#i was like :000 WHAT!!! the entire time

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Daily fish fact #6 444 205

Fish!

The fish like to have a little drink :) Sadly as they drink the water around them they also drink their own pee, and that is the curse that they will have to live with for the rest of their life

#fish #fishfact #fish facts #fishblr #biology #zoology

( 2 notes )

🪼 clovergonads follow

Tasseled wobbegong women >>>>>>>>>>>

🐸 i-eat-skin follow

bitch those are goosefish

( 27,196 notes )

🐚 seashell-on-the-seashore follow

Say what you want about fishblr updates, but I think this format for reblubs is a wonderful improvement over the previous one. One of the only times staff did good.

🐚 seashell-on-the-seashore

@featherstar53 If reblub chains got too long, new reblubs would start appearing as darker and darker until you couldnt see the text anymore. It mimicked how light disappears as you go deeper in the ocean but the sunken code this webbedsite runs on never set a cap for how dark it gets, so eventually you would have to copy ad paste the text on the reblubs onto somewhere to read them.

🐍 swamplamprey follow

It sounds fake but it's true! You can still find some older fishblr post screenshots with this effect:

This even went for full abyssal mode users! In their case, the text would slowly turn from white to dark blue, effectively making it impossible to read against the black background.

🦞 fastest-claw-in-the-west follow

I think it would be super funny if they brought this back but for individual posts. Like the reblubs stay the same colour but the posts themselves get gradually and gradually darker until you can't see them anymore lol. It would be disastrous but also funny and it might finally stop some of you frys from being so addicted to this webbedsite

#im all for a bit of chaos lol #treasure trove: talking tag

( 730 notes )

🌿 invertlike-behaviour follow

Okay for the record. My eyes are Red because I'm a COMMON ROACH! RUTILUS RUTILUS! It's not because I smoke seaweed!

🌿 invertlike-behaviour

Okay Yes I smoke seaweed all day. But the specific reason my eyes are red is Not That

( 104 notes )

🦈 spiritually-placoderm follow

🫧 surgeonsturgeon follow

OP you forgot brackish water and the option for inhabiting both

🦈 spiritually-placoderm

Shut your inferior ass mouth up

🫧 surgeonsturgeon

#(i couldnt find the actual gif i wanted to use but this weird tiger shark will have to do) #(not sure why his fins look like that)

( 1,020 notes )

☀️ slenderfish follow

"ocean sunfish have over 40 parasite species" factoid actualy just statistical error. average ocean sunfish is infected with only one or two parasites. Parasites Georg, the mola who suffers from every ailment known to fish and has over 1 000 000 000 parasite species infesting his flesh and organs, is an outlier adn should not have been counted

( 193,239 notes)

🪷 trout-about-you follow

Selfieeeee :3 (ignore the two sea lampreys attached to my flesh)

🪲 toebiter follow

how did you take the picture you aren't holding your phone

🪷 trout-about-you

The sea lamprey on the left took it for me

( 58 notes )

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

FISH USED TO MIGRATE THOUSANDS OF MILES TO BREED. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!!!!

IN MY DAY PUSSFISH LIKE THIS WOULD GET EATEN ALIVE BY REAL RIVER MONSTERS FOR BREAKFAST.

🐟 darting-action follow

these are Siamese fighting fish bruh.... They don't have migration as part of their life cycle lmao

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

OF COURSE THE YOUTH CAN'T PUNCTUATE THEIR SENTENCES PROPERLY. I SHOULDN'T EXPECT SO MUCH FROM THE SOFT FRY THEY ARE. ALWAYS GETTING RILED UP!

🔲 skip-hopper-deactivated

Ignore this guy, @darting-action. He's well known for saying offensive nonsense like this, I think he's bait and trying to get someone to bite.

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

YOU MUST BE ONE OF THOSE INBRED DOMESTIC SCUM OR HATCHED YESTERDAY SINCE YOU ENTIRELY LACK THICK SCALES. I SPEAK THE TRUTH AND ONLY THE TRUTH. IF YOU GET TRIGGERED THEN THAT'S NATURAL SELECTION, SON. YOU SHOULD FIGHT ME IN REAL LIFE.

🔲 walrus-tits-in-my-mouth-deactivated

You really dont know a thing about natural selection, do you? Bettas have flashy fins because they have to seem threatening to possible competitors. They don't migrate so they aren't built for that. They're built for living in ponds and marshes, low oxygen environments, and by cod, they are built for fighting territorial battles! You shouldn't underestimate a fish literally called fighting fish. They're very tough and hardy fish and can even send larger fish fleeing!

🔲 salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated

SIAMESE FLAILING PUSSFISH HAVE LADY FINS BECAUSE THEY'RE WEAK AND SOFT AND HAD HUMANS DECIDE WHO THEY BREED WITH FOR THEM. THEIR QUOTE UNQUOTE "FIGHTING PROWESS" SURE DIDN'T SAVE THEM FROM BEING PRISSY LITTLE PRINCESS FISHIES FOR LITTLE KIDS DID IT? THE INDUBIDABLE FACT IS THAT THEY'RE MUSKIE FOOD.

🔲 iknowthecrabbypattysecretformula-deactivated

Wait a minute... I recongize that picture on the right! That's from @betta-than-this 's OnlyFins! How did you get that picutre hmmm? Salmonidae? How on Ocean did you gain access huh?

🐠 betta-than-this follow

"Indubidable" is a pretty specific word to use. This you @salmonidae-supremacy-deactivated?

🔲 iknowthecrabbypattysecretformula-deactivated

LMAOOOOOO GOTTEMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

🔲 aquarium-life-deactivated

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

🐟 darting-action

woag i never saw this entire chain before until it hit me on my dashboard. Why does this have so many notes

Thanks fishblr user walrus tits in my mouth for biology info i didn't know

🫖 burgle-the-turts follow

Woah woah woah we're just gonna ignore this guy using p*ssfish as an insult!!???? THE CATFISH SLUR????????? No one is going to bring this up!!!!!???????

🔲 tilapia11128-deactivated

does anyone in this thread smoke seaweed

🌊 herringageposts follow

date of origin: 28th of august, 2017

( 392,229 notes )

🟧 sponsored

Suffering all alone, handsome?

No need to anymore.

👄 pollywannacracker follow

Reblub with your favorite snack in the tags! I’ll go first: coral polyps! :}

🚬 shark-noir follow

@ninjalantern-999

#as for me #my fave is definitely my lower set of teeth when they shed #crumchy :D

( 295 notes )

🩸 must-lunge follow

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA STUPID HUMAN DROPPED ITS ELECTRONIC CAMERA IN THE LAKE!!!!!!!! NEVER GETTING THAT BACK BUB!!!!!! I'M TELLING ALL MY ISOPOD AND MUSSEL FRIENDS AND THEY'RE GONNA LIVE INSIDE IT!!!!!

🧑 official-human-posts follow

ofishal human post

#ofishal human post #this post contains humans

( 891 notes )

🦦 hellofromtheotterslide follow

Wait, how come this site is called fishblr and not something like oceanblr or aquablr? Wouldn't that be more inclusive?

👑 goldielocks follow

I believe the name "fishblr" pays homage to the meaning of the word where just about everything in the water was considered a fish. It's why we have words like "shellfish", "whalefish", "jellyfish", "starfish".

Personally aquablr would work really well, too. There's a sizeable amphibious userbase on here.

🦐 worldwideshrimp follow

You forgot whale shark! Those arent fish either but are called fish

👑 goldielocks

....Whale sharks are fish. They are sharks. It's in the name.

🦎 eye-of-newt follow

But I thought it was a whale named after sharks? WHALE shark! Why else would they put whale up first?

👑 goldielocks

A whale named after a shark would be called a shark whale. You can take one look at a whale shark and see that, with its gills and fish tail, it is a shark.

⚪️ number1-seacucumber-ass-enjoyer-77 follow

Wait, then what about baby whales? Are those whales named after babies?

👑 goldielocks

If you're talking about the actual whale babies, then yeah. If you mean the mormyrids, small aquatic animals that can sense electricity, then no, those are fish. Sometimes names are inaccurate to what the animal really is.

🌌 themanta1234 follow

If you think about it, fishblr is also inclusive to aquatic tetrapods since they are lobe-fins, and therefore fish :D It's a term that can include everyone on here, the perfect catchall!

🦑 abyssal-gigantism follow

Ewwww fuck that definition. If mammals hear about them being fish on some sort of """"technicality"""" then this webbedsite is gonna get flooded with those self-important idiots! "OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOOOO LoOk At MeEeEeEeEEE i'M a MaMmAL!!11!!! I TAKE CARE of mah BAAABIEEEES!1111 I'm SUCH a good MAMAAA!!! All those OTHER STUPID HEARTLESS ANIMALS could NEVER do as I DO!!! I LOVE sweating into my BAABIEEEES' MOUTH1!1!1!111!!! I'm FLUFFY and AWSUM and ERRYBODDY LUUUVSSSSS MEE!!!!!!!!!!111!!!!!!! You should all LUV me TOO!!!!"

Is THAT how you want every fishblr post to look!!!!??????

🦛 drippohippo follow

😨

🪄 magicmanatee45 follow

DD:

🎼 humpbacked-musician-offishal follow

:'''((((

🐋 blainvilles-bitch follow

🕶️ egg-laying-mammal-of-action follow

:///////////

🐢 greenXD follow

i think jellyfish shouldn't be classified as fish because they're clearly living spaghetti

🌜 foolish-idol follow

Great fucking post everyone. Hit the air bubblers

( 60,376 notes )

🟩 ultrahyva-heihoi follow

Guys what the fuck kind of sponsors does fishblr have I just saw an ad for having parasites housed in me who are they advertising to 😭💀💀

#i swear the quality of this site keeps going down and down #if you see ads for parasites then report the shit out of em #fuck em my friend got early onset cataracts due to parasites

( 4 notes )

😃 doweopenandcloseourmouthtoday follow

Yes! :) :O :) :O :) :O :) :O

[novaursa]

What about a Jace x sister

Where he fell in love with her and in the same time he is not ok with it. He might be the only Targaryen related who thinks that’s not okay to loved their related. But no matter how he can stopped loving her, she might have a look more “Targaryen” with white hair with some black in it (narcissia Malfoy style?)

He always do some weird shit to be closed to her without drow to much attention, And when they finally get really closed their mother call all the bastard to become dragon rider. And Ulf find them in the Pit and try to get something from them in exchange of his silence.

Jace wake up and choose violence 🫣 and just say no and fuxk her in front of him and say that if he say anything he make sure his dragon will eat him

Sins of the Blood

- Summary: Jacaerys always loved his sister, more than he should. It was wrong, he knew it, but the dragon in him claimed you as his long ago.

- Paring: sister!reader/Jacaerys Velaryon

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top. Requests are closed!

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 4 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

- A/N: I've bonded the reader with Grey Ghost for the plot.

The sea breeze dances through the open halls of Dragonstone, carrying with it the scent of salt and the distant roar of the waves. You stand with Baela and Rhaena on the sun-warmed terrace overlooking the cliffs, the three of you bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. Your laughter rings out, clear and melodic, mingling with the cries of the gulls that circle above.

Jacaerys Velaryon watches from a distance, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions. He knows he should not be here, should not be watching you so closely, but he cannot help himself. You, his sister, the only daughter of Rhaenyra, have been a constant presence in his life, a source of both comfort and confusion. His eyes trace the silver streaks in your hair, a reminder of your Targaryen blood, mingling with the deep brown inherited from your true father, though only you, he, and his mother know the truth.

He remembers when you were children, how you would chase each other through the halls of the Red Keep, your laughter infectious, your bond inseparable. He had always been protective of you, even when you didn’t need it. You were fierce, a dragon through and through, and yet, as you stand now with Baela and Rhaena, there is a softness to you, a grace that makes his breath catch in his throat.

"Do you remember the first time we flew together?" Baela’s voice pulls him from his thoughts. She grins at you, her violet eyes bright with the memory.

"Of course," you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. "I thought Jace would never let me ride my own dragon, he was so worried."

Jace feels a pang at your words, both pride and regret mingling in his chest. He had always been overly cautious with you, more so than with Luke or Joffrey. Perhaps he had always known, even then, that his feelings for you were not entirely brotherly.

Rhaena giggles, leaning in closer to you. "He’s always been that way, hasn’t he? Always the protector, always looking after you."

You shrug, though the warmth in your eyes betrays your affection. "He cares. That’s just how he is."

Jace clenches his fists at his sides, torn between the pride that swells in him at your words and the guilt that gnaws at him for the thoughts he cannot seem to banish. He knows it is wrong—this desire that burns in him like dragonfire—but it is also undeniably a part of him, a flame that refuses to be extinguished.

Take what is yours. The words echo in his mind, a voice that is both his own and something darker, something ancient. The blood of the dragon runs hot in his veins, urging him to act, to claim what he believes is his by right. You are his sister, yes, but you are also so much more. You are the embodiment of everything he has ever wanted, ever desired.

You turn then, as if sensing his gaze, and your eyes meet his. For a moment, the world seems to stop. The laughter of Baela and Rhaena fades into the background, the sound of the waves dulls, and all he can hear is the pounding of his own heart.

"Jace," you call out, your voice breaking the spell. "Come join us!"

There is no hesitation in your invitation, no hint that you are aware of the storm raging inside him. You are just his sister, inviting him to share in the simple joy of the evening, oblivious to the battle he fights within.

He forces a smile, masking the turmoil beneath, and steps forward. "I was just enjoying the view," he says, his voice betraying nothing.

Rhaena giggles again, nudging Baela. "See, I told you he’s always watching over her."

Baela laughs, a sound like the tinkling of bells. "It’s because he’s a good brother."

The words cut deeper than they should, a cruel reminder of the line he cannot cross. He wants to be a good brother, he truly does. But the blood of the dragon does not care for such boundaries. The blood of the dragon demands more.

As he approaches, you smile up at him, that same smile that has always had the power to calm him, to soothe the fire within. But today, it only stokes the flames higher.

"Are you alright?" you ask softly, your eyes searching his face for something he cannot give.

He nods, the lie slipping easily from his lips. "Of course. Just… thinking."

You raise an eyebrow, a knowing look passing over your face. "You think too much, Jace. You always have."

He laughs, though it is a strained sound. "Someone has to, with you lot always running headlong into trouble."

Baela snorts. "As if you don’t love it."

He shrugs, unable to deny it. "Perhaps."

You laugh then, a sound so pure and unburdened that it twists something deep in his chest. How can you be so carefree, so unaware of the darkness that haunts him?

The conversation drifts to other things—plans for the next dragonride, the latest antics of your younger brothers—but Jace finds it hard to focus. His eyes keep returning to you, to the way the setting sun catches in your hair, to the way your eyes sparkle when you laugh. Every moment is a battle, every word a reminder of what he can never have.

Take what is yours. The voice whispers again, insistent, relentless.

He pushes it down, burying it beneath layers of duty, of honor, of love for his family. But it is there, always there, a part of him that he can never truly silence.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting the world in shades of orange and gold, you turn to him once more, your expression soft, almost tender.

"Thank you, Jace," you say quietly.

He frowns, unsure of what you mean. "For what?"

You smile, and it is a smile that breaks him, because it is so full of warmth, of trust, of love. "For always being there. For always watching over me."

He swallows hard, forcing down the lump in his throat. "Always," he promises, and it is both a vow and a curse.

You reach out, your hand brushing against his arm, and the simple touch sends a shock through him, setting his nerves alight. For a moment, he forgets himself, forgets everything but you.

But then Baela speaks up, her voice pulling him back to reality. "We should head inside. It’s getting late."

You nod, but your eyes linger on his for a moment longer, as if searching for something, something you cannot name.

Jace watches as you turn away, following Baela and Rhaena back into the castle, your laughter fading into the evening air. He stays behind, his heart a tumult of emotion, his mind a battlefield.

He knows what he feels is wrong. He knows that he should push these thoughts away, should bury them deep where they can never see the light of day. But he also knows that the blood of the dragon is not so easily denied.

As the stars begin to twinkle in the darkening sky, Jace makes a silent vow to himself. He will protect you, he will care for you, as a brother should. But he will also fight this desire, this hunger that threatens to consume him. He will not let it destroy him, or you.

But deep down, he knows that it will be difficult.

And as he watches the last light of day fade into night, he wonders if it ever truly will be.

Months have passed since that evening on the terrace, and yet the fire within Jacaerys Velaryon has not dimmed. If anything, it has only grown stronger, a persistent heat that simmers beneath the surface, threatening to consume him at every turn. He has thrown himself into his duties, into training and studies, hoping that the rigor will burn away these unwanted desires. But nothing works. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot escape the pull you have on him.

Today, he finds himself wandering through the halls of Dragonstone, his mind restless, his heart unsettled. The castle is quiet, the stillness only amplifying his thoughts. His feet carry him to the library, a place he knows you often retreat to when you seek solace or simply a moment of peace. He tells himself it is a coincidence, that he has come here to study, to distract himself with books and knowledge. But deep down, he knows the truth.

As he enters the library, the scent of aged parchment and ink greets him, a familiar comfort. He pauses in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room until they find you, seated near the window, the light of the midday sun casting a soft glow around you. You are engrossed in a book, your silver-streaked hair falling over your face, your expression serene. The sight of you, so peaceful and unguarded, sends a wave of warmth through him, and before he can stop himself, he is walking towards you.

You look up as he approaches, a smile tugging at your lips. "Jace," you greet him, your voice soft and welcoming. "What brings you here?"

He hesitates, his mind racing for an excuse. "I thought I might find you here," he admits, the words tumbling out before he can catch them. "I wanted to see if you needed any help with your studies."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful glint in your eyes. "Since when do you offer to help with my studies?"

He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. "I just thought... we haven't spent much time together lately. I miss it."

Your expression softens at his words, and you close the book in your hands, setting it aside. "I’ve missed it too," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

He can feel the tension between you, a charged energy that crackles in the air. The pull is stronger now, a magnetic force that draws him closer, and before he knows it, he is sitting beside you, his body instinctively leaning towards yours.

"What are you reading?" he asks, his voice rougher than he intended.

You glance at the book, then back at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "A history of Old Valyria. I’ve always been fascinated by our ancestors, by the dragons and the blood magic they wielded."

"Of course," he murmurs, though he hardly registers the words. He is too focused on the way your hand rests so close to his, the way your eyes seem to shimmer in the light. "Our blood is strong, isn’t it? The blood of the dragon."

You nod, your gaze holding his. "It is. It’s what makes us who we are."

The words resonate deep within him, a reminder of the truth he has tried so hard to ignore. The blood of the dragon is what binds you together, but it is also what drives him to the brink of madness. The fire that burns in his veins is not just a curse, but a part of him, a part of you. And he is no longer sure if he can continue to fight it.

"I wanted to ask you something," you say suddenly, breaking the silence that has settled between you.

He blinks, trying to focus. "What is it?"

You hesitate for a moment, as if gathering your thoughts. "I was wondering if you could help me with my dragon training. Grey Ghost is so much more... spirited than he used to be, and I thought maybe you could help me understand him better."

Jace swallows hard, the thought of spending more time with you, alone and away from prying eyes, sending a thrill through him. But it is also dangerous, more dangerous than anything he has faced before. Still, he finds himself nodding. "Of course. I’d be glad to help."

You smile, a smile that warms him from the inside out, and he knows he is lost. He cannot deny you, cannot deny himself any longer. The pull is too strong, the fire too fierce. And as you rise to your feet, gesturing for him to follow, he feels that pull tighten, like a chain around his heart, binding him to you.

The two of you walk side by side through the corridors of Dragonstone, the silence between you comfortable, yet charged with an unspoken tension. Your presence is a balm to him, calming and yet igniting something deep within, something he can no longer ignore. Every brush of your arm against his, every glance in his direction, fans the flames higher, until he feels as though he might burst from the sheer force of it.

When you reach the courtyard where the dragons are kept, you turn to him, your eyes bright with excitement. "Let’s start with the basics," you say, your voice full of eagerness. "You’ve always been better at this than I am."

Jace shakes his head, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. "It’s not about being better," he says, trying to keep his voice steady. "It’s about understanding them, forming a bond with them."

You nod, your attention fully on him now, and he feels a surge of pride at the trust you place in him. "I know," you say softly. "And I trust you to help me."

The words strike him like a blow, the weight of your trust almost too much to bear. He wants to be worthy of it, to be the brother you believe him to be. But he also wants more, so much more, and it terrifies him.

As you step closer to him, your arm brushing against his, he feels that pull again, stronger than ever. He knows he should move away, put some distance between you, but he cannot bring himself to do it. Instead, he finds himself leaning in, his body drawn to yours like a moth to flame.

"You know," you say, your voice barely above a whisper, "I’ve always felt safest when I’m with you."

The confession catches him off guard, and he looks down at you, his heart pounding in his chest. "Why?"

You smile up at him, a gentle, almost shy smile. "Because you’ve always been there for me, Jace. No matter what."

His breath catches in his throat, the intensity of the moment almost too much to bear. The pull between you is undeniable now, a force of nature that neither of you can resist. And as you stand there, so close that he can feel the warmth of your breath on his skin, he knows that he is about to cross a line that he can never return from.

But before he can act, before he can make the decision that will change everything, you reach out and take his hand in yours, your fingers curling around his. The simple touch sends a jolt of electricity through him, and he is lost, completely and utterly lost.

"Jace," you whisper, your voice trembling with something unspoken.

He looks down at you, his heart in his throat, and he knows that this is it. This is the moment he has been dreading, the moment he has been craving. The pull between you is too strong, the fire too fierce, and he knows that there is no going back.

But then, as if sensing the turmoil within him, you give his hand a gentle squeeze, your eyes full of warmth and understanding. "Thank you," you say, your voice soft and sincere. "For always being there."

And just like that, the moment passes. The tension between you eases, and you step back, releasing his hand. The pull is still there, still strong, but it is no longer overwhelming. For now, it is enough to simply be with you, to feel your presence beside him, to know that you trust him.

As you turn your attention back to the dragons, Jace takes a deep breath, steadying himself. The battle within him is far from over, but for now, he has won a small victory. He has resisted the pull, resisted the fire. But he knows it is only a matter of time before the dragon within him demands more.

And when that time comes, he is not sure if he will be able to resist.

The winds howl around the jagged peaks of Dragonmont, the volcanic heart of Dragonstone. The sky above is dark, thick clouds swirling in ominous patterns, but here, beneath the shelter of the mountain, you and Jacaerys find solace in the company of your dragons. Vermax and Grey Ghost, their massive forms partially obscured by the mist that clings to the rocky terrain, rest quietly nearby, their watchful eyes ever alert.

The air between you and Jace is charged, as it has been for days now. Since the arrival of the Dragonseeds and the beginning of the Red Sowing, there has been an unspoken tension, a shared anxiety that neither of you has fully voiced. Today, it seems, that silence is about to be broken.

Jace paces before you, his brow furrowed, his steps uneven. "I can’t help but worry," he finally says, his voice low, almost a growl. "Mother’s decision to let these Dragonseeds try to claim the dragons… it could destroy everything. The only thing that sets us apart, that makes us legitimate in the eyes of the realm, is our bond with the dragons. What happens if anyone can do it? What happens if they succeed?"

You watch him, feeling the weight of his concern settle over you like a heavy cloak. You understand his fear; it echoes within you as well. "They are Targaryen bastards, Jace," you say softly, trying to find the right words. "The blood of the dragon runs in their veins, even if the world doesn’t see them as we are seen. But you are right to be cautious. We cannot control what might happen if they succeed. But we can control how we respond."

He stops pacing, turning to face you fully. His dark eyes are intense, filled with worry and something deeper, something you’ve seen growing there in recent days. "What if it shatters everything? What if the realm no longer sees us as the rightful heirs? If they can claim dragons, what does that mean for us?"

You rise from your seat on a smooth outcropping of rock, moving closer to him, your steps slow and deliberate. You can feel the warmth of the dragons nearby, the heat from the mountain beneath your feet, but most of all, you feel the heat radiating from Jace, a fire that matches your own.

"We are more than our dragons," you say, your voice steady. "We are the blood of the dragon, yes, but we are also our mother’s children, the heirs of House Targaryen. That will not change, no matter what happens with the Dragonseeds."

Jace’s gaze softens as he looks at you, the storm in his eyes momentarily easing. "You always know what to say," he murmurs, his voice barely more than a whisper. "But I’m still afraid. Afraid of what this means for us, for our family."

You reach out, your hand finding his, and the contact sends a spark through you both. "Then we face it together," you say firmly, your fingers tightening around his. "Whatever comes, we face it together, as we always have."

For a moment, there is only silence between you, the kind of silence that speaks louder than words. The dragons are quiet too, their presence a comforting weight in the background. Jace’s thumb brushes over your knuckles, and the simple touch sends a shiver down your spine, the connection between you deepening with each passing second.

Without thinking, you step closer, and suddenly the space between you is gone. You can feel his breath on your skin, warm and unsteady, and the intensity in his eyes is almost too much to bear. The pull between you is stronger than ever, an undeniable force that you can no longer resist.

"Jace," you whisper, your voice trembling with something unspoken, something that has been building for so long.

He doesn’t reply, at least not with words. Instead, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that is both hesitant and eager, as if he is afraid you might pull away. But you don’t. Instead, you kiss him back, your hands moving to cup his face, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepens, all the pent-up emotions of the past weeks, months, perhaps even years, pouring out in that single moment. It is as if the fire that has always burned between you has finally found release, and there is no stopping it now.Jace’s hands find their way to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the desperation in his touch, the need that mirrors your own. "I’ve wanted this for so long," he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough with desire.

"So have I," you admit, the words coming out in a breathless rush. "Jace, I—"

He silences you with another kiss, more urgent this time, and you can feel his hands moving to the fastenings of your attire. There is a moment of hesitation, a final chance to turn back, but neither of you takes it. Instead, you help him, your fingers trembling as they work to undo his clothing as well.

The air is cool against your skin as your garments fall away, but you hardly notice. All you can focus on is Jace, on the way his hands move over your body, on the way he looks at you as if you are the only thing that matters in the world. And perhaps, in this moment, you are.

He guides you down onto the warm rock, his movements careful, almost reverent. The heat from the mountain seeps into your skin, mixing with the heat of his touch, and you feel yourself trembling, not from fear, but from anticipation.When he finally joins with you, the pain is brief, a sharp sting that quickly fades, leaving only the overwhelming sensation of being completely and utterly connected to him. Jace pauses, his eyes searching yours, as if waiting for your permission to continue.

You nod, your voice caught in your throat, but the look in your eyes says everything. "Please," you whisper, and that is all it takes.

He begins to move, slow at first, almost tentative, but as the moments pass, the hesitation fades, replaced by a growing urgency, a passion that neither of you can control. You cling to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, urging him on, meeting his every movement with your own.

The world around you fades, the sounds of the dragons, the wind, the distant roar of the sea, all becoming nothing more than a distant echo. There is only Jace, only the fire that burns between you, the flames that consume you both, driving you higher and higher until you feel as though you might burst from the sheer intensity of it.

Just as you reach the peak of your union, lost in the sensation of him, you hear a sound, the soft crunch of footsteps on the volcanic rock. Your eyes snap open, and you see him—Ulf the White, one of the Dragonseeds, standing a short distance away, his expression one of surprise and amusement.

