years ago. A reminder of what the North protects the realm from."
In simple terms, he wanted to convince her to take the least amount of men to arms as possible. She was not dull. Perhaps he thought she was, just like the court men. He was talking like a Southerner, now. All hidden meanings and pretty half-truths. Disappointing, truly, Daenys liked the straightforward Stark better.
"I would not oppose a trip to see the Wall. It would be much faster on Morningstar, but I'm sure your council would oppose their lord doing such a thing." She said wryly. Daenys didn't want to become curt with the kind lord, but her displeasure with his words made itself clear in her tone
He grimaced slightly before straightening up, bowing his head politely. "I have some matters to attend to before we depart. I will have some things packed for you. For now, get some rest, we'll leave in the afternoon." He left quickly, and it was then that she noticed his fur coat was missing. She could make out his body shape now, no longer hidden and cloaked by the massive fur. When had he left them?
The weight on her own shoulders as she stood solved that question for her. The familiar brown furs surrounded her like a blanket, warm yet drowning. Was it bear? Or even wolf? Daenys wasn't sure, but her heart beated harder knowing that he had sat with her all night, keeping her safe and warm despite knowing her dragon was perfectly capable.
Daenys settled into her chambers, forgoing slipping under the furs already on her bed in exchange for the fur Cregan had provided her. It smelled like him, a deep wood and iron scent that might have been too strong and unfitting on anyone but the Warden himself. The comfort soothed her to sleep quicker than she had in many moons.
🗡
Strong hands guided Daenys through the courtyard of the Red Keep. Ser Harwin Strong, her mother's sworn protector, had become more of a protector for herself these past few moons.
When the nightmares started, the Red Keep was put ill at ease with the little girl, avoiding her like the plague. While most took after Queen Alicent, avoiding her and gossiping about how the girl must be a witch, condemning people to horrible fates with her predictions, the bolder ones like her uncle Aegon had done the opposite.
Harassments, taunts, planting some of Helena's bugs into her bed, even getting physical when no one was looking. Who would believe the mad girl besides her own mother? The prince, of course, never received any reprimanding or punishment. He always got away with everything, per usual. He had the Queen herself in his corner, who defended his vile behavior even when multiple servant girls came sobbing to the Queen's chambers.
Rhaenyra couldn't bare to watch her only daughter be so tormented, especially by her own family. She instructed Harwin to keep a close eye on her, as her escort and guardian around the keep. He had no qualms with this, of course. The girl was beloved by him and Rhaenyra deeply, though this coddling did not go unnoticed by the royal family.
Daenys' one credit as a child was her silver hair and purple hues, an image of her mother. Her brothers after her were not so lucky, born brown-eyed and brown-haired. Ser Harwin was said to be the sire of Rhaenyra's army of dragon-riding bastards, to the obliviousness of Daenys.
When she grew older, she realized that Alicent was right in that one thing. Harwin Strong undoubtedly fathered the boys. She was unclear about her own father, but Harwin's affections for her never differed from her brothers.
She found herself not minding. Ser Laenor claimed the children as his own and loved her mother as a dear companion. But Harwin's love for Rhaenyra was different than Laenor's. She saw the look in his eyes as he gazed upon the heir, filled with devotion and love unmatched by any other wed couple in the keep. Daenys had only seen such a love displayed by them. Even long after Harwin's death, when Rhaenyra remarried her uncle Daemon, Daenys never saw that look in another man's eyes.
Daemon's love was passionate but possessive. It scared Daenys slightly, but she was happy so long as her mother was safe.
This day, Daenys wished to watch her uncles and brothers training in the yard. Ser Criston Cole usually overlooked the boys' training, leaving much to be desired in terms of favoritism. Much like his Queen, Criston despised the bastard boys. Though the four trained together, Rhaenyra's sons usually only watched as Aegon and Aemond practiced with their wooden swords.
Harwin left Daenys at the steps after a gentle ruffle of her loose hair, where she quietly sat and observed. Glancing at a bench overseeing the yard, Daenys spotted King Viserys also overlooking the morning training.
Harwin spoke a few words to Ser Criston for a moment, inaudible to Daenys but clearly pissing the Dornish knight off. Cole intructed that the eldest boys be placed against each other, though it was unfair.
Harwin's protests were thus ignored by the kingsguard, Daenys perking in her seat to watch Aegon and Jace spar. Quite a poor match, seeing their age and skill difference.
Aegon easily beat Jace, knocking the sword from his hand but not giving his opponent any mercy, still stepping forward to attack the young boy.
Harwin grabbed Aegon in a firm hold, tossing him away from Jacaerys. "DON'T TOUCH ME!" Aegon screeched like a banshee, never being put in his place like that before. Spoiled brat.
Harwin scolded Cole, ignoring the eldest prince intentionally. After lifting Jace from the floor, Harwin glanced over the boy.
"Are you alright?"
Embarrassed, Jace only nodded with flushed cheeks and dusted himself off. "Thank you, Ser." He mumbled.
But Cole did not leave the matter, baiting the older knight. "You forget yourself, that is the prince." He said, a smirk on his tanned face.
"Is that what you teach, Cole? Cruelty." Harwin spat back, picking up the wooden swords from the dirt.
"Your interest in the princeling's training is quite unusual. Most men would only have that kind of devotion toward a cousin. Or a brother." He smiled brighter, "or a son."
Without skipping a beat, Harwin strong turned and swung at Cole's smug face. Again, and again until the man was on the floor and not fighting back.
Daenys stood and gasped, calling out towards her protector. "Ser Harwin!" she rushed forward, being stopped only by Jace and Luke, who could also only watch.
Harwin was dragged off of Cole, still spitting insults at the younger whilst the blood-covered man laughed as if he had won.
Aegon laughed loudly, now the loudest sound in the yard as both knights were escorted inside.
"Seems like the Strong bastards won't be so protected anymore." He snickered with Aemond at his side, loud enough for only the three to hear. Viserys took his leave, too, most likely to go settle the fight.
"We're not bastards!" Jacaerys yelled at him. Daenys and Lucerys were quiet behind him. Jace, though a year younger than Daenys, had taken the mantle of the protective one of the siblinge ever since Daenys had started getting shunned.
She was grateful for it, despite the nagging guilt she had for never defending herself or her little brothers.
"Just look at yourself, Lord Strong. Brown hair...pale skin..brown eyes. Perhaps Rhaenyra isn't your mother, either." Aegon said, earning a half-hearted laugh from Aemond beside him.
Ever the quiet of the two, Aemond faced his own bullying from Aegon and Daenys' brothers for being the only one of them to not claim a dragon. Typically, this made him stay out of any spats between Rhaenyra's children and Aegon, out of fear that he would be the next target.
Surprisingly, he even left Daenys alone. He spent much time with Helena, just as she did. They happened to spend a lot of time together in their youth because of their mutual bond, but they never gained a bond between themselves.
"You take that back!" Jace demanded, stepping foward and shoving at Aegon's chest. Being so much taller than Jacaerys, Aegon barely stepped back, only growing more amused.
"Jace.." Daenys urged behind him, tugging at his armor. "Let's go inside, I want to check on Ser Harwin."
Aegon turned to her now, "Its a mystery who your father might be. Ser Strong, Prince Daemon, Ser Laenor. I've even heard rumor of Rhaenyra having a tryst with Criston Cole at one time. Perhaps the cunt herself doesn't even know who your-" Aegon was abruptly cut off with a punch to his face so hard that he was sent to the floor. Shocked, he looked up expecting Jacaerys to have been the offender, but instead met the furious face of Daenys Velaryon. She didn't give him time to get up, punching and scratching at his pink face.
The other three stood stunned for a few moments, unsure if they wanted to let her continue or pry her off. Even Aemond stifled a laugh with a hand, turning away so Aegon couldn't notice.
Eventually Aegon grew out of his shock, easily throwing the younger girl off of him by her shoulders. Wiping his face, he stood and snarled down at Daenys, lifting a foot to kick at her while she was down, but was stopped and tackled by her two brothers. Now, Aemond choose to defend his older brother against the boys, albeit slightly reluctantly. The Pink Dread prank still heavily weighed on his mind every day.
Guards noticed at this point that the squabble of princes and the princess was no mere play fight, punches and kicks being thrown this way and that. The four of them seperated by forceful hands, given no time to walk themselves as they were dragged inside.
"Keep my mothers name out of your dirty mouth, līve!" She screamed behind her shoulder at the boy, who seemed shocked at the insult coming from her mouth. Jace and Luke, not versed in High Valyrion yet, didn't react, although she heard a snicker from Aemond as he was taken to Viserys with Aegon.
The other three were taken directly to Rhaenyra.
Rhaenyra, quietly resting on her settee with little Joffrey coddled up in her arms, was surprised to see all three of her eldest children in such a state. She stood immediately, "what happened?" She asked the guards, handing Joff to the wet nurse and gingerly cradling her children's bruised faces.
"The princess and princes got into an altercation in the yard. Ser Harwin and Cole have also been sent to the King for their actions." One said, before being dismissed by Rhaenyra.
"I want the truth of it, now." She sternly told them, stress furrowing her brows.
"Ser Harwin beat up Cole." Luke said first, giving no context.
"Because Cole called us bastards." Jace continued, clearing it.
Rhaenyra sighed, putting a hand over her stomach, which Daenys noticed became a habit during her pregnancies as a way to calm herself.
"If Harwin is the one who fought Cole, why are you three all bruised up?"
Daenys avoided her eyes, earning a lifted brow from her mother. Jace stepped in to help, "Aegon started it! He called you.." He seemed to pause now too, not wanting to shame his mother with Aegon's vileness.
The three shared glanced between themselves, not guilty for fighting Aegon but guilty for not defending their mother's honor better. "He called you a cunt. And implied dishonorable actions." Daenys told her, biting her cheek hard after. Her face hurt.
Rhaenyra only sighed, bringing her children to her side to embrace them all. She breathed in to start a surely long speech, but Harwin entering the room disrupted that plan. Daenys was grateful for it.
He closed the chamber doors behind himself, gold Lord Commander's cloak was no longer wrapped over his shoulders. His armor was also off, as if he was taking a leisure day.
"Harwin?" Rhaenyra spoke, confused as to why he was visiting in such a state.
"I am being assigned back to Harrenhall with my father. The King has let me go from my time as Lord Commander." Was his answer. Pretty words for 'fired' from his duty. Just for defending the princes and their mother.
Rhaenyra gasped, hand bringing itself once again to hover over her stomach. "For what offence?" She demanded. Her eyes were glossy with tears, but she could not let herself cry. Princesses do not cry over losing their guards.
Daenys knew then, that they were not merely protector and princess. They were husband and wife, in all but name. Harwin looked down at Rhaenyra with all the softness in the realm. "It is my own fault, I lost my temper." The two stood to the side for a minute, whispering amonst themselves. Daenys respectfully looked away, finding Jace staring them down intensely.
Harwin held Rhaenyra's face for only a moment, tender and bittersweet as they couldn't do anything more to say their goodbyes.
He turned to the children, "Luke, Jace. Keep up with your training, do not let Cole or the princes bully you out from improving. You will be fine knights." He smiled at them proudly, petting each of their heads and turning to Daenys.
Tears welled in her eyes, falling down her cheeks freely. She was not as strong as her mother, unable to control her feelings. "Ser.." She sobbed, barreling into his chest and burying her face into the tunic's material. Gently he held her, soothing her hair down from the mess it had became in the yard. "Don't fret, my dear girl. I will not be gone forever."
The smell of fire invaded her senses as he said that, a suffocating feeling enveloping her as she continued to cry. "I don't want you to leave at all." She told him.
"He must, we cannot change the will of the king." Rhaenyra said from behind her, rubbing her back soothingly. Harwin and Rhaenyra shared another heavy look, both knowing how much Daenys relied on Harwin.
Harwin had to break the princess off of him eventually, pressing a tender kiss to her temple as he did. "I will be a stranger when we meet again.' He told Rhaenyra, who only nodded and smiled solemnly at him.
Harwin Strong took his leave from the Red Keep that day, and never returned to his family.
Jace watched the man walk away, down the hall. "Is Harwin Strong my father?" He asked Rhaenyra stiffly. "Are we bastards?"
Rhaenyra swiftly looked around for any onlookers, relieved to find none. "You are Targaryens. That's what matters," she whispered firmly.
Daenys only stared at the space Harwin had once been, wishing things could stay the same forever.
"I am going to bed," she told her mother.
She wished she had not.
🗡
"My Lady?" The maid from yesterday evening woke Daenys from her deep sleep. Groggily she sat up, stretching out her stiff muscles. The cold affected her more than she thought. "Lord Stark is ready to depart. We have packed all the things you will need for the trip, I just need to get you ready."
Daenys was too tired to talk, only nodding along and allowing the older maid to dress her and do her hair. Pulled in a simple half-up braid, Daenys groaned at the thought of having to do her own braids while in the wilderness. The dress she was put in was a light blue, lined with white fur, softer than any she had felt before.
"All done, princess. He's waiting in the hall for you." She patted Daenys' shoulder in a motherly way, sending the girl off to the dining hall.
Daenys grabbed his fur coat before leaving, finding him standing in front of the hearth silently. He perked up when he spotted her, smiling almost instinctively. "Princess," he nodded. "Ready to leave?"
It was only then that she noticed a giant wolf at his feet, staring at her with bright blue eyes, contasting its brown fur. A direwolf, it must be. Tamed by the Stark? Their sigil seemed to ring true, just like the Targaryen's.
"As I'll ever be." She answered evenly, slightly looking forward to the trip. She'd never been on such a journey, only ever riding horseback for short distances and never once staying outside for more than a night. It would be interesting. "And who's this?"
"Dusk. He mostly stays outside, but I figured we could use his protection on our travels." Cregan gestured to the wolf. He seemed wild in most ways, Daenys would guess that he was when he was on his own, but Cregan being bonded to him and accustoming the animal to human domestication. Quite like the Targaryens and their dragons.
"I'm happy to have him, as long as he can get along with Morningstar." She smiled.
Hopefully she can find common ground with Lord Stark, gaining more men for the Queen.
Cregan offers Daenys his arm, which she takes as he guides her to their readied horses. "I picked out this one for you. He's a young stud, but he reminded me of Morningstar." Daenys felt her heart skip a beat when he said that, the thoughtfulness of the aftion making her smile brightly. She released his arm to pet the horse's snow-white face, greeting it.
"Thank you, my lord. He's beautiful." She said.
"Of course, princess." He kept his eyes on her a moment longer, before offering his hand again to help her mount. After adjusting herself on the saddle, Cregan mounted his own horse, a pretty chestnut mare.
Winterfell gave the two a cheerful goodbye parting, Daenys had to resist rolling her eyes. The same commonfolk who had gossiped about her yesterday were eagerly waving hankerchiefs at her and wishing their beloved princess well.
Cregan seemed amused by her stiff jaw as they walked past the gates. "Do you know what the folk call you?" He asked.
"I could think of a hundred names I've been called. None of them pleasent." She replied, eyeing him.
