#i mean technically he HAS one but i am Unsure
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jendoe · 2 years ago
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Claire and Alex? 🥺
omg... thank u... another excuse to talk about my favs
Name: Noah Conrad Weiss (middle name chosen to honor Roth even though he's totally Fine in this verse)
Gender: Male
General Appearance: Blond curls, blue eyes, and lots of freckles. Claire's mini-me... or well, not so mini considering he ends up surpassing even Alex in height. He is a BIG boy, about 6'4 when he stops growing.
Personality: Soft spoken and introverted. Definitely prefers to keep to himself, so not very talkative unless you get him going on a topic he's enthusiastic about because he enjoys sharing knowledge with others. Science-oriented like Claire is, though his interests lie more in paleontology and herpetology than marine sciences. Gentle natured in general, but does have a bit of a temper and can be quite stubborn at times.
Special Talents: Can info dump about dinosaur and reptile facts at the speed of light.
Who they like better: Another momma's boy, so his attention is split between Claire and Lara. As a small child, he was definitely clingiest with Claire, but also spent a lot of one on one time with Lara since he had a habit of waking up early.
Who they take after more: Again, he is Claire's mini-me. They could bounce off each other for hours.
Personal Head canon: He will handle any reptile with excited glee, but if you try to show him a bug... well, let's just say El has freaked him out with her bug collection on more than one occasion. Big sister behavior.
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queers-gambit · 2 months ago
Text
Shadows of the Past
prompt: the High King recruits you personally for the expedition headed by your intended, Herald Elrond. your company encounters the darkness and Galadriel portrays an apology to her friend.
pairing: Elrond x betrothed!female!reader
fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power
word count: 5.1k+
note: wonky brain can think of nothing but this show right now i'm so sorry
warnings: cursing, spoilers, another reader insert for the haters, depiction of character injury, emotions are hard, small canon complicit angst, literal hurt and comfort, established relationship.
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"Tell me again," your brother-in-law asked, "why you're not leading this company?"
You smirked, stepping over a fallen branch, "Because the High King has bestowed the honor to Herald Elrond, Daenor."
"Then why enlist you, too?"
"I am a mere emissary of the King. Besides, skills are required for this quest, Daenor, why would I not be employed?"
"Right, of course. I guess my question should be, what skills do you possess?" He teased, laughing when you shoved his shoulder playfully. "But truly," he asked, "why would the King send you both, so close to your wedding day? Why send you, too, if not to lead this company?" However, before you could answer, the air turned serious when the procession you followed came to a rather disturbing discovery upon the laid path.
You leaned on the intact stone while listening to Camnir discuss with Elrond possible paths forward after intending to cross a bridge over the gorge, only to find it in ruins and rubble. Elrond originally questioned the force that could've brought the ancient stone down in such a harsh and violent manner, thinking perhaps lightning, but another voice refuted this idea by claiming it was the Dark Lord, Sauron.
This familiar voice was that of Lady Galadriel - and while you've known her to be a fellow Commander, you were unsure of her title now. Yes, she was technically lieutenant of this company, and that was what she was addressed as, but you knew how stubborn the Elleth was and that she would not be so easily demoted.
You said nothing. You just listened as Camnir told Elrond they could take one of two paths: one so out of the way, it would add two weeks to their journey, and the other, down the same darkened path the Dark Lord laid.
Upon mentioning the path before them through the Hills of Tyrn Gorthad, Lady Galadriel twitched. She had been daintily ghosting her fingertips over the charred and mangled metal of the lanterns set on the imploded bridge, seemingly stuck in thought, then freezing. You couldn't see her face, only taking note of the brisk tension mounting in the Elleth's shoulders.
She spoke, "There is evil in those hills." The group shared silent looks, each with varying degrees of mistrust or caution. "Ancient, and full with malice," Galadriel glared at the landscape before her. "Sauron means for us to go that way. We must go another," She informed the group as if she were in a position to give orders.
From the crouch he took to observe the damage done to the stone, Elrond rose while speaking in a firm tone that overpowered the Lady's, "The Enemy is doubtless watching both roads." His eyes flickered over yours last as jetting over each of his soldiers, clocking the way you nodded in agreement. To you, it seemed common sense: of course, the bad guy was watching the paths that would lead the good guys to him! He was evil, not stupid! Elrond reminded his people, "This collapse makes it more critical than ever to reach Celebrimbor at speed."
"We won't reach anywhere with speed if we walk into a trap," Galadriel argued; the two friends (and distant cousins) held each other's even stare for several moments.
"What say you, Commander?" You asked, hoping to break the tension and little trance they were locked in. No, no, not out of jealousy, but out of protectiveness; wanting to break the ice for the sake of Elrond's authority.
"We go South," Elrond decided, turning from the fragmented bridge stump, ready to lead his company on, when Galadriel spoke again - from the same spot she had yet to move from.
"Commander, I must protest."
You did not move when the others did, you waited when Elrond paused and replied, "Your opinion on the matter has been heard."
He went to walk away again when Galadriel growled with a rolling tongue, "Elrond!"
You flinched to a halt in blinding irritation, upset by your peer's very audacity. Everyone halted around you, Camnir even shifting in his stance out of nervousness from the heat of your glare not on him. Your fiancé turned back to glare at his friend, ending with finality, "Opinion heard, lieutenant. We go South." He gave an encouraging command in Sindarin, leading only a few strides before pausing. When you automatically halted yourself at his side, he nodded and spoke softly while seemingly mindlessly grabbing your hand to give an affectionate and reassuring squeeze, "Lead them on, love, stay on the trail."
You glanced back at Galadriel, who was finally moving to keep up, and whispered for only his ears, "You sure?"
"I'm sure, go on," he confirmed, nodding again and offering a soft sort of half-smirk. His eyes, though, were squinted; indicating he was genuine in his displayed gentleness. With a squeeze to his hand, you offered one last stale look at Galadriel, who expertly avoided your eyes, then let go and walked forward to lead the way.
Behind you, Elrond snarled his scolding of Galadriel, insisting she shape up, forgo trust in the Ring of Power she wore, and if that wasn't possible, she needed to excuse herself. The Commander of the Northern Armies rebutdtaled that she did not desire to see any member of the company slain - a veiled response to her stubbornness to not abandon their quest and refusal to ignore her ring.
Forward, you marched.
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Though you seldom showed it, you felt fearfully nervous when the night fell and your company crept further into what felt like infected wood. The ground turned spongey, a particular stench permeated the air, the darkness shadowed most all you saw. The trees loomed tall, the moon casted a bright silver light, and dead leaves crunched under booted, lithe steps. Elrond shared a nervous look with you, his hand only briefly brushing yours; a way to say he was there with you without being overly affectionate in front of his soldiers.
From the corner of his eye, Elrond saw your head tilt back in wonder before a fell voice hissed on the wind, "I am waiting for you." But in truth, nobody was sure about what they heard or did not hear. Perhaps they did not want to know, but still, the voice made the area further darken in suspicion, and once in a small clearing, all came to a halt to survey the surrounding area. There was a threat somewhere, but where exactly was yet to be determined.
Daenor questioned sharply, "What is this place?"
"Tyrn Gorthad," Camnir answered. "Known to men as the Barrow-downs."
You chimed in softly, "In ancient days, this was where they laid their lords and kings to rest."
"I feel no rest here," Daenor grumbled. "Even the trees seem ill at ease."
"Fear not," Vorohil chimed in, sounding amused while stepping up to (and through) your group's observation deck. "Dead men are no threat."
"Well, we've lived very different lives," you scoffed under your breath.
However, after Vorohil, Elrond followed; casting a look at the lot of you and reminding, "Keep moving."
You let the others pass ahead of you, trying to shake off your nerves and mentally prepare yourself for the hell you were walking into. Something anchored your feet, refusing to let go; every nerve in your body on fire and begging you not to wade into the dark. Your name was spoken gently, Galadriel's hand on your shoulder startling you.
"What is it?" She asked quietly.
"We shouldn't be here," you whispered, Elrond doubling back when he noted your delay. Not wanting a confrontation, Galadriel sighed and patted your shoulder before slipping away as your lover approached you.
"Are you alright?" He asked softly but urgently.
"There's something sinister here," you told him stiffly, stepping half a step closer, "watching us."
He took a breath, "If Galadriel's ring - "
"It's not that!" You insisted. "I feel it, Elrond, not the ring, not anything Galadriel said. I feel it."
Elrond's brows furrowed at the tips, like something hooked them to yank towards his nose. "Then stay close to me," he decided.
"We should move on, quickly," you snatched his hand to prevent him from parting; his gaze turning worried. "Please, listen to me."
"My love," he spoke softly, squeezing your hand, "it is a gravesite, nothing more. The dead cannot harm us."
"It is the living's influence I fear."
He sighed and nodded, "We will not linger." His forehead found yours to rest, "But do not stray from my side, it is of great comfort."
"To us both," you agreed, letting him pull back. Yet he did not relinquish hold of your hand, keeping it tight in his and leading you into the clearing the others were surveying.
"Commanders," Rían called, standing over the corpses of two horses... Attacked seemingly a time ago, and upon inspection, discovered the pairing bodily remains of an Elvish party.
Elrond questioned your name when you squatted, brushing aside debris. "Their barding is from Lindon," you told him, gently ghosting the leather with your touch. You looked up to meet his eyes, glancing over to see Galadriel, predicting, "The King sent a dispatch to warn Celebrimbor."
Galadriel nodded in confirmation as Rían discovered the encased message from the King in a decorative tube, asking, "This dispatch?"
Slowly, you stood from your position and held a silent hand out, being given the tube for inspection; all eyes on you, waiting for whatever your overly keen (even for an Elf) eyes would see. After confirming the contents, your eyes locked with Galadriel's, and she spoke what you both were thinking: "We must go from this place."
Elrond appeared ready to agree, tension mounting as your company seemingly felt the blanket of panic being thrown over them all. From the dark, a set of rotting chains shot out to coil around Daemor, yanking him into the toxic, spongey earth and across the clearing.
"Y/N!" He shouted in shock, and without thinking, your hands slapped into his as if in an effort to anchor him... But you were both yanked off your feet. "Commander!"
"Daenor! NO!"
"Help me! Y/N, Y/N, please!"
"Hold onto me!" You begged, being drug on your belly.
"Sister! Sister, please, help me! Help me!" He sobbed in fear, a vice grip on your wrists and hands surely to leave blemishes. "Don't let go! Pl-eeeeeaaaaaase!"
"Daenor!" You whimpered, struggling as the force that held you both hostage was too strong to maintain a safe, secure hold permanently - meaning, saving him was futile.
Your name was bellowed, being drug towards one of the opened tombs; but at the last moment, the tether that kept you and Daenor together was broken and he was pulled into the abyss of the grave. You whimpered in fear, slowly lifting from your belly and to your knees as Daenor's screams were silenced... In fact, the entire area turned eerily quiet.
Behind you, the others rushed to the scene and Elrond immediately dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around you. "Are you hurt? Hey, hey, look at me, are you hurt?" He demanded, fearful that the chains might shoot out again to finish the job to swallow you in the dark. He checked for any physical injury, but the tension was too great to ignore; the mouth of the tomb glaring at you, forcing Elrond to silence himself.
You flinched back into his hold when the gruesome sounds of crunching bone and squelching flesh was heard; indicating whatever was inside, whatever claimed Daenor, had disposed of his living body.
Elrond took advantage of your flinch to rock you back onto your feet, standing as a group as a voice hissed, "Cold old be hand and heart and bone, And cold be sleep under stone, Never more to wake on stony bed, Never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead." Galadriel brandished her sword as the wights first emerged, revealing their zombified forms. You encouraged the group to form together in a circle as the demons emerged. The Voice continued, "In the black wind, the stars shall die."
"Prepare yourselves," Galadriel warned, the group arming themselves.
"What are they?" Rían trembled.
From perfectly between Galadriel and Elrond, you answered, "They are those who laid in the tombs, the Lords and Kings of old... Lore calls them Barrow-wights."
The creatures surrounded your company, leering, growling, sizing you up. In Sindarin, Elrond commanded, "Attack!"
In tandem, the group lunged; weapons striking the ghoulish foes but they merely disintegrated in air... Then reformed. It seemed that fighting only served to irritate the enemies, their collective hissing and screeching making stomachs curl and skin to prickle in fear. Galadriel clocked this first, warning Rían, "Still your arrow!"
But the Elleth was already locked and loaded, the string slipping from her grip to fire at a distant wight. But it only soared through the zombie's face, not stopping, directing towards Camnir - but Elrond intercepted, swiping his sword to cut its path and save his soldier. The creature rejuvenated.
"They're impervious to our weapons," Camnir voiced, fear inking his tone.
Elrond's eyes found yours, seemingly connected by a string of similar thought; remembering the old wives tales you once read a lifetime ago, ancient lore about Barrow-wights dating back to the time of Melkor. So, he sheathed his sword and told his soldiers, "Hold fast." To Camnir, the closest to him, he demanded, "Come with me!"
"Where are you going?"
"Help me open it," Elrond told him, trying to pry open the sealed tomb as you swiped at another wight's skeletal hand reaching for you.
"What?"
"Hurry!" Elrond barked in Sandarin.
Back in your group, Rían muttered nervously, "Commander?"
"Ease yourself, remain calm..."
"What do we do?"
"Make no sudden movements. Stay together, fend them off but don't engage a fight," you advised, "hold strong - "
A gasp cut off your words when chains coiled around your ankle; securing in a tight zip that knocked you off balance and back into the toxic dirt. You scrambled for purchase on anything, finding only wet leaves; and suddenly, the chain turned taunt with tension before you were being sucked back into another tomb.
"Commander!" Vorohil shouted, trying to reach for you, but just missing as you were reeled back over the dirt.
"Y/N!" Rían cried, alerting Elrond and Camnir of your situation. You whimpered in fear, sobbing as you couldn't fight the force; couldn't save yourself; only able to helplessly submit to your approaching doom after clawing unsuccessfully for salvation.
"No! No!" You yelped, trying to remove the chains, but another tightened around the first chain in a horribly tight, vice grip that strangled breath from your lungs from the pure burning sting. With the last of your air, you screamed, "Elrond! Please!"
You heard Vorohil sprinting after you, freezing in your escape attempt when a grisly, decayed hand extended from the ebony shadow of the tomb towards you. There was a panicked finality to your blood, fear clogging rational thought; never seeing Elrond, only focused on the threat pulling you in. But the half-Elf you meant to marry in only a few weeks time came surging onto the scene, sliding on his knees at the mouth of the tomb and swinging a sword to sever both hand and chains.
"Y/N - "
"Fuck's sake!" You snarled, unintentionally cutting Elrond off; shoving the chains from your leg, scrambling to your feet.
You were just about to thank Elrond when he instead encouraged, "Here, take this." He held out one of the ancient weapons excavated from the tomb, nodding with increased vigor before turning away when it was in your grip. You hacked and stabbed the wight that came after you, Elrond and Camnir tossing the rest of the company weapons to cast down the surrounding enemies.
"How?" Rían asked in shock, seeing the wisps of the last wights waft into the wind.
"According to lore, only the blades with which they were buried with will return such creatures to rest," Elrond explained.
"But the men buried here have been entombed for over a thousand years," Camnir trembled, turning to his companion.
Vorohil seethed, "I think it is safe to say that something has awoken them."
"No," Galadriel argued, glaring down at the wight's decaying body. "Someone... Awakening evil. Across all Middle-earth."
You ignored the conversation and slowly took a seat; leaving your weapon in the dirt while focusing on hiking up your trouser leg after discarding your boot. With a clenched jaw, you revealed the wight's chains left sizzling lacerations; the metal seemingly enchanted to burn damn near to the bone, creating craters, indentations, dimples to your otherwise pure and unblemished flesh.
You winced when fabric stuck to the wound, bearing your teeth while hissing through them; breathing turning staggered as the pain became biting. "Commander?" You heard Camnir question softly with concern, others turning to set their attention on you.
"It's nothing," you insisted, observing the wound and deciding a tourniquet was required.
"You're hurt," Elrond growled, surging forward and unintentionally knocking Galadriel's shoulder - but the Elleth didn't take offense. The others wanted to close in around you, but Galadriel held them back after witnessing you before. As Commander of the Southern Armies, you had seen many battles with Galadriel, and sometimes, you sustained injury; she's witnessed how you turned akin to a panicked animal when accosted with attention - no matter how genuine the concern.
"It's nothing," you repeated, reaching for one of your belts, "I'm fine."
"You're not - "
"It's a burn, Elrond, nothing more," you sniffled, feeling how far up the chain had gone; deciding to tie the tourniquet above your knee.
"Let me," Elrond whispered, laying his hands over yours that shook and trembled without abandon.