Jace’s movements slow as he becomes aware of the intruder, but he doesn’t stop, his body still pressed intimately against yours. His eyes narrow, and you can feel the tension in him, the protective instinct that flares up at the sight of another man watching you in such a vulnerable moment.

Ulf’s smirk widens as he recognizes both of you, his voice carrying an easy confidence as he speaks. "Well, well, what do we have here? Prince Jacaerys and his fair sister, indulging in some… private time, I see."

Jace doesn’t respond immediately, his gaze locked on Ulf, his body shielding yours from view. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, dangerous. "You will leave now, Ulf. And you will speak of this to no one."

Ulf’s amusement doesn’t fade. "And if I don’t? I imagine this little secret could be worth quite a bit."

Jace’s expression hardens, the dragon within him rising to the surface. "I have another proposition for you. Leave now and never speak of this, or tell someone… and Vermax will feast on your bones."

The threat hangs in the air, thick with the promise of violence. Ulf’s smile falters, the realization of Jace’s seriousness sinking in. He glances at the dragons, both Vermax and Grey Ghost now fully alert, their eyes locked on him, and he takes an involuntary step back.

"Fine," Ulf mutters, the bravado gone from his voice. "Your secret’s safe with me, Prince Jacaerys. I was never here." With that, he turns and hurries away, casting one last nervous glance at the dragons before disappearing into the mist.

Jace watches him go, his body still tense, but as the danger passes, his attention shifts back to you, his focus returning to the moment you had both been lost in. The fire that had momentarily cooled begins to burn again, his hands finding yours, his gaze intense.

"I will marry you," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "In the traditions of our ancestors, in the ways of Old Valyria. You are mine, and I am yours, for now and forever."

The words send a shiver through you, the weight of them, the promise in them, filling you with a sense of certainty, of belonging. You nod, your voice trembling as you respond. "Yes, Jace. Yes."

And as he moves within you once more, the world around you falls away, leaving only the two of you, bound together by the fire of your blood.

[raitonsfw]

𝟸𝟻𝟶 𝟶𝟶𝟶 𝚢𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 | 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞 ꨄ

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Gojo was a big fucking spender, whether you liked it or not. Almost every clothing item he owned ranged well over the price of 150 000 yen, even his shoes; sometimes those were more expensive. Coming home one day from work, there’s a pink gift bag (complete with a lil bow and all) sitting pretty on the ottoman for you. As you opened it, black expensive lace peeked back at you and so did the price, zeros going on for miles on the tiny tag.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, boyfriend!gojo, rich!gojo, dirty talk, lingerie (and the tearing of it), grinding (if you squint), fingering, cunnilingus, slight breeding kink, p in v intercourse, creampie, insecurity (about how much gojo spends), corny pick up lines, sayings, & jokes, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, pretty, princess, good girl), lovedrunk, feral, & pussywhipped gojo (man loves you, would hang the moon for you fr), a surprise near the end (i said he loves you goddammit)

a/n: happy february 1st (finally can say it without the queue messing up my schedule) anyway, here's my second valentine for you loves! i hope you enjoy, until next week! 💌 wc: 3.4k. v-day m.list | m.list

a/n pt 2: p.s. i'm such a sucker for writing gojo kinda cringey. alsoo its not my best work but i did what i could!

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

Coming home was the biggest mistake you had made in your entire life, because what the fuck was this? Your fingers held up a piece of lace material, black in color and you puzzled at it as you noticed that the lingerie piece barely looked as though it’d cover anything; thanks to your million dollar boyfriend.

“It’s gorgeous, huh?” You heard his promiscuous voice ring out through the living room at just the right time, when your voice cursed him to the high heavens. You nearly jumped out of your skin, the lingerie falling near your feet and you turned quickly to face him, his hip popped against the doorframe.

“Satoru!��� Your face was bright red, the blush spreading down your neck and you hid your face underneath your sweatshirt sleeve with a scowl. Gojo was in his usual sorcerer uniform, complete with the black blindfold covering the vivid blue and you still tried to shy away from him even though you knew you couldn’t. Not when his eyes saw all, saw the way yours glistened at the thoughtful gift.

“Hey sweetheart. Like the gift?” 

“I told you not to buy me any more lingerie…” You huffed, glancing at the tag as you went to put the set back in the bag. There was an infinite amount of zeroes littering the price tag and you almost dropped the lingerie piece again– in utter shock that the fucking price was over 250,000 yen. “Oh my God…”

“Oh, please. I know you, you don’t wear lingerie sets more than twice. And last time I checked, I tore the last one.” He smirked, walking towards you with a tiny skip in his step and your hands trembled as you smoothed the lace over with your delicate fingers. “Besides, your favorite store was having a Valentine’s Day sale and I just had to have you in that.” 

Right, it was Valentine’s Day soon. 

“A sale?! This doesn’t look like a price tag for a sale. More like someone’s monthly rent, -toru.” You frowned, feeling Gojo’s strong arms fold underneath your waist and he took the fabric in his hands. Unfurling it from its tangled confines, he draped it over you with a gentle hum of a tune evading your surroundings.

“Hold it like that for me.” Gojo murmured as he stepped around you, standing in front of you while checking behind him as he backed up slightly. He focused on you, his fingers coming up to ‘snap a picture’ and you blushed profusely when you saw the dopey smile that mustered up on his face. Your blush turned into another scowl though as you remembered the price of it, how could he just spend money so fruitlessly?

Gojo lifted his blindfold for a few seconds to glance at your figure; you could see the gears turning in his head and you wouldn’t be very surprised if he sprouted an erection right then and there. But he also noticed your glowering eyes and his lighthearted demeanor faded away, a worried look washing over his face.

“What’re mad for, baby? I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to spoil you.” 

“You spend so much on me, I’m not worth that much.” You muttered, starting to fold the lingerie set to put it back in the bag; away and out of sight from you.

You usually liked Gojo’s sweet gestures, gifts piled at your doorstep like it was Christmas every month normally but this time it just seemed a bit out of place– you knew him to flaunt his wealth alot but this? He’s never gotten you something so expensive. You couldn’t accept such a generous gift that would be soiled within minutes of wearing it.

“Excuse me? Where’d you learn that crazy talk from?” Gojo said with an exasperated gasp, coming to embrace you and you didn’t answer him as he pulled you close. His hands feathered through your hair and honestly you couldn’t breath through the fabric of his jacket, the turtleneck part of it threatening to strangle you as he squeezed himself around you in a tight hug.

“Don’t ever think that! I would buy the world for you if I could manage to fit it inside a gift box.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh into his chest, his words souring after they sat for a minute. “That was so cringey, Satoru.” 

“You still love me though, perks of being me… I think?” Gojo let go of you, holding you by your shoulders now and you reached up to slip his blindfold fully off. He blinked through the dimness of the apartment, his eyes fixating on you once more. 

There was something that just made you feel so in love with him, everytime you managed to zero in on those hypnotic eyes of his– almost every bad thought melted away and yeah, you were definitely overreacting. 

Let the man spoil you, if he so wishes.

“Yes, I still love you.” You fonded, planting a luscious kiss against his lips and he had no qualms, his mouth instantly moving against you eagerly. Gojo softly moaned into the kiss, one of his hands snaking down your back towards your ass and you squeaked out as he gave you a tiny swat against the plushness of it.

“Great, now go try on the lingerie.” Thrusting the bag back into your hands, he grinned at you and there was no way in hell you could deny him– not with the way he looked, so ecstatic to see you in the precious lace garments he bought you.

Putting it on wasn’t much of a struggle, it fit you nicely in all the right places. The full length mirror did you just enough justice, staring back at a body that had devious curves and everything in between the skimpy lace that barely covered your intimates. You weren't all that self conscious, though you weren’t sure what you’d do once you were in front of Gojo. Where would he look first? 

Would his eyes lay against your breasts that bobbed in the lace, perched up prettily or would they drag to your soft thighs, cuffed in the garter belt holding up the thigh highs that accented the set? Would they focus on your mound and in the middle, your drenched pussy staining the thin fabric or would he drool over everything all at once? 

“Baby… Are you done yet? I’m getting lonely.” You heard him mewl outside the door, a soft tap from his knuckle echoing through the bathroom and you nodded to yourself, adjusting little bits and pieces of the thread to make sure it sat perfectly for him. 

You paused with your hand on the doorknob. Why were you so goddamn nervous? 

“You have it on? C’mon, let me see already.” 

As you opened the door, Gojo wasn’t in front of it anymore. Instead, he was seated on the lavish sofa that met in the center of the room, his head lying lazily against the back of it with his arms extended. His thighs were spread apart on the cushions, his legs folding outwards and you could already see a lush bulge in his trousers, peaked with interest as he waited impatiently for you. You wanted to skip the shame of twirling for him and just sit yourself right against it, sit yourself down on it and just–

Gojo’s head snapped up– he must’ve sensed you– and his bright eyes zeroed in on your face first. Then they trailed down towards your body, drinking in the adorned curves of the lingerie on you and his mouth fell open in a quiet sigh. “Y/N…” 

You walked towards him, a small sway to your step and his hands pressed down against the sofa as you neared him. They nearly white knuckled it, his mouth still open and his eyes flickering over every crevice of the threads decorating you– his knees had quickly pressed together and you’ve never seen him so flustered in your entire life. Sure, you’ve modeled for him here and there with other gorgeous sets; but this was different. 

Was this your Satoru? The ego induced maniac who could and would knock you off your feet with a single flirtatious remark? It was refreshing to see him like this– reduced to nothing but boyish clouded lust.

“You going to say something other than my name, baby?” You asked, pureness reining your voice and you purred inwardly when he was still speechless. You eyed at the seam of his trousers, noticing the way it tented up considerably just from a few seconds of gazing you over. “Satoru?” 

“Hi, yes sorry. Come here.” Gojo’s hand faltered slightly as he reached for you and you happily obliged, straddling his lap. A low hum escaped him as you sat flush with his clothed cock against your heat, his legs spreading apart again to let you sink down onto him comfortably. “Holy hell, is this heaven ‘cause you look like–” 

“So help me if you finish that sentence, I’ll take this off.” You interrupted, getting ready to move off of him but his hands grasped your hips greedily. 

“That’s what I’m hoping for, angel.” A naughty grin crept up on his face as he pulled you into a warm kiss. Yeah, it’s definitely your Satoru.

His tongue slid past your lips easily and his eyes slipped shut, drawing you closer to him– faintly aware of the slickness that roughed up his trousers. You bit his lip seductively and a startled moan spilled into your mouth heavily, his hips subtly rocking up into you. It was needy and desperate and everything you ever wanted to hear and feel from him, because of course he was already riled up– just look at you.

His fingers looped inside the lace of your panties, rubbing his fingertips against the seams of it and you hummed as they curved towards the where you needed it most. His other hand fondled your breast, the flesh of it spilling out over the cups and all he wanted to do was press a tender kiss to your nipple, sucking it in between his teeth to nip and tug til it reddened with overstimulation. 

“Are you going to touch me or…” You shook him from his daze, earning a sarcastic snort from him.

You moaned quietly as his hand immediately slipped underneath the fabric, toying with your nipple until it hardened and a gentle finger swiped through the slick that collected inside your panties. He tsked, “Already ruining the lace, so filthy…” 

You let out a tiny huff, intending to apologize when two of his fingers sunk through your arousal and you leaned into him with a whimper. Gojo didn't hesitate to mark up your neck as soon as you moved forward, his teeth grazing alongside the nasty bruises and your hips jutted out as he expertly curled his digits into you. You whined into his ear– a glorious symphony if he must say so himself– and his thumb pressed into the swell of your clit. Sucking a languid hickey against the near front of your neck, he noticed you had started to move against him– fucking your perfect cunt down onto his pliant fingers.

Every roll of your hips, his cock got some action as well; as your clit rubbed against the tip of his cock that threatened to burst out of his trousers now. Holy fuck, he was straining too– he knew you could feel it as you sat right against it. He was losing his train of thought more and more by the second as you panted out, he needed more– so much more, his dick was nearly crying as it leaked out tiny droplets of precum in his boxers. If you weren’t so lost in pleasure at the moment, you would’ve noticed the small wet spot forming in the fabric– his jujutsu uniform’s probably going to need to be dry cleaned.

He would finish his pick up line if he could speak, his voice not quite there anymore– you looked like a heaven sent angel veiled in the lingerie of a hell spawned devil. 

From his angle, Gojo could see the swell of your ass lightly jiggling, the lace barely covering it and the flesh of your thighs sat beautifully against his own and honestly he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed you, his vision blackening with lust as you worked yourself fully open on his fingers now. His cock ached so fucking badly and he vaguely noted to get you crotchless lingerie next time so he could just slide right in without needing to fumble with the weird straps. 

When your breath hitched in your throat as your clit spasming directly against the frenulum of his cock, his tip desperately trying to dip into the lace through his thick fucking clothing– he lost it.

“Fuck it…” You heard him growl against your laced breast as he popped it out of its cup, the entire bralette tearing on impact. You gasped at the ripping sound, but you were too delirious to scold him as his fingers started fucking faster into you to keep you quiet about the torn lingerie. Gojo snagged your nipple in his mouth with a frantic moan, his fingers coated with slick as he pulled them out quickly to tear off your panties. They shedded easily and you were left with remnants of lace pristine against your body, another gasp coming from you as you realized what he did.

“-toru, what are you–?!” 

Before you could finish your sentence, your entire figure was thrown against the cushions of the sofa and his shirt and trousers were stripped from his body. His eyes were trained on your ripped lingerie and you couldn’t quite figure out what was going on in his head until he yanked the rest of it off, excluding your thigh highs. And now you were exposed in front of him and he was out 250,000 yen; because he just couldn’t keep his composure.

“I’ll buy you another set, I swear– though I can’t guarantee it’ll survive…” Gojo said under his breath, planting kisses down the span of your chest. He trailed them towards your tummy, innate circles rubbing into your hips and he shuddered at how the garter belt sat snug against your waist– and how easy it was to tear off, his teeth latching on it with fervor. You gasped as you felt the band snap, your thigh highs falling  down slightly where they sat as they were no longer held up by the precious lace. 

He grabbed the extra lace from his mouth and threw it somewhere across the room, his tongue immediately delving into your tight heat. A broken whine was coaxed from your throat as he fucked it in and out needily, quiet pants breathing over your cunt. Gojo’s hands grabbed at your thighs, pressing his nose straight into your clit as he lapped at everything he could reach and you couldn’t help the wanton moans that leaked from your mouth, your hands grasping at his snowy hair.

He was downright animalistic at this point. You carved his shoulder blades with your nails, desperate for him to drive you over the edge; your impending orgasm making your legs tremble. “Satoru, shit– c-close…”

“C’mon, cum for me, pretty.” He murmured into your cunt, slightly muffled and you keened up into his mouth– ultimately fucking yourself on his tongue. And God, did he groan at that; his hums of utter satisfaction basically sent you spasming through your climax. Your hands flew to the edge of the sofa, clutching tightly as you rolled your hips into the insane pleasure– into his mouth that lapped up every drool of arousal that leaked out from your convulsions. He was vain with it too, looping out his fucking name against your folds to claim you as you whimpered his name.

“T-Take me with you to shop next time.” You managed out as you sat up on your elbows, looking down at him while you came down from your high. “I’ll decide what you can and can’t rip.” 

Gojo tutted out a laugh, coming up to hover over you– his chin glinted with your juices and you reddened at the sight of how goddamn needy you were. “Fine, baby– now arch your back f’ me.”

His cock prodded your entrance, slender fingers wrapped around the base of it as he guided it into you greedily and you threw your head back against the arm of the sofa with a whine. You did exactly as he said; you arched your back into the intoxicating pleasure, his cock stretching you out and filling every bit of space you could give him. He fit perfectly within you everytime, which made you dizzy with lust as you hooked one hand around the back of his neck.

“Always take me so well, princess.” Gojo purred, not bothering to let you adjust as he started to snap his hips into you. “Fits like a glove, huh?” 

You were so sore already– from the last orgasm wreaking havoc– but you couldn’t get enough of his long cock drilling into you, every thrust kissing your cervix and making your walls clench around him with whimpers drowning out the riveting squelches. You managed to look up at him, his fingertips nudging into the plush of your thighs, against the sleek material of your thigh highs and you knew he wasn’t going to last very long. 

His eyes were already rolling back into his head at every fill of his cock dragging against your walls, his jaw slack and you were surprised at how pussy whipped he was– normally he’d watch you religiously writhe underneath him. His hair was disheveled as he ran his hand through it before frantically gripping your thigh again, panting out curses and you inadvertently squeezed hard around him at the action with a high pitched moan. 

“Oh– fuck, holy shit..! Keep squeezing me like that, we’re g-gonna have to go shopping–” Gojo groaned out, his cock pounding into you harder now, pleasure coursing through your entire body as he hit your sweet spot dead on. 

“F-For more lingerie?” 

“No, for a fucking crib.”

“Fuck, Satoru– faster.” You whined out, completely obsessed with the thought and you felt your second climax tremble through your thighs, straight towards the throbbing of your cunt. ‘Cum in me, -toru…please.”

Gojo didn’t answer you, too wrapped up in your pretty pussy with hefty moans pouring out of him and his fingers slipped down towards your clit. He rubbed circles against it, interchanging his angle to fuck you deeper, faster– and you could feel how close you were.

“Got another surprise for you on Valentine’s Day, baby…” He started babbling, his chest rising and falling as he rutted into you. His eyes slipped from his cock, creamy and wet from your arousal, to your eyes now. “Involves a little jewelry piece, think you’ll love it… Think you’ll love me even more.” 

You didn’t hear him though, too caught up in your release caving in every sense you had and replacing them with pure euphoria. You couldn’t fucking see, hear, even think as it overtook your body. You came so hard around his cock, clenching and unclenching which brought Gojo to his own release rather quickly. He stilled in you with a harsh whine and his eyes squeezed shut as he came in you, white ropes leaking out rather abruptly. 

He repeated soft praises like ‘good girl, take it all…’ and ‘gonna make sure none drools outta you, so good for me’ a few times in a needy tone, collapsing against your chest afterwards. Gojo buried his face into your neck, smoothing his hands over the thigh highs you had on. 

“I’m so sorry about the lingerie, Y/N…” He apologized, his eyes glancing up towards yours as he moved over to litter kisses on your cheek. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow, I promise. You’ll pick out your Valentine’s Day lingerie set and I’ll watch you model it for me–”

You interrupt him with a soft kiss, humming against his lips. “It wasn’t my money, it was yours, you idiot.”

Gojo blinked at you, then a mischievous look crossed his face. “How about a nice pink set this time? Frilly, rose hearts covering your perky nipples and–” 

“Satoru.”

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[sunnyxdani]

there’s a lack of understanding about the point of life is strange 2

i don’t know if this is an unpopular opinion but it just makes me chuckle a bit when people talk about how much they hate every ending and how there should be an ending where their charges are dropped. like, yes, we all wish sean and daniel could’ve gotten justice like they deserved. but, as a black person playing this game, not once did i ever legitimately expect that to be the outcome.

there isn’t a happily ever after to this story and that’s quite literally the entire point. the game is about how fucked up the system is against people of color, specifically how it affected mexicans in that point in time with trump being in the picture.

i don’t know, i just find it funny how it truly feels like a lot of white people played this game and were like “:000 what????? you mean sean either ends up in prison for 15 years, dead, or is left to defend himself in another country????? but that’s SO unfair!” yeah. exactly. glad you’re caught up on what institutional racism is? like idk what to tell you girl

like, please open a news app or something because this shouldn’t be surprising. and the cherry on top is that this rage is generally exclusive to these two fictional characters lmao, cases happen similar to this one irl (without the powers involved obviously) and the same people won’t blink an eye. go to a protest or call your representatives if you’re so damn mad about the wolf brothers

[dumbseee]

gentleman.

in which nothing is easy for a woman in a "man’s world."

carlos sainz jr x journalist!reader.

fc: danna paola.

note: inspired by this. sorry for the typos and mistakes :(

liked by lissiemackintosh, lilymhe, charlottesiine and 109 000 others.

y/n: living lil y/n’s dream ☁️

_

charlottesiine: missing you love!

liked by y/n.

lissiemackintosh: you’re going to kill it y/n!

liked by y/n.

fan1: i want to be her so bad

fan2: she’s living my dream

fan3: so beautiful!

fan4: good luck y/n!

fan5: what does she knows about f1?

fan6: another clout chaser… i wonder which driver will be her first victim🤣

view all comments.

_

"hi carlos! first of all, congrats on p3, you did amazing!" you smiled, your mic in hand, shaking a little and trying to stay composed as carlos stood in front of you. he smiled at you, and you swore that you could faint right now. but you had to stay professional. "thank you…?" he said so you could tell him your name. "y/n l/n, it’s my first day." you smiled again and he smiled back, handing out his hand, that you obviously shook. "i have a question for you before letting you rest, how are you going to prioritise or how is it going to work with you to test everything, do you think it will be a game changer or not?" you asked, handing him the mic, he took it and started thinking. "good question! you have great questions y/n." carlos answered first before getting cut by someone behind you. "ha! mate, if you want her in your bed, no need to lie to her." another journalist said, and you could feel your heart fall in your stomach.

you knew that kind of thing was going to happen to you during your career. because it was well known that formula one was a man’s world and women had no business in it. you took a step back and bit your lower lip to stop the tears from falling. you knew you were qualified, you knew that you worked hard for it, it was your dream! but you felt utterly disrespected and embarrassed, you couldn’t even look at carlos anymore as you tried to back up to leave. but carlos wasn’t having that, he grabbed the mic you were still holding, which surprised you and pulled you back where you were previously standing. you looked up at him and was surprised to see how pissed he looked, his warm eyes were now cold and dark, his jaw clenched and his hand flexed against the mic which showed his veins.

"how dare you call yourself a man and talk to a woman like that?" he called out, the journalist turned bright red and struggled to find his words. "she heard the disgusting words you had to say about her and it hurt her, so you better apologise right now, and loud enough for the entire paddock to hear you." the man mumbled some apologies before running away, pushing some people out of his way which made the others people surrounding you laugh. carlos looked at you and smiled, putting his hand on your shoulder. "you have a bright future ahead of you, y/n. i’m looking forward to your interview in silverstone." he winked and finally disappeared, leaving you blushing and completely lost.

carlos sainz was definitely a gentleman.

liked by charles_leclerc, charlottesiine, lissiemackintoch and 890 009 others.

carlossainz55: amazing race for us! another podium for me and charles, thanks for the support guys! we must stay focus for the next race!

_

charles_leclerc: well said!

scuderiaferrari: proud of you boys!

fan1: YAAAAAAY

fan2: p2 and p3 for ferrari, i used to pray for times like this

fan3: who’s the girl on the fourth pic?

fan4: @.fan3 a random journalist

fan5: @.fan4 idk about random tho, that’s y/n l/n, the journalist carlos stood up for in autria

fan6: is that y/n l/n??

view all comments.

_

"congrats on p2 carlos!" you said with a big smile, you weren’t pointing a mic at him, you were actually heading back to your car when you bumped into the ferrari driver. he looked surprised to see you, but smiled back. "y/n! i was expecting you during the post-race interviews, where were you?" he asked, he was still wearing his race suit, tied up to his waist which had to be the sexiest sight you’ve ever witnessed. "i was feeling sick so i asked lissie to do them for me. i watched you- i mean, i watched you and max and charles of course!" you added, flustered and suddenly turning bright red. carlos laughed and patted your head which made your heart skip a beat. "haha! don’t worry cariño, i hope you’re feeling better, i need you to be there to interview me when i finally get to be p1." you smiled and nodded. "i promise to be healthy to interview you!" carlos smiled at you before walking to his car, you watched him leave and felt your cheeks getting hot when he turned around to wave at you before hopping in his ferrari.

carlos sainz was successfully playing with your heartstrings.

liked by lissiemackintosh, charlottesiine, carlossainz55 and 345 010 others.

y/n: happiness is a butterfly.

_

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[rui-xyz]

『Make Your Dreams Come True』⇝♡

⭒Alt. title: normal call gone booty :000

⭒Synopsis: Gojo's flirting with you over the phone, as usual, when you suddenly ask him to come over...

⭒Warnings: NSFW, sexual content, subby satoru ml, reader and Gojo are both switchy tho, afab!reader, fingering, dick riding, not clearly stated that reader/gojo are virgins but you can imagine it, reader/gojo are best friends at the start, lots of the word "baby", implied fortnite (I'm probably missing stuff but oh well)

⭒Setting: Juju high Satoru but aged up ykyk cuz his sunglasses are so mmf

⭒Notes: first post but I'm considering making this a series HELP

You and Satoru happened to be playing games together, as usual when you weren't on missions or doing schoolwork. You adjusted your headphones slightly, feeling the growing head discomfort from wearing them too long. It was worth it for Satoru, however, since he never ceased to make you laugh.

"Why would you run so far off, dude, you're gonna get sniped," you sighed, seeing how far away he was on the map.

"Pfft, I'll be fine, worry about yourself, you're one-tap."

"Maybe if my teammate decided to come help me I wouldn't be."

"You're jus' sayin' that cause you miss me."

This was the usual back-and-forth until one of you got ambushed or something. The normal flirting from Satoru while you shrugged it off with a chuckle. Though, you'd been playing for hours now, and tiredness was creeping into your skull, knocking down the filters of brain and speech one by one.

"Yeah, miss you a lot," you murmured, meaning to sound teasing. It came out all too genuine. "Wish you would come save me, Satoru."

You listened to the clacking of his keyboard, faint over your headphones. Satoru's silence made it all too easy to hear the lull in his playing, the quick pause and pickup. You looked at the map, knowing exactly what it meant. Sure enough, his ping was high-tailing it towards yours. You chuckled to yourself, feeling warmth in your chest. What a hero.

"Something funny?"

"No, no, you're just down bad for me is all," you spoke slyly.

"As if I try to hide it."

"Y'know, I reread our chats when I want an ego boost."

"You serious?" He snickered.

"Yeah. All the times you've called me gorgeous and told me I had a nice ass..."

"Wait, waitwaitwait-"

You heard the clacking of his keyboard stop entirely. Pausing, you realized and looked at your phone, tapping into your messenger. His typing bubble was up, as expected. You continued walking towards him in the game as you waited for his message to come up.

"Ok, there."

You turned to your phone and deadpanned.

S͟a͟t͟o͟r͟u͟u͟u͟u͟u͟ ͟🥺͟️͟🥺͟️͟:͟

Beautiful tits

And rack

You shook your head and hastily typed back 'nice cock' before picking up where you were. You heard his phone go off, a few seconds go by, then his seductive voice spoke to you again.

"Wanna see it, baby?"

"Bet."

He breathed out a laugh and you continued playing, occasionally speaking your mind a bit too much from grogginess. The sleep deprivation had started to show in your voice, though.

"You tired or something? Need a sleebge?"

"Yuh, I'm eepy," you yawned, rubbing one of your eyes. "But let's just finish this match."

"We're gonna lose if you're nodding off while you're getting cracked. Might as well quit while we're ahead."