Above them, Morningstar glided gleefully, happy to be traveling again although she didn't know the destination.
Chuckling, he shook his head. "The Dragon Dreamer."
Stunned, she turns to look straight at him, finding his attention fully on her still.
"I..don't see why." She blushed. Never before had her visions been painted in a positive light of any kind.
"Northerners aren't so out of tune with the magic of this realm, as other kingdoms are. Have you ever heard of wargs?"
"A few times, in fairytales." She sniffed.
He nodded, "do you not believe in them?"
"Anything could be true. In a world where I ride a dragon, who am I to deny other types of magic?" She offered.
"Aye. My ancestors have dealt with magic since the first men. Stuff you wouldn't believe, out beyond the wall."
"What's beyond the wall?"
"Death."
🗡
alicent hightower you ARE the father
Līve - whore
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allwaswell16 · 1 month ago
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[4 pics, 4 quotes, 4 iconic 1D fics]
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Iconic Fics By...
- sadaveniren -
[1]
“You smell like strawberries. It’s why,” his voice sounded far away. “It’s why I texted you instead of my sister. I have her in my phone as Straw, and you’re in as Strawberries.”
“What?”
“She bleached her hair when she was like sixteen and I told her it looked like straw. Nickname stuck.” Louis pulled his head out of Harry’s neck and his eyes were glazed over.
“You have me in your phone as Strawberries?”
Louis nodded. “Always wondered if you tasted like them too. Your scent is so overpowering. Do you do it on purpose?” Harry’s eyes went wide as he watched, and then felt, Louis dip his head down and lick his neck. Louis hummed. “Not quite like what I was imagining.”
[2]
“A slew of boyfriends but nothing ever stuck. I’m single and ready to flamingle.”
Score, Louis thought, but he tried to keep it together. “Then I should take you down to the bar so you can find someone to play with.”
“I already know who I want to play with,” Harry said. “I wanted to play with you.” Louis’ stomach knotted up in excitement. “If you’re up for it, I mean.”
God, if only Harry knew.
Louis shifted in his seat, nodding as he spoke. “What are you looking for? I’m pretty flexible, myself.”
The room was suddenly charged as he felt Harry’s eyes sweep down his body from across the desk. Harry licked his lips and Louis shifted again. The electricity he remembered from years ago was still very much real.
[3]
“There would have been no need to have a war. I’ve told you. Me and Louis are just friends.”
Niall snorted, just like he always did. “Friends. You keep saying that word but I really don’t think you mean it.”
“Not this again,” Harry said, sinking his body deeper into the water.
“Listen, Harry, my prince. I’m going to be honest with you.”
“You haven’t stopped since finding out about Louis,” Harry muttered.
“Do you know the difference between friendship and infatuation? I’m not entirely sold. You’ve never been in love. You’ve never had a close friend.”
“Thank you for rubbing that in.”
[4]
“Okay, but if you’re setting my brother up with someone,” Lottie said, “it’s not just enough that this person is in the scene or whatever. He’s got that whole savior complex too. So it would need to be someone he’d want to help. And also he like only dates, I don’t even know. Brunets? Muscular?"
“He told me once when he was drunk that he’d climb James Bay like a tree,” Niall said.
They all went silent as they tried to mull this information over. They worked at the best toy company in the world, but they knew they weren’t Build-A-Bitch. Finding the perfect person would be nigh impossible. Especially considering how much Louis didn’t leave the office on a good week around this time of year.
The door to the meeting room swung open and Harry Styles, assistant to the CFO, stumbled in. “Sorry I’m late. I was cleaning up a scheduling problem. Someone booked the phone meeting with LA at the same time as the meeting with Sydney and trying to find a new time that would work for both was surprisingly difficult.”
Niall looked up and his eyes lit up.
Liam looked up and his eyebrows danced in delight.
Steve looked up and rubbed his chin in thought.
Bebe looked up and steepled her fingers under her chin.
Lottie looked up and immediately sighed as she saw the looks of the others in the room.
Zayn kept scrolling through his phone because he had already come to this conclusion the moment Niall had mentioned James Bay.
Answers below...
[1] Tastes like Strawberries
I’m stressed. I’m nesting and demand cuddles. Come over
Harry frowned and double checked who the text was from. Yup, it still said Louis - Grad, which meant it was from Louis from his grad school.
aka Louis texts Harry by mistake. It works out
[2] Salt and the Appetite
No Control is a No From Me By Harry Styles
I know this is probably a controversial opinion and review because I have only heard great things from people going to No Control before but I cannot recommend it to anyone. While the facility is nice, the people who work there do not seem to care for their clients well being, and I do not feel safe going there in any capacity. I suppose when I want to play next I will have to travel back down to London, or maybe, unfortunately, Liverpool. If I must.
Aka Harry, a popular BDSM blogger, writes a negative review about Louis’ club. Louis wants to have a chance to make it up to him.
[3] Just for Tonight (I can be yours)
Harry, prince of Cestrescir, has been betrothed to Ludvic, prince of Yorvik, since birth. He'd accepted a loveless marriage as his duty to his country, until an accident threw him in the path of a gentle alpha
[4] Santa Baby Honey
“Let’s cut right to the chase,” Niall said, loading the powerpoint, which was just one page, comprised of Louis’ face and the words How do you solve a problem like this asshole? “It’s the beginning of November and Louis is already being a fuckwit. How are we gonna have him knock that shit off this year?”
aka Louis is the CEO of a toy company and Christmas is a stressful time of year so his assistant decides the best way to make him chill out is by getting him laid through a Secret Santa
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taintedcigs · 2 years ago
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✦ POLAROIDS: part II | perv!eddie x reader ✦
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read part I HERE.
wc: 2.8k+
pairing: perv!eddie munson x (kinda perv)!reader
warnings: 18+ !!smut, smut smut!!, MINORS DNI!! or*l (male receiving), PERV!EDDIE, degrading!! panty-stealing perv!eddie. slight dubcon, dom!eddie, slight mean!dom!eddie, sub!reader, but kind of switch??, p in v, kind of a breeding kink, creampie, very very very brief choking kink if you squint, this is kind of dark so if this kind of stuff bothers u DO NOT READ!! i am not responsible for the media you decide to consume!!! JUST OVERALL FILTH MINORS DNI!!!
summary: you are determined to make eddie's fantasies about you come true.
authors note: i kinda hate the moodboard pics btw but they'll have to do... also idk if i like this a lot but i hope u guys enjoy it :(( and the ending is weird bc i didn't know how to write the ending im stupid okay, ily all thank u sm for the support on the first one hope yall enjoy it mwah xo, em💌
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'w-what?' eddie stuttered, he was always confident with you but now he was taken aback, his heart was pounding out of his chest.
and the way you were still standing in front of him with just a towel wrapped around your body was dizzying him, you were getting closer to him and blood was rushing to his cock again, aching to be touched by you.
'oh c'mon, eds. you don't think i'm that gullible, do you?' you hummed, and eddie gulped.
you took a step towards him, he was standing by your bed, and you couldn't help but giggle at his dumbfounded expressions.
'what did you think about?' you asked, innocently.
'i- i don't... i didn't...' he was still a stammering mess, you enjoyed it, but you needed him right where you wanted him.
'oh, c'mon eds, you mean to tell me you weren't thinking about me when you were jerking off? you weren't spilling your load into my panties as you moaned my name?' eddie almost coughed at your nonchalant words, you were being so open that he was about to cum in his pants, he needed to do something, say something, because you were driving him crazy.
'y-yes.' he almost groaned answering you, and you hummed sweetly, pressing your body against his. he lost all control when he felt your boobs pressed against his chest.
'what were you thinking about me?' you asked, looking up at him, all doe-eyed, and eddie's pants tightened from excitement.
'you were- you were on your knees.' his breath almost got caught in his throat.
'like this?' you hummed, going down on your knees, eyes never leaving his as you giggled.
he nodded quick, so quick that his head was about to snap.
'just like that, baby.' he was regaining his confidence as you stood in front of him, your eyes so innocently haunting that all he could think about was how much he wanted to ruin you.
'and what else was i doing?' you asked, your hands were quick to rub him through his pants as he hissed, his tip was still sensitive from when he came minutes ago.
eddie knew you would be the death of him, he realized that the moment he met you, but now it clicked in his head, each time you bent down in front of him, each down you brushed against his already hardened cock, you were doing it on purpose, you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.
and this caused a smirk out of him, he was more demanding when he next spoke, 'your pretty little mouth was wide open for me, begging, pleading for my cock.'
his words caused you to rub your thighs together, you knew how perverted eddie was, and for some twisted reason, this turned you on, made you want to tease him, further and further, till he couldn't stand it anymore.
your hands reached for his pants, to unbuckle him, to feel him, but he slapped them away quickly. 'nuh-uh princess, just keep that pretty little mouth open for me.' he ordered as you nodded, the dynamic between the two of you had shifted so quickly that it gave you a whiplash.
you had thought he would be putty in your hands but he was in control now.
he held your face with one hand while the other one was working to unbuckle his pants, his bulge could be seen through his boxers as your mouth watered, you always assumed eddie was packing, because of how big he felt when you sat on his lap, but now you could finally see it.
when he sprung his cock out from his boxers, your eyes widened. his cock was thick and hard, and his pink aching tip was dripping with his pre-cum, you licked your lips at the sight.
'need to taste you.' you whined.
he fisted your hair with one hand, causing you to look up at him again, the kiss he placed on your lips was sloppy and messy, he was eager, so eager that you could almost feel his cock ache as you started stroking him while he was distracted.
'do you wanna know what i thought about when i fucked my cock into your panties?' he asked, smirking.
you nodded almost groaning while your hand slowly rubbed him. 'i imagined you, on your knees, taking my cock like the good lil' girl you are. begging for me to fill your throat with my warm cum.'
'you want me to ruin you, pretty girl?' he murmured. 'fill you with my hard cock as you plead underneath me, want me to turn you into my little cockslut?'
he slipped his pink tip into your awaiting mouth, slowly gliding himself further until he was buried all the way down your throat.
he lowly groaned as he did so, his head thrown back from the pleasure, finally being able to have you right where he wanted.
finally getting to fill all your holes like he desired.
'f-fuck.' he whined, 'takin' my cock so well, such a good girl.' he praised and you felt your heat get wetter by his words, you needed him, and you needed his cock.
the way your mouth was wrapped around his aching cock was enough to make him want to shoot his cum right down your throat, it didn't matter if he had just spilled his load all over your panties, you were all of his desired wrapped up into one and just by looking at you felt his balls aching, wanting to release.
you blinked up at him, teary-eyed as you tried to take all of his cock in your mouth, you looked fucked out and eddie was enjoying every second of it.
as you finally adjusted to his size, you started licking and sucking, hollowing your cheeks as his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag a bit as eddie's grip on your hair tightened, letting out a moan.
's-shit sweetheart, you do that again and i might cum.' he muttered, 'and as much as i love seeing your mouth filled with my cock, i need to cum inside of you, fill you deep with my warm load.' he mocked as you looked up at him, your eyes glimmering as he said those words.
'look at you doll, so eager to have my cock inside of you, so eager to suck my cock, and you put those polaroids yourself...' he chuckled.
'if i knew you wanted me this fucking badly, i would've taken you a long time ago, sweetheart. would've made you mine, my own personal fucktoy.' he hummed at his own words, excitedly.
your head bobbed up and down as eddie threw his head back, groaning. 'that's it, baby. suck my cock like the good little whore you are.' he almost growled, the vibrations from the way you moaned while his cock was down your throat sent shivers down his spine.
he knew he wouldn't last long if you continued like this, he was barely holding himself from exploding down your throat.
'need you on the bed.' he demanded, you looked up confused. 'now.' he ordered again and you obeyed, getting up quickly as he whined at the empty feeling of your mouth leaving his cock.
'eds...' you murmured. his eyes were trained on you as you teasingly slid down the towel, so excruciatingly slow that eddie was about to roll his eyes, you finally dropped it with a small 'oops' and a giggle as you threw it at him.
eddie's eyes widened in shock, no matter how much in control he was, whatever you did always surprised him, he threw the towel aside as his eyes trained on your body, you felt exposed by the way eddie gazed at you, devouring you almost as he took every detail of your body, engraving it in his mind.
so that he could never, ever forget it. he almost fell on his knees when he got closer to you. 's-shit, pretty girl.' he groaned
'you're gonna be the fuckin' death of me.' he cursed. 'perfect, perfect fuckin' tits, sweetheart, so fuckin' perfect for suckin' and nibbling' his words were slurred now as his hands massaged your breasts, you whined at his touch.
you slowly took of your panties when he did so, holding it out for him when his attention shifted to you.
he grabbed them quickly but he was overstimulated by your body, he groaned again as his gaze shifted towards your pussy, 'can't wait to taste this sweet little cunt, fill it to the brim.' he gave your cunt a tight pinch making you whine.
he guided you toward the bed, plopping next to you as he started rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit, gentle at first before slapping it, a yelp of surprise escaped your lips as you whined.
's'fuckin' whiny for someone who was beggin' for this, hmm?' he hummed mockingly, he stuffed the jizz covered panties in your mouth, muffling your whining.
'taste it, baby, taste my fuckin' cum, i'm going to fill you so deep when we're done, you'll never get it out of you.' you moaned with his words, his still warm cum entered your tastebuds as he sickly watched, his cock ready to release at the sight.
his palm was heavy against your pussy as he slapped it, again and again, not stopping until he was sure you were dripping down your thighs.
you were shaking and you could feel your cunt throbbing, because of eddie.
who gave you pain and pleasure in an equal measure, you needed him and you needed him now.
'such a good girl for me, takin' it all so well.' he hummed as his fingers entered your folds without resistance, 'hmm, all ready for me.' you nod at him, approvingly.
'need you, eds. need you inside of me.' you murmur. he almost mocks you as he chuckles, 'my lil' cock slut, so eager to have me filling all of your holes, don't worry pretty girl, i'll fill all of them and i will make sure they are covered with my cum, always.' he presses a sloppy kiss to your neck.
then he strokes your bare pussy with the head of his cock, dragging it up and down your slit, the angry pink-tip of his cock is leaking with pre-cum while your juices mixes with his, he groans, 'gonna fuckin' ruin you, gonna make you my personal little cum dump.'
his words are filthy, so filthy that you know you are just as sick as him by the way they turn you on.
'ple- please, eds.' you're mumbling now, the way his tip teases your pussy lips is too much for you to handle, you are desperate.
your pleadings don't stop, eddie decides he finally had enough teasing as he slowly pushes the tip of his thick cock inside of you, he doesn't move much, teasing further as he withdraws himself until only the head of his girthy cock was inside of you.
you whine, your begging is getting louder now, and eddie gives you a smirk. 'such a tight fuckin' cunt.' he curses under his breath.
then, without any warning, eddie suddenly slams into you with a merciless thrust. his one hand fists your hair as the other caresses your breasts, as he bottoms out with each downward stroke.
he's so gentle but rough with you that it dizzies you, the way his cock is hitting all the right places causes loud moans out of your swollen lips, your eyes are rolled back as eddie is as loud as you imagined him to be, he is grunting, lowly groaning as he twists his face.
whenever you moan out his name, his pace gets faster, and his skin slaps roughly against yours, then his groans get more animalistic, it makes you want to repeat his name like a mantra.