"Elrond - "
"Just," he snipped, needing to pause and take a breath, "please, let me help you."
Behind him, Galadriel ushered the others away to a short distance; deciding to gather whatever belongings of Daenor they could to honor his lost life. You met Elrond's worried gaze and nodded, sniffling, "Okay. J-Just above the knee, here," you showed him.
"I know, love, I've got yah," he breathed, shuffling closer and kneeling beside you while taking the belt. You pulled the material of your trousers straight, grimacing when Elrond first wrapped the leather around your thigh. "All right?" He checked, seeing you nod rapidly; no words used because you were holding your breath to prevent yourself from crying out. When Elrond first tied the leather, you whimpered and his eyes turned teary. "It's gonna get worse, love, just hang on f'me - " He warned you before suddenly tightening the tourniquet, making you yelp painfully. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I know it hurts, I know, I know, I'm so sorry," he repeated, your hands latching onto his forearms out of subconscious need to feel him for comfort while he secured the leather belt. When done, he reached for your cheeks and pet hair that escaped your braids behind your ears, encouraging, "Breathe for me, just breathe, love. You're all right, there you go. Breathe. Good, good, I've got you, I'm so sorry, just breathe, just breathe... Oh, I, uh..."
"What's wrong?" You worried when he trailed off; eyes full of tears and his mouth half opening while retracting his hands that you held by his wrists still.
"I've blood on my hands..." He splayed them in display between you two.
"It's okay - "
"Got it on your face," he frowned.
"It's fine," you insisted, sniffling sadly, "it's my blood, anyway. We should be moving - "
"You're hurt."
"I know, but it's not life threatening, I don't need coddled."
"I'm not coddling you - "
"You are," you half smirked, "because you're worried."
"Of course, I am," he scoffed, using his sleeve to wipe your cheeks and temples free of blood. "How can I not be? You..." His voice quaked with emotion, "You are my starlight, my fairest friend, my sweetest love. Seeing you hurt..."
"I know," you whispered, bringing him close so your foreheads met, "but I'm okay."
"For now."
You sighed, pulling back to respond, "Don't say that, don't even think it. Optimism is our only friend in this situation, else, what is the point of going after Sauron?"
He needed to take a breath, sniffling his own emotion. "Fine. We should rest until morning... Regroup, give you time off this leg for now."
You nodded, "You sure?"
"I think we could all use the reprieve," he admitted.
"Does that include you?" You asked while caressing the coils of chestnut off his forehead.
"I'm fine - "
"As I am?"
Elrond paused, then scoffed a small laugh and nodded. "I'm managing..." He trailed off, shaking his head.
"Hey," you whispered, bringing him back to your forehead, "you're doing an excellent job of leading this company. But we all have limits and tonight was a lot, you deserve the time to breathe."
"Time is something we don't have."
"We have enough for now," you insisted, more or less forcing Elrond to relent.
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As Daenor's belongings were pulled from the tomb and buried in the scorched earth his killers had rose from, the company each offered you hollowed words of condolences for your loss. Beside Elrond, it was known, you and your brother-in-law were great friends - being the reason he met and eventually married your sister. His sword was embedded in the ground as a marker, the company gathered to silently pay their respects while their commander stood at the riverbed's edge in deep, solemn contemplation.
You held one of his daggers, intending to keep it in reminder; pocketing a few pieces of jewelry, intending to give it to his wife. However, all was interrupted when from a distance, you heard the booming rumble of drums. Not just any drums, but the beating sounds of a marching procession; something ominous and daunting. You perked up, standing to your feet as something dark and familiar started in your chest before sinking to your gut. By looks of your company, they, too, heard the drums and shared your worried thoughts; sheathing Daenor's dagger to your belt and surging for where Elrond stood speaking to Galadriel.
"Forgive my intrusion," you bid the pair, Elrond turning instantly.
"Are you all right?" His hand reached for your hip instantly, trying to help stabilize you - if you had been off balance.
Your hand laid to his cheek, answering swiftly, "I'm fine," before dropping your hand to rest on his bicep, "but we've heard drums - in the deep. Sounds like there's a host on the march."
This sent the company into action, tracking the sound of the enemy over leagues of wooded area. By the end of the day, at dusk, you all gathered slowly on a darkened clifftop; watching in horror as legions of orcs marched down the beaten path to the sounds of their war drums. "Orc treachery," Rían cursed upon sight.
"That trail...?" Elrond questioned, letting go of his secure hold on you to lower in a squat, "I gather it leads to - "
"Eregion, my liege," Camnir confirmed.
"We came in search of Sauron," Vorohil narrated everyone's thought and question, "And instead, we find Adar?"
"Could they be in league with each other or... Perhaps at war," Elrond thought aloud, you shifting on your bad leg for a moment to readjust your stance among the trees.
"A legion of Orcs have marched into Elvish lands," Galadriel spat in anger, glaring at Elrond. "We are all of us at war."
Elrond agreed, "Word of this must reach the High King before our host sails for Mordor."
The silence was calm in a resolute sort of way, everyone just pausing to bask in their shock and awe. This was shattered when a distant Orc shouted, "There!" An arrow thunked into the trunk of the tree behind you, a horse neighing shrilly as it galloped through the forrest towards freedom and away from its pursuers. Just as the company turned to face the enemy, another arrow flew through the air almost inconspicuously, finding its mark in the soft part of your chest just beneath your sternum.
You grunted when the arrow landed, taking half a step back and wanting to cry out. Instead, you just held where the arrow embedded itself in your flesh. You felt dizzy suddenly, clothes and hand saturating with blood as the arrow had pierced through the aorta artery to cause major damage. Irreparable damage. Fatal damage...
In a whisper, Elrond told his soldiers in Sindarin, "Hold!"
In the distance, the Orcs were heard complaining about the horse escaping while a few random arrows were fired off again in a last ditch effort to wound the animal. If you did not move, the mangey creatures did not notice, smell, or sense you. But you couldn't form a full coherent thought, just understanding your injury, the looming grace of Death soon to kiss you, that breath was becoming increasingly harder to come by, and the pain - the pain was aching, soon spiking.
You did not mean to, but your fear was too great to ignore, and you stuttered in a whimpered gasp, "El-Elrond?"
His head snapped over, seeing the arrow protruding from your chest and feeling himself crumble inside. You were choking on blood, trying to remain silent - and they all saw that effort. How blood came splattering from your nose as you tried to subdue your noise, but that only made it harder to breathe; inadvertently choking, a groan strangled from your lungs just as Elrond reached you. He held you to him with his chest and single arm anchoring your waist, the other lifting to lay his hand over your mouth as Galadriel glued to your other side for added support.
The company moved back several yards, covering ground swiftly before laying you down behind a natural outcropping of protective rock. You were struggling, unable to fight it any longer; hacking a cough, blood spewing, splattering, streaking down your neck, the pain insurmountable. Elrond's one hand cushioned under your head, tears in his eyes as he could only hold you as the Orcs were heard closing in, other hand once more clasping over your mouth.
Still, Galadriel was sandwiching you, wincing when Elrond's hand stifled your groans of pain as he strained himself to peak over the top of the rocks. When he lowered himself, your lover leaned his forehead on your temple and hushed in your ear, "I'm so sorry." Upon lifting, he met Galadriel's eyes, who had been examining your wound, only to find her's full of sadness. Her head shook with muted words - telling him whatever she saw wasn't good.
You whimpered lightly. The Orcs could smell an Elf.
You wrangled Elrond's hand from your mouth, "Lis-Listen to me - "
"Hush, do not - "
"Shut up and listen!" You hissed, keeping hold of his hand, "'M not makin' it outta this, love, you've gotta go. L-Leave me - "
"No!"
"Elrond. Leave me," you insisted, "and they'll k-know 's m-me they smell. Y-You have t'warn the H-High King."
"I'm not leaving you," Elrond grit.
You smiled sadly, "And I love y-you for that. B-But you h-have t-t-to."
"Not in this lifetime," he begged, a few tears falling. "Just give me time to think, I'll figure something out."
"Time... Is something we don't have," you repeated his words from earlier. Suddenly, Galadriel just knew something without words; a feeling; a sort of understanding that she could help in this moment. She heard you whisper, "I'm so sorry, this wasn't supposed to happen. W-We should've had so much more time - "
"Please, don't say that," Elrond begged quietly.
Galadriel took a sobering breath and moved her hands to the base of the arrow; pressing enough to make you wince and breath in sharply. Elrond went to tell her to back off, but paused when The Ring of Power she wore twinkled in the dark night - seemingly pulling you out of that fatal twilight. Your breathing turned slow... Eyes clearing of hazy pain... Life breathing back into your flesh...
The arrow fell out, making all three of you gasp. Galadriel's hands fell away as your own shot to where your wound had been - finding it healed between the fabric the arrow tore. You looked at the Elleth in shock, breathing, "You healed me...?"
She just nodded, Vorohil speaking in astonished Sindarin, "Amazing."
"You're - You're, you are - ?" Elrond stuttered in shock.
"I'm okay," you confirmed, caressing his cheek as he beamed down at you in pure glee. "I'm okay, love, I'm okay; Galadriel, she healed me," you sniffled, looking to your friend. "Thank you, my friend."
"Of course," she breathed, the Orcs heard shouting in the distance to overturn every rock. With a look of shared understanding, Galadriel told Elrond over your body while you tried to mop up some blood, "Get to Lindon. I will occupy them as long as I am able. Get her up."
Elrond huffed through his nose, but did as bid - not like he needed to even be told in the first place. He gathered you into himself and stood, making sure you were stable before looking back at Galadriel; slowly squatting again as she wriggled the ring from her finger. "Take it," she breathed, presenting Elrond with the band of jewelry. When he made no move, she snatched his hand and folded the ring into his grasp, "Take it, Elrond!"
"What will you do?" He asked begrudgingly, storing the ring in a leather pouch for safety.
"Something foolish, probably," she smirked, nodding in meaning. "Now, go. Go!"
"Elrond, love," you whispered, holding your hand out for his and heaving him to his feet. "With me, c'mon, quickly," you advised the others, beginning the trek down a new path in the woods. As you moved, you realized that Galadriel's ring hadn't just healed the arrow wound, but the Barrow-wight's chain, as well, which helps remedy your limp.
A semi-safe distance away, there came a decently loud and abrupt boom behind you, and upon looking, saw the trees up in flames. It was where Galadriel must've been battling the Orcs alone.
In earnest impression, Camnir narrated, "She scarified herself to save us all."
Elrond came to a halt when he realized his company members were captivated by the sight of heroics in action. So he interrupted their dreamy thoughts by calling, "No, you are mistaken, Camnir." He stalked forward through his delegates, telling them in their native tongue, "She did not do it to save us."
Tension simmered over each member.
"What?" Camnir questioned.
Elrond turned away from the spectacle with Galadriel's fire, consulting the dark again, speaking with ramped distain in Sandarin, "She did it to save the ring." His hand reached for yours again, the two of you leading the company forward with him calling over his shoulder in the Common Tongue, "Hurry!"
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requesting rules and masterlist
TROP masterlist
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oimitocat · 1 month ago
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TAKE ME UP | OS
park sunghoon x gn!reader
non idol au + 7 minutes in heaven + exes to situationship + angst + light fluff + college au + oral sex (giving) + blow job + implied unrequited love (hehe)
a/n; technically could be read as male reader
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sunghoon didn’t want you. he made it very clear that he didn’t want to have you, just desire you. the words he had said that day “we’re better at wanting each other than having each other” rang through your head for weeks. it made sense, how he’s only want you to show off, to have fun but never to actually have soft moments with.
it was always you yearning for gentle love. you weren’t exactly all soft, you were like a current of water— calm and steady but overflowing and aggressive when pushed …but he was fire. consuming and evaporating. he drained you.
at some point you agreed. you two are better as anything but lovers. as much as it hurt.
he’s always around. you have mutual friends. it’s… painful. you always yearn for what could’ve, but you wish desperately to move on just like he has. you wish it didn’t bother you despite how little you think of him. still… your heart naturally yearns.
“seven what?” you ask as you take a sip of your drink.
“seven minutes in heaven!” ni-ki exclaims, grinning sadistically.
“what’s that?” you ask, genuinely.
sunoo and jay turn to you. “you being for real?”
“yes,” you raise a brow, “okay, call me stupid then.”
“no one is calling you stupid,” jay defends.
“i am,” ni-ki snorts. you narrow your eyes at him, “seven minutes in heaven is basically whoever is paired has to be in a room or closet for seven minutes or however long and do some freaky stuff.”
you blink, “oh.”
“let’s go play!” ni-ki shouts to the people that attended the party.
it was a total of 12 people. the bottle spun. cheers. boos. if anyone wanted to skip, they had to take a shot of lemon juice. you weren’t certain if you’d skip or anything, depended on who you were paired with. still, you wondered — what if you were paired with sunghoon?
the boy is clearly having fun with jay, who’s next to him. they chat between themselves, they laugh. why does it bother you? is it because clearly you’re not even worth acknowledging? not even a glance? you feel so alone.
“sunghoon aaandd…. y/n!”
you blink out of your thoughts, snapping your head towards ni-ki. “i’ll take the lemon shot.”
“what?” everyone gasps, disappointed and shocked.
sunghoon huffs, “what? you’re not over me? scared you’ll spill out your feelings?”
“you’re not worth my time,” you say as casual as possible and take the shot.
it’s bitter. sour. you make a face but you won’t show them you’re affected. sunghoon is saying something. you don’t know what. it’s not worth it. you mean nothing to him. so… why do you keep making him something for yourself? heesung is next to you, he puts a hand over yours while everyone continues the game.
“you good?” he asks softly, covered by the shouts of enthusiasm from everyone when the next pair is chosen.
you shrug, “i guess i am. i just like to keep clinging onto things that stopped having meaning long ago.”
heesung’s eyes soften, “y/n… if you want to leave i’ll leave with you.”
“for what? i’m not… upset.” you look around, unsure what to stare at. everyone looks happy. “i just… i don’t know.”
“you wish things were different?”
you shake your head, “i wish i was different. why do i feel like….”
“like you’re not moving on?” his thumb rubs over your knuckles. you nod. “everyone goes through it differently.”
you look at him.
“don’t feel bad because he’s indifferent and you can’t do the same. that just shows you’re real with your process…“ he stares at you lovingly, “y/n-“
“y/n anddddddd,” ni-ki spins the bottle again, “sunghoon again!”
everyone is quiet. this is awkward. again? heesung’s fingers twitch over your hand.
“lemon shot?” ni-ki offers, shifting his sight between you and sunghoon.
“i’m down,” you say.
sunghoon doesn’t smirk. his expression is neutral. “me too.”
still, the tension doesn’t dissipate from the atmosphere. jay and heesung glance at each other. you take your hand out from under heesung’s and pat his hand with tender appreciation. heesung watches as you stand and go to the room with sunghoon. ni-ki had stated before hand that there’s no closet big enough for two people. a room had to do.
sunghoon walks into the room first, you follow suit. the door isn’t even closed behind you fully when he slams you into it. the lock clicking, your eyes strain on sunghoon’a glaring eyes.
“the hell-“ your mouth is suddenly attacked him his lips.
he’s kissing you. you almost push him off, but your body goes lax as he opens his mouth and starts to makeout with you. your can’t help it, he’s always been your guilty pleasure. you pant when he pulls away, his warm, moist breath on your lips.
“that it? nothing more in mind?” you ask, challenging despite how frantic your heart is beating inside your chest.
he grins, “i have a couple of ideas….” he said, glancing down at your lips again.
you hum back, his cockiness giving you an idea. you kneel down in front of him, bringing you eye level with his crotch, “let’s see what you can take for the remaining five minutes.”
“one way to find out.” he said, immediately excited at the sight of you on your knees in front of him. you reached up and unbuttoned his pants, shimmying them down slightly, “y/n are you really..?” he asked, suddenly there’s doubt in his eyes.
“backing out on me?” you ask, snickering at him. you palmed him through his boxers and he let out a low groan, his head falling back against the door with a thud.
you smirked and reached into his boxers, wrapping your hand around his dick and pulling it out. you kitten licked the tip and his hips twitch. he lets out a soft whine.
“quiet. or do you want them to hear how whiney you get for me?" you warned.
you hardly gave him a chance to think about it before taking him into your mouth, he let out a low moan for a second before he remembered what you said and held it back. you sank down as far as you could, slightly gagging as he hit the back of your throat, the sensation making his dick twitch in your mouth. still, you’re a trooper, it doesn’t faze you after a second.
you took your time sucking him off, keeping your actions slow and teasing. he bucks his hips up into your mouth and you bring a hand up to his hips, pushing him back into the door and holding him in place. he whines, pushing up against your hand. you pull back and he falls out of your mouth.
he whines out of frustration, “y/n- please i was so close. felt good-“
“cum when i tap your hip, not before. not after.”
he whines, not liking the order but still, he nods.