"Ugh, that phrase. You sound like, fuckin', me." You cringed at your own phrasing, letting out another yawn.

"I wish I was fuckin' you."

After the moment it took your mind to register the words, you felt a response roll off of your tongue faster than you knew it was even there.

"Then come over."

You heard the usual chuckle that you and Satoru would share after something like that snake through your headphones. When you didn't join in, there was a pause.

"Are you... serious?"

A moment. A single moment was all it took in your tired mind to commit to this idea of yours.

"Did it sound like a joke, Satoru?"

You could hear his speechlessness, you could tell he was floundering like a fish right now, his keyboard, his screen, the whole match left completely forgotten. Once you'd had enough of the silence, you spoke to him again.

"I'm absolutely for real right now. Door's unlocked...

Lemme make your dreams come true."

"Ffffffuck."

You watched on your screen as a popup appeared. "THE_honored1 has disconnected." With a smile, you left the call, pulled off your headphones to let your ears breathe. You had just finished standing and stretching when there was a soft knock on your door. So uncharacteristic of Satoru.

You quickly checked your clothes and hair, just to make sure you didn't look like an absolute slob who had been in their gaming chair all day. Oh well, Satoru probably wasn't too far off from that himself.

You opened the door, only to find your friend was completely quiet, barely able to meet your eyes, though it seemed like he couldn't look away from them either. With a friendly smile, you stepped out of the way and motioned for him to enter. He stepped past you, hands in his pockets. You closed and locked the door behind him, then turned around just in time to feel an arm wrap around the small of your back and a hand gently grab your chin.

"I need to know..." He paused, taking a breath. He was basically panting, hot breath ghosting over you with each exhale. "I need to know right now... if you really meant it."

"Every word."

"You still do?"

"Of course."

At that, the hand under your chin pulled your face to his and his lips crashed into yours. You could feel him trembling as your arms wrapped over his shoulders, and you could feel his heart racing, beating right out of every artery in his body.

He felt sparks, fireworks, the whole nine yards, as he kissed you. His whole body seemed to stall like an old car as soon as his lips touched yours. His brain turned to mush- no, melted. Reduced to a boiling soup in his skull. Because finally, finally he was kissing you.

'Girl of my dreams' wasn't how he would describe you, but he'd dreamed of you. He'd literally seen you in his slumbering mind, and wished he could do more than just the occasional flirting and borderline sexting. Satoru had been fantasizing about you for years, it felt like, ever since you'd reached that casual first-name basis. He wanted to know what it would really be like. If those fantasies could be recreated.

And when you kissed back, waking him from the sloshing pool his mind had become, he tugged you close, bodies flush. He felt your breasts squish against his chest, one of your hands cupping the side of his head just under his ear, and God did it make him lightheaded as all the blood in his slovenly brain ran south. He could feel his voice in the back of his throat, threatening to let out a moan with every exhale. He struggled to hold it back, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of you by acting like an animal in heat just from your kiss and your touch.

You couldn't say you weren't feeling anything yourself, though. You were sure that, without your bra, Satoru easily could've felt how your nipples were hardening, and your breath shook as one of his hands left your chin and sensually trailed down your side and up under your shirt. But, of course, these feelings weren't nearly as turbulent as Gojo's excitement and arousal, which were only hightened when your tongue slipped between his lips.

You softly leaned into him, tapping his leg with your foot to signal for him to move back. As you continued kissing him, you led him back to your bed, shoving him down to sit on the edge of it and finally letting your lips leave his. As you caught your breath, you crawled up onto him, straddling his lap. He looked up at you with eyes that screamed how bad he wanted you, panting heavily but still wanting more. Then, he chuckled.

"This isn't at all how I expected."

"Hmn?" You beckoned for him to explain, draping your arms over his shoulders and carding one hand into the hair at the base of his neck.

"It's all so backwards from how I pictured it. I always thought I would be the one to invite you over, run the show... be the one in charge, but fuck, I'm such a loser," he sighed out, trailing his hands over your waist and stomach under your shirt. To help him, you pulled it over your head and off, giving him better access and a nicer view.

"A loser? What, for having a girl on top of you?" You purred, trailing kisses along his cheek and jaw. "Please, there's at least a billion guys who'd sell their soul for that."

His voice and breathing trembled as he tilted his head to the side for you. "No, I mean... how I barely had the balls to even come over... Let alone ask you to."

"Trust me, baby, you can do anything if you're tired enough. Or if you're Satoru Gojo," you whispered, nibbling lightly on his ear. A shudder ran down his spine at that, and he felt like he could cum right then and there.

"Fuck... Keep talking like that and I won't last for shit."

"Yeah? And how do you think I feel when I'm touching myself to your messages, hmn?"

He let out a soft gasp as you ground your hips against his. His hands ran to your hips, gripping them and guiding them as they rolled.

"Saying I could last three minutes would be a generous estimate."

"God, you do that too?" He asked, voice coming out whiney. You let out a seductive chuckle that burned through his loins.

"Of course I do. Ego boost, remember?"

"You like when I call you gorgeous?" He sighed, feeling you throb against his crotch.

"Don't dislike it," you admitted. "You're pretty damn gorgeous yourself, though. Pretty boy Satoru."

He felt his rock solid cock twitch in his pants at your words, once again. He was doomed. His molten mind knew that, even as he helped you take his shirt off. And then your hands trailed down his chest and stomach, making him even dizzier.

"Don't think... I can take much more of this..." He admitted as your soft lips kissed down his shoulder. He could feel you smile against his skin.

"Hehe, awwwe, you close Satoru?" You giggled and gave a few harsh rolls of your hips, sending hot pleasure coursing through his lower half. He gasped, hands gripping you tightly.

"Fuck, fuck, Y/n, don't do that."

"Okay, baby, I think you've waited long a enough. Just how long, I wonder?"

It felt like his whole life. An eternity he'd waited for this, for the chance to watch you unbuckle his belt and tug his pants down and off of him, followed by you doing the same with your leggings. You crawled back on top of him, hovering over his thighs and holding his shoulder with one hand to steady yourself. Meanwhile, your other hand found its way into his boxers, and you could hear his breath hitch as your fingers wrapped around his length and slowly started stroking up and down.

"Y-you don't have to do that," he breathed out, a hand gripping your wrist. "Trust me, I'm as hard as I could get."

"Well, I should hope so. You're bigger than even I expected," you chuckled, stilling your hand and pulling it away.

He sighed softly and looked up at you through his pretty lashes with a smug look. "And what about you? Think you could take it? Think you're even ready to?"

You felt yourself clench on nothing at his words, feeling how intense his eyes were on yours. With a smile, you grabbed his hand and placed it at the waistband of your panties.

"Why don't you find out?"

His smile left his face, mouth opening as he took a breath. His eyes left yours to look at where his hand was, and his mind stalled only a moment before his fingers dipped under the fabric of your underwear and softly tugged them down.

He left them about halfway down your thighs and reached up to cup your sex. He drug a finger through your folds, feeling how wet you were and suddenly wanting nothing more than to see how much pleasure he could bring you.

He continued pulling his finger forward until he found your clit, stopping to rub gentle circles against it. He heard a soft noise fall from your lips and watched your hips just barely twitch. God, did he want to turn you into a mess.

He looked up at you and your heated expression. "Can I...?"

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead," you spoke, sounding the least composed he'd heard you all night. Carefully, he slipped one of his fingers between your folds, stopping at a shallow depth and curling his finger to tease you.

"You want it all the way in?" He asked with a smirk on his face and a playful lilt to his voice. You bit your lip, lidding your eyes at him, and wrapped your hand back around his cock.

You watched his whole teasing nature melt away as his cock twitched in your hand, begging for friction. Silently surrendering, he pressed his finger deeper until your cunt reached the base of his finger. He felt around your insides, watching you squirm slightly.

"'S that feel alright?"

"Yeah, you're all good."

At that, he curled his finger forward finding your g spot and feeling your walls clench around him. He added another finger and prodded against that spot. Your hips rolled against his hand as a soft moan was pulled from your lungs. The moment he heard your voice make such a heavenly sound, he was hooked. He couldn't help but move his fingers faster, try to reach deeper, and softly rub his thumb against your clit.

"Satoru," you called, somewhere between a moan and a fond chuckle. You reached a hand up to cover your mouth, only for it to be stolen away and replaced by a greedy pair of lips, drinking in every soft moan you gave. It didn't take long from there to feel a coil tightening in your abdomen, and as you pulled away from Satoru's lips for air, you leaned into him, pressing your chest to his and resting your chin on his shoulder.

"Y-you really want- hah- want me to cum now?" You asked making sure he was actually alright with that fact and not just lost without a thought.

"Fuck yes, baby. And I'll make it happen again when I'm inside you, mark my fuckin' words."

Hearing this, you felt your orgasm crash into you, making you stuff your face in the crook of his neck to muffle your sob. After all, two of your walls were shared with Shoko and Utahime, and you'd prefer that neither knew what was happening (particularly Utahime).

Once your orgasm had ended and you were catching your breath, you felt Satoru pull his fingers from his cunt, letting the cool air of the room touch your slick and make it embarrassingly obvious how wet you were. You pulled away from his shoulder and looked at him, finding he had two fingers in his mouth and a dreamy look in his eyes.

You tasted absolutely delicious. If he wasn't so painfully hard and losing patience, he'd have started eating you out right then and there, not stopping until you were barely lucid. God, how gorgeous you would look like that. But it'd have to wait for next time, and he'd make sure there was a next time.

"Need a break?" He asked softly, though it would pain him to hear you say yes.

"No, no, not after you've been waiting so nicely," you murmured, kissing across Satoru's face. As you did so, you took a hand off his shoulder and used it to tug your underwear all the way off. Once he realized what you were doing, he shifted around to tug his boxers down his own legs, leaving him completely bare under you. There was only one thing keeping you from being just the same.

"You gonna keep this on the whole time?" He asked slyly as he tugged at your bra strap.

"You want it off?"

"Wanna watch 'em bounce." He turned his eyes to yours, pausing your kissing. "You wanna keep it on?"

"Well, it's..." suddenly you looked the most flustered he'd seen you. Ever. Even when he was knuckles deep in your cunt, you'd kept some sort of stoic persona. But now, suddenly, even through the dark he could tell your face was red. "It's embarrassing..."

"Why's that?" He cooed, pulling you close so he could kiss along your shoulder.

"Whaddya mean, 'why-"

"I mean, it shouldn't be embarrassing around me. I worship you. It hasn't changed yet, why now?"

You thought through his words for a second, then sighed and grabbed both of his wrists, pulling them to your shoulder blades.

"...go ahead."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. It's like you said. Why not?"

He gave you a soft look and pressed an even softer kiss to your lips as he fumbled with the clasp of your bra. He unhooked it and carefully pulled it off of you, leaving you completely bare and with an urge to cover yourself as you felt your nipples harden even further with the cool air.

"'S okay, yeah?" He asked reassuringly, dropping his hands to your waist. When you nodded, he leaned forward and trailed kisses along your chest and both of your mounds. Your breath shook as you watched him and how his eyes would occasionally meet yours, making sure you knew how much he loved you and your body. After a bit more kissing, and some hickey-leving and groping, his lips lifted to meet yours, and his hands returned to his waist.

"You ready yet?" You sighed out, pulling your mouth from his.

"I've been ready for an hour, baby," he laughed, his enthusiasm returning.

"You sure?" You cooed playfully.

With a frustrated look on his face, you felt Satoru tug your hips down, pressing his cock against your folds. You bit your lip, feeling yourself throb and softly grind against him. He loosened his grip and you took that moment to lift yourself up enough for you to grab his length and line it up with your entrance.

You both exchanged a glance before he helped you ease down onto his cock, blissful sighs leaving both your throats. You felt Satoru whisper out his thousandth curse of the night and bury his face into the crook of your neck, letting out shaky whimpers as you continued to ease down.

"D-don't worry about- hah- t-taking it all..." he reassured, no longer helping you down - letting you go at your own pace.

"I can fit it," you murmur, continuing your careful decent down onto him.

"God, you're so hot inside. F-feels like I'm melting... All cause of me..."

You meant to chuckle, but it came out as more of a near-silent whimper as you sat down fully, feeling the tip of his cock kiss depths inside you that had never been reached before.

"You really did fit it all," he sighed out, an obvious smile on his face even though you couldn't see it. "You're a fucking angel."

He ran his tongue over several of the hickies he'd left along your neck and shoulder, all easy to hide, as per your request. You rested where you were, trying to get used to his length being the full way inside you.

"You alright?" He leaned back slightly, pulling your chin so you face him. "You're so quiet. You short-circuitting?"

You wiggled your hips and smiled at him, watching his lashes twitch as his eyes threatened to roll back at just that. "I could ask you the same thing," you purred between soft breaths. He leaned forward and rested his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist in a way that was hug-like. One of his hands reached down under one of your thighs and attempted to lift you up, but you stayed put, clenching your walls around him and hearing him let out a shaky breath.

"Can't wait, baby," he whimpered softly. "Can't wait. Please move."

Indulging his sweet, pathetic pleads, you lifted yourself up slowly and sat back down, the feeling of his tip ramming into a certain spot inside you making you clamp down on him once more. His arms tightened around you. "Shit," he let out a sobbing whisper.

"You're so shy right now, Satoru," you cooed, trying embarrassingly hard to keep your voice from cracking. "What happened to all the talk you give me over our calls?" With that, you slid yourself back up and down. The resulting sound that graced your ears was glorious. Right next to your ear, you heard the great Satoru Gojo squeak. So vulnerable.

You picked up these movements at a slow and steady pace, not wanting to overwhelm Satoru, but make him feel amazing. And amazing he felt, dizzy and with his soup-mind more than numb. His soft grunts told you that much.

Everytime his tip prodded against a sweet spot inside you, you wanted to slam yourself down onto him and feel it again, but you knew Satoru wouldn't last if you went too rough. Right now, his arms around your waist pulling you up and down told you what pace he wanted as he steadily pulled you faster. You slipped a hand up his neck and into his hair, tugging softly to hear more of his voice. As the speed mixed with pleasure started making it impossible to keep quiet, you pressed your mouth to the top of his head.

It was clear he knew he was hitting a good spot, as he kept angling his hips to reach that spot with every bounce. One of his hands reached down to rub at your clit and, in your mind, there was the thought that you might actually cum first.

"Fuuuck, I'm close," he whined out, and you could feel his hips twitching up in an attempt to meet your bounces. Between your moans, you whimpered out a "me too."

He started tugging your hips up and down faster, and his hips struggled to meet yours to ram into the very back of your cunt. You yelped the first time his tip slammed into that sweet spot, and hid your face in the side of his head, recalling your wall-mates.

It took barely 30 seconds for your orgasm to wash over you. At the last moment, Satoru grabbed your face and shoved his tongue down your throat, lapping up your orgasmic mewls and keeping you somewhat quiet. Your cunt squeezed his cock tight, and one more thrust did it for him, sending his eyes up and back into his skull as he saw white. Without a thought of hesitation, he pumped your insides full of his cum, orgasming harder than he'd ever felt in his life, and it only felt better at the thought of making you all his.

His lips still stuck to yours as you both attempted to catch your breath. He pulled away for a moment to look into your eyes, only to lean back in and give you a real kiss, making you whimper.

"I fucking love you, Y/n," he sighed out as he pulled away, looking back into your eyes with a gaze so genuine, it made you freeze. "This... this is a terrible way to ask, probably top 5 worst ways, but... will you be my girlfriend?"

You sighed out a laugh and pulled his lips back to yours, kissing him with a completely different intention now. "How could I say no to you, honey? Heh, and you called yourself a loser," you shook your head. "Would a loser be in this situation?"

He rolled his eyes at you and pecked you on the lips. You gave him a soft smile, but yelped as you felt him swing you around, tossing your back down onto the bed. Your mind caught up just in time to see him on top of you with a dopey smile on his face.

"So, Sweetheart, you wanna go again?"

BONUS: The Morning After

After spending the morning making sure that your legs still worked, your hickies were covered, and that no one was around to see Satoru leave your room, you met with your classmates as if it were any normal morning. It seemed like one too, as you greeted everyone, including Satoru. He'd waited for you to text him that everyone had already left, so he was the last one out.

"Morning, Sleepyhead," you waved.

"If I had known you would be so late, I would've came and woken you up myself," Geto sighed. You quietly thanked God that Geto didn't attempt to do that.

"Hey you guys," Shoko waved. You felt nervousness in your chest at how amused she seemed.

"Did you have fun last night?"

Your stomach dropped, and you slowly turned to Shoko, finding a smug look on her face. Geto look confused, but knew something was up when he saw the terrified stares of you and Satoru.

"What happened?"

"Nothing important," Satoru waved his hand dismissively with a sigh, but his face was red too.

"I'll tell ya later, " Shoko leaned over and whispered to Geto.

"What're you idiots making such a big deal about?" Utahime asked, looking at you and Satoru's expressions.

"Hey, Utahime, you didn't happen to hear any weird noises last night, didya?" Shoko asked, leaning around you to look at her.

"I did, actually. Around 11, I think. Why?"

"Nothing, just making sure I wasn't hallucinating or something," she brushed it off, continuing to smirk at you and Satoru. At that Utahime left with a suspicious look.

Geto suddenly put the pieces together, eyes widening. "Wait. You two..."

Shoko nodded with a knowing 'mhm'.

With a look over his shoulder to make sure that Utahime was really gone and Mei Mei wasn't looking, Satoru reached over and tugged your collar to the side, displaying a blue hickey. You slapped his hand away, looking at him with a beat red face.

"Satoru!" You gasped.

"Oh, we're dating, by the way." He spoke coolly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Took you long enough," Geto rolled his eyes.

"I told you, man, I had a plan this whole time."

"Last I checked, that wasn't at all the plan."

"Well, I had to make some... situational changes."

You, Geto, and Shoko all deadpanned at his bullshittery.

"Okay, look, the point is that it worked out."

"I guess I can confirm that," you sighed.

"Is he any good?" Shoko asked, nonchalantly. "Eh, why bother asking? I could hear the answer to that last night."

"Shut up!!"

[kazbrekkerscrutches]

Spencer Reid - We Shouldn't Be Doing This

Warnings: smut themes but no actual smut, fed!spencer x enemyfed!reader, enemies to something (let u pick babes), insults, angst, one-bed trope (ur welcome)

This is Spencer in the more recent seasons, but you can picture him in your preferred season.

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: Y/N and Spencer have never liked each other. They are always competing over who's the smartest, who's the most handy with a gun. Yet, when they're sent on a mission and they end up in a motel room with one bed, things get interesting.

A/N: Yall are gonna love this. This is inspired by this. Thank you for that. The girlies are gonna love this one! Thanks for reading <3. Let me know ur feedback! @hereforhalstead thank u for the idea.

I had started working at the BAU for a couple of years. I got along fine with the girls, JJ and Emily. Garcia was my girl, hyping me up and helping me with anything. Most of the boys were fine too, Morgan made me laugh until I couldn’t breathe, Hotch was like a big brother to me and Rossi was a father figure to me. But there is one guy that was very insufferable and the only person in the BAU that I could not stand. Dr Spencer Reid. 

Don’t get me wrong, he’s a very attractive man. Yet he is the most infuriating person I have ever met. 

He didn’t seem to like me too, when I joined the BAU. He looked at me with dark eyes. His hair was always messy, his snarky attitude made me want to kill him sometimes. 

After joining the FBI for about six months, Spencer and I were competing against each other all the time. It didn’t matter if the subject was mentioned, we were already arguing on who was the smartest. He kept making the remarks about his IQ, his eclectic memory and the fact that he could read 20 000 words per minute. 

It didn’t matter what I told him, he kept laying it on thick. He kept trying to prove to the entire world that no one could be smarter than him.

One day, Hotch and Rossi had enough of us screaming and arguing all the time. They sent us on a light care in New Jersey, about a girl who escaped a convicted killer. 

This is just fucking perfect. Now I’m stuck with the encyclopedia. I tell myself. I bet he wasn’t happy too, just by the look on his face. He looked like he was boiling on the inside. His face was red, his hair looking worse than usual and streams practically coming out of his ears. 

We got into a car, driving us to the airport. Total silence filled the car, neither of us daring to start an argument. We got out of the car after a while, heading into the jet and off to New Jersey.

It took about two hours to get there. My headphones were placed on my ears, reading the file of the young woman who escaped. I could see Spencer playing with a coin, not really doing anything. 

When the jet landed, we got into another car. We arrived late at night, meaning the interview with the girl would have to be in the morning. 

The car dropped us to a motel, where Hotch and Rossi had reserved a room for us. The lady in the front desk gave me the keys, both of us walking towards our room in silence. I could feel his stare burning the side of my head. 

As I opened the room, I was the first to see that the room was missing something. 

There’s only one bed.

I swore under my breath. Spencer saw it next, shutting the door behind me. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I heard him say. 

Rossi had planned this, he had to. He planned for us to get away, fix our issues and get back to Quantico like nothing was wrong between us. 

I dropped my bag on the chair beside the window. “This is just wonderful.” I mumbled sarcastically. 

I earned one of Spencer’s glares. “What? You think I want this more than you do?” I look at him, not amused by Rossi’s ruse. 

He drops his bags, taking off his coat and suit jacket. “I would’ve preferred to sleep on the concrete than to share a bed with you. I bet it would be much more comfortable.” 

I scoffed, taking off my coat and dropping it on the chair. “Right in with the fire, mh? You like that, to get me fired up and all ready to insult you. What’s your fucking problem?” I speak with a harsher tone, anger clearly lacing my throat. 

“What’s my problem? You’re an arrogant idiot who barged into the BAU like it was your living room! You’re intolerable, Y/N! You know that?” He practically spit in my face.

“Oh, so now I’m the problem. Please, Dr Reid, tell me all of the remarks you have against me.” I say, stepping closer to him, looking up at his stern face. His breathing has gotten faster, his hands in fists by his side. 

“You’re ignorant, selfish. You only care about yourself and that small head of yours. You try to make yourself smarter than everyone else! Just because you went to fucking Stanford doesn’t mean your Einstein.” He started walking closer to me, anger radiating off of him. 

“What else? Hm?” I whisper, my voice stern and angry. I didn’t care what he thought of me. His opinion was the last thing I cared about. 

“You’re a spoiled little girl who got everything she wanted in her whole life. You got the job, the looks, the money. Everything. You didn’t work a single day in your life to earn all of that.” He grabbed onto my forearms, clenching his fists entirely against my wrists. He had pushed them behind my back, pinning me to the wall behind them. His voice got quieter, still angry and venomous. 

“Fuck you, Reid.” I whisper in his face, my face clearly affected by his words. My breathing has quickened too, my pulse fast and hard in my chest. My cheeks were flushed, the heat of his chest radiating off of me. “You’re telling me this for what, hm? To get me to hate you? Because, trust me, I already do. You’re a selfish prick, who only cares about how smart you are compared to the world. No wonder you can’t get anyone to stay with you.” I tell him angrily, his hands twisting around my forearms, untwisting them from my back and pulling them flush against his chest.

His blood was practically boiling. I could feel his hot breath on my face, his eyes burning with fury. “You better shut up before I make you shut up, Y/N.” He whispered roughly. 

I raised my eyebrow, testing his patience. “Or what? You’ll have me arrested? You can’t do that.” I whisper, close to his face. I don’t think he could’ve gotten more mad than he already was but boy I was wrong. 

He slammed his lips against mine, releasing my wrists to grab my face roughly. His hands claimed dominance on my jaw, sliding into my hair and pulling it. His mouth was engulfing mine, his tongue deep in my mouth. I melted into his touch, his rough hold on me making me release the madness against him. His lips left my lips, melting down to my neck. He left heated kisses, making my head lean back on the wall. His teeth grazed my neck, nibbling it and licking it with his wicked tongue. 

My hands clinged on his chest, the hardness of it under my fingers. His chest flexed under my harsh touch, my hands going all the way to his back and his slutty waist I had been eyeing for months. His breath was hot and sweaty on my neck, suddenly taking a bite into my neck, making me whimper softly. 

His lips left my neck, lifting his head to speak directly on my lips. “I hate you so much that it makes me love you.” He whispered on my lips, kissing me harshly with his hands around my jaw. 

He pulled me off the wall, his hands roaming down to my thighs and lifting them up to his waist. My hands went in his hair, his sharp jaw and all of the hot skin I could touch. 

He sat down on the bed, taking me on his lap. His hands were all over me, on my waist down to my hips and ass. He groped anything he could find. My lips went on his neck, tilting his head to give me better access. I found his sweet spot, making him cry out, moaning into my shoulder. He whispered in my ear, “We shouldn’t be doing this, Y/N.” His voice was rough and needy at the same time. 

“Everything about you tells me otherwise, Spencer.” I whisper roughly, kissing back up to his jaw, my hips set over his. He pulled my hips flush on his, a gasp leaving my mouth.

“Fuck it.” He mumbled under his breath, switching positions to set me under him, his tie falling on my chest. Both of us were hot and sweaty, our breaths labored and heart pounding. His hips were set harshly on mine, feeling every single inch of him. 

I grabbed his tie, pulling him closer to my face. “You’re not lying?” I whispered, my eyes fiery but not angered. He knotted his eyebrows slightly. “About what?” He mumbled softer than usual.

“About loving me? Because I would be a liar if I said I didn’t feel the same way.” I spoke softly, one hand tugging his tie and the other touching his jaw. 

“I’m not lying.” He whispered, a glimpse of surprise in his eyes. His gaze softened a little, both of his arms around my head.

“Good.” I whisper, my lips grazing his swollen lips. “Because there’s no going back to before after this.” I whispered, kissing him roughly. My hands on his jaw, feeling the power of it while he kissed me with exploding passion for the rest of night and for the following years. 

[ezgurple]

Do you ever plan on revealing April's right eye, Is it going to stay a mystery throughout your entire time posting? Or am I missing something?

i get this question a lotttt! :000 and no! i will probs never ever reveal whats behind april’s bang just cuz i like hearing everyonz little silly theories mwheheheh 😈 sorry :>

maybe when im on my deathbed i’ll come on here one last time and post a pic of her other eye

[thevirtualvalentine]

000. NARUTO, OBITO UCHIHA.

content warnings: (rough) face fucking, tobi who uses his madara impression on you, afab / femme reader, tbh he’s kinda mean, reader wants this guy bad, fatdicked!obito (real),

plot: you fuck around and find out with Tobi, they say curiosity killed the cat.

Can you imagine hanging around the akatsuki, for some reason you’re like .. really attached (attracted) to the goofy guy in the mask that’s just so silly and kinda a joy to be around. He’s real sweet to you and overall a lot different than the other cloaked members you’d met, he talks a bunch too! It helps to fill the more quiet spaces in your life.

You start trying to hold his hand, he’s pretty skittish at first. Pulling away and retracting before he’s the one initiating the touch with you in full force. Grabbing onto you or jumping into your arms when mean n’ grumpy Deidara yells at him for being a shitty partner and a sasori replacement. “Y/n!! Save me! Deidara-senpai is being a big ole meanie. Tobi doesn’t deserve this inhumane treatment! I’ll be calling HR on you.” Always dramatic and so whiny.