'you still got that polaroid of yours?' he asks, his thrusts are sloppy now, you nod quickly, 'bedside drawer.' you manage to get out between your moans, and eddie reaches over, smirking as he grabs the polaroid.
'f-fuck, need to fuckin' engrave this memory in my mind, make sure i have it always with me. i always wanna see the way you look s'fucked out beneath me, pleading for my cock, lookin' all pretty as you moan out my name. need to show everyone that you're mine, my pretty girl, my lil' cock slut, my own personal fucktoy, my princess, all fuckin' mine.' his eyes darken when he emphasizes how you are his.
'f-fuck. yes please.' you lowly groan, your eyes are locked with his, 'i'm yours eds, i'm all yours.' you murmur, a smile plastered on your face.
'you agree with me so easily, pretty girl.' he almost chuckles, a grin on his face. 'when i say you'll be mine, i mean it.' his face is serious now.
'it means you're mine. your pretty lil' tits are mine.' he says as he traces his ringed fingers along your nipples, 'that pretty lil' mouth is mine.' his fingers travel up to your lips, and you open your mouth instinctively as you suck on them, the taste of metal and your juice engulfs your senses, you groan at the feeling.
eddie can't help but let out a guttural moan at your actions, he sheats his cock further as he curses, 'this tight lil' cunt, it will be mine, and only mine, princess.' his words are rough.
'd'you understand?' he asks, his voice is serious, you can't help but nod, you are ready to give him all of you, to ruin, to take, to have.
'tell me, tell me who you belong to.' he urges, and his cock is in and out of you so fast and rough as it sends a shiver down your spine, you can barely comprehend anything.
''m yours, eds, i'm all yours.' you let out between your desperate whines, he smiles proudly.
'good girl.' he murmurs, placing a kiss on your nipple, sucking and nibbling. 'my good fuckin' girl. don't fuckin' move.' he orders.
his hand picks up the polaroid camera, positioning it in his face as his other hand has a tight grip on your throat, your eyes are rolled back as eddie's thrust are still fast, he watches himself slip in and out of you with glory.
snap.
you barely notice the flash because of how fucked out you are, eddie smirks as the camera chews out the photo, and he shakes it as he waits for it to develop.
another smirk engulfs on his face as he admires the picture, it's so much better than the ones you took for him.
snap.
another picture, but this time his hand is squeezing your left boob, and he puts both of the pictures aside.
'my pretty girl.' he murmurs as he presses a kiss to your shoulder.
'eddie!' you yelp out, his cock hitting deeper and deeper, stretching you open fully, and you weren't sure if you could handle it anymore.
'need to cum, need to cum.' you moaned, pathetically. 'that's it pretty girl, cum for me.' he urged you to do so, he was close as well.
he reassures and encourages you to cum, he is kissing your neck, and playing with your nipples, you are whining, pleading, begging, it is so desperate, so beautiful to eddie, to have you like this in front of him.
and with the final confirmation from eddie you fall apart beneath him, breaking into a million pieces around his cock.
'gonna fuckin' ruin this cunt, make it mine, fill it with my warm load, just like you wanted, princess.' he has that sick grin again.
'gonna fill you so fuckin' deep that you'll never fuckin' get it out of you.' his words make your cunt ache.
'p-please, eds, want your cum.' you beg, almost. and with your final begging eddie comes inside of you with an animalistic groan, biting into the flesh of your neck.
despite having jerked off minutes ago, he is pumping an impressive amount of his load into you, you can feel his cock throbbing and his balls emptying inside of you.
he collapses on top of you the second he's finished, both of you trying to catch a breath.
once he does, he quickly gets up, making you whine.
'where are you going?' you ask innocently, as if the man in front of you didn't just fuck you into oblivion.
'we-' he corrects you, '-are going to the kitchen, i'm gonna bend you over the counter, and fuck you till all that pretty lil' head of yours will be filled with thoughts about my cock, ruining you, stretching you open.'
'we need more polaroids.' he grins.
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❥ all the pretty ppl who wanted to be tagged mwah: @jordanwalkersworld @spenciesprincess @emmalee-01 @dumbslxtclub @tlclick73 @cherrrygirl @upside-down-angel @sebastiansstanswhore
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johnwickb1tsch · 3 months ago
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The Girl Next Door - XII
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A Constantine x FemVampire!Reader (feat John Wick!) fic based on this imagine. all chapters gen. warnings: NSFW, blood, biting, violence divider by animatedglittergraphics-n-more 3rd pic is BRZRKR #2 cover variant 😍
⚠Trigger warning: dash of noncon, if that squicks you DO NOT READ!⚠
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12. the serpent deceived me
It’s been a while, since you’ve had a migraine. 
It seems like tonight’s your night. 
Groggily you attempt to open eyelids that feel as though they’re made of lead. The room spins at first, and you try to hold your head in an attempt to put things back in their proper place. You are prevented from doing this, however, because your hands are bound over your head. With a snarl you pull at your restraints, metal manacles biting into your wrists, rattling chains bolted securely into a stone wall. You cannot budge them.  
You look around in a panic, and realize you are in a cave. Candles in wrought iron sconces and on various flat surfaces light the cavernous space. It looks lived in. There’s furniture, a table, chairs, even books, like this is someone’s subterranean retreat–mixed with a dungeon. 
“At last, look who’s awake.” 
With fangs bared you turn towards the familiar sardonic sound. “You…”
It’s about all you can think to say at first, as you behold don Juan sprawled in a throne of a chair across the room, his legs crossed and his beautiful mouth pulled in a satisfied smirk. He looks good enough to eat, in a billowing white shirt unbuttoned at his throat, his slender legs encased in leather boots up to his knees. He looks like he’s stepped out of a different century, and you vaguely wonder if older vampires wear the trappings of their time out of nostalgia, or like a security blanket against a modern world they hardly recognize. 
“Where’s Chas?” you demand, looking around. 
“Who?”
You bare your teeth, hissing, “The boy. Our friend.” 
Juan shrugs, smirking, and you hate him so very much in that moment. “I wouldn’t know.” 
Your mind flips through all the horrible scenarios of what could have happened to Chas. Was he dead in an alley? Or did they just take his fucking hat to bait you? You realize this monster does not care, and will not tell you. 
The next question you dread the answer to is: “Where’s John?”
“Which one?” asks the vampire with a cruel delight, looking back over his shoulder. 
Your heart filled with dread, you look past him into the shadows across the room, to find John Wick bound in a similar fashion to you, his wrists in manacles, his shirt in tatters and his torso covered in blood. He’s unconscious, hanging from the wall, and with a sinking feeling you wonder how the hell they managed to pull that off. What did they do to him?
“Thank you, by the way, for sending him marching right into my trap. He’s a bit of a blunt instrument, isn’t he? So predictable, the lot of you.” 
“What?”
The old vampire scoffs. “Did you really think you were going to nose around without me knowing? You, so freshly dead that I can still taste the sunshine on your skin? I felt you snooping from a mile away.”
You purse your lips, frustrated, mostly with yourself. You’d thought you were being careful. Turns out you still have a lot to learn. It might not matter, if you can’t figure out how to get out of these damned restraints…
“Um. Yeah, kind of,” you admit, pulling on your manacles again.  
He laughs at you, a malevolent, diabolical sound that grates you to the marrow of your bones. God, but you really do hate him. 
“He killed a great deal of my vampires though. I do not appreciate being forced underground.” You can sense there are other vampires around, lurking in the shadows. It feels like he still has plenty of minions to do his bidding. 
“Sucks to be you.”
“We’ll see who sucks who.” He stands from his seat, raking you up and down with a look that leaves you feeling decidedly unclean. “You are cute. I will give your suitors that.” 
You frown, unsure how he knows you have more than one…but then, maybe from now on you should just assume this snake knows everything. He’s far too clever. What chance did any of you have, against a thing that’s lived as long as he has? You sag in your chains in your despair, feeling helpless and stupid. Your only hope is that Constantine is still out there…but you realize that you hope he focuses on saving the world, rather than saving you. 
“Oh,” says Juan with false lament, pursing his lips in a pout that should look ridiculous on a grown man, but somehow…why is he so fucking beautiful? But you know it is like the serpents of the jungle; the ones most pleasing to the eye will prove the most deadly. “Giving up so soon? That’s no fun, the games have only just begun!”
You glare at him, for what it’s worth. “Why…would Hell on Earth seem like fun to you?”
He shrugs, approaching you with slow, deliberate steps, a predator stalking his prey. “The High Table has made life…untenable for my liking. It’s time to put them in their place.”  
“You’re crazy.” 
Before you can blink he’s standing before you, delivering a backhanded slap that rocks your head sideways into the stone. “You are a mere child, compared to the years I have lived. Do not question things you cannot understand.” 
You taste blood in your mouth, and you know it paints your smile red. “And, you’re a huge asshole.” 
He laughs, pinching your chin between two fingers in a vice-like grip. “That, I will give you, querida. But if you behave yourself…” He steps in so that there’s barely a hair’s breadth between you. “You may have a seat at my side, rather than in the fiery pit.” 
Still, you shake your head. “What makes you think you can keep the son of Satan to his word, once he has taken over here?”
“Not to worry, corderita,” he says with a mocking gentleness, his long finger caressing the curve of your cheek. “I’ve taken that into account too. He’s not so all-powerful as The Book would have you believe.” 
You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re going to double-cross the devil’s son once you get what you want out of him, aren’t you?” 
This pulls an oily chuckle from the older vampire’s lips. “Now you’re getting it,” he whispers. “A few more hundred years, niña, and you just might be dangerous.”
The hubris of this man is staggering, and fear seethes in your belly like angry snakes. There are so many ways all this could go wrong, and the whole world is at stake… But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care, because he truly believes it all belongs to him. 
“And what if…he’s planning on double-crossing you?”
Juan huffs with laughter, his eyes upon your lips, his finger under your chin tilting your head just so. “I will burn that bridge when I get to it.” 
He leans in to kiss you, and that is when an unearthly growl fills the cavern, a voice like the grating of ancient stones demanding, “Get. Off. Of her.”
Don Juan smiles wide enough to flash his fangs at you, anticipation sparkling in his high-polished onyx orbs. You realize he’s been waiting for this moment all along.
“Finally, the dumb beast is awake.” 
John Wick strains at his chains, the impressive muscles corded in his arms and chest rippling, his eyes glowing that unearthly blue. You know you’re an idiot, but you can’t help but stare, moved to your toes by the deadly magnificence of him.   
“Let her go,” Wick warns again, and there is a charge in the air, like a growing storm. It raises the gooseflesh all down your arms. 
Juan positions himself so Wick can get a better view. “My spies told me you’d taken a liking to her. You really think she’s your dead wife reborn?”
Wick growls in answer. “She is mine.”
Juan grins at that, looking between the two of you trussed like Christmas turkeys. “That’s not how it looks from here, cabrón.” 
Faster than the eye can follow, Juan tears your dress right down the middle, exposing you from head to toe. It’s stupid, but you scream, surprised by this violation that you suspect, deep down, will prove laughingly minor compared to what’s coming. Wick roars, and Juan savors it like his favorite candy, laughing wickedly. 
“I can’t fault your taste, dhampir, I will give you that,” he says, before grabbing you by the hair and slanting his mouth over yours. You struggle, of course, but it does you no good. He doesn’t even have to use that staggering mind-fuckery from earlier in the club. He just has you, and all your undead strength will do you no good against a creature as old as him. He pins you with that lithe body against the wall, so strong that he too may as well be made of stone. 
Wick seethes and snarls like a caged bear, and don Juan just grins. “I once kept a werewolf captive there in those chains for fifty years,” muses the vampire to you conversationally. “He won't be getting out.”
Greedily he runs his hands over your body, squeezing your breasts and tracing the lace of your bra with his thumbs, pinching your nipples cruelly through the soft fabric. Your body betrays you with a jolt of sickly sweet pleasure sent straight to your loins. 
Furious, you scream, trying to squirm and buck him off but to no avail. You’re not sure what’s worse–the way he touches you, or the way he laughs at your futile resistance, your complete lack of power in his clutches. He ignores the thunderous uproar behind him, feeding off the sound of Wick’s fury, delighting in both of your pain. You catch a glance of the dhampir over Juan’s shoulder, and you think that maybe don Juan is a fool trust in just those iron chains. Are the eye bolts wiggling loose from the wall? An eerie blue light is filling the room, and not just from Wick’s eyes. It is as though it is emanating from his very pores, and you find the thought of him unleashed scares you as much as it gives you just a sliver of hope. 
Engrossed in his distraction, Juan’s hand runs down the curve of your spine, disappearing into the back of your underwear, squeezing your ass then probing lower. “Mmm. I knew you’d have a perfect little coño,” he hisses in your ear, nipping at your earlobe as he teases your treacherously wet little hole. 
“I hate you,” you answer through gritted teeth, bloody tears streaming from your eyes. 
“Good,” Juan answers glibly. “It makes the victory all the sweeter, darling. But you may as well get used to it. I’m going to make you my pretty little muñequita before we’re through, and I will fuck you in front of your stupid pinche pain-in-my-ass boyfriends whenever I feel like.”
 He kisses you again hard, his mouth trailing to the curve of your neck. Wick continues to snarl, and over Juan’s shoulder, through the glaze of your tears you see that the dhampir is damn close to actually breaking free, one of the bolts in the walls only precariously attached to the stone, and the other close behind. You feel Juan start to turn to look, and you know if you have any hope of getting out off there you have to keep Juan occupied.
You cannot hold him, so you use the only means available to you, wrapping your leg around his hip and sinking your teeth into his lower lip. 
Juan groans, surprised by your change of heart, but not questioning it in all his outsized ego. He leans into you, forgetting all about the dhampir in favor of the woman in front of him. His greedy hands roam your torso again, cupping your breast. 
“I knew you'd come around,” he gloats with a smirk, pressing his bloody mouth to yours. 
That is when the cavern fills with the blinding crackle of lightning, and the whole world goes blue.  
__________
*querida - dear *corderita - little lamb *niña - little girl *cabrón - derogatory term, like bastard, motherfucker, etc *coño - pussy *muñequita- little doll *pinche - fucking *wow i know a lot of dirty words in spanish i’m so sorry mother 😆
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crisisandcritters · 1 month ago
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Trying something new, writing a fanfic. Which is super out of my comfort zone. So I drew one of my fav scenes. If anyone is interested in it or wants some context for this pic, you can check it out here on ao3.
Or you can read the story below the cut.
Midnight. On the bridge. Come alone.
That was all the note said, scrawled in hurried handwriting on a scrap of paper slipped under Agata’s rundown apartment door. He had almost missed it, the white edge barely peeking out before it could vanish beneath the bookshelf. For a moment, he stared at it, his heart pounding.