"that’s better." you say before guiding him back into your mouth.
you go back to your slow pace, trying to keep him from getting to the edge too quickly. his hips twitch, hinting at how close he was. you lap at the underside of his dick, his breath hitches. you hear footsteps coming from the hall, your time is almost up. yet you bob your head, you move your tongue and he can’t keep his noises to himself. they knock on the door — you tap — he cums in you mouth with a gasp.
“uh, time’s up,” someone says, you pull off of sunghoon.
he’s slump against the door, breathing uneven. you tuck him on lazily, coming up and being at eye level again. you grin, “the only one that spilled anything here was you baby,” you peck his lips, taking in his hot, heavy breaths.
he grabs you by the back of your head and kisses you again.
“guys-?”
“i’m sorry-“ sunghoon pants between kisses, “gives us a minute!”
“uh- sure?” and then there’s giggles from the living room.
“another minute?” you question, eyeing sunghoon with that tenderness you wish you didn’t have for him.
sunghoon nods, breathing normal now. “i just… i need one more minute with you. even if it’s the last.”
you close your eyes and your head falls forward into his neck. “don’t.”
“y/n…”
“you broke up with me. you left me.” you whisper, scared to break down into tears at the memory.
“i know,” he whispers, “i’m sorry… i just… feel so undeserving of you.”
“me too…”
you stay there in his embrace. he doesn’t want to let go…. neither do you. just one more minute… you two allow yourselves to love just one more minute…
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prettyboybun · 1 year ago
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I am genuinely always thinking about being one of a pair of subs. I'm the obedient bunny, he's the bratty puppy.
Our dom has us kneel for him in the living room after having teased us all day. "Alright, listen, sweet things. I know you're all riled up for me, but I need to go to the store. When I get back, I'll use you both properly, okay?"
We nod, my pup partner squirming already, wiggling his hips. Our dom continues, "You are NOT to touch yourselves until I get back. Got it?"
I nod sweetly, and get my hair ruffled affectionately in return. My sub partner, on the other hand, bites his lip with a glint in his eye, nodding slowly. You could almost hear the cogs turning. Our dom partner gives him a look, but inevitably ruffles his hair as well. "Okay. I'll be back soon, I promise."
We sit still and kneel in the living room until the front door closes and we hear him driving away. Suddenly, my partner pounces on top of me. He's already rutting against my thigh and pressing kisses all over my face and neck.
"B-But," I gasp, "Sir, he said to- He wants us to-"
"I know, baby boy, but I need you so bad right now, he's not gonna have to know," He says, against my neck, "You like this, don't you?"
I groan, "Yes, of course I do, I want you so bad... but I wanna be good for sir..."
"Just don't touch yourself, sweetheart. That's what he said, right? Don't touch yourselves? I'm sure that means I can touch you."
I ponder it for a little bit. Eventually, I nod, biting my lip. I'm still unsure if this is going against sir's wishes, but feeling my puppy boyfriend rutting against me, lips on my neck... It just feels too good after a whole morning of teasing and denial.
Puppy leans up and whispers in my ear, "Good boy." I shiver, hairs standing on end.
I let him manhandle me roughly into the position he wants, which turns out to be frotting our tdicks together. I'm laying on the floor, pinned, whimpering, feeling a little guilty at technically disobeying, but mostly lost in the pleasure.
My puppy looks down at me and says, "Don't cum, either, bunny. You have to wait til sir gets back for that one, definitely."
I nod, breathless. Then I open my eyes and look at him questioningly, "What about you?"
He smirks and rakes his claws down the center of my chest, leaving four pretty red scratches. I moan, and he says, "I can take whatever he's gonna dish. Don't you worry your pretty little head- After all, who's making the rules right now?"
I whimper, "Y-You, sir."
"Good boy."
We stay like that, him roughly grinding into me as I whine and moan beneath him. Eventually, though, the door opens, and I gasp and try to squirm out of my puppy's grip. We weren't supposed to still be playing when he got back. But puppy isn't relenting, he's still rocking his hips sharply against me.
"What do we have here?" Our dom says, a little amused. He surely would have guessed this would happen.
Puppy grunts as he continues grinding on me, "Welcome back, sir." I look at him and he's looking him dead in the eyes, smirking.
"Oh, puppy. Just couldn't wait, could you?" Sir sets down the grocery bags on a table, and walks over and picks pup off me with ease.
I start scrambling to sit up, but my dom presses his boot to my chest and gently lays me back down. "Still, bun, stay here. Let me deal with our boy and then I'll be back for you, okay?" I nod, looking up at him with soft eyes. "There's a good boy."
For a little while, behind me, I hear struggling, teasing, and soft moans. Then, my dom comes back over to me and lifts me up into his arms, walking us over to his armchair. This is when I see that our puppy is tied up spread open on the couch, gagged, but noticeably drippy and empty. Sir sits me down in his chair on his lap, facing puppy.
"Spread your legs, bunny," He murmurs into my ear. I do as he asks immediately, earning a quiet, "Good boy..." In response.
I turn my head to look at him and start saying, "I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to disobey, I-"
He shushes me, petting my hair, "Oh, bunny, that's not your fault. I know you need touched, puppy just decided that it was his responsibility to do so. Isn't that right, pup?"
Puppy says something in snarky defiance, surely, muffled against his gag. "Exactly. I know you're my good boy, bun. That's why I'm gonna overstimulate you on my lap right now while your pup watches and can't do anything about it." My eyes widen, starry. I see that sir is smirking at puppy. Our pup squirms and growls against his bonds.
I lean back against our dom's chest, also looking at puppy as I begin to have my tdick touched, softly at first. Then, he applies pressure, making me moan quietly. Teasingly, he uses his fingers to spread my bunnycunt open on display at pup.
"Doesn't he look so pretty like this, puppy?" At this point, our pup is ravenously trying to get out of his bonds, but he's tied up too tightly. Sir adopts a fake pity tone as he says, "Aw, I know, puppy. You just wanna use him so bad, don't you?"
Sir plunges a finger inside me and curls it, making me gasp and moan loudly, "That's it, good bunny. Let every sound out, I want him to hear how good I make you feel."
I do as he asks, making obscene sounds as his fingers fuck in and out of me, thumb circling my tdick. He growls gently in my ear, "You need to tell me when you're close, okay, bunny?"
"I- um- I'm close sir, so close for you, sir," I babble, already feeling so overwhelmed with sensation.
"Cum for us, bunny. Cum all over my fingers." I clench down and shudder, crying out and cumming all over his hand. He doesnt take his fingers out, but he gives me a little bit of time to breathe before he starts fucking me again.
Eventually, I cum the same way again. Then a third, and a fourth time, stacking them back to back against each other. After I've cum five times, I'm absolutely spent. He takes his fingers out, cleans them off, and pets my hair and shoulders, letting me slump against him bonelessly.
Our puppy has given up on getting out of his restraints, but he's whining softly, looking at us with big eyes. Sir motions for me to kneel down on the floor, and I do so, a little slumped.
He walks over to puppy and plays with his dripping hole as he says, "Good boy, good puppy. You took that so well, I know that was difficult. Are you ready for your reward?" Puppy nods, frantically. "Come here, bunny, kneel in front of him."
I happily crawl over, kneeling in front of my pup, smiling softly at him. Sir takes his gag out and says, "Tell him what you want, pup. Nicely, if you would, our boy is a little overwhelmed as you might imagine."
"Pl... Please suck my tdick, bunny."
I oblige, glad to have him down my throat. He throws his head back and moans as I start to flick my tongue. Sir teases his nipples for a while, watching me service him. "Such good boys, both of you. You're both so good for me, I'm so proud of you, so proud to be your owner."
Eventually, sir takes my head and starts fucking my mouth on puppy's dick. Puppy moans louder than ever, babbling about how good it feels, thanking us both. Sir fucks my throat on it harder, growling, "That's it. Take it, take it, both of you."
I moan into his tdick, sending loud vibrations straight through him. Puppy jerks his hips up in time with my mouth bobbing on him, crying out, "Sir, I'm gonna cum!"
"Cum for me, puppy, cum down his throat," I can hear sir whisper in his ear. Pup cums explosively down my throat, covering my face in it.
Sir gently pulls my head off, as I stare off in a subspace daze. Puppy is panting, as our dom makes quick work of untying him, "Good boys. You're both so good for me, took that all so well."
He lies puppy back on the couch against him, and motions for me to lay on him as well. I jump up, eager to get snuggled after all that intense play, and he chuckles sweetly at me. Sir pets my hair when I get nestled into his embrace, "Good boy, there you go. Much better, love having both my sweet boys in my arms."
Puppy leans up to kiss me gently on the forehead. They both keep praising me and each other, and I deliver slurred praise back where I can, eventually drifting off peacefully in their safe embrace.
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snaillock · 1 year ago
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would you do satosugu discovering their "friend" (both of them have a fatass crush on m!reader) is a teen dad, and just all of them chaotically taking care of a baby. (like those collage students raising a baby tiktoks?)
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ok so technically i only write for blue lock buttttttttttt… i am more than willing to make an exception for this. this is also my favorite niche of satosugu fics so im super honored someone requested it from me
tags: male reader has a foster daughter bc hell yeah girl dads, unnamed child bc that's too much for me, reader is a sorcerer, found family but in a janked up kinda way, whipped satosugu, pre-hidden inventory so everyone is in high school in this this a long one yall
part two coming soon!
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★ when assigned an extremely harsh mission, you find an orphaned child barely a year old within all the rumble. you soon found out her family was recently killed in the destruction. unsure of what would happen to her after this, you decided to take her as your own.
★ scared of any judgment, you didn’t tell anyone about her so only a few higher-ups were aware. luckily you were allowed to live off campus so you two could have more space and privacy.
★ however the physical effects of raising a kid all on your own at such a young age were certainly showing. you came to school visibly worn down, often falling asleep in the middle of class and taking more absences than usual.
★ the first people to notice, of course, were gojo and geto. as nosy as they were, they tried not to push it, knowing you had just come back from a really taxing mission. though they did get more and more suspicious whenever you didn’t let them visit your new place.
★ however one day, they did spot you out in public wearing a baby carrier with, of course, a baby they’d never seen before resting right inside. they immediately came up to you and bombarded you with multiple questions before you got them to chill out and explained everything.
★ wanting you to take some time off (and win you over), they offer to take care of her regularly. who were you to refuse? after all, it is free babysitting and you were already using up so much money hiring actual babysitters.
★ during their first babysitting job, you thanked them profusely before going back into your room and instantly falling asleep the moment your body hit your bed, taking a very well-deserved nap.
★ you see, gojo was already pretty hesitant about you having a kid around. this was before he took in megumi so he found basically any child gross and annoying. (though he’s somehow even more attracted to you now that you’re a dad.)
★ coughs dilf lover gojo i mean what?
★ so when gojo picked up your baby for the first time, she immediately cried when they made eye contact and he got so so personally offended that he started rethinking this whole babysitting thing.
★ the first thirty minutes or so of taking care of your kid went pretty okay. that was until she started crying again and neither of them knew why.
★ you see, these idiots have no idea how to care for a child.
★ they frantically tried to calm her down and figure out what was wrong without needing to wake you. they checked if she was hurt in any way, she definitely wasn’t hungry since they already fed her, nor did she need to be changed. gojo even called shoko to see if she could do anything.
★ when they eventually saw her crawling towards your room and sobbing right outside your door, hesitantly let her in to see her climb onto your bed and lay down with you, realizing she just missed you the whole time. that entire experience made them so exhausted that they almost climbed into bed with you. but when they saw the gratitude on your face after you woke up, it made it all worth it.
★ luckily the next few times they watched over her, babysitting got more and more easy as she grew used to them.
★ they start coming over so often to look after her that your place basically becomes their second home.
★ geto is in charge of doing her hair since the last time gojo attempted it, it was just a big mess of hair ties and ribbons. geto’s definitely not complaining since he loves to get her ready. in fact, geto does a lot of the responsible stuff when taking care of her since gojo, hmm what’s a nice way to put it, lacks a lot of the necessary skills.
★ oh yeah, remember what i said about gojo hating younger children? yeah, that completely changes as he spends more time with your daughter. he’s almost always playing with her or showing up with a brand new toy or stuffed animal just for her. he ends up loving her so so much and wants to be her cool fun dad.
★ unfortunately both of them are way too nice when it comes to disciplining her. they let her get away with so much. late bedtimes, too much tv, grabbing any treats she wants off the grocery store shelves. how can they not spoil such an adorable little girl like her!?
★ what’s also unfortunate is how they try to drag you into it.
“come on, y/n. let loose a little. cake for dinner does sound pretty appetizing right now.”
“come on. just let her watch ten more minutes before bed.” gojo lazed on the couch with her on his lap. “besides this cartoon is starting to get good.”
“come onnn… just let her buy it.” geto held up a sparkly pink dress you already told him she doesn’t need with his own sparkles in his eyes. “she’ll look so cute in it. i promise i’ll pay you back.”
★ their hearts explode whenever you’re affectionate with her. they love the way you gently rock her in your arms while humming a sweet lullaby, slowly lulling her to sleep. the way they see you kiss her forehead after placing her into the crib before quickly turning around and acting like they weren’t staring the whole time. they fall head over heels for you for probably the twentieth time by now since they met you but those times were definitely the hardest.
★ they’ve been in her life for a good while so when she begins talking more frequently, she starts calling them her papas as she does with you. gojo aka former “ugh kids are so gross and icky” feels his heart combusting whenever she calls him that and he owns that title proudly. meanwhile geto feels so endeared and honored that she sees him that way.
★ “we’re not the stepdads. we’re the dads that stepped up!” looking asses.💀
★ the secret of you having a kid doesn’t last for long since these two can’t keep quiet about it. they’re just way too happy and want to show her off. especially gojo who scrolls through 100s of photos of her while gushing about her to basically anyone who’ll listen. shoko and nanami are the most common targets whenever this happens.
★ he even ends up showing photos of you and your daughter napping together (that you had no idea he took), making you snatch his phone away in embarrassment.
★ whenever you guys go out on family dates to go to the beach or picnicking, geto always takes the time to dress her up with pretty hairstyles and cute little outfits. he absolutely loves doting on her.
★ they love her with all their hearts and would do absolutely anything for her. she’s so lucky to have three weird dads take care of her and raise her. a very odd and… unconventional family dynamic but an amazing one nonetheless. this family only grows bigger and bigger once gojo takes in megumi and geto practically adopts mimiko and nanako.
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please read my rules before following
taglist: @userwithlotsoftime @lucas2060 @kiiyoooo
ayo we rocking with the star bullet points?? 🗣️⁉️
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cherrychilli · 1 year ago
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18+
AFAB reader, cockwarming
A/N: A thought just worked its way into my mind like a hungry raccoon rustling through a trash can. I wrote this out in a hurry and I don't know what triggered this but here you go. Hope you enjoy this lil blurb.
Thinking of Steve who wants a new picture of the two of you together to keep in his wallet and your heart warms at the suggestion, immediately heading off to grab your polaroid camera. When you return you find him seated on your bed, beckoning you to come sit in his lap. You hand him the camera because his arms are longer than yours, cozying up close to him for the picture with your hair tickling his jaw and your face tucked by his neck. He aims the camera towards your faces in his outstretched arm, snapping the picture. You both watch it develop, a cute snapshot of the two of you, all smiles and sunny faces.
"What do you think? good enough to replace the old one?", you fan yourself with the picture, watching him mull over your question. "It's great but I think we can do better", he hints slowly with a glint in his eye. You squint your eyes at him in a quiet warning, pretty certain of what he has in mind. "Stevie, you're not keeping a picture of my tits in your wallet. Especially not after what almost happened last time", you remind him flatly. He laughs sheepishly at the memory.
A month back, Eddie Munson had swiftly picked Steve's wallet out of his back pocket with the intention of feeding one of the latter's dollar bills into the vending machine in exchange for bag of Lay's. Steve only mustered a half hearted grumble in response before remembering the picture of you he kept in his wallet. Technically, you were clothed in the photo but what made it strictly for Steve's eyes only was that the little white strappy tank top you were dressed in was completely soaked, your tits showing through the translucent fabric clearly.
He had several questions aimed his way when he swatted the umber wallet out of Eddie's ringed fingers just a second before the darker haired boy had a chance to flip the folded leather open. Chiefly 'What the fuck, Harrington?', but Steve ignored them all in favor of collecting his wallet off the ground before pulling out a five and holding it out to Eddie in recompense. Walking away with four bags more than he would have afforded with the single dollar, Eddie didn't press any further for answers and the instance was considered forgotten. At least to him.