Then you keep seeing him, spending time with him alone in remote hideouts. He never takes off that mask of his, but you can clearly see his deep dark eye that stares into you. Even if your conversation isn’t ever breaching bellow surface level, you know he’s listening intently. He may be unserious and full of quirks, but he really does have his own sense of charm. You’ve always felt there was more to this guy than what he’s showing, maybe if you got to know him a bit more .. personally you’d figure it out.

One day you honestly just can’t take it anymore. “Tobi have you ever .. uhhh , you know.” You’re playing with your hands because you feel entirely ridiculous asking this masked entity such a lewd question. You’re starting to think it’s because of that same damn mask that you’re where you are now.

“Have I ever what y/n! You can tell me, Tobi’s a great listener~” he goads you, completely unaware of the whorish request you have in store for him. That same cheerful voice that makes you feel so comforted is asking you to be honest with him, your legs touching as you sit together on the floor.

“Y’know, you ever do it with anyone?” You’re gesturing with your hands nervously as he tilts his head in confusion.

“Do it? Do what! Tobi doesn’t quite understand what pretty miss y/n is asking for.” He places his hands together while leaning his head to the side, playing such an innocent role in all this.

“Has anyone ever sucked your dick?” You can’t even bother to face his masked appearance as it finally tumbled forth from your lips, the question you’ve been itching to ask. “Like, touched you in a way you liked or that felt really good?” He can’t be that unadulterated can he? If so this was going to be a very awkward conversation.

“Ooooo, does y/n wanna make Tobi feel good? Naughty girl asking such questions.” He waggles his finger at you as if to insinuate you were a pervert for asking him anything like that. He doesn’t answer your question but he doesn’t deny it either, pulling the tide of control back into his own hands.

“Eugh not when you put it like that” you cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, heat rising throughout your body wishing you could take back what you just asked.

“Tobi doesn’t mind, m’not stoppin you.” A schoolgirl like giggle escapes him as he stands up, shedding the ostentatiously long coat. Oh wow, you didn’t expect this guy to be so built, what the hell was he hiding under that cloak? An all black ensemble that covers him from head to toe but defines all of his muscle groups with a pair of black gloves. Still, the omnipresent mask doesn’t move.

You’re stuck peering up at him from your knees as he slides his fingers beneath your chin, angling your head to face him as he’s shrouded in light. “Still wanna suck my cock? Or did you change your mind.” When he speaks this time he doesn’t sound like Tobi, his eye flickers to life in dark red hues through the hole of his mask. The deep tone makes your jaw drop as you stare at him dumbly, grabbing his wrist as you scramble to make sense of what just happened. His entire being just changed in front of you, not even his chakra feels the same as it did before. They say curiosity killed the cat.

“Tobi?” You ask, almost afraid of what his answer could be. His chakra is dark and ominous, cool and uninviting as it swallows you whole. If Tobi had left and been replaced with another person in the blink of an eye, you’d believe them.

“No.” It’s simple, but you’ll take it. “Go on.”

You meekly nod your head while obeying his command, that voice of his is making your underwear drenched. That same red eye watches your nimble hands shake as you pull his cock out, “I’ll take care of you, good care.” The unnamed man pats your head in an effort to calm you but you just keep getting wetter and wetter each time he speaks. Something in his mannerism compels you to listen as if you’re in a trance.

“So obedient, what a good girl.” He’s not unaware of what his voice is doing to you, sharingan abilities and all. He just finds it cute, been waiting for this day for months. The day you stop beating around the bush and ask him for what he wants.

He’s thick, much thicker and longer than what you thought a man like Tob— no, whoever this man is, would be. You lick your lips at the sight of his angry brown tip that’s leaking thick globs of pre cum, begging for you to lick it up. He’s so hard it’s slapping against his own abdomen. What kind of expression must be on his face beneath that mask to be this stiff right in front of you.

He revels in the way you size him up, unabashed staring at the monster hidden beneath his pants. He thanks his Uchiha genes for such a pretty cock, it’s truly a masterpiece. “Don’t be shy when you were so eager earlier, I don’t bite.” A heavy chuckle leaves him as you start to work his pre up and down his shaft, spitting in your hands as it requires both appendages to fully jerk him off.

Once you find a rhythm with your hands that satisfies the man before you enough to elicit a grunt, you pop his head between your lips, suckling on the slit hoping to make him moan out. “Just like that, what a smart girl you are. You really know how to suck dick, hm?” But again, it’s him making you gush and clench your thighs as you sit up on your knees to suck him off. If you knew it was gonna be like this you would have asked Tobi to fuck eons ago, what the hell???

You start to take more of him in your mouth inch by inch, using a hand to brace yourself against his toned thigh. Your wrist twists in atune with each bob of your head along his girth as your cheeks hollow in. You try breathing through your nose so you won’t ruin the mood by gagging, but he’s just too thick. “What? Too big for you? Thought you wanted to suck my dick.”

You pull off of him trying to explain yourself but he doesn’t care, grabbing you by the curls as his red eye lowers in disappointment. “Less talking, ore sucking.” You’re shoved back on his fat cock while it jabs the back of your throat, effectively face fucking you.

“Your throat’s so warm, mhhm, and tight. Can you breathe down there?” Drool dribbles down his balls as your throat constricts around his cock. Tears forming in your waterline from the assault on your throat. You want to touch yourself to relieve the unbearable ache in your cunny from being used as a hole to fuck but the lack of oxygen makes you dumb, compliant in whatever way he holds your head still with his big hands. His heavy balls slap your chin with each thrust into your face.

It’s exhilarating and you almost wish you could thank him for using you so well, it’s exactly what you’ve been craving. You gurgle around his shaft with each drag of his hips, he doesn’t moan but groans when your tongue laps the underside of his cock. “Such a cute little thing, kept following me around. Wanted to fuck this throat so bad. Kept teasing me too, bet you were fantasizing about it.”

To say this is what you were expecting is far from the truth, you thought you’d have Tobi crying and whimpering while giving him the sloppiest top of his life, but here you are; having your throat bruised by a man you never truly knew. Shouldn’t you be scared? Alarmed?

Your cunt betrays you, oozing at the thought of what his heavy dick could do to your insides. You’d go slack from the intrusion alone, would it even all fit inside you?

Your jaw feels like it’s going to break off it’s hinges if he isn’t more careful with you, but it’s addicting with each revolution of his hips. The black fabric of his shirt riding up to expose scarred skin. Your hands trail up to his v-line and he shudders, “ahh— fuck, don’t do that.” He grabs a fist full of your hair before shoving you down further, not caring if you choke or not. “Make yourself useful, will you?”

His strong hands grip the side of your head, continuously fucking your throat raw in a way that you won’t be able to speak tomorrow. Each thrust of his hips lets the tip of his fat dick kiss the back of your throat and it makes your eyes roll back into your skull. You’re moaning, crying, drooling all from one man and it’s making you stupid.

“Fuck, swallow it. All of it, or there’ll be trouble to pay later.” The playfulness of his voice reminds you of Tobi, but the underlying threat awards you a pang of pleasure in your cunt. Moaning around him sends vibrations that rattle his being, at least you’re listening. “Be good and I may just keep you around.”

He throws his head back with a long groan as he keeps you pinned to his pelvis, you can only take it as his warm seed spills down your throat. You didn’t even have a choice to swallow it or not. Shallow strokes accompany soft curses as he grips your hair for purchase, orgasm causing him to shudder above you. He stumbles back a bit, letting you take care of his after shocks. You slowly pump him as you recover your breath, “you taste good.”

Voice already hoarse but you felt he deserved a compliment for fucking your throat raw. He simply laughs, tucking himself back in his pants. The discarded cloak on the ground resumes being draped back over his shoulders. “And don’t forget~ whatever you saw here you don’t speak about!” He’s back to to twirling around in that idiotic high pitched voice you love so much, a stark contrast to what just happened here. He grabs your hand to pull you up from the floor, wiping your knees of any debris in an animated fashion.

“It’s a Tobi and y/n secret, right y/n?” He extends his pinky to you while you stare at him incredulously trying to figure out which one is the real him.

You’ll later come to find out that it was neither.

[zer05trange]

Roaring Sea

000. Prologue

⋆｡°✩ (childe x fem!reader)✩°｡⋆

⋆｡°✩ premise: When Ajax stumbles across a humble bakery with his brother, he has no idea the new fight he'll have to win. Because though the Fatui Harbinger explored the waters of many nations and many different conflicts, he knew nothing about the dangerous sea of relationships.

⋆｡°✩wc: 2.1k

⋆｡°✩content warnings: none for the prologue!

The premature coolness of Snezhnayan autumn is nothing to Ajax and his brother. It’s comforting, in fact. It reminds him of an older, easier time when his soul wasn't tainted by the horrors of this world. Often, Ajax thinks of what it would be like to be normal, to have a normal social life.

If his work could possibly permit it, he would've loved to meet someone with whom he could share his heart. But thanks to his plummet into the abyss, and the years he's worked for the Fatui, he doesn't have a heart that could be given to someone.

The part of his heart that hasn’t faltered is for the love of his family. And that’s why on a more lax week of work, he finds himself walking down a city street with Teucer by his side, glancing at different shops and places that interest his little brother. Their destination was one shop that his brother kept talking about, one that he needed his big brother to try out.

“Big brother! We have to go,” Ajax remembers his brother exclaiming just a few hours earlier. The young boy continued to ramble about a bakery he often frequented, with a kind, yet strong-willed owner that would never fail to make time to converse with his little brother.

Almost the entire stroll to the destination, Teucer spoke of when the owner; the time she slipped Teucer extra pastries free of charge for his other siblings, showing him how to make his favorite items on the menu, or never letting him venture out into the cold without some sort of hot drink to keep him company.

“This one’s it!” He hears Teucer pipe up, stopping in front of the row of shops. It was two stories, fitting with the rest of the line of stores. It was cute, and shockingly modern looking on the outside. He can see the soft illumination on the inside, with a sufficient amount of booths and tables for its size. Teucer goes running into the shop, leaving Ajax to catch up to his little brother. 

By the time he enters the shop, Teucer is already chatting away with someone behind the counter, peering up at the woman who’s smiling down at him. 

“ if you give me a few minutes, your favorite is just about done baking, and it’ll be nice and hot for you, all right?” He hears her say.

Oh, her voice is much younger and brighter than he imagined it would be. He looks up at her, and she was not what he thought she’d look like as well. Young, sophisticated, and positively gorgeous . He straightens up his posture a bit before walking toward the counter. 

“Good evening,” She says, “You look a little like someone I know.”

“Y/N, that’s my big brother! The one that got me that toy I showed you a few days ago!” Teucer responds, jumping up and down with his hands on the counter. 

Y/N. Fitting, Ajax thinks. 

“I have heard about you. The toy maker, yes?” You turn to him and he nods, “I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Tartaglia,” He says in return, “You have a lovely bakery, and the food here looks delicious!”

You laugh, and Tartaglia feels his smile widen ever so slightly as his chest tightens up. He thinks he may be dying.

“Thank you, pick whatever you’d like, please,” You say back to him.

Though you were expecting Teucer to come into your bakery, since he hadn’t been in a few days, you were not expecting to see his striking, tall, and slightly intimidating brother. 

This Tartaglia was an odd one. From what you’ve heard from him he seemed to be a caring, loving, and attentive brother. But you struggled to find a spark in his eyes, and that sent a chill down your spine. 

He’s donning an oxblood colored long sleeve button up and white pants, and you don’t fail to miss the hydro vision on his waistband either. He has the same deep gingered hair, blue eyes, and freckles that his brother has. However, he’s very tall and muscular, with a sharp facial structure adorned with a pretty-boy face. You’d make a bet that he’s nothing but trouble. 

His overall energy is intense, ominous, and foreboding. But he's friendly to you, at least, and his body language was a little more than friendly, but you shrug it off. It’s not every day that a handsome customer takes an interest in you.

The two brothers found their seats a few minutes ago, so you go back to preparing other baked goods and taking care of the few customers who are also in your store. However, you don’t fail to miss the glances Tartaglia keeps making at you. 

He looked awfully familiar, and not just because he was the brother of your most loyal customer, but you couldn’t exactly pinpoint why he was so recognizable. You hear Teucer call your name and you perk your head up to see the little boy calling you over. No one was ordering, so you come from the confines of your counter and over to their booth. Walking over to their area, you see Tartaglia’s eyes go straight from your face, to your hip. You glance down for a moment, wondering what in Tevyat he could be looking at. 

Ah, you think, as your own eyes find the soft glow of your vision. But you shrug that off, you already saw his vision that resides on his waist. 

“Yes, Teucer?” You say as you look down at the younger boy. 

“Did you put something new in your frosting?” He asks, with his eyebrow cocked up.

“I did, actually. I added more sugar as an experiment. Do you like it?” You respond, stunned at how he would’ve figured that out, especially because it was such a miniscule amount of sugar.

“I really do,” He says as he takes another forkful into his mouth. 

“Ms. Y/N,” you hear the other brother, “Are those moon pies?” He points to your display case. 

“They are. I try to have a little something from each of the nations, it’s a good source for variety,” You respond as you look back at your assortments of goods, most of which were taken by earlier customers. 

“And you make all of those?” He asks. You nod your head, letting out a quaint ‘mhm’ with a proud look on your face. 

“Well what I’ve had is delicious so far, I need to come back to you and try everything!” He exclaims, beaming up at you with a wide smile and a wink.  

You chuckle awkwardly before a couple walks into your store, unknowingly becoming your saving grace. You rush behind the counter, feeling his eyes burning into your back as you walk away from him. As you serve the two customers their order, you notice how the two were looking at each other lovingly and how the man pulled out the chair just for the woman to sit down. The way the two treated each other pulled at your heartstrings, though a normal reaction when one witnessed romance, there was a tinge of jealousy behind the feeling as well. 

Sure, you thought about entering the terrifying world of relationships, but you're way too focused on your blossoming business to have yet another stressor on you. But, more often than you’d like, you imagine what it would be like for someone to sweep you off of your feet, to spend time with, and battle the cold of the nation by being bundled up together. You always reason with your thoughts, because it is simply not the wisest thing to do, no matter how bitter the lovey-dovey couples make you. 

You bring yourself back to the present, the couple already left, as have many other customers. It’s getting later in the evening, and you look over at the remaining two customers that reside in their booth. A small smile makes its way to your face when you see how engaged Tartaglia is in his brother’s rambling. It wasn’t often that you saw siblings this close, even in a nation where family is treasured. 

The two look over at you as you finish cleaning up for the night, their mugs empty and their saucers clear, except for a few crumbs. You call them over to your display case, and they follow suit. 

“Pick whatever you’d like,” You sternly demand of them, “They either go to me or my dog, so take however much you want. Maybe some for your other siblings?” 

Teucer’s eyes brighten as he frantically starts studying the case, pointing out a multitude of sweets before you can even reach for the tongs. The entire time, Tartaglia switches his eyes from his brother to you, both in admiration.

You can feel his intimidating gaze and although he's never spoken to you until today, he's taken a liking to you. His energy toward you has been… interesting, to say the least, in the few hours you've known him. But surely it’s completely harmless, and you doubt that any of his weirdly flirty intentions were something he was going to take seriously.

So why not just let it happen?

“It’s getting dark, Teucer. let's get on our way so Ms. Y/N can get home,”  Tartaglia says while his eyes stay focused on your face, a sly smile pulled on his lips. 

“Oh it’s no big deal, my house isn’t too far away,” You point to above the shop, where you reside upstairs, “I’m much more worried about you two getting home before you freeze.”

Tartaglia laughs at that, causing you to look to the side awkwardly. Did you say something that hilarious? You brush it off and hand the two their large bag of assortments. 

“Get home safe, you two,” you say as the two prepare to leave the bakery, “I can’t have my favorite customer and his older brother frozen to death!” 

As they leave, Tartaglia turns around and waves to you with a wink, making you scoff and roll your eyes as you walk toward the door as well. You lock it behind you, and switch the OPEN sign to CLOSED. You watch the two walk off, Teucer still chattering on and on as they disappear down the city.

Walking over to their booth to clean it up, a velvety blue bag catches your eye. It must be a mora pouch, next to a napkin with wording on it. 

You have to teach me how you make such an excellent apple cake! I’ll be back soon, Лапушка.

                     P.S. Thank you for treating Teucer the way you do. 

     —Tartaglia ;)

You scoff and roll your eyes, yet again, this time without him there to see your reaction. What is this guy’s deal? You open the pouch and almost drop it, shocked at what is inside. It has to be thousands of mora, too much to be considered a tip. If this is how he’s trying to harmlessly flirt with you, it’s not working too well. Instead, it freaks you out as to what to do with it. A customer shouldn’t be tipping that much, you think, so you plan on returning it whenever he comes next as he promised.

You eventually finish cleaning up and rush upstairs to your apartment, much like most nights. But tonight, your cheeks feel more heat in them than usual.

As Ajax walks his brother home, his mind fills with more emotion than he's felt in a long time. The fact that you could bring out a little crush within him stunned him. In all his travels, even his life before his corruption, he never felt anything romantic for anyone. 

Why was he yearning to see more of you, though he just met you? Was it the way you took such care for his brother, your kind attitude, though you were slightly austere to his dumb advances? Was it the vision, the sigil that proves you’re a warrior? Or was it your beautiful eyes, your skin, your hair, your lips, your—

No. A Fatui Harbinger should not become weak in the knees for one person. One person he just met an hour ago? Absolutely not. His job called for his time, his body, and his everything. And he doesn’t have the time to become so attached to anyone. 

Though maybe, a microscopic part of his mind was scared. Scared of having feelings for anyone. 

Because though the Fatui Harbinger explored the waters of many nations and many different conflicts, he knew nothing about the roaring sea of relationships.

⋆｡°✩translation: Лапушка— sweetheart, darling

⋆｡°✩a/n: thank you so much for reading! this work is already fully--written so updates should be every few days or weekly!

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— HEARTBEATS AND FLATLINES

SUMMARY : dean was so focused on you he’d blocked everything that was going on in the background of his life as it were white noise. he didn’t realise how much that put you in danger until you went out of your date.

PAIRING : vampire!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : Clayton (OMC) 

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), baker!dean, kidnapping, stalking (it’s only hot if dean does it), angst, unhealthy obsession, yandere!Dean, possessiveness, soft Dean, nerdy/dorky Dean returns, reader isn’t perfect, vague chronic illness, affection, obliviousness, violence, gore?, drugging, and more to come

WORD COUNT : 6.8k

A/N : this will soon fill the square for stockholm syndrome on my @jacklesversebingo card. lmao, it’s like venom/eddie with anne when she got engaged. I listened to MCR's bullets album for the maximum vampire vibes xx

Dean was restless on the days leading up to your date with Clayton. 

He tried not to make it too obvious, his deep disappointment and displeasure with your choice. Well, to him it felt more like heartbreak, an emotion more painful than any of those words could convey. 

He didn’t ever want to avoid you. He didn’t want to push you away by saying something rude about Clayton or doing something that would end up hurting you. He wanted to be near you, always. So he planned ways to avoid the topic instead, but you were entirely indifferent about Clayton and your date with him. He had no idea if you really actually liked the guy, or if you were nervous, or if you thought of him often. 

Dean couldn’t pick up anything from you. Maybe your cheeks heated up a little and your heart raced if you spoke of him, sometimes. But it was almost instantly gone after a few moments, like you just needed to find a baseline. It was not the way a regular person would behave if they ever were attracted to someone in any way. 

He was still a little rattled. Because you hadn’t changed. You still became flustered if he was kind to you. You always spoke to him, spent most of your time with him. It was why he got whiplash from the news of your date. 

Wouldn’t you, now that you considered him a friend, tell him all about Clayton? What would be your reason not to? Why didn’t you gush about the man any chance you had? Why wouldn’t you bring Clayton to the bakery when you came by? Why wasn’t your social media flooded with a few or many posts about him? Why wasn’t it obvious or at least detectable that you liked Clayton?

“Can you believe it?” It was the old guy, Nico, talking to his son Anthony. “Your aunt’s house costs $320 000, I can tell you it’s not what it cost when she bought it.” 

Dean slowly tugged his consciousness out of his reeling head. He focused on the sweet chocolate batter he was whisking at angrily and relaxed his wrist to slowly stop. 

“Do you think he’d be into a single mom? Look at him, he’s so pretty and young.” That was Tamara Stewart. You didn’t like her. So, the answer was no. He was petty like that. 

He picked up the crinkly bag of chocolate chips and dumped a handful into the batter. He tried to distract himself from his devouring thoughts by eavesdropping in on the dozens of conversations his customers were having.

“But Jon sucks, we’re playing ranked and he doesn’t know what he’s doing.” 

Dean gently mixed the chocolate chips with the batter, getting lost in their conversations until he’d flattened the top of the batter and scraped the surrounding area of chocolate until the bowl was clean at the top. 

“Nine murders already, Frank.”

Dean froze and looked up, watching brown eyes sweep over a bright phone screen. He could hear both heart rates rising in fear, their bodies tense as they shared the news. 

“What’s the police doing about it?” 

George continued to scroll through his phone, his brows pressed together in stress and said: “No idea, doesn’t say much.” 

Dean quickly took the glass mixing bowl to quickly pour the batter into the prepared muffin pan. His ears found their point of interest, the conversation between Frank and George. Still, Dean pretended to deeply concentrate on baking and walked to the back to shove the pan inside the oven and remove the croissants and sweet scones he’d made.

“I swear, this is fucking weird.” Frank rubbed his forehead anxiously. “They said it themselves on the first three murders, there wasn’t any blood at the scene. What the hell kind of animal does that? Sounds like a person to me. Probably dumped the body there, killed it somewhere else.” 

Oh, Frank. You don’t know the half of it. 

The following day, Dean was feeling unpleasantly wound up. 

He was hurt over your date with Clayton. 

And now, he was concerned for your safety as the day of your date came closer. You lived all alone in the woods. And there were vampires in town murdering people carelessly, as if they had no fear of getting caught. A beautiful and lovely woman was what you were to him, but to them, you were just a meal.

It didn’t just put you in danger. It put him in danger. Those vamps could easily move on, but a hunter could still follow. What hunter came by could find him, think the worst with the pile of incriminating evidence, and kill him. Or worse, Dean would have to kill the hunter out of self-preservation. 

He moved the murders to the top of his list of priorities because it still was all about you. Keeping you safe was all he could think of. It was like working a case again. Except it was easier because he was local, people knew him, trusted him, and liked him. What was harder was doing it alone, no Sam, no Cas. 

As always, Dean could count on flirting to get information out of police and detectives. A smile here and touch there proved that he still had it. Except this time, there wasn’t much he was interested in receiving because his entire body belonged to you. 

But at least he got a few photos of their files with his phone. It was easy enough to narrow down which monster was doing the killings. Vampires hardly ever changed their habits. But these vamps weren’t sloppy. They fed somewhere else and dumped the bodies randomly in the forest. They probably had different vamps from the nest dispose of the bodies so the locations were skewed and appeared random, but always deep in the forests. 

The victims were random. Three were dressed in running clothes, two wore work clothes, but the other four were dressed casually—killed on a day off or while they were out for fun. There was nothing they had in common, they probably bumped into the vamps, wrong-place-wrong-time type of deal. 

Their clothes were dirty, bloodied, tattered. They had bruises and cuts, but nothing that pointed to something that had human form. And to hide the vampire bite, the necks of the victims were completely torn by teeth. It was lazy work from the police, in Dean’s opinion, to blame mountain lions. Anyone with a brain would wonder how those people ended up in the forest to be attacked in the first place. 

Still, Dean had to find them and put an end to their nest. He wouldn’t stop you from going on your date, even though he’d previously planned on messing with your car so you wouldn’t get there… He hoped you’d be safer with… Clayton, and hoped that whenever he took you, you wouldn’t be left alone to end up as prey to the vampires.

All he had to do now was find the exact location of the nest and put an end to the vampires’ murder spree. 

SATURDAY — morning

You seemed a little more nervous than you were any other day when you entered his bakery. 

You asked him for some tea with honey, and he’d gladly obliged with a nice cup of chamomile tea that warmed your entire body in seconds. 

Dean, despite wanting nothing to do with what will happen on your date, wanted to comfort you. He sat down next to you, something he hardly did, and wrapped his cold hand around yours. You seemed a little surprised by his proximity, but you didn’t appear displeased. Instead, you turned your body towards him and smiled contently.

“I’m not exactly an expert in love, but shouldn’t you be… you know… a little more excited?” He asked, feeling elated that you placed your warm hand above his despite the way his touch made you shiver. You looked into his eyes curiously, tenderly brushing fingertips across his knuckles as you pondered his question with a fiery heat across your cheeks. 

“I sort of am,” you replied measuredly. He was glad he couldn’t physically cry because he would have been sobbing pathetically as a strange little ache settled in his chest. “I’m just trying to take it slow.” You tapped your shoe against his thoughtfully and he turned to touch his leg with yours, a harrowing need to be close to you overpowering any respect for your personal space. 

You instantly snapped out of your train of thought when he did, but your body completely decompressed as your eyes moved up to his face. He felt like you were seeing too much of him. 

“Slow?” He chuckled incredulously. His tone made you smile, but your brow raised, inquiring about his humour. “I think you might be takin’ it :0so slow you’re leaving your emotions behind a little. Most people would’ve been talking about their partner-to-be any chance they got.” The more he spoke, the hotter your face got. At least you finally looked away, appearing somewhat guilty. He slowly pulled his hand away from yours as your heat turned his want into need. “I guess I’m just wondering why you’re so nervous. You… like… the guy, you shouldn’t be this nervous,” he muttered.

He was glad you didn’t think much about the discontented tone of his voice, but you thought again for a few minutes after considering his words. “I’m… always watching people. I don’t need stuff to happen to me to learn something about life. For one, I’ve seen people falling hard and fast for someone... then it all falls apart, they're stupefied by the other person…” You breathed and ended your ramble. “Basically, I’m just trying to be smart and rational, so that I don’t end up in a bad situation.”

Dean blinked at you. 

Suddenly, everything that you were seemed to make sense. It dawned on him that you weren’t trying to be mysterious at all. You were just… calculating, and you applied that same logic to everything in your life. You always took long pauses to think before you spoke, you reacted slowly to his advances to contemplate him and then you made your move—depending on what you thought was appropriate, like a game. You were quiet because you were always observing others, learning from them, and then applying what you learned—to be accepted. You kept people at a distance out of fear and he knew more about that than anyone. 

“I don’t think there’s anything rational about love.” He knew that better than anyone, too. Why was he standing so close to you now? Knowing you could feel his unusually heatless body. Why did he stick around knowing he’d stolen your things and photographed items in your home? Why when you could easily find out that he was stalking you? That he’d broken into your home. That he longed for you and stayed by your side even though you didn’t and probably never would.

“That’s exactly why I’m trying to control it as much as I can. To have something seize me that way, to make me feel like I’m losing control of myself. I don’t think I can handle that kind of thing-”

“So that’s what it’s about? Staying in control?” He wanted to laugh. You and him were more alike than he thought. Not only did he have to restrain himself with his hunger for blood, but he had to wrest his desire to keep you all to himself. 