This was it. What he’d been waiting for. Ever since he started mingling with the lions who ruled the black market, Agata had anticipated a sign like this. The Shishigumi—an infamous gang whose influence ran deep through the black market’s veins—wasn’t just a group; they were the group. Ruthless, powerful, untouchable.
He walked to the window, the city’s dim lights casting long shadows across the room, and began to get dressed. If his instincts were right, tonight wasn’t one of Free’s pranks. Tonight was his chance. The invitation he’d been waiting for—to finally be one of them.
But if the rumors whispered in the darkest corners of the Market were true, joining the Shishigumi was no simple task. The gang had one of the roughest reputations, known for being some of the meanest cats ever to prowl the shadows. Agata had once asked what someone had to do to become a full-fledged member. Free and Dope had joked, throwing out absurd ideas like stealing a tuft of the mayor’s tail fur or spending the night locked in a box underwater. Hino claimed they made you shave your mane and strut around like a lioness for the night. But no one ever gave a straight answer.
The only ones who stayed silent were Ibuki and Dolph. They said nothing and simply looked... sad. Agata shook his head at the memory. He must have been misremembering. The Shishigumi were ruthless, sure, but they took care of their own. Whatever the initiation entailed, it couldn’t be anything that bad. Could it?
He would be turning 20 this year and had been living independently since he was 17. He’d tried to lead an honest life, but nothing had ever truly satisfied him. Agata had always stood apart, both in appearance and demeanor. His imposing stature and dark fur made him a prominent presence, a natural leader in the eyes of others. But Agata didn’t want to lead. He never craved the spotlight, never wanted the burden of greatness. As a child, people had assumed his potential without ever bothering to know him.
What Agata wanted was more straightforward: to belong. Not to stand at the forefront, but to be part of something larger, something meaningful. He didn’t want glamour or glory. He felt most at ease when he was just another cog in the machine—not the one pulling the strings. And with the Shishigumi, he felt that sense of belonging. With them, he wasn’t an outlier.
Not to mention, he’d discovered he was surprisingly good at committing crimes. His dark fur turned out to be an asset, helping him blend into the shadows, and his strength made him a natural enforcer. He’d already assisted some of the guys on a few easy jobs, proving himself useful. In this world, no one looked to a criminal to lead. No one demanded greatness from someone who slinked around the edges of the black market. It was strange, but for the first time, Agata felt like he might have a chance at something that resembled a normal life.
Tonight, could be the night—the moment he solidified his place within the pride. He was sure he could handle whatever they threw at him. Whatever it took to become one of them.
As the clock crept closer to midnight, Agata made his way to the bridge Dolph had pointed out months ago. The older, scarred lion’s words echoed in his mind: Anything important, anything that needed to be handled, would be dealt with there. The night was unnervingly quiet, as if the world itself held its breath in anticipation. Even the wind seemed to still, heightening the tension in the air. The clouds hung low in the sky casting grand shadows across the river. Every fiber of Agata’s being was on high alert, his whiskers twitched, and his claws started to extend on their own. The low hum of an approaching engine broke the silence, drawing Agata’s attention. His ears turned straining to catch the sound as it grew louder. A car’s headlights suddenly cut through the darkness, blinding him. Squinting, he barely had time to react as several large, shadowy figures leapt from the vehicle and surrounded him.
Instinctively, Agata raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, hoping to signal that he meant no harm.
"Look at this cub, all dressed up like he belongs here," one of the larger lions sneered, stepping closer. His voice dripped with mockery as he shoved Agata hard. The blow caught him off guard, sending him stumbling straight into another lion’s chest.
"You lost, rookie?" the first lion jeered, his laugh echoing in the cold night air.
Agata barely had time to steady himself before rough paws grabbed him by the shoulders, spinning him around.
"He’s shaking already!" another lion crowed, his tone cruel and gleeful. "This one’s not gonna last five minutes!"
A sharp fist drove into Agata’s gut, the impact stealing his breath. He doubled over and crumpled to the ground, coughing and wheezing as pain blossomed in his ribs. Panic surged through him—his mind screamed that this wasn’t a prank, wasn’t a test. They were playing with him like a pack of hyenas toying with prey.
But then, clarity cut through the haze of fear. If he didn’t fight back, he wouldn’t survive the next five minutes.
A shadow loomed over him, and he glanced sideways just in time to see a foot arcing toward his head. Gritting his teeth, Agata rolled, the sole of the boot grazing the fur on his temple as it smashed into the ground where he’d just been.
Using the momentum of his roll, Agata scrambled to his feet, adrenaline drowning out the ache in his body. The harsh glare of the car’s headlights still blinded him, reducing the advancing lions to hulking silhouettes. He counted five—maybe six—but there could’ve been more.
The next lion lunged at him, swinging a heavy fist aimed at his jaw. This time, Agata was ready. He sidestepped the blow and brought his elbow up hard, driving it into the back of the lion’s head. The impact sent the attacker sprawling forward, and Agata pivoted, using the opening to deliver a sharp jab to another lion’s ribs.
For a brief, dizzying moment, he thought he might hold his ground. A surge of fierce determination coursed through him as he ducked and weaved, striking out whenever he saw an opening. His fists connected with fur and flesh, and the satisfying sound of a grunt told him he’d landed at least one solid hit.
But then, out of nowhere, a voice snarled, closer than it should’ve been:
"You don’t even know what you’re asking for, do you? This life’ll chew you up and spit you out."
Agata spun toward the voice, but too late. Pain exploded across the back of his head as something heavy—maybe a pipe or a baton—struck him with brutal force.
The world tilted. His vision swam, and his legs gave way beneath him. As he crumpled to the ground, the last thing he saw was the shifting blur of shadows circling above, the laughter of his attackers fading into the encroaching darkness.
And then, everything went black.
The first thing Agata noticed was the smell: old stone, damp with age, mingled with the acrid tang of stale cigarettes. It was enough to stir him back to consciousness. He groaned softly, his head pounding as he opened his eyes, only to be greeted by blurred shapes of tan and yellow swimming in his vision.
His cheek rested on something cold and unyielding—stone, maybe—and for a brief moment, his mind raced to piece together what had happened. The bridge. The lions. The fight.
Agata shot upright, his fur bristling, claws unsheathed, and instincts screaming. This time, he didn’t wait for a fight to come to him. He lashed out, swinging hard and landing a hit on the closest lion—a sharp blow above the eye.
But before he could follow through, a massive paw clamped down on the scruff of his neck. He yelped as a lion with thick dreads hauled him off his feet with effortless strength, disarming him in one swift motion.
"Look who’s finally awake," the dreadlocked lion rumbled, a toothy grin splitting his face.
"Aww, he’s like a little kitten," another lion teased, his tone dripping with mock sympathy.
"Miguel," a third chuckled, "I didn’t know you had such a motherly side. What’s next? Are you gonna start grooming him?"
Agata found himself surrounded, the pride of lions from the bridge and more closing in, their feline eyes gleaming with amusement and curiosity. They loomed over him, scrutinizing him now that he was conscious, the tension crackling in the air.
"Look, guys," Agata stammered, panic tightening his voice. "I don’t know what I did! I’m sorry! I’ll get out of town, I swear! You’ll never hear from me again—"
"Whoa, whoa, calm down, buddy," Free interrupted, stepping forward with an easy grin. "You didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, you put up one hell of a fight back there."
Agata blinked, his breath still coming fast. "What… what does that mean?"
"Sorry we had to rough you up," Free continued, his tone almost apologetic. "But we had to be sure. We can’t just let anyone join the Shishigumi."
"Wait, are you serious?" Agata swallowed hard as the lion with dreads finally set him down. His legs wobbled beneath him. "Does this mean… I’m in?"
Free tilted his head, a sly smile curling his lips. "Well… not quite."
Agata’s heart sank. "Huh?"
"Like I said," Free replied, "we can’t just let anyone join the group. There’s a process. Blood in, blood—"
A loud creak interrupted him. All heads turned toward the heavy double doors at the far end of the room. They groaned open slowly, the sound echoing in the still air.
Free and the other lions immediately backed away, their casual demeanor vanishing in an instant. Agata’s stomach churned as he followed their gazes to the doorway.
The lion who entered didn’t have the imposing stature one might expect from a leader. He walked with a pronounced limp, leaning heavily on a cane for support. His balding mane was slicked back with gel and grease, giving it a sickly sheen under the dim light. Two jagged scars slashed across his face, running dangerously close to his eyes—remnants of a fight that might’ve blinded a lesser predator.
But what he lacked in physical presence, he made up for in raw authority.
The moment he stepped into the room, silence fell like a guillotine. Every lion snapped to attention, their postures rigid and their gazes fixed straight ahead. All except for Agata.
Agata, the literal black sheep in the room, stuck out like a sore thumb. He was the only lion not dressed in a suit and tie, the only one bruised and battered from the earlier fight, and the only one whose stance betrayed his unease. He couldn’t help but stare as the older lion made his slow, deliberate way across the room, the rhythmic tap of his cane punctuating the stillness.
"When I was a cub," the older lion began, his voice low and gravelly, "lions were considered the Kings of Beasts. No creature dared interfere with our business… because they quickly became lunch."
He stopped directly in front of Agata, his piercing gaze boring into him. "But now, the world seems to disagree with the old ways. Lions are no longer feared as we once were." His lips curled into a faint, menacing smile. "However, there’s one thing no one can dispute—raw power. And that’s something we’ve always had and must continue to hold onto."
Before Agata could react, the boss grabbed his shirt and yanked it up in one swift motion, exposing his torso. He inspected Agata’s body with the detached air of someone evaluating a product, his fingers brushing over the younger lion’s ribs and shoulders. Then came the cane, tapping against his arms and back as though testing the sturdiness of newly purchased goods.
Agata froze, stunned into submission. His wide eyes darted around the room, searching for any reaction—any support—but the other lions stood motionless, their faces unreadable.
"Open your mouth," the boss commanded.
Agata hesitated, unsure if he’d heard correctly. The pause proved too long. The older lion stomped hard on Agata’s foot, and as the younger lion yelped in pain, the boss seized his opportunity. Fingers shot into Agata’s mouth, gripping his tongue and pulling it out as though inspecting a prize animal’s fangs. The probing was methodical, his rough fingers pressing against teeth and gums with a practiced precision.
Agata’s body locked in place, too shocked to resist.
The inspection ended as abruptly as it began. The older lion released him without ceremony, wiping his fingers on a handkerchief he produced from his pocket. "Hmph," he muttered under his breath, stepping back.
"A lion with a dark mane," he said, his voice dangerously soft, "is often considered a strong candidate for leadership." He leaned in close, his breath hot against Agata’s ear. "You’d do well to keep any ambitions… in check."
"Y-yes, sir," Agata stammered, nodding frantically.
The older lion’s mouth twisted into a cruel smile as he patted Agata’s cheek—a gesture that felt more like a warning than affection. Without another word, he turned and made his way to the table set at the far side of the room.
The tension in the air eased slightly as he lowered himself into the head chair, the creak of the wood seeming to signal that the worst was over. Agata dared to exhale, his nerves still jangling. But before relief could take hold, the boss motioned silently with his hand, and several lions immediately exited the room without explanation.
Whatever came next, Agata knew it wasn’t going to be good.
“The Shishigumi live by simple rules,” the Boss declared from his makeshift throne, his voice carrying the weight of an ancient decree. The other lions had begun to settle into their seats around him, a silent council of judgment, while Agata remained standing alone in the center of the room.
“Be loyal to the family, put the family first in all matters, and, of course, Blood in, Blood out.” He leaned forward slightly, his cane resting across his knees as his sharp gaze fixed on Agata. “That last one might sound confusing, but it’s quite straightfoward.”
The lions who had left earlier returned, this time carrying a large, covered cage. Its ominous silhouette sent a shiver down Agata’s spine.
“In order to leave the Shishigumi, blood must be spilled. Typically, your own.” The Boss smirked faintly; his words deliberate. “And to join the Shishigumi, blood still needs to be spilled. It’s a balance—one that separates us from the spineless and the unworthy.”
With a sharp tug, the cover was ripped away, revealing the cage’s occupant: a massive, hulking white bear. Its fur glistened under the dim light, giving it an almost spectral quality.
“If you want to prove yourself worthy of joining our ranks,” the Boss continued, his voice now a growl, “you must kill this bear. Spill its blood to be welcomed into the family. Show us that you can separate yourself from the weak-willed and pathetic creatures who dare still call themselves carnivores.”
For a moment, Agata couldn’t move. The lions had retreated to the table, watching him from behind a heavy steel gate that had risen from the floor, separating them from what was to come. The bear, however, remained eerily still within its cage.
The room was silent except for the low groan of metal as the cage door creaked open. Agata’s heart pounded in his chest as he stepped forward, his legs heavy as lead. He expected the bear to lunge at him, to fight for its life. But instead, he heard something that stopped him cold.
A whimper.
Frowning, Agata bent down for a closer look. His breath hitched as the truth dawned on him. The bear wasn’t the massive adult he had thought—it was just a teenager. And not even a polar bear. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was a white-furred grizzly—a rare find, but smaller and younger than any true predator should be.
He stumbled back, horrified, and turned toward the group of lions. The disbelief was written all over his face as he searched their expressions for an answer, for some kind of reassurance. Most averted their eyes, unwilling to meet his gaze. Free’s face twisted in self-loathing, his jaw clenched.
Only Dolph stared directly at him.
Dolph’s gaze was hard, unflinching, as if trying to speak a silent truth. This is the life we all chose, his eyes seemed to say. And now, this is the life you’re choosing. Commit to it, or run while you can. But understand one thing—you’re in the company of killers.
The weight of Dolph’s unspoken words sank into Agata’s chest like a stone.
He turned back toward the cage, steadying himself as the bear whimpered softly again. Agata clenched his fists, his heart warring against his mind. He knew this was a crossroads, the moment that would decide everything. The path before him was dark, but it was the only one left. He had to belong somewhere. If this was the price, so be it.
With trembling hands, he stepped forward and reached into the cage, grabbing the young bear by the throat. The creature struggled weakly, its wide, terrified eyes locking onto Agata’s. He forced himself to look away as he tightened his grip.
“I’m sorry,” Agata whispered, his voice barely audible.
He tried to make it quick, but the bear’s blood spilled all the same, gushing onto the cold floor in a pool of crimson. Agata watched the light fade from its eyes, his stomach lurching violently. He turned away just in time to suppress the bile rising in his throat, but he couldn’t stop the sickening weight that settled in his chest.
Something inside him broke.
It was like watching a piece of his soul evaporate, leaving behind a hollow, unrecognizable shell. This was his turning point, his blood baptism. There was no going back.
The Boss rose from his chair and approached, his slow, deliberate steps echoing in the silent room. He gestured toward the lifeless bear with his cane, then looked Agata in the eyes.
“This blood symbolizes your birth into our family. From this moment, we are one until death.”
Agata swallowed hard, his voice trembling but steady as he nodded solemnly.
“Yes, sir.”
The Boss smirked, clapping him on the shoulder. “Welcome to the Shishigumi.”
Agata said nothing, the weight of his choice pressing down on him. He had a new home, a new family… and a new darkness that would haunt him forever.