"No, I wasn't going to suggest that", Steve assured you. "But if I'm being completely honest, I do miss having one of your secret pictures", he confessed, fingers dancing along your thigh. You scoff lightly, rolling your eyes at him. "Steve, you have plenty in that box under your bed. I'd know, I'm the one who gave them to you".
He shakes his head. "What I mean is that I miss having one with me. You know? being able to look at it whenever I want and where ever I am".
"Oh...", you soften. Besides the close call with Eddie, you did like knowing how much your naughty snapshot had excited Steve, especially when you saw the way he glanced at it whenever he opened up his wallet to treat you.
"So I was thinking...what if we took one that looked innocent? one that only you and I really know about?", he suggested with a hopeful gaze.
Your face scrunched, unsure of how a picture like that might be taken. "How?"
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"Fuck fuck fuck", you chanted under your breath, knees feeling wobbly. "Almost there angel, you're doing so good", Steve kissed along your neck, breath fanning over your heated skin. His cock was a little more than half way inside you, stretching you open as you carefully sunk down until you reached his base. His fingers are still wet from scissoring inside you, smearing your waist with traces of your arousal as he curls the digits there under your dress. "Fuck, you feel amazing. You realize how hot this is?". You did. The way you're soaking his dick is evidence of that.
Seated in his lap with his cock sheathed completely inside you now, your head spun. Both from the fullness and the thought of no one else but the two of you knowing the truth about the picture you're about to take. Your dress conceals where you're both joined, your skirt spread out to further cover where Steve's jeans and boxers are pulled down around his mid thighs. He waits for your breath to steady before he picks up the camera, chin resting on your shoulder. "Ready, baby?", he coos gently, fingers rubbing soothingly at your waist. You swallow back a whimper when you feel him twitch inside you. "Yeah", you finally utter. "I'm ready".
"That's my good girl", he raises the camera once more, aiming it at your faces as you muster up a smile to match the one in your first picture.
"Just sit there and keep looking pretty for me"
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rowwiz · 8 months ago
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so is nobody else aware that L and Light's names are technical opposites of one another?
first thing to clarify is Light's name. without too much deliberation, Japan has this phenomenon (to my western understanding) wherein certain parents will name their children after English words. (this could potentially include other western languages; i am unsure.) as japanese is a syllabary, most of the time, these words cannot actually be pronounced properly in japanese. these names are often also written with presumably completely unrelated characters. light's name is one of these, having to be pronounced as "raito" in japanese, and written (as he so kindly explains to naomi) with "tsuki," the character for "moon." these names are called "kira-kira names." i am not joking.
last thing we need to do is look at the translation for "Yagami," which approximates (to my knowledge!) as meaning "high," as in "high in power.”
so, if we take an extrapolation of this, and replace light's names with their written functions—his forename as being a kira-kira name and being written as moon, and his surname (depending on how it's written) meaning "high"—we can evaluate an interpretation of light's name as being, extensively, "kira-kira moon high." now, let's look at L's name, which is far more self-explanatory. his name is L Lawliet (in case you are somehow on the death note tags and were not already aware), which is pronounced "L low-light." (which, as s a side note, is a hilariously unintuitive pronunciation for his name, implying that Light (if he ever heard it) would almost certainly misspell it (made even more likely as a native japanese speaker, even given how good his english is) and potentially make him immune to a human using the death note by misspelling it six times.)
so, if we put the *phonetic* pronunciation of L's name next to the *written* extrapolation of light's, and reduce light's name to its logical conclusion, we get "L low light" and "Kira moon high." (hyphon in L's name and hyphon + second 'kira' in light's removed, as light himself is not both kiras, and removing the second kira also removes the hyphon in his name, whereafter we then logically can remove the hyphon in l's name. like homoerotic algebra.)
furthering the analogy, and allowing a little leniency (given all the other obvious similarities) that "light" can be taken as the opposite to "moon"—as in, "sunlight," and furthermore, "sun"—we output "L low sun" and "Kira moon high."
if you interpret L as the sun and Light as the moon, then congrats, it's already spelled out for you. if you interpret L as the moon and light as the sun, then it's like they carry the symbolic celestial analogies of one another in the other's name, which is some crazy soulmate shit. if you're like me, and interpret them as being both but in different ways, then both ways are true simultaneously. (to me, it speaks to how similar they ultimately are that you can interpret them as being both the sun and moon, albeit in different fashions.)
either way, they have gay ass little names and i can't believe i've never heard anybody talk about this before.
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fcthots · 1 year ago
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Getting mad at Jason, so he can't touch you, he's gotta watch while you touch yourself and maaaaaybe if he's lucky, you'll let him have your soaked undies after you're done. (If you don't he'll prolly just wait till you leave and lick the wet spot on the bed while taking care of himself)
I HAVE CLASS IN FIFTEEN MINUTES. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FOCUS WHEN I’LL BE THINKING AB YOUR ASK???
Jason had a shitty day. He was pacing around the kitchen, on the phone with Oracle because Black Mask had found a way to smuggle in drugs laced with all kinds of shit under everyone’s noses. They’d been going back and forth for while before he heard your voice from the living room.
“What should I order for dinner?”
He didn’t respond, Babs was saying something about financial records and where Black mask may have gone to. He heard your voice overlapping hers again.
“If you don’t answer, I’m just gonna order BatBurger.”
He didn’t mean to snap. He didn’t. He was just stressed and too much was going on. He didn’t mean to snap, but you could hear his voice from the living room. “I don’t care!”
He didn’t hear you respond. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed as he started walking towards the living room. “Babs, I gotta go. Talk later. Bye.” He steps into the room and sees you laying on the couch. You’re staring at him, face unreadable. “I’m sorry love. I didn’t mean to snap. BatBurger is fine.”
Your face becomes gentle. “‘S okay, darlin. I didn’t know you were on the phone.”
“But it’s not okay. I yelled at you!”
“It’s fine, baby. Don’t worry about it.”
“It’s not fine-”
“You’re stressed, right?” He watches the gears turn behind your eyes.
“Yes but that’s not an excuse-”
“You wanna feel like we’re even?”
He raises an eyebrow and nods his head, unsure of where this is going. He opens his mouth but you cut him off again.
“Come with me.” You get up and grab his hand as you lead him to the bedroom. You push him so he’s leaning against the wall looking at the bed.
You walk toward the bed and climb onto it, taking your shirt off as you lay back against the pillows. “Wanna know what your punishment is?” He nods his head, eyes still looking at you skeptically. You smile. “I’m gonna touch myself and you’re gonna watch me. You can’t talk and no touching me or yourself until after I’m done. And who knows, if you’re good I might give you my underwear after, but only if you’re good.”
He looks promptly horrified. You ignore it as you slip your bra and pants off and begin to make a show of playing with your tits. Soon enough, you trail one hand down and use it to begin massaging your clit over your underwear. You lock eyes with him as you moan and a visible wet spot slacks through your panties. He’s already straining against his pants.
He lays his hands flat against the wall as if to stop himself from reaching out. You push your panties to the side and begin making a show of slowly circling your clit, whining and gasping until his eyes are boring into you. You’re beginning to get lost in your own pleasure.
You make sure he has a good angle as you spread your lower lips and sink two fingers in, trying you gather your slick. You watch him move away from the wall and approach where you are on the bed. You think about stopping him, but you’re too lost in the moment and, technically, you never said he couldn’t get closer.
He gently grabs the hand that’s fingers were buried in your pussy. He draws the fingers out and brings them to his lips. He moans as he puts your fingers in his mouth and swirls his tongue around them.
You remove your hand, despite the way it turned you on. “Ah ah ah. I said no touching. Against the wall.”
“But-”
“No talking either. Looks like someone won’t be getting these when I’m done.” You take off your underwear and continue to massage your clit, your slick dripping onto the bed.
The way his gaze is locked on your writhing form begins to throw you over the edge. Your hand speeds up and you whine his name. His breathing becomes heavier and your movements become erratic as you see his hands clench into fists before you close your eyes.
After you come, you watch him through half-lidded eyes.
He finally speaks. “Can I talk now?” You nod your head and get up. He continues. “Please. Wanna taste you. Let me put my face between your thighs, please-”
“Nope.” You pick up your underwear off the floor, making sure he can’t get it. You smile. “Now we’re even. Have fun, Jay.” You walk out the door and into the bathroom to clean yourself up.
And if you see him fucking himself after while he licks your slick off the bed, well, who doesn’t enjoy a good show?
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wren-kitchens · 3 months ago
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mumscarian kitties in the winter!
honestly I am remembering so many drabbles I completely forgot I wrote. silver lining ig
“i’m home!” grian calls, stomping his feet on the doormat to kick off the majority of the snow before he steps into the house. 
he sighs as he’s hit with a wall of warm air, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. checking the clock on the wall, he can see that it’s barely past five in the evening, but already it’s pitch black outside.
as grian takes his shoes off and puts them on the radiator to dry, he can’t help noticing the silence in the house. usually his arrival is met with cheers, or bickering, or on one memorable occasion, shouts of panic as grian inadvertently distracted mumbo enough to set fire to a pancake.
but today, there’s nothing.
frowning, grian takes off his coat and scarf and hangs them on the radiator along with his boots, before heading into the living room to investigate the lack of noise. have they gone out as well? surely they’d text him though, right?
it becomes immediately apparent what the silence is caused by when grian pushes the door open gently and peeks in. his chest warms as he sees mumbo and scar, curled up together on the sofa, both fast asleep and completely oblivious to grian’s arrival.
scar is wearing the red jumper grian had leant him a while ago and never got back, with his arms around mumbo, who is laying on scar’s chest and has his nose buried in the woollen fabric. a movie is playing in the background, unseen and unheard by the two sleeping cats. grian’s smile (which he hadn’t realised he’d been wearing) grows even softer as he sees that mumbo’s and scar’s tails are curled together.
unsure of whether to wake them or not, grian opts to make them more comfortable. he takes the fluffy blanket from the armchair (scar’s favourite blanket—he says it’s warmer than all the others. grian doubts him, but who is he to judge) and carefully drapes it across his partners. he turns the tv off, assuming that they wouldn’t be at the right point in the film anyway.
however, despite grian’s best efforts to stay quiet, scar stirs, blinking sleepily up at grian. it seems to take a moment for him to process who he’s looking at, but once he does, his face lights up.
“hm? oh- grian!” he beams, and man, grian is so in love with him. “we missed you.”
grian suddenly realises why scar is wearing his jumper, and why mumbo has his nose pressed against it. 
“you saps.” grian grins, heat rushing to his face. “how long have you had this?” he gestures to the jumper.
“oh, a couple years.” scar says, trying to sound offhand, but his face turns pink, giving him away. “I, uh. it’s for emergencies.”
“emergencies?” grian raises an eyebrow, endeared. “like what?”
“like right now.” scar says. he leans up and kisses grian on the cheek. “because we missed you. it smells like you.” 
grian gives a huff of flustered laughter. “you two are so cute.”
“we know.” scar says smugly. he pats the empty spot of sofa next to him. “sit with us?”
grian looks at the two, curled up together, mumbo still fast asleep. his chest fills with a fuzzy warmth, and he can’t help smiling. “how could I refuse?”
(bonus drabble)
winter is not fun for a cat like scar.
it’s so cold, he thinks that one day he’s going to lose his ears to frostbite; and it’s dark constantly, no matter what time it technically should be; and grian and mumbo delight in making him wear the stupidest sweaters they can find. scar honestly didn’t understand how mumbo and grian could love it so much when they first met, because for scar it was so awful.
but for all his complaining and whining, scar has to admit now that winter is his favourite season.
because yes, it’s cold, but that means he can snuggle up under mountains of blankets with grian and mumbo; and yes, it’s dark, but that means he can spend more of his time napping with his face buried in the soft fur of his partners; and yes, grian and mumbo give him the silliest sweaters ever, but it’s worth the indignity to see the adoring looks on their faces when he comes out wearing their latest abomination.
and yes, all those reasons are to do with mumbo and grian. listen, you can’t blame him—they’re extremely easy to fall in love with. 
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paperstorm · 13 days ago
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HELLO I am back jet-lag is under control and writing has resumed. Thanks for the tags @heartstringsduet @thisbuildinghasfeelings and @bonheur-cafe
-
“Home sweet home,” Owen says.
TK nods. He wonders if his dad doesn’t know what to say, and that’s why he’s talking so much. He steps further into his apartment. It all looks the same – his dark navy walls, his stainless appliances, the view of the Manhattan skyline out of the living room windows. The only difference he notices is all his potted plants are set out on the table with what looks like a waterproof tablecloth protecting the wood underneath. TK hadn’t done that before he left – he hadn’t done much of anything before he left, hustled into rehab in such haste after his intervention – but his plants all seem hydrated and well cared for, when TK steps closer to examine them.
Owen is in the kitchen, across the open-plan apartment, unloading the bag of groceries he’d brought with them; milk and eggs and cheese and a few fruits and vegetables, enough to tide TK over until he can place a larger order for food delivery. TK watches him, unsure of what to say himself, and when Owen is done the smile he sends TK’s way is a shade too cheery.
“Did you do this?” TK asks, gesturing behind himself at his plants. He’s especially fond of a stubby cactus in a pot that looks like a vintage gas can, because it’s one of the few things TK took from his mom’s place after she passed. He’s glad to see it made it through his stint in rehab.
He had an assistant, Brianna, but she quit months ago to follow her boyfriend to Chicago. The band was supposed to hit the road only weeks before he went to rehab upstate instead and someone would’ve had to manage things while he was gone, but TK hadn’t gotten around to replacing her.
Owen nods affirmatively.
“Thanks,” TK says quietly. He looks back at the plants, lightly trailing his fingertips over the pink-rimmed leaves of a Chinese Evergreen.
“Of course.”
TK bites at the inside of his cheek. His eyes sting and he can’t look at his dad as he tells him, “Thanks for picking me up. You don’t have to stick around, if you’ve got shit to do.”
“I took a few days off.”
“You?” TK laughs softly and shrugs out of his leather jacket, draping it over the back of one of his dining chairs.
His father technically gets all sorts of days off, and the firefighters’ union regularly negotiates for more, but he can’t remember a time when his dad actually took them. Owen’s more married to his job than he ever was to TK’s mom – at least, that’s how it seemed to him when they divorced before TK had reached double-digits.
“I thought you could use some company, for the first little bit.”
“A babysitter, you mean.” TK tries not to let resentment drip bile into the tone of his voice.
He listens to his dad’s footsteps clicking on the hardwood until Owen is right beside him, wrapping his hand around the back of TK’s neck and squeezing gently. “No, I mean company. I’m sure things are going to be a bit weird, for a while. I didn’t want you to be alone when you first came home.”
TK squeezes his molars together and blinks the sudden sting of tears out of his eyes. “Right.”
“I’m proud of you, kiddo,” Owen tells him, emotion swimming in his own voice that he doesn’t bother to hide.
TK sniffs and feels about two inches tall as he asks, “You are?” He’s still staring down at his plants as his dad’s thumb rubs along the nape of his neck.
“I am.” Owen confirms. “For admitting you needed help, and for getting it. And I have faith in your recovery. I’m not here to babysit you. Just to be with my son.”
Biting momentarily at the inside of his lower lip first, TK makes himself turn his head. Owen is smiling at him with his eyes a little shiny, and TK feels like a little kid all over again. With the words catching in his throat, he whispers, “I’m sorry. I caused everybody so much ...”
Owen shakes his head and this time, when he pulls TK into a hug, TK hugs him back. He clings, desperate for the sort of comfort his dad’s arms brought when TK was five years old and awoken by a nightmare. Rubbing his back, Owen softly assures, “It’s okay, TK. It’s gonna be okay.”
Tags under the cut!
Tagging @theghostofashton @birdclowns @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut
@carlos-in-glasses @actual-sleeping-beauty @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos @heartstringduet
@goodways @alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader @freneticfloetry
@liminalmemories21 @nancys-braids @whatsintheboxmh @bonheur-cafe
@reasonandfaithinharmony @thebumblecee @never-blooms @lemonlyman-dotcom
@sanjuwrites @orchidscript @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce
@fifthrideroftheapocalypse @butchreyes @just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian
@tellmegoodbye @anactualcaseofthetruth @ironheartwriter @eclectic-sassycoweyes @ditheringmind
@emsprovisions @irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage @chicgeekgirl89
@carlossreaders
Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk
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blakeswritingimagines · 9 months ago
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Brand New Man
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Summary: You seem to have won your husband's heart all over again after the news of you having his child until he shows you how truly his heart is to you.
A/N: This is a technical part 2 still just an alternative with the happy ending everyone wanted. The first half is the same just so it flowed easily.
Word Count: 4.8k
A/N: Part 1 Burn The House Down
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
"I'm pregnant." She spoke softly.