“Well, I think I’ve been through enough that it makes sense for me to be… controlling,” you argued indignantly. Your pout made him laugh, and his laugh made you smile. Then, you sobered. “I had no control over a lot of things in my childhood, even as I grew older. Even my illness dictated how I lived my life. There’s a lot of things. Abusive friends. My father. I was powerless most of my life. So yeah, I… I guess I’m just afraid to feel that way again. And love, romance, that’s even worse.”

Dean wondered with hope if you were trying to control yourself around him; if your date with Clayton was your way of controlling the way you really felt; if you felt so afraid about how strongly you might want or even need him, and forewished that it might be as much as he needed you. 

Dean reached out to grab your chin and made you look up at him again. You bit your lip and lifted your eyes from his shoulder to look at the greenness of his. He could already sense the blood rising to your face and your hand gently wrapped around his wrist, but you didn’t push him away. 

“When you find the right person, you won’t be afraid to lose yourself. Trust me.” Dean’s stomach somersaulted when your eyes dropped down to his lips and you licked your own. You pushed his hand away to wrap your arms around his neck, and he welcomed your first embrace. He could feel your warm breath by his ear, feel the heat of your body like the surface of the sun kissing his own when he circled his arms around your waist, and your heart thudded heavily, echoing against his empty chest.

SATURDAY — evening

The sun had set, swallowed by the horizon, pushed back by dark-blueness, leaving the moon behind in tall green trees. 

Damp dirt crunched beneath his once-retired boots. The scent of wet earth and rotten wood from the abandoned house the nest was vacating filled him with painful, nostalgic memories. He could smell human blood and salty sweat, he could hear quiet whimpers and panicked breathing. New victims. He focused on that instead.

He knew that facing the nest after the sun had set meant they were all going to be more awake. He could’ve missed work to do it during the day, but then it meant he wouldn’t have seen you. And he would not have been able to be so close to you, to fill his lungs with the delectable scent of everything that was you, to feel the sunniness of your body pressed against yours when you held him in your arms. 

He’d cherish that forever, if it was all you could give him. You wouldn’t ever know, but if you never chose him, he’d hide in the shadows of your life and do absolutely anything for you. Always.

Dean’s fingers twitched at the back door he was about to enter. Was he really just going to burst in there without getting a proper look inside? He cautiously made his way around the house to catch glimpses of the inside of the dark and ruined house. 

He counted the vampires downstairs, four women, two men, and the victims, two men. He couldn’t sense much from the second floor of the house, but he had to make do and act before they could kill the men. Dean could hear one of them, his weakened heartbeat, shallow breaths, not much energy left. The other must have been freshly caught… what a morbid way of putting it. 

He internally hyped himself up, swung his machete in his hand—like riding a bike. Hopefully. The sharpened edge of the machete was coated in a sticky layer of dead man’s blood, which intoxicated him slightly, but it had to be done. 

Now, he entered. 

He was greeted with hisses and bared fangs, and was thrown into decrepit walls and shoddy furniture. He was punched and clawed at, tackled and dragged across sodden and grimey floorboards. He was even bitten pointlessly by them. His skin healed and he stood back up and slashed his way through the modest, abandoned building. His freckled face, grey t-shirt, and old blue flannel spattered with blood. His jeans were covered in mud, old rain, and spilled vampire blood. 

His body thrummed and he felt alive. All those sensations against his skin were magnified and spectacular. He felt almost as alive as you made him feel. Saving people. Hunting things. It was like revisiting an old friend and going over fond memories. The family business, emphasis on the family. 

He’d tried so hard to get out. He did get out. But going back in was like relapsing, going back to a habit that he had always known was bad for him, deep down. 

Finished with the vampires downstairs, Dean hastily untied the men and ordered the more-lucid one to run and not stop until he was safe with the much weaker man. The man, Blue Shirt, had no idea what to think, didn’t argue and struggled to speed up as he carried Yellow Shirt out of the hell hole they had almost died in. 

Dean jogged upstairs and stopped at the woman who smirked at him. As if they knew each other, as if she had been expecting him. Uh-oh? Then two other vampires appeared behind her, bigger than the ones he’d killed downstairs, retracting their fangs with menace. 

“You don’t think we’d all just be waiting here… did you, Dean?” 

“What?” He voiced his bewildered thoughts. 

She took the opportunity to knock the machete out of his hand, as he assessed the two other vampires and attempted to absorb her words. She grabbed him by his neck to smile sweetly, only to smash his face into the window, and effortlessly threw him to—Yogi and Boo Boo. Dean smirked at them as they held him up, because the other guy was short, Boo Boo. That really eased the dull pain in his face. 

Now, he faced her again and she traced his jawline with her cold fingers. At that moment, as he sized her up, he decided she looked like Selene from Underworld. 

“The rest of the nest is out watching that pretty lady you’re obsessed with…” Dean’s face fell, enough to amuse Selene far more than she already was. “What’s her name…? Whatever, good… taste…” She smirked and leaned into Dean, enough for him to feel the dull air of her breath. 

“No,” he grunted, struggling against Yogi and Boo Boo as thoughts of you filled his mind. Thoughts of you going up against horrifying monsters you were not aware of and that you were not prepared to face. Why you? Why would they do that to you? 

“Yes, she’ll probably be as sweet as all that food you feed her.” Selene moved away to look out the shattered window, thoughtfully. “Does she smell good? God, I wouldn’t be able to stand as close to her as you love to be. I’d eat her right up, feel her body go limp as I swallow her warm blood… yummy.” 

Yogi and Boo Boo laughed cruelly, the grins on their faces that Dean peeked at showed their agreement with her words. 

“Shut up,” Dean growled. “Why are you going after her? What do you want with her?” It didn’t make sense for them to go after you. You were everything to him, but to them, you were nobody. Just a human. Unless it was about him. God, why did he have to piss so many monsters off?

Instead of responding to his question, she changed the subject and asked: “Alia saw you hunt coyotes and bobcats? What’s that like?”

Dean did not want to waste time talking about his diet if your life was in danger. It was a rash move to lunge at her, but his mouth connected with her neck and his fangs retracted on instinct, piercing hard flesh and disgusting blood that he sucked until she fell. 

He struggled against Yogi and Boo Boo’s grip, and was eventually torn off of her by them. Not without taking a chunk of her neck, which he spit out along with the blood he’d sucked from her already-dead body. He fought harder this time, for you and managed to get Yogi tangled up in Boo Boo when he shoved them into each other to swipe his machete from the floor as Selene recovered. 

He was grabbed roughly by Yogi or Boo Boo when they’d scrambled back up, but he kept his grip on the machete as he hit the wall one of them had pushed him into. He groaned as he turned, swung the machete, and Yogi’s head thumped loudly on the ground, a spray of his blood covered Dean, Boo Boo, and the wall. 

Selene kicked the back of his knee so he fell to the floor with a loud crack, and he was kneed in the face by fucking Boo Boo, then tackled into him by Selene. God, will it end?

Dean scrambled to get back up and removed her from his body by slamming himself with her on her back into the wall. Her breath rushed out as her body hit the wall painfully loud. Dean had barely managed to stand up straight when Boo Boo began to charge at him. Dean used Boo Boo’s brute strength to knock him into Selene before she could get up properly. 

Dean picked up his weapon again and drove the sharp edge across the back of Boo Boo’s head so he could see his brain slice through the middle with the partially diagonal slice from his machete. Dean kicked part of Boo Boo’s head away as Selene shoved his body off her. She stayed down and sighed defeatedly while glaring up at Dean. 

"It has come to this, the hunted, becoming the hunters to the hunted."(1) Dean quoted smugly, swinging the machete in his hand smoothly. 

“What?” She spat, wiping Boo Boo’s blood from her face. 

“Seriously? All this time on your hands and you don’t pick up a fucking vampire movie?” Dean rolled his eyes at her unwavering glare and sighed, squeezing his fist around the handle of the machete. “Can’t say this was nice, but, uh—it kinda was, actually. Huh.”  

Dean wiped his face with his flannel as he tore through the road on his way to you. Thank fuck you’d let him know where you’d have your date, even though his intentions weren’t exactly pure. If he hadn’t had to go after the nest, he probably would have sat nearby to hear everything you had to say. Maybe he’d even planned to interrupt your date and stir up some jealousy and.. but perhaps it was good the universe prevented that from happening. 

The only problem was that you were in danger. He had no idea what he would say to you once he stood before you at that restaurant-brewery where they made your favourite burgers. What could he say without sounding batshit crazy? Without frightening you to the point of making you want to be far away from him—forever?

That didn’t matter. If you didn’t listen, he'd have to force you, for once, into listening to him so you wouldn’t be in danger. So you wouldn’t die. You were human. You were all he had and even though your life was fleeting, he wanted to make sure you got to live a fulfilling life. With or without him. That’s all that mattered. He’d risk it all for you, in this life or death moment.

Finally, he realised he was close to the bar and parked nearby, in the darkened back alley where there was a woman smoking at the first door, a cat with its head buried in a bucket of popcorn at the garbage, and a homeless man covered in ragged blankets near the end of the alley. 

Dean didn’t bother with looking around for much longer. The vampires wouldn’t be going in after him, unless they were stupid. He just needed to go in and get you out, by his side where you were safer. With someone who could protect you against the horrors of the night. And not Clayton, the kind, safe, and boring mechanic that everyone knew and trusted because he wouldn’t charge extra, or lie, or… who was Dean kidding? Clayton was perfect for you. 

Dean broke the door’s handle and pushed his way through people and the cooks, and the man cleaning. He was glared at, but ignored for the most part as he made his way to the front. As per usual, Dean could find you without looking. He could sense you, the way your heart would beat, the brush of your hands across your skin, and the delicious taste of your body. You stood out like the sun in the sky. 

He found you in a beautiful deep red blouse that made you the centre of the entire bar. Without even intending on it. You were so delicate and beautiful, he had to save you. He couldn’t imagine the large cavity the lack of your existence would create, he always wanted to breathe your air and feel your heat and hear your sweet voice. Even if you didn’t belong to him. 

But soon, it was all smothered by Clayton. Dean could smell the remnants of engine fuel and cologne. Clayton with his blond hair and blue eyes and… ugh. It could be Dean beside you. 

It was as if you could feel him. You shivered and your eyes drifted away from Clayton as he spoke enthusiastically about his nephew. Your soft eyes met Dean’s and you looked surprised, then happy, and finally concerned in an instant. Had Dean not experienced time the way he did, he would not have noticed the rapid change in your expression. 

You sat up straight and Clayton finally shut up to look where you were looking. Dean forced his legs to keep moving, fighting against the tar that was created by his endless amazement at your perfect existence. He’d fight gravity to get closer to you, defying every law to protect you, like the Moon and the Earth. He was meant to be next to you. 

“Dean? Wha-what are you… doing here? Wh-what happened? You’re covered in… blood…” You stepped around the table as you questioned him, with a clean napkin clenched in your fretful fingers to find the source of the blood. You wiped away uselessly, before realising it wasn’t his. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t explain right now, but you’re in danger,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around your arm. He pulled you closer and you allowed him to as he scanned the room for any one suspicious or… undead. There was no one. 

“What are you talking about?” You touched his bicep, his eyes moved back to yours, and his face softened. Your touch felt like warm life being poured back into the empty vessel that was his body. 

“I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault,” he whispered. The unease and fear that shone through your eyes made his stomach clench.

“How? Dean, talk to me,” you attempted to regain his attention by tugging on the hem of his shirt—where he was clean of blood. Instead of replying to you, Dean pulled you closer and began dragging you to where he had entered.

“I just need to get you somewhere safe,” he explained, dragging your willing body into the back of the brewery and out into the alley. 

He heard you call his name multiple times, your hard-to-answer questions, and the apprehension in your tone. He slowed down only because he didn’t want to hurt your arm or cause you to trip and fall. Soon you fell into step with him and stopped bombarding him with questions as you looked around tensely. 

“Hey! What are you doing?” Clayton called after you and Dean, he had your jacket and purse. Dean noticed and you stopped moving, and then you stepped away from Dean. He knew you were considering returning to Clayton as he walked closer, but you stopped a foot away from Dean.

Clayton’s blue eyes, like a clear sky free of pollution, were filled with trepidation. He eyed Dean suspiciously and looked over to you. You were completely relaxed despite the terrifying, bloody state Dean was in and you were standing awfully close, trusting him despite the disorientation. 

“What’s going on here?” Clayton asked, but still returned your items to you. You couldn’t answer because you didn’t know how to. All Dean knew was that you hadn’t shoved him off you because of the urgency in his words, the stress knotting up his muscles, and the pleas in his Spring eyes. Why? Why would you just follow him anywhere without hesitation?

“Clayton, stay inside, this… is between me and her,” Dean warned, taking your hand rather than your arm. He could see the impala about a metre away. You didn’t smile when you turned to Clayton, you were still perplexed by Dean’s pressing behaviour, his determination in getting you out, and his insistence left no room for debate. 

Clayton appeared baffled and disappointed. He didn’t say anything, but Dean knew the judgement in his eyes as they stared at each other, the audacity is what his blue eyes were telling him. 

You squeezed Dean’s hand unintentionally. You didn’t know how to explain yourself to Clayton, but Dean saw the apology in the melted sugar of your eyes, and the deep frown of your oil-tinted lips spoke volumes. Your face told too much. Dean loved you. 

“It’s fine! I’ll… I’m sorry, I’ll call you later,” you promised, moving forward to squeeze Clayton’s arm which was covered by a white long sleeve. 

Watching it, while holding your hand, felt like he’d been thrown into a wall all over again. Breath knocked out, fury and jealousy boiled over him like lava. Dean tugged you away, but you didn’t complain. And you obviously didn’t notice what Dean had, Clayton’s gentleman-ly hand almost lifting to caress your cheek or move away that perfect strand of hair that curled perfectly around your face. 

“Are you sure?” He asked, moving his own long and blond hair away from his face as a biting breeze rolled over him. He ignored Dean completely. 

Part of Dean’s brain thought back to Sam, reminded of that kindness and the goodness in his brother shining through Clayton’s face. It didn't make Dean want to whine and throw you over his shoulder any less. He’d do it to get you out, but you would not approve of that. That’s the only reason he didn’t do it.

Maybe you nodded to Clayton, he wasn’t sure because he was examining a group walking towards you. His urgency returned when the five people approached the three of you and Dean sensed the lack of heat and sound from their bodies. Dean spoke lowly to you: “please, we gotta go now, sweetheart.” 

“Okay, Dean,” you conceded, but your tone sounded an awful lot like you believed he was having a mental breakdown, and you were just playing along until you got him some proper help. 

Dean stepped backwards with your hand in his and muttered a curse under his breath. He wished Clayton had just left you alone, but Dean knew it was too late to get you away.

Clayton glanced back at the group coming closer and started to say: “I’ll be-”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Dean Winchester and his prize pet. You weren’t going to leave without introducing us, were you?” The only woman of the group sneered. Was this Alia? Dean forced you behind him. He felt your hands gripping the back of his shirt and your face’s heat beside his bicep when you attempted to peek over his body. 

Clayton saw the way Dean gazed alarmingly at the woman and her group, and stumbled away to stand beside Dean. Dean could hear the rise in his heartbeat and feel the anxious heat that radiated from him. Those vampires could definitely smell the fear on him. 

“Pet?” You murmured to yourself with a pout.

“What do you want?” Dean’s go-to was to find humour in any situation like this one, but he couldn’t focus on distracting the group of vampires since your heartbeat began to rise and your hand clenched his shirt tighter. 

“Straight to the point then, yeah?” She asked, chuckling and eyeing you behind him, then looked at Clayton with indifference. “You killed a lot of people, Dean—” He felt your grip loosen up on his shirt and your breath puffed against his arm. “—You didn’t think we’d just forget about all of it and let you get away with it, did you?” 

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Dean asserted. He scoffed, his lip twitched into a smirk on instinct and she glared at him. “I don’t even know you.”

“Of course not,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “Remember Boris? We were part of his nest. Robert recruited us. You killed him, too, remember?” Dean held her gaze. Why would he feel guilty about killing vampires? “Because of you, we almost couldn’t survive. After you left, more hunters came. Those of us who made it out, those of us who survived you, they were hunted and killed. And then we had to learn to survive on our own.” She stepped closer and Dean backed up into you, your warm hands pressed into his back. “It was hard… I created my own family. And here we are. Here you are.”

She looked at you, peeked over his body where you were hiding. Alia—Dean was pretty sure she who Selene was talking about—seemed to consider her next move before speaking. “You killed them, didn’t you? Did you really think you could just move on with your life like nothing ever happened? And come here to continue killing?” Dean narrowed his eyes at her and her deep brown eyes glared at him, a smirk grew on her red lips. 

Dean needed to get back to the impala, to get the dead man’s blood, to pick up a weapon he could use to fight them off. You’d also be safe inside the Impala. He’d even tell you to go far away, to keep yourself alive until he could find you again. 

Clayton moved beside Dean, looking up into his blood smeared face, slightly shaken. “Is it true? Are you the one killing these people?”

“What?” Dean snapped out of his head, looking at Clayton. You whispered Dean’s name, as a question. “The police said they were animal attacks.” Dean didn’t care about what Clayton thought, but what you thought about him definitely mattered. He also knew it didn’t look very good for him to be covered in blood.

“Okay, then who’s blood are you covered in?” Your voice shook as you asked. Dean sneaked a glance at Alia and her friends. The cruel sneer on her face made it clear to him that she’d intended on pinning the deaths on him—she wanted you to think that. 

He couldn’t explain himself to you. Vampires. Monsters. Why would you believe any of that? You’d just think he’s batshit crazy. You’d be afraid of him. 

“You need to get in my car and stay inside,” he ordered, turning you with his hands firmly on your shoulder. Your mouth opened, ready to argue, and your wide eyes searched his face with hope and fear. Two of the most painful things he’d ever seen piercing the dead heart he thought could feel nothing. 

“Don’t touch her,” Clayton warned, pressing his hand into Dean’s shoulder. Dean growled and shoved him away. 

“Dean! Stop!” You shouted, watching helplessly as Clayton stumbled to the ground. Alia laughed carelessly. “Dean, what the hell is going on?” You asked, ignoring everything that was going on around you to gaze into Dean’s eyes. Your firm tone shook Dean, you usually spoke to him so gently and bashfully. 

“Tell her, Dean,” Alia was suddenly closer, “tell her what you are.” 

“No,” Dean barked at Alia and pulled out the knife he had in his jeans dipped in dead man’s blood and plunged it into her chest while she was busy gloating. You gasped and covered your mouth, stumbling away from Dean and the group of men that suddenly began advancing with menacing snarls.

Alia pulled the knife out of her chest with a scoff and a glare in Dean’s direction. “Dead man’s blood,” she spat.

“Leave her out of this, she doesn’t know anything,” Dean pleaded uselessly. Still, he placed himself in front of you, hoping to get closer to the impala now that his only weapon was in Alia’s hands. 

“You have nothing left, Dean. You’re all alone. Killing her is the only way I can really deal damage to you.” She lunged forward and slashed the knife across his stomach before he could dodge it properly. Maybe he was a little rusty. 

“Dean!” You cried, instantly moving to his side to touch the sliced skin of his abdomen, but it was healing instantly. He turned to you as he hissed and you backed away from him, thrown by the way he snarled at Alia with his fangs bared. 

Alia turned weak and fell to her knees. The five men around her hesitated, looking from Alia to Dean. But Dean didn't have the luxury to demur, so he turned around and grabbed you to push you towards the Impala. 

He didn’t care anymore. You’d seen Alia survive a stab to the heart. You saw his wound heal. You saw his… teeth. His monstrous face. And you were too shocked to move. You just blinked and stared at Dean as he unlocked the Impala to inhumanly retrieve his machete from the passenger seat. 

“Leave him, Ray, it’s her he cares about,” Alia rasped weakly. Dean turned to see the youngest of the group ready to lunge as Clayton stood, trying to wipe blood away from his palms. 

Dean turned back to you and gave you a small shake. You blinked at him and tensed when you focused on him. “Get. In.” He demanded, placing the keys in your palm. 

It actually turned out better than he thought. 

Sure, his clothes were torn up from bites and the knife they were attempting to use between the five of them, but Dean knew he could take the five of them. He could’ve done it as a human. He could definitely do it as a vampire. 

He was covered in more blood than before. His hair was sticky with it and so was his skin, spattered and smeared all over his face. 

Disposing of five bodies was harder to do than he was used to. Usually, he’d have killed them out in those creepy lairs miles away from people where he could burn them to ash. He had Sam to help. This time, he’d have to leave them in garbage bags, in the large roll off containers from the restaurant. People turned the other way when they saw them fighting, probably assuming it was a regular old, drunken fist fight. 

He’d go back for the bodies once he got you and Clayton out of there. At some point, one of the vampires knocked him out cold. So Clayton was asleep in the backseat and you were still shaking in the passenger seat, staring dead ahead. 

This was so not how he pictured things going with you. Now, you were traumatised. You were probably scared of him, even if he’d saved you. He couldn’t blame you. He was a vampire and you’d just witnessed him easily slaughter five people. Only someone with experience in killing could manage winning a fight when they were outnumbered. 

After dropping Clayton unceremoniously into his couch, Dean ran back to the Impala and drove you to his place. He was surprised you’d allowed him to carry you all the way into his living room. And that you didn’t complain about him taking you to his home instead of yours. 

He hung your jacket and purse on the hooks beside the door and worriedly sat on his knees in front of you. He whispered your name and you lifted your eyes to his. You bit your lip. “Are you afraid of me?” 

You shook your head, and murmured, “I’m just… confused and… I don’t know…” 

“I’m here… do you wanna get cleaned up?” Dean took your hands cautiously, brushing his thumbs over your soft skin, over your knuckles. You shook your head, ‘no’. “Want to sleep?” You shook your head again, more vehemently. He smiled softly, a touch of sadness pooling in his stomach. “Is there anything you need? Anything I can get you or do for you?” 

“Dean,” your voice was a little hoarse. He hummed softly. “What the hell… just happened? I mean… how… wh- I can’t believe that…” You trailed off, falling back into the couch exhaustedly, and stared up at the ceiling as you attempted to wrap your head around what occurred. 

“I’m gonna make you some tea so you can calm down, and then we can talk.” Dean released your hands as he moved away from you. Your soft voice calling his name stopped him before he could turn away from you. 

“Will you tell me the truth?”

“Always.”

(1) Underworld: Endless War

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[sheikfangirl]

Since you're the Queen of Puppet Zelda, what are your thoughts on these possible explanations for her level of autonomy?

Is Puppet Zelda merely made of Gloom and acts as a physical extension of Gannondorf himself so he has a set of eyes, ears, and hands that can travel and exert influence outside of his perch in the Depths, but as a higher quality puppet/projection (and therefore more taxing on his power to maintain) than the Gloom Hands and Phantom Gannons? Or is she a separate being entirely, created by him, but given her own agency, mind, and will to make her own decisions, in so far as she's still a slave to doing Gannondorf's bidding? She doesn't need constant effort on his part to control or exist, but would have probably cost him a chunk of his power upfront to create.

Could she be something else?

First, let's rectify one thing: I am NOT the Queen of Puppet Zelda. Puppet Zelda IS MY QUEEN. (But thanks for the compliment, I am blushing over here 🤭)

Secondly, thank you so much for your interest in my HC. I will happily share my thoughts on this criminally underused character that has drama written all over. This is an overview okay because I feel I could write a freakin thesis paper on Puppet Zelda 

Quick note: I am not pretending to be right or to have the absolute truth. This is my headcanon, the backstory in the back of my mind when I draw my Puppet Zelda art.

All headcanons are valid, games are interactive media, and the relationship and connections one has with a game are personal.

As you might know, English is not my first language and  visual support helps me explain things... so I made a graphic. I hope this will help understand my take of this character and why I love her so much🤣🤷‍♀️

In a nutshell:

I think Puppet Zelda is an independent minion created by Ganondorf using his magic powers. He created a shell in Zelda's image from 10 000 years ago to do his bidding and re-used her 10 000 years later to distract Link to buy himself the time to regenerate to full power.

Exhibit A: Ganondorf's Magic

If Ganondorf can spawn a whole list of monsters and gloom hands, he created Puppet Zelda too. The monsters are not continually controlled by Ganondorf, right? They do his bidding, they do what they were "programmed & designed" for, we might even say. I think it's the same for Puppet Zelda. But she is definitely a more defined and complex creation.

Exhibit B: The Hot henchwoman trope

I am not gonna lie: This is one of my very favorite tropes.... EVER! I always fall for the hot henchwomen. Ganon's quote from the glorious Sanctum scene during  the "Crisis at Hyrule Castle" scene makes me absolutely think she is indeed autonomous. "Did my puppet distract you?" Ganondorf asks Link in that chilling and subtext filled scene.

Puppet Zelda had one objective: To distract Link.

Ganon was busy regenerating. Having to control or act through someone would've been too power consuming. I don't buy it's a manifestation of him. AT ALL. so...yeah. hot henchwoman trope. Also, I'm a lesbian and I have no interest whatsoever in Ganondorf.

...HOT HENCHWOMAN TROPE SUPREMACY!! Yep. Fanservice for me.

Exhibit C: Real Zelda's Angst

This is where it's getting twistingly FUN.

This is an HC I assimilated like a borg from my ZHS buddy @kazraza  Her theory is so ***** angsty and delicious and I love it! 

At the time of King Rauru and Queen Sonia, Ganondorf created a pawn with Zelda's appearance so that it could get close to them and attack.

Then, in order to distract Link 10 000 years later, Ganondorf had to "refine" his weapon. He needed "data and real Zelda knowledge" uploaded into Puppet Zelda to ensure her credibility and the success of her mission. He wanted to make sure she could distract Link and trick him. 

And where did all this personal knowledge of Real Zelda's innermost intimate thoughts and insecurities come from, you may ask?

Well from the real Zelda herself of course!!

But when and where was this data collected?

We believe all of Zelda's Angst was leached directly from her during her 100 years mystic battle containing Calamity Ganon in this Malice Cocoon in Breath of the Wild. *GASP* Puppet Zelda was there all along in Breath of the Wild....absorbing all of Zelda's angst!!!

This is why everyone was confused and tricked by Puppet Zelda in TotK. This is why Puppet Zelda asks Link if he remembers their time at Hyrule Castle: she has Zelda's pre-calamity memories and this why Link is so tortured in my art! She can REALLY mess with him big time. I really like to think there is a part of real Zelda inside Puppet Zelda. Her dark side: Her anger, her cockiness, her jealousy, her selfishness... her desire. 

She is also kind of Zelda's answer to Dark Link.

Alright I wrote enough for tonight. To whoever took precious minutes of their lives to read this well...thank you! I am now moving on with my life too 🤣

For more HC about Puppet Zelda, her powers and influences, this should be all covered in future art

(i hope)

Cheers!! And glory to Puppet Zelda ✋

[novaursa]

The Price of Fire (14)

- Summary: In the shadows of the Red Keep, the daughter of the Mad King, Princess Y/N Targaryen, finds herself caught between duty, love, and survival. As her father’s madness deepens and political intrigue swirls, she seeks solace in a forbidden romance with her sworn protector, Ser Arthur Dayne. With King Aerys plotting to use her as a pawn and her brother Rhaegar maneuvering to shield her from their father’s grasp, Y/N must navigate a web of deceit and desire. As tensions rise, secrets ignite into fierce passion and dangerous alliances, where the wrong move could mean the end of them all.