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albertasunrise · 1 year ago
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Reality Check - Oops Baby
Masterlist
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Summary: Being best friends with Frankie meant movie nights, drinks with the guys and a shoulder to cry on when you got your hear broken. He is head over heels for you but you don’t feel the same… yet a drunken mistake will tie your lives together forever!
Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader
Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+ (So... I am trying to update my other pics but the reaction I getting from this ones really giving me the motivation to continue it... so thank you and I hope you enjoy this update! ♥️ It's not a super long one but everything gonna become clear I promise!)
Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7
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“What do you mean I can’t see him right now?” You demanded, glancing down at Emse as you awaited a response from the doctor. 
“He has been in a natural coma for a month and a half. It's going to take him a while before he’s even a little coherent. We also want to monitor him closely over the next few hours. He might be awake but he’s not out of the woods yet!” The doctor stated plainly “I know you want to see him but overwhelming him this soon after he’s woken up and suffered a cardiac arrest is not going to help with his recovery.” The doctor continued, giving your arm a gentle squeeze “If all goes well, you can see him tomorrow.” 
You nodded to show your understanding and then looked at Ben. He looked as frustrated as you felt but you didn’t want to do anything that could risk his recovery. This was all just so difficult to get your head around. 
Your near-death from Esme’s birth, to waking up to learn Frankie had had another major heart attack and was on life support until a heart came available, had been hard to come to terms with. It had been hard to navigate parenthood without him but then it had probably been the same for him at first. 
But, as hard as this had been for you. How desperate you’d been for him to get better and wake up. It had hit Ben the hardest. 
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6 weeks earlier…
Ben opened the front door to Frank’s house and was immediately greeted by Emse’s screams. 
“Fish?” He called out as stepped into the dimly lit house. 
When he had received a text from Frankie earlier to say he’s broken up with Mary, Ben had initially been over the moon. But after he’d finished his celebrations, he thought he should probably check on Frankie. The man had cared for Mary after all. So that’s what led Ben to come over. And after knocking a few times a receiving no answer, he let himself in. Not something that was overly unusual. 
What was unusual was to receive no answer from the pilot and to hear Esme screaming. Fish had been a dedicated father from the moment he had brought her home. Something was wrong. 
“Fish?” He called again as he scaled the stairs, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of his friend. 
He came to a stop outside Frankie’s door, Esme’s screams were the loudest from inside and he didn’t even bother knocking. Either Frank was dead asleep or… 
He didn’t wanna consider the alternative. 
“FISH!!” He yelled upon finding his friend on the floor. 
Frankie was sprawled on the floor, on his front with his head to one side. Eyes barely open. Esmerelda was on the floor beside him however looked to be unharmed. Clearly, Frank had managed to put her down gently as he collapsed. 
Ben felt for a pulse and found one. It was weak but it was there. So, he scooped the baby up and lay her in the Moses basket in the corner before returning his attention to Fish, moving him so that he was laying on his back before pulling out his phone and dialling 911. 
He spoke as calmly to the operator as he could whilst monitoring the pilot’s pulse and breathing. Putting the phone on loudspeaker and starting compressions the moment Frankie stopped breathing. 
“Come on man… don’t do this to me.” Ben sobbed as he worked tirelessly to get his friend breathing again “Don’t leave Titch and Esme man…” Benny begged, “Don’t leave me!” 
Finally, just as the paramedics arrived, Frank took a weak breath and then the rest was a blur. Ben called Will and told him to get to the hospital before attending to the crying baby beside him. He didn’t go in the ambulance. He knew he needed to get Esme fed and changed first. But as soon as that was done he had the baby bag packed and he was gone. Praying he wouldn’t be greeted by the news that he’d lost his best friend. 
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Present day… 
Benny chewed nervously at his thumbnail as he waited for his friend to wake up. The doctors had lightly sedated him when he had grown more confused as he'd come to. That had been a little over twelve hours ago. Ben had waited at the hospital, sending you home with Esme and promising to ring you the moment he woke up. 
Then three hours ago he was finally allowed to see Fish. The doctors had decided that it would be good for him to see a friendly face as he came to. So He sat and waited patiently for his best friend to come to. His nails taking a beating from how on end his nerves were. 
A soft whimper grabbed his attention and Ben was on his feet in an instant, clutching Frankie's hand as he smiled sweetly at his waking companion. 
"You with my Fishcake?" He asked softly, grinning like a loon when Frank weakly nodded, his eyes cracking open and revealing slivers of those brown orbs Ben had missed so much "Take it easy buddy. I'm here."
Frankie lugged his way to consciousness. It felt like he was walking through treacle. His limbs were heavy and his head filled with cottonwool yet slowly but surely, things got lighter and clearer. Ben waited patiently at his side. Watching as he grew more and more aware as each minute slugged by. 
"Welcome back brother." He said as Frankie finally cracked his eyes open fully and rolled his head to look at him "You gave us a scare." 
"I..." Frankie trailed off as his brows drew together, the memories of what happened slithering back through. 
You, standing there smiling with your outstretched hand. Pleading for him to return to you. Then the lights. The blinding lights and the pain as the car struck him. He was going to see you again. He was supposed to die. 
The sound of his heart rate increasing made Benny call out for help, tears in his eyes as he feared that his friend might code again. 
"Mr Morales, you need to calm down." Urged the doctor as they noted his vitals "This isn't good for you." 
"Why." Frankie sobbed as he started to thrash in the bed "I should have died." 
"Fish, what do you-" 
"I was going to see her again." He sobbed. 
"Who, Mel?" Benny asked as he stepped to his friend's side and clutched his hand, hoping to ground his friend "Frankie, Mel's gone." 
"I was going to see Titch." He all but whispered "I was going back to her." 
This made Benny pause. His brows pulled together in confusion at what his friend had just said. What did he mean he was 'going back to her'?
"What do you mean Fish?" 
"Sir, I think you need to leave." The doctor urged, a nurse then pulling the man from the room so that the doctors could do their work. But he didn't leave the doorway of Frank's room. 
"Mr Morales, do you know where you are?" The doctor asked but Frankie didn't answer, he just continued to sob and his heart monitor continued to chime "Mr Morales, you're in the hospital." The doctor stated "You suffered a massive heart attack. You had a heart transplant but fell into a coma. You have been out for almost two months." 
"No... No, I was hit by a car." Frankie choked "I should have died... I... I wanted to see her again." 
Benny's heart broke as he listened to his friend. 
"You weren't hit by a car Mr Morales." The doctor urged, his head snapped to the nurse to his left and giving her a nod.
"You're lying." 
The nurse then injected something into Frankie's IV and the man's thrashing grew sluggish. Ben could see from where he was standing that his friend's eyes were starting to grow heavy and in a manner of seconds, the room was all most silent again. Slowly but surely the medical staff started to file out, the doctor stopping beside Ben with an unreadable expression on his face. 
Ben waited patiently for the man to speak, his heart pounding against his ribs as his eyes flitted between Fish and his doctor. 
"What happened Doc?" Ben asked, his voice soft and vulnerable. 
"He appears to be confused.' The doctor started "He... It seems that he experienced some sort of vivid dream when he was in his coma. He is convinced he was hit by a car." 
"What can we do?" 
"I think the best thing to do is keep him mildly sedated for now. Just to keep him calm until he gets his head around what actually happened to him." The man said as he scrapped a large hand over his stubbled jaw "He can't afford to get worked up like that again. His heart is still in a fragile state." 
"Do you think seeing his daughter might help?" Benny asked and the doctor nodded. 
"Sure. Anything positive like that should help him relax." 
Benny nodded, giving the doctor a weak smile as his eyes zoned in on his friend. 
"Thanks, doc."
"He'll be out for a few hours." The man said as he placed a friendly hand on Ben's arm "Get a coffee and something to eat. You're no good to him if you're not taking care of yourself." 
...
Your heart leapt out of your chest as your phone started to ring loudly from the table beside you. Noting Ben's name on the screen, you answered it immediately as your pulsed raced. 
"Ben?" 
"He woke up." 
"He did?" You choked as you covered your mouth with a shaky hand, trying to smother the sob that threatened to escape your lips. 
"He was all confused and shit. Got a bit worked up and they had to sedate him again." Ben said, his voice wobbling as he spoke "They wanna keep him mildly sedated for now. Something about keeping him calm as he comes around. I guess being on pause for nearly two months can screw your brain up a little." 
You chuckled at that. Your coma hasn't quite gone on that long but you had certainly been a little confused when you'd woken up. 
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Six weeks earlier... 
Your sensations returned in waves but everything sounded muffled and felt heavy. Your limbs seemed to be made of lead, your fingers were all that seemed to want to obey your commands. The sounds around you were distorted. Almost like you were hearing them from underwater. 
You managed to moan, hoping that it would give you a little more control over your body but alas you remained somewhat pinned in place, so you drifted to sleep again in the hopes that when you woke again things would be a little clearer. 
...
Benny had wanted to shout from the rooftops when you'd started to show signs of waking up. The past few days had been hell for him. He and Will had split their time between your room and Frankie's. Neither of them wanted to leave either party on their own and when you started to twitch and moan, Benny finally started to feel a semblance of hope. So he clung to that, along with your hand as he waited for you to open your eyes. 
That happened three hours later. 
"Ben?" Your question was more of a whisper but he heard it all the same. 
He placed Esme in her Pram and practically sprinted to your side, smiling sweetly at you as you blinked up at him. 
"Hey, you." He said sweetly "Have a nice nap?" 
"What happened?" You asked, your voice getting a little stronger but still scratching from weeks of disuse. 
Benny grabbed the water bottle from the side table and popped in the straw that had been sitting beside it. Then bringing it to you your lips, he cupped your head and helped you lift it so that you could take soothing sips of the tepid liquid. You held your hand up when you'd had your fill and Benny placed the bottle down with one hand as his other gently lay your head back against the pillow. 
"What happened?" You repeated and he sighed, how brow pulling together as he searched for the words.
"You uh... You haemorrhaged." He stated plainly "Pretty bad. It was touch and go for a bit but you fought... Small but mighty." He chuckled as his hand started to stroke your hair "You have been out for a few weeks but you needed the rest."
"Frankie and the baby okay?" This question made Ben's heart shatter. Standing he turned to the pram that was just out of your eye line and scooped up Esme, kissing her little nose when she started to fuss. 
"I got little Esme right here." Ben stated as he brought your daughter into view and you sobbed at the sight of her. A head of brown hair and the cutest little plump cheeks. 
"Oh, my angel." You choked as you press the button on your bed so that you were more upright, accepting your daughter into your waiting arms with a smile "Oh look at you." You cooed, memorising everything about her "You look just like your Papi." You chuckled as you looked at Ben and beamed "Where is Fish?" 
Ben's expression grew solemn again and there was no hiding it from you now. 
"Ben?... Where is Francisco?" You pushed and he sobbed. 
"He's um... He's here." 
"Where?" 
"Titch?" He pleaded but you needed an answer. 
"Benny... Tell me where he is!"
"He uh... He suffered a massive heart attack." Ben started, his eyes settling on Esme as she slept in your arms "They uh... They got him on life support. Waitin' for a heart." 
"No..." You trailed off, tears flowing freely as you looked down you your daughter, envious of how clueless she was to all this. 
"He'll die without one." 
"No." You sobbed harder, your head dropping as you screwed your eyes shut and let yourself fall apart "We were supposed to do this together." You cried "We were supposed to be a family." 
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Present day... 
You arrived at the hospital as soon as you could. You'd thrown a bag together for Esme, grabbed her pram and left, desperate to see Frankie awake. 
His room was empty when you arrived. You looked around, trying to catch sight of him but coming up blank. He must've gone to get coffee. You pushed Esme's pram into Franks's room, tucking it in the corner so it didn't get in the way and then you took your place at Frankie's side. You didn't have to wait long for him to wake. 
He was sluggish, his eyes fluttering open and closed for a while. The sedatives were making it hard for him to surface. 
"That's it, Frankie." You said softly as you squeezed his hand and smiled sweetly at him "Come back to me." 
This statement was like a bucket of ice water over Frankie's head. His head snapped towards you and his eyes filled with tears as he seemed to study every inch of your face. 
"Titch." He choked, blinking furiously in an attempt to keep himself awake and you nodded. 
"That's right, just come back to me my Frankie." 
"I tried." He choked and you grew confused "I'm so sorry Titch." He sobbed and you stepped back as a hand pulled you away from him "Why won't you leave me be." 
"Frankie-"
"Just leave me alone." He cried "Please..." 
You turned on your heel and practically sprinted towards the door, colliding with Ben's solid chest. He scooped Esme up with practised ease with one arm and led you out the room with the other, leaving the doctors and nurses to work Franky.
"He... I don't..." You can't find the words, too heartbroken to string a coherent sentence together so Ben just holds you till you calm down. Giving himself a chance to figure out how was going to tell you what he needed to. 
"Titch... There's uh... Well, there's something you should know." He said when your cries finally quietened "Fish he uh... Well, it seems like he experienced a pretty vivid dream in his coma." 
You looked up at him with a bemused expression, head tilting to one side as you waited for him to continue. 
"When he woke up, he was rambling about getting hit by a car." He continued "I guess that's what he'd dreamt just before he woke up." 
"What are you trying to tell me, Ben?" You pushed and Ben let out a long sigh as he looked down at Esme in his arm. 
"Frankie thinks you're uh... Well, he-"
"Spit it out, Ben." You grumbled, unable to take the suspense any longer. 
"He thinks you're dead." 
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Next
For updates follow @albertasunrise-ficsblog
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thrashkink-coven · 6 months ago
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Answering FAQs I get ab Lucifer and I
1. Are you godspoused?
A: Nope! Lucifer and I’s relationship might emulate some elements of god spousal, but the “label” I would use for our relationship is “devoted”. In the same way that people can have intimate relationships with their friends, I happen to have an intimate relationship with Lucifer. But I wouldn’t consider him to be my boyfriend or husband, for some reason the concept of that feels odd to me.
2. Does your irl partner know about your relationship with Lucifer?
A: Lol look at our room. Yes. It was my bf who got me my Lucifer ring :)) my bf is not a pagan but she is finds the whole thing interesting. My bf likes to hear about what I’m up to with Lucifer, and Lucifer absolutely adores hearing about my partner.
3. When did you first start seeing Lucifer intimately?
A: Probably about a year or so into our working relationship. I already did sex magic and things of the sort so he kinda just helped out. I immediately felt very connected and familiar with him when we first started working together. Over time we just got closer.
4. Have Lucifer and you ever argued?
A: Lucifer is very difficult to argue with because he’s really great at diffusing aggression and he loves to debate. He doesn’t back away from confrontation. Have we disagreed? Constantly. He loves to challenge me, even if only to test my convictions. But I wouldn’t say we’ve ever really “argued”. I don’t think he’s ever done anything that made me hold a grudge against him. There have only been like extremely minor instances of him crossing a boundary and he apologized profusely.