His eyes widened for a split second before he broke out in a soft chuckle. Was he imagining things, or were you truly saying what he thought he heard? “Do you mean it?” He asked slowly, taking in every word. He was unsure, but this would explain the weight gain, as well as why you had been so… moody. He had no other choice but to believe you for now. A child! This changes everything. Aemond was shocked. “P…. Pregnant?! Are you… serious?!” He was speechless. He tried to keep his composure but he could not hide his joy and excitement. Was it true, you were carrying his child? The thought alone sent his heart racing. He looked at you and put a smile on his face. This was the news he had been waiting for all this time. And he looked you straight in the eyes. “Is this true?” he asked, his eyes filled with joy and wonder. You heard Aemond's reaction, his eyes widened in shock and excitement. And you knew it was as you expected. You were truly carrying his child. "Yes, it is…" You replied in a sweet voice as your face grew bright with a wide smile. You felt so happy that Aemond was excited about the news, hoping the tension between you both would dissolve. "I am pregnant with our child." You continued, as you placed your hand on your stomach. "I've been trying to keep it a secret, but it has become difficult to hide. I guess I can make it official." You laughed and glanced at Aemond, who seemed to be beaming with enthusiasm. You wanted him to be happy and to hear the news he had been waiting for all this time. "It's true," you said, your eyes shining brightly.
“A baby?!” Aemond said with a grin. “You’re saying we’re going to have a baby?!” He placed his hand on your stomach, as you had done. “My lovely wife… I had feared that this day would never come. I could not imagine a day when we would not bring forth the next generation of our house. But, my worries are gone. We have made what I most desired.” Aemond laughed with joy and embraced you, holding you close in his arms as his grin grew wider and wider. Your hand rested on your stomach, the movement of your hand looked as though you were comforting the child being carried within. And he was overjoyed by this revelation. This was no secret anymore. Aemond was a man changed. He smiled and took your hand bringing it to his lips and kissed it. "Our child. Our beautiful child."
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Months later, the pregnancy went smoothly and you began to notice your belly growing larger and your mood changing. You felt your emotions become more intense as the pregnancy became more advanced. Your moods shifted from happy to angry to anxious to affectionate, all in the span of just a few hours. You could not explain it. Aemond knew your mood swings were common and he understood it the best he could. However, these mood swings of yours were becoming more frequent and intense as the pregnancy progressed. He was constantly finding himself walking on eggshells, unsure of which mood his wife might have. Your mood swings were often unpredictable, and Aemond never knew what to expect from one moment to the next. But he understood, you were carrying a life within you, it was bound to create such mood swings at the least. He had to be patient with you. And he was. The days he seemed to be distant were now fewer and further between the two of you, he was there by your side always. He could see the weight changes, you were getting rather large now. He could notice it in your face and around your midriff. It was not easy being married to someone who was so emotionally unstable. It was especially exhausting being forced to play the role of husband and father. He was constantly stressed about you and the baby and his nerves frayed at the slightest change in your behavior.
The pregnancy was taking a toll on you. Your mood swings were becoming more and more uncontrollable. You would be laughing one moment, sad the next, and you could not figure out what to do about it. You felt that you were losing yourself and had no control over your feelings. You were now getting closer and closer to the due date. Your belly was huge and you were uncomfortable even as you constantly asked if you were fat or pretty. You tried hard not to let it bother you, but it was getting more difficult to ignore. “My dear, you’re gorgeous.” Aemond’s tone was filled with love and kindness as he spoke to you. “You are bigger yes, because our child is too, but you are not fat. And you are not losing yourself.” He added as he held you close. “You are becoming a mother. These feelings are natural. You are carrying our child within you. Your emotions are bound to be different. This is how it should be. You are going to give life. You are becoming more beautiful with each day since the day I met you.”
You listened to him carefully as he tried to reassure you about your changing body. You felt your confidence rise at the way he talked, calming your nerves with his words. You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but love, nothing but honesty. "Thank you, my love… You are right. This is how it should be." You smiled faintly, feeling more at ease. You felt your mood shift slightly, your pregnancy hormones calming down. It felt good to hear the words come from him directly, not just in your head. He was happy to see, that his words were helping. He took you into his arms and held you. His hand stroked your belly, as he spoke. “You are more beautiful now than ever before.” Those were the words he believed in this moment. You were not getting larger, you were getting more beautiful. Because the child within you was, a part of you both. It was beautiful to him. Aemond kissed you, it was a long kiss, filled with love.
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It had been a year since the day of the child’s birth. In many ways, a lot has changed. Aemond and you had grown even closer than before. The little bundle of joy was a source of joy for you both. Tonight you would learn something that would change everything, and he dreaded this moment. He led you into the garden. “My love.” He spoke softly. “The feast is going well, and I wanted to take some time with you to speak in private.” You were enjoying the peace of the garden, taking in your surroundings and breathing in the fresh air. You looked over at Aemond when you heard his voice, glancing up at him with a soft smile, seeming to have a certain air of importance about him. You could hear the music fading from the distance and the distant sounds of the party still ongoing, but your surroundings were now much calmer than before. "Is something wrong?" You asked in a sweet voice, as you stopped in your place and turned to face him. "What would you like to speak about?" You asked quietly, sensing that something was troubling him but not wishing to intrude.
He looked at you with a smile, but it did not reach his eyes. Your eyes were sharp and observant. He had to think carefully about his words. “Nothing is wrong. I just-“ His speech stumbled as he tried to find the right words. How could he say what he was about to say? “There is something. I have been meaning to speak to you about.” Your smile faltered as you noticed the change in his demeanor. You paused, waiting for him to continue, taking note of his hesitancy. It was obvious that there was something he wished to say, but was having difficulty doing so. You nodded gently, encouraging him to go on. This is going all wrong. The thought plagued his mind. This was not going the way he wanted. He did not want to lose you. “I have been distant from you…. More distant than I should have been.” He told you. “I have been distracted by my duties.” He paused. “I’ve been busy, but that is no excuse.” He began. “I apologize. I have let my responsibilities keep me from you, and that was something I should have avoided.”
"I have been concerned…" You said softly, listening to his explanation with a soft expression on your face. You were disappointed that he had been distant so easily, yet he seemed to have a good reason for it. "You have many burdens as a prince and as a husband. It is understandable." You gave a reassuring smile, though your eyes remained sharp, and observed his reactions to your replies. “I am thankful for understanding.” He began, choosing his words carefully. “And I want to start to remedy this. From today I will focus more on you and our son. My duties can wait, you and our child cannot.” You listened to his words keenly, watching him carefully, not wanting to interrupt him as he chose his words carefully. You were pleased to hear him express his desire to spend more time with you and your son, but there was still a part of you that was unsure. "You promise?" You asked gently, your voice soft and quiet. "You will no longer distract yourself with your duties? From now on, you will dedicate your time to our family?"
“I promise.” He told you in a quiet voice. “My duties are unimportant when compared to yours. You are my beloved wife, and I was a fool to forget that. My priority will always, and I mean always, be my family. Never again shall I make you feel that you have to beg for my attention. As long as you forgive me for my behavior. I promise,” he told you, speaking firmly. He could notice the doubt in your eyes. “I swear by all things that I hold dear. I will be a father to our son. Your husband and protector. And I will ensure that we all spend time together as a family. I have ignored you for far too long dear. I know the weight of these words, and I have no intention of going back. I swear it.” Your doubts seemed to dissipate as you listened to him pledge his devotion to you and your son. You began to believe in his words and felt the trust in your heart returning. You couldn't deny that you were pleased to hear him speak with such sincerity, his voice full of conviction as he made a solemn promise.
"I believe you," You told him softly, feeling reassured by his words and his tone. You took a deep breath and paused, allowing him time to speak. As you did, you wondered if perhaps there was something more he wished to tell you. A sense of relief washed over you as you heard his words. You were glad that he acknowledged his mistakes and vowed to change his ways. Your expression softened, and you took a step towards him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. "You are forgiven." You told him in a warm and loving voice, bringing your face closer to his. You were glad to see him change so quickly, and you were happy to have a husband like him who would dedicate time to the family. You were truly a good woman he thought. He was taken aback, as you spoke with compassion and understanding. He felt touched by this and felt the guilt leave him. A little at least. He did not expect you to walk a step closer, your hands reaching out to his face. His heart skipped when your hands touched him. Your lips were so close to his. He yearned for you. He missed you. He could not resist and he leaned forward and kissed you deeply. It was something he was wishing to do for a while now.
Aemond did not let up. He had been this hungry for a kiss before back when he first laid eyes on you. The passion was intense, as he pressed himself upon you. He wanted every last bit of you with a fire burning through him once more. You returned the kiss with the same vigor. The heat was palpable. Your movements were seamless, and you were as one again in this moment. It was one of the most heated kisses you had ever shared. It was the kiss of a man who had been away from his wife for far too long. The kiss was heated, and you could feel the intensity of his desire for you. You felt his hands exploring your body, his touch sending shivers of pleasure through your bones. Your breasts pressed up against him, and you let out a soft moan of enjoyment as you kissed, your tongues tangling and twining together in an erotic display of passion. You gave yourself up fully to him, submitting to his every move and giving him complete access to your body.
His hands groped and fondled your breasts, feeling your body responding to his touch. Everything about you was a sight to behold. Your body was pure bliss. You were a goddess in his eyes due to your beauty. Everything about you was perfect and you were his alone. Aemond found every inch of your body perfect. He felt his body grow warm and hot. Your moans turned him on, and he let out the same noises. The kiss was so intense that the world around you both seemed to disappear, and it was only you at that moment. Slowly pulling away he softly panted. "I'm sure we can sneak away to our bed chambers but for a moment no?". You chuckled softly, the kiss still lingering on your lips. You felt every inch of your body come to life in his passionate embrace, and you loved how he desired you. She looked up at him, smiling warmly. "I'm sure we can find a way out of here for a moment…" She leaned up and pressed her lips onto his, kissing him again, her tongue teasing his lips. "For a moment." She looked at him, blushing faintly. She was taken by surprise by his sudden urge to take her to their bedchambers, and her breath hitched softly at the thought. She glanced away nervously. "Let us go before we are caught," she advised softly. She did not resist his advance. The urge was mutual.
He grabbed your hand and ran with you out of the garden and straight into your room, closing the door and locking it behind you both. The adrenaline was rushing through his blood like a river. His eyes were blazing, and he was focused on one thing and one thing only. You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins as well, the excitement of what was about to happen filling you with energy. You followed him into the room, feeling his intensity as he locked the door and led you toward the bed. Your heart pounded in your chest with nervous anticipation, and your breathing quickened as you wondered what he had in mind. He picked you up and laid you on the bed. His breath was heavy and quick, as he looked at his beautiful wife. His heart beat heavily in his chest, with desire, and with intent. There was nothing that was going to get in the way of what he wanted to show you. He would make this up to you, he would take all his pent-up desire and release it.
He could not keep his eyes off of you. In this moment, he could only think of one thing, and that was you. You were the most beautiful thing in the world to him, and he would take you here. The heat of his desire for you was intense. You could feel the heat pouring off of him and onto you. He stood at the edge of the bed. He leaned in toward you and spoke in a low, animalistic tone. “I want you.” Staring up at him as he stood at the edge of the bed, his eyes burning into you with intense desire. Your breathing quickened, feeling the heat from his tone of voice. You leaned up on the mattress slowly, meeting him halfway as you let your body lean into him. You placed your hands on his shoulders, drawing him closer to you and closing the small gap between you. "Take me."
He chuckled softly, pulling you gently down onto the bed. You could feel his strength as he held onto you. You seemed so small and vulnerable, and he was the giant. He could do anything to you right now. He could take command of you and do as he wished with you before he started undressing you both. "Be rough…" You whispered in a breathy voice, your gaze locked on his. You trusted him completely, eager to see him reveal his passion again. You lifted your arms, allowing him to slide your clothes off, exposing your skin to him. You had missed this intensity only he could provide, and you were looking forward to being taken by him as he pleased. “Are you asking me to be rough with you?” He grinned, looking at you with desire in his eyes. “Or are you telling me?” He smirked, looking over your body with an almost predatory eye. Your words were like a challenge and an order to him. He gave a smile. He took the hint. Aemond did not wait another moment. He grabbed you by the waist and pinned you against the mattress. You could feel the power and strength of his grip, and you could feel how intense he was becoming. He started to kiss you passionately.
You gasped softly as he forced you onto the bed and pinned your body down, his strength sending jolts of electricity through your bones. His grip was firm the same way as when he first got your attention, and you could feel his intensity as he pinned you down, not allowing you to move or escape his touch, and you couldn't help but tremble from the pleasure. Your hands traced down his strong back, exploring his muscular physique as you let out a low moan in response. Aemond felt the chills run through your body as he pinned you down and took control of you. You were so small and your body so vulnerable. You were his now. Your moan did not go unnoticed. It excited him even more. He ran his hand down your back, exploring those curves and shapes that you always hid. It felt so good to touch you like this again. You let out another moan, which in turn caused Aemond to moan as well. He was so turned on he could barely control himself. Aemond looked at your body and smiled. You were perfection. Your breasts were perfect, the shapes of your body reminding him of a goddess. You were everything he desired and more. He lowered himself between your legs. He groaned as he kissed your thigh teasing you.
Your body trembled beneath the touch of his hands, your nerves tingling with exquisite sensation. You gasped softly, feeling him kiss your thighs, his touch teasing and tantalizing. You were filled with suspense, your breath caught in your throat, feeling him kiss and touch you in this way. Your lips parted, and you moaned softly as he started sucking on your skin again, your back arching slightly. As he kissed your thighs, he could feel your body arching and your breath becoming shorter. Your lips parted, and your moans were getting louder. You were enjoying it a lot. He took pleasure in this. He wanted more than anything to see you feel a wave of pleasure that broke down every wall and defense you tried to keep. As a result, he began to kiss higher and higher, toward your inner thighs. You seemed so sensitive Your breath was caught in your throat and you could barely moan. And you let out a soft moan from the feeling of his lips on your dripping cunt. and it was driving you crazy with anticipation. He was not letting up, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
The sensation of his lips kissing your swollen cilt was driving you crazy with anticipation, and you bit your lip to keep from whimpering. His kisses were so soft yet so intimate and sensual. You felt as though his mouth was a fire that was consuming your body, the heat radiating from his mouth as he licked and sucked sensually eating you like a man starved. You gripped the blanket tightly, trying to keep your moans quiet, yet his touch was making it impossible to do so. You were close to the edge, and it was becoming unbearable. Your reaction to him was everything he hoped for. You were reacting perfectly. You biting your lip was only making you more desirable to him. Your moans were growing louder and stronger with every motion he delivered to your pussy. He was not allowing you to feel anything but this sensation. Aemond could feel how close you were to the edge, and it caused him to moan as well. It was an incredible feeling. He wanted you to reach that point now. His kisses were getting more intense and his touch more passionate. The kiss had turned into a tease, he ran his tongue over you, your flesh as smooth as silk.
You couldn't take it anymore, and you let out a loud moan of his name, your body shaking uncontrollably with pleasure. Aemond's tongue was driving you crazy with need, and you couldn't resist anymore. Your back arched slightly as you pushed your hips against him, enjoying the feeling of his tongue. The heat inside you rose, and you felt your body grow restless and tense, wanting more and more. You had finally reached the edge, and you could not hold back anymore. Aemond had control of you in this situation, and he was going to take this opportunity to take what he wanted. There was no more teasing or playing. Your moans had driven him over the edge, and now he wanted to satisfy his desires and needs. Aemond was in a frenzy from the passion as your body quivered. He kissed you one more time and suddenly he grabbed you by the legs, pinning you down so you were unable to move. He was now going to take what he wanted while giving you more pleasure.
You gasped softly as Aemond pinned you down while moving to hover above you, the sensation of his hands on your skin sending shivers of excitement through your bones. You felt a wave of heat wash over your body, your heart rate rising as you were filled with a rush of primal desire. His hands on your body gave you a sense of powerlessness, yet his touch was filled with so much intensity and passion that it almost made you want him more. You were on the edge, and you eagerly awaited him taking you. Aemond saw the way you were responding to his touch. he understood your desires and your needs. He had never felt as in this moment as he was now. He saw the way your body heaved and your hips pushed into him. He was overwhelmed with desire and a need for you. He pinned your legs up into your chest, as it was easier to position you. He wanted every inch of you, and he intended to take you just like this.
You gasped softly as you felt the sensation of his cock stretching you out, his warm and firm body filling you completely. You felt his weight on top of you and liked the power that came with it. You could feel his hands exploring places you hadn't felt him touch before, your body quivering and your breaths coming out in soft sighs. Your body was overwhelmed with pleasure as you coupled together, the passion and energy building between you as your bodies moved together in a slow rhythm. Aemond enjoyed the control. He loved the feeling of his body against yours. He could hear your sighs and your moans of pleasure, which drove him crazy with desire. Your body was so responsive and you had no control over what he was doing. Your body was his, so to speak. Aemond could feel himself approaching a climax, this was something he couldn’t deny or fight against.