- Paring: targ!reader/Arthur Dayne

- Note: For all the parts check out my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+ (Aerys is warning on his own)

- Word count: 6 000+

- Previous part: 13

- Next part: 15

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @lightdragonrayne @onlyrealjoy @hajmola-vs-aamchaska

(unspecified time jump)

The chamber in the Red Keep is thick with the scent of smoke and burning pitch, though no fires are lit. The atmosphere itself feels heavy, oppressive, as though the very walls remember the echoes of past screams. King Aerys sits upon the Iron Throne, his disheveled silver hair cascading in knotted waves around his shoulders now. His eyes blaze with an intensity that is neither entirely sane nor completely mad, but rather somewhere in between, a dangerous twilight that keeps those in his presence on edge in these past months. His once-proud stature has withered under the weight of his paranoia, his frame thinned even more beneath the extravagant robes that drape from his bony shoulders.

"Lord Qarlton Chelsted," Aerys’s voice crackles, sharp as a whip as he stares down at his new Hand, who stands at the base of the Iron Throne. The man bows deeply, though his face betrays a hint of unease. "Speak."

"Sire, I come with news from the battlefield," Chelsted says, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. "The battle is over. Lord Jon Connington has fallen... slain by Rhaegar himself."

Aerys does not immediately respond. His long, twisted fingers grip the armrests of the Iron Throne, the blades biting into his skin as if the throne itself hungered for blood. The king tilts his head slightly, his lips twitching in a smile that holds no warmth. The madness in his gaze flickers, like wildfire waiting to consume.

"Jon Connington, my Hand... slain by my treacherous son?" Aerys murmurs, his voice slow, as though tasting the words. He lingers on the word treacherous, as though it holds special meaning to him.

"Aye, Your Grace," Chelsted replies, straightening. "But I swear to serve you loyally. I will be a more—"

"Yes, yes," Aerys waves a hand dismissively, as though Chelsted’s life were a mere afterthought. His attention is no longer on the fallen Hand or the war outside the Red Keep’s walls. His thoughts have wandered somewhere far darker. His eyes gleam, burning with a different kind of fire now. "But what of, Y/N, my daughter?"

A palpable tension fills the room at the mention of you, the daughter of the Mad King. Terrax, who now rests behind the Iron Throne, shifts his great bulk, his tail thumping once against the floor. His head lifts, nostrils flaring as if even at the sound of your name, he senses your absence. The beast's eyes, much like Aerys's, are alight with something primal.

Varys steps forward from the shadows, his movements so fluid and quiet that one could almost forget he was in the room. "Your Grace," the spymaster says in his usual soft, syrupy tone, "there are whispers. Whispers that suggest the princess is in Dorne. Hidden away, though there is little more I can say at this time."

Aerys's eyes narrow, his lips curling back to reveal the yellowed teeth of a serpent about to strike. "In Dorne? My daughter... stolen... by that traitorous son of mine?" His voice rises with each word, his temper flaring, but there is something more, something darker lacing his anger. An obsession that claws at his mind, unrelenting. "She belongs to me!"

Terrax lets out a low growl, a rumble that vibrates through the stone of the throne room, and Aerys's attention shifts to the dragon, a deranged smile curling his lips once more. "Yes, my son... yes. She belongs to us. The mother of dragons. The queen that was promised."

Tywin Lannister stands quietly, his sharp eyes watching the scene unfold. His face betrays nothing, but there’s a calculating gleam there, as if measuring the madness in Aerys’s words and how best to maneuver it. His gaze flickers to Jaime, standing silent as a sentinel by the door. Their eyes meet for a brief moment, and though no words are exchanged, the tension between father and son is tangible. Jaime’s grip tightens on the hilt of his sword, the Kingsguard armor feeling heavier on his shoulders with every breath the king takes.

"My king," Varys interjects smoothly, bringing the king's attention back. "Dorne may yet harbor the princess, but with patience, we will learn more. Our spies are ever vigilant. The people of Dorne, they are not ones to act without reason. Perhaps she is kept there for now, hidden in shadow, waiting. But rest assured, I will know when the time comes."

Aerys leans back into the Iron Throne, the metal spikes and edges digging into his flesh, though he seems not to notice—or perhaps, he enjoys the pain now. His fingers trace one of the jagged edges of the throne, slicing open his finger. A thin line of blood drips down his hand, unnoticed by all but Varys, who watches with cool, calculating eyes.

"She will come back to me," Aerys says, his voice soft now, almost a whisper. "She will come to her dragon. We will be whole again. All of them will burn for this betrayal... all of them."

His words linger in the air, a promise of fire and blood, and Terrax lowers his head, resting it near Aerys's feet, as though the great beast himself understood. As though the dragon, too, awaited the day he would burn the world for his king.

Tywin shifts slightly, his lips pressing together into a thin line. Jaime, still at his post, cannot help but glance at the king, wondering how much longer the madness will be contained—if it ever truly could be.

The room falls silent once more, save for the occasional creak of the Iron Throne and the slow, rhythmic breathing of Terrax behind it.

The winds off the Torrentine River were warm, carrying the scent of salt and stone as they whipped across the walls of Starfall. Perched on the cliffs overlooking the river’s mouth, the ancient castle stood like a sentinel, its pale stone towers catching the light of the midday sun. Below, the river sparkled in shades of silver and blue as it met the Sunset Sea beyond. Starfall’s walls were high, built with the pale stone that gave the castle its name, and they seemed to gleam like starlight even in the brightness of day.

You stood on the edge of the courtyard, watching Arthur Dayne train, the weight of your worries momentarily lifting. His legendary sword, Dawn, gleamed in his hand, the pale blade flashing as it moved through the air with impossible grace. Arthur’s movements were fluid, almost like a dance, each swing of the sword a testament to his mastery. It was mesmerizing, watching him—how effortlessly he wielded the blade that had felled countless foes.

And when Arthur was near, the voices in your head—the dark whispers, the warnings—always fell silent. It was as though his presence calmed something deep within you, a stillness where before there was only unrest.

Your gaze trailed from his sword to his face. The focus in his violet eyes, the way the sun glinted off his sweat-slicked brow, and the steady rise and fall of his chest as he trained all made your heart ache. He was beautiful in his strength, in his quiet determination. And he was yours, in a way that only the two of you understood. His loyalty, his affection—they were unshakable, even in these turbulent times.

When he finished, Arthur wiped the sweat from his brow and turned to you, his features softening as he caught your gaze. He approached, the familiar warmth of his presence like a shield against the world outside. "You’ve been watching me for some time, haven’t you?" His voice was low, teasing, but filled with affection.

You smiled, feeling lighter just by his closeness. "It’s hard not to when you’re so captivating," you replied, stepping closer, the fabric of your dress rustling against the stone as you moved. "Though I wonder," you added, glancing at the sword in his hand, "is it true what they say? That Dawn was forged from the heart of a fallen star?"

Arthur glanced down at the sword, a small, thoughtful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "That is the legend," he said, his voice steady and quiet, the way it always was when he spoke of something deeply meaningful. "They say that long ago, a star fell from the sky, and from the metal within it, the first Dayne forged this sword. Dawn has been passed down through my family for generations, always given to the knight deemed worthy to bear it."

He paused, the tip of the sword resting lightly against the stone at his feet as he looked back at you. "But it is not the sword that makes the knight. It is the honor with which it is wielded."

You stepped closer, your fingers brushing lightly against his arm. "You carry both with such grace, Arthur. I've never seen anything or anyone like you."

His gaze softened, and he reached out, cupping your face with his hand, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. The touch was intimate, familiar, but there was always something more, something deeper between you both. His thumb traced your skin as though trying to memorize every part of you, as if this moment was fragile, fleeting.

"I only wish I could shield you from all of it," he murmured, his voice low, filled with emotion. "You’ve been through so much. Your father... the rebellion... everything. I hate that I can't keep you safe from it all."

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch, savoring the rare peace that his presence brought you. "When I'm with you, the world feels... quieter," you admitted, your voice a whisper. "Everything falls away, and it’s just us. Even the voices—" you hesitated, glancing up at him, "they go silent as before."

Arthur’s expression tightened, the concern clear in his eyes. "The voices... they're still there, even now after all these months?"

You nodded slowly. "Always. Dark dreams, dark warnings. But when you’re here, it’s as though they can’t reach me."

He drew you into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I’ll always be here for you, Y/N." His words were a quiet vow, one that you knew he meant with every fiber of his being.

The two of you stood there for a moment, the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs below blending with the soft breeze. Starfall, for all its ancient grandeur, was peaceful in a way King’s Landing never could be. Its history, though steeped in blood and legend, seemed to settle like a protective blanket over its halls. Here, among the high towers and old stones, it was easy to believe that the world beyond couldn’t touch you.

"Starfall has always felt... different," you mused, resting your head against Arthur’s chest as his arms wrapped around you. "There’s a sense of peace here. Like it's somehow separate from the rest of the realm."

Arthur chuckled softly. "It’s the land of my ancestors. This place has stood for thousands of years. The Daynes have always been here, and the sword..." he paused, tilting his head slightly, "well, perhaps it does carry a bit of that fallen star’s magic. I’ve always felt it too, though I think it has more to do with you."

You lifted your head to look at him, your heart swelling at his words. "Me?"

He nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, you. There’s something about you, Y/N, something... otherworldly. You have a strength that no one else can see. And I’m drawn to it, just like I’m drawn to you."

The sincerity in his eyes made your breath catch, and for a moment, all the fears, the dark dreams, the war—none of it mattered. All that mattered was Arthur, his arms around you, and the sense of safety he gave you.

"I love you," you whispered, the words slipping out as naturally as breathing. You didn’t say them often, not because they weren’t true, but because they felt too precious, too fragile to speak aloud too often.

Arthur smiled, leaning down to kiss you softly, his lips brushing against yours in a way that was both tender and full of promise. "And I love you, more than you’ll ever know."

The air in the Stormlands was thick with the scent of rain and the promise of battle. The tent’s flaps fluttered softly in the breeze, the canvas walls stained with the grime of weeks of warfare. Outside, the campfires flickered in the dusk, casting long shadows across the muddy ground. The sounds of soldiers preparing for the night echoed faintly—clanking armor, sharpening swords, quiet conversations—but within the tent, the atmosphere was tense, a weight pressing down on the men inside.

Rhaegar Targaryen stood by the map-strewn table, his silver hair falling loosely over his shoulders. His violet eyes were focused, studying the battle lines marked out before him. Robert Baratheon’s forces held the Stormlands with grim determination, their defenses solid despite the prince’s best efforts to break through. The rebellion had grown larger, fiercer than he’d expected, and the weight of it bore down on him like a chain. His fingers traced the inked lines on the map as though they held the answers he sought.

The flap of the tent rustled, and Rhaegar looked up to see Eddard Stark step inside, his face somber, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders. The young Stark lord was quieter than most men Rhaegar had fought alongside, but there was a strength in his silence, a kind of unyielding resolve that Rhaegar had come to respect.

"My prince," Eddard said, bowing his head slightly as he approached. "A raven arrived, bearing a message. Varys sent it."

Rhaegar’s heart quickened at the mention of Varys. The spymaster had been his key ally, working behind the scenes to manipulate Aerys’s growing paranoia and keep the Mad King’s attention diverted from his sister. He took the sealed parchment from Eddard’s hand and broke the wax with swift, deliberate motions.

The message was brief, written in Varys’s careful, looping hand:

"Aerys’s eyes have turned to Dorne. All goes as planned."

Rhaegar’s eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened. He crumpled the message in his fist and tossed it into the fire pit beside the table. The flames devoured the parchment in moments, leaving only ash behind.

"Varys moves the pieces well," Rhaegar murmured, his voice low, more to himself than to Eddard. He stared into the flames for a moment, watching them dance before he turned to face the Stark lord fully. "But no matter how well the game is played, some pieces can’t be moved easily. And I wonder, Eddard, if Robert is one of those pieces."

Eddard’s face remained impassive, but his brow furrowed slightly as he shook his head. "Robert is... stubborn, my prince. Once he sets his mind on something, it’s hard to pull him away from it. Especially now, with war upon us. His blood is up, and all he sees is victory."

Rhaegar sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as weariness settled in his bones. "He’s promised to your sister, is he not? Lyanna. Can’t you talk some sense into him? Remind him what’s at stake? This isn’t just about war. It’s about the future. The realm."

Eddard’s eyes darkened, and a shadow passed over his expression. "Robert loves Lyanna, or at least the idea of her. But this war... it’s no longer just about love or promises. Robert hates the king, as do many. And while he may hate Aerys, he does not hate your sister." Eddard paused, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. "The people... they love her. Many speak of the princess with admiration, more than they speak of the king himself. And there are many lords, my prince, who would see her on the throne. Many more who would see themselves beside her."

Rhaegar’s eyes flashed with a brief, irritated gleam. He straightened, his shoulders tense. "I know how much my sister is loved," he said, his voice carrying a hint of frustration. "But I’m not doing this to place her as some prize to be won by ambitious lords. She is not to be another man’s conquest, another ladder for them to climb to power. She’s my blood. And I would see her safe, not used."

Eddard nodded, understanding the conflict in Rhaegar’s heart. "I understand, my prince," he said quietly. "Truly, I do. My father and brother... they loved her too, in their way. They died by dragonfire because of it."

Rhaegar’s expression softened slightly at the mention of Rickard and Brandon Stark, their tragic deaths by the hands of his mad father a stain upon the Targaryen name. "Your father and brother were good men. They died protecting my sister’s honor after Aerys made his intentions clear. I wish their fates had been different."

Eddard’s jaw tightened, and a flash of pain crossed his face. "They stayed longer in the capital than they should have," he said, his voice thick with grief and regret. "Had they left sooner... perhaps they wouldn’t have been there when Aerys declared he would take your sister as his second wife. They might have lived, and the rebellion might have never begun."

Rhaegar was silent for a long moment, his mind turning over the weight of Eddard’s words. The rebellion had been sparked by many things, but Aerys’s obsession with you—his declaration that you, his daughter, would be his bride—had been the breaking point. It was a madness that had consumed the king, and the cost had been paid in fire and blood.

Rhaegar moved toward the edge of the tent, looking out across the camp where his men gathered around their fires. "My father’s madness has cast a long shadow over all of us," he said quietly. "But I won’t let it destroy my sister, or the realm. If I must fight, I will fight for her—for her future."

Eddard stepped closer, his presence solid and reassuring, even in the face of so much uncertainty. "You have allies, my prince," he said firmly. "Men who believe in your cause. Robert may be headstrong, but there are others who will listen. The princess has more support than you know."

Rhaegar’s gaze shifted back to Eddard, a glimmer of determination in his eyes. "Let’s hope that support is enough," he said softly. "Because if it’s not, this war will consume everything."

The two men stood in silence for a long moment, the weight of their shared burden pressing down on them like the gathering storm outside. Another war was coming, and with it, the fate of the realm hung in the balance.

The air in Starfall was warm and fragrant, the scent of blooming jasmine and orange blossoms wafting through the castle’s sunlit courtyards. It was a rare day of peace, and you wandered the familiar paths alone, seeking a brief respite from the weight that had been pressing on you since your escape from King’s Landing. Terrax’s absence weighed heavily on you, a constant reminder of the danger that still lingered in the capital. The bond you shared with your dragon was strong, but with him so far away, you felt a deep emptiness, a loss that you couldn’t shake.

As you rounded a corner, your steps faltered. By the fountain in the courtyard, Ashara Dayne was speaking with a woman you recognized immediately. Her long, dark curls cascaded over her shoulders, her sun-kissed skin glowing in the midday light. She was dressed in the loose, flowing garments of the Dornish, her eyes as sharp as the smiles she so often wore.

Ellaria Sand. Oberyn Martell’s paramour.

The woman’s presence here surprised you, though perhaps it shouldn’t have. Dorne had long been a haven for those who defied convention, and Starfall itself was no stranger to intrigue. Still, the sight of Ellaria made your heart quicken with a sense of unease, even as you tried to push it down. What could she want here?

Ellaria caught your gaze before you could slip away. Her lips curled into a playful smile, and her dark eyes sparkled with something that felt like curiosity. "Ah, the dragon princess herself," she called out, her voice rich with the accent of Dorne. "I’ve heard many tales of you, Y/N. Intriguing things, from Oberyn."

Ashara glanced over her shoulder, her expression softening as she saw you approach. She gestured for you to join them. "Y/N," she said warmly. "Come, we were just speaking about you."

You hesitated for a moment, but then forced yourself forward, stepping into the courtyard. The sunlight danced on the surface of the fountain’s water, casting a shimmering light across the smooth stone beneath your feet.

Ellaria smiled, her gaze sweeping over you with clear interest. "I must admit, I was eager to meet you. The stories don’t do you justice."

You forced a polite smile, though you felt the slight shift in the air as something stirred within your mind. A voice, soft at first but growing stronger, whispered faintly in the back of your thoughts: “Stop doing that. Mother shan't be too pleased. None too pleased.”

You blinked, trying to shake the strange sensation. The voice had been absent for so long, quelled in Arthur’s presence, but now it returned, a dark whisper threading through your thoughts like an unwanted guest.

"I hope the stories were flattering," you said, keeping your voice steady as you took a seat beside them. You glanced briefly at Ashara, her serene expression betraying no sign of concern, though she had always been difficult to read.

"Flattering?" Ellaria’s eyes gleamed with mischief. "Some were, but others were... more intriguing than flattering. Oberyn speaks of you with a kind of admiration I’ve rarely heard from him. A Targaryen princess without her dragon at her side, living in secret in the south. It’s the stuff of legends, no?"

Ashara chuckled softly, brushing a stray lock of her dark hair behind her ear. "Oberyn always did have a taste for the dramatic."

Ellaria nodded, her smile widening. "True enough. But I see now that the stories pale in comparison to reality. The princess has a fire all her own."

The words, though kind, seemed to carry a weight to them, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that Ellaria was assessing you, as though she were looking beyond your face, beyond your title, to something deeper. You shifted slightly, feeling the heat of the sun on your skin but also the cold grip of the voice still echoing in your mind.

"Mother shan't be too pleased. You know better."

Your stomach twisted, and for a moment, the courtyard seemed to dim. You glanced around, expecting to see someone lurking in the shadows, but there was nothing. Just the voice. Just the quiet reminder of something darker within you.

"Tell me, princess," Ellaria’s voice cut through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present. "What is it like, truly, to have a dragon? Oberyn says Terrax is unlike any other, and that your bond is... unique."

Your heart sank at the mention of Terrax. You could feel the distance between you, like a severed thread. He was still in King’s Landing, still under your father’s control, and it pained you every moment you were apart from him. "It’s difficult to describe," you said, your voice quieter now. "It’s... it feels as though he’s a part of me. More than just a creature, more than just a dragon. When we’re together, I feel his thoughts, his emotions. He feels mine. It’s... comforting. But now..."

Ashara’s gaze softened as she listened, but Ellaria’s eyes gleamed with interest. "A bond that deep? It’s no wonder the stories are so grand. The Dornish respect power, and I think they would envy such a bond."

"They envy, they watch, they want. But it’s not theirs. It never will be." The voice was louder now, more insistent, its words laced with an edge that made your skin prickle. “None too pleased, Mother.”

You flinched slightly, your hand gripping the edge of the stone bench beneath you as you tried to shake the voice free. Not now. Not here.

Ellaria must have noticed the flicker of discomfort, for her smile softened, and she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "You seem... troubled, princess. Is everything well?"

You forced a nod, though you knew it was a lie. "It’s nothing. Just... memories. There’s been much to remember lately."

Ellaria’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, as if she sensed there was more you weren’t saying, but she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she leaned back slightly, her demeanor returning to its usual playful charm. "Well, memories are heavy things. But you’re safe here, princess. Safe and among friends."

You managed a small smile, though the words rang hollow in your ears. You were safe in Starfall, but the voices, the dreams—they were always with you. And Ellaria’s words, though kind, couldn’t banish the darkness that lingered at the edges of your thoughts.

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics—Dorne, Oberyn’s exploits, the happenings in the wider world—you forced yourself to focus, to stay present. But all the while, the voice in your head whispered, a constant, unrelenting reminder that something larger loomed on the horizon, something you could not yet see.

"Mother shan't be too pleased."

The nightmare begins in darkness, as it always does. It pulls you in slowly, insidiously, until you’re no longer aware of what is real and what is not. This time, though, the shadows are thicker, heavier, like a weight pressing against your chest. It’s not just the darkness that surrounds you but the stench of death—rotting flesh, blood, smoke. You can see them now, shapes in the distance, hazy at first, but then they become clear.

Bodies.

Men and dragons alike, lying in twisted, grotesque forms, as if struck down mid-battle, their limbs contorted in unnatural ways. The dragons’ once-magnificent scales are dull, lifeless, their wings tattered and blackened. The ground beneath you is slick with blood, so much blood that it feels as though the earth itself is drowning in it.

You try to move, but your legs won’t obey. You’re rooted to the spot, forced to watch the carnage unfold around you. The sky overhead is red, as though the sun itself has bled out into the heavens, casting everything in a sickening light. The air is filled with the moans of the dying, the cries of the defeated.

And then, a voice. It cuts through the chaos, sharp and cruel, echoing in your head like a distant thunderclap.

"All are blind whose eyes are closed."

The words make no sense, yet they send a shiver down your spine. You try to block them out, but they grow louder, reverberating inside your skull, rattling your very bones. More voices join in, overlapping, like a chorus of madness.

"They see nothing because they choose not to see."

"The storm will come, and none will be spared."

"Ashes, only ashes will remain."

You close your eyes, willing the voices to stop, but it only makes things worse. When you open them again, you’re no longer standing among the dead. Now you’re in the throne room of the Red Keep, but it’s wrong, all wrong. The Iron Throne looms ahead, but it is twisted, a monstrous thing made of jagged, blackened metal, as though the fires of Hell itself forged it. Sitting upon it is a figure you can’t quite make out, obscured in shadow, though you know who it is.

Aerys.

He laughs, a high, manic sound that echoes in the empty hall, and beside him stands a dragon, not Terrax but something far darker, its eyes glowing with an unnatural fire. And at the foot of the throne, lying in a pool of blood, is a child—a babe no older than a few months.

Your heart seizes in your chest, and you take a step forward, but the voice returns, louder, more insistent.

"Death comes for all, even those not yet born."

"The child will die. You cannot stop it."

"The flames will consume them all."

Terror grips you like a vice, and you scream, but no sound comes. The child on the floor doesn’t move. Its tiny body is still, so terribly still.

"Even your child will die, princess."

Your breath catches, and your hand flies to your stomach instinctively, as though you can protect the life that might be there, but the voice laughs, mocking.

"The flames will take it, too."

The nightmare shatters into a thousand jagged pieces, and you wake with a gasp, your heart pounding violently against your ribs. You’re back in the chambers at Starfall, the soft light of the moon filtering through the window. The sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below is distant, barely audible over the roar of blood in your ears.

Arthur sleeps beside you, his body warm, his breathing slow and steady. You force yourself to remain still, swallowing down the panic that threatens to rise, trying not to wake him. Your skin is clammy, drenched in cold sweat, and your hand trembles as you place it on your abdomen, the place where life might now be growing.

You bite your lip, holding back the wave of fear. Could it be true? Could you be with child? The possibility had crossed your mind before, but now, after that nightmare, it feels far more real, far more terrifying.

The voices... they had never spoken of a child before. And yet tonight, they did. You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing the memory of the nightmare back, but the image of the lifeless babe on the floor of the throne room won’t leave you. The voice’s threat lingers in your mind, refusing to fade.

Carefully, you shift, propping yourself up on one elbow, watching Arthur as he sleeps. His face is peaceful in the moonlight, his brow untroubled, his lips slightly parted. For a moment, you’re overcome by the sheer intensity of your feelings for him, how safe he makes you feel, how much you trust him. But now... now you’re not sure if even Arthur can protect you from this.

Could you tell him? Could you burden him with this fear, with the knowledge that you might be carrying his child, even as the world teeters on the brink of war?

You reach out, your fingers brushing lightly against his arm. The touch is gentle, and he stirs slightly, but doesn’t wake. For now, you’ll keep this to yourself. For now, you’ll protect him from the weight of it.

But as you lie back down, staring up at the ceiling, your mind races. You need to be certain. You need to know.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow you’ll find out if it’s true.

For now, you’ll try to sleep. Try, though you know that the nightmares will return.

"The child will die."

The voice’s cruel words still echo in your mind as you close your eyes once more, hoping—praying—that sleep will come without the darkness.

The throne room of the Red Keep was sweltering, the air filled with dread and the ever-present scent of smoke and char. The massive iron doors were shut tight, barring the world outside from what was about to unfold within. Terrax, lay coiled behind the Iron Throne, his scales glinting faintly in the low light of the hall. His enormous body stretched across the cold stone floor, a beast far too large for any room in the Red Keep, but Aerys, in his madness, had insisted he remain close.

King Aerys II sat on the Iron Throne with an unsettling calmness, his ragged silver hair framing his face. His pale eyes gleamed with a feverish intensity that betrayed the stillness of his body. There was a flicker of his old instability in those eyes, but for now, he appeared unnervingly composed, watching the men below him with an expression bordering on delight.

"Bring them in," Aerys said softly, his voice carrying through the hall like a snake’s hiss. His long fingers gripped the armrests of the Iron Throne, nails tapping against the twisted swords that formed the seat.

Jaime Lannister and Ser Barristan Selmy stood at attention near the foot of the throne, their faces carefully neutral, though Jaime’s eyes flickered to Terrax now and then, the dragon’s looming presence making the knight uneasy. Both knew that no matter how calm Aerys appeared now, his moods could shift like wildfire, unpredictable and deadly.

The heavy doors creaked open, and a group of prisoners were dragged inside, their hands bound in chains, their faces drawn with fear. They were accused traitors—men who had dared to speak against the king, who had plotted rebellion or whispered dissent. Their crimes varied, but their fates would be the same.

Aerys leaned forward, his eyes glittering. "Traitors," he murmured, as though savoring the word. "You thought to betray your king, to betray the realm. But you forget that I have a dragon."

He smiled then, a thin, crooked thing, and his gaze shifted to Terrax, who stirred at the mention of his name. The great dragon’s golden eyes opened slowly, glowing with a dim, molten light. His massive tail thumped once against the floor, causing a tremor to ripple through the room.

"Burn them," Aerys commanded, his voice cold, dispassionate. "Let the flames cleanse their treachery."

There was a moment of tense silence before Terrax moved, his great head lifting from the floor, nostrils flaring. The prisoners’ eyes widened in terror, some of them pleading under their breath, others too petrified to speak. But there was no mercy here. The dragon reared up, his neck arching back as his jaws parted. For a brief second, the room was filled with a sickening, heavy anticipation.

Then, with a roar that shook the very walls, Terrax unleashed a torrent of flame. The dragonfire swept over the prisoners, reducing their desperate cries to nothing in a matter of moments. The flames were impossibly bright, and the heat was so intense that even those standing near the throne could feel it singe the air. When the fire died down, nothing remained of the men but charred, blackened bones and smoldering ash.