5. Does Lucifer get mad if you forget to give offerings?
A: I didn’t approach Lucifer looking for a deal or outcome, we have a contract but not a transactional one, so I’m not really “obligated” to give him offerings just like he’s not obligated to give me anything… because we didn’t make a business deal. If you approach a demon and ask for a promotion at work then you’ll probably be obligated to hold up whatever your end of the deal was. I kinda just… wanted to get to know Lucifer so that didn’t really apply.
Lucifer doesn’t particularly demand offerings, he makes requests but that’s only because he knows I like giving offerings. He has never gotten mad at me for not giving him things.
6: What are Lucifer’s pet peeves?
A: Hypocrisy and lack of accountability. If you’re not willing to admit you’re wrong sometimes you’re never going to be willing to learn better.
7. How do you start seeing a deity romantically or intimately?
A: 🤷‍♂️ idk. I didn’t really plan to get swept up by Lucifer it kinda just happened. one day a god went “I like this one I think I’ll keep him” and I’ve been winning ever since.
8. What does Lucifer look like to you?
A: Gorgeous 💕. no but to be real Lucifer doesn’t always appear to me as a human (serpent Lucifer has been v prevalent lately, that’s really cool). oftentimes he appears as a twinkling light or a place like a garden or river. When he does appear humanoid he usually has long, curly, gold or black hair depending on whether he’s the morning or the evening star. He’s always illuminated as if he’s standing in front of the sun. Sunlight shines through his hair. Similarly his eyes are either blue, or red depending. They’re sharp and intense like smouldering coals. He’s had many different shades of skin, and he usually appears male aligned with some feminine traits. He’s built strong. There have been occasions in dreams where he’s carried me around in one arm. If ever he has wings they are pearl white, six in total. He can be the size of a regular human or massive like a planet. If he’s wearing clothes he usually wears robes or very loose fitting fabrics, lots of jewelry. It sometimes appears like he’s wearing makeup. He likes to look elegant.
Here are a couple pics I found that kinda emulate him:
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It’s also worth noting that my Lucifer’s appearance is definitely most probably highly informed by my human partner. Their hair and facial features are somewhat similar.
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9. Has Lucifer ever scared you?
A: Honestly yes, not in the way that I thought I was in any danger, but I’ve seen how terrifying he can be. He’s never directed any aggression towards me, but I’ve seen him in his more warlike archetypes and I understand why he is often considered to be the King or Emperor of Hell. I’ve seen him get extremely protective and vengeful, which is a hard contrast to his usually very chillaxed vibe. The thing about Lucifer is that he doesn’t rage, he stews and simmers and festers and plots until he knows exactly how to destroy you.
10. What’s your favourite thing about Lucifer?
A: His patience and leadership. Dude is just so fucking good at explaining things and guiding you through concepts. Physically I would say his voice. His voice comes in this very low hum that’s just delicious to listen to, especially when he’s singing. like a really nice bass guitar. He also smells very great.
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superm4ks · 7 months ago
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max released his very own verstappie all-time win list, i must get your analysis 🔎
Omfg tastyyy ok heres Max's picks for his top 10 wins according to his latest red bulletin and transcribed by the awesome @tyrannosaurus-maxy , lets check if they feature in the verstappie rewatch
spain, 2016 ✅ mexico, 2018 ❌ ((analysis: a classic maxiel shootout that I wud have included if not for format limits and my pick of china, 2017. although very cunty of him to pick this as a crucial victory in his career, because it was a proper 'u wont win while I'm here' send off.)) austria, 2019 ✅ germany, 2019 ❌ ((analysis: ok I get it because that race was like .. netflix's drive to survive live action so to come out of it p1 is a classic max slay. also rip Hockenheim shout out to a real 1 u put the fear of god in those men fr)) 20th anniversary, 2020✅ france, 2021 ❌ ((analysis: entire 2021 season shud be its own verstappie rewatch lets keep it FRESH and TRUTHFUL howevr. I did go wid Emilia Romagna for my pick of the first wins because of what it represented ..dramaturgically. Like imagine the existential horror of knowing Verstappen has the car to challenge u in a classic f1 track on pure pace. Horrifying. But France did start to chip away at the 'average qualifier' myth in the culture and it did show rbr were willing to go freak for freak to dethrone Lewis. Looking back to it , it IS a champion drive from Max at such an early stage of his maiden wdc run, so makes sense it felt like that to him too.)) COTA, 2021 ✅, Spa, 2022 ✅ miami, 2023 ✅ , japan, 2023✅ 
Veredict: verstappie seal of approval. Some new insight particularly into COTA, 2021 which answered a few questions I had about the Silverstone crash and its consequences. Idk if yall ever saw pics of Max's lid after the crash, but the paint on the left side was completely scrapped off. Obvi we knew it the hit was serious enough from his radio, the general state of his car, how he looked climbing out of it, but I truly never expected him to share the full extent of the concussion. This isnt like the cramp or the like the bird he hit that one time, concussions are scary and uncomfortable and we still learning how to deal wid them in sport. Its an ongoing debate between medical responsibility and individual choice and that demands sensitivity and care and often lacks both. Because this time it involves Max and he didnt die, it now invites the worst people in the world to be purposely nasty and disingenuous in their interpretation of what he shared. But I think its important he told us. He shud not have to hide how much a crash like that impacted him, his title run, and what it meant to come out the other side a champion. I always said COTA 2021 is when he went from lil bro to big bro and now I'm sure he feels the same.
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jisungsspams · 2 years ago
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Perv. PJS
Warnings :Kinda dom!y/n. Dacryphilia if you squint. Name calling (maybe ? One use of slut.) Grinding. Non penetrative sex lol. Jisung is obsessed with you like It’s bad and he comes in his pants lol
NOT PROOFREAD
Author’s note: sorry if this is bad and cringe AHHHHH its my first story pls be kind 🙏🙏😞
Word count : around 1.5k
Mdni
Perv!Jisung who always snaps a pic whenever you are wearing a short skirt just so he can look at them later when he’s alone in his room.
Perv!Jisung who always make you sit in his lap just so he can feel your skin against his more.
Perv!Jisung who tries to steals your panties because he can control himself anymore but gets caught by you.
-« y/n… I swear this isn’t what you thi-»
-« You’re a fucking pervert Jisung. You’re so disgusting. »
He looked like he was on the verge of tears, yet his grip on your panty wasn’t relaxing. You scanned him and realized, he was growing hard. He was getting off to this.
-« You’re so nasty Jisung. Be honest, you fantasize about this every night uh ? »
you asked getting closer to him. He didn’t even dared to move, just letting you get closer to him. Even if he was way taller than you, he felt smaller than an mouse under your gaze. He couldn’t help it but, what you were saying made him even harder than he was by looking at your panties. His hand tried to cover his bulge but it was too late, you had already noticed how hard he was getting.
You, on the other hand, was loving his reactions, he’s so easy to mess with. Getting off to you calling him names.
-« You’re stupid or what ? Answer me asshole. »
You couldn’t believe your ears, he had whimpered. He was really enjoying this.
-« I… y/n please I’ll just leave if you want. »
He said looking at the ground.
In all honesty, he found this situation extremely hot. A quick glace into your eyes and the way you were looking at him so demanding… it was making him impossibly turned on. He hated his mind and how much effect you had on him.
-« Jisung. »
you grabbed his chin to emphasize your point, making him look at you in the eyes
-« I asked you two times already, answer me or I’ll slap you… but it’s not like you wouldn’t enjoy it, stupid perv. »
This was his breaking point. Warm tears started flooding his eyes and leaked on his cheeks. He felt like dying on the spot, he was almost coming undone in his pants. His eyes were screwed shut, not even daring to look at your disappointed gaze.
-« y/n please let me leave… I’ll never talk to you again-»
His words got caught in his throat, you had started licking his tears. You were enjoying this so much, he was crying like a baby because he was embarrassed.
As soon as he opened his eyes, a moan shamelessly escape his lips. You were looking at him so sensually and only then he realized, you were enjoying this, you wasn’t actually disgusted by him.
-« I didn’t asked you to leave… are you going to come in your pants like a stupid baby? »
You didn’t even waited for an answer to grab his chin down. He leaned in enough for your lips to brush. You smiled a bit because even in this situation, he was still so unsure of what to do. You even wondered if he had any experience at all.
Realizing he wasn’t going to kiss you first, you leaned to kiss him. It started really sweetly, almost as if none of you had experience in kissing but soon, he deepened the kiss. Jisung was so eager to kiss you, his hand quickly attaching to you and rooming your body as if it was the last time he saw you. You broke the kiss and looked at him in the eyes while trying to catch your breath. Jisung felt his entire body lit up as if a fire was growing inside of him. He could come just from touching you.
-« Jisung… don’t touch me. »
-« But y/n… why- »
You once again grabbed him by the chin and made him look at you, cutting his sentence short. Everything about him was so cute, the way he whimpered whenever you touched him, it made you want to break him.
-« You don’t deserve it. If you touch me one more time, I’m going to leave you and you’re going to have to take care of that with my panties. »
You grabbed his bulge, making him moan. You knew how much effect you had on him and you were going to play on it.
-« Get on the bed now. »
You pushed him down and got on top of him. He looked almost scared but really it was just anticipation. He didn’t knew what to do so he just kept looking at you impatiently. You started kissing him again and although Jisung tried to keep his hands to himself, he couldn’t. His hands quickly found themselves on your hips and he started grinding against you. His pleasure was through the roof, he couldn’t care about what you were saying or whatever, he was chasing his own high.
-« Jisung… stop ah- stop this. »
You looked at him but his entire demeanor had changed. His gaze wasn’t filled with shyness and fear anymore as if he finally realized what the situation was, it was filled with lust and need.
-« I can’t stop… I need you y/n. »
His voice was a tone lower than usual, filled with lust. It went straight to your core but you weren’t going to drop the dominant act so quickly. He had effect on you but you couldn’t let him get full of himself
-« If you really can’t stop, then you can get off like that. »
His movements stopped immediately. He looked at you with big puppy eyes, his usual shyness and cute manners coming back quickly, trying to convince you to let him explore you further.
-« y/n please I can’t get off just like that »
-« Yes you can, you’re almost there so and I don’t really care Jisung. You’re nothing but a stupid slut. »
As you were talking, you started grinding against the evident bulge in his pants. Maybe you were the actual pervert because you were enjoying his attempt at keeping his hands to himself to maybe get you to do more. Your lips quickly attached to one another. The kiss was heated and brief as he couldn’t help his moans. Instead you started kissing his jaw and neck. Soon enough, you found the special spot that made him whimper and move his hip up. Attacking that spot immediately after seeing his reaction, making Jisung start to feel dizzy.
Your movements were slow and you decided to set a almost cruel pace for the both of you. You were also turned on to an extent you never felt but you were never going to give him what he wanted. Jisung felt so close but your pace was just pure torture. He wanted to make you go faster but he knew you’ll stop if he touched you again
-« y/n… please let me- God- let me touch you. »
His face was almost distorted from pleasure, his moans and whimper leaving his mouth without shame. Quickly after saying this his hand came to your hair and grabbed it, making you look at him. You couldn’t hold the moan that emerged from your lips.
His facial expression’s weren’t as shy anymore, you could tell he had gained a weird burst of confidence by how you reacted. You knew you were going to cave in very soon, resisting Jisung is actually impossible. His sweet eyes yet sensual gaze made you tremble.
-« Drop the act y/n. I know you’re as close as me, go faster. »
He grabbed your hips and forced you to go faster. His change of behavior made you whimper. You didn’t expected him to take on this role due to his shy persona.
-« Jisung… y-you’re such… a whore»
You buried your head in his neck. Even with your clothes on, the friction felt so good that you felt a familiar knot forming in your stomach. His hands gripping you harder and your movements becoming quicker, you could tell the both of you were so close.
-« If I’m a whore then you’re… f-fuck… the biggest slut ever. You’re close… right. »
Jisung movements became faster, not caring about anything but chasing his own high. He wasn’t fucking you but he could almost imagine how sweet you tasted and how you’ll wrap around his length.
His words, his tone and the lust in his voice was driving you insane. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your high growing closer.
-« Y/n… I’ll fuck you so hard… you’re not going to walk for at least a week. »
-« Fuck… you don’t know how long… I’ve been waiting for this. »
He couldn’t stop even if he wanted, he was to infactued with you. He almost felt like he could die just from looking at you.
One last nibbling at his neck and he was send over the edge. Throwing his head back and coming undo in his pants. Not even seconds after, you also came.
Not moving for a few seconds to catch your breaths, you turned around and looked at him in the eyes, laughing at his fucked out state.
-« You’re such a pervert Jisung.»
-« I’m keeping your panties. »
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skzoologist · 1 year ago
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Hii!! I saw that you are open to supernatural AUs so... Can I ask for one where Stray Kids summon a demon that happens to be Bae? 😈😊 (I want happy vibes pleaseee)
word count: ~2k
warnings: few drops of blood
genre: demon AU, fluff?
a/n: I hate you. I told you in our chat already several times, but I hate you so much. You KNOW how much I love supernatural AUs, especially demon ones. And you dare give me this idea, that is now living rent free in my head, growing itself out into a whole ass series. I will be demanding compensation later. Maybe some Chan pics or smt, I haven't decided yet. I need to bash my head into the wall first a few times.
Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!
!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!
!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
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‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
“Are we really sure this is a good idea?”
Hyunjin’s question never got answered, the air between the 8 teenage boys unusually silent and strained. It only caused him to grow even more nervous, his fingers occasionally twitching without his own command, urging him to just tuck his hands into his pockets.
Everyone knew that it wasn’t a good idea. Not the little group they gathered up in, not the dark room lit up with various candles, all placed in a certain pattern scattered throughout the whole space. And the charcoal drawing they circled around certainly wasn’t the best thing they had ever done in their whole life, not at all.
But what they were about to do was something even stupider.
Jeongin took out a little knife he’d kept safely tucked away in his flannel’s pocket, revealing the hidden blade with the single press of a button. His eyes swept over everyone else’s, worried glances greeting him back. The maknae could only gulp, yet his slightly shaking hands extended over the circle, blade cutting into supple flesh.
Drip, drop.
The vermillion liquid slowly landed and formed a small pool in the middle of the drawing, where the most intricate symbols laid, everyone sitting around it with bated breaths. It felt as if they were about to make either the best, or the most horrible decision of their lives, and they couldn’t have wished for it to be over any faster. It laid heavy on their shoulders, their chests, as soon as they got their hands on that wine red, leather bound book that started it all. It was as if that thing was calling them, whispering into their ears, something they couldn’t resist even for a moment. 
It would have felt wrong to do so.
So now, here they were, performing the ritual that was carefully written down in those aged, yellow pages, their content beautifully explained in great detail. Even them, who had no idea about the occult, could easily perform it; the hardest thing to do was to draw the lines good enough and have enough bravery to cut into their flesh.
And yet… nothing seemed to be happening.
No magical lights appeared from the summoning circle, no portal opened from the blood, nothing. Not even a little puff of smoke.