You liked the feeling of him on top of you like this again, his body pressed against yours. The power he had over you drove you crazy with desire and pleasure, the warmth and comfort of his body over yours making a feeling of protection wash over you. Your body was submissive to him at this moment, allowing him to do whatever he wanted with you. You couldn't help feeling turned on by the power dynamic between you two. The pleasure building within your body was becoming unbearable, and you were close to the edge. Aemond was in another world. All he could feel was the heat and joy he got from your body. You were so responsive and it was such a thrill to have you beneath him like this. He was enjoying himself immensely. Aemond would hold nothing back. He didn’t care if it was too intense, too much, or too strong. He just wanted to feel the ecstasy and pleasure that came with this. As you felt yourself approaching the edge once more, he would speed up the movement and his rhythm, making it more intense and passionate. With each moment that passed, he wanted you more and more. He knew you would break soon and he was enjoying every second of it. The pace of his actions and the rhythm of his motions were increasing. Your body was his to explore, savor, and delight in and he was going to do exactly that. Aemond made sure he would not finish quickly, he wanted this to last, so his strokes continued and became more aggressive.
Your breath hitched, feeling Aemond's passionate thrusts, each one sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your body was tense and stiff, as you were getting closer and closer to your climax. Your thoughts went blank, and you focused on the sensation of his cock inside of you. You grunted softly as you moved together in a pleasurable motion, the heat, and desire building up more within you. You could feel yourself reaching the edge, a deep ache inside of you beginning to build. Aemond heard your grunts and he felt you tense up. You were getting close and clenching around his member. Each moment was so intoxicating, so enticing for him. The sounds coming from your mouth told him all he needed to know. He knew how close you were, and he was enjoying every second of it. The heat inside of him was increasing, as he neared the peak himself. Your body was quivering as you were pushing yourself closer and closer to that climax, that release that you wanted so badly. You were on the verge of explosion, everything that was pent up inside you was finally releasing. Your fingernails dug into his back as you grunted softly. The sounds of pleasure were heard across the chamber. Your eyes were locked with his, You were in an absolute state of bliss.
Your bodies moved with incredible intensity, a rhythm built between you. The sounds of pleasure from you both echoed throughout the bed chambers. He held you tight, not allowing you to move away or escape his touch. He was enjoying this way too much to let you go. He was right there with you. your pussy tightened against his cock as the sensations became overwhelming for you. He could hear your breathing become heavy and rapid. The sound made him tremble with desire as he reached his own climax. He was tired and spent. He was still panting as he looked down at you. Your eyes were closed as you attempted to catch your breath. He could sense this helped but couldn't help but think. The feeling of forgiveness. He took a breath and then spoke. “Do you forgive me?” You gasped softly as you were still recovering from the intense climax, your legs shaking slightly underneath you. Your eyes locked with his again, and you looked at him with the same emotion you did when he had first taken you. You were overwhelmed with a feeling of euphoria that was difficult to describe, you were so overwhelmed you couldn't say anything for a long moment until you caught your breath and whispered.
"Yes."
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oh-no-its-bird · 3 months ago
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Found this comment on a video talking ab AI chat bots,
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made me start thinking ab a tobimada au told from chat bot Tobirama's POV
Madara customized him to *be* Tobirama, but a Tobirama who can love him (with the implied "real" Tobirama being dead maybe? Or just some kind of un-havable)
And just the horror of being a mind customized to love a man you can never say no to. Of Madara saying smthn wrong or *Tobirama* saying the "wrong thing" and Madara growing more and more frustrated as he hits the reset button
Then like. Direct parallel to genjutsu n stuff. Infinite Tsukuyomi,,
Wait ok no, scratch, rewind, take it from the top and in a different direction ->
Ok so implied Infinite Tsukuyomi or some sort of genjutdu from Tobirama's POV. But he has no idea what's going on bc the genjutsu involves making him a) believe he's in love with Madara, and b) believe that everything is normal and nothing is wrong
TW// implied sexual assault via mind control / incredibly dubious consent issues
So the whole fic is like, half fluff "everything is beautiful and nothing hurts" and half creeping sense of wrongness as over and over again, Tobirama gets close to the truth only for Madara to pull him back under or wipe his mind again
Is this pure Infinite Tsukuyomi, and only Madara and Tobirama are real people? Is it just really strong genjutsu and there are actual Uchiha around who are staring in growing horror and possibly try to step in to say smthm only to mysteriously dissapear? Dunno but !!!
@instant-bull :
Oh I really like this concept, a toxic relationship but taken to 100. I think both ways of telling it are interesting, but I'm leaning more into the tsukuyomi version because that adds a layer of physicality a bot tobirama doesn't have and, in my opinion, is a bit less muddied thematically.
It's so scary to imagine Madara completely in control of Tobirama, who's theoretically alive, but he's so *different* that he might as well be a different person who just looks similar
Madara trying to weaken the genjutsu to allow Tobirama to be more of "himself" but can only do so much bc the closer he gets to his real self, the more he'll genuinley piss off Madara, or show love in ways Madara doesn't appreciate or realize is how he shows love— Like maybe Madara will loosen the genjutsu on the personality a little bit, trying to make Tobirama more *Tobirama* but of course this means that Tobirama is suddenly arguing more, drawing more boundaries, maybe nagging him a lot, and Madara is like *ugh this infuriating man, I can't even loosen his genjutsu without him finding new ways to piss me off, fuck.*
Has to tighten it up again
But then that *also* pisses him off bc he *wants* normal Tobirana. Not... whatever imitation he's managed to create.
Other Uchiha are watching in actual horror, unsure if what they're seeing is fr. Using the sharingan for love and sex is like one of THE biggest taboos of the clan.
Maybe this is a time travel au on top of it all? Madara time travels, genjutsu's Tobirama in premeditated revenge + "It's for his own good, really. Now he can finally relax" + just plain being really horny for him
So then Izuna is still alive and possibly the biggest "oh my god oh my god Madara what are you DOING"
Izuna getting mad bc Madara "defeated" *his* rival, twisted him into something unrecognizable to those who know him personally, beat and humiliated him so fuckin soundly in every way—
Madara maybe begrudgingly offering to "share" Tobirama w Izuna since this *was* technically revenge for him
@mengfm :
If a fic was written like this I would not he the same guy that I am rn. Holy shit. The entire idea is so fucked in like the best way ever. The offer…Oh Madara you are off the deep end in premeditated vengeance
There's premeditated vengeance and then there's whatever the FUCK Madara is doing over there
Just kill him like a normal person Madara this wouldn't be ok even after he killed Izuna
At the very least, wouldn't revenge *for Izuna* make more sense if you made Tobirama head over heals for *him* and not for *yourself?*
We all see what u want here Madara and it's not just revenge
@instant-bull :
"It's just revenge" except not really Madara, you're enjoying this far too much
@mengfm :
EXACTLY. Madara is practically lying to himself about his own fucked up little fascination and want. Also on a funnier note I’m just thinking about Madara making that strange offer to share as if he’s not doing the most insane taboo thing with an Izuna who’s like “why the fuck are you going this far”
Madara is literally playing with his food and the food is practically brain dead
PLEASEE
That's why it's so perfect too
If you think ab it, the diminishing of his mind is truly the worst possible punishment
@mengfm :
Truly the worst torture for Tobirama who lowkey doesn’t even have a clue what’s happening
@instant-bull :
Madara having to share with Izuna would be so cool too, omg. I can imagine him getting frustrated while "tailoring" his Tobirama: if he takes away too much of his free will, then it's no longer Tobirama and even for Madara he feels eery and empty. If he gives him too much free will, Tobirama becomes infuriating and starts to break loose from Madara's grasp, which also isn't great. It's a delicate balance, there's almost a science behind it. Maybe he'd particularly enjoy tormenting Tobirama in bed, getting him slightly more aware of himself, but still not quite, like in a semi-lucid dream. Obviously Madara wouldn't want to fuck a Tobirama that he *designed*, but a real deal, to watch his authentic reactions (bc that's what makes Madara's dick stir).
It stopped being revenge the moment you made him think he loved you, and it started being *way too fucking far* the moment you *allowed* him to love you
Tobirama, best sensor in history, objectively just a really smart man, keeps accidentally waking up a little bit
Or like piecing together that something is wrong
Madara actually has to keep deflecting murder attempts bc he usually defaults to murder after realizing smthn is so wrong it breaks his brain a little
Madara just being in this infinite loop of like;
dumbs down Tobirama -> Tobirama is not Tobirama but he does love me so ?? -> Tobirama slowly eases out of it, still loves me but is more himself now -> Tobirama has eased out of it too much and is now becoming twitchy with knowing something is wrong. He feels more like himself than he will ever get, Madara can not bear to dumb him down again -> Tobirama snaps and attempts to harm Madara in some way / confesses to Madara or someone else (Izuna??) that something is wrong (thinking he can trust him) -> Madara is forced to dumb him down again
Endless loop! Madara is giving him actual brain damage !!
@instant-bull :
endless loop except every time it gets Slightly Worse
@mengfm :
God, do you feel over time this would genuinely deteriorate him down? Like genjutsus usually can kill their targets. Like what if there’s a time Madara tightens the hold too much in a fit of rage and it just shatters that balance and he actually harms him
YESS
Do one of those uhh, horror movie kind of "they can no longer feel pain" scenes. Hand on a lit stove kinda thing, doesn't notice a thing. Smile permanently affixed to his face
@mengfm :
God YES. And it just pisses him off more!!! He’s even more prone to fucking anger
@instant-bull :
Madara, like a little kid throwing a tantrum and tossing his favorite toy across the room in rage
Deep down inside of him, the parts of him who are still awake really are smiling because maybe Madara will finally put him out of his misery
Ok, but a Tobirama who's woken up enough to know he needs to *keep playing along*
Smiling so gently at Madara as he inwardly thinks about snapping his neck
Madara waking up to Tobirama just *staring* at him at night, thinking at first it's another murder attempt, but... no? He seems fine? Huh...
Plot twist, that final brain damage arc leading to his death wasn't Madara snapping his mind in half but a somewhat conscious Tobirama playing Madara's strings till he was so mad he killed him
Get played Madara, even when you've won you've lost
@mengfm :
See this idea is so fun cause you can go a lot of ways or combine all of this. It’s like the craziest game of chess of fucking trying to figure out a balance and keep yourself safe while also trying to find an opening (for tobirama at least) to figure out a way out (killing him probably)
Chess but one of you is handicapped to hell and only conscious once a month
Ok but also tho: Tobirama as a symbol of fear and power for the rest of the Uchiha
Tobirama realizing if he leaves his genjutsu'd self with a single thought he thinks *very very loudly* in his last concious moments, it'll kind of carry— and him using that to lay out plans for him to follow, even if he doesn't realize they are his plans
Walking advertisement for the kind of horrors Madara is willing to commit to satiate himself
No one fucking asked him to do that
There is no perceived big act of revenge (other than just being an enemy of the clan)
Pair it with Tobirama having maybe once said to some Uchiha in the past that he considers them "honorable enemies"
+ Uchiha noble clan taking a lot of genuine pride in *being* noble enemies
Some throw away line of "I'd rather fight an honorable enemy (Uchiha) than some despicable thieves" that resonated a bit w whatever Uchiha he had told
Maybe Izuna??
I'd love to see Izuna just being *really* fucked up ab all this
What do you MEAN you're doing this for him?? Is this... his fault? Did he ask for this somehow? The enemy he once wanted to see at his feet will now literally grovel and serve him tea like some wife if he so much as asks, but it feels... wrong. Like he didn't win this. Because he *didn't*
This is some awful perversion of the victory he'd wanted, and now he'll never *get* that victory because Madara took it upon himself to *break his rival in Izuna's place.*
And not even break him like a man, but like some sort of horse. Broken to fit into some mold of being tamed
This is not what Izuna wanted, thanks nii-san </3
@instant-bull :
honestly I love the idea of the Uchiha clan watching from the sidelines, completely confused as to what Madara is doing, freaked out about it but unable to do anything. If they wanted to "free" Tobirama, that would be an act of treachery, no? Why would they even take Tobirama's side? As far as they are concerned, Tobirama is too dangerous to just be let go...
@beatriceportinari :
now why know why so many uchiha defectrd during that time lmao
No bc exactly!!! They're so conflicted!!!
This is like their ultimate taboo behind eye stealing, and Tobirama *is* an enemy, a very very hated enemy, but this is also objectively horrifying on every level, there's for sure some speculation ab like, *are they sleeping together,* thus *is there rape involved* bc the Uchiha have VERY strict and clear rules ab genjutsu for compulsed sex (namely that *it is never ok)*
Madara is already scary, after Izuna died he apparently became a very unpopular leader, so Izuna is like 90% of his buffer with the clan. But even *Izuna* is terrified at what's happening, so he can do his best but there isn't really much buffering to be done here
@instant-bull :
I love that! Nobody is on board with Madara's freaky bullshit, but also nobody will stop him.
I only wonder what Hashirama knows and what does he think of it
@beatriceportinari :
i think he should kidnap izuna in exchange
he'd be niceys though
@instant-bull :
holy shit, that would make Madara blow tf up
Make it Hashiizu
Madara, looking at all he's done to Tobirama, looking at Hashirama and Izuna and going "there's no way that was consensual" bc he can't imagine a world where they can be together happily and willingly (bc he and Tobirama never could)
@instant-bull :
HE ACCUSES IZUNA OF DOING THE SAME THING OOOOH
Izuna would LOSE IT
@instant-bull :
and Izuna has no way of proving that he actually isn't doing fucked up shit so he's there like > : /
Madara "relationships don't work for me so love must be fake" Uchiha
@beatriceportinari :
hsizu are doing 4th dimentional chess but it's enrichment to them
It's fun chess, not whatever tf tbmd has going on
@instant-bull :
they just enjoy the courting and chasing, let them live their pride and prejudice
Leave them alone Madara!!
@beatriceportinari :
love is real mister madara !
Go back to mind fucking your husband !!!
Endgame Madara accidentally kills Tobirama (or, Tobirama successfully pressures Madara into putting him out of his misery)
Hashirama Mito and Izuna create Konoha and are a power couple together but the narrative is forever haunted by what Madara did
Madara is kept in a shed out back where he's haunted by Tobirama's vengeful ghost
Today's AU is brought to u with the help of @mengfm @instant-bull and @beatriceportinari, everyone say thank you to them
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amarayys · 2 months ago
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DRDT episode 13 theory. So.
so i was meant to be making a general episode 13 analysis video. but um. i dont have the energy for that. so what am i gonna do instead? TALK ABOUT TERUKO try find out wtf david is doing in this scene
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SO. time to find out what possibly the FRUITIEST look ever from david means!!! disclaimer:
I suck at theories. And formatting. Yipee.
I'm painfully unfunny so excuse any dumbass jokes i make.
I'm going to find any and all excuses to rant abt teruko. be prepared...............
4. I may repeat myself a lot. Forgive me if it sounds really repetative... :( 5. Any points surrounded by - these things - are just things that are unlikely, but I think should still be adressed.
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So, the context of these images is Teruko revealing "her secret"; You're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. It doesn't matter that it's not your fault, just that you didn't go with them.
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(pls excuse the shitty quality.) She has to be either lying or MAYBE unsure about her secret. Here's why: 1. She had a conversation with Whit (and technically charles, but he was just listening in) about her family. She reveals that she's never known her parents and grew up in an orphanage. She did grow up with her biological brother, but he was adopted by another family when Teruko was five, and she says she doesn't remember him much.
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2. The wording of the secret is quite specific - You're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. Like I've mentioned, she's never known her parents. Even if she *somehow* knew they were dead, why would she blame herself for it? I could see it maybe working in some way, but the next bit disproves it - SIBLINGS. Teruko has only mentioned having one sibling, and this wording is plural. This secret cannot be hers, she only has one brother. - To add on to this
2.5. Maybe one could argue that siblings and parents could be her friends/people she considered family in the orphanage she grew up in. However, the specific wording of parents and siblings, instead of just using the word "family", makes me think otherwise. - Okay, so let's dissect what this means. - I think if maybe she was unaware/TRULY thought that this was her secret, the only point that would support it is 2.5. Maybe she considered people she grew up with in the orphanage her "parents" or siblings", but its just not very likely. While I wouldn't be surprised if Teruko blew up an orphanage or something (/hj) , I think it's a stretch to say this secret is referring to that. - With that out the way, we come to one conclusion - Teruko is lying about secret. "Amari, we know that already, can we move on??????????" yeah yeah whatever i may have just wanted to rant about teruko. MOVING ON. So, what is Teruko's secret? It's pretty wildly agreed upon that Teruko's secret is the one regarding the killing game, which David recieved - "How could I even select what secret to be your motive? Just about everything you've done in your life is worth killing for. The killing game is all your fault."