Aerys watched with a twisted, satisfied grin, his eyes alight with something that was neither relief nor regret, but pure, unadulterated madness. "Beautiful," he whispered, almost to himself. "The flames are so beautiful."

Terrax lowered his head again, smoke curling from his nostrils, but something in the air had changed. The dragon shifted uneasily, his tail lashing once, twice, against the floor with increasing agitation. His eyes, once calm and steady, now flickered with a wildness that had not been there moments before.

Aerys, too absorbed in his own reverie, did not notice. "More," he murmured, his voice growing louder. "We must find more traitors. Let the dragon cleanse them all."

But Terrax wasn’t listening anymore. Something had snapped inside him. The flames that had poured from his mouth moments before now seemed to burn within him, unsettling and uncontrollable. His wings twitched, his breath coming faster, and then, without warning, he let out a thunderous, guttural roar that reverberated through the throne room, shaking the very foundations of the Red Keep.

Jaime’s hand went to his sword, his heart pounding. He glanced at Ser Barristan, whose expression had hardened, but neither moved. Terrax thrashed his tail, knocking over a brazier and sending embers scattering across the floor. The dragon’s eyes glowed brighter, wild, and full of rage.

"Calm him," Barristan muttered under his breath, stepping closer to the king. "Calm him now, before—"

Aerys, oblivious to the growing danger, waved a dismissive hand. "He is my dragon," he said, his voice cracking with arrogance. "He will obey me. Terrax!"

The dragon snarled, his head swinging toward the throne, teeth bared. For a moment, it looked as though the beast would strike, his eyes locking onto the mad king’s form with a fiery intensity that sent a ripple of unease through the room.

"Terrax!" Aerys barked, his tone sharp, commanding. "Do as your king commands!"

But Terrax did not obey. His rage had consumed him. With a deafening shriek, he turned toward the doors of the throne room, his wings unfurling in one swift, powerful motion. The force of his wings sent a gust of wind through the hall, knocking over banners and rattling the ancient windows.

"Open the doors!" Jaime shouted, his voice ringing with urgency. Barristan was already moving, rushing toward the doors to throw them open.

Terrax lunged forward, his enormous claws scraping against the stone floor, his tail smashing into one of the pillars as he charged toward the exit. The massive iron doors groaned as they swung open just in time for the dragon to escape, his huge body barely squeezing through the entrance.

"Stop him!" Aerys screamed from the throne, his calmness shattered. His voice was high-pitched, desperate. "He is mine! Bring him back!"

But it was too late. With a terrifying, ear-splitting screech, Terrax launched himself into the air, his wings beating furiously as he took flight, disappearing into the darkening sky above the Red Keep.

The throne room fell into a stunned silence, the only sound the crackling of embers still smoldering on the stone floor.

Aerys, his face pale with fury, gripped the arms of the Iron Throne so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "He will return," he hissed, his voice shaking with a barely contained rage. "He is mine, and he will return, just as my daughter."

But in his heart, there was a flicker of doubt—one that he would never admit.

[82mitsu]

{18Trip} <PROLOGUE SIDE-A: Still blank> 000-A08 The biggest bet of one’s life

A translation of 18TRIP's PROLOGUE SIDE-A by 82mitsu. ENG proofreading by sasaranurude. Note: this is the final chapter of the prologue.

Kafka: ……

Kaede: Kafka? Hey, what’s wro—-

(Loud popping noise)

Kaeda: Uwawgh!?

Kafka: Congrats Kaede-chan!

Kaede: Huh, what…!?

Kafka: My company has decided to hire you~!

Kaede: Hweh, eh?

Sakujiro: Congratulations. I believe this has taken you around 5 hours. As expected from Kaede-san.

Kaede: Sakujiro-san!? Eh, where did you… why…?

Kaede: Also, you said “my company”... as in Kafka’s company?

Kafka: Fufufu… Surprised, aren’t you. Here, look at this.

Kaede: What…? Documents?

Kafka: Yeah. Registration documents for the company I created.

Kaede: Registration… I can’t keep up with what’s happening, but… did you really—a company…?

Kaede: What’s this mission statement thingie right here?

Kafka: Management philosophy, or maybe… the guidelines for what ideas you want to realize, perhaps I should say.

Kaede: In other words, what you want to achieve by making the company?

Kafka: Exactly that!

Kafka: Do you remember the first time you went on a trip? What you were wishing for, with who, and where you went? 

Kafka: A heart-pounding experience, a chance encounter… There might've been some unforeseen trouble, too.

Kafka: However, none of these things can be experienced unless you take that first step forward to embark on a trip.

Kafka: Where should you go? What should you do? What should you take with you? Together with who—? 

Kafka: All the people that yearn to see the world, and those who haven’t had a taste of traveling yet, HAMA receives with open arms.

Kafka: Hoping one day your heart will grow warm when memories resurface, as if it’s reaching out to give you courage.

Kafka: A trip to the HAMA that’s kept close, and loved. To take your hand and lead you there—

Kafka: That is…

Kaede & Kafka: Hama Tours

Kaede: Kafka, this is…

Kafka: Say, Kaede-chan.

Kafka: Today, you felt it when going around HAMA, didn’t you? In the past, how it differs from the first trip that you gifted me… That the HAMA we know now—it's in a tough spot.

Kafka: I’m no longer that ill person waiting for Kaede-chan’s tales of traveling.

Kafka: I’ll wager all that’s left of my life, and bring HAMA back on its feet. And in order to achieve that, I need you. That’s why…

Kafka: So, Kaede-chan, bet your whole life on me too.

Kaede: Kafka…

Kaede: (The whole time, no matter where I was, I could always feel a tiny bit of regret. Wondering if this is really the kind of job I wanted to do. Even though travel work is what I yearned for, these feelings that I had—)

Kaede: (Were ones of wanting to make someone smile, from a trip to HAMA. That’s what was left of them. —A trip like the one I gave to Kafka that day.)

Kaede: –I’ll place a bet. 

Kaede: On Kafka, on the work to bring HAMA back, I’ll bet my whole life!

Kafka: …Really? You mean it?

Kaede: Without a doubt.

Kafka: And it… isn’t it because you pity me? Wanting to “help” someone as miserable as me…That’s not how you feel, right?”

Kaede: No! Not a chance I’d ever think that.

Kaede: I, honestly, have been frustrated the entire time. Seeing HAMA drained of color compared to how it was… How it’s helpless, lifeless. 

Kaede: But all I could do was absentmindedly stare. That’s why… you’re truly amazing.

Kaede: Thanks to you, I’ll be able to do something for the sake of HAMA, too. I’ve never been this happy before. 

Kafka: Right… yeah. Right!

Kafka: Seems like I won after going all out, one way or another. 

Kaede: Hm? What are you talking about?

Kafka: Nothing at all.

Sakujiro: ……

Kaede: Um, so then… what now? Actually, what should I do first?

Kafka: Oh? You’re sure fired up~ Kaede-chan. How admirable!

Kaede: Obviously I am! Because…

Kaede: (I feel like I finally found the kind of job I wanted to do. And, most importantly, it’s the same one as Kafka’s.)

Kaede: (Reading HAMA Tours’ mission statement makes it all clear. How it's the same as me… How the trip we took together that day made Kafka who he is today!)

Kaede: Either way! I’ll do anything! And when do we start… Ah, that’s right. I’ll work myself to the bone if it’s from next week on.

Kaede: That unemployment really came at the right time…

Kafka: Yeah, I knew.

Kaede: Eh…  Did I… talk about how the company went out of business?

Kafka: Fufu, makes you wonder. The planets really aligned for this one, didn’t they.

Sakujiro: Young Master, it’s getting time…

Sakujiro: Your body will get cold.

Kafka: …

Kafka: I love the rain. No matter who it is, the raindrops will fall the same onto everyone. Besides—

Kafka: The coldness that has never stopped raining onto me will, at last, clear up tomorrow.

Kaede: Tomorrow? Is there something tomorrow?

Kafka: Yeah. My surgery.

Kaede: Wha….? Surgery… Surgery!? But Kafka, on PeChat, you said it was over…

Kafka: That was a lie.

Kafka: YOU LIED!? But, Sakujiro-san was also…

Sakujiro: My deepest condolences. This very Sakujiro’s 879th special skill is Co-Conspirator in No Time.

Kaede: Unbelievable….

Kaede: Wait, not that part!

Kaede: Even though your surgery is tomorrow, you went out, and now you're sitting in the pouring rain like this…! 

Kaede: Put on this jacket! And then a towel, towel… Ah, I have a handkerchief. Here use this to dry yourself off immediately—

Kafka: Ahaha! You’re panicking all over the place, Kaede-chan.

Kaede: Of course I’m panicking! This is no laughing matter, you know!?

Kafka: It is something to laugh about, c’mon.

Kafka: I won a bet I placed with my whole life, so I’m invincible now. No matter what the success rate for my surgery is, there’s no way I’d lose…

Kafka: I absolutely won’t die.

Kaede: I do believe that but… Kafka, why are you that confident about it?

Kafka: Because of the courage you gave to me.

Kaede: I did…?

Kafka: I’m done with just gazing through the window at the world you live in.

Kafka: I won’t let you leave me behind anymore, and I won’t wait for you either.

Kafka: From now on we’ll be equals, standing side-by-side, walking forward while being on the same page.

Kafka: It’s likely that… not everything will be alright. Just like that one trip we took back then, we can end up getting lost, not be able to make it to the observation deck because we didn’t have the money, things like these might happen, too.

Kaede: Yeah, you’re right. But…

Kaede: When that happens, we’ll look for somewhere else.

Kaede: Even if we didn’t get to the observation deck that day, the view of the evening colors from this building was breathtakingly out of this world, wasn’t it?

Kafka: Yeah… it’s exactly as you say.

Kafka: That’s why, Kaede-chan—

Kafka: Let’s go on a trip, together!

<<previous chapter / next chapter>>

prologue directory: A01 / A02 / A03 / A04 / A05 / A06 / A07 / A08 (x)

[matty-bear]

XI. Out [N.S]

type: The Influencer series FINALE

pairing: nick sturniolo x male!oc

warnings: sfw, tooth-rotting fluff, implications of sex (NO SMUT !!)

summary:  in which Finn and Nick come clean about their relationship to the fans on the Cut The Camera Podcast

notes: oh em geeee the influencer is done :000 I’m so grateful for all the support you guys have given me while Ive been working on this series <3 I could have never finished this series without you guy;s love and support fr fr . I might re write this after I write a bit more but I’m happy with how this series is right now ! hopefully you guys are fed with this but if youre not, don't fret there will be more finn and nick content in the near future ^^ thank you again for joining me on this ride and i hope to see you guys on my future works ! <3 p.s., hope you guys dont mind this extra long chapter ;3 

WC: 8033

CH10

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“My love~” The sound of Finn's voice echoing from their dimly lit shared bathroom causes Nick to abruptly lift his head from the pillow he’s laying on. 

“Yes?” Nick replies as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. The soft sound of footsteps pattering against the floorboards sounds through the male's ears as he swings his legs over the side of the bed. 

“I should've done my skincare last night.” Nick didn’t need to lift his head to know that Finn was frowning. His tone sounded nothing but upset and Nick's claim seems to be correct when he lifts his head to be met with his boyfriend slightly pouting. 

“What makes you say that? Did you break out or something?” Nick instinctively grasps Finn's hips to pull him in between his legs. He watches as his boyfriend slowly nods and removes his hand from the left side of his face to reveal a small, baby blue star patch.

“I got a pimple.” Finn raises a finger to point at the covered pimple, his frown not faltering. Before Nick gets the chance to add to the conversation, Finn sighs deeply and takes a seat on his boyfriend’s leg. “I envy you and your clear skin.” 

“Do you now?” Finn rapidly nods his head as he rests his chin on Nick's semi-clothed shoulder. 

“Yeah. You rarely break out. And when you do, it doesn’t take you very long to get rid of the pimples of whatever pops up on your skin.”

Nick simply hums softly and begins to drag his fingertips against Finn’s clothes back. “Baby, I have a question for you.” 

“What is it?” 

“I was talking with Matt and Chris last night about us coming clean about our relationship to the fans. They both made some pretty good points and I wanted to know if you were okay with coming to join us for a podcast so we can, you know, properly come out and I can introduce you to everyone as my boyfriend. It was either that or doing it in a car video but I feel like fans would want to know more about you, especially if they don’t follow you on social media, so they can get to know how wonderful you are from you from the podcast. What do you say? we’ll be filming the episode later today so you practically have all day to think about it.” 

The faint sound of Finn humming runs through Nick's ears for a moment, followed by the soft vibrations of his chest against his arm. “I'm down.” 

Nick's eyes light up as he leans back slightly to peer down at Finn. “really?” 

The taller hums again with a small smile as he gets up from his spot on Nick's leg. “As long as I get to sit next to you in the studio and if Chris and Matt aren’t gonna tease us the entire time.” 

“Well, I can't promise you that, but I'll talk to them later. Anyways, where are you going? Come back.” 

“I need to change!” A small laugh escapes Finn’s lips as he excuses himself to go to the closet. Upon opening the door and letting himself inside the small space, Nick quickly gets up from his spot on the bed and rushes over to the male. The moment he steps foot inside his closet, his eyes narrow as he watches his boyfriend shift through his rack of sweatshirts. 

“What are you doing?” Nick asks, his arms crossing over his chest. 

Finn momentarily shifts his gaze from the hangers in front of him to look over at his boyfriend who’s leaning against the doorframe. He sends the male a soft smile and returns to shifting through the hangers before he replies, “Finding a sweatshirt to wear.” 

“In my closet?” 

“Yeah.” Nick rolls his eyes as Finn finally settles on a clothing item. The redhead can practically see the happiness and excitement radiating off his boyfriend as he slips a black sweatshirt with large gray stars off a hanger. He watches as Finn quickly flips the item around to allow Nick to see it, a cheesy smile clear as day on his lips. 

“This is what you bought on our first date.” Finn says, his arms quickly getting to work on getting the sweatshirt over his head. 

“First date?” Nick asks, a single eyebrow raising as he watches his boyfriend’s head pop out of the top of the sweater. 

Finn lets out a small sigh as the familiar smell of vanilla runs through his senses. “Yeah, first date. Well, I considered it to be a little date, a blind one in a sense if you get what I mean.” 

“You know, we haven’t gone out on a proper date in a while.” At Nick's statement, Finn can't help but smile widely. As he approaches the redhead, he slowly wraps his arms around the shorter’s waist and peers down at him. 

“Is that a way of telling me that you want to go on a proper date?” Finn asks, his smile not faltering as he watches Nick’s facial expressions carefully. 

“Obviously, yes. I’ve actually been planning a little date for a few days now.” Nick smiles as he watches Finn’s eyes mimic those of a child being surprised on Christmas day. “Before you say anything, that’s all I'm telling you.” 

Finn’s excited expression drops and is quickly replaced with a small frown. “Oh come on~” The male whines as he begins to sway himself and Nick back and forth. “Just another hint, please?” 

“Nope. You're just gonna have to wait.” As Nick slips out of Finn’s hold and exits the closet, the latter gasps dramatically and quickly follows him. 

“Come on, please?” 

“Nope.” Finn lets out a small whine as he follows Nick downstairs. He quickly turns the corner when the male enters the kitchen and he immediately leans against the counter closest to Nick with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Well, good morning you two.” Matt greets as he passes the kitchen upon exiting his bedroom, his mop of messy and fluffy chocolate brown hair being a sign of his good night’s rest. 

Finn quickly turns his head around to face the younger male. “Oh hey.” Matt shares a quick smile with Finn as he walks towards the fridge. 

“So…” The brunette starts as he grabs a bottle of root beer off the top shelf. “Are we having a guest join us for the podcast today?” 

At Matt’s straightforward question, Nick quickly shifts his gaze from the small ceramic bowl in his hands to Finn who’s next to him. The redhead shares a quick look with his boyfriend before the taller smiles softly and looks over at Matt who’s taking small sips of the beverage in his hand. 

“I believe so, yes.” Finn replies with a small head nod. Matt lets out an excited shout before he makes his way over to the couple on the opposite side of the kitchen. 

“Did it take a lot of convincing?” Matt diverts his question to Nick who’s busy stirring a serving of dry cereal in the milk in his bowl. He waits for the older to take a quick bite and swallow the contents before he replies, “Not really no. I just gave him a quick rundown of what happened last night and he agreed to join us today.” 

After seeing Matt look over at him, Finn gently nods his head with a small smile. “Well, I’m glad you’re joining us today, Finn.” Matt says as he takes another quick sip of his root beer. “Should I start prepping questions with Chris then?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. When you guys are done, send me the list.” Nick replies with a small head nod. 

“Alright, I'll go do that then. See you guys later.” Matt sends a quick wave goodbye to Nick and Finn as he excuses himself to go back to his bedroom. After ensuring that the male shuts the door behind him, Finn immediately wraps his arms around Nick’s waist and pulls him flush against his chest.

At the sudden movement, the redhead lets out a small noise of surprise and removes the spool full of cereal from his mouth before it spills. After setting the utensil down in the nearly empty bowl, Nick turns his head to be met with a smiley Finn who’s resting his head on his shoulder. 

“Can we go back to bed please?” Finn asks, his speech slightly muffled due to his mouth being inches away from the exposed skin on Nick’s shoulder. 

“Baby, it’s 2 o’clock in the afternoon.” Nick starts, his eyes momentarily shifting over to the microwave nearby to double-check the time. “I don't think it’s a good idea to go to bed right now. Besides, if you want to cuddle, we can do it in the living room.”

“Fine.” Finn huffs slightly, his grip on Nick’s waist tightening ever so slightly. “Hurry up. You're taking too long.” 

“Calm down Mr. Eager. I'm almost done.” Finn impatiently watches as Nick picks up his spoon and scoops up a few pieces of cereal and some milk. At the sight of the male slowly risking the utensil to his slightly opened mouth, Finn groans and drops his head to his boyfriend’s shoulder. 

“You hate me.” Nick can’t help but chuckle at the taller’s statement and quickly stuffs the food in his mouth before going for another portion. 

“Glad you're aware of the fact so I don’t have to verbally say it.” Nick bites back a laugh when he hears Finn gasp dramatically. He watches from the corner of his eye as the male stands upright, his mouth wide open in shock drawing a small chuckle from him. 

“That's so disrespectful.” Finn waits for Nick to eat the contents from his spoon before he lands a poke on his side. The redhead flinches at the small touch and quickly whips around to narrow his eyes at the taller. 

“No, it’s not.” Nick defends as he points the tip of his spoon at the male. 

“Yes, it is.” Finn frowns, “Hurry up and finish your cereal.” 

“You’re the one that interrupted me.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up please I’m getting cold.” 

“Baby, you have a whole-ass sweater on. The only person here that should be cold is me.” Nick gestures to the white tank top hugging his torso before he turns around to face his bowl again. 

“Hey, you’re the one that decided to change out of your shirt to put this on.” Finn starts, his pointer finger hooking underneath the strap on Nick’s tank top. “You could’ve left it on.” 

“Okay true,” Nick mumbles, his speech slightly muffled due to the food in his mouth. Finn simply hums as he watches the redhead walk over to the skin to wash his dish.

After turning off the tap and wiping his hands dry, Nick makes his way over to Finn and wordlessly grabs his hand to guide the two of them to the living room. The shorter momentarily releases his hand from Finn’s to sit down as as he reaches over to grab a pillow, the taller’s eyes stay glued to Nick’s arms which slightly flex as he reaches over. 

“I can feel you starting. Well, see you staring as well.” Nick states, his eyes momentarily shifting up to see his boyfriend before he fixes it back onto the pillow in his hand. 

“Are you sure you haven’t been working out?” Finn asks, a single hand resting on his hip as the other points at Nick. The latter quickly raises his head at his boyfriend’s question and chuckles softly before reaching forward to grab his waist. 

“Finn, we've been around each other almost every single day. I think you would know if I was working out.” Nick guides Finn to sit in his lap before he continues, “Besides, you know damn well I'm not about that physical activity shit.” 

Finn can’t help but giggle at Nick's last statement. “Oh trust me, I know. But I'm just saying that you got a little muscle building up.” 

Nick raises an eyebrow at the taller tucking his head in the crook of his neck. “I heavily beg to differ but whatever you say.” 

“Look, I'm not lying!” Finn quickly removes himself from his spot in Nick’s neck to grab into his arm. His hand quickly shifts up to the male’s bicep and the moment he squeezes the area, he feels the shorter tense underneath his fingers. “You definitely have some muscles here. Look, just flex a little.”

“Finn, I am not flexing.” 

“Come on, why not.” 

“Because.”

“Because why?” 

Nick lets out a small sigh and looks over at Finn, the sight of his puppy eyes causing his heart to ache. “Alright, enough of that.” He gently sets his hand on the taller’s face to push him away.  “If I flex my arm will you paint your nails with me?” 

“Abso-fucking-lutely. Now flex, cmon!” Nick sighs yet again and waits for Finn to remove his hand from his bicep before he quickly flexes his arm. At the excited shout escaping his boyfriend’s mouth, Nick instinctively hides his face behind his hand. “You do have muscles you fucking liar!” 

Nick doesn’t say anything and instead shakes his head in response. Finn playfully rolls his eyes at the male before he grabs the hand covering his face and slowly pries it away. “Why are you so flustered?” Finn teases, a large smile appearing on his lips at the sight of his boyfriend’s flushed face. 

“Shut it,” Nick mumbles as he leans forward to hide in Finn’s chest. The latter giggles at his boyfriend and cards a hand through his dark red locks before landing a small peck on the crown of his head. 

_____

“Baby, you know you don’t have to do a full face of makeup right? It’s not like we’re going out in public.” Nick says as he steps into his bathroom, his fingers getting to work on zipping up a purple sweater that’s loosely hung on his shoulders.

“It’s just guy-liner I swear.” Finn defends, his tall frame leaning back from the mirror to look over at the male standing next to him. He gives his boyfriend a small smile before lifting the eyeliner underneath his eye again. Nick sighs softly and shakes his head as he lifts himself on the counter. He wastes no time in grabbing Finn’s free hand and fiddling with the few rings hugging his fingers. The latter, noticing the male’s change in behavior, momentarily stops what he’s doing to look over at him. “My love?” 

Nick quickly lifts his head to meet Finn’s worried gaze. “Yeah?” 

“You’re nervous. What’s wrong?” 

“Nervous? Pshh. I’m not nervous.” Finn exhales deeply through his nose before turning his body so he’s fully facing Nick. He sends the male a knowing look before saying, “You don’t think I noticed that you play with my rings when you're nervous?” 

Nick forces his lips into a straight line and allows his gaze to fall back down to Finn’s hand which is still in his gasp. “Okay, maybe I am a little nervous.” 

A small frown makes its way onto Finn’s lips before he takes a step close to Nick and sets his free hand on his clothed thigh. “Why?”

“Don’t know.” 

“Nick…” As Finn cups the latter’s face with a single hand, Nick sighs softly and looks up at him. “Is it because this is gonna be the first video that’s gonna be posted of us being together?” Nick slowly nods his head. “Oh baby, you don’t need to be nervous about this. Just think about it like this; When this podcast gets uploaded, we can finally be open to doing whatever we want. You want us to be free with this, right?” Nick nods again. “Okay, then let’s get this done and we can do that.” 

Finn lands a quick peck on the younger’s forehead before returning to his space in front of the mirror. As he touches up his slightly smudged eyeliner, the faint sound of the door opening alerts Nick and causes his head to quickly lift and turn towards the sound. 

“You guys getting ready to go on the catwalk or what? The hell's taking so long?” The annoyed voice of Chris echoes in the bedroom as the male steps inside and makes a beeline for the open bathroom. The male sighs softly and crosses his arms over his chest when his eyes land on Nick and Finn who have both stopped what they’re doing. Finn slowly turns his head around to meet eyes with Chris, the hand that’s holding his eyeliner still inches away from his eye. 

“Just give us five more minutes,” Finn says with a soft huff. 

“Can you knock, please? You have no manners.” Nick mumbles as he lightly shoves Chris’s shoulder to push him out of the bathroom. 

“Whatever. Just hurry up please.” Chris rolls his eyes with a small sigh before he exits the room and gently shuts the door behind him. 

“You done?” Nick asks, turning his head to look over at his boyfriend who’s ruffling his hair. 

“Yeah, I'm done,” Finn replies as he shakes his head, his slightly curly bangs flopping down neatly over his forehead. “Wait, do you wanna wear something of mine before we head to the studio?” 

“Wear something of yours?” Nick repeats, a single eyebrow-raising. 

“Yeah.” Finn hums and guides the shorter out of the bathroom. “Since I'm wearing your sweater, you could wear the one I wore here. The fans would see that we’re wearing each other's clothes and they would freak out about it.” 

Nick softly hums as he watches Finn walk over to the stack of neatly folded clothes sitting on his desk. “I’m down.” As the redhead unzips his sweater and shrugs it off his body, Finn slips a hoodie with dark green and black stripes out from his pile of clothes. He walks over to Nick, the item in his right hand, and gives his boyfriend a small smile before handing it to him. “Will it fit me?” 

Finn’s smile immediately drops and he narrows his eyes at his boyfriend who gently slips the hoodie out of his hand. “Nick, are you serious?” 

“Dead serious. I’m clearly larger than you and have never worn your clothes before so.” 

“Nick… You act like you're two sizes larger than I am. You’ll be fine, baby. Just put it on.” Nick glances up at Finn and sends him an anxious expression before hesitantly slipping the hoodie over his head.

He swiftly pulls his arms through the sleeves and pulls down the end of the clothing item once it’s fully on him. Nick takes a moment to stare down at his torso and examine the hoodie loosely hugging his torso before he looks up and gives a small smile to Finn. 

“See? It fits you!” Finn beams with a wide smile. He walks closer to Nick and begins to fix his hair which was messed up while he was putting his hoodie on. As he begins to card his slim fingers through his boyfriend’s hair, the redhead hums softly and subconsciously leans into the touch. 

“Yeah, I guess it does.” Nick hums softly. “I think we should go to the studio before Chris beats our ass.” 

“I think so too. Let’s go, c'mon.” Finn takes Nick’s hand in his and intertwines their fingers before he pulls him to the door. The moment they both step out of the room, they enter the brightly lit podcast studio. 

At the sound of a door softly shutting, Matt perks his head up and looks over at Nick and Finn who are walking towards the pink and white booth he’s sitting in. 

“Finally.” Matt sighs as he shuts his phone off and tucks it under his leg. “Was starting to think that you two would never show up.” 

“Okay, calm down. We’re here, are we not?” Nick says, shooting a glare toward the younger. The male steps aside when he reaches the booth to allow Finn to take a seat first. After his boyfriend settles in front of a mic at the edge of the table, Nick slips into his usual spot in the booth as well. 

“Everyone good with their spots?” Chris asks, mainly asking his question to Finn. As he gently sets his hands on both sides of his mic, Finn abruptly lifts his head to meet Chris’ gaze. After locking eyes with the boy, he gently nods his head and shoots the male a small smile. 

“The cameras are on right?” Nick asks, his eyes drifting from the various cameras tucked in the corners of the room. 