“Well… we tried.” - it was Chan, breaking everyone out of their stupor. “Yea, let’s just go. Don’t look so heartbroken Lixie, we can maybe try again later?” - Changbin said, slinging an arm over the mentioned male’s shoulder. “Exactly, so let’s just go down. I never liked this room, whenever I passed by it, it gave me the chills. C’mon Jisungie, stop moping around.” - Hyunjin said, a sweat rolling down the side of his forehead. “No need. Just look.” - Minho’s voice caught everyone’s attention, his arms ushering the two youngest behind his protective form.
The boy was right, the room now glowed in a sinister red light, something captivating, yet frightening. A rift that tore through time and space started opening up in the middle of the summoning circle, the blood fallen there now moving on its own, pawing the path for the portal in an intricate pattern. Dark smoke escaped that rift, coating the room with its chilly self. If only that was the single thing that crossed over to their world, then the boys could have heaved a sigh of relief. But no, they were forced to watch as a void-dipped, clawed hand gripped at their floor boards, pale skin following it soon after.
In front of the boys stood an imposing creature, one with ashen skin that was dipped into tar, head crowned with pairs of majestic horns, back adorned with a pair of skin-woven wings and a slender tail. His eyes were like molten gold, the colours and patterns perpetually swirling in there, dragging anyone into their depths, were they brave enough to look.
Those same eyes slightly widened, stuck on two members of this little friend group, their presence catching the demon completely off-guard. He wanted to ask what this was all about, especially when he saw that same recognition flash across their eyes, but he wasn’t a fool. There must have been a reason for why they hid amongst these humans, something he didn’t want to ruin even without knowing.
So, the demon set his eyes on Chan, the one who bravely stood in front of anyone in a protective manner. The creature cocked his head to the side, his wings closed to seem less imposing as he was waiting for the other to speak. Nobody summoned a demon for no reason, after all.
“Why did we do this, again? Someone remind me please?” - Changbin’s voice was sharp, yet it had a slightly fearful edge to it. “I don’t fucking know, you idiots just bought this book and somehow we ended up here. With a fucking demon in our room, which is as tall as the room itself!” - Seungmin’s seethed, snapping at the other. “It wasn’t even me, why are you yelling at me then?! It was Minho and Jisung who found the book and brought it here, blame them!” “Oh so you’re pointing fingers now, huh?” - Minho joined in, a deep scowl etched onto his delicate features. “Uh, guys, maybe not now…” - but Jeongin’s pleas weren’t heard, not even after Hyunjin joined him in his efforts to diffuse the situation.
The demon watched it with amusement, a slight huff escaping his form as it reminded him of the past.
“Hey, you can grant one of our wishes, right? Any kind?” - Chan asked, causing the demon’s eyes to fall onto his tiny form that was squished between Jisung and Felix carefully.
His only reply was a silent nod.
“I want these 7 boys to never be harmed, to always be healthy and protected.”
That reply was not what the two boys beside him expected, staring at him with wide eyes and arguing how he should have wished for something better, for himself. The demon just observed it, how everyone argued in the room for different reasons, his eyes lingering on the two liars.
“I cannot grant you what you already have.”
Chan only sputtered at that, unable to believe what he had just heard. The two next to him reacted similarly, a few from behind them joining in, their argument slowly dying down. Everyone just stared up at the hellish entity, watching his eyes shift around, his head slightly dipping down when he closed his eyes for a few seconds, deep in thought. The hair-woven waterfall behind him gently moved, just like the chains and other ornaments that decorated his horns and sharp ears.
Those molten orbs were visible again, hiding behind long lashes, yet no more sound exited the demon’s lips.
“What do you mean? I already have it? We’ve never done anything like this, that’s impossible! Explain yourself!” - Chan raised his voice, clearly getting worked up. “Don’t worry, Channie hyung, he’s only speaking the truth. Other demons would take this chance and take your soul in exchange for nothing.” - it was Felix who spoke up this time, his warm hand lingering on his hyung’s shoulder, before he stepped towards the demon. “Yea, you can really trust him. He’s the softest demon I’ve ever known, and I know San.” - Jisung followed the younger aussie, a lopsided smile dancing on his lips.
Everyone watched on, confused, questions upon questions flying through their heads. The strong feeling sat out onto their faces, some closing their mouths several times, yet no sound left any of them. The two who were now standing next to the demon looked guilty, rightfully so.
Because now Felix was sporting angel wings, while Jisung had bat wings and a tail protruding from his back.
“Someone tell me they’re seeing the same thing, otherwise I’ll assume I somehow overdosed myself on drugs.” “Innie, you didn’t take any.” “That was the problem then.”
The boys laughed at that, the awkward tension now broken thankfully. It gave a chance for the two who hid their true entity to gather themselves, to take a deep breath and just slowly let it out.
“We’re so sorry for hiding this before you guys, but it doesn’t change who we are as a person, really. We’re still the sa–” “Lix, Lixie, it’s okay, don’t start crying. Sure, it’s a surprise, a big one, but we’re not mad. No, Sungie, you calm down too. Just. We need a minute to process, ye?” - Chan interrupted, a heavy sigh leaving his chest as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to make sense of everything.
“So… you guys like, know each other?” “Minho!” “What? I’m sure you wanna know too!”
Laughter interrupted the bickering couple, Chan and Minho stopping to look at the still giggling Felix and Jisung.
“Yea, we kinda have a history, the three of us. In short, me and Bae are like brothers, and I mean our new demon buddy here. The two of us are like two peas in a pod, inseparable. Lixie here somehow didn’t hate our guts, even though our races completely hate each other, and we all kept sneaking out to hang out. That’s the gist of it, and now here we are!” “While Jisungie left out a lot, and I mean a LOT, that’s the basics, yea. But we’ll fill you guys in later, first let’s finish forming this pact, before the portal closes and Bae’ll be banished back into Hell for a good while.” “Okay, but how? He already denied one wish.” - Chan argued back, the others nodding along. “Hmm, don’t worry about that. I think he already knows what he wants.” - Jisung replied, his eyes hiding a knowing glint inside.
Indeed, the young demon was correct. Ever since he’d been summoned, Bae knew what he'd wanted and from who. It was obvious it wouldn’t be the one whose blood was used for the creation of the portal, everyone too overprotective for that to happen. And the others either didn’t have something to wish for that they didn’t already have, or Bae simply didn’t want to grant it -he was a picky demon after all-.
But there was one wish that tickled his fantasy, one that drew him closer.
“I can grant what your heart desires, in exchange for your soul. What do you say, Hwang Hyunjin?”
The boy was frozen in place, his dark eyes locked onto golden ones. His lungs stuttered, nearly failing to work and take in that vital air, and yet… 
He wasn’t truly afraid. 
This gigantic, dangerously captivating creature didn’t terrify him. No, he was excited, his heart was beating hard and fast as if to say that yes, this was finally happening, he’d waited for this for so long. He didn’t know what he’d been waiting for truly, but this whole thing just felt…right. As if a missing puzzle piece was found, ready to be placed in its place and complete a bigger picture.
A little smile drew itself on the demon’s lips, something that caught everyone’s attention as it wasn’t sinister, no, quite the opposite.
“Then the pact is sealed.”
All Hyunjin felt was a slight pain on his cheek, then dark smoke covered up his vision, the demon’s form lost inside. Nothing could be really heard, besides the hushed whispers of the members and his own rushing blood, his heart beating loudly in its cage. Something that only strengthened when the smoke finally cleared, his eyes widening at the sight.
A tall human stood in front of him, pale, delicate skin framed by dark hair. His eyes weren’t molten gold anymore, no, they mirrored his own, dark pools like the inky sky. It took him a second to blink, the sight strangely carved into his mind.
He had to sketch it down later.
Bae lightly smiled at Hyunjin with those barely red-tinted lips, turning around and opening his arms. It didn’t take longer than a second for him to be tackled by Felix and Jisung, the two clinging onto him as if their lives depended on it. So much so, that the little devil hopped onto his back, while Felix was in his arms, carried away as if this was the newly met devil’s daily life.
The others could only blink at that, too confused to really do anything.
What a weird, twisted situation they had gotten themselves into.
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humanuser0613 · 2 years ago
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Damn. I've really been considering this and saw this article posted. It seemed like the sign I needed to post my thoughts.
The "will they or won't they" isn't the point of this post.
They don't have to. They shouldn't have to.
Fans who claim to want to hear it from their idol directly are very much DEMANDING a response that they are NOT PRIVY TO. YOU, AS A FAN, ARE NOT OWED AN ANSWER.
And it seems most people say they'll only listen to Tae as a means of denying the very obvious pictures that have been unleashed upon us.
Speaking of those pictures, yes, it's them. Yes they're dating. (And, again, no, we don't need confirmation.)
That means that gurumi (who wasn't found yet as I previously posted) was telling the truth. And it means various scary and sundry other issues related to the invasion of the idols' privacy. I don't even want to hear from the "they signed up for this" crowd. 😡
What point am I getting at?
1) They've deliberately chosen not to publicly confirm their relationship. That doesn't mean they aren't dating. It means they want privacy.
2) The person who tried to sabotage them last year, and is STILL running around free, may attempt to do so again. We have no idea what their ultimate aim was in the first place.
3) The people demanding an answer from Tae or Jennie are actually leaving them open to this kind of blackmail.
Most *normal* people use their eyes and ears and brains to understand the context of the things around them. To make sense of it all. When the pics dropped and were VERY CLEARLY those two, the demand was for them to publicly confirm the relationship and to stop "playing with fans' hearts" 🙄 or some other bullshit.
Fans had two good choices at that point and one bad choice: 1) accept 👍, 2) ignore 👍, and 3) deny 👎.
1) those who accept just want their idols to be happy, to be able to live life normally, or they were people who already shipped them and felt they won at life. 😐
2) those who ignore any dating info are not into the gossip and just vibe with the personalities and music.
3) those who denied gave more ammunition to gurumi to post more pics. The pressure to disprove the pics grew to involve even more idols having private pics released. And complete strangers were harassed, and had their own pics stolen so fake accounts could be made to deny, deny, deny! (One being an account gurumi warned people about a full year before it was used to deny, yet again, taennie pics.)
They also resorted to hating on the idols' bodies, clothes, and personalities all to deny the dating info. So much libel was going on, and for what?
And now they wait for Tae to confirm. Not even Jennie can say anything. It has to be Tae. And how does that make them different than gurumi demanding a public statement?
Those who accept or who ignore take away the power of the person(s?) trying to expose them. Cause they don't need the statement. They'll support the idols anyway.
Those who deny are the ones who hold the idols hostage. Will they continue to support the idols? Is their support conditional on the idols dating only their band members? Or not dating at all? Or dating only people they approve of (y/ns included)? Are they actually supporting the idol by denying the relationship? Or are they actually denying the idol freedom to their own emotions and choices? Are they supporting their idol by talking shit about their partner or are they disparaging the choices of someone they claim to love unconditionally?
What are they personally trying to save by denying the happiness of someone they claim to love?
I can't answer some of these questions.
Tae solos, jenlisas and taekookers undoubtedly don't want to have their fantasies destroyed. It can emotionally hurt a body to have been so deep in a fantasy and to be wrong about it.
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But I can't figure out why ARMYs are denying what is so obvious. What do they get out of these denials?
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whumps-and-bumps · 1 year ago
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Xenophobia: The Lure
[CW: branding, misgendering, abusive father, depression vibes] [Notes: This story is set in a fantasy world with many non-human characters, although Xen themself is human as they come. This is mostly a flashback, to the happiest they will be for a very, very long time. Don't worry, it gets worse!] [Masterpost/Contents] [Next]
:・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・. :・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.:
Fire.  
It felt like fire. 
The searing pain spread across their neck and down their back as the brand was burned into their flesh, marking them as the property of another. It overwhelmed their senses, blinding and deafening them whilst their blood rushed in their ears and their heart thudded in their chest. They thought they might be crying out in cocktail of fear and pain. They couldn’t tell anymore. 
They couldn’t remember much from that night. Or rather, they couldn’t remember much after it had started to go wrong. Everything before that was crystal clear; burned into their memories, much like the crest on their skin. They remembered the butterflies in their stomach, the hope in their chest, and the skip in their step. They remembered how excited they had been.  
All of that was gone now.  
The only thing left was the fire. 
˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖
[Hey! You look really cute in your first pic. I've never met a pink mothfolk before :) ] 
Xen sighed heavily as they threw their phone down beside them on their bed, laid back, and covered their eyes with their arm. Online dating was hard. Sometimes they weren’t even sure why they bothered ��� it wasn’t like they’d gotten any matches in the three weeks they’d been trying, other than from bots or catfish. Frankly, even if they couldn’t find a date, a friend or two would have been nice. Someone to spend time with that actually enjoyed the time spent with them. 
“Oi! Get down here, young lady!” 
Xen groaned and rolled over, hiding their face in their pillow as their father shouted up at them from the kitchen. They racked their brain, trying to figure out what small mistake they were going to be lit up about, but nothing came to mind. They cringed as they heard heavy footsteps make their way up the stairs, and flinched when their bedroom door was flung open hard enough to bounce against the wall. The door handle chipped away more paint from an ever-growing dent behind it.  
Something was thrown at them – it slapped wetly against their shoulder before falling harmlessly to the side, leaving a damp spot where it had landed. From the smell of it, it was probably the dishcloth that had been left in the sink. 
“Finish the fucking dishes. I’m out of pint glasses, again,” their father slurred out. He kicked their bed when they didn’t respond fast enough. “What am I supposed to do, drink from the bottle? Like a fuckin’ slob? Answer me!” 
“Sorry, dad,” Xen mumbled in return. Their father grunted. 
“There’s no fucking respect around here. Lazy bitch,” he grumbled as he left again, leaving the door wide open for them to hear the smash of glass as something was thrown against a wall downstairs. 
Once they were sure he had left, Xen sighed again, their ribs heaving with the weight of the world upon them. Once upon a time, this would have been enough to make them cry. Now, it was their regular Tuesday night. They hauled themselves upright, peeling the soggy dishcloth from their bedspread and instead tossing it onto a dirty plate they had left on their desk before they swung their legs out of bed. They sat there for what felt like forever, trying to will their body to move, before they were snapped out of it by their phone beeping at them. The ringtone was one they hadn’t ever heard before.  
They squinted at the screen suspiciously as they opened up the notification, assuming it to be a reminder that some long-forgotten game was still installed and demanding attention again, but to their surprise it was the dating app. 
[You have a match! Tap to see who liked you back!] 
They read the notification again, just to double (triple) check they were understanding it correctly, and before they could move their phone beeped again.  
[Someone has messaged you! Tap here to find out what they said!] 
A slow smile spread across Xen’s face, their heart beginning to beat that little bit faster. With shaking hands, they reopened the app, and replied back to that cute pink mothgirl before their nerves could get the better of them. 
˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖
[Hey, do you wanna finally meet up irl? I’ve got the perfect idea for a first date ;) ] 
Xen audibly gasped as they read the latest message from the mothfolk, their heart skipping a beat or two. They had been texting Salia for a couple of weeks now, and every day she messaged back the sun seemed to shine a little brighter down on them. It was all they could do not to dash straight for their phone every time it buzzed. So far, they had managed to keep everything a secret, but they weren’t sure how long they could keep that up anymore – especially if they were going to meet in person for the first time. Nice things just didn’t seem to last long around their father.