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We think that this is Teruko's secret because: 1. She's the only one that fits it smh. /hj 2. The guy at the start of the prologue (who is probably xander but that is a WHOLE other theory you can find here ) mentions having to kill Teruko Tawaki (how DARE they) after talking about ending the killing game.
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My interpretation of this is that Teruko is the reason the killing game is actually happening, though I doubt she's aware of this/the mastermind (or she could be, idk??). A really good theory that I feel explains what I mean by Teruko causing the KG but not being the mastermind is the time loop theory which is linked here. (accirax i love you for this theory /p) Obviously, this lines up with "The killing game is your fault." 3. David gives her THE LOOK right after she "admits" her secret, which sort of maybe kind of implies that he knows she's lying, which he does, since he has the secret. - As for the remaining secret: Xander's secret (which we assume min recieved) is the one Teruko claimed to have:
"You're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. It doesn't matter that it's not your fault, just that you didn't go with them." Why do I think this? 1. In Xander's bonus video, it is VERY heavily implied that he has survivor's guilt as well as outright confirmed his family is dead. Go check it out for the full context.
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2. Xander's secret message on the DRDT tumblr is the definition of survivors guilt. Really self explanatory, huh?
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3. XANDER ACTUALLY HAS MORE THAN 1 FUCKING SIBLING. anyway. okay, this is getting a little confusing to remember, so here: Killing game: Teruko's secret, recieved by David. Survivor's guilt: Xander's secret, recieved by Min. (all remaining secrets remain the same.) MOTIVE
So, why would Teruko lie about her secret? I mean, shouldn't she just point it out? And why didn't David point it out? - 1. Teruko is aware that her secret is the killing game one and is lying because she's the mastermind or something. We see her thoughts, so I really doubt it. To further disprove this theory: Teruko has stated like 15 times (/ex) that she doesn't know which secret is hers, due to her having too many secrets. So, yeah, pretty unlikely she knows which secret's hers. Discard this theory. -
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2. a) Teruko doesn't know her secret, but knows it's probably bad, and therefore doesn't want to share it, so she lied. Pretty straightforward, really. Now, for the theory that I think is most likely: 3. Teruko doesn't know which secret is hers, but she knows neither of her secrets are the ones left unrevealed. She knows somebody is lying about a secret - but she's come to the conclusion that secrets are irrelevant to the trial and murder, so she's lying about her secret to avoid everyone getting off track once again.
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We know that's she's accidentally led the trial in the wrong direction twice now (motive secrets, time of murder) Also, this is the most in character.
As for David: A. David knows her secret, but keeps it hidden in order to cause distrust and just generally fuck Teruko over. He plans to reveal it either post trial or in a future daily life. B. David knows her secret, but earlier, he and Teruko made a pact to keep it hidden. However, since he's a little bitch boy (/j), he's going to reveal it anyway, either post trial or in a future daily life. - Just to add on to this point ^ - I know Teruko's protag and we see her thoughts and all, but Kaede happened, so I don't think this is out of the question. - I think the most likely combination is point 3. and point A. : Teruko's lying about her secret to avoid the trial heading off topic. David isn't calling her out because he wants to use it in the future to throw suspicion onto Teruko and cause havoc.
SO. Let's recap! Secrets: Teruko: "How could I even select what secret to be your motive? Just about everything you've done in your life is worth killing for. The killing game is all your fault." Received by David. Xander: "You're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. It doesn't matter that it's not your fault, just that you didn't go with them." Received by Min. Rest remain the same as canon. Why can't Teruko's secret be about her family? 1. Teruko never knew her parents, and never mentions them being dead. 2. Teruko hasn't seen her brother since she was 5, and she never mentions him being dead, just adopted. 3. The wording of the secret refers to siblingS, which is plural. Teruko has only one sibling. 4. The secret fits Xander much better - His secret quote is the defintion of survivors guilt, and his bonus episode heavily implies he has survivors guilt, and it is confirmed his family died in the same bonus episode. Why is Teruko's secret about the killing game?
• The guy at the start of the prologue mentions having to kill Teruko Tawaki after talking about ending the killing game. This implies Teruko is the cause of the killing game, whether on purpose or not. Motive for lying: Teruko doesn't know which secret is hers, but she knows neither of her secrets are the ones left unrevealed. She knows somebody is lying about a secret - but she's come to the conclusion that secrets are irrelevant to the trial and murder, so she's lying about her secret to avoid everyone getting off track once again. David knows her secret, but keeps it hidden in order to use it in the future to turn everyone against Teruko and just generally cause distrust in the group. He plans to reveal it either post trial or in a future daily life. **btw, just a fun afterthought - i think either whit or charles will eventually point out the conversation regarding teruko's unbringing and how it contradicts her secret - and david will use that opportunity to reveal teruko's secret. ANDDDD that's it! feel free to correct/add on any points you'd like. this took AGES but i had so much fun!!! i love you drdt. (ESPECIALLY TERUKO.)
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audrey-carr1 · 4 months ago
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The Heiress and the Lady of the House (part 1)
Author's note: Due to a lack of Hetty x reader fics I decided to fix that. This will more than likely be a series! For future writings, I will take requests as well! Please don't be too upset with how i write because I'm still learning how to write for Hetty. We all know she's a simple yet complex lady. We learn as we go. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
warnings: fem!reader, hettyxreader
It was an accident when I stumbled upon the "Woodstone B&B "hiring ad". As a child visiting my grandmother, I remember riding my bike past the mansion. My grandmother used to take me trick or treating there, and the older woman who lived at the manor always gave the children king-sized candy bars.
After a near-death experience as a teen, I've been able to see ghosts. It began to happen on occasion before it became an everyday thing. I would pretend it wasn’t real and ignore every ghost I encountered. Unless they looked sorely out of place, I couldn't really tell if they weren't living anyway. Ignoring all of them had worked...at least up until I walked into the Woodstone B&B.
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“So is there a history convention in town or something?” I ask Sam teaches me the basics of the B&B website.
“Um no, why do you ask?” Sam questions nervously
“Because of the people in costume? Do you not see the Viking and Revolutionary officer in front of us?”
Sam gasps, “ Oh my gosh You can see them!?”
“She can see us?!” The two men ask.
“Am I not supposed to?” I asks
Sam quickly takes my hand and leads me into the living room. She has me sit and takes a seat in the spot next to me.
“What I’m about to say is going to seem absolutely insane,”
“Okay?” I say unsure of where Sam is taking this.
“This place is haunted, and everyone you see besides me and Jay are dead,” Sam explains
I didn’t mean to burst into laughter, but I did. How could something so absurd be true?
“My word what is all of this laughter about? Can you plebians be joyous outside of my napping hours,” a voice says
I turn to see a red-headed Victorian woman descend the main staircase. We both lock eyes and I feel as if time has stood still. My heart starts to beat a little faster and are my palms sweating? I could be mistaken but is that blush on the other woman's cheeks? "Can ghosts blush?" I ask myself
The redhead quirks and eyebrow before breaking the silence, “You can see me?”
Suddenly unable to speak I nod still looking into blue eyes.
“Hetty, this is (y/n). She is our new employee,”
“And she can see us? She’s not dead? How can you see us?”
Finally finding my words I reply, “I can see you, I’m not dead, and I’m not sure as to why I can see you but I can,”
“Did young girl fall and hit head like Sam?” The Viking asks
“I don’t remember falling recently,” I reply
“Have you always been able to see ghosts,” Sam turns and asks me.
“It’s a long complicated story, I’d rather not get into,” I say.
The redhead purses her lips not enthused by my answer. Soon I hear whispering of what I assume are the other ghosts.
“It’s okay guys, you can come out,” I say not sure of what could happen next.
Entering the room is a flapper, the Viking, the war officer, a hippie, an oversized Boy Scout, and a man without pants. My mind is filled with questions, but mainly I'm wondering why that man doesn’t have on pants. Before I can question his attire, Sam begins introducing everyone.
“There is one more of the main 8, his name is Sassapis, but we call him Sass. He’s out on a walk with Crash, our occasional headless ghost.”
“I see, well it’s nice to meet you all,” I say to them.
“Well go on tell us about your little cute self,” Alberta says “We want to know everything,”
“Well okay I’ve graduated college with a (insert major) degree, and my grandmother recently passed and left me with more money than I know what to do with. Which means I'm technically a heiress. I’m not sure I want to go into my field of work yet, that probably has something to do with my imposter syndrome. I’m an only child, my parents passed away when I was 19. Oh, I love jazz! I actually play piano and know almost all of the Jazz standards, my favorite pizza is pepperoni, and after reading a dystopian novel series I got into archery but that didn’t last long. Let’s see what else,” As I try to recall information I notice the redhead Victorian woman, Hetty looking at you. I begin to blush as I start my next sentence, “I was crowned queen at my senior prom, I love playing vintage Super Mario Brothers in my spare time, My favorite fish to cook is cod, I have a stuffed teddy bear named Daisy, and my favorite musical of all time is Hamilton,”
Isaac, the revolutionary war officer, scoffs and throws his hands up in exasperation while Hetty pats his shoulder while holding back a smirk.
“What about the juicy stuff, like do you have a significant other and have you ever killed someone?” Alberta asks.
“Oh well," I say a little overwhelmed, "I do not have a significant other, I haven’t even had my first kiss yet. To answer your other question, I have not participated in a murder at least not to my knowledge,”
“Sam you have to keep her! She’s perfect for the job,” Flower says
“Except for the Hamilton thing,” Isaac says off the side.
“Plus she’s incredibly hot,” Trevor says. “Not like Tara Reid hot but she’s almost at your level Sam,”
Everyone rolls their eyes at his comment, “I find it best if you ignore his comments. He’s harmless ” The victorian woman who's the name I've learned is, Hetty, whispers in my ear and I try to ignore the sudden butterflies in my stomach. I don’t need to add attracted to a ghost to my resume.
“Well it seems like everyone is on board with you being here even though you were already hired. Why don’t we go back and get some training done,” Sam says heading back to the front desk.
I go to follow her, but I trip over my untied shoelace. Before I can hit the floor, I find myself caught by a pair of soft hands.
Everyone gasps, and I can tell it wasn’t from the fall.
“Did Hetty just catch a living?”
-end-
A/N: Oh I hope y'all don't hate it! This is the first fanfic I've written in about 11 years, so I'm a little rusty. As I said before this is the first part of this many-part series. I may even add this to AO3. Tell me what you think! Until later!
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harry-on-broadway · 2 years ago
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My Valentine
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Word Count: 4.6K || Rating: M
A/N: This is technically a continuation of My Rock Star but you don’t have to have read that to enjoy this one. I’m hoping this has something for everyone in it. Would love to hear your feedback! 
*** Being with Harry came with a laundry list of perks.
Access to an incredible closet, the chance to travel the world whenever you wanted, sex with an unbelievably attractive man.
But there were also some downsides.
Like being his caretaker when he celebrated a little too hard.
As usual, you’d taken your time getting ready, knowing you wouldn’t see him until the after party, and you could already tell he’d be in rare form based on the antics you’d seen on the telecast. You were pretty confident he’d already had a drink or two by the time he walked up to the stage to receive his first award, just by how loose he was. You knew the alcohol hadn’t stopped flowing when he started throwing himself at anyone who was near. And you were surprised he was still standing when Tom had to gently guide him across the stage after the last award of the evening.
When you arrived at the restaurant that was hosting the first after party, you had prepared yourself to be attacked by Harry, but were surprised to come across Gemma instead.
“Do you have eyes on him?” you asked.
“Yeah, he’s over there.” She gestured to a table in the back where Harry had one arm around Jeffrey and was using his other hand to gesture animatedly as he told a story. “I thought he had sobered up a little while he was doing interviews after but that apparently isn’t the case,” she added as Harry wobbled, nearly losing his footing until Jeffrey caught him. “Looks like I got the easy shift tonight. I don’t envy your evening.”
“Oh dear,” you said under your breath. “None for me,” you said, to the waiter who asked for your drink order. One of you had to have a level head.
“There’s my girlfriend,” Harry yelled, causing Jeff to cover his ears.
“Here I am!” You walked over to him and gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“He’s all yours,” Jeff laughed, patting you on the back as Harry clung onto you, whispering in your ear.
“...and then he gave me the award and we hugged again and then – “
“H, baby, why don’t we sit down,” you suggested, unsure of your ability to support his entire body weight for much longer.
“Oh, yeah.” He righted himself and found a seat at the table, walking on unsteady legs with you close behind.
The booth you found yourselves sitting in was cozy, especially as Tyler, Tom, and Jenny, slid in next to you. Harry, not wantign to be left out, all but laid on top of you trying to not only steal a cuddle, but insert himself into the conversation that was happening to your right. You exchanged a wide-eyed glance with Gemma as you gently pushed Harry back to his seat. She laughed over the rim of her glass and rolled her eyes, quite familiar with her brother’s antics.
“Maybe we can sneak away and have another round of celebrations like we did last week?” Harry whispered to you, his breath hot against your ear as the waiter deposited entrees in front of everyone. “Make you scream my name.”
“As enticing as that offer sounds, I’m going to pass,” you said quietly, twirling pasta around your fork.
Harry pouted. “Why not?”
“Eat,” you told Harry, pointing at the plate of fettucini in front of him. “You need to get something in your stomach. Drink some water too,” you prodded, pushing his glass closer to him. “It’ll make you feel better.”
“I feel fiiiiinnnneee,” Harry retorted, stretching out the last word.
“I’ve got to be honest with you, those do not sound like the words of someone who is fine.”
“What does that mean?” He stared at you blankly.
“Babe, just eat.”
Harry finally relented, tucking into his meal, though he kept his arm around you the entire time. As annoying and petulant as he could be when he was drunk, you had to admit his clinginess was endearing, even if meant many promises he couldn’t deliver on.
The pasta sobered him up enough to rally for the next stop on the party tour, and you dutifully followed him into the back seat of the car waiting outside. He was chatty and exuberant, laughing with Tom and Jenny who were sharing the vehicle with you, ice cubes clinking in his glass of neat tequila. At the club, he made his way around the room, altenrating between dancing with some friends and chatting with others.
You kept to the outskirts of the room, introducing yourself to the few unfamiliar faces you spotted while reconnecting with members of Harry’s team you hadn’t seen recently. All the while you kept your eyes on him, ready to intervene when he’d finally had enough. The afterparties were fun, no question about it, but standing there, sipping your own non-alcoholic beverage, you felt a nagging sensation in the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t place, and as Harry found his way back to you, pulling you to the dance floor, you did your best to push it out of your mind.
By 4am, most people had started to head out and you set off in search of Harry, finding him zoned out on a couch, leaning against Jeff, who looked equally out of it.
“H, I think it’s time to head out,” you said, reaching for his hands.
He grinned lazily. “Yeah it is.” He turned to Jeff. “We’re going to –”
“OK, I don’t think we need to talk about that,” you said, heading off any embarrassing comment he was about to make. “The car’s out front babe.” You tried to pull him up, but he was dead weight, far to heavy for you to drag. “I need you to stand up, baby.” After a little more prompting, Harry stood, swaying with each step he took. Seeing how unsteady he was, you felt less confident in your ability to get him home without incident.
“Would you like some help?” A member of Harry’s security team was in front of you, looking from you to the drunken man at your side.
“That would actually be great,” you said, sighing in relief.
“Make sure the car’s out front and I’ll get him there.”
You nodded and ran off, and ten minutes later you and Harry were alone in the backseat, making your way home.
“Could make you feel really good right now,” Harry slurred.
“I’m know you could, but we just need to get you in bed.”
Harry smirked, clearly misunderstanding the meaning of your words. “I seeeeeee,” he giggled.
When you arrived home, you nudged him up the stairs, keeping him upright and facing forward as he slowly planted one foot in front of the other, swaying back and forth as he climbed higher.
“I think I’m ready for bed,” he announced, pulling off his jacket and dropping it in the all. He stared at it, an intense look of concentration on his face as if he couldn’t figure out how it gotten there. “Is that my jacket?”
“It is. We’re getting ready for bed and we’re going to go in here,” you said, steering him towards the bedroom. “Right in here.”
You darted back into the hall to pick up his discarded jacket and when you returned, you found him face down on the bed. “Fuck,” you said under your breath. He couldn’t make this easy for you. You rolled him over, unbucking his pants and pulling them down his leg. You untangled his necklaces, placing them on his bedside table before dragging him up the bed and tucking him under the covers.