“Yeah, they’re on. We’re all good to go, kid. Start when you’re ready.” Matt confirms with a small head nod. 

Nick lets out a small exhale through his nose before looking over at Finn who’s sitting fairly close to him, however not close to the point they’d be in the same camera frame. The taller looks over at the younger and swiftly takes his hand that’s under the table.

As he begins to trace comforting circles on the back of the redhead’s hand, Nick cracks a smile and averts his attention back to his mic. He looks down at it for a moment and glances over Chris, who gives him an encouraging head nod. Nick nods faintly, more as a reassurance thing for himself, before he looks towards his camera. 

“Good morning Campers and welcome back to the Cut The Camera Podcast!” Nick greets, a warm smile immediately taking over his features. “I am Nick Sturniolo and I will be your favorite host for today's episode.” 

“Yeah, yeah favorite host my ass.” Matt mumbles, rolling his eyes for a brief moment before he looks at his respective camera. “I’m Matt by the way.” 

“And I'm Chris!” The youngest triplets exclaims, a large smile clear as day on his face. The male plays his imaginary air guitar for a moment and mimics the sound of the said instrument before he stops and rests his hands on the table in front of him. 

“I’m going to go ahead and do the small introduction for this episode because someone over here is getting nervous.” Matt begins, his eyes shifting over to lock with Nick’s who sends him a warning glare. “Today is a very special episode because we have someone joining us today. You guys might know this person, some of you may not, but I'll allow Nick to introduce this person to you guys. Nick?” 

“Thanks Matt,” Nick mumbles, his voice trailing off as he subconsciously begins to fidget with Finn’s fingers under the table. 

“Is that sarcasm?” 

“That’s up to your interpretation.” Matt shakes his head with a soft sigh as Nick looks over at his boyfriend. The redhead can’t help but smile when the male sends him a small wink and quickly looks away from him to look at his camera. “Today joining us in the studio is my boyfriend, Finn. Would you like to introduce yourself to the viewers and or listeners?” 

“I’d love to.” Finn replies with a small smile. He brings his mic closer to his mouth with his free hand before he continues, “Hey guys, I’m Finn as you may know. I am 21 years old and have been dating Nick for almost three months now. I am a full-time Instagram influencer but am close to being a full-time model as well.” 

“Wait, you're close to being a full-time model? I thought that was a side job you had.” Chris asks, his head tilting to the side as he looks over at the blue-haired male. 

“Yeah, it was a side job but since my manager, shoutout to Kim.” Finn starts, making a small finger heart with his free hand before he continues, “Has been booking me a lot more, I’ve been getting more modeling opportunities. It’s like every other day that I need to go to a shoot so I'd say that I'm very close to modeling full-time.” 

“This isn’t a question we have prepped but since we’re on the topic, would you drop Instagram if you did decide to go full-time with modeling? I know that job is a lot, from what I hear from you, and I'm just wondering if it’d be a little difficult to juggle two jobs at once.” 

“That’s a very good question hmm..” Finn ponders for a moment, his lips momentarily shifting into a straight line as he thinks. “I don’t think so, no. Instagram means a lot to me considering how much of a following I have on there and everything. Not to mention how I started my entire career there so I think that suddenly dumping Instagram would be a lot. I’ve been healthy balancing that and modeling with no problem right now so keeping up my account shouldn’t be a problem if and when I decide to go full-time with modeling.” 

“I see, I see.” Matt hums, “Was it hard making a face for yourself on social media through Instagram? I feel like it’s a lot harder for people to reach popularity through Instagram since there’s so much on there. Also, guys, don’t worry we will get into relationship questions here in a minute.” 

Finn chuckles softly at Matt’s last statement, his head dropping for a second before he looks back up and replies, “It was a little difficult, yes but I just kept being constant with posts and stuff. I feel like the key to growing on any base is being consistent so that’s exactly what I did. I did experience some setbacks a few years into gaining popularity but I got over them eventually.” 

“When did you start social media? Like age-wise.” Chris asks. 

“I wanna say like 16,” Finn replies with a small head nod. “I wanted to start way younger but my parents didn’t let me so.” 

“I feel like 16 is a decent age to start this stuff at. I mean we started our YouTube career at 17 and just continued to work towards getting popularity. I was about to say fame but I find that a little corny. Besides, I think fame is too big of a word to describe what we have right now.” 

“I completely agree with the fame thing. I would never use that term to describe myself, no matter how big I get. I just feel like that’s more of a celebrity term. You know, singers and actors usually have that term tied to their names.” 

“Yes! I completely agree!” Matt exclaims, his voice raising a few octaves as he points a single finger at Finn. 

“Great minds think alike,” Finn says with a large smile. The two share a quick handshake before Chris breaks the small silence. 

“Nick, I haven't heard from you in a good minute. You doing okay over there?” Chris asks, a teasing smile creeping onto his lips as he glances over at the older who’s staring at his boyfriend. 

“Huh?” Nick hums, quickly snapping out of his gaze when Chris’ voice runs through his ears. “Oh, yeah I'm fine.” 

“He’s been staring at Finn this whole time. Is the sun shining out of his ass or something?” Matt asks, adding to the teasing as he nudges Nick with his foot. 

“Alright, enough of that. I didn’t sign up to sit through an hour of teasing from the two of you.” Nick mumbles, shifting his gaze from Finn to his two brothers. As he seemingly stares daggers at the two, Finn speaks up. 

“I can smell the edits now,” Finn says with a small laugh. “Oh my God, the way he looks at him.” 

“Not you too,” Nick says, his jaw dropping slightly as he looks over at his boyfriend who’s already gazing down at him. 

“I gotta agree with Finn here. I’m gonna see a shit ton of edits of the two of you on my for you page after this episode is out.” Chris chimes in, his speech slightly muffled due to his hands covering and rubbing his face. 

“Speaking of which!” Finn exclaims with a small smile, “If you guys make any edits of Nick, tag me in them, please. I need to see every single Nick edit in existence for me to live a happy life, thank you.” 

“Baby, I'm literally right here. Why do you need to see edits of me when I'm right next to you?” Nick asks, his eyebrows furring together as a bewildered expression takes over his features. Before he allows Finn to reply, he points at his camera and says, “Do the same with me please but for Finn edits, thanks.” 

“Okay, fucking hypocrite. I was just about to defend myself but it seems like we both have the same idea.” 

“Okay but in my defense, I rarely see edits of you. I need more in my life, seriously.” 

“What the hell is this conversation?” Chris laughs, gaining a small shrug from Matt who’s simply staring at the couple in front of him in disbelief. 

“Can we go back to questioning the kid, please? Or you two to be specific?” Matt asks, chucking when Nick and Finn both stop their conversation to look over at him. 

“My bad. Go ahead with the questions.” Finn apologizes with a small giggle. 

“Alright, first question about you and Nick.” Chris begins, scrolling through his notes for a moment before continuing, “When did you two first meet? Matt and I know what went down but the fans don’t so please enlighten us.” 

“Enlighten us is crazy,” Nick mumbles, his statement earning a small chuckle from his boyfriend. 

“Do you wanna say it or should I?” Finn asks, adjusting his position on the booth slightly so he can face the male next to him. 

“You can,” Nick replies with a small smile.

Finn gently nods his head and clears his throat before he starts explaining, “So the triplets and I were invited to this large influencer party in downtown LA. When I first met Nick, I found him staring at the bottles of liquor like he was seeing colors for the first time. I asked if he needed help and he agreed and let me help him. And before you guys say anything, I made him the least alcoholic beverages possible. Anyways Nick doesn’t know this but I could see him staring at me out of the corner of my eye the whole time I was getting his drinks.” 

“YOU COULD?” Nick exclaims, his face flushing in embarrassment as he looks wide-eyed at the male next to him. 

“Yeah, I could.” Finn giggles. 

“Stop, that's so embarrassing, oh my God.” As Nick hides his face in his hands, collective laughter sounds from the three boys in the studio. 

“Hey, I was staring at you too so it’s fine.” 

“You were?” 

“Absolutely, yes. The second you left the drinking area, I purposely dragged my friends closer to the area you guys were at so I could get a better look at you.” 

“I didn’t see you when I was looking for you, though. You must’ve found a good spot.” 

“You were looking for me?” Finn smiles widely at Nick as the male’s face heats up and takes on a soft red hue. 

Nick sputters for a moment before he voices his reply, “Yeah when we were leaving.” 

“Seeing how easily Finn makes Nick all flustered like this is fucking insane to me.” Matt states as he rubs a hand over his chin. 

“You guys will definitely see more of this when we get Finn in vlogs and whatnot but this kid literally has Nick wrapped around his pinkie finger. It’s fucking hilarious.” Chris adds with a small laugh. 

“Okay, can you two shut up please? Thanks.” Nick says, subtly flipping off the two males before he turns to face Finn again. 

“They do have a point, my love. You do get flustered quite easily.” Finn says, his statement earning a hurtful expression to spread across Nick’s face. Before the male gets to retaliate, the taller grabs his face with a single hand and brings him closer to him. Nick’s face darkens a shade or two as his nose brushes against his boyfriend’s and he slowly shrinks in his seat under the male’s strong gaze. 

“CLIP THAT! CLIP THAT!” Chris exclaims as he gets out of his seat and points at the two boys a few steps away from him. 

“The editors are gonna get a kick out of this episode.” Matt says, his eyes staying fixed onto Nick who’s staring up at Finn with slightly wide eyes. 

“Nick editors to be exact.” 

“Can yall shut it please.” Nick mutters, his efforts of sounding threading failing when Finn sends him a heart melting smile. 

“Finn, you’re gonna kill him.” 

“I’m stopping, I'm stopping.” 

_______

It’s currently Monday and Nick and Finn are huddled up in the redhead’s bedroom. A random movie they both agreed to watch is playing on the television however neither of the boys are paying any attention to it. Rather, the two are too occupied in being wrapped in each other's arms under a large blanket they stole from Chris. Comfortable silence drifts between the two, the only real sound filling the room being the movie and their synced breaths. 

“The podcast episode is being released in ten minutes,” Nick mumbles, his soft voice breaking the small silence in the room. 

Finn lifts his head from his spot on Nick’s chest. “Really?” 

Nick hums in response. “That means you’re gonna have to let me get up so I can upload it.” 

Finn chuckles softly and reluctantly removes himself from Nick’s hold to sit up and lean against the headboard. He takes a moment to stretch his sore limbs before he looks over at his boyfriend who hasn’t moved from his position. “Do you want me to get your laptop or are you gonna get up?” 

Nick shifts his eyes from the television in front of him to look over at Finn. “Can you get it for me, please? I’m too comfortable.” 

“Of course, give me a second.” Nick silently watches as Finn gets out from underneath the covers and slips off the mattress. The male walks a few steps to arrive at Nick's desk and disconnects any wires connected to his laptop before picking it up and returning to bed. “Here you go, my love.” 

“Thank you, baby.” Nick sends Finn a warm smile as he hands him his laptop. It was only then that the redhead decided to sit up and lean against the headboard. As he sets his laptop on his lap and turns it on, Finn shuffles closer to the male and leans against his shoulder. “I can’t believe this is happening.” 

“What? Us coming out as a couple to the public?” 

“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, I'm glad we’re doing this but I'm still a little nervous.” 

“I am too, but don't worry too much. We got this.” Finn sits up a little to nestle his face in the crook of Nick’s neck. The latter can’t help but tense up at the feeling of the taller peppering the side of his neck with soft and tender kisses. Nick opens his mouth to comment on his boyfriend’s behavior but cuts himself off when the male bites down on the skin under his ear.

“Finn,” Nick whines, his eyes shut tightly as he subconsciously tits his neck to the side to give the male more access to his skin. 

“Hmm?” Finn hums, his focus staying fixed on the younger’s skin in between his teeth.

“I need to upload this, you’re distracting me.” 

“Am I now?” 

“Yes you-“ Nick cuts himself off yet again when Finn begins to suck on the same area he was biting moments prior. A low groan slips out of Nick's mouth as he moves his laptop off his lap and grabs his boyfriend’s bicep. “Finn, please.” 

The latter bites down on Nick’s tender skin once more before finally stopping and pulling away. Finn eyes the area he marked for a moment and can’t help the proud smile forming on his lips as the sight of a purpling spot under the redhead’s ear. “Might need to cover that up before we go downstairs.” Finn says as he rubs over the area with his index finger. 

“You’re helping me.” Nick grumbles as he grabs his laptop and pulls it back on his lap. “I’m getting your aas back for this by the way.” 

“I’d like to see you try.” Nick looks over at Finn and takes in his cocky grin. The male can’t help but scoff softly at the sight and returns to uploading the podcast episode. It only takes about five minutes for Nick to upload the video and when he’s done, he softly shuts his laptop and sets it on the nearby nightstand. 

“I’d like to try now.” 

_____

“Guys the fans are going fucking insane. I swear i’ve never seen so many fan pages edit a video of ours so quick-“ Matt starts as he opens the door to Nick’s room. He quickly shuts his mouth and stares wide-eyed at the two shirtless males on the bed, the only thing covering their lower halves being the blanket they were using earlier. Nick quickly slips off Finn and looks over at Matt who’s standing in the doorway, his face flush in embarrassment. 

“Matt! Fucking knock!” Nick exclaims as he pulls the blanket up to his chest. 

“My bad. I'm gonna go bleach my eyes now.” Matt sputters, his words mumbling together as he quickly exits the room and loudly shuts the door behind him. 

“God, that kid.” As Nick lets out a heavy exhale, he looks over at Finn who’s still lying on his back.

He takes a moment to stare at the male while his eyes are still shut and allows his eyes to wander down to his slightly parted lips which are taking in heavy inhales of air, his chest rapidly rising in the process. Nick’s eyes eventually wander to the taller’s hair, which is a lot messier considering what they were doing before they got interrupted. Before he allows his gaze to wander down to his exposed chest, Nick quickly rips his gaze away when Finn opens his eyes. 

“We should do this more often.” Finn breathes out as he blinks up at the male hovering over him. 

“Are you sure about that? I don't think you could go for much longer considering how fucked you look right now.”

“Oh, I looked fucked right now?” As Nick hums softly in response, Finn sits up slightly and leans against his arms, the crown of his head inches away from the headboard of the bed. As the taller gazes up at his boyfriend, he can’t help but let his eyes wander down to his chest. “Wait, I just realized you don’t have a shirt on.” 

“Oh,” Nick quickly looks down at his torso and peeks into the gap made from the blanket covering the majority of his upper half. “Yeah, I don't.” 

As Nick looks back over at Finn, a confused expression overtakes his features at the sight of the taller’s wide smile. “Why are you smiling so hard?” 

“Well it’s just that you’ve always been so huge on keeping a shirt on and not allowing anyone to see you shirtless and the fact that you are currently topless is just making me a little happy. You know,  because you were comfortable enough to take your tank top off and be bare during what we just did.” 

“Oh,” Nick mumbles again, a single arm raising to rub his nape. “Yeah, I do feel quite comfortable with you now. Besides, I feel like if we’re going to have 

sex or make out then I can't have my shirt on.” 

Finn’s eyebrows furrow at Nick’s last statement and he quickly sits upright. “Love, you know you don’t have to feel obligated to not have a top on when we do this shit right?” Silence falls over the two boys for a moment.

At the sight of Nick forcing his lips together and looking off to the side, Finn heavily sighs and leans his head against the male’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, if we’re going to have sex or shit like that, it is completely okay with me if you want to keep your clothes on. It’s not like I'm going to get upset or anything. I want you to be comfortable, okay?” 

“Okay.” When Nick turns his head to look over at Finn, the latter immediately captures his lips with his for a quick kiss. When the taller pulls away, he removes himself from his boyfriend’s shoulder and begins patting the area around him. “What are you doing?” Nick asks, his eyebrows knitting together as he watches the male slip his hand under the blanket. 

“I wanna see the feedback from the podcast episode. Matt said the fans are flipping their shit and I wanna see it for myself.” Finn replies, momentarily shifting his gaze to look at Nick before he pulls his phone out from under the blanket. As Nick gently nods his head with a small hum, Finn situates himself back against his shoulder and unlocks his phone. “I’m gonna check Tiktok first.” 

Finn spins his thumb around a few times as his eyes scan his lock screen for the said app and when he finally finds it, he clicks it open. It didn’t take a single scroll from the male for a video of himself and Nick to pop up on his feed. Immediately, the room fills with the sound of both boys talking with Daylight by Taylor Swift playing softly in the back. 

“I’m just really grateful that I met Nick at that party. At the time, I was struggling mentally, obviously, it wasn’t shown on social media and I tried my best to now show it either, but when I met him I just felt all my worries and shit wash away. He brings me such peace and happiness and seeing him nearly every single day just makes me so fucking happy. Honest to God, I don’t know what I would be doing if I never went to that bar that night.” Finn says, his eyes not breaking away from Nick’s as he looks at the male with a loving and heart-stuck gaze. 

“God don’t even get me started with how amazing a boyfriend he is. I swear he knows me better than I know myself. He knows me like the back of his hand and immediately knows if something is up just by looking at me. He’s so caring and sweet and I need to figure out how to repay him because he’s just so fucking amazing.” 

“Oh, cut the bullshit.” Nick states, his eyes rolling rather playfully before he shifts his eyes up back to Finn’s, “I haven’t really been in a proper relationship before so all this shit is new to me, and still kinda is in a sense, but I appreciate how Finn takes things so slow with me. Like when we first started dating yes we kissed and whatnot but it was slow like how we both agreed on. He didn’t overstep any of my boundaries and constantly asked me if what he was doing was okay with me physical touch wise and always asked if I was comfortable. I couldn’t be more thankful for how patient he was with me. I could go on a whole fucking tangent about how much I care and appreciate this kid but I think I’d need a whole other podcast episode for that.” 

“Might as well give you guys another episode to gush about each other,” Chris says with a chuckle. 

“Well, the next podcast episode will be a Nick and Finn exclusive guys! Be on the lookout for it.” Matt exclaims as he points at the camera in front of him. 

“Okay, don’t put that out there. Doing this shit was anxiety-inducing enough. We’ll feed the people when we feed like feeding them.” Nick says, his statement earning a small head nod from Finn. 

“Nick and Finn content soon guys!” Finn exclaims with a wide smile.

The TikTok continues for a little while longer with various clips of the couple being shown as Daylight plays more loudly. Nick and Finn take a moment to scroll through the latter’s for you page, the sight of the support from hundreds of fan pages bringing large smiles to their faces. 

“I think this was a success, don’t you think?” Finn asks as he shuts his phone off and reaches over to set it on the nightstand.

“I completely agree,” Nick replies with a small head nod. As Finn returns to his previous spot against the headboard, Nick wordlessly moves the blanket further down his legs to lay down on his lap. “Should we do a photo dump later?” 

“If you want, it’s your call.” Nick nods his head and abruptly stops when Finn begins to card his fingers through his hair. The redhead can’t help but the large smile creeping onto his lips as he subconsciously leans into his boyfriend’s hand, his actions drawing a smile from the taller who’s gazing down at him. 

“Thank you for being with me.” 

“Oh, Nick.” Finn bends down to land a soft kiss on Nick’s temple. “I should be thanking you, to be honest.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Nick mumbles. The male takes a moment to flip onto his stomach and bury his face in Finn’s bare thigh. “Let me be sappy please.” 

Finn softly laughs at the male, “Alright, alright.” 

As Nick begins to land light kisses on Finn’s thigh, the latter begins to drag his fingertips up and down the younger’s bare back. The moment Nick feels the male’s fingers lightly brush against his skin, he tenses up with a choked giggle. 

“Finn…” Nick warns, “Don’t fucking start I swear to God.” 

“I’m not doing anything?” Finn asks, his eyebrows furrowing in pure confusion as he dips his head down to glance at the male in his lap. 

“Finn, you know damn well what you’re doing.” 

“Do you want me to stop? I will if you want me to.” 

“No, no!” Nick quickly reaches an arm back to grab Finn’s hand when he pulls away. “I didn’t mean to sound harsh or anything, I promise. It just feels really weird.” 

“Oh,” Finn mumbles with a small chuckle. “So can I continue?” When Nick nods his head and returns to his spot in Finn’s thigh, the latter continues his previous actions. 

The two sat there for the remainder of the day, their energy levels boosted up to the max simply by being in each other’s presence. Both boys finally had a weight they’d had on their shoulders for a month lifted off their backs and they couldn’t be happier. They finally felt free to do whatever they wanted couple-wise and knew that the fans would eat up all the content they gave them. They were forever grateful for the fans and made sure they were plenty aware of the fact through a few ‘thank you’ posts made on their public stories. 

In all, both Finn and Nick continued to stay happy with one another. They relied on each other constantly and were always there for one another. Nothing was getting in between the couple, their bond was simply unbreakable. Yes, they still had a long way to go in terms of their relationship but they were very content with where they are right now. Considering how the full story of how these two boys met and stole each other's hearts has finally ended on a happy note, most would believe that this would be the end. 

But that is not the case for Nick and Finn. 

Who says that there will stop being more content just because their series has ended? Their story has just started! 

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[pencildragons]

1 like and i'll explain my entire gar restructure headcanon (part 1)

THANKS TESSA ILYYYYYYY

okay so as i'm sure you've seen everyone and their mother in this fandom say, 1.2 million soldiers for an INTERGALACTIC WAR is nowhere near enough. i mean, look at the top ten largest armies in the world this year.

by canon explanation, the GAR is smaller than the standing army of a country with 23 million people living in it. you know how many people live on coruscant? three trillion (and that number should be way way way higher to match the population density we're shown, but let's not get into that.) so, because that is stupid, i've gone the route of what someone suggested on wookiepedia one time: that a unit refers to a standard group of soldiers.

It is also possible that Lama Su did not intend the term "unit" to refer to an individual soldier. If a "unit" referred to a battalion of 576 troopers (as Lama Su spoke of later in Obi-Wan's visit), then 200,000 of these would render 115,200,000 clones and the 1,000,000 others spoken of as 576,000,000. This grand total of 691,200,000 would be far more suitable for the core of a galactic army. A "unit" being a 2,304-clone regiment, the largest military division classified as a unit instead of a formation, would amount to 2,764,800,000 clones. Furthermore, if a "unit" refers to a legion, the closest formation in size to a real-life British division of 15,000 men, the 1,200,000 units would have more than 18,000,000,000 clones, a truly "grand" army, suitable for defeating the huge numbers of droids under the Confederacy.

this scared me, because 18 billion people created purely for the purpose of serving in an army kind of broke my brain, so i settled for a nice round 1 billion, which is tbh way too low, so i Will also include the numbers for an army of 18 billion.

Structure of systems army if GAR = 1 billion (numbers, units, and clone+jedi officers) (if you use these in your fic or art, please credit my tumblr)

at this point i cant remember what is and isn't canon, because i created this two years ago. however, i'm pretty sure i invented most of it using vaguely equivalent military terms, because canon is Stupid.

Squad: 15 soldiers corporal

Patrol: 75 soldiers (5 squads) sergeant (5 corporals, 1 sergeant)

Echelon: 375 soldiers (5 patrols) sergeant-major (25 corporals, 5 sergeants, 1 sergeant-major)

Platoon: 5 625 soldiers (15 echelons) lieutenant (375 corporals, 25 sergeants, 15 sergeant-majors, 1 lieutenant)

Company: 28 125 soldiers (5 platoons) captain (also a rank awarded to high ranking medics/chief medical officers) (1 875 corporals, 125 sergeants, 75 sergeant-majors, 5 lieutenants, 1 captain)

Battalion: 84 375 soldiers (3 companies) major (5 625 corporals, 375 sergeants, 225 sergeant-majors, 15 lieutenants, 3 captains, 1 major)

Regiment: 337 500 soldiers (4 battalions) colonel (end of promotion that CTs can reach, beginning of CC ranks) (22 500 corporals, 1 500 sergeants, 900 sergeant majors, 60 lieutenants, 12 captains, 4 majors, 1 colonel) Rank 1 general (Knights)

Legion (this is what i headcanon most of the 'battalions' in tcw to be, e.g., 501st, 212th): 1 350 000 soldiers (4 regiments) clone commander AND/OR jedi commander (Padawans, e.g., Ahsoka) (90 000 corporals, 6000 sergeants, 3600 sergeant-majors, 240 lieutenants, 48 captains, 16 majors, 4 colonels) Rank-2 general (Knights or Knights with Padawans, e.g., Anakin) (4 Rank-1 Generals, 1 Rank-2 General)

Corps: 5 400 000 soldiers (4 legions) Brigadier commander (e.g., Bly [in my hc]) (360 000 corporals, 24 000 sergeants, 14 400 sergeant-majors, 840 lieutenants, 192 captains, 64 majors, 16 colonels, 4 commanders, 1 brigadier commander) Rank-3 general* (very militaristically-competent Knights (e.g., Aayla Secura) on the verge of Mastery and militaristically-competent Masters) (16 Rank-1 generals, 4 Rank-2 generals, 1 Rank-3 general)

Sector army: 43 200 000 soldiers (8 corps) Senior commander (e.g., Gree) (2 880 000 corporals, 1 920 000 sergeants, 115 200 sergeant-majors, 6 720 lieutenants, 1 536 captains, 512 majors, 128 colonels, 64 commanders, 8 brigadier commanders, 1 senior commander) Senior general* (very experienced + competent Masters, e.g., Luminara Unduli) (128 Rank-1 Generals, 32 Rank-2 Generals, 8 Rank-3 Generals, 1 Senior general)

Systems army: 86 400 000 soldiers (2 sector armies) Marshal commander (e.g., Cody) (5 760 000 corporals, 3 840 000 sergeants, 230 400 sergeant-majors, 13 440 lieutenants, 3 072 captains, 1 024 majors, 256 colonels, 128 commanders, 16 brigadier commanders, 2 senior commanders, 1 marshal commander) High general (all members of the High Council/Council of 12, e.g., Obi-Wan, Mace, Yoda, Adi Gallia, etc) (356 Rank-1 Generals, 64 Rank-2 generals, 16 Rank-3 generals, 2 senior generals, 1 high general)

GAR: 1 036 800 000 soldiers (12 system armies) 69 120 000 corporals, 46 080 000 sergeants, 2 764 800 sm, 161 280 lt, 36 888 cpt, 12 288 maj, 3 072 colonels, 1 536 commanders, 192 brigadier commanders, 24 senior commanders, 12 marshal commanders) 4 272 Rank-1 Generals, 768 Rank-2 Generals, 192 Rank-3 Generals, 24 Senior Generals, 12 High Generals (total of 5 268 Jedi, not counting all those who act in Combat Service Support Roles)

up next in this series: GAR figures if there were 18 billion clone soldiers, and then after that ranks + branches. reblogs very much appreciated!!!!!!

*note: if a Jedi more superior than a Rank-1 General has a Padawan (e.g., Senior General/Master Luminara Unduli w/ Padawan-Commander Barriss Offee), then the Senior General will also be given direct personal command of a Legion, and will also operate as a Rank-1 General or, in most circumstances, share capacity with a Rank-1 General. i headcanon that because of this in the war, Padawans with two masters (their actual Master if this is more superior than a Rank-1 general, and their Rank-1 General master who they by necessity spend a lot of time with) become VERY common