They leaned against the counter in the kitchen as their thumbs hovered over the virtual keyboard. They wanted to reply quickly before their father stumbled in, but their mind was drawing a blank. How to sound interested but not obsessed, excited but not too eager? 
[That sounds lovely-] 
Backspace. 
[Ooh what is it? I’d love to!] 
Backspace. 
[Are you sure? I’m really nothing special.] 
Xen flinched as there was a thud and sudden yell from the living room, and hurriedly locked their phone as they shoved it in their hoodie pocket. They froze for a few long seconds, waiting for him to come storming their way, but the house remained motionless. They tiptoed towards the door to the kitchen and peaked their head round, wondering what he was doing, but their father was just sat in his armchair watching TV with a scowl on his face and bottle in his hand, as always. His favourite team must have been losing, or something. The reason rarely mattered as much as the aftermath. 
They went back to the counter and let out a breath they didn’t realise they had been holding. The microwave still had another three minutes to go before their dinner would be ready, so they took out their phone again and unlocked it. To their surprise and abject horror, there was a new message waiting for them. 
[Aww, don’t say that! I’d love to see you in person. You’re a sweetheart and I want to hold your hand 😊] 
Xen’s heart dropped out of their chest and through the floor when they realised that they’d accidentally sent their last message. Their cheeks lit up a deep red and they closed their eyes, as if that would undo what they had done. The noise of their father now cheering uproariously in the next room sounded a million miles away. They didn’t even need him to ruin things, they did a perfectly good job on their own- 
[Xen? I mean it. If you want to wait a little while longer though that’s okay too! We can do this at your pace.] 
They let out a soft little noise. She was being so kind to them, giving them this second chance. With a shaky intake of breath, they finally started to type out a real reply. 
[I'm so sorry, I didn’t mean to send that! I would love to see you, I was hoping you’d ask <3 ]  
They sent the text before they could overthink it. They waited for the rejection, the ‘actually, um, no’ and ‘I've changed my mind’ to come back through as those three little dots taunted them like that the crow greeting Prometheus every morning. Their liver being plucked right out of their belly would probably hurt them less right now, though. 
When she replied, their heart stopped. Again.
[Great! Thank god, I was worried I was moving us too quick 😊 How does this Saturday night work for you?] 
The noise of their father arguing with the television seemed to fade further into the background, their peripherals turning to shadow until all they could see was the message. They stared at their phone in disbelief.  They were shaken out of their stupor by the microwave starting to yell too. 
“Hey, turn that racket off, I’m watching the game!” 
“Sorry, dad!” they yelled back, setting their phone down and scrambling to open it before the beeps could annoy him further. They sucked their teeth as the heated plastic of the readymeal burned their fingertips, and they nearly flung it across the room instead of carrying it over to the counter where their bowl laid waiting. They dropped it onto the laminate with a thud and shoved their hand under the cold tap for a few moments, giving them time to process. 
She still wanted to see them. 
On a date. 
Well, that was mildly alarming. They didn’t think they’d get this far. What would they wear? What would they do? Salia had said she had a great idea for the date, but what on earth could that possibly be? Xen buzzed with excitement, despite the slightly light-headed feeling that was creeping over them, and picked their phone back up in order to stare at it for a while. 
Saturday night was absolutely fine. It wasn’t like they ever had anything else on. 
[That’s perfect. What will we be doing?] 
They replied, still trying to keep their cool, then they started second guessing themself – what was it people always said to do, change something arbitrary about date plans in order to see how controlling the other person was? They didn’t think Salia was that type of person, but then again, it was probably still a little too early to tell. They frowned a little to themself.  
Everything was going to be just fine. It was only a date, after all. What could go wrong? 
[Would you mind if I kept it a surprise? ;) ]  [I’ll meet you in the park at 6pm – you know, by the bandstand?] 
Now was their chance to change something random. Make it 6:30, meet them by the old oak or something instead – but Xen couldn’t ignore the paranoia that if they were fussy about a minute detail like that, the date would be off. And they really, really wanted this. 
[Cool, sounds good. Will I need to be wearing anything special?] 
Salia immediately started typing and Xen groaned inwardly. That had sounded flirtatious when it wasn’t meant to be. 
[I mean, I’m just wondering if this is more of an outside situation or an inside!]
They quickly sent another message, just to clear that up, but it hadn’t been necessary. 
[Wear something loose and comfortable. Maybe even something cute underneath, if you’re down for it ;) ] 
Xen felt a blush rise in their cheeks again, their microwave meal quickly forgotten on the side. 
Honestly, they couldn’t believe their luck with any of this. They were half-tempted to send her a message asking where she had been all their life, but they had to keep it casual. They didn’t want to come on too strong, be too much. Be too loud. Take up too much space. Exist too freely. 
Their father’s disparaging words echoed around their skull, drilled into them over the years. Their mother’s death had been tough on all of them - but that shouldn't have been an excuse for him to start acting the way he did. It was hard not to already hold Salia up on a pedestal when literally anyone else would treat them better than he did. She was the first glimmer of hope that Xen had had in years that their life could be more than this, and they clung to that with everything they had.
[next]
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the-void-writes · 2 years ago
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Happy STS! Here’s a summer themed ask for you:
All of your OCs are at the beach! What is each OC doing and what chaos ensues?
(Optional things for your OCs to be doing, there are no rules <3)
Which character is most at home in the water and has to be dragged out, and demands that the whole group play all the water games?
Which character full stop refuses to even touch the water (whether out of fear or another reason)?
Who has the bag full of snacks and is constantly yelling at people to drink water and put on sunscreen?
Which character is dunking people in the water, grabbing other people’s ankles, pulling dumb pranks, etc?
Which character is just there for the Instagram (or equivalent) pics?
Which character gleefully asks to be buried in the sand and realizes too late that they’ve made a horrible mistake?
Which character is the sandcastle captain making elaborate sand creations and who WILL FREAK OUT if you come within ten feet of their project?
Which character is Mx. Put on Way Too Much Sunscreen?
Which character didn’t put on ANY sunscreen and is now burnt to a crisp?
And finally: Which character is the reason that the group has to go home early?
for whichever and however many OCs you would like <3 answer whenever you want <3
Oh wow, thank you so much!!! This is so cute and I’d love to do it for the Preston cast because I miss them a lot.
Here’s the context: For one beautiful warm day, Will’s childhood friends and his new Division teammates get to hang out on the beach together, without Vesely or anyone from Preston around to disturb them.
(Optional things for your OCs to be doing, there are no rules <3) Volleyball matches are a must for the kids. Jin dominates every game, despite missing her arm (she uses her head to serve, and Rio is very concerned lol). They also do makeshift-parasailing, thanks to Jason and Will. Jason’s wings are the sail, and Will manipulates the wind to the best of his ability.
Which character is most at home in the water and has to be dragged out, and demands that the whole group play all the water games? It’s Will, the sweet little guy. Whenever he wasn’t able to fly, he took to the water because it felt just as nice and freeing to him. Alvie’s the one who demands to play games, though, because he’s determined to splash all of his friends.
Which character full stop refuses to even touch the water (whether out of fear or another reason)? Riley, no doubt about it. He has a bit more control over his electrocution abilities, but he doesn’t trust himself to stay in the water. Thomas stays with him under an umbrella at the very top of the beach, playing music on a handheld radio for him.
Who has the bag full of snacks and is constantly yelling at people to drink water and put on sunscreen? David and Laylah are known as the “co-team-moms.” They’ll over-prepare for everything, and in spite of his crutches being uneven on the sand, David has indeed chased Alvie down to make him wear sunscreen.
Which character is dunking people in the water, grabbing other people’s ankles, pulling dumb pranks, etc? Alvie and Kevin should never have been allowed to meet. Their pranks are a nightmare for everyone in their group, especially Riley. They keep trying to fill his bag with sand, and thankfully, Colin throws them both into the ocean.
Which character is just there for the Instagram (or equivalent) pics? Sarah and Kevin have a system in place: find a perfect background, and take turns with the phone to get beautiful profile pictures. Sarah takes some couple photos with Jin, and Kevin takes candid shots of his friends.
Which character gleefully asks to be buried in the sand and realizes too late that they’ve made a horrible mistake? Avery naively asked his coworkers to bury him in the sand, blind to the fact that Rio was definitely going to leave him there for an hour. Julie and Cierra dig him back out eventually.
Which character is the sandcastle captain making elaborate sand creations and who WILL FREAK OUT if you come within ten feet of their project? Lydia and Alvie have been building buddies since they were five. They take up a huge part of the beach that definitely disrupts people’s ability to walk around, and they end up with a crumbling, leaning kingdom of sand.
Which character is Mx. Put on Way Too Much Sunscreen? Jason and Henry are tied for having too much sunscreen. They get distracted while applying it for each other because they’re just so domestically happy, and before they know it, their shoulders are layered with lotion.
Which character didn’t put on ANY sunscreen and is now burnt to a crisp? Lydia insisted she didn’t need it because the water would keep her cold, under the belief that sunburns were caused by temperature and not the sun’s UV light. Her friends had to carefully explain to her why she was still red later.
11. Which character is the reason that the group has to go home early? Buzzkill Vesely, who calls his whole team back to base because he had the brilliant idea to do their next tests on an aircraft carrier. They all totally plan to sneak away and go back to the beach.
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phoenixduelist · 1 year ago
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BASICS !
Name / Alias: Jasmine
Pronouns: she/her
Blog type: single muse | Multi-muse | non selective | semi selective | selective | mutuals only | private | other (specify)
Type of muses: canon | OCs | both | other (specify)
GENERALITIES !
Triggers people MUST tag: None.
Interest tracker / checker: I have it and it's mandatory | I have it, it's not mandatory but I'm more likely to follow back / interact with the people who fill it | I have one and I prefer it if people fill it in | I have it but it's to people whether to fill it or not | I don't have one | other: I don't have one but probably should have because the Véghváryverse has gotten out of hand
Reblog karma: I practise it | I practise it sometimes | I don't practise it | I always reblog memes from the source | indifferent | other: the fuck is that
Rule passwords: I have one and it's mandatory | I have one and it's optional | I don't have one | I send passwords | don't sent passwords | when should I send a password?? If I send it while the other person hasn't followed back I feel like I'm being pushy & almost demanding a follow back. If I don't send it and follow them, then they will think I didn't read the rules.
3-5 ESSENTIAL RULES PEOPLE HAVE TO RESPECT
My blogs are +18 only. I know you feel ready and don't know why is this thing so common; I felt the same way. You will get it when you're older.
Don't use Amber Heard as a faceclaim if you would like to write with me. I don't tolerate Johnny Depp slander either.
Like my characters, my writing style is also intense. Grand storylines, deep emotions, detailed fight scenes, serious conflicts. As @erthlyheavn once called the 'genre' (and I'm still extremely honored): Jasminean tragedy.
3-5 IMPORTANT PET PEEVES TO KEEP IN MIND
Tiny ass icons (less than 100x100) with a distorting psd slapped onto it with a fancy border. I CAN'T SEE SHIT. Let alone make out the character's expression. This isn't a dealbreaker though, I just don't understand the appeal of something so microscopic supposing to convey emotions.
Extreme formatting to the point I have difficulty reading it, despite my eyesight is great.
Haven't really happened, but expecting Rozy (or any of my muses) to be immediately down to have sex with yours. She might feel attraction at first sight, especially if the first meeting is a swordfight, but she's a trauma ridden gray asexual. It will take some time.
That being said, treating OC X Canon ships like it's the fucking 8th deadly sin.
2-5 THINGS THAT WILL LEAD TO INSTANT (SOFT) BLOCKING
Porn bots duh.
Blogs without displayed +18 age (I am fine with personal blogs if they are +18)
Terfs, racism, homophobia, Amber Heard supporters etc
Anon hate, unless I'm feeling snappy enough to answer.
2-5 THINGS THAT LEAD ME TO UNFOLLOW / SOFT HARDBLOCK A MUTUAL / SOMEONE I INTERACT WITH
We all know and put in the no racists etc list in our rules but I haven't seen many 'don't interact if you're anti sex work'. So if I see anyone speaking poorly of sex work in general, sex workers of any kind from full time workers to selling feet pics on Onlyfans; saying they deserve whatever treatment because of their line of work, daddy issues/uneducated/unintelligent jokes, use of slurs: get the fuck out of my sight and be very glad I'm not your neighbor. My blogs are all safe spaces for every kind of sex workers.
Portraying pedophilia/rape/sexual abuse in a positive light. It's not the same as having those in your character's backstory, nor if your character has a warped mindset on it due to what they been through. I am able to tell when the mun themselves write it as a kink instead a character's trauma response.
Being soooooo 'anti callout' that they refuse to heed the 20+ page google docs of evidence and still interact with known abusers in the rpc. And I'm not talking about 'they called my friend stupid and have a similar theme as them' petty shit. I'm talking about grooming, pedophilia, slandering, manipulating, doxxing, harassing, stalking. If you let that fly because their writing is good, they make you graphics or for whatever the sorry attempt of an excuse; what the fuck.
Giving me unwarranted, unwanted, condescending criticism about my writing. This doesn't mean I don't accept criticism, far from it. I also ask for feedback from time to time. I don't care how this will sound: I know I'm a good writer. I researched everything, poured history, psychology, years of development, depth, nuances, despite her strengths/talents she is balanced on the power scale (especially with the latest addition of the necessary recovery after pulling her sword fuckery), just very difficult to deal with. You do not get to dismiss that nor try pull me down because you will only end up pissing me off for eternity. Just say 'Our writing styles don't match' and unfollow. No harm done with that. But giving me an incorrect lecture when I didn't even ask for it is one of the very few things that will get you blocked without a word, because I'm still courteous enough to not leave an essay how you had no right & break down why you're wrong in your inbox before the block. Don't make me tone down my writing style and insult me for it because you don't want to/incapable of matching it.
2-5 REASON YOU DON'T TO FOLLOW (BACK) SOMEONE
Writing style and/or preferred topics the other person wants to discover don't or barely overlap with mine.
Shittalking Ocs in the rules like 'canon gave us enough developed characters'. Are we seriously gatekeeping...creativity???
Overly...detailed or harsh isn't a good word for it; but if the rules are like blocking without a word in case of liking too many posts, reblogging a meme instead of the source, sending too many messages etc. Which is fine how you want to curate your space, but I have way too many problems to worry about irl and I don't want to feel like I'm on a minefield where one wrong move is game over forever when I'm supposed to have fun. I'm way too stressed for this.
Even if everything is fine but I don't feel that spark. When I follow, it means I'm very much interested, intrigued in your character, your portrayal and want to throw my psychotic captain & the disaster crew at your muse(s). But there are some cases when I simply can't feel that. And I don't want to disappoint anyone by giving replies without soul in them.
tagged by: fucking stolen what did you expect, this is a pirate focused blog
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