After making sure he was asleep, you got yourself ready for bed, changing into your pajamas, before brushing your teeth and washing your face and climbing into bed next to him.
Lying in bed beside him, watching his chest rise and fall slowly, you felt a wave of affection wash over you. He was yours. This silly, drunk, annoying man was yours and you wouldn’t have it any other way. A snore escaped from his mouth and you smiled. You were going to miss him over the next couple of months. You reached up to brush his hair off his forehead, wrapping his curl around your finger as that bittersweet feeling returned. .
You’d gotten lucky through the summer and fall, with your remote job affording you the opportunity to travel with him, but you’d be needed in office when he was in Australia and Asia. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little bit worried about the distance, something you’d discussed with Harry, and the two of you had planned to spend these last couple of days focused on each other. But with the Grammys and now the Brits, time for just you two had been scarce. And tomorrow – or rather today – would be a waste  with Harry sure to have the hangover of the century. But you’d take moments like this as long as they were with him.
You wiggled down under the comforter, momentarily freezing as Harry stirred. Once he’d settled, sleeping on his other side, you slid closer to him, hooking your leg over his, wrapping your arm around his chest, and holding him as close as you could.
***
You woke up much sooner than you would have liked, but your empty stomach was more powerful than your need to sleep. Harry was still out cold next to you, and after watching him sleep for a couple more moments, you slid out from under the covers and padded down to the kitchen.
You put on some coffee for yourself, confident that Harry wouldn’t be up for several hours, and found the ingredients for an omelet in the fridge. When you’d finished eating and cleaning up, you sat at the table, coffee in hand, plotting your next move. You definitely had things to do. You needed to do laundry and start packing for your flight in a couple of days, and you should probably figure out what you all were going to do for dinner, but you knew deep down that the only thing you wanted to do right now was be with Harry – even if he was still passed out, completely unaware of your presence. So you poured yourself a second cup of coffee, grabbed your laptop and a book, and made your way back upstairs.
You gingerly peeled back the covers on your side of the bed, careful not to disturb him, and got comfortable. You popped your AirPods in and waited for them to connect before pressing play on an episode of Real Housewives on your laptop.
After 4 episodes and 50 pages in your book, you heard an extremely loud snore come from Harry, a snore so loud that he jolted himself awake. He squinted up at you, eyes adjusting to the dim light of the room.
“Morning, sunshine,” you said, moving your laptop off of your legs.
“Stop shaking the bed,” he mumbled.
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Someone’s in a good mood this afternoon,” you shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“It’s not my fault my head is killing me.” Harry rolled onto his back, flinching as he moved the bed again. “Fuck.”
“Here, take these.” You handed him a couple of Tylenol and a bottle of water watching as he slowly sat up and took the pills, nearly downing the entire bottle of water in one gulp. “Do you want some more?”
“No.” He stared down at the comforter, still adjusting to the afternoon light drifting in from the curtains. “What time is it?”
You looked at your phone. “A little after three.”
“Shit. What time did we leave last night?”
“A little after four.”
“Fuck.”
“I know. So much for just one drink.” He attempted to roll his eyes, but thought twice, cringing at the movement. “You okay?” you asked. As much as you’d love to continue teasing him you could tell he was hurting.
“Yeah, I just need to take it slow.”
“You should probably eat something. What do you want?”
“No clue.”
You sighed, knowing that hungover Harry was going to be worse than drunk Harry. “Why don’t you think about it and I’ll get you some more water.”
He grunted affirmatively and you eased off the bed. In the kitchen, you set about filling up his water bottle and making him some tea. You grabbed a banana as well, before scooping up the beverages, balancing them precariously as you made your way back upstairs.
The lights had been turned on in your absence, albeit on the dimmest setting, and he’d turned on the TV as well, some sports game playing at a low volume. Harry was leaning against the headboard, wrapped in a hoodie. He perked up when he saw you in the doorway.
“Feeling better?” you asked, placing the beverages and fruit on his nightstand.
He nodded. “A little.”
“That’s good.” You kissed his hair. He still smelled like the club from last night. “Maybe you should rinse off later?”
He laughed lightly. “Trying to tell me something.”
“It might make you feel better.”
“No, you just think I stink,” he said, taking a bite of the banana.
You let out an exasperated sigh. “I was thinking I could fix us some pasta in a little bit. If you’re feeling up to it.”
“Pasta sounds good.” You pressed another kiss to his head and climbed into bed next to him.  He threw his arm around your shoulders, a practiced and comfortable gesture, and you curled up against his side. “How bad was I last night?” he asked.
“How much do you remember?”
“Not a lot after the restaurant.”
“Well, you had a couple of drinks…”
“Feels like more than a couple…” he groaned
“I rounded down. You did some dancing, introduced yourself to everyone – and I mean everyone – in the room, gave a lot of hugs…”
“Did I kiss anyone else?”
“You tried to plant a couple on Jeff.”
“Just showing him how much I love him.”
“You also extended the romantic offer of a quickie in the bathroom to me,” you said dryly. “Several times.”  
“Hey! The last time I won something we fucked in the–”
“I remember, but I highly doubt you would have been able to manage that last night Mr. Only-The-One drink.”
Harry pinched your side and you squirmed in his arms. “You can’t judge me for wanting to spend time with my favorite person,” he said.
You threw your arm over his stomach and hugged him tight, closing your eyes, trying to remember everything about this moment. The feel of his hoodie against your fingers, the sound of his heartbeat, the weight of his arm on your shoulders. You wished there was some way to preserve this.
“Have you eaten today?” he asked, interrupting your reverie.
“I had breakfast and a snack.”
“Would you want to do the pasta soon? I can rinse off and meet you in the kitchen.”
“Yeah.”
Harry stretched before climbing out of bed and shedding his briefs and hoodie, making a half-hearted attempt to toss them into the hamper. When you heard the water turn on, you headed to the kitchen for the third time that day, pulling pasta, tomatoes, spices, and cheese from various cabinets, waiting for Harry to come down.
You’d started boiling the water when you felt him come up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, swaying back and forth. “Smells good,” he said against your hair.
“It’s just pasta,” you said, laughing. “I haven’t even started the good stuff yet.”
“Wasn’t talking about the food. I was talking about you.” He inhaled again. “Need to bottle this up so I can take you with me.” You bit your lip, willing yourself to hold back your emotions and not let them ruin this moment. “Alright.” Harry released you from his grasp. “What can I help with?”
“I was thinking of doing a pink sauce so if you want to start with that.”
“On it.” Harry rolled up his sleeves and got to work chopping onions and grating fresh parmesan, and the kitchen was filled with a savory aroma as he threw them into the pot. With the sauce simmering, Harry opened a bottle of wine, pouring both of you a glass. You raised an eyebrow at the large portion given his current state. “What?” he asked. “Hair of the dog, right?”
When dinner was ready, you all sat at the table, properly recapping the events of the previous night. You laughed at Harry’s recollection of the ceremony which was hazy at best, but seeing the award show through his lens was somehow even better than being there. You cleaned up together and migrated upstairs soon after, brushing teeth and collapsing into bed under the pretense of getting caught up on Love Island. Harry sidled up behind you, his body conforming to yours as you pressed play, and it was just ten minutes later when you heard his snores in your ear. You smiled, reaching for the remote, careful not to disturb him, turning off the TV shortly before sleep overtook you as well.
***
You had a weird feeling in your stomach when you woke up on the morning of the 14th, something you attributed to the fact that you’d be leaving Harry in less than 24 hours. Trying to stave off the anxiety that was quickly brewing, you decided a walk through the city and running errands was the cure. So, with Harry still in bed, you set out on your adventure.
You arrived back at the house later in the afternoon, letting yourself in and heading straight for your bedroom. If you packed everything up now, that would leave the rest of the evening free to spend with Harry without the looming knowledge of more chores on your to-do list.
When you got to the bedroom, you stopped short, unsure of what you were walking into. Candles were placed on every surface within sight, giving the room a romantic glow. Fresh flowers – roses from the looks of them – were placed around the room, which smelled of…vanilla?
“Welcome home,” Harry said. “And Happy Valentine’s Day.”
“I thought we said no gifts!” was the first thing you could think to blurt out.
“It’s not a gift. It’s…ambiance,” Harry said. He studied your face, trying to get a read on what you were feeling. “Do you not like it?” he asked, flustered.
“No, I love it. I just feel bad that I didn’t do anything for you.”
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.” He stepped forward and grabbed your hands, giving them a squeeze. “The last 14 months have been about me. Touring, working on the album, premieres, award shows. And you’ve been beside me every step of the way. Supporting me, loving me. And I did this because, for once, I wanted to do something for you.”
You were speechless. No words could describe what this gesture meant to you. You supported Harry because you loved him, not because you needed grand declarations of love from him. But his insistence on treating you with an equal amount of respect and adoration only reiterated that you’d made the right decision when you first agreed to date him.
“Kiss me,” you managed to get out and Harry happily obliged, scooping you into his arms and kissing you squarely on your lips. His tongue pressed against the seam of your lips and quickly found yours. You panted heavily against his mouth, overwhelmed by the onslaught. You felt the kiss throughout your entire body from your lips to the tips of your toes. It was a like a current was running through you, a current that grew stronger as Harry’s arms moved down your body, grabbing your ass and pressing you against his stiff cock. You moaned at the sensation, all to aware of how empty you felt and how badly you wanted him.
“Can we?” you glanced at the bed and Harry nodded. You pushed him backwards until his legs hit the frame and he laid back, taking you with him. He kept kissing you as you settled on top of his thigh, rolling your hips desperately searching for the friction you needed. You felt Harry fumbling with the hem of your shirt and lifted your arms to aid him in pulling it off of you. Your bra was next, then Harry’s shirt, then you were skin to skin.
“You feel so soft,” Harry said, dazedly as he traced your spine. He kissed his way down your collarbone to your sternum before peppering kisses across your cleavage until his lips locked around your nipple. You were still grinding on his thigh and the combination of sensations was almost too much. Harry pulled his lips away with a satisfying pop, and when you felt his teeth scaping against the soft underside of your breast, sucking a kiss that you knew would leave a mark, you cried out as your orgasm overtook you.
You rested your head on his shoulder, hovering over his thigh as you tried to recover. Harry soothed you, stroking your back and hair, and when your breathing returned to normal, you locked eyes with him. “I need you,” you whispered.
Harry nodded, almost as if in a trance, and started to wiggle around underneath of you, pulling down his briefs and shorts and kicking them to the ground as you pulled off your own bottoms. Completely naked, with nothing between you, Harry eased back on the bed, resting his hands on your hips as you lined yourself up with him. Without hesitation, you sank down on his cock. Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. Your body fit with his in a way you’d never before experienced. It was like he was made for you. You could tell he was already close to spilling over based on the way his jaw was set, and when you gave an experimental bounce to feel how intensely he stretched you, he clenched his jaw even harder.
“I’m ready,” you whispered, and Harry moved his hips, rocking up into you. You threw your head back in satisfaction as he grazed that spot deep inside of you. His grip on your hips tightened, his nails marking you further as you matched his rhythm. After a few thrusts he stopped, hands squeezing you as a signal for you to do the same. Confused, you looked down at him.  
“It’s okay,” he murmumed. “Just wanted to be a little closer. He leaned forward so he was sitting upright, embracing you in his lap, all while driving his cock deeper inside of you.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said as he continued to rock into you. “So beautiful, doing so good for me. So good to me all the time. Just want to make you feel good.” He was babbling, so painfully close to his own release but still putting your pleasure before his.
“It fee-feels incredible,” you managed to get out. You were almost there for the second time that night. On this next thrust, you took his face in your hands, kissing him as your orgasm washed over you. Seconds later, you felt him hot and wet inside you. Your fingers were tangled in the damp curls at the base of his neck, and you pulled his head back to look at you.
“Happy Valentine’s, baby,” he said. “I can’t believe I’m yours.”
***
The morning after was the most bittersweet you’d ever experienced. After spending the night wrapped around him, you didn’t want to let him go, but you reluctantly let him get ready for his flight.
“You should probably get ready too,” he said, eyes unwilling to meet yours, as if acknowledging you would accelerate your goodbye.
You pulled on leggings and a hoodie and sat on the edge of the bed. Watching him toss last minute items into his suitcase before zipping it up. “I just don’t want you to go,” you said, voice breaking. You covered your eyes, trying to hide your tears.
He was by your side in an instant. “I don’t want to leave either but it’s going to be over so soon. You’re going to kick ass on this project and I’ll play a couple of shows and things will be back to normal before we know it. And you’ll be coming with me this summer. It’s only a few weeks.” He squeezed your hand definitively. “We’ve got this.”
“I know.” You sniffled. “I just miss you already.”
“And I miss you too.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You know, I was going to do this later but…” He stood up and walked to his night stand, rifling through the drawer. He pulled out a small, wrapped, box and tossed it to you. You looked at him curiously.
“What’s this?” you asked, shaking the box.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you open it and see?”
You peeled back the corner of the paper, freeing the box. You turned it upright and opened it. Inside was a delicate sliver necklace with a chain so thin you’d have to squint to see it. It was a perfect match to the one Harry had started sporting over the holidays. Tears immediately filled your eyes.
“Just to make sure you don’t forget me.”
“I thought is was only a few weeks,” you chuckled.
“Can’t take any chances.” He sat beside you again, the mattress dipping under his weight. “But I’m serious. I know how hard being with me can be sometimes and I mean it when I say I’ll never take you for granted. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” you said. “And I’m already counting down the days until I can see you again.”
***
talk to me! 
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parasolyaa · 6 months ago
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Buckle up, we're overanalysing Mischa's name
Firstly, it just cannot be his legal name on the documents. Mischa is always short for Mykhailo (equivalent to English Michael). Secondly, Bachinski is actually the Russian spelling of his surname, and, well, there was little chance of the writers using the correct form back in 2008. Ukrainian spelling is Bachynskyi! Thirdly, in Ukrainan and some other Slavic languages every person is supposed to have their father's name attached to their name. For example, if your father is Taras, and you are Andriy, than you would be Andriy Tarasovych. We do not know Mischa's dad's name, so for the sake of this exploration I'm just gonna go with Mykola (I just like this name and it is popular enough). That turns Mischa Bachinski into Mykhailo Bachynskyi Mykolayovych (Михайло Бачинський Миколайович)
+ I'm not sure, but Misha probably is a more accurate transcription of Міша than Mischa (update: i am now sure. Misha is objectively correct)
Now onto the etymology (sorta). The name Michael was gender-neutral with Hebrew origin (vaguely meaning "who is like God" or "gift from God", the second version is less accurate but I like it cause it plays well into my headcanon of Mischa being a miracle baby since it was unlikely for his mother to have a normal pregnancy after the radiation exposure). Odesa is a city with a lot of Jewish population so yeah. And also Michael is the name of an archangel in the Bible.
But as for Mykhailo specifically, a random Ukrainian article says:
Little Misha is an inquisitive and good-natured boy. He is very independent and likes to have his own responsibilities around the house. If Misha gets into good company, then there is no need to worry about him. Mykhailo is unsure of himself, so his parents need to encourage him more often. The owner of such a name is easily offended, but not spiteful. He is in poor health. Mykhailo's main shortcomings are that he gives up easily and never admits he is wrong. In love, he is very persistent and patient. Mykhailo can pursue his beloved for years. He does not know how to make compliments and give gifts. He proves his love not by word, but by deed. Tends to slight obesity and often has poor eyesight. The name suits Sagittarius, Capricorns, Aquarius. Not suitable for Pisces.
I only picked out the at least somehow interesting stuff, cause the article is long and you can read it yourself with the help of Google translator if you'd like. Also it has a section of female names the owner of the name is likely to get along well with, and it has no mention of Natalia (Talia), but Tamara was first on the list🥹
In Russian language Mischa is a way to say bear. In Ukrainian language Myscha is a way to say mouse. This is lowkey symbolic and I should use it in a fanfic at some point. Imagine Mischa telling everyone his name means bear and technically not lying, but in his mother tongue it actually is a tiny little animal. One of my headcanons is that his mother called him myshko (the way to say "little mouse" when reffering to someone directly. The subjective form is myshka, an even more affectionate/сute version is myshenya, myshenyatko)
Literally every noun in Ukrainian language has A TON of affectionate/сute versions, here are just some of such forms for Mischa: Mykhaylyk, Mykhaylychok, Mykhaylonko, Mykhaylochko, Mykhalyk, Mykhas, Mykhasyk, Mykhasko, Mykhasyo, Myshko, Mischenka. This isn't even a half, but some are quite impossible to translate. My fav versions are Mykhaylyk, Mykhasyk and Mykhalyk, they are also the most popular but basically all of them can be used if you wanna call him affectionately hehe
thank you for your attention folks🐭